A soul mates purpose is to shake you up, tear apart your ego a little bit, show you your obstacles and addictions, break your heart open so new light can get in, make you so desperate and out of control that you have to transform your life, then introduce you to your spiritual master.
A true soul mate is probably the most important person you'll ever meet, because they tear down your walls and smack you awake. But to live with a soul mate forever? Nah. Too painful. Soul mates, they come into your life just to reveal another layer of yourself to you, and then leave.
Love is a temporary madness. It erupts like an earthquake and then subsides.
Tell me what you eat, and I will tell you who you are.
Sometimes the heart sees what is invisible to the eye.
Love many things, for therein lies the true strength, and whosoever loves much performs much, and can accomplish much, and what is done in love is done well.
When I despair, I remember that all through history the way of truth and love has always won.
It is difficult to know at what moment love begins; it is less difficult to know that it has begun.
Ah! what is love! It is a pretty thing, As sweet unto a shepherd as a king, And sweeter too; For kings have cares that wait upon a crown, And cares can make the sweetest love to frown.
What is love without passion? - A garden without flowers, a hat without feathers, tobogganing without snow.
Thou demandest what is love? It is that powerful attraction towards all that we conceive, or fear, or hope beyond ourselves, when we find within our own thoughts the chasm of an insufficient void, and seek to awaken in all things that are, a community with what we experience within ourselves.
What is love? Sometimes it's just letting yourself be who and what you are, and letting the person you're supposed to love be who and what he is too. Or maybe what and who they are.
What is love? The need of coming out of one's self.
What is love? As far as I can tell, it is passion, admiration and respect. If you have two, you have enough. If you have all three, you don't have to die to go to heaven.
What is love of one's country; is it hate of one's uncountry? Then it's not a good thing. Is it simply self-love? That's a good thing, but one musn't make a virtue of it, or a profession...Insofar as I love life, I love [my country], but that sort of love does not have a boundary-line of hate. And beyond that, I am ignorant, I hope.
...if use is not an appropriate criterion for decision making in the academic life, what is? Love. ...The virtues of love as a criterion for choosing a college major...it is not pretentious. "Use" is pretentious because it claims to know something about the future that it doesn't really know. Love is immediate... [love] guarantees that you will work to your highest potential...it is part of who you are, and not just something you think, often wrongly, that you can use.
Love! What is love? It's nothing. It's just a word. It doesn't exist. Only pleasure is important.
What is love? When you love somebody then I mean we all want good things to happen to ourselves and keep the bad things at bay. When you love somebody you want that as much for them if not more than you do for yourself.
What is love?” “I don’t know.” “Love is the name given to the bond Kemal feels with Füsun whenever they travel along highways or sidewalks; visit houses, gardens, or rooms; or whenever he watches her sitting in tea gardens and restaurants, and at dinner tables.” “Hmmm … that’s a lovely answer,~ But isn’t love what you feel when you can’t see me?” “Under those circumstances, it becomes a terrible obsession, an illness.
Without the power of intelligence there is no capacity for spiritual knowledge; and without spiritual knowledge we cannot have the faith from which springs that hope whereby we grasp things of the future as though they were present. Without the power of desire there is no longing, and so no love, which is the issue of longing; for the property of desire is to love something. And without the incensive power, intensifying the desire for union with what is loved, there can be no peace, for peace is truly the complete and undisturbed possession of what is desired.
What is love? Love is playing every game as if it's your last!
And now here is my secret, a very simple secret; it is only with the heart that one can see rightly, what is essential is invisible to the eye.
What is hell? I maintain that it is the suffering of being unable to love.
I almost can’t believe I’m going to make myself vulnerable to him again. But what is love but the most extreme and exquisite form of risk perception? I know that relationships don’t last. And yet, with him, the risk of not being with him is much worse than any other hurt I can imagine.
Love's blindness consists oftener in seeing what is not there than in seeing what is.
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