Love Quotes
-
I work at my garden all the time and with love. What I need most are flowers, always. My heart is forever in Giverny.
Claude Monet
-
The darts of love are blunted by maiden modesty.
Miguel de Cervantes
-
Summary riposte To the dreary wail There's no knowing what Love is all about. Poets know a lot.
Robert Frost
-
Me and music. Music was always my first love. It was my first love for sure. And still is a huge part of my life.
Johnny Depp
-
Oh, most magnificent and noble Nature!
Have I not worshipped thee with such a love
As never mortal man before displayed?
Adored thee in thy majesty of visible creation,
And searched into thy hidden and mysterious ways
As Poet, as Philosopher, as Sage?
Humphry Davy
-
Like the religious elite of Jesus’ time, we are destined for a life of being barrier makers and line drawers if we insist on holding on to a culturally diluted version of Jesus. However, when we rediscover the radical message of Jesus—a message that consistently, from beginning to end pronounced inclusion for the excluded, and love for the outcast—we rediscover a divine invitation to become the people who flip the tables, erase the lines, and remove barriers. We are invited to join Jesus in practicing undiluted inclusion of the “other.” Let’s stop being the religious elites who focus on when and how to keep people out, and instead endeavor to be the loving, inclusive followers of Jesus who unrelentingly invite the outsider to come in.
Benjamin L. Corey
-
I knew even then how rare that kind of love is. Only the luckiest people get to experience it at all.
Nicholas Sparks
-
Life has now taught me that love for things, like all unrequited love, takes its toll in the long run.
Adolfo Bioy Casares
-
Sometimes I find that music is so much more attractive than love. I don’t know… It’s like some kind of euphoria, that love can’t bring to you.
Florence Welch
Florence and the Machine
-
In order to love your enemies, you must begin by analyzing self.
Martin Luther King, Jr.
-
If this be not love, it is madness, and then it is pardonable.
William Congreve
-
O Love! they die in yon rich sky, They faint on hill or field or river: Our echoes roll from soul to soul, And grow forever and forever. Blow, bugle, blow! set the wild echoes flying! And answer, echoes, answer! dying, dying, dying.
Alfred Lord Tennyson
