Relationships and Family

When one is in love, one always begins by deceiving one's self, and one always ends by deceiving others. That is what world calls a romance.

When one is in love, one always begins by deceiving one's self, and one always ends by deceiving others. That is what world calls a romance.

Love is more afraid of change than destruction.

I have decided to stick to love...Hate is too great a burden to bear.

Love does not begin and end the way we seem to think it does. Love is a battle, love is a war; love is a growing up.

You don't love someone for their looks, or their clothes, or for their fancy car, but because they sing a song only you can hear.

I love you, and because I love you, I would sooner have you hate me for telling you the truth than adore me for telling you lies.

Perhaps love is the process of my leading you gently back to yourself.

Any man who can drive safely while kissing a pretty girl is simply not giving the kiss the attention it deserves.

When a love comes to an end, weaklings cry, efficient ones instantly find another love, and the wise already have one in reserve.

The heart was made to be broken.

Two people in love, alone, isolated from the world, that's beautiful.

Never love anyone who treats you like you're ordinary.

Love is being stupid together.

The more I know of the world, the more I am convinced that I shall never see a man whom I can really love. I require so much!

So, I love you because the entire universe conspired to help me find you.

Gravitation cannot be held responsible for people falling in love.

We love the things we love for what they are.

in secret, between the shadow and the soul.

in secret, between the shadow and the soul.

A rose without thorns is like love without heartbreak; it doesn't make sense.

Love never dies a natural death. It dies because we don't know how to replenish its source. It dies of blindness and errors and betrayals. It dies of illness and wounds; it dies of weariness, of witherings, of tarnishings.

Love never dies a natural death. It dies because we don't know how to replenish its source. It dies of blindness and errors and betrayals. It dies of illness and wounds; it dies of weariness, of witherings, of tarnishings.

The real lover is the man who can thrill you by kissing your forehead or smiling into your eyes or just staring into space.