Lover Quotes - Page 2

Writing poems is simply an excuse to remember You.

If you can love one person, you can love everyone.

A good woman comes in all shapes and colors.When you find her, adore her.

Sometimes daughter who is loved by her father very much and loving her father very much, she is getting hurt by her lover very much.

She was my friend. Briefly, she was my lover. She was braver than I ever would have been in the moment of death. And I bet she was a hell of a shooting star.

If I could find someone who would love me to the extent I do, I would love her to the extent she could never love me.

We'll meet again, but you're a lifetime away, and I need you now.

I was a young, & had deep loves, & my heart would overflow with enthusiasm! And I mingled with the crowd, I mixed with my fellow men, speaking my thought out loud! And they gaped back at me, without understanding. And I withdrew from them, & they said to me: Arrogant one! And from time to time in my solitude, my loves, my repressed enthusiasms broke out into odes, conversation; & my companions laughed and used to point at me as a madman. So I suffered, doubted, cursed, & no one believed me sincere. It’s as if this heart, once so full of strength & love were annihilated.

Most people who are would each not be in love with their partner, if they did not have the kind of genitals they have.

as i sit here in a chaoticsilence of the roamingocean in mymind, the only think that puts me at ease is the memoryof you staring back atme. you coiled my fears by letting meinside of the gully of your eyes.

If you were to love, love not for the lust that you yearn but the rather the pain that you earn with it. Remember though that the ones who brave the pain are eternally bound in Cupid's chain. It is these chains that many of us fear. The fear of losing the freedom of choosing for self. The fear of placing the needs of our better halves before our own. The fear is understandable for history has taught us to despise and the society has given us the chance to entice. However, if you were to pause and think ever about - love - then do remember that the chain which upon acceptance binds you in amour is the same which upon rejection arrests us to an ague called lonesome depression. Few survive in love, but fewer without it.

It's always nice being fancied. It's always nice being wanted. Even it it's by the wrong person.

In some cases, it is the woman’s stomach—not her heart—that has left her man for another.

Why is your skin the best feeling in the world?

...because loving you is a crime. Which I love to commit each time, every day, whenever I see you, because that's how I love you.

By loving you, I learn everything because your soul contains the entire universe.

A true lover never wants anything but gives with all his heart.

I believed all Angels had wings, that they never cried, that I would live a lifetimes and never see one up close, never know the glow of such skin, or know how intoxicating the feel of her soft lips pressing hard against mine, or how beautiful was a simple touch, and then you walked into my life and made me wonder why I had wasted so much time thinking about Angels.

Once you’ve gotten used to a certain kind of smell from a certain kind of flesh, whether it’s a lover or a rotting corpse, you long for it when it’s not around. Or maybe it’s just me.

When you pour out words from your heart to your lover, make sure they aren't on a paper vessel and lost to the wind.

Be a crazy beloved to find your crazy lover.

Come into my world. I will show you the phenomenon that Stendhal experienced. I will help you feel the cascading arpeggios of Wagner's overture. I will dance to Doga’s waltzes with you. A day spent without appreciating the beauty surrounding us is a waste. Let me appreciate you

Impulsive passion please set me free.

Listen.Do you see that you can’t hear snowfall?Look.Do you sensethat you can’t see love?Touch.Do you graspthat you can’t catch poems?Try.Smell this glass. Go on taste this cloud.These material senses won’t get you far untilyou feelthe velvet glove caress your soul.

I knelt and locked the door. I locked the door locking the world and time outside. I stretched my body across the mattress and Saskia drew in close to me and placed her open hand on my chest, her mouth near my shoulder; her breath, my breath blew out the candle, and I held my lost Wanderess with tenderness until sweet sleep overcame us.

Love is an admiration that comes with patience. Lust is an admiration that comes with impatience. In all, admiration is common but patience is not!

Making love to me is amazing. Wait, I meant: making love, to me, is amazing. The absence of two little commas nearly transformed me into a sex god.

I did put on the record player, the love symphony of Beethoven wafted in the air. You and I made love,last February on that amazing Sunday afternoon. And the neighbor's dog barked madly every time our bed creaked from all the gyrations that you and I could outmaneuver in our frenzy of wanting each other's body and soul!

Christ is Love; Love is everything; therefore, Christ is everything! Whatever is hidden from you is in Christ for you!

To live in love is my life’s purpose.

I will keep on loving you until eternity comes to make me love you more

Love is everything we can have because God is everything we have. God is love.

I’m a man of integrity. My heart is locked and I have given you the only key.

They tell us the only way to move on is to forget.“Forgive,” they say.Realise that you deserve better.That maybe they deserve better.You can't fight fire with fire.Extinguish it once and for all."Do not look back," they say.They don't tell you that only one thing is needed. Only one:love.When you are filled to the brim with love,you only emanate love.You become lover and love itself.Only then will you love even the very people you wish to hate.

But not you, O girl, nor yet his mother,stretched his eyebrows so fierce with expectation.Not for your mouth, you who hold him now,did his lips ripen into these fervent contours.Do you really think your quiet footstepscould have so convulsed him, you who move like dawn wind?True, you startled his heart; but older terrorsrushed into him with that first jolt to his emotions.Call him . . . you'll never quite retrieve him from those dark consorts.Yes, he wants to, he escapes; relieved, he makes a homein your familiar heart, takes root there and begins himself anew.But did he ever begin himself?

I highly doubt anyone would see anything,” he said, replying to my thoughts. “We’re on the 30th floor. Stop procrastinating; take off your fucking clothes.

You know how it goes:at some point in your life, you fell in love with someone and had a glimpse of God.Then you abandoned life and loverand started celebratingyour love for God.

I'm not here to grant you the extraordinary love you never had for yourself. I'm here, on my own accord, to love you. So that when you stare into my mirror eyes, you may see how extraordinary you are.

Maybe we don’t ever feel that sweetly untainted and wholly majestic kind of love that takes every longing captive because we are hopelessly entangled in the illogical fear that despite all of love’s grand goodness, it might not be good enough to keep us safe.

If I have refused to risk, I have in the self-same decision refused to love. And if indeed I have refused to love, tragically I have refused to live. And when will I realize that that in and of itself is an unacceptable risk.

Everybody has somebody. It could be a friend, a lover, a spouse, a writing partner, or even That One Person You See At The Coffee Shop each day. Sometimes they exist to comfort you. Sometimes they exist to drive you absolutely mad. Be open to either as a form of self-improvement.

Do you ever get the feeling that when you show someone your affection for them, you are assaulting them? Like you should probably leave them alone? Your affection, no matter how sincere, does not necessarily mean a damn thing to the person you are giving it to. Love can corner you. When you intrude on someone with your affection, you might find yourself trying to knock a strong door down with your shoulder. Either you break the door or you break yourself. Something almost always gets broken. In my mind it runs like this: I’m going to like you, whether you like it or not. I’ll wear you down until you relent and swallow this big lie I have for you. Don’t move. Don’t live. I love you.

When I'm with you,I feel exposed.Naked. When I'm naked with you, I feel clothed.Sheltered.

I fell in loveand then I became love.

What, and end up like you? Wistfully recalling a lover from long ago? Please.

Love is our religion. Love is our light. It is the only thing that gives us any hope.

I don’t mind losing in this game of love, if it means You will be the winner.

Every lover is a soldier.

To love is to finally live.

You are the love, the lover, and the beloved.

Fear no more as long as her memory surrounds you like a ghost…cry no more as long as she weeps for you like a willow.

This is a day of celebration!Today, we are divorcing the pastand marrying the present.Dance,and you will find Godin every room.Today, we are divorcing resentmentand marrying forgiveness.Sing,and God will find you in every tune.Today, we are divorcing indifferenceand marrying love.Drink, and play that tambourine against your thighs.We have so much celebrating to do!

My tears brought no sense of release or relief. Their flight felt like the lightest, coldest touch of a departing lover.