depth of love Quotes

The more a man loves, the more he suffers. The sum of possible grief for each soul is in proportion to its degree of perfection.

Love is the burning point of life, and since all life is sorrowful, so is love. The stronger the love, the more the pain. Love itself is pain, you might say -the pain of being truly alive.

He's a very nice man and all that, easy to get along with, fun, he never makes me cry. But is that love? I mean, is that all there is to it? Even when you learned to ride your two-wheeler, you had to fall off a few times and scrape both knees. Call it a rite of passage. And that was just a little thing.

We don't know how much we are capable of loving until the people we love are being taken away, until a beautiful story is ending.

...the whole universe is through and through the playing of love in every shade of the word's use, from animal lust to divine charity.

Love is the river of life in this world. Think not that ye know it who stand at the little tinkling rill, the first small fountain. Not until you have gone through the rocky gorges, and not lost the stream; not until you nave gone through the meadow, and the stream has widened and deepened until fleets could ride on its bosom; not until beyond the meadow you have come to the unfathomable ocean, and poured your treasures into its depths--not until then can you know what love is.

Romance is the deepest thing in life. It is deeper than reality.

From love one can only escape at the price of life itself; and no lessening of sorrow is worth exile from that stream of all things human and divine.

I know you love me. The question is, how much?

Only a man who has loved a woman of genius can appreciate what happiness there is in loving a fool.

I don't remember who said this, but there really are places in the heart you don't even know exist until you love a child.

A boyfriend or a girlfriend may be fun, but cannot become a door to the deepest that is hidden in each and everyone. With a girlfriend you can be sexually related, but love cannot grow. Love needs deep roots. Sexuality is possible on the surface, but sexuality is just animal, biological. It can be beautiful if it is part of a deeper love, but if it is not part of a deeper love it is the most ugly thing possible; the ugliest, because then there is no communion - you simply touch each other and separate. Only bodies meet, but not you - not I, not thou. This has happened in all relationships.

But, visiting Sea, your love doth press / And reach in further than you know, / And fills all these; and, when you go, / There's loneliness in loneliness.

My idea is this, that when you only love a little you're naturally not jealous — or are only jealous also a little, so that it doesn't matter. But when you love in a deeper and intenser way, then you're in the very same proportion jealous; your jealousy has intensity and, no doubt, ferocity.

No one knows very much about the life of another. This ignorance becomes vivid, if you love another. Love sets the imagination on fire, and, also, eventually, chars the imagination into a harder element: imagination cannot match love, cannot plunge so deep, or range so wide.

Love is scary, like anything else, whether you're falling in love, whether you're discovering love in something else...if you're really going to jump off the cliff, when you meet somebody that you love you're going to jump off that cliff, you've got to give them everything. And when you have a kid, it's on a much greater level.

Love, we are a small pond.

Any man who talks about his love affairs thereby proves he is ignorant of love and is moved only by vanity.

He who would love much has also much to suffer.

It took two," I said. "Two different people to make the Heartwood what it is. Two different experiences, grief and joy, combined. True love never has just one face, does it? It must always have two, or it isn't true love at all.

Whatever you love is beautiful; love comes first, beauty follows. The greater your capacity for love, the more beauty you find in the world.

Any love involves loss, and that's the risk you take. And the greater the love, the greater the loss. I certainly feel that now with the woman I'm with, and the children that I have. But whatever the course may be, this time together is extraordinary.

Didn’t understand love? Was she crazy? If she only knew what I’d sacrificed for Dimitri, what I’d done to be where I was now . . . all for love. She was the one who couldn’t understand. Love wasn’t a fling in a back room at a party. It was something you lived and died for.

If he loved with all the powers of his puny being, he couldn't love as much in eighty years as I could in a day.