Quotessence
Home / Topics / Relationships Quotes

Relationships Quotes

Browse 8210 quotes about Relationships.

Relationships Quotes

“I wish I hadn't met you in the rain: it comes every winter. I wish you hadn't told me your favorite wine: I've become a drinker. I wish I never showed you my hidden birthmark: It looks back at me at night asking where you are. I wish I hadn't read you my journal, all the pages praising you, It's corrupted now that I can't tell if I write for me or you. I wish I hadn't told you my daily routine: it's not mine anymore. I can't enjoy 11:11, my favorite song, a birthday cake, or a concert tour. I'm not afraid of the future, it's the past that takes a while.”

“[On what young husbands should say to their wives:] I have taken you in my arms, and I love you, and I prefer you to my life itself. For the present life is nothing, and my most ardent dream is to spend it with you in such a way that we may be assured of not being separated in the life reserved for us... I place your love above all things, and nothing would be more bitter or painful to me than to be of a different mind than you.”

“I close my eyes and take a deep breath. Breathing in the pain, the heartbreak, my stubborn, willful insistence on closing him out because he hurt me. Then I breathe out with forgiveness, love, and acceptance that you can only be hurt so deeply by those you love. And that the real lesson here isn’t to never date a doctor; it’s to let love in, no matter how much it scares you that you could be hurt. Because it’s worth it.”

“There was magic. Some kind of alchemy. I don't remember the moment you transformed from a prop into a main character. No, that's not what happened. I don't remember when you shape- shifted from an elf into a Prince. No, that isn't it either. What I really mean is: I don't know if we were meant to fall into each other all along or if you were just in the right place at the right time. Yes, I found safety in your arms in the middle of a hurricane I chose to escape, and I still don't know how it would have turned out if someone else came to my door that day. Or if you never held me. Or if I never cried. Or if everything hadn't been so fairy tale. Until it wasn't. Do you see the magic now, now that it's too late? Do you still remember me? Do I still remember you? And what, in the end, have we learned? Is it really better to have loved and lost? Was it love for you? Who now is dying faster from the lonely?”

“Maybe there are some people you can’t unlove no matter how hard you try. Maybe there are some people you stay connected to, because they’ve hurt you to your very core. You keep hoping that somehow the pain can be resolved if they finally do the right thing, but the right thing can never be done because it had to have been done in the past.”

“I hurt myself by hurting you.” His face wore a look of compassion. I hated that look, because it reminded me that he was a good person, that he had tried over and over to apologize. He unwittingly brought out the part of me that I hated, and I projected that hate onto him, because it was easier to hate someone else than to hate myself. Tears poured out of my eyes. And he wrapped his arms around me, holding me as wept. And I hated that his arms still felt good.”

“The week wasn’t even over and on top of Sam and Emma getting dumped slash divorced, Zoey remembered Ben the janitor freshly divorcing his spouse and Christopher Grave breaking it off for the billionth time with none other than Anthony Bush, her first adult crush. Those two were probably going to go on and off like the Grand Slam anyway. The world was soon coming to a broken-hearted zombie apocalypse with the not-so-better halves roaming the Earth in search of the one meant to put an end to the misery, sales of self-help books going high, therapists’ agendas fully booked, and chick flicks gone out of the shelves of video rental stores—if there were any left post Netflix.”

“So many people bump into our lives for a second and it changes us forever, but they never know it. And while that's funny and strange and a little sad, it's also just life. And the truth of the matter is, it was never really about them anyway. It was always about us and what we were meant to learn from them. It was always about us and who we were meant to BECOME as a result of having encountered them.”

“I remembered only the good and loveable things about him, not the wretchedness he caused me, and the dope, and the resentments and silence and the half-crazy outbursts. I remembered his smell and the colour of his eyes and his head thrown back to laugh; these things were a second away, in time, but the others I dredged up dutifully, knowing that I must, for the sake of truth and sanity, try to keep a balance.”

“I thought I had lowered my standards pretty much, when I decided that any woman would be good for me as long as she respects me. It didn't took me long to realize that would never happen. I was being naive about the real state of the world. It's not that one shouldn't have low standards, or high, or medium, but that most people are such a disgusting representation of themselves, that they can't stop themselves being like this until they die. And maybe they do appreciate what they had when they lose it, but they quickly forget about it when getting it back. Forgiving people that apologize too often has been another naive behavior of mine.”

“He walked out the door and with each step my heart breaks. He'd be gone for days with long silences between each breath. I know I'm his one of many and he knows he's my one of one. The only one who holds him down. Yet, he still leaves. He walks through the door and with each step my heart leaps. He crumbles to the ground in tears telling me he's sorry. He says he needs me and he's nothing without me. How can he be so attached and detached at the same time? I swear, this man loves to see me in pain.”

“He was the hunter of my soul, lying in wait - silently and motionless. Coaxing me out of hiding, Enticing me with love, Dangling hope in my face. Pulling me in, drawing me close. I gave in and walked into his trap. He did a good job too, tearing me apart and ripping my heart out. He was the hunter and I, the game. How could I forget that a hunter's job is to kill?”

“When they got to their hotel she went straight up to bed, but he paused to get a drink. There was, in the vestibule, a flower stall and he bought a handful of roses, stiffly wired into a bouquet, before proceeding to the oppressive gorgeousness of their bridal suite. The lift was lined with looking glass, so that as he shot upwards he got an endlessly duplicated version of himself, stout and nervous, a light cloak flung over his shoulder and flowers in his hand: an infinitely long row of gentlemen carrying offerings to an unforgiving past.”