My Love Only For U Quotes

You said that it would be the two of us from now on, if this happened. That there would be no more Audrey, no other woman. That you'd come to me to be comforted, to be cared for."
He took great handfuls of her own wonderfully soft hair and framed her face in his lean hands. He bent to kiss her with breathless tenderness, savoring her warm mouth. "I will. Even if I don't know that I can cope with that again," he said huskily.
"With lovemaking?"
He took a long, long look at her. "You don't know much about this," he said finally. "There are…degrees of pleasure. Sometimes it's good, sometimes it's even great. Once in a lifetime or so, it's sacred."
"I don't understand."
"You were a virgin," he whispered solemnly. "But we joined souls. I was inside you, but you were inside me, too." He nuzzled her nose with his. "I remember wondering if a man could die of pleasure, just at the last. It was so good that it was almost painful."
She smiled. "I know. I love you," she said softly.
He looked away from her. His hands on her shoulders were bruising.
"Sorry," she murmured, pulling away. "You don't want to hear that. But it's a fact of life, like middens and projectile points and horizons in archaeology. I can't help it, and it isn't as if you didn't already know. I couldn't have slept with you only because I wanted you. Not with my past."
He knew that. He knew it to the soles of his feet. He was confused and afraid and overwhelmed by the passi ~ Diana Palmer

My body is marked with you. My arms. My chest. My eyes. My head. My heart." Tears rolled down her cheeks. "I can't erase you. I'd have to die to be free of you. D-don't you see that, Gris? C-can't you see? There is only you for me. ~ Katy Regnery

How baffling you are, oh Church, and yet how I love you! How you have made me suffer, and yet how much I owe you! I would like to see you destroyed, and yet I need your presence. You have given me so much scandal and yet you have made me understand what sanctity is. I have seen nothing in the world more devoted to obscurity, more compromised, more false, and yet I have touched nothing more pure, more generous, more beautiful. How often I have wanted to shut the doors of my soul in your face, and how often I have prayed to die in the safety of your arms.

No, I cannot free myself from you, because I am you, though not completely. And besides, where would I go? Would I establish another? I would not be able to establish it without the same faults, for they are the same faults I carry in me. And if I did establish another, it would be my Church, not the Church of Christ. I am old enough to know that I am no better than anyone else. …)

The Church has the power to make me holy but it is made up, from the first to the last, only of sinners. And what sinners! It has the omnipotent and invincible power to renew the Miracle of the Eucharist, but is made up of men who are stumbling in the dark, who fight every day against the temptation of losing their faith. It brings a message of pure transparency but it is incarnated in slime, such is the substance of the world. It speaks of the sweetness of its Master, of its non-violence, but there was a time in history when ~ Carlo Carretto

It is very important that you should choose the person you will marry and stay with that person. There are many people now who believe in serial love, loving one person after another. I don't think that is good for our mental health. I think we should get it over with. Love is like measles, you know. You only get it once in your lifetime and you are immune forever. I am very happy to say that is what happened to me. I am completely immune to any temptation. All men who have passed my life after I got married might as well have been sticks of furniture. ~ Miriam

I love you," he repeats. "I've only ever loved one girl, Tru – and that's you. It's always been you. I loved you from the moment I knew how to love."
My eyes fill with tears again, them quickly spilling over, down my cheeks.
Jake takes my face in his hands, caressing my tears away with his thumbs. "You're it for me. I want to be with you forever. I want you to be mine."
I stare deep into his eyes. "I've always been yours, and I always will be. I love you too … so much. ~ Samantha Towle

Only after the words were spoken did she realize what she had said. "My sins are all your fault, Brodick, and if I have to go to purgatory, then by God, you're going with me. Ramsey, if you do not stop laughing,I swear I shall toss you over this cliff."
"Do you love him, lass?" Father asked.
"I do not," she answered emphatically.
"It isn't a requirement," Laggan pointed out.
"I should hope not," she cried.
"But it would make your life easier," he countered.
"Gillian, you will tell the truth," Brodick demanded.
He grabbed hold of her hand. She tried to pull back, but he wouldn't let go.
"I have told the truth. I don't love Ramsey, and if he doesn't stop laughing at me, the Sinclairs will soon be looking for a new laird."
"Not Ramsey," Laggan shouted so he could be heard over Ramsey's laughter. "I'm asking you if you love Brodick."
"Did you tell Father I love you? Who else did you tell? ~ Julie Garwood

I had tried years earlier to kill myself, and nearly died in the attempt, but did not consider it either a selfish or a not-selfish thing to have done. It was simply the end of what I could bear, the last afternoon of having to imagine waking up the next morning only to start all over again with a thick mind and black imaginings. It was the final outcome of a bad disease, a disease it seemed to me I would never get the better of. No amount of love from or for other people0and there was a lot-could help. No advantage of a caring family and fabulous job was enough to overcome the pain and hopelessness I felt; no passionate or romantic love, however strong, could make a difference. Nothing alive and warm could make its way in through my carapace. I knew my life to be a shambles, and I believed-incontestably-that my family, friends, and patients would be better off without me. There wasn't much of me left anymore, anyway, and I thought my death would free up the wasted energies and well-meant efforts that were being wasted on my behalf. (290) ~ Kay Redfield Jamison

With an obscure hesitation one steps into the day and its frame and its costume. Between the puzzlement and its summary abandonment, between the folds of waking consciousness and their subsequent limitation, is a possible city. Solitude, hotels, aging, love, hormones, alcohol, illness – these drifting experiences open it a little. Sometimes prolonged reading holds it ajar. Another's style of consciousness inflects one's own; an odd syntactic manner, a texture of embellishment, pause. A new mode of rest. I can feel physiologically haunted by a style. It's why I read ideally, for the structured liberation from the personal, yet the impersonal inflection can persist outside the text, beyond the passion of readerly empathy, a most satisfying transgression that arrives only inadvertently, never by force of intention. As if seized by a fateful kinship, against all the odds of sociology, the reader psychically assumes the cadence of the text. She sheds herself. This description tends towards a psychological interpretation of linguistics, but the experience is also spatial. I used to drive home from my lover's apartment at 2 a.m., 3 a.m. This was Vancouver in 1995. A zone of light-industrial neglect separated our two neighbourhoods. Between them the stretched-out city felt abandoned. My residual excitement and relaxation would extend outwards from my body and the speeding car, towards the dilapidated warehouses, the shut storefronts, the distant container yards, the dark exercise stu ~ Lisa Robertson

Oh, the need to lay my tongue in the rivers of wine,
To taste of her lust
How a star feels as it bursts infinitely into diamonds
The earth cries, but it is only the heavens that weep for her
The sun needs to rise once more
Cast its loving arms across the mountains and her valleys
And pull her from the shadows
To bathe her in the warmth the heart only knows as love ~ - Morris R. Gates

Speaking of body decorations, I luuhhhvv your belly piercing!" Heeb said, looking at the gold ring in the center of her slim, tan waist. Despite the artic cold, Angelina had opted for a skin tight, black tube top that ended just above her belly, on the assumption that a warm cab, a winter coat, and a short wait to get into the club was an adequate frosty weather strategy. Heeb was still reverently staring at her belly when Angelina finally caught her breath from laughing.

"Do you really like it? You're just saying that so that you can check out my belly!"

"And what's so bad about that? I mean, didn't you get that belly piercing so that people would check out your belly?"

"No. I just thought it would look cool…Do you have any piercings?"

"Actually, I do," Heeb replied.

"Where?"

"My appendix."

"Huh?"

"I wanted to be the first guy with a pierced organ. And the appendix is a totally useless organ anyway, so I figured why the hell not?"

"That's pretty original," she replied, amused.

"Oh yeah. I've outdone every piercing fanatic out there. The only problem is when I have to go through metal detectors at the airport."

Angelina burst into laughs again, and then managed to say, "Don't you have to take it out occasionally for a cleaning?"

"Nah. I figure I'll just get it removed when my appendix bursts. It'll be a two for one operation, if you know what I m ~ Zack Love

Stefan wasn't sure if it had been watching them and realizing how deep Adrian and Madeleine's attachment ran, or if it was the fact he was already half in love with Adrian, but he found himself talking before he could stop himself.
"I know we've only known each other for a year or so, so it's not really my place to offer my opinions, and I have no concept of what it's like to be a Royal - the expectations, everything involved," he started, and Adrian looked up at him. "But my parents were Diplomats, and I did learn a few things from them about how to get what you want."
"Yes?" Adrian asked guardedly.
"I've been to many courts, and seen many Lord's daughters. None of them are like Madeleine. No, wait, I'm not insulting her," he added quickly as Adrian opened his mouth to speak. "What I'm saying is, those girls are being groomed for the traditional roles your father intimated she was to take when she's older. Now you find out what she really wants - at least at nine years old - to be a Healer and to marry who she wants to. She wants the independence she sees we have."
"Brion's marriage was arranged when he was thirteen," Adrian told him. "He seems happy enough, and so does Gwyne, for that matter, but she'd been preparing to be his wife since she was - since she was younger than Maddy."
"But the rest of you haven't been," Stefan pointed out, and Adrian nodded in agreement. "One of the basic ideas I grew up with was compromise, giving up just enough to m ~ Wendy Clements

I feel good with my husband: I like his warmth and his bigness and his being-there and his making and his jokes and stories and what he reads and how he likes fishing and walks and pigs and foxes and little animals and is honest and not vain or fame-crazy and how he shows his gladness for what I cook him and joy for when I make him something, a poem or a cake, and how he is troubled when I am unhappy and wants to do anything so I can fight out my soul-battles and grow up with courage and a philosophical ease. I love his good smell and his body that fits with mine as if they were made in the same body-shop to do just that. What is only pieces, doled out here and there to this boy and that boy, that made me like pieces of them, is all jammed together in my husband. So I don't want to look around any more: I don't need to look around for anything. ~ Sylvia Plath

But where was God now, with heaven full of astronauts, and the Lord overthrown? I miss God. I miss the company of someone utterly loyal. I still don't think of God as my betrayer. The servants of God, yes, but servants by their very nature betray. I miss God who was my friend. I don't even know if God exists, but I do know that if God is your emotional role model, very few human relationships will match up to it. I have an idea that one day it might be possible, I thought once it had become possible, and that glimpse has set me wandering, trying to find the balance between earth and sky. If the servants hadn't rushed in and parted us, I might have been disappointed, might have snatched off the white samite to find a bowl of soup.

As it is, I can't settle, I want someone who is fierce and will love me until death and know that love is as strong as death, and be on my side for ever and ever. I want someone who will destroy and be destroyed by me. There are many forms of love and affection, some people can spend their whole lives together without knowing each other's names. Naming is a difficult and time-consuming process; it concerns essences, and it means power. But on the wild nights who can call you home? Only the one who knows your name. Romantic love has been diluted into paperback form and has sold thousands and millions of copies. Somewhere it is still in the original, written on tablets of stone. I would cross seas and suffer sunstroke and give away all I ha ~ Jeanette Winterson

The only ghosts, I believe, who creep into this world, are dead
young mothers, returned to see how their children fare. There is
no other inducement great enough to bring the departed back.
They glide into the acquainted room when day and night, their
jailers, are in the grip, and whisper, "How is it with you, my
child?" but always, lest a strange face should frighten him, they
whisper it so low that he may not hear. They bend over him to
see that he sleeps peacefully, and replace his sweet arm beneath
the coverlet, and they open the drawers to count how many little
vests he has. They love to do these things.

What is saddest about ghosts is that they may not know their
child. They expect him to be just as he was when they left him,
and they are easily bewildered, and search for him from room to
room, and hate the unknown boy he has become. Poor, passionate
souls, they may even do him an injury. These are the ghosts that
go wailing about old houses, and foolish wild stories are
invented to explain what is all so pathetic and simple. I know
of a man who, after wandering far, returned to his early home to
pass the evening of his days in it, and sometimes from his chair
by the fire he saw the door open softly and a woman's face
appear. She always looked at him very vindictively, and then
vanished. Strange things happened in this house. Windows were < ~ J.M. Barrie

When I pursued an education in healing in the USA in 1984, I was told that I had the capacity to become a crownchakrahealer, a spiritual healer, to act as a channel and catalyst for spiritual energy from the 7th chakra through the heart. At that time I had no idea what a crownchakrahealer really was and since than it has been a continuous process during the last 17 years to deepen and develop my understanding about what a crownchakrahealer is. This process has resulted in a way of working I call "Synchronicity – Transmission of the Light", which uses healing and energy work from the Source on a formless level. With this way of working I have worked with groups up to 80 people. It is really a way of working, which goes around the ego and speaks directly to the heart. It allows a person to come in direct contact with his own inner being, with his own life source. With my intellect I still do not understand how this way of working functions. It is not a way of working, which can be understood on a method plane. It is a way of working, which relates directly to the heart and which can only be understood through insight and experience.
One participant in Gothenburg in Sweden described his experience of Synchronicity as being like a thousand suns suddenly had been lit in his own consciousness. He says: "It was like an inner explosion, an expansion of my own consciousness – and I felt only love for the other people in the room". ~ Swami Dhyan Giten

I Never Told You
You can fill a book with everything I never said
Or the lines of a poem
Or an Empty pool
Or an empty bedroom, the candles all blown out
I never told you how the reflection of myself in your eyes
Was the only mirror I could bear to look at
Or how I fought every day
To transfuse the girl I saw there with the girl I am
I tried to breathe in the words you made me:
beautiful
good
brave
I tried to be them for you even though they were weighted with impossibility
I never told you
how I always feared the rough edges of myself were too sharp for you
and how I fought everyday to blunt them
To bring down the walls
To let you in
without cutting you because I could never bear to hurt you like the others did
Every day
a fierce pride roared in me
I was so lucky to know the truth
I was the beneficiary of your radiance
I basked in it and felt special
And if not for the pain of your solitude
I would have been content to be the only one
I never told you
How your touch made me feel like laughing and crying and singing all at once
How your hand passing over my skin where atrocities
Had not yet sloughed off,
Skin cells remembering the worst touches
Was like a tide washing over the ruddy sand
And leaving it whole and smooth
You made my skin forget
Gave me new memories
New sensations that didn't drag th ~ Emma Scott

I have never cared for Castles
or a Crown that grips too tight,
Let the night sky be my starry roof
and the moon my only light,
My Heart was born a Hero,
my storm-bound sword won't rest,
I left the Harbour long ago
on a Never-ending Quest,
I am off to the horizon,
where the wild wind blows the foam,
Come get lost with me, love,
and the sea shall be our home! ~ Cressida Cowell

Under the continual contact with the pebbles my feet have become hardened and used to the ground. My body, almost constantly nude, no longer suffers from the sun. Civilization is falling from me little by little. I am beginning to think simply, to feel only very little hatred for my neighbor - rather, to love him. ~ Paul Gauguin

he said, "Don't you give him too much love?" "You can never give a child too much love," I said. "You can only give them too little love. Love doesn't make a child weaker, it makes a child stronger." That was an odd one for my dad to hear. If I ever heard someone telling Evan not to cry, not to be a baby, anything like that, I made a point of telling Evan the truth that I had discovered: people who hide their emotions are weak. You find strength and peace by being open. ~ Paul Stanley

These new words were heard by my love; they persuaded it that the next day would not be different from what all the other days had been; that Gilberte's feeling for me, already too old to be able to change, was indifference; that in my friendship with Gilberte, I was the only one who loved. "It's true," my love answered, "there's nothing more to be done with this friendship, it won't change." And so, the very next day (or waiting for a public holiday if there was one coming up soon, or an anniversary, or the New Year perhaps, one of those days which are not like the others, when time makes a fresh start by rejecting the heritage of the past, by not accepting the legacy of its sorrows) I would ask Gilberte to give up our old friendship and lay the foundations of a new one. ~ Marcel Proust

Love says, I have her in the palm of my hands and I will massage away any doubts and any fears until she stands confidently, and securely in my love for her. Ego says, "I have her in the palm of my hands and I will manipulate her until she is weak, fearful and totally dependent on me; only then can I be certain of her love for me. Choose love. ~ J. Autherine

When I began to work with people almost 22 years ago, it was an insight for me that I really cared about the other person, and that it was this love that was communicated beyond the words to the other person. One of my course participants – who is a teacher – described this very beautifully when he said that he was impressed by my intuition and by my way of conducting therapeutic work – or, as he would rather call this, "giving insights into love". Love is what allows us to go beyond the surface of the other person and to touch his inner being, his inner essence. Without love, it is only possible to reach the personality of the other person, to reach the surface and periphery of the other person. ~ Swami Dhyan Giten

We are each of us the result of billions of years of the universe evolving toward its own splendor. And evolution builds: the very mitochondria that power our cells and give us life once existed as separate organisms that first infected our pre–pre–human ancestors and then became one with them. We each contain not only the slime mold and the worm, the fish and amphibian and reptile, but the pig and the ape and the barely human. If we look hard enough, we can discern hundreds of parts: kings and queens, warriors and troubadours, mages, bullies, and saints. And hustlers, adventurers, survivors, rebels, reactionaries, and rogues. And the part of us that wants to be more than human, or rather more fully human. I believe that we need to enlist all these separate selves into a single army of free companions who respect each other and love each other to the death. And who are willing to devote their lives to fight together in order to win a shared splendor.
I will return to this theme of integration again and again, for it is key to everything. All of my characters struggle with themselves, and face as well external obstacles such as exploding stars or dragons or icy wastelands cold enough to freeze the breath. Maram, who writes poems glorifying his second chakra (the body's sexual center), pants like a dog after every enticing woman he sees. Even as he resists his essential nobility and destiny as a hero, he insists that every man deserves at least one vice. When it is pointed ~ David Zindell

ZOE
given some liberty from heaven God
young and a rebel
Is this why you chose me
up against it all
I wonder what's in store
for this rebel you say I reveal?
but I don't think I have that
rebel appeal

but I am radical in a heavenly
sort of way
and all the other angels do
look up to me
but only every other day

and you still love me God
with delight
you often say
you once said
"when you grow
then you will know
as the rebel in you will show"
this rebel you say I will reveal
I don't think I have that rebel appeal

but I am radical in a
moral religious purity way
but all the other angels did say
that I really should read that Bible
before I pray
my morals do seem to sway

sent to this world of giveaway
this world of moral decay
get these sinners back on side
fixated on my holy ride

this rebel you say I reveal
I don't think I have that rebel appeal
I know this rebel you want to see
but this rebel I don't think it is in me

revolutionist
revolutionary
rebellious
rebelliously
rebel

I don't think I am
but I do like to sell God's plan ~ R.M. Romarney

After a minute I leaned back, elbows on the table, and looked up for the twinkle of the first star in the evening sky. When we were little, it was a ritual Finn and I did on the front porch. He'd make his wish silently, and I would too, but I never could keep a secret; and I'd tell him what I wished every time. He'd always tell me it wouldn't come true, but I didn't believe him. I'd had plenty of them come true, from a new box of crayons showing up out of nowhere to a bag of candy left on my bed. It had been a while, though, and the only thing I'd wish for now was impossible. I found the first star in a patch of burnt-orange sky, above the crinkly purple mountains in the distance, and then I wished my brother back anyway. ~ Jessi Kirby

The only thing a boyfriend was good for was a shattered heart. ~ Becca Fitzpatrick

I like my eggs sunny side up at midnight, and I wear sunglasses when I eat them because they are so bright. They're almost as blinding as my love for you, only not as runny. ~ Jarod Kintz

This was my moment to look for the kind of healing and peace that can only come from solitude. ~ Elizabeth Gilbert

Main Street is dead, which is no news to the families whose families ran family businesses on Main Street. When I returned...I found that all the local businesses from my childhood had been extirpated by Wal-Mart. If there is one single symbol for the demise of regional American culture, it is this superstore prototype, a huge capitalist boot that stomped the moms and pops, like soft, damp worms, to death. Don't get me wrong. I love Wal-Mart. There is nothing I like more than to consign a mindless afternoon to those aisles, suspending thought, judgment. It's like television. But to a documentarian of American culture, Wal-Mart is a nightmare. When it comes to towns, Hope, Alabama, becomes the same as Hope, Wyoming, or, for that matter, Hope, Alaska, and in the end, all that remains of our pioneering aspirations are the confused and self-conscious simulacra of relic culture: Ye Olde Curiosities 'n' Copie Shoppe, Deadeye Dick's Saloon and Karaoke Bar - ingenious hybrids and strange global grafts that are the local businessperson's only chance of survival in economies of scale. ~ Ruth Ozeki

Be strong for my boys; they need a woman who will not only show them what the power of a strong woman's love is capable of doing for the soul, but they need a woman who will fight to keep them. ~ Aurora Rose Reynolds

He pulled back, but only enough to lock his eyes onto mine as he held my face in his hands. "It will always be you, Cassandra," he whispered against my lips. Then he kissed me again, much softer this time, as if gently transferring every ounce of love he had for me onto my lips. I didn't need any words, this was all I ever needed to know that he loved me.
Everything around me faded. All my worries, all my fears disappeared when he touched me. We weren't stuck in this Hell, we weren't even in its realm. We were in our own world, no one around to save, or to slay. God, if only we could stay here. I didn't want to face reality, not when I had him here with me now, not after thinking I'd lost him. ~ L.J. Kentowski

Words are harsh mistresses, to be sure. Like petulant divas, they want only those parts that play to their talents and mask their blemishes, and only when complete companies of players who love their parts are assembled will they sing in harmony. I am your director for this stage production and will employ my best wiles to create a performance both truthful, and beautiful. I know that words are tricksters who show one face to you and another to me, so I am never certain you'll hear in your head what I hear in my head. Since I deliver even this little truth with words, I acknowledge the irony. ~ Dennis Vickers

Trying to live in the past didn't work for me, and it's only now that I fully realize I'm incredibly lucky it didn't. Because it would have been all too sad to miss out on right now. That would have turned the past into a fraud. It would have meant all my happy memories were a lie. It would have meant all that time and all that love was a waste, leading up to a wasted future. It would have been the ultimate betrayal of everything I thought my whole life was about and everyone I cared about. All the people who loved me, in all the times and places of my life - all the people who made a lover out of me - they would have all been wrong about me. And it could have happened easily, just like that. It's scary to think of how I could have gotten stuck pining for the past. I was lucky to get a second chance. I thought I was too late, but it turns out I was just in time. ~ Rob Sheffield

Dear Miss Independent,
I've decided that of all the women I've ever known, you are the only one I will ever love more than hunting, fishing, football, and power tools.
You may not know this, but the other time I asked you to marry me, the night I put the crib together, I meant it. Even though I knew you weren't ready.
God, I hope you're ready now.
Marry me, Ella. Because no matter where you go or what you do, I'll love you every day for the rest of my life.
- Jack ~ Lisa Kleypas

The majority of people I've come across in life have treated me unfairly. I'd be a liar if I said it didn't hurt; I have this deep wound in my soul I feel all the time, but I still choose to love despite my moments of anger and selfishness. Love is the only true, everlasting thing we all live for and who am I to rob someone of experiencing that? ~ Evan Stark

He looked her face over, loving the strong features and the short hair and the piercing forest green eyes. "I never would have asked you, you know…to blow everything you have here away for me."
"That's only one of the reasons I love you."
"Will you tell me the others later?"
"Maybe." She slipped her hand between his legs, shocking the shit out of him and making him gasp. "Might show you, too."
He covered her mouth with his and pushed his tongue into her as he backed her up against the wall. He didn't care if Rhage waited on the front lawn for an extra - His phone went off. And kept ringing. V lifted his head and looked through the window by the front door. Rhage was on the front lawn, phone to his ear, staring back. The brother made a show of checking his watch, then flashing his middle finger at V. Vishous pounded a fist into the Sheetrock and stepped off from Jane. "I'm coming back at the end of the night. Be naked."
"Wouldn't you rather undress me?"
"No, because I'd shred that shirt, and I want you sleeping in it every night until you're in my bed with me. Be. Naked."
"We'll see."
His whole body throbbed at the disobedience. And she knew it, her stare level and erotic. "God, I love you," he said.
"I know. Now run along and kill something. I'll be waiting for you."
He smiled at her. "Couldn't love you more if I tried."
"Ditto."
He kissed her and dematerialized out front to Rhage's side, making sure some ~ J.R. Ward

Nameless, unknown to me as you were, I couldn't forget your voice!'
'For how long?'
'O - ever so long. Days and days.'
'Days and days! Only days and days? O, the heart of a man! Days and days!'
'But, my dear madam, I had not known you more than a day or two. It was not a full-blown love - it was the merest bud - red, fresh, vivid, but small. It was a colossal passion in embryo. It never returned. ~ Thomas Hardy

I love a serious preacher, who speaks for my sake and not for his own; who seeks my salvation, and not his own vain glory. He best deserves to be heard who uses speech only to clothe his thoughts, and his thoughts only to promote truth and virtue. ~ Jean Baptiste Massillon

I can't tell you what love is, I really don't know that there's a concrete definition for it. But I can tell you what love is to me. When I was younger it was the way I got butterflies in the pit of my stomach every time your name was mentioned, it was the way my mind only wanted to think of you; daydream of you. The way I yearned for you and laughed louder when I was with you. You made me feel safe, cherished and happy despite my unhappiness. (...) Love is knowing that one day when I'm old and my body aches, my heart won't, because I'll be with you. ~ Claire Contreras

Believe instead in love. It is my faith that love shaped the universe as you shape your clocks, delighting in creation. I believe that just as you wish to give me your clock in love, refusing payment, so God loves me and gave Himself for me. That is my faith. I cannot presume to force it upon you, I can only ask you in friendship to consider it. ~ Elizabeth Goudge

I've always known that the quality of love was the mind, even though the body sometimes refuses this knowledge. The body lives for itself. It lives only to feed and wait for the night. It's essentially nocturnal. But what of the mind which is born of the sun, William, and must spend thousands of hours of a lifetime awake and aware? Can you balance off the body, that pitiful, selfish thing of night against a whole lifetime of sun and intellect? I don't know. I only know there has been your mind here and my mind here, and the afternoons have been like none I can remember. ~ Ray Bradbury

Divorced people try to maintain at least a shred of respect for their former spouses. They say, He or she is the parent of my children and I will do it for that reason. This statement brings me down. I always feel defeated after hearing it. As if that's the only reason there is to err on the side of slack toward this person you once loved, slept next to, cried over, made love to, bought presents for, married. I also think it's a lot of heavy webbing to drape over the kids, as if you're offering your tolerance as some hard-earned prize: See how I sacrifices for my children by continuing to endure that freak show that is the other person?
I always hope there is more to it. This is a person, after all, whom we pluck out of a crowd of possibilities. Magic attends that choice. Or if that word belongs irrevocably to the World of Disney, then use the word mystery. At any rate, it's a remarkable kind of calculus that makes you look at a field of men or women and quickly zero in on the one person who turns you on most. ~ Wendy Plump

Every time we reach in to the cave of our loving heart and deliver an act of kindness, and touch another, we are truly sending a beautiful arrow of our love from our heart straight in to God's heart. When we purely serve another - whether it's someone hurting and confused, the cranky person at work, or the slightly strange elderly woman we help up the elevator - we are actually serving the beauty of God who lives within that person. In essence, we are magnificently surrendering to a higher and divine Love. My dear friends, lets be those beautiful instruments of that divine love. Lets open our wings and deliver small acts of everyday kindness, no matter how big or small. Remember, this divine love; is never wasted. It only flows out and becomes a great big ocean of oneness love for all ~ Angie Karan

Most of Cecilia's friends were talkers. Their voices overlapped in their desperation to tell their stories. I've always hated vegetables . . . The only vegetable my child will eat is broccoli . . . My kid loves raw carrots . . . I love raw carrots! You had to jump right in without waiting for a pause in the conversation, because otherwise you'd never get your turn. But women like Tess didn't seem to have that need to share the ordinary facts of their lives, and that made Cecilia desperate to know them. Does her kid like broccoli? she'd ~ Liane Moriarty

Whoever wants to become a Christian must first become a poet. That's what it is! You must suffer. You must love and suffer--suffer for the one you love. Love makes effort for the loved one. She runs all through the night; she stays awake; she stains her feet with blood in order to meet her beloved. She makes sacrifices and disregards all impediments, threats, and difficulties for the sake of the loved one. Love towards Christ is something even higher, infinitely higher.

And when we say 'love', we don't mean the virtues that we will acquire, but the heart that is pervaded by love towards Christ and others. We need to turn everything in this direction. Do we see a mother with her child in her arms and bending to give the child a kiss, her heart overflowing with emotion? Do we notice how her face lights up as she holds her little angel? These things do not escape a person with love of God. He sees them and is impressed by them and he says, 'If only I had those emotions towards my God, towards my Holy Lady and our saints!' Look, that's how we must love Christ our God. You desire it, you want it, and with the grace of God you acquire it. ~ Gerōn Porphyrios