Quotes
Quotes about Love
I love to think of nature as an unlimited broadcasting station, through which God speaks to us every hour, if we only will tune in.
I love little children too but I don't cut off their heads and stick them in vases. http://www.egroups.com/messages/nomow108/1.
I look upon all creatures equally; none are less dear to me and none more dear. But those who worship me with love live in me, and I come to life in them.
To be interested in the changing seasons is a happier state of mind than to be hopelessly in love with spring.
All finite things reveal infinitude: The mountain withi its singular bright shade Like the blue shine on freshly frozen snow, The after-light upon ice-burdened pines; Odor of basswood upon a mountain slope, A scene beloved of bees; Silence of water above a sunken tree: The pure serene of memory of one man,-- A ripple widening from a single stone Winding around the waters of the world.
I love to think of nature as an unlimited broadcasting station, through which God speaks to us every hour, if we will only tune in.
Some love to roam o'er the dark sea's foam, Where the shrill winds whistle free.
A supreme love, a motive that gives a sublime rhythm to a woman's life, and exalts habit into partnership with the soul's highest needs, is not to be had where and how she wills.
All you need in the world is love and laughter. That's all anybody needs. To have love in one hand and laughter in the other.
Love blinds us to faults, but hatred blinds us to virtues.
The days are too short even for love; how can there be enough time for quarreling?.
There is none more lonely than the man who loves only himself.
On stage I make love to twenty five thousand people; and then I go home alone.
In confession... we open our lives to healing, reconciling, restoring, uplifting grace of him who loves us in spite of what we are.
Just don't give up trying to do what you really want to do. Where there is love and inspiration, I don't think you can go wrong.
When I despair, I remember that all through history the way of truth and love has always won. There have been tyrants and murderers and for a time they seem invincible but in the end, they always fallâthink of it, ALWAYS.
Hatred can be overcome only by love.
Love thy neighbor as thyself, but choose your neighborhood.
Far below and around lay the city like a ragged purple dream. The irregular houses were like the broken exteriors of cliffs lining deep gulches and winding streams. Some were mountainous; some lay in long, monotonous rows like, the basalt precipices hanging over desert canons. Such was the background of the wonderful, cruel, enchanting, bewildering, fatal, great city. But into this background were cut myriads of brilliant parallelograms and circles and squares through which glowed many colored lights. And out of the violet and purple depths ascended like the city's soul, sound and odors and thrills that make up the civic body. There arose the breath of gaiety unrestrained, of love, of hate, of all the passions that man can know. There below him lay all things, good or bad, that can be brought from the four corners of the earth to instruct, please, thrill, enrich, elevate, cast down, nurture or kill. Thus the flavor of it came up to him and went into his blood.
I love night more than day--she is so lovely; But I love night the most because she brings My love to me in dreams which scarcely lie.
The night has a thousand eyes, And the day but one; Yet the light of the bright world dies With the dying sun. The mind has a thousand eyes, And the heart but one: Yet the light of a whole life dies When love is done.
The stars are forth, the moon above the tops Of the snow-shining mountains--Beautiful! I linger yet with Nature, for the night Hath been to me a more familiar face Than that of man; and in her starry shade Of dim and solitary loveliness I learn'd the language of another world.
It is the hour when from the boughs The nightingale's high note is heard; It is the hour when lovers' vows Seem sweet in every whispered word; And gentle winds, and waters near, Make music to the lonely ear. Each flower the dews have lightly wet, And in the sky the stars are met, And on the wave is deeper blue, And on the leaf a browner hue, And in the heaven that clear obscure, So softly dark, and darkly pure. Which follows the decline of day, As twilight melts beneath the moon away.
'Tis the merry nightingale That crowds, and hurries, and precipitates With fast thick warble his delicious notes, As he were fearful that an April night Would be too short for him to utter forth His love-chant, and disburthen his full soul Of all its music!
O nightingale, that on yon bloomy spray Warblest at eve, when all the woods are still; Thou with fresh hope the lover's heart dost fill While the jolly hours lead on propitious May.
