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Love Hurts Quotes

Browse 589 quotes about Love Hurts.

Love Hurts Quotes

“Weißt du, die Leute lügen, wenn sie sagen, nichts sei so stark wie die Liebe. Das ist eine der größten und gemeinsten Lügen überhaupt. Liebe ist nicht stark. Sie ist so verletzlich wie nur irgendwas. Und wenn wir nicht achtgeben, dann zerbricht sie wie Glas." "Aber du liebst ihn noch immer. Sogar heute noch." "Und, hilft mir das weiter? Macht mich das stärker?" Sie schüttelte den Kopf. "Es tut nur weh, das ist alles. Es tut furchtbar weh, jeden Tag und jede Nacht. Es ist auch nicht wahr, dass die Zeit alle Wunden heilt. Sie macht es schlimmer. Die Zeit macht es immer nur noch schlimmer.”

“every time I long for you, I promise myself it's the last, I wish I could love myself the way I love you unconditionally. overlooking ever negative, repeating small gestures over and over in my head to get high from that nervous feeling how do I manage to remember every little instance between us when I can't even remember to eat how did you become so important that I'm willing to give up my dreams to support you in following yours. I'm turning into a fool hanging onto the last thread of hope believing it to be love.”

“The men in my life have always been the folks who are wary of using the word 'love' lightly. They are wary because they believe women make too much of love. And they know that what we think love means is not always what they believe it means. Our confusion about what we mean when we use the word 'love' is the source of our difficulty in loving. If our society had a commonly held understanding of the meaning of love, the act of loving would not be so mystifying.”

“I rested my chin on my paws, wondering if she’d ever be able to open her heart to another man-human. I knew firsthand how hard it was to try again, to let yourself be loved by someone who could love you back after you’d been hurt. And I knew sometimes when someone said mean things if you were sensitive you couldn’t shake it no matter how much you knew it wasn’t the truth.”

“The French poet Mallarmé claimed that “everything in the world exists to end up in a book.” So if every boy is a book, Federico, well-mannered and melancholy, was some kind of modern Edward Scissorhands created by a graphic novelist; while Matteo was pure passion like Romeo: intense, idealistic and imperfectly real.”

“She had feared the worst, and even though at that very moment she would have liked to wring her neck, she was happy to learn that suicide was not one of the stupid things that Eve had in her repertoire. Suicide made no sense: situations change, people change, and the problems of today may find a solution tomorrow. So long as you’re in the game you can change the final score, but if you take yourself out of it, you’ll never know how it might have ended, and you let the world win.”

“No, don’t do that! Marika, don’t play that game with me.” An unfamiliar chill took over his body, burning him from the inside out. “Otherwise we’re just going to hurt each other.” His clear eyes glowed like incandescent ice. “Don’t ask me to give it all up unless that’s really what you want, because I could do it for you.” He knew that he could leave it all behind if that’s what she asked of him. “Look at me!” He was offering her more than she had the right to expect. “Forget San Carlo for just one second and tell me what you feel.” She couldn’t look him in the eyes and say goodbye.”