A Quote by Nick Yarris
If you torture a man as I was tortured he will learn more about love than you could ever imagine, and that has left me vulnerable.
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Will you listen to me just this once?” he nearly yelled. “I . . . I like you, Maddy. I mean, more than just as a friend. Are you so stubborn you can’t see that? Maybe last night meant nothing to you, but it meant something to me.” His eyes were vulnerable, almost tortured. “Did you ever even consider that I might love you, you stubborn, impossible girl?
I told the people before they tortured me, please, don't torture me. I didn't do anything. They say, we have to torture you very much. Then when they tortured me, I told them everything they want to hear. I signed confession. That said, the ball was in their court. You know, I very much surrender to my lot.
If my husband cheated on me and embarrassed me like that, I will embarrass him more than he could ever imagine.
I love you, Gabby, more than you'll ever know. You're everything I've ever wanted in a wife. You're every hope and every dream I've ever had, and you've made me happier than any man could possibly be. I don't ever want to give that up. I can't.
I'd lay down my life for her - Mas'r Davy - Oh! most content and cheerful! She's more to me - gent'lmen - than - she's all to me that ever I can want, and more than ever I - than ever I could say. I - I love her true. There ain't a gent'lman in all the land - nor yet sailing upon all the sea - that can love his lady more than I love her.
I am tortured too. I am tortured by belly fat and magazine covers about how to please everyone but myself. I am tortured by sheep who click on anything that will guarantee a ten-pound loss in one week. Sheep who will get on their knees if it means someone will like them more. I am tortured by my inability to want to hang out with desperate sheep. I am tortured by goddamned yearbooks full of bullshit. I met you when. I'll miss the times. I'll keep in touch. Best friends forever. Is this okay? Are you all right? Are you tortured too?
I love you, Kaylee. More than I've ever loved anyone. More than I will ever love anyone. If I could freeze this moment in time and never have to let you go, I would do it without a second thought.
The more love we give away, the more we have left. The laws of love differ from the laws of arithmetic. Love hoarded dwindles, but love given grows. If we give all our love, we will have more left than they who save some. Giving love, not receiving, is important; but when we give with no thought of receiving, we automatically, and inescapably receive abundantly. Heaven is a by-product of love. When we say, "I love you," we mean that "a little of God's love flows from me to you." Thereby, we do not have less, but more. For in flowing, the quantity is magnified.
Cities produce love and yet feel none. A strange thing when you think about it, but perhaps fitting. Cities need that love more than most of us care to imagine. Cities, after all, for all their massiveness, all their there-ness, are acutely vulnerable.
On this special day of love, remember that your Father loves you more than you could ever imagine...no matter what you’ve done or haven’t done. No box of candy or flowers can compare to this kind of agape love!
God has done more than I could ask or even imagine on more occasions than I could ever recount. His ways are higher than my ways. My ideas simply cannot compete with his.
I thought perhaps that when you told me you did not love me that my own feelings would fall away and atrophy, but they have not. They have grown every day. I love you now more desperately, this moment, than I have ever loved you before, and in an hour I will love you more than that
Now I was more certain than ever of my decision. I could not love a man who did not love Jane Austen.
The healthy man does not torture others - generally it is the tortured who turn into torturers.
He didn't see me looking at him, but I could tell the ceremony was having the same effect on him. He was enraptured. It was a rare and sweet look for him, reminding me of the tortured artist that lived beneath the sarcasm. I liked that about Adrian—not the tortured part, but the way he could feel so deeply and then transform those emotions into art.
Sex is the killer. Sexual love makes you feel more vulnerable than any other kind of love. That's one reason that people are so thorny and so vulnerable and so easily wounded when in love.
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