A Quote by Franz Grillparzer

A love that dies has never lived. — © Franz Grillparzer
A love that dies has never lived.
Love never dies a natural death. It dies because we don't know how to replenish its source. It dies of blindness and errors and betrayals. It dies of illness and wounds; it dies of weariness, of witherings, of tarnishings.
Love never dies a natural death. It dies because we don't know how to replenish its source. It dies of blindness and errors and betrayals. It dies of illness and wounds; it dies of weariness, of witherings, of tarnishings. Anaïs Nin I like not only to be loved, but also to be told I am loved. George Eliot Love is the voice under all silences, the hope which has no opposite in fear; the strength so strong mere force is feebleness: the truth more first than sun, more last than star.
Love never dies a natural death. It dies because we don't know how to replenish its source.
If you never take risks, you'll never accomplish great things. Everybody dies, but not everyone has lived.
That old man dies prematurely whose memory records no benefits conferred. They only have lived long who have lived virtuously.
Man never dies, nor is he ever born; bodies die, but he never dies.
You'll be old and you never lived, and you kind of feel silly to lie down and die and to never have lived, to have been a job chaser and never have lived.
I'm a big fan of the Harry Potter books, but I'd love to do one where one of the kids dies, or one of the main characters dies. I love for those things to have a little bit more tragedy.
What is it that dies? A log of wood dies to become a few planks. The planks die to become a chair. The chair dies to become a piece of firewood, and the firewood dies to become ash. You give different names to the different shapes the wood takes, but the basic substance is there always. If we could always remember this, we would never worry about the loss of anything. We never lose anything; we never gain anything. By such discrimination we put an end to unhappiness. (118-119)
And that's just it, isn't it? That's how we manage to survive the loss. Because love, it never dies, it never goes away, it never fades, so long as you hang on to it.
I love being a performer. It's like a hole that never closes. It's something in you that never dies.
Wail not too wildly for expiring Love: The Love that dies was never quite alive.
A dead love never dies.
Our greatest fear is that we will lose the love in our life... that we will be abandoned, left alone, bereaved, misunderstood, deprived, hated and rejected....but we can never be OUT OF LOVE. We are love and if our minds separate ourselves from who we really are it is a painful delusion. Ego personalities, including our own, might separate ourselves from love but love never dies because it is what we are made of.
The dreamer dies, but never dies the dream
Love never dies of starvation, but often of indigestion.
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