My Love Quotes (page 75)
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Presentation was the name of the Catholic church [my mother's family] attended, and this is what I love about the Irish: My mother became known as the second prettiest girl at Presentation parish. “Why was that okay?” I once asked her. “Oh, because everybody knew Mary Griffin was the most beautiful girl at Presentation,” she replied. My mom was happy to be on the D-list! Just like I’m not trying to be Brooke Shields, she wasn’t trying to be Mary Griffin.
Kathy Griffin
One morning, in cool blood, I slipped a noose about its neck and hung it to the limb of a tree;? hung it with the tears streaming from my eyes, and with the bitterest remorse at my heart;? hung it because I knew that it had loved me, and because I felt it had given me no reason of offence;? hung it because I knew that in so doing I was committing a sin? a deadly sin that would so jeopardize my immortal soul as to place it? if such a thing were possible? even beyond the reach of the infinite...
Edgar Allan Poe
Stigmata of LoveA light which lives on what the flames devour, a grey landscape surrounding me with scorch, a crucifixion by a single wound, a sky and earth that darken by each hour, a sob of blood whose red ribbon adornsa lyre without a pulse, and oils the torch, a tide which stuns and strands me on the reef, a scorpion scrambling, stinging in my chest--this is the wreath of love, this bed of thornsis where I dream of you stealing my rest, haunting these sunken ribs cargoed with grief. I...
Federico Garcia Lorca
Failure. Because God put His adamantine fate. Between my sullen heart and its desire, I swore that I would burst the Iron Gate, Rise up, and curse Him on His throne of fire. Earth shuddered at my crown of blasphemy, But Love was as a flame about my feet; Proud up the Golden Stair I strode; and beat. Thrice on the Gate, and entered with a cry --All the great courts were quiet in the sun, And full of vacant echoes: moss had grown. Over the glassy pavement, and begun. To creep within the dusty...
Rupert Brooke
It has made me better loving you... it has made me wiser, and easier, and brighter. I used to want a great many things before, and to be angry that I did not have them. Theoretically, I was satisfied. I flattered myself that I had limited my wants. But I was subject to irritation; I used to have morbid sterile hateful fits of hunger, of desire. Now I really am satisfied, because I can’t think of anything better. It’s just as when one has been trying to spell out a book in the twilight, and...
Henry James
Enough! we're tired, my heart and I. We sit beside the headstone thus, And wish that name were carved for us. The moss reprints more tenderly. The hard types of the mason's knife, As Heaven's sweet life renews earth's life. With which we're tired, my heart and I .... In this abundant earth no doubt. Is little room for things worn out: Disdain them, break them, throw them by! And if before the days grew rough. We once were loved, used, - well enough, I think, we've fared, my heart and I.
Elizabeth Barrett Browning
On the blue summer evenings, I will go along the paths, And walk over the short grass, as I am pricked by the wheat: Daydreaming I will feel the coolness on my feet. I will let the wind bathe my bare head. I will not speak, I will have no thoughts: But infinite love will mount in my soul; And I will go far, far off, like a gypsy, through the countryside - as happy as if I were a woman. "Sensation
Arthur Rimbaud
I want to write about people I love, and put them into a fictional world spun out of my own mind, not the world we actually have, because the world we actually have does not meet my standards," Dick wrote of these stories. "In my writing I even question the universe; I wonder out loud if it is real, and I wonder out loud if all of us are real.
Philip K. Dick
Sometimes I knew in all my mind and heart why I had done what I had done, and I welcomed the sacrifice. But there were times too when I lived in a desert and felt no joy and saw no hope and could not remember my old feelings. Then I lived by faith alone, faith without hope. What good did I get from it? I got to have love in my heart.
Wendell Berry
I would like to tell about war and friendship among the various parts of the body, the arms that do battle with the feet, and the veins that make love with the arteries, or the bones with the marrow. All the stories I would like to write persecute me. When I am in my chamber, it seems as if they are all around me, like little devils, and while one tugs at my ear, another tweaks my nose, and each says to me, 'Sir, write me, I am beautiful.' Then I realize that an equally beautiful story can be...
Umberto Eco
Kate saith the world is void of might. Kate saith the men are gilded flies. Kate snaps her fingers at my vows; Kate will not hear of lovers sighs. I would I were an armed knight, Far-famed for well-won enterprise, And wearing on my swarthy brows. The garland of new-wreathed emprise. For in a moment I would pierce. The blackest files of clanging fight, And strongly strike to left and right, In dreaming of my lady's eyes. O, Kate loves well the bold and fierce; But none are bold enough for...
Alfred Lord Tennyson
You must be kidding." She says, "Having the power of life and death isn't enough. Youmust wonder what other poems are in that book."Hitting me as fast as a hiccup, me resting my weight on my good foot, just staring at her, I say no. She says, "Maybe you can live forever."And I say no. And she says, "Maybe you can make anyone love you."No. And she says, "Maybe you can turn straw into gold."And I say no and turn on my heel."Maybe you could bring about world peace," she says.
Chuck Palahniuk
Before The World Was Made
If I make the lashes dark
and the eyes more bright
and the lips more scarlet,
or ask if all be right
from mirror after mirror,
no vanity's displayed:
I'm looking for the face I had
before the world was made.
What if I look upon a man
as though on my beloved,
and my blood be cold the while
and my heart unmoved?
Why should he think me cruel
or that he is betrayed?
I'd have him love the thing that was
before the world was made.
William Butler Yeats