Love and Dreams - Quotes
Love of all creatures, humankind or kind, needn't always be repaid, reciprocated, or even known.
But if you feel something for someone today, do not hold back your emotions. If he or she cannot be in your possession, he or she is without the pain you might give in this, albeit beautiful but crazy dilemma of love, but will be loved by you for as long as you can remember. And to truly be stirred in this strawberry swirl of sweetness, is a moment to be thankful for. To love is the greatest gift of life, and to be loved, always something to be grateful for.
And to proclaim your love for someone, girls, that is something you'd always thank yourself for. That is more courage than the most respectable and romantic guy could ever muster. And if the guy turns out to be a pig about it, step away and smile. Because, thank God, you never had him.
"I wish you'd get married," Mrs. Glass said, abruptly, wistfully. Everyone in the Glass family --- Zooey certainly not least --- was familiar with this sort of nonsequitur from Mrs. Glass. It bloomed best, most sublimely, in the middle of an emotional flareup of just this kind. This time, it caught Zooey very much off guard, however. He gave an explosive sound, mostly through the nose, of either laughter or the opposite of laughter. Mrs. Glass quickly and anxiously leaned forward to see which it was. It was laughter, more or less, and she sat back, relieved. "Well, I do," she insisted. "Why don't you?" Relaxing his stance, Zooey took a folded linen handkerchief from his hip pocket, flipped it open, then used it to blow his nose once, twice, three times. He put away the handkerchief, saying, "I like to ride in trains too much. You never get to sit next to the window any more when you're married."
Franny and Zooey
(contributed by David)
Do you know the most surprising thing about divorce? It doesn't actually kill you. Like a bullet to the heart or a head-on car wreck. It should. When someone you've promised to cherish till death do you part says "I never loved you," it should kill you instantly. You shouldn't have to wake up day after day after that, trying to understand how in the world you didn't know. The light just never went on, you know. I must have known, of course, but I was too scared to see the truth. Then fear just makes you so stupid.
Under the Tuscan Sun
(contributed by Kitten)
You teach me now how cruel you've been - cruel and false. Why did you despise me? Why did you betray your own heart, Cathy? I have not one word of comfort. You deserve this. You have killed yourself. Yes, you may kiss me, and cry; and wring out my kisses and tears: they'll blight you - they'll damn you. You loved me - then what right had you to leave me? What right - answer me - for the poor fancy you felt for Linton? Because misery and degradation, and death, and nothing that God or Satan could inflict would have parted us, you, of your own will, did it. I have not broken your heart - you have broken it; and in breaking it, you have broken mine. So much the worse for me that I am strong. Do I want to live? What kind of living will it be when you - oh, God! would you like to live with your soul in the grave?
I know that you can love me, when there's no one left to blame.
(contributed by P)
The brain may take advice, but not the heart, and love having no geography, knows no boundaries: weight and sink it deep, no matter, it will rise and find the surface: and why not? Any love is natural and beautiful that lies within a person's nature; only hypocrites would hold a man responsible for what he loves, emotional illiterates and those of righteous envy, who, in their agitated concern, mistake so frequently the arrow pointing to heaven for the one that leads to hell.
Other Voices, Other Rooms
(contributed by Meg)
Sometimes when I look at you, I feel I'm gazing at a distant star. It's dazzling, but the light is from tens of thousands of years ago. Maybe the star doesn't even exist any more. Yet sometimes that light seems more real to me than anything.
South of the Border, West of the Sun
(contributed by Space Oddity)
It is said there are flowers that bloom only once in a hundred years. Why should there not be some that bloom once in a thousand, in ten thousand years? Perhaps we never know about then simply because this "once in a thousand years" has come today.
(contributed by Space Oddity)
I've dreamt in my life dreams that have stayed with me ever after, and changed my ideas; they've gone through and through me like wine through water, and altered the colour of my mind.
(contributed by Space Oddity)
Perhaps all our loves are merely hints and symbols; vagabond-language scrawled on gate posts and paving-stones along the weary road road that others have trampled before us; perhaps you and I are types and this sadness which sometimes falls between us springs from disappointment in our search, each straining through and beyond the other, snatching a glimpse now and then of the shadow which turns the corner always a pace ot two ahead of us.
(contributed by Space Oddity)
In love you must... Risk more than others think is safe. Care more than others think is wise. Dream more than others think is practical. Expect more than others think is possible.
(contributed by Daniel White)
I should scorn to shiver with terror at the thought of annihilation. Happiness is nonetheless true happiness because it must come to an end, nor do thought and love lose their value because they are not everlasting.
There was such an incredible logic to kissing, such a metal-magnet pull between two people that it was a wonder that they found the strength to prevent themselves from succumbing every second. Rightfully the world should be a whirlpool of kissing into which we sank and never found the strength to rise up again.
(contributed by Erin)
As thin as the line between love and hate is, you must take every precaution possible in order to prevent their mixing, for whenever one is felt for the other it is a bad thing.
(contributed by Ben)
I'm not a concept. Too many guys think I'm a concept or I complete them or I'm going to make them alive, but I'm just a fucked up girl who is looking for my own peace of mind. Don't assign me yours.
Eternal Sunshine of the Spotless Mind
There are only four question of any value in this life, Don Octavio; what is sacred, of what is the spirit made, what is worth living for and what is worth dieing for. The answer to each is the same - only love.
Don Juan Demarco
(contributed by Remington Spade)
One night when my longing for her was like a fire burning out of control in my heart and my head, I wrote her a letter that just seemed to go on and on. I poured out my whole heart in it, never looking back to see what Iíd said because I was afraid cowardice would make me stop. I didnít stop, and when a voice in my head clamored that it would be madness to mail such a letter, that I would be giving her my naked heart to hold in her hand, I ignored it with a childís breathless disregard of the consequences.
The Green Mile
(contributed by mb)
Sometimes the things that may or may not be true are the things a man needs to believe in the most. That people are basically good; that honor, courage, and virtue mean everything; that power and money, money and power mean nothing; that good always triumphs over evil; and I want you to remember this, that love... true love never dies. You remember that, boy. You remember that. Doesn't matter if it's true or not. You see, a man should believe in those things, because those are the things worth believing in.
(contributed by Laura Michelle)
It's the most terrifying day of your life, the day the first one is born. Your life, as you know it, is gone. Never to return. But they learn how to walk, and they learn how to talk, and you want to be with them. And they turn out to be the most delightful people you'll ever meet in your life.
Lost in Translation
Who can tell what metals the gods use in forging the subtle bond which we call sympathy, which we might as well call love.
(contributed by Timmi)
Curse on all laws but those which love has made! Love, free as air at sight of human ties, Spreads his light wings, and in a moment flies.
(contributed by Christophe C.)
Have you ever had the sensation of looking at someone for the first time and ever so quickly the past and future seem to fuse ? Does that not mean something ? That we felt so much, so deeply, before even speaking?
(contributed by Timmi)
You color every light and every sound all my petty emotions turn clear and black and white. I've reached permanent midnight.
(contributed by Allie)
Our lives are fractions of a whole but if the world could remain in a frame like a painting on a wall, then I think we would see the beauty, then we would stand staring in awe at our still lives posed like a bowl of oranges, like a story told by the fault lines and the soil.
Bowl of Oranges
(contributed by Allie)
Metaphors are dangerous. Love begins with a metaphor. Which is to say, love begins at the point when a woman enters her first word into our poetic memory.
The Unbearable Lightness of Being
(contributed by Patricia)
The most called-upon prerequisite of a friend is an accessible ear.
Perhaps we all give the best of our hearts, uncritically--to those who hardly think of us in return.
(contributed by Nomad)
What makes something special is not just what you have to gain, but what you feel there is to lose.
Love is not forced. It does not exist because we want it to, or because we make it so, or because we have to. It comes like a arrow on dreadful wings, sweeping down and piercing us when we weren't expecting it, because if we saw it coming we wold have deflected it and beat it away with a vengeance. And when it hits us, pierces us, it bleeds us. Leave the arrow in, patch your heart around it, and in time you'll learn to live with love. The arrow. Pull it out, and every day you'll bleed a little harder, and die a little more.
(contributed by zen42)
You can't have roots and wings, Mel. Sweet Home Alabama
(contributed by Amy Reis)
RED: You know what I love about you?
RED: Lots of stuff.That '70s Show
(contributed by Isabel Robles)
Passion gives us our greatest moments, the joy of love, the clarity of hatred, the ecstasy of grief. Buffy the Vampire Slayer
(contributed by Alyssa)
If I could die and come back as anything, it would be as one of your tears. What more would I want than to be conceived in your heart, born in your eyes, live on your cheeks and die on your lips?
(contributed by April)
The more sensitive you are, the more likely you are to be brutalised, develop scabs, never evolve. Never allow yourself to feel anything, because you always feel too much.
I don't compare my relationships to song lyrics for the simple fact that most true "love" songs create a vision of utopia, a sense of perfection... and in reality, true love isn't about perfection, but rather imperfection.
(contributed by Charlene Nielsen)
Women, aren't they perfect? It doesn't matter if they're fat, skinny, blond, or blue. If a woman is willing to give you her love, Harvard, it's the greatest gift in the world. Makes you taller, makes you smarter, makes your teeth shine. Boy-oh-boy women are perfect, perfect joy and perfect ache. Joy when you first meet them and get to know them. Ache when you leave them. Joy. Ache. Joy. Ache. Joyachejoyachejoyachejoyache.
(contributed by Jason)
What I want is to be needed. What I need is to be indispensable to somebody. Who I need is somebody that will eat up all my free time, my ego, my attention. Somebody addicted to me. A mutual addiction.
(contributed by Rxchxl)
Hold tenderly that which you cherish, for it is precious and a tight grip may crush it. Do not let the fear of dropping it cause you to hold it too tightly: the chances are, it's holding you, too.
A bird doesn't sing because it has an answer; it sings because it has a song.
On who the flies landed without being chased away by that person, was on her way to death - this was one of the unmistakeable signs. From that time on, I think, dates my obsession with flies. In times of peace, when we all lied still, I made sure to sneak close up to my mother, watching very carefully that no fly would land on her, - I waved my hat over her body, flies don't like wind and movement...
(contributed by Christophe)
Anybody can sympathize with the sufferings of a friend, but it requires a very fine nature to sympathize with a friendís success.
They've promised that dreams can come true - but forget to mention that nightmares are dreams, too. Despair, Inc.
A woman should marry the man who loves her, but never the one that she loves; that is the secret of lasting happiness.
So long a Letter
(contributed by Liz)
All that is gold does not glitter; not all those that wander are lost.
The Fellowship of the Ring
There are two types of compassion. One - is faint-hearted and sentimental. Actually, it is nothing more than impatience of the heart, that is hurrying to get rid of that hard feeling when you see other peoples' sufferings; this is not a compassion, but just an instinct will to defence yourself from misfortunes of others. But there is another compassion - real one, that demands for actions, not sentiments, it knows what it wants, and it is full of determination to do everything, what is in human power and even beyond it.
The Impatience of the Heart
...after a while, you realise that it's such a waste of time and effort to be continually on the look-out for Miss Perfect. We can reap better returns by concentrating on making our current relationships work.
Snag to Marriage Plans
When you love someone, you give them part of your heart, and at that moment, your heart is broken. It is ironic that you can't feel the pain until they give you back that piece of your heart and you try to put it back together again.
(contributed by Stephanie)
Friendship is always a sweet responsibility, never an opportunity.
I don't love women. Love has to be reinvented, we know that. The only thing women can ultimately imagine is security. Once they get that, love, beauty, everything else goes out the window. All they have left is cold disdain; that's what marriages live on nowadays. Sometimes I see women who ought to be happy, with whom I could have found companionship, already swallowed up by brutes with as much feeling as an old log....
(contributed by esmerelda)
"Just living isn't enough," said the butterfly, "one must also have freedom, sunshine, and a little flower."