Love is friendship that has caught fire. It is quiet understanding, mutual confidence, sharing and forgiving. It is loyalty through good and bad times. It settles for less than perfection and makes allowances for human weaknesses.
One does not fall "in" or "out" of love. One grows in love.
Learning to see love and to express that love is the purpose of living this life. What's real has love at its heart; the universe is constructed from love, and that love is very much tied to our power of attention and imagination.
A life without love is like a year without spring.
Love is a fabric which never fades, no matter how often it is washed in the water of adversity and grief.
Love is an act of courage.
Let me not to the marriage of true minds Admit impediments. Love is not love Which alters when it alteration finds, Or bends with the remover to remove: O no! it is an ever-fixed mark That looks on tempests and is never shaken; It is the star to every wandering bark, Whose worth's unknown, although his height be taken. Love's not Time's fool, though rosy lips and cheeks Within his bending sickle's compass come: Love alters not with his brief hours and weeks, But bears it out even to the edge of doom. If this be error and upon me proved, I never writ, nor no man ever loved.
Love is not a matter of what happens in life. It's a matter of what's happening in your heart.
Love is the seed of all hope. It is the enticement to trust, to risk, to try, to go on.
True love is spelled G-I-V-E. It is not based on what you can get, but rooted in what you can give to the other person.
Love is friendship set to music.
Love is a lot like a backache. It doesn't show up on x-rays, but you know it's there.
Distance is temporary, but our love is permanent. This may be the last time I see you, but if you keep me in your heart, together we shall be eternal; if you believe, we shall never part.
It would be impossible to "love" anyone or anything one knew completely. Love is directed towards what lies hidden in its object.
Real love is a pilgrimage. It happens when there is no strategy, but it is very rare because most people are strategists.
Love is like smiling, it never fades and is contagious.
The beauty we love is very silent. It smiles softly to itself, but never speaks.
Love is two minds without a single thought.
Love becomes greater and nobler in calamity.
Who knows? Maybe they’re right. Maybe we are driven crazy by our feelings. Maybe love is a disease, and we would be better off without it. But we have chosen a different road. And in the end that is the point of escaping the cure: We are free to choose. We are even free to choose the wrong thing.
Love is every bit as violent and dangerous as murder.
Mysterious love, uncertain treasure, hast thou more of pain or pleasure! Endless torments dwell about thee: Yet who would live, and live without thee!
But I believe in love, you know; love is a uniquely portable magic. I don’t think it’s in the stars, but I do believe that blood calls to blood and mind calls to mind and heart to heart.
Love is illogical, love had consequences--I did this to myself, and I should be able to take it.
Love isn't something you find. Love is something that finds you.
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