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Read through the most famous quotes by topic #life
It's a good sign but rare instance when, in a relationship, you find that the more you learn about the other person, the more you continue to desire them. A sturdy bond delights in that degree of youthful intrigue. Love loves its youth. ↗
They were gone and I missed them but even so I was very happy. For the rest of my life no matter where on this planet earth I went and no matter how scared or confused I got, I could wait until dark and look up into the night sky and see my three friends again and my heart would swell with love of them and make me strong and clearheaded. ↗
#life
I think everyone must love life more than anything else in the world.' 'Love life more than the meaning of it?' 'Yes, certainly. Love it regardless of logic, as you say. Yes, most certainly regardless of logic, for only then will I grasp its meaning. That's what I've been vaguely aware of for a long time. Half your work is done, Ivan: you love life. Now you must try to do the second half and you are saved. ↗
The door to Blay's room opened wide without a knock, a hello, a hey-are-you-decent. Qhuinn stood in between the jambs, breathing hard, like he’d run down the hall of statues. Sh**, had Layla lost the pregnancy after all? Those mismatched eyes searched around. “You by yourself?” Why the hell would— Oh, Saxton. Right. “Yes—” The male took three strides forward, reached up . . . and kissed the ever-loving crap out of Blay. The kiss was the kind that you remembered all your life, the connection forged with such totality that everything from the feel of the body against your own, to the warm slid of another’s lips on yours, to the power as well as the control, was etched into your mind... Lover at Last, MS pg. 449 ↗
#life
The strands in your eyes That color them wonderful Stop me and steal my breath Emeralds from mountains Thrust towards the sky Never revealing their depth Tell me that we belong together Dress it up with the trappings of love I'll be captivated, I'll hang from your lips Instead of the gallows Of heartache that hang from above I'll be your cryin' shoulder I'll be love suicide I'll be better when I'm older I'll be the greatest fan of your life Rain falls angry on the tin roof As we lie awake in my bed You're my survival You're my living proof My love is alive and not dead Tell me that we belong together Dress it up with the trappings of love I'll be captivated I'll hang from your lips Instead of the gallows Of heartache that hang from above I'll be your cryin' shoulder I'll be love suicide I'll be better when I'm older I'll be the greatest fan of your life I've dropped out Burned up Fought my way back from the dead Tuned in Turned on Remembered the things you said I'll be your cryin' shoulder I'll be love suicide I'll be better when I'm older I'll be the greatest fan of your life I'll be your cryin' shoulder I'll be love suicide I'll be better when I'm older I'll be the greatest fan of you life ↗
#life
She glared at him through tear-filled eyes. “You talk of your pain? You cannot even begin to understand the sacrifice I have made. I gave away a piece of myself, my soul! But I did it out of love, never think otherwise. I made the choice to live my life without her because I knew in my heart she would be better off without me and I could not bear to know that a life created out of such perfect love would be forced to live with the ugly truth of her birth. I thought,” she sobbed, breaking down before him. “I thought…I did the right thing. ↗
Trains are relentless things, aren't they, Monsieur Poirot? People are murdered and die, but they go on just the same. I am talking nonsense, but you know what I mean." "Yes, yes, I know. Life is like a train, Mademoiselle. It goes on. And it is a good thing that that is so." "Why?" "Because the train gets to its journey's end at last, and there is a proverb about that in your language, Mademoiselle." "'Journey's end in lovers meeting.'" Lenox laughed. "That is not going to be true for me." "Yes--yes, it is true. You are young, younger than you yourself know. Trust the train, Mademoiselle, for it is le bon Dieu who drives it." The whistle of the engine came again. "Trust the train, Mademoiselle," murmured Poirot again. "And trust Hercule Poirot. He knows. ↗
