...the reader who plucks a book from her shelf only once is as deprived as the listener who, after attending a single performance of a Beethoven symphony, never hears it again.
My people sing, we dance, we love. That is our strength. But we also dig. And then we die. Seldom do we get to choose why. That choice is power. That choice has been our only weapon. But it is not enough.
Each of them has only one moment, a moment when it soars screaming like the phoenix, all its pages aflame. For that single moment we love them ever after, although they soon turn to ashes.
The guy in the white fedora looks like he’s reading a love letter. I say that only because he looks so confused, what else could the subject matter be?
It was funny how all the useless knowledge you accumulated when you're in love with someone could sit for years gathering dust in the back of your mind, only to spill out at the slightest reminder.
It is wonderful how much time good people spend fighting the devil. If they would only expend the same amount of energy loving their fellow men, the devil would die in his own tracks of ennui.
We are more severe judges of our own acts... We judge our thoughts, our intents, our secret curses, our secret hates, not only our acts.
Only with time do we really learn who the other person is and come to love the person for him- or herself and not just for the feelings and experiences they give us.
I had a desire to see something besides my own shores, if only to be content to return to them someday. If I wish to live in my native land and love her, it should not be out of ignorance.
But new love only lasts so long, and then you crash back into the real people you are, and from as high as we were, it's a very long fall, and we hit the ground with a thud.
Each experience of love nudges us toward the Story of Interbeing, because it only fits into that story and defies the logic of Separation.
Van, Van, we’re only simple, fallible mortals - we aren’t saints, we aren’t angels - we fall on our faces and make errors and sometimes people die of them - sometimes people we love dearly -
There was something better in life than this rubbish, if only he could get to it—love—nobility—big spaces where passion clasped peace, spaces no science could reach, but they existed for ever, full of woods some of them, and arched with majes...
When you're young, you think it's going to be solved by love. But it never is. Being close-as close as you can get-to another person only makes it clear the impassable distance between you.
And only now, when he was gray-haired, had he fallen in love properly, thoroughly, for the first time in his life.
...I don't believe you should be a virgin when you get married,' Sera said. 'You should experiment. Men do' 'Yes, but only if you're in love with them,' I said.
He wished he was doing much more than kissing the back of her silky hand, though throwing her on the bar and devouring her like a man-eater wasn't a wise option. But... he was only human.
Peace doesn't require two people; it requires only one. It has to be you. The problem begins and ends there.
The reason why a man cannot stop staring at a woman ass is only because God has spent 80 percent of his time and efforts on woman ass and 20 percent on her entire body.
Every day I give you my heart. At the end of the year, there are hundreds of hearts, which I will give to you. Heart to heart only for you, and even more hearts - in a heartless time.
Always, God’s timing is the right time. Things happen when they have to happen and you only realise it later.” – Ernesto.
