#love

Love is infinite. Grief can lead to love. Love can lead to grief. Grief is a love story told backward just as love is a grief story told backward. ↗

— Bridget Asher

#love #story #love

The hell with this aching, suffering, callow, half-assed delusion that he was in "love" with her. The hell with "love" anyway, and with every other phony, time-wasting, half-assed emotion in the world. ↗

— Richard Yates

#love

Déjame que investigue las últimas células de tu cuerpo, los últimos rincones de tu alma; déjame que vuele tus secretos, que aclare tus misterios, que realice tus milagros; consérvate, presérvate, angústiate; sufre el amor; espérame... ↗

— Jaime Sabines

#jaime-sabines #love #love

One of his tears fell in my mouth, where it became a blue sapphire, source of strength, source of strength and eternal hope. ↗

— Anita Diamant

#jewels #love #love

Love should be left as it is found in innocence ↗

— Elizabeth Ringrose

#love

Opposites are attracted when each one is anxious about its own character. ↗

— Donald Hall

#love

We are each what never leaves us, what we never see the back of is the self. But what loves us is at the back, as Eurydice was escorting him out without his knowing. ↗

— Christina Davis

#love #poetry #love

The obsession was gone. We liked each other, even loved each other. And our sex was still good, but the hunger was gone. Either it just wore out or we wore each other out. A passion like that pushes everything else out of its path. You can't be married and have jobs and children and work and write and have something like an emotional bubonic plague. ↗

— Stephen Dobyns

#passion #love

Ten, który kocha, powinien dzielić los tego, kogo kocha. ↗

— Mikhail Bulgakov

#love

He fell in love with Manhattan's skyline, like a first-time brothel guest falling for a seasoned professional. He mused over her reflections in the black East River at dusk, dawn, or darkest night, and each haloed light-in a tower or strung along the jeweled and sprawling spider legs of the Brooklyn Bridge's spans-hinted at some meaning, which could be understood only when made audible by music and encoded in lyrics. ↗

— Arthur Phillips

#love