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Like Love Quotes (page 80)

I love weather. I'm a connoisseur of weather. Wherever my travels take me, the first thing I do is turn on the weather channel and see what's going on, what's coming. I like to know about regional weather patterns, how storms are created in different altitudes, what kinds of clouds are forming or dissipating or blowing through, where the winds are coming from, where they've been. That's not a passion everybody shares, I know, but I don't believe there are any people on earth who, properly... Johnny Cash
He remained heartbroken, which meant one of two things: either his love was pure and true and earthshakingly significant; or he was addicted to feeling forlorn, he liked being heartbroken. Jeffrey Eugenides
Necessity knows no magic formuae—they are all left to chance. If a love is to be unforgettable, fortuities must immediately start fluttering down to it like birds to Francis of Assisi’s shoulders. Milan Kundera
David Sedaris quote: " but all of a sudden they’re poets, right, like that’s all it..."
.. but all of a sudden they’re poets, right, like that’s all it takes — being in love. David Sedaris
She took kisses like so many coats of paint […] how long and how vainly I searched for excuses which might make her amorality if not palatable at lest understandable. I realize now the time I wasted in this way; instead of enjoying her and turning aside from these preoccupations with the thought, ‘She is untrustworthy as she is beautiful. She takes love as plants do water, lightly, thoughtlessly. Lawrence Durrell
I loved most when his eyelashes twitched and he blinked, and suddenly happiness was there inside his eyes. Unmistakable. Like a single word printed on a clean white page. Augusten Burroughs
Any other vexations to report?" he asks."I love the word 'vexations.'"It's the 'x.' Nice to jump off a 'v' and bite into an 'x' like that."Just the usual ones," she says."How was the weekend?"Vexing. Not really, I just wanted to say it. You? Michael Cunningham
William Shakespeare quote: "Is love a tender thing? It is too rough, Too rude, too..."
Is love a tender thing? It is too rough, Too rude, too boist'rous; and it pricks like thorn. William Shakespeare
I guess it's going to have to hurt, I guess I'm going to have to cry, And let go of some things I've loved to get to the other sideI guess it's going to break me down, Like fallin when you try to fly, Sad but sometimes moving on with the rest of your life starts with goodbye Carrie Underwood
Paul Simon quote: "Some people never say the words ‘I love you’, for like a child..."
Some people never say the words ‘I love you’, for like a child they’re longing to be told. Paul Simon
Past one o’clock. You must have gone to bed. The Milky Way streams silver through the night. I’m in no hurry; with lightning telegrams I have no cause to wake or trouble you. And, as they say, the incident is closed. Love’s boat has smashed against the daily grind. Now you and I are quits. Why bother then To balance mutual sorrows, pains, and hurts. Behold what quiet settles on the world. Night wraps the sky in tribute from the stars. In hours like these, one rises to address The ages,... Vladimir Mayakovsky
He said that hate makes the world go round. People are afraid of what they really want. They make enemies of all the things that they would like to be. They condition themselves to not embrace what they are. Love is a clinging nausea. I tried to disagree with him. It was no use. I never saw a more honest look in anyone's eyes. Henry Rollins
Earlier in my life I thought the things that mattered were the things that you could see, like your car, your house, your wealth, your property, your office. But as I've grown older I've become convinced that the things that matter most are the things that you can't see -- the love you share with others, your inner purpose, your comfort with who you are. Jimmy Carter
Into this new love, dieyour way beginson the other sidebecome the skytake an axe to the prison wall, escapewalk out like someonesuddenly born into colordo it now Rumi
If there are words and wrongs like knives, whose deep inflicted lacerations never heal - cutting injuries and insults of serrated and poison-dripping edge - so, too, there are consolations of tone too fine for the ear not fondly and for ever to retain their echo: caressing kindnesses - loved, lingered over through a whole life, recalled with unfaded tenderness, and answering the call with undimmed shine, out of that raven cloud foreshadowing Death himself. Charlotte Bronte

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