When we have developed a trust in both our inner man and woman and they can nourish, support, communicate and cooperate with each other, a love begins to flow between them.
It'll turn out you mean love,' Sholto said. 'At the moment math is the only thing that excites you so you're nosing around numbers as if numbers are life. But in two years you'll be telling me about some boy.
Yet magic is no more the art of employing consciously invisible means to produce visible effects. Will, love, and imagination are magic powers that everyone possesses; and whoever knows how to develop them to their fullest extent is a magician. Magic...
The battle was over. Our casualties were some thirteen thousand killed--thirteen thousand minds, memories, loves, sensations, worlds, universes--because the human mind is more a universe than the universe itself--and all for a few hundred yards of us...
We hurt so much because we have lost a part of ourselves. If we have loved much, we must have given much also, and when everything's over, we feel as though we have lost everything.
Stand up for the underdog, the 'loser.' Sometimes having the strength to show loving support for unacknowledged others turns the tides of our own lives.
How differently we behave in other peoples countries ... no sooner than we think we can get away with it, we do as we please. It doesn't require the breakdown of a social order. It takes a six-hour plane flight.
A day without your child is like a day without sunshine; a month without your child is like a month without laughter; a year without your child is like a year without your heart; a lifetime without your child is like a lifetime without your soul…
The impulse came to her clairvoyantly, and she obeyed without a sign of hesitation. Deeper comprehension would come to her of the whole awful puzzle. And come it did, yet not in the way she imagined and expected.
You may have lost someone, but you’ve found something immeasurably more valuable: God,’ she told me. ‘And God’s love lasts forever.
Some people are like that - always searching fro something better, never satisfied.,Makes you wonder if they ever get a good night's sleep. They must toss and turn, dreaming about a softer mattress or a plumper pillow.
you shoulda known the entirety of the trap, a**hole, love means eventual pain victory means eventual defeat grace means eventual slovenliness, there's no way out...you see, you understand?
If it’s not clear enough in the piece, I love it when people things to me they know and I’m interested in but don’t yet know. It’s when they explain things to me I know and they don’t that the conversation goes awry.
I felt afraid. No one would know that, not Mother and not Mike. I’d keep the fear pushed down inside of me, and no one would know it was there. “I’m awfully happy,” I wrote. I was. Awfully happy and awfully in love, and tomorrow I was marryin...
Most bad," the host concluded. "If you ask me, something sinister lurks in men who avoid wine, games, the company of lovely women, and dinnertime conversation. Such people are either gravely ill or secretly detest everyone around them.
You asked why I couldn't forgive you," Nick said, very quietly, and I jumped a little. "It was because you were the love of my life, Harper. And you didn't want to be. That's hard to let go.
How terrible it must be not to see and feel beauty.... I'm so glad I can find happiness in all lovely little things... It seems to me that every time I look out of a window the world gives me a gift.
Everyone wants to be the one to get the mattress pad. ... We can do this. We all love to do. The more we can do, the less we have to sit and stare at trees and think about the transient nature of life." - 131
I had jumped off the edge, and then, at the very last moment, something reached out and caught me in midair. That something is what I define as love. It is the one thing that can stop a man from falling, powerful enough to negate the laws of gravity.
The kiss stayed there with no place to go, no sensory reserve that could absorb it and file it away as a common act of intimacy, a thousand times received. He knew what Anna was asking: whether you could love someone without habits.
Maybe you've understood by now that for men like myself, that is, melancholy men for whom love, agony, happiness and misery are just excuses for maintaining eternal loneliness, life offers neither great joy nor great sadness.
