Love Quotes and Sayings
To say a man is fallen in love, — or that he is deeply in love, — or up to the ears in love, — and sometimes even over head and ears in it, — carries an idiomatical kind of implication, that love is a thing below a man: — this is recurring again to Plato’s opinion, which, with all its divinityship, I hold to be damnable and heretical: — and so much for that. Let love therefore be what it will. ~ Laurence Sterne. I can do you blood and love without the rhetoric, and I can do you blood and rhetoric without the love, and I can do you all three concurrent or consecutive, but I can’t do you love and rhetoric without the blood. Blood is compulsory — they’re all blood, you see. ~ Tom Stoppard. It has always seemed strange to me. The things we admire in men, kindness and generosity, openness, honesty, understanding and feeling, are the concomitants of failure in our system. And those traits we detest, sharpness, greed, acquisitiveness, meanness, egotism and self-interest, are the traits of success. And while men admire the quality of the first they love the produce of the second. ~ John Steinbeck. Our individuality is all, all, that we have. There are those who barter it for security, those who repress it for what they believe is the betterment of the whole society, but blessed in the twinkle of the morning star is the one who nurtures it and rides it in, in grace and love and wit, from peculiar station to peculiar station along life’s bittersweet route. ~ Tom Robbins. I saw my life branching out before me like the green fig tree in the story. From the tip of every branch, like a fat purple fig, a wonderful future beckoned and winked. One fig was a husband and a happy home and children, and another fig was a famous poet and another fig was a brilliant professor, and another fig was Ee Gee, the amazing editor, and another fig was Europe and Africa and South America, and another fig was Constantin and Socrates and Attila and a pack of other lovers with queer names and offbeat professions, and another fig was an Olympic lady crew champion, and beyond and above these figs were many more figs I couldn’t quite make out. I saw myself sitting in the crotch of this fig tree, starving to death, just because I couldn’t make up my mind which of the figs I would choose. I wanted each and every one of them, but choosing one meant losing all the rest, and, as I sat there, unable to decide, the figs began to wrinkle and go black, and, one by one, they plopped to the ground at my feet. ~ Slyvia Plath. I’ve heard there was a secret chord/ That David played, and it pleased the Lord/ But you don’t really care for music, do you?/ It goes like this/ The fourth, the fifth/ The minor fall, the major lift/ The baffled king composing Hallelujah/...Your faith was strong but you needed proof/ You saw her bathing on the roof/ Her beauty in the moonlight overthrew you/ She tied you to a kitchen chair/ She broke your throne, and she cut your hair/ And from your lips she drew the Hallelujah/...Baby I have been here before/ I know this room, I’ve walked this floor/ I used to live alone before I knew you./ I’ve seen your flag on the marble arch/ Love is not a victory march/ It’s a cold and it’s a broken Hallelujah/...Maybe there’s a God above/ But all I’ve ever learned from love/ Was how to shoot at someone who outdrew you/ It’s not a cry you can hear at night/ It’s not somebody who has seen the light/ It’s a cold and it’s a broken Hallelujah. ~ Leonard Cohen. |
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