#v

The trick. . .is to find the balance between the bright colors of humor and the serious issues of identity, self-loathing, and the possibility for intimacy and love when it seems no longer possible or, sadder yet, no longer necessary. ↗

— Wendy Wasserstein

#happiness #humor #identity #intimacy #life

Who needs a house? I'm talking about your heart. You have plenty of guest rooms there. And that's what you do. You open your heart to people. You keep lovely little rooms in there, just waiting for your friends to come visit. People feel as if they can come right in, just as they are. You don't entertain, you love. That's what lasts. That's why people like me feel as if I will always be your friend. You hold a special place for me in your heart. ↗

— Robin Jones Gunn

#love

If in my life I fail completely to heed others, solely out of a desire to be 'devout' and to perform my 'religious duties', then my relationship with God will also grow arid. It becomes merely 'proper', but loveless. ↗

— Pope Benedict XVI

#love #neighbor #life

I don't think God wants to be worshiped. I think the only pure worship of God is by loving one another, and I think all other forms of worship became a substitute for the love that we should show one another. ↗

— Charles M. Schulz

#love #religion #worship #love

Learning to have patience and not forcing the relationship is part of the twin soul process. If you are trying to force your will onto the other person, chances are you’re not ready to really connect yourself. There should be no blame here - only deep and unconditional love. ↗

— Chimnese Davids

#love #pain #unconditional-love #love

We stood, separated by space, certainly, in identical conditions of pleasant uncertainty and anticipation, and we both held our hearts in our hands, all pink and palpitating and ready for pleasure and pain, and we were about to throw these hearts in each other's face like snowballs, or cricket balls (How's that?) or, more accurately, like great bleeding wounds: 'Take my wound. ↗

— Doris Lessing

#love

When Josey woke up and saw the feathery frost on her windowpane, she smiled. Finally, it was cold enough to wear long coats and tights. It was cold enough for scarves and shirts worn in layers, like camouflage. It was cold enough for her lucky red cardigan, which she swore had a power of its own. She loved this time of year. Summer was tedious with the light dresses she pretended to be comfortable in while secretly sure she looked like a loaf of white bread wearing a belt. The cold was such a relief. ↗

— Sarah Addison Allen

#love

But there was still something missing. Something that nagged at her-an emptiness she couldn't explain. There were mornings she woke with her heart pounding wildly and the sensation of arms wrapped around her. But the feeling slipped away the moment she opened her eyes, and no matter how quickly she squeezed them shut, she couldn't recapture the contentment she'd felt. ↗

— Kirsten Miller

#missing #soul-mates #love

As an unperfect actor upon the stage Who with much fear is put besides his part Or some fierce thing, replete with too much rage Whose strengths abundance weakens his own heart So I, for fear of trust, forget to say The perfect ceremony of love's rite And in mine own love's strength seem to decay O'ercharged with burthen of my own love's might o, let my books be then the eloquence And dumb presagers of my speaking breast Who plead for love, and look for recompense More than that tongue that more hath express'd. O, learn to read what silent love hath writ To hear with eyes belongs to love's fine wit. ↗

— William Shakespeare

#sonnet #unperfect-actor #love

I wish you'd fall in love with me," she said. "Why?" "Because you're really someone worth falling in love with. And if we were in love, I wouldn't be drifting. I wouldn't be nobody. At least not while I was with you. ↗

— Anne Rampling

#forbidden #love #wish #love