You overrate my capacity of love. I don't posess half the warmth of nature you believe me to have. An unprotected childhood in a cold world has beaten gentleness out of me.
You overrate my capacity of love. I don't posess half the warmth of nature you believe me to have. An unprotected childhood in a cold world has beaten gentleness out of me.
They can't hurt me. I'm not like the rest of you. There's no one left I love.
Sometimes a woman's love of being loved gets the better of her conscience, and though she is agonized at the thought of treating a man cruelly, she encourages him to love her while she doesn't love him at all. Then, when she sees him suffering, her remorse sets in, and she does what she can to repair the wrong.
Impulsively, I lean forward and kiss him, stopping his word. This is probably overdue anyway since he's right, we are supposed to be madly in love.
That innate love of melody, which she had inherited from her ballad-singing mother, gave the simplest music a power which could well-nigh drag her heart out of her bosom at times.
Never having been in love, this is going to be a real trick. I think of my parents. The way my father never failed to bring her gifts from the woods. The way my mother's face would light up at the sound of his boots at the door. The way she almost stopped living when he died.
They're in love. Fuck the war.
When you can't be with the one you love, will you stay with the one who loves you?
Yeah, I'll always be your friend. No matter what you love.
I, the soul called Wanderer, love you, human Ian. And that will never change, no matter what I might become.
If love is liking someone an awful lot, then I suppose I'm in love with several people.
To tell you the truth I love Sam. It's not a movie kind of love either. I just look at her sometimes and I think she is the prettiest and nicest person in the whole world.
When their love was not reciprocated, it could quickly turn to violent hatred.
Sorry is the Kool-Aid of human emotions. It's what you say when you spill a cup of coffee or throw a gutter ball when you're bowling with the girls in the league. True sorrow is as rare as true love.
Cortez looked like someone newly in love, the way only twenty-four-year-olds can look.
Was there ever a trap to match the trap of love?
I'm aware of what you've done for me, and I'm not ungrateful. I appreciate that you actually showed yourself to be greater than your prejudices and have given me a chance here. But I don't want you for my lover, and you're not my father.
Love didn't grow very well in a place where there was only fear
She's married. I'm more a friend and occasional lover.
Superstition, like true love, needs time to grow and reflect upon itself.
Then I discovered that being related is no guarantee of love!
Love is a verb. Love - the feeling - is the fruit of love the verb or our loving actions. So love her. Sacrifice. Listen to her. Empathize. Appreciate. Affirm her.
And when you get down to it, Lily, that is the only purpose grand enough for a human life. Not just to love but to persist in love.
All the lines that held me to my life were sliced apart in swift cuts, like clipping the strings of a bunch of balloons. Everything that made me who I was - my love for the dead girl upstairs, my love for my father, my loyalty to my new pack, the love for my other brothers, my hatred for my enemies, my home, my name, my self - disconnected from me in that second - snip, snip, snip - and floated up into space.
I marveled at how mixed up people got when it came to love. I myself, for instance. It seemed like I was now thinking of Zach forty minutes out of every hour, Zach, who was an impossibility. That's what I told myself five hundred times: impossibility. I can tell you this much: the word is a great big log throw on the fires of love.
My old mind hadn't been capable of holding this much love. My old heart had not been strong enough to bear it. Maybe this was the part of me that I'd brought forward to be intensified in my new life. Like Carlisle's compassion and Esme's devotion. I would probably never be able to do anything interesting or special like Edward, Alice, and Jasper could do. Maybe I would just love Edward more than anyone in the history of the world had ever loved anyone else. I could live with that.
I watched him, filled with tenderness and ache, wondering what it was that connected us. Was it the wounded places down inside people that sought each other out, that bred a kind of love between them?
I believe that. But I want you to know something - when it comes to all this enemies nonsense, I'm out. I am a neutral country. I am Switzerland. I refuse to be affected by territorial disputes between mythical creatures. Jacob is family. You are . . . well, not exactly the love of my life, because I expect to love you for much longer than that. The love of my existence. I don't care who's a werewolf and who's a vampire. If Angela turns out to be a witch, she can join the party, too.
That's what I told myself five hundred times: impossibility. I can tell you this much: the word is a great big log thrown on the fires of love. ~Page 133.
It's something about the inevitability. How nothing can keep them apart--not her selfishness, or his evil, or even death, in the end...their love is their only redeeming quality.
There s a difference between being in love and being in love with the idea of love.
Love didn't work that way, I decided. Once you cared about a person, it was impossible to be logical about them anymore.
You know, when it works, love is pretty amazing. It's not overrated. There's a reason for all those songs.
Opening yourself up to making mistakes and being vulnerable is what makes it beautiful and special with the person you love.
I believe in lust at first sight.And attraction.But not love.
I was born to join in love, not hate - that is my nature.
She remembered him smiling, and realized that time, that great old healer, had finally accomplished its work, and now, across the years, the face of love no longer stirred up agonies of grief and bitterness. Rather, one was left feeling simply grateful. For how unimaginably empty the past would be without him to remember.
It is all for love. Which is a wonderful and dashing matter. But which can also be a very foolish thing.
That first love. And the first one who breaks your heart. For me, they just happen to be the same person.
There is never a time or place for true love. It happens accidentally, in a heartbeat, in a single flashing, throbbing moment.
It was a basic plot in any number of her books: girl strikes out, makes good, finds love, gets revenge. In that order. The making good and striking out part I liked. The rest would just be bonus.
Love is needing someone. Love is putting up with someone's bad qualities because they somehow complete you.
Love is so unpredictable. That what makes it so great
No relationship is perfect, ever. There are always some ways you have to bend, to compromise, to give something up in order to gain something greater...The love we have for each other is bigger than these small differences. And that's the key. It's like a big pie chart, and the love in a relationship has to be the biggest piece. Love can make up for a lot.
But the humans weren't what made my steps falter as I walked through grass that had turned bright green with summer's touch. It was Dimitri. Always Dimitri. Dimitri, the man I loved. Dimitri, the Strigoi I wanted to save. Dimitri, the monster I'd most likely have to kill. The love we'd shared always burned within me, no matter how often I told myself to move on, no matter how much the world did think I'd move on. He was always with me, always on my mind, always making me question myself.
If I had learned anything in my life about love, it was that they were tenous things that could end at any moment. Caution was essential-but not at the cost of risking your life
I've given up on you...Love fades. Mine has.
You did what you did out of love. I can't be mad at you over that. It was stupid, but that's how love is. Do you have any idea what I'd do for you? To keep you safe?
Love and loyalty runs deeper than blood
Be careful of love. It'll twist your brain around and leave you thinking up is down and right is wrong.
© 2020 Inspirational Stories
© 2020 Inspirational Stories