Dinah Maria Mulock Quotes

Most songs are somewhere between love and death, and mine are no exception.

At the end of true love is death, and only the love that ends in death is love.

All love affairs are tragedies in the end unless the lovers die at the same moment.

We fall in love forever many times, and many times we die.

I think that one of the reasons why people look towards the end of humanity is that people are afraid to die alone. If you die alone, the people you love will miss you, or if they die, you miss them - the sorrow is inevitable. When you truly love someone, the thought of losing them forever is horrible.

True love makes the thought of death frequent, easy, without terrors; it merely becomes the standard of comparison, the price one would pay for many things.

If you live to be 1000 years old, I hope I live to be 1000 minus 1 day, so I never have to live without you.

The most dire disaster in love is the death of imagination.

Death cannot stop true love. All it can do is delay it for a while.

Death, vicious death, Leave a green branch for love.

Then she was pressing her little proud broken self against his face, as close as she could get, and then they died.

The truth is simple, you do not die from love. You only wish you did.

Cato kneels beside Clove, spear in hand, begging her to stay with him. In a moment, he will realize it's futile, she can't be saved.

That's the one thing you wake up with every day: How long have I got left? And that's the saddest thing in the world, because you have this absolute realization that everything you love you're going to have to let go of and give up. I look at my daughter and I think, There's going to be a point where I'm not going to be around for her. Even the thought of that breaks my heart.

Lucas," I repeated. "I know you can hear me. The guy I love is still in there. Come back to me." Once again longed for the release of tears. "Death couldn't keep me from you. And it can't keep you from me, not if you don't let it.

All our songs are about love, travel and death.

I watched her die many times. In my way, not in hers. In sunlight, in shadow, by moonlight, by candlelight. In the long afternoons when the house was empty. Only the sun was there to keep us company. We shut him out. And why not? Very soon she was as eager for what's called loving as I was - more lost and drowned afterwards.

Love! Beyond measure — beyond death — it nearly kills. But one wouldn't have been without it.

Do you believe in love after last sight?

We think of women at every age: while still children, we fondle with a naïve sensuality the breasts of those grown-up girls kissing us and cuddling us in their arms; at the age of ten, we dream of love; at fifteen, love comes along; at sixty, it is still with us, and if dead men in their tombs have any thought in their heads, it is how to make their way underground to the nearby grave, lift the shroud of the dear departed women, and mingle with her in her sleep

Because death is the only thing that could have ever kept him from you.

I have lived with you and loved you, and now you are gone. Gone where I cannot follow, until I have finished all of my days.

You are never truly together with one you love until the person in question is dead and actually inside you.

I want to die on your chest but not yet she wrote sometime in the 13th century of our love