A Quote by Marcel Proust
We can sometimes find a person again, but we cannot abolish time. And so on until the unforeseen day, gloomy as a winter night, when one no longer seeks that girl, or any other, when to find her would actually scare one. For one no longer feels that one has attractions enough to please, or strength enough to love. Not, of course, that one is in the strict sense of the word impotent. And as for loving, one would love more than ever. But one feels that it is too big an undertaking for the little strength one has left.
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I couldn't love anyone more than I do you, it would kill me. And I couldn't love anyone less because it would always feel like less. Even if I loved some other girl, that's all I would ever think about, the difference between loving her and loving you.
At that moment he knew what his mother was thinking, and that she loved him. But he knew, too, that to love someone means relatively little; or, rather, that love is never strong enough to find the words befitting it. Thus he and his mother would always love each other silently. And one day she--or he--would die, without ever, all their lives long, having gone farther than this by way of making their affection known.
Please don’t think so lightly of liking someone. It’s terribly important. It is a kind of loving, you know, and one that frequently lasts a lot longer than romance. You can fall out of love, as well in. Most of us do, especially if you don’t actually like the person as well. It doesn’t always grow into love by any means, but sometimes it does.
Find time for thought, this is the source of strength.
Find time for the game, this is the secret of eternal youth.
Find time for reading, this is the Foundation of knowledge.
Find time to be friendly, this is the road to happiness.
Find time for dreams, they will pull your vehicle as the stars.
Find time to love and be loved in return, this is the privilege of the gods.
Find time to look around you, it's too short a day to be selfish.
Find time to laugh this is the music of the soul.
The lesson learned: Never take your loved ones for granted. And if you’re ever lucky enough to find that one person in life who makes you love more than any other person could possibly make you love, you treat every day together as if it were your last. You cherish every moment.
I've had so many experiences in cycling, but in some ways I have nothing left to prove. I have achieved more than I could have dreamed of, I've raced a lot longer than I thought I would. I know I can still be better, but I just don't know if I love it enough any more.
You wouldn't die in here, nothing ever dies in here, but if you stayed here for too long, after a while just a little of you would exist everywhere, all spread out. And that's not a good thing. Never enough of you all together in one place, so t here wouldn't be anything left that would think of itself as an 'I.' No point of view any longer, because you'd be an infinite sequence of views and of points.
Love is without a doubt the laziest theory for the meaning of life, but when it actually comes a time to do it we find just enough energy to over-complicate life again. Any devil can love, whom he himself sees as, a good person who has treated him well, but to love also the polar opposite is what separates love from fickle emotions.
Malander had an idea and was trying to work it out, but it would take him time. Sometimes people never saw things clearly until it was too late and they no longer had the strength to start again. Or else they forgot their idea along the way and didn't even realise that they forgotten.
Brown Penny I WHISPERED, 'I am too young,' And then, 'I am old enough'; Wherefore I threw a penny To find out if I might love. 'Go and love, go and love, young man, If the lady be young and fair.' Ah, penny, brown penny, brown penny, I am looped in the loops of her hair. O love is the crooked thing, There is nobody wise enough To find out all that is in it, For he would be thinking of love Till the stars had run away And the shadows eaten the moon. Ah, penny, brown penny, brown penny, One cannot begin it too soon.
Ive had so many experiences in cycling, but in some ways I have nothing left to prove. I have achieved more than I could have dreamed of, Ive raced a lot longer than I thought I would. I know I can still be better, but I just dont know if I love it enough any more.
We stare into each other's eyes and softly kiss speaking and saying more with the movement of our lips and the tips of our fingers than words will allow us to say. Words can't say this. The one word love means too little for what it is. It means everything and that is still not enough. It doesn't communicate even a fraction of the feelings involved. Love. The word is not enough for what it is. Love. Love.
When God wants to move a mountain, he does not take a bar of iron, but he takes a little worm. The fact is, we have too much strength. We are not weak enough. It is not our strength that we want. One drop of God's strength is worth more than all the world.
I just like to express myself in the world around me. And I love writing, but sometimes it feels a little too minute. Sometimes, at the end of the day, there's just not enough colors involved - visually, there are just words on a page.
Strangely enough, I find myself more centered in chaos than in calm, and again I'm not sure whether that's a strength or says something weird about me, but I love a crisis. I'm normally very, very organized in the middle of chaos, and then when I have nothing to focus on, extremely disorganized, and I tend to waste a lot of time.
If I immerse myself in the scriptures...I find myself loving more intensely those whom I must love with all my heart and mind and strength, and loving them more. I find it easier to abide their counsel.
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