…sé que voy a quererte sin preguntas, sé que vas a quererme sin respuestas
“
| — | Mario Benedetti (via cheriflor, sortilegiosmarinos) (via quelowat) |
And then my soul saw you and it kind of went “Oh, there you are. I’ve been looking for you.
“
| — | Unknown | Submitted by: bornonthe17th (via quote-book) |
Relationships of all kinds are like sand held in your hand. Held loosely, with an open hand, the sand remains where it is. The minute you close your hand and squeeze tightly to hold on, the sand trickles through your fingers.
“
| — | (via adeana) |
The real lover is the man who can thrill you by kissing your forehead.
“
| — | Marilyn Monroe (via bornonthe17th) (via quote-book) |
I’ll empty my heart,
I’ll pour it into your heart.
I belong to you.
I’ll pour it into your heart.
I belong to you.
“
| — | Daily Haiku on Love by Tyler Knott Gregson (via tylerknott) |
The meeting of two personalities is like the contact of two chemical substances: if there is any reaction, both are transformed.
“
| — | Carl Jung (via kari-shma) (via quote-book, kari-shma) |
See once in a while, once in a blue moon, people will surprise you & once in a while people may even take your breath away .
“
| — | (via mikey-v) |
Never love anybody who treats you like you’re ordinary.
“
| — | Oscar Wilde (via delicatelybruised & mylitocupcake) (via align) (via lovebot) (via wastedtomorrow) |
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.
“
| — | Louis de Bernières (via quote-book) |
