"lover"タグの名言

Is it possible for home to be a person and not a place?

I’ve been fighting to be who I am all my life. What’s the point of being who I am, if I can’t have the person who was worth all the fighting for?

Lovers and madmen have such seething brains, Such shaping fantasies, that apprehend More than cool reason ever comprehends. The lunatic, the lover and the poet Are of imagination all compact: One sees more devils than vast hell can hold, That is, the madman: the lover, all as frantic, Sees Helen's beauty in a brow of Egypt: The poet's eye, in fine frenzy rolling, Doth glance from heaven to earth, from earth to heaven; And as imagination bodies forth The forms of things unknown, the poet's pen Turns them to shapes and gives to airy nothing A local habitation and a name.

Making love to me is amazing. Wait, I meant: making love, to me, is amazing. The absence of two little commas nearly transformed me into a sex god.


Love is hard to find, hard to keep, and hard to forget.

Often you don't know whether a woman is friend, enemy or lover until it is too late. Sometimes, she is all three.

Too many adults wish to 'protect' teenagers when they should be stimulating them to read of life as it is lived.

You know how it goes: at some point in your life, you fell in love with someone and had a glimpse of God. Then you abandoned life and lover and started celebrating your love for God.

Over and over, the dying and the lepers would whisper the mystical word namaste in my ear. We really don’t have a word like it in English (or even much of a Western conception of it). They explained to me that namaste means “I honor the Holy One who lives in you.” I knew I could see God in their eyes. Was it possible that I was becoming a Christian, that in my eyes they could catch a glimpse of the image of my Lover?

God is an artist par excellence. He has painted the picturesque universe on the screen of His own immutable and glowing Spirit. So He is at once the painter and the painted. In the ultimate analysis, God and His lover, God and His devotee and servant, are He. The unmanifest--which is beyond all duality has become both. This secret few know.

Remember it... Lovers don't die rather they are killed

True love is not a hide and seek game: in true love, both lovers seek each other.

I am looking for the one I can’t fool.

Speak to me: I will spend my lifetime trying to understand you.

Love is supposed to lift you up, not hold you down. It is supposed to push you forward, not hold you back.

I open my eyes. I want to know: what is in the abyss of a kiss? Are stars born in these black caves that house bated breaths and unspoken words? Do our souls crawl on these tender cheeks to greet one another by ivory gates? What happens when we kiss? Where do you go? Don’t tell me. For I have lost my desire to know. Kiss me so that I forget myself. I close my eyes and fall in the abyss.

Just take my hand, lead, dance with me...and I will simply follow the blueness of the water, the white waves rolling free...where the earth beneath my feet and stars make my heart whole again...in long and priceless moments of shared solitude...

…..she needed him to know she did not care. She was spirited, tenacious, and full of contempt for him.

I am to take mademoiselle to the moon, and there I shall seek a cave in one of the white valleys among the volcano-tops, and mademoiselle shall live with me there, and only me.

Darling, if I take your breath away, I will give you mine.