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We all have the potential to fall in love a thousand times in our lifetime. It’s easy. The first girl I ever loved was someone I knew in sixth grade. Her name was Missy; we talked about horses. The last girl I love will be someone I haven’t even met yet, probably. They all count. But there are certain people you love who do something else; they define how you classify what love is supposed to feel like. These are the most important people in your life, and you’ll meet maybe four or five of these people over the span of 80 years. But there’s still one more tier to all this; there is always one person you love who becomes that definition. It usually happens retrospectively, but it happens eventually. This is the person who unknowingly sets the template for what you will always love about other people, even if some of these loveable qualities are self-destructive and unreasonable. The person who defines your understanding of love is not inherently different than anyone else, and they’re often just the person you happen to meet the first time you really, really, want to love someone. But that person still wins. They win, and you lose. Because for the rest of your life, they will control how you feel about everyone else.
Killing Yourself to Live: 85% of a True Story by Chuck Klosterman (via youmightfindyourself)
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Do they still call it infatuation? That magic axe that chops away the world in one blow leaving only the couple standing there, trembling? Whatever they call it, it leaps over anything, takes the biggest chair, the largest slice, rules the ground wherever it walks from a mansion to a swamp and its selfishness is its beauty… People with no imagination fed it with sex - the clown of love. They don’t know the real kinds, the better kinds, where losses are cut and everybody benefits. Its takes a certain intelligence to love like that - softly, without props.
Toni Morrison (via risen-from-the-ashes)
(via silent3)
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Never pretend to a love which you do not actually feel, for love is not ours to command.
Alan Watts (via lastdaysofmagic)
(via phoenixbrightheart)
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More Bukowski…
I want to
let her know
though
that all the nights
sleeping
beside her
even the useless
arguments
were things
ever splendid
and the hard
words
I ever feared to
say
can now be
said:
I love
you.Charles Bukowski
(via thesensualstarfish)
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Ay, Love is a journey through waters and stars,
through suffocating air, sharp tempests of grain:
Love is a war of lightning,Pablo Neruda (via bollywoodgaga) -
For small creatures such as we the vastness is bearable only through love.
Carl Sagan
(via thesensualstarfish)
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Anyone who is in love is making love the whole time, even when they’re not. When two bodies meet, it is just the cup overflowing. They can stay together for hours, even days. They begin the dance one day and finish it the next, or—such is the pleasure they experience—they may never finish it. No eleven minutes for them.
Paulo Coelho (via whatshewanted)
(via thesensualstarfish)
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(via fuckyeahfirefly)
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There is no surprise more magical than the surprise of being loved.
Charles Morgan (via mohandasgandhi)
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(via mattsbrickgallery)
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Do not think that love in order to be genuine has to be extraordinary. What we need is to love without getting tired. Be faithful in small things because it is in them that your strength lies.
Mother Teresa (via kari-shma)
(via thesensualstarfish)
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Love makes your soul crawl out from its hiding place.
Zora Neale Hurston (via nikiwithissues)
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Broad and Yellow is the Evening Light by Anna Akhmatova
Broad and Yellow is the Evening Light by Anna Akhmatova
Broad and yellow is the evening light
Tender the April coolness
You are so many years late,
Nevertheless I am glad you came.
Sit here close to me
And look on joyfully:
Here is a blue composition book
With the poems of my childhood.
Forgive me that I ignored the sun
And that I lived in sorrow
Forgive, forgive that I
Mistook too many others for you.Anna Akhmatova (1889 – 1966)
- Love is a temporary madness, it erupts like volcanoes and then subsides. And when it subsides, you have to make a decision. You have to work out whether your roots have so entwined together that it is inconceivable that you should ever part. Because this is what love is. Love is not breathlessness, it is not excitement, it is not the promulgation of promises of eternal passion, it is not the desire to mate every second minute of the day, it is not lying awake at night imagining that he is kissing every cranny of your body. No, don’t blush, I am telling you some truths. That is just being “in love”, which any fool can do. Love itself is what is left over when being in love has burned away, and this is both an art and a fortunate accident.
