Waiting - You were made perfectly to be loved - and surely I have loved you, in the idea of you, my whole life long.

To stay ahead, you must have your next idea waiting in the wings.
Waiting is a trap. There will always be reasons to wait. The truth is, there are only two things in life, reasons and results, and reasons simply don't count.

Waiting and hoping are the whole of life, and as soon as a dream is realized it is destroyed.
Whatever we are waiting for -- peace of mind, contentment, grace, the inner awareness of simple abundance -- it will surely come to us, but only when we are ready to receive it with an open and grateful heart.

It is strange. That the years teach us patience; that the shorter our time, the greater our capacity for waiting. People count up the faults of those who keep them waiting. Love is the answer, but while you're waiting for the answer, sex raises some pretty interesting questions.

Love does not consist in gazing at each other but in looking outward together in the same direction.

This said of love that it sometimes goes, sometimes flies; runs with one, walks gravely with another; turns a third into ice, and sets a fourth in a flame: it wounds one, another it kills: like lightning it begins and ends in the same moment: it makes that fort yield at night which it besieged but in the morning; for there is no force able to resist it.

Sympathy constitutes friendship; but in love there is a sort of antipathy, or opposing passion. Each strives to be the other, and both together make up one whole. Love is the extra effort we make in our dealings with those whom we do not like and once you understand that, you understand all. This idea that love overtakes you is nonsense. This is but a polite manifestation of sex. To love another you have to undertake some fragment of their destiny.

Pleasure of love lasts but a moment, Pain of love lasts a lifetime.

Love, with very young people, is a heartless business. We drink at that age from thirst, or to get drunk; it is only later in life that we occupy ourselves with the individuality of our wine.
Love won't be tampered with, love won't go away. Push it to one side and it creeps to the other.
Love must not touch the marrow of the soul. Our affections must be breakable chains that we can cast them off or tighten them.
Love makes the time pass. Time makes love pass.
Love is union with somebody, or something, outside oneself, under the condition of retaining the separateness and integrity of one's own self.

I begin to understand what love must be, if it exists. When we are parted, we each feel the lack of the other half of ourselves. We are incomplete like a book in two volumes of which the first has been lost. That is what I imagine love to be: incompleteness in absence.

Do you want me to tell you something really subversive? Love is everything it's cracked up to be. That's why people are so cynical about it. . . . It really is worth fighting for, being brave for, risking everything for. And the trouble is, if you don't risk anything, you risk even more

This was love at first sight, love everlasting: a feeling unknown, unhoped for, unexpected- in so far as it could be a matter of conscious awareness; it took entire possession of him, and he understood, with joyous amazement, that this was for life.

We don't love qualities, we love persons; sometimes by reason of their defects as well as of their qualities. We are not the same persons this year as last; nor are those we love. It is a happy chance if we, changing, continue to love a changed person. Romantic love is an illusion. Most of us discover this truth at the end of a love affair or else when the sweet emotions of love lead us into marriage and then turn down their flames.

We conceal it from ourselves in vain-- we must always love something. In those matters seemingly removed from love, the feeling is secretly to be found, and man cannot possibly live for a moment without it.

Love is a smoke made with the fume of sighs, Being purged, a fire sparkling in lovers' eyes, Being vexed, a sea nourished with lovers' tears. What is it else? A madness most discreet, A choking gall and a preserving sweet. Love is a spirit of all compact of fire

There is no remedy for love but to love more. Thiss better to have loved and lost Than never to have loved at all. The course of true love never did run smooth. Love sought is good, but given unsought, is better.

Fantasy love is much better than reality love. Never doing it is very exciting. The most exciting attractions are between two opposites that never meet.

When one is in love, one always begins by deceiving one's self, and one always ends by deceiving others. That is what the world calls a romance. In dreams and in love there are no impossibilities. We come to love not by finding a perfect person, but by learning to see an imperfect person perfectly. Love is something far more than desire for sexual intercourse; it is the principal means of escape from the loneliness which afflicts most men and women throughout the greater part of their lives. It is an extra dividend when you like the girl you've fallen in love with. If we all discovered that we only had five minutes left to say all that we wanted to say, every telephone booth would be occupied by people calling other people to tell them that they loved them.

To love and to be loved is to feel the sun from both sides. Those who ask for love in return are coolies demanding wages. Every person is lined with love! The only abnormality is the incapacity to love.