Quotes in category: “Love - Misc”:

And we listen to the songs that say what we feel inside.

Needing was so easy: it came naturally, like breathing. Being needed by someone else, though, that was the hard part. 

becky: i don't want to hurt you. 
leland: then don't. 

He was not my boyfriend. On the other hand, he wasn't just a friend either. Instead, our relationship was elastic, stretching between those two extremes depending on who else was around, how much either of us had to drink, and other varying factors. This was exactly what I wanted, as commitments had never really been my thing. And it wasn't like it was hard, either. The only trick was never giving more than you were willing to lose.

Three months ago, if you asked me, I would have told you that if you really loved someone, you'd let them go. But now I look at you, and I dream about her, and I see that I've been wrong. If you really love someone, I think you have to take them back.

Piglet: how do you spell love? 
Pooh: you don't spell it. you feel it.

Sometimes there's nothing to say. Sometimes silence expresses more than words. Picking up the phone, dialing a number, it can do more damage than good. But humans are afflicted with this obsessive desire to talk things to death. So we make things worse by trying to make things better.

The worst thing about endings is knowing that just ahead is the daunting task of starting over

There's a quickness in the way that things end. Sometimes when you're so completely happy, you can't help but wonder when things will change.

Whenever you made a choice, especially one you'd be resisting, it always affected everything else, some in big way, like a tremor beneath your feet, others in so tiny a shift you hardly noticed a change at all. But it was happening.

And unless you marry your high school sweetheart (and even sometimes then), there is usually a not-so-glorious back story. There are people and places and events that lead you to your final relationship, people and places and events you'd prefer to forget or at least gloss over. In the end, you can slap a pretty label on it-- like serendipity or fate. Or you can believe that it's just the random way life unfolds.

I want to dive headfirst into your arms, 
give into your good looks and charms. 
Sleep all day and love all night. 
Forgive every stupid, petty fight. 
I want to do more than sit and remember. 
I want to relive all the moments 
where you made me shiver.

There are millons of people in the world, and the spirits will see that most of them, you never have to meet. but there are one or two that you are tied to, and the spirits will cross you back and forth, threading so many knots until they catch and you finally get it right. 

At the end of the day, you either focus on 
what seperates you.. or what holds you together. 

I'm taking one of those quiet moments where I weigh your good qualities against your bad ones and decide if you're actually worth the trouble.

But sometimes, we just have to be happy with what people can offer us. Even if it's not what we want, at least it's something. You know?

It is strange how often a heart can be broken before the years can make it wise.

A letter is a lot like going through the back door when the press is right out front.  It's just easier than confrontation.  But, mostly it's steady.  It can be written in a corner where nobody will know the wiser, where you can't see my knees shake or my forced smile as I tell you that "friends" is a good place to be.  That is, afterall, what you do to me.  You make my knees weak, my heart pound, my mouth like cotton, and my hand unsteady.  That's the way it's supposed to be.  I know because when you touch my hand, I steady.  My knees hold, my heart slows, my mouth leaks compliments as if it were a waterfall, my hand holds firmly to yours, and you can be sure that I will never let you fall.  I am your fortress.

I was so cynical, just inconvincible, nobody seemed worth trusting. But sure enough, just when I'd near given up, you appeared there among the destruction. 

I suppose I think about love more than anyone really should. I am constantly amazed by its sheer power to alter and define our lives. 

It seems to me we can never give up longing and wishing while we are still alive. There are certain things we feel to be beautiful and good, and we must hunger for them.

There are also sorts of experiences that we can't really put a name to. The birth of a child, for one. Or the death of a parent. Falling in love. Words are like nets - we hope they'll cover what we mean, but we know they can't possibly hold that much joy, or grief, or wonder. Finding God is like that too. If it's happened to you, you know what it feels like. But try to describe it to someone else - and language only takes you so far. 

One of the things she had learned early in her life was that if you discovered something that made you tighten inside, you had better try to learn more about it. If you simply ignored the feeling, you would never know what might happen, and in many ways that was worse than finding out you were wrong in the first place. Because if you were wrong, you could go forward in your life without ever looking back over you shoulder and wondering what might have been.

Love takes off masks that we fear we cannot live without and know we cannot live within. 

She's the girl 
with her hands in her pockets 
biting her lip 
looking at her feet 
she's the girl 
you never knew loved you