#love

I wish there was a word more than ‘love’ itself to convey what I feel for you. ↗

— Faraaz Kazi

#obsession #true-love #love

All I want, is for you to love me. Not because of what I can do or what I look like, or because I love you - just because I am. ↗

— Diana Gabaldon

#love

One does not love a place the less for having suffered in it, unless it has been all suffering, nothing but suffering. ↗

— Jane Austen

#does #having #less #love #nothing

So don't fall in love, there's just too much to lose; if you're given the chance then I'm begging you choose to walk away, walk away, don't let it get you. I can't bear to see the same thing happen to you. ↗

— Mayday Parade

#songs #terrible-things #love

And that's humbling, knowing that your voice can mean so much to another person. ↗

— Kirsty Eagar

#sweet #love

Let your heart look on white sea spray and be lonely. Love is a fool star. You and a ring of stars may mention my name and then forget me. Love is a fool star. ↗

— Carl Sandburg

#love

Too much of anything is dangerous unless it's God's Love. ↗

— Reign

#love

But nothing was a important as escaping Evernight or the ‘destiny’ my parents and teachers had decided for me. I had only one chance to be free and to be with the guy I loved. I intended to take it. ↗

— Claudia Gray

#escape #free #lucas #stargazer #love

Since you came back from summer break, our entire relationship is about fooling around. We never talk anymore, and I'm sick of feeling guilty for not ripping my clothes off and spreading my legs to prove I love you. ↗

— Simone Elkeles

#perfect-chemistry #love

the battered woman--for she wore a skirt--with her right hand exposed, her left clutching at her side, stood singing of love--love which has lasted a million years, she sang, love which prevails, and millions of years ago, her lover, who had been dead these centuries, had walked, she crooned, with her in May; but in the course of ages, long as summer days, and flaming, she remembered, with nothing but red asters, he had gone; death's enormous sickle had swept those tremendous hills, and when at last she laid her hoary and immensely aged head on the earth, now become a mere cinder of ice, she implored the Gods to lay by her side a bunch of purple heather, there on her high burial place which the last rays of the last sun caressed; for then the pageant of the universe would be over. ↗

— Virginia Woolf

#love #romance #age