Sometimes it's a form of love just to talk to somebody that you have nothing in common with and still be fascinated by their presence.
Welcome to the wonderful world of jealousy, he thought. For the price of admission, you get a splitting headache, a nearly irresistable urge to commit murder, and an inferiority complex. Yippee.
If you remember me, then I don't care if everyone else forgets.
It isn't possible to love and part. You will wish that it was. You can transmute love, ignore it, muddle it, but you can never pull it out of you. I know by experience that the poets are right: love is eternal.
If you love somebody, let them go, for if they return, they were always yours. If they don't, they never were.
Life, he realize, was much like a song. In the beginning there is mystery, in the end there is confirmation, but it's in the middle where all the emotion resides to make the whole thing worthwhile.
Gravitation is not responsible for people falling in love.
It is a curious thought, but it is only when you see people looking ridiculous that you realize just how much you love them.
If you gave someone your heart and they died, did they take it with them? Did you spend the rest of forever with a hole inside you that couldn't be filled?
Hate the sin, love the sinner.