Lover Quotes

Instead of hating, my heart cries mercy! Mercy on me! Mercy on me! Mercy on me!

The coffee is not strong enough to keep me awake.

Where love germinates, peace is harvested!

True love makes you sleep and dream. But loud reality wakes you up

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.

DON'T SAY, DODo not say thingsYou think I want to hear.Instead,Say what you sincerely mean,And really intend to do.Do not think you are helping meBy occasionallyBeing here or there,If you really have no intentionOf holding my handAll the way through.Do not say you care for me,If you do not careWhenever I'm clearlyDown and blue.And do not want what's best For you,If you do not wish the bestFor me too.Do not calculate gifts or deedsOr your giving will never feelGenuinely true.Just say what you meanAnd mean what you say, And let's lay these down – As our love'sGolden rules.

If I could find someone who would love me to the extent I do, I would love her to the extent she could never love me.

If you never get your heart broken, you'll never learn to love.

I knew such a woman once,She gave me everything.Her love like a soft riot singing,She knew how to shine.

You would be amazed by how I can torture the English language. I am an abusive lover.

Our homes travel with us. They are wherever we feel loved and accepted.

as i sit here in a chaoticsilence of the roamingocean in mymind, the only think that puts me at ease is the memoryof you staring back atme. you coiled my fears by letting meinside of the gully of your eyes.

I came to pen another poem for you, but even every unwritten poem is you.

An angel for some,a demon for some,for me, it's heart of the one.Never want to hurt,keep many secrets beneath the blood.sob in the dark,but, people thinks, it's beat of the heart.No one thought, no one observe,but, it supplies tears as blood.One day someone came,took it out from dark,she kissed it,loved it,played with it,put it with her heart,and makes it her life part.Daily she played,daily she fought,But, never she threw it out.one day, an unknown came,who kissed her,loved her,and used to play with her.He took my out my heart from her,and threw it on the street,then there is nothing more than weep.An angel for some,a demon for some,for me, it's heart of the one.Never want to hurt,keep many secrets beneath the blood.Sob in the dark,but, people thinks, it's beat of the heart.No one thought, no one observe,but, it supplies tears as blood.

I highly doubt anyone would see anything,” he said, replying to my thoughts. “We’re on the 30th floor. Stop procrastinating; take off your fucking clothes.

Some kleptomaniacs do not steal things only; they also, while some only, steal lovers.

I have never wanted a lover. In order to have a lover, I must go back to the root of the word. For I have never wanted a lover, but I have always wanted to love, and to be loved.

This is a day of celebration!Today, we are divorcing the pastand marrying the present.Dance,and you will find Godin every room.Today, we are divorcing resentmentand marrying forgiveness.Sing,and God will find you in every tune.Today, we are divorcing indifferenceand marrying love.Drink, and play that tambourine against your thighs.We have so much celebrating to do!

The completion is always more difficult that the beginning

I haven’t written you a poem in years it seems.How can it be my faultwhen the words to describe you have not yet been created?When the alphabet lacks the very letters?How can it be my fault when your loveliness only growsby the time I reach for pen and paper?Tell me how I am at faultwhen I am only a beginner in poemsand you are exquisite poetry?To write you in words is to put a veil upon you.Why must I writewhen I can kiss you instead?

Love, they said, burns youand builds you.But with you, there’s no ash.Just light.

We'll meet again, but you're a lifetime away, and I need you now.

Pragmatism is good prevention for problems.

Wonderment shared is doubled.Love shared is infinite.

I will love you when you are a still day.I will love you when you are a hurricane.

Many a woman is in a relationship with or married to her man not because she loves him but only because she likes men like him.

I couldn’t have dreamed you into existence because I didn’t even know I needed you. You must have been sent to me.

Think the tree that bears nutrition:though the fruits are picked, the plant maintains fruition.So give all the love you have.Do not hold any in reserve.What is given is not lost; it shall return.

Don’t say to yourself, ‘Everyone argues!’ to justify and normalise your fighting, when the most natural thing is to love.

He gave me a message for you.” She tightened her lips as if the words soured her mouth.“What is it?”“That you are in his blood.”I looked down at the deck to hide the answering surge within my own blood.“Those are the words of a lover, Eona.

I had crossed fifty years of my life, and come across uncountable females as son, husband, father, friend in my life. Coming across several women I carefully studied most of them, and feels that I got master knowing female. But every time when my heart comes across to a female, my all knowledge on female goes to a vain. What they want? , What are they looking for? When their mind changes? When their priority changes? No one knows, in a minute they use to change decisions, if someone ask, they says it’s a little thing. They never think, little things makes big or if they can’t stick on little things how they can stand in important decisions. They never show they are weak, but every time they are compromising themselves. It’s their big heart but impacting every around. They always think they can do anything by doing nothing.

We call a story about love a love story. We call a poem about love a love poem. Well then, my dear, aren’t our lives love lives?

Distance unites missing beats of two hearts in love

I did put on the record player, the love symphony of Beethoven wafted in the air. You and I made love,last February on that amazing Sunday afternoon. And the neighbor's dog barked madly every time our bed creaked from all the gyrations that you and I could outmaneuver in our frenzy of wanting each other's body and soul!

Men are handicapped in love, either in giving or in receiving. They consider love as a sign of weakness

What is this lovethat makes me see beauty,and makes every beautiful thing bring you back to me?What is this lovethat makes me declare 'I love you'even though I uttered itonly a moment ago?What is this love that keeps growing even when my chest is soreand it hurts to love you any more?Tell me:How am I to find what this love iswhen it was the one to find you, me, this verse, and this universe?

And even though they had not had sex yet, he was a great lover, replacing sex with the science of bravery and inner strength. Meredith had always wanted a man with this kind of depth.

I Love You! Three words that mean nothing if not followed through with actions. It seems to be more relevant in the terms of showing verses saying. Anyone can say it, because there are different kinds of love. But, few are willing to actually show it. Saying is one thing. Living proof is another.

Let us go where skins are rainbowsEnhanced by every hue.Where genders are cloudsWeightless and formless through.Let us go where creeds are starsIlluminating our view.Where men and women are oneAnd the in-between are true.Let us go where I am free to loveFor I cannot unlove you.

Every lover is a soldier.

Before you, nothing.Now you, and everything

Come back to me.Where have you gone?And why so long?I miss the star below your lip,the constellation on your chest.I miss your ways,how you net butter-flying words and release themfor others to enjoy.I miss your tenderness,the sweetness of your breathand the song of your voice.I miss howyou worship me.Come back to me once more.Why did you go?And whatever for?The heavens plotted against us.The clouds came andpissed on our lives.The smell of charged particlesstill lingers in the air.What will become of you and I?Come back to us.

You can’t work with people you hate and succeed. At least, you won’t get the optimum of what you would have obtained when you work with people you love.

Love releases us into the realm of divine imagination, where the soul is expanded and reminded of its unearthly cravings and needs. We think that when a lover inflates his loved one he is failing to acknowledge her flaws - "Love is blind." But it may be the other way around. Love allows a person to see the true angelic nature of another person, the halo, the aureole of divinity. Certainly from the perspective of ordinary life this is madness and illusion. But if we let loose our hold on our philosophies and psychologies of enlightenment and reason, we might learn to appreciate the perspective of eternity that enters life as madness, Plato's divine frenzy.

We are all lost, so lost, vulnerable and insecure. We are separated from love at birth, we are separated from God, from each other. All we want, all we yearn for is to connect.

I had been much more in love with my wife than she with me, that was all. Somehow, you were supposed to be ashamed of this, as though love were a perpetual jostling for the roles of pursuer and pursued. As if it didn’t take more courage to admit that someone held your hopes of happiness in their hands. As if it were a choice.

The greatest thinkers have attempted to find who we are where we come from and why we are here but the greatest enigmas to me are how your hair is a lasso that captures the stars how your eyes are lakes that drown my doubts and how your skin is the sun bursting all at once. If I knew these answers I’d know everything for you alone contain the entire universe.

I was a talking lover, which most women hate.

What can I tell you about the alchemy of twins?Twins are two bodies that dance to each other’s joy.Two minds that drownin each other’s despair.Two spirits that flywith each other’s love.Twins are two separate beingsconjoined at the heart!

You let go of my hand to hold on to my heartDistance grasps us tightnow that we are apart

Her heart unfolded in her chest, took in all of him, and closed tightly, unwilling to let him go

Lovers are the best birds in the world when they know how to fly higher...

Your love opened up a whole world that no amount of books or wisdom could ever do.

Love is an admiration that comes with patience. Lust is an admiration that comes with impatience. In all, admiration is common but patience is not!

Let’s get you one, Anna.”“A lover?”Edith rolled her eyes. “No. A fucking houseplant. Yes, a lover.” Edith smirked. “It’ll cheer you up!

Being called ‘love’ or ‘my love’ by someone doesn’t necessarily mean that you are loved or even liked by them.

What is the point of a relationship if not to grant two people the very private privilege to uplift one another every day?

You are my reality, fantasy, daydream, fairytale, music, more than the princess in Cinderella; you are much more than a traditional myth.

Maybe we don’t ever feel that sweetly untainted and wholly majestic kind of love that takes every longing captive because we are hopelessly entangled in the illogical fear that despite all of love’s grand goodness, it might not be good enough to keep us safe.

Life sometimes reminds us that it is sometimes heartless by giving something or someone we really need to someone who does not need or even want them or it.