I don't believe there exists a single human being who doesn't deserve to love and be loved, in return. We all desire to be loved, even for just a moment...
In the end, it remains the most marvellous feeling that one may feel. Love for who has elective affinities for you, for your family, for friends, for nature and for those who don't believe in your ideals.
They had just celebrated their golden wedding anniversary, and they were not capable of living for even an instant without the other, or without thinking about the other, and that capacity diminished as their age increased. Neither could have said if their mutual dependence was based on love or convenience, but they had never asked the question with their hands on their hearts because both had always preferred not to know the answer.
As a Nihilist, I swear to strangle whatever nature is in me; neither to love nor to be loved; neither to pity nor to be pitied; neither to marry nor to be given in marriage, till the end is come.
He who shall sow love shall reap happiness.
Love's death is life the death of a loved one. It leaves the same torment, the same emptiness, the same refusal to dive up to that emptiness. If you've been waiting for it, caused it, wanted it to defend yourself or for common sense of for the need of freedom when it comes along you feel invalid. Mutilated.
I belives in consuming and heart-breaking love... I believe in true and strong friendship... I believe in fights and fuck-yous screamed to the world. I believe in sun after the storm. I believe in breathtaking hugs and kisses that caress the flesh. I believe in sex, the violent one that makes you feel alive and I believe in people who make your soul vibrate. I do, I think so anyway!
I loved your smile, but I preferred mine.
There's nothing more sad than... to love and feeling alone.
The fascination that someone exerts on another
doesn't show their personality
in the precise moment of their meeting
... but...
in the summary of their entire being,
that lets go this powerful drug that
captures imagination and creates the bond.
Love... to love... what's love, even if not a perfect culmination of ourselves?