A Quote by Fyodor Dostoevsky

But to fall in love does not mean to love. One can fall in love and still hate. — © Fyodor Dostoevsky
But to fall in love does not mean to love. One can fall in love and still hate.
I fall in love too easily, I fall in love too fast I fall in love too terribly hard, for love to ever last My heart should be well schooled, 'cause I've been fooled in the past And still I fall in love too easily, I fall in love too fast
You don't fall in love because you fall in love; you fall in love because of the need, desperate, to fall in love. when you feel that need, you have to watch your step: like having drunk a philter, the kind that makes you fall in love with the first thing you meet. It could be a duck-billed platypus.
A mature person does not fall in love, he or she rises in love. Only immature people fall; they stumble and fall down in love. Somehow they were managing and standing. Now they cannot manage and they cannot stand. They were always ready to fall on the ground and to creep. They don't have the backbone, the spine; they don't have the integrity to stand alone.
I meditated on love and reasoned it out. I realized what is wrong with us. Men fall in love for the first time. And what do they fall in love with? ...They fall in love with a woman. They start at the wrong end of love. They begin at the climax. Can you wonder it is so miserable? Do you know how men should love? A tree. A rock. A cloud.
Races don't fall in love, genders don't fall in love: Individuals fall in love. We all should be free to marry the person that we love.
Being an actor, when you sign onto a project - whether it's good, bad, or indifferent - you kind of fall in love with it. You fall in love with the experience, you fall in love with the memories.
So how do you fall in love with life? The same way you fall in love with another person -- you adore everything about them! You fall in love with another person by seeing only love, hearing only love, speaking only love, and by feeling love with all your heart! And that is exactly how you use the ultimate power of love in love with life.
Romantic love is mental illness. But it's a pleasurable one. It's a drug. It distorts reality, and that's the point of it. It would be impossible to fall in love with someone that you really saw. The second you meet someone that you're going to fall in love with you deliberately become a moron. You do this in order to fall in love, because it would be impossible to fall in love with any human being if you actually saw them for what they are.
I fall in love with every film while I'm doing it. I fall in love with the directors, I fall in love with the process. I don't think I could do it otherwise.
You don’t choose who you fall in love with, do you? And once you do fall in love—that obsessive sort of love, that all-consuming love, where two people can’t stand to be apart from each other for even a moment—how are you supposed to let a love like that pass you by?
I love books where you can fall in love with the character. And when I say fall in love, I don't mean to be so enraptured by them but to know them really deeply.
Just because you fall in love with someone doesn't mean that your families are going to fall in love with each other.
We consciously decide whether to consider people; we fall in love despite ourselves; we entirely fail to fall in love with people who fall in love with us. It is a mightily complicated business.
Sometimes you fall in love with a song 'cause it's new, it's exciting and you just birthed it. Then you fall out of love sometimes. But the strongest songs always survive and you come back and you fall in love all over again.
Whenever there is love the woman blossoms. Without love, the woman shrinks. The men who love power never fall in love. Even if they fall in love they keep themselves at a distance.
Joan was nothing more than a friend. He was not in love with her. One does not fall in love with a girl whom one has met only three times. One is attracted, yes; but one does not fall in love. A moment's reflection enabled him to diagnose his sensations correctly. This odd impulse to leap across the compartment and kiss Joan was not love. It was merely the natural desire of a good-hearted young man to be decently chummy with his species.
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