Never to have known love, never to have given or received it, never to have experienced its joys or suffered its pains - this is probably the worst loss of all.
It is a short word, but it contains all: it means the body, the soul, the life, the entire being. We feel it as we feel the warmth of the blood, we breathe it as we breath the air, we carry it in ourselves as we carry our thoughts. Nothing more exists for us. It is not a word; it is an inexpressible state indicated by four letters.
As soon as I beheld you, I thought of you alone. Your lovely eyes captivated me, yet I trembled to say I loved. O heavens! The torture to love one whom I dare not declare it. One who can never be mine! Cruel Gods!
It is love which brings about my downfallThere is a fire burns in my breastFrom which i know that I must die.I know the reason for my downfall:That I have lovedWhere I should only honor.
I hope that what I dreamt last night will not happen, for I had my head cut off... but my greatest worry was what had become of you. I did not fear death, but my greatest suffering was being deprived of news of you and not being able any longer to find out what had become of you. This sort of thing makes one realize how much one loves people.
I pray always that my passion may not become fatal to me. We are treading on dangerous ground but when people love as we love they do not consider trifles. And if one holds the loved one, what matters the cost? Were I to see the scaffold before my eyes I would not swerve.
Alas! I love my own destruction And nurse a fire within my breast Which will soon consume me I am well aware of my own perdition Because I have dared to love What I should have only worshiped
My true love hath my heart, and I have his, By just exchange one for the other given I hold his dear, and mine he cannot miss there never was a better bargin given My true love hath my heart, and I have his His heart in me keeps me and him in one My heart in him his thoughts and senses guides He loves my heart, for once it was his own I cherish his because in me it 'bides My true love hath my heart, and I have his.
Men are haunted by the vastness of eternity. And so we ask ourselves. Will our names echo across the centuries, will strangers hear our names long after we're gone and wonder who we were how bravely we fought, how fiercely we loved.
Love means to commit oneself without guarantee, to give oneself completely in the hope that our love will produce love in the loved person. Love is an act of faith, and whoever is of little faith is also of little love.
It's so easy, To think about Love, To Talk about Love, To wish for Love, But it's not always easy, To recognize Love, Even when we hold it... In our hands.
Some how I thought I knew some how I thought it was you, some where I would lay my head some where upon the mellow bed, I did not understand I just could not see why was this happening to me? I quit the use trying I laid on my bed crying hoping for something to brighten my day hoping some how you would stay. I cannot understand Why cannot I comprehend? Is there something missing? Don't you realize you said, why do I wish this all could end? The beautiful life I once called my own, you were beside me but now I'm alone, what has become of my life? Why do I feel there is no light? I once thought that I understood I once thought I knew you well but I guess I was wrong I was never right, I thought I belonged to this life, but I guess I did not hit the mark I guess I thought I was too smart now look, I am in the dirt wondering why so bad it hurt. But I still thought I would be better I still thought we should still be my once happy life has turned into clay my once happy world has been taken away, I thought I could stand on my own willing to believe that I never could have lost you, the way I did, all the things I did not want came at last. How could I be so ignorant you were pointing it out to me I thought this was to always be. I guess I was wrong and I fell on my face but now I have learned that wanting what you want never pays. The whole reason I felt like this the whole life I thought would never end, came crashing down but I could not see I struggled to breathe but I could not breathe. I finally found you were not for me at least not for now. You would be happy, some where along the lines that kept me some how I believed that everything was perfect and nothing could go wrong some how I thought the feelings towards me you had, would always be shown. I sit here wondering I lie down thinking if only I could take back if only I could relive everything I wanted to everything that hurt you, if it was never so if I was never alone, but I so quickly forgot the lesson that has been taught, of many things I pushed for but most where not for me at all. Why did I try to forget? why did I just pretend? everything was happy and you were fine, everything was better this time, I slowly forgot about the truth It was hidden in the lies I knew. Nothing would have taken me away nothing would make it ok, I thought I could stand up again and just make mend of all the things I could never do alone of all the things that made me fall down of all the things I believed were possible in me, without you? I could never be without you I am empty I am alone I feel lost because you’re gone, I still have the feelings for you I still believe that love was true but I know you are happier now then you would have been I am glad I let you go even though it was so damn hard to do I am trusting that I made the right decision I know that even through the hard times you are happier then you have been, and I love you through thick and thin I love you and I let you go because I know now you need to spread your wings and fly away though its hard I'll be okay because I know I no longer hurt you I know this is where you belong and I will be strong because I know you want me to and I am gratefully honored of the times together though sometimes I wish it could have been longer but I know this is right and I love you in spite of all the hard feelings that we both had of all the heart aches for the happy and for the sad I want you to be happy the best way you can I want you to be free from anything that holds you back.
When I am old, all that I will remember of my life is you, How beautiful you looked when we first christened our love, How amazing you looked the night we first met, How amazing you looked when we turned one hundred, How much we laughed, how often I cried, Don’t worry my love I was never sad not even for a moment. I was from time to time jealous of my own being, If I could pick another person to spend another moment with, it would be you, There is no one more beautiful, no one simpler, and no one more complex, When I look in the mirror I see you and then me.
Sometimes I spend hours looking for the words, Hours lost in my dreams, unable to speak the words, Unable to call out to you, frozen within my speechless thoughts, For heaven does not name its angels so how could I name mine? Should I think of my love as an angel or something more? As there are pretty flowers and bright stars, But aren’t pretty flowers just flowers and stars just light? There are angels, preachers speak of them, And who could speak of perfection, only perfection could speak truthfully of perfection.
There is something more then heaven in your smile, A place unnamed in this world, a home that a dream can not hope to find, Dreams are endless as is my love for you; beyond the end there is you, I will die one day loving you just as I was born destined to love you, My next words will speak of you as will my last words find peace in speaking your name, I will die as every man will but I will die fulfilled, without regret or fear, If heaven is more special then I will wish to visit with you often, Death will not part us, eternity will comfort us and we will lie upon the earth together, Young and restless, happy and beautiful, old and content,
When I am old, all that I will remember of my life is you, All that will be worth remembering is our times together, The laughter, the tears and the times in between, This is life, our life; welcome to eternity it began the moment we met, When I am thousand, all that I will remember of my life is you, All that I will wish to remember is us, All that will keep me remembering is you.
Appearance is not very important. It can change as soon as you get to know someone. What could be considered an attractive person can become more and more repulsive if you don't like them. Whereas someone that is plain and you wouldn't normally give more than a passing glance, if you love them, they, for you, can be the most perfect thing you have even seen.
Unless it's mad, passionate, extraordinary love, it's a waste of your time. There are too many mediocre things in life; love shouldn't be one of them. -Dream for an Insomniac
"When I look back on my little life, and all the women I've known I can't help but think about all that they have done for me, and how little I've done for them. How they looked after me, cared for me, and I repaid them by never returning the favor. I used to think I had the best set of the deal. What have I got? Really? Some money in my pocket. Some nice threads. Fancy car at my disposal. And I'm single, unattached, free as a bird, I don't depend on nobody, no one depends on me. My life's my own. But I don't have peace of mind. And if you don't have that, you've got nothing. So what's the answer? That is what I keep asking myself. What's it all about? You know what I mean?"Alfie
Alas, my lord, how much I rue The time I lost in my youth How often I wished To have Diane as my only love But I feared that such a goddess Would not deign to stoop so low To take notice of one, who When denied her love Had no pleasure, joy, or happiness Until the day she granted him leave To obey her commands Once more a prince (oh my only princess) My faith has no need of a fortress A deep moat or fortified tower For you are my lady, queen & mistress For whom my love will be eternal
Oh to be able to express my life's beliefs by being able to sacrifice myself & truly love someone through anything, sickness, health & even death... God help me!
We've got this gift of love, but love is like a precious plant. You can't just accept it and leave it in the cupboard or just think it's going to get on by itself. You've got to keep watering it. You've got to really look after it and nurture it.
Love is the flower of life, and blossoms unexpectedly and without law, and must be plucked where it is found, and enjoyed for the brief hour of its duration.
You wondered how you'd make it through. I wondered what was wrong with you. Because how could you give your love to someone else, yet share your dreams with me? Sometimes the only thing you're looking for, is the one thing you can't see.
I was never one to patiently pick up broken fragments and glue them together again and tell myself that the mended whole was as good as new. What is broken is broken -- and I'd rather remember it as it was at its best than mend it and see the broken places as long as I lived.
Arthur Sullivan (1842-1900) English composer and conductor who collaborated with W.S. Gilbert in writing many of gland's most famous operettas. In the late 1860s, he carried on an affair with two daughters of a prominent navel architect. He was unofficially engaged to Rachel Russell, twenty-three, but courted her older sister, Louise. Rachel Russell broke off the engagement. Never married, Arthur's high living took its toll on his last years. Addicted to morphine, and an inveterate gambler.Arthur died at the age of fifty-eight without any of his close friends in attendance. I do so fear I have given myself away to you too completely. I try and I think our love is ideal and perfect and that your letters are all my heart longs for, and that they satisfy its uttermost cravings and when I see others love -- I say to myself, mine is better, greater, purer, nobler -- and the voice I cannot silence rises within me and says -- "its false". If any other woman who love you can make you happier than I -- then darling do not fear to leave me.
Sarah Bernhardt (1844-1923) French actress. In 1882 she married jacques Damala, a Greek actor possessed of limited talent and an oversized ego, from whom she later separated. Among her lovers were the Belgian Prince de Ligne, the artist Gustave Dore, numerous actors, and the picaresque French poet, dramatist, and novelist Jean Richepin (1849-1926). This turbulent and torturous affair began shortly after her husband left to serve in the army in North Africa.
You came -- you breathed your powerful breath over me and other people, my hesitations, and my whys and wherefores all crumbled. I drank on your lips the truth of love and I trembled in your arms, feeling the real, mad sensation of bodily rapture, and I saw in your eyes the absolute superiority of your being. I kiss each of your hairs, gently I calm your adored body and my lips ask a hundred thousand pardons and beg that your lips be given back to me.
Simone de Beauvior (1908-1986) French existential writer, novelist, and feminist. In 1947 she met American writer Nelson Algren (1909-1981), in Chicago during a trip to the US. Despite their cultural and philosophical differences, their transatlantic romance was torrid and enduring, lasting for more than seventeen years.
My beloved one, I don't know why I waited so long before saying I loved you. I just wanted to be sure and not to say easy, empty words. But it seems to me now love was there since the beginning. Anyways, now it is here, it is love and my heart aches. I am happy to be so bitterly unhappy because I know you are unhappy, too, and it is sweet to have a part of the same sadness. With you pleasure was love, and now pain is love too. We must know every kind of love. We'll know the joy of meeting again. I want it, I need it, I want it, and I'll get it. Wait for me. I wait for you. I love you more even than I said, more maybe than you know.
Katherine Mansfield (1888-1923) A short story writer, born in New Zealand. She wrote her first major work, Prelude in 1917. After a short and unsuccessful marriage to George Bowden, she married, in 1918, writer John Middleton Murry (1889-1957), she died in 1923 at the age of 35.
You are all about me -- I seem to breathe you - hear you -- hear you in me and of me. Last night, there was a moment before you got in bed. You stood, quite naked, bending forward a little -- talking. It was only for an instant. I saw you -- I loved you so -- loved your body with such tenderness - Ah my dear -- And I am not thinking now of "passion". No, of that other thing that makes me feel that every inch of you is so precious to me. Your soft shoulders -- your creamy warm skin, your ears, cold like shells are cold -- your long legs and your feet that I love to clasp with my feet -- the feeling of your belly -- & your thin young back -- Just below that bone that sticks out at the back of your neck you have a little mole. It is partly because we are young that I feel this tenderness -- I love your youth. And so perfect is my love for you that I am, as it were, still, silent to my very soul. I want nobody but you for my lover and my friend and to nobody but you shall I be faithful. I am yours forever.
Ludwig van Beethoven (1770-1827). German composer, and is considered one of the titanic figures in the history of music. Never married, he nevertheless fell in love several times. On July 5, 1812 he returned to Teplitz and, over the course of the next two days composed one of the most remarkable love letters ever written. The letter was addressed to the unnamed " unsterbliche Geliebte", or immortal Beloved. This exceptional letter was found among Beethoven's personal effects after his death. It had never been sent. The Identity of its mysterious recipient has been a subject for entire books. Current research points to Antonie Brentano, an aristocratic Viennese lady he had known since 1810, who was married to a Frankfurt Businessman.
Can our love endure without sacrifices, without out demanding everything from one another; can you alter the fact that you are not wholly mine, that I am not wholly yours? Be forever my faithful, my only sweetheart, my all, as I am yours. Whatever must and shall be our fate -- yours faithful. However much you love me -- my love for you is even greater. Is not our love truly founded in Heaven - and what is more, as strongly cemented as the firmament of Heaven? Even when I am in bed my thoughts rush to you, my immortal beloved, now and then joyfully , then again sadly, waiting to know whether fate will hear our prayer -- To face life I must lice altogether with you or never see you. Yes, I am resolved to be a wanderer abroad until I can fly to your arms and say that I have found my true home with you and enfolded in your arms let my soul be wafted to the realm of blessed spirits -- alas, unfortunately it must be so -- You will become composed, the more so as you know that I am faithful to you; no other woman can ever possess my heart -- never -- never-- Oh God, why must one be separated from her who is so dear. Yet my life in Vienna at present is a miserable life -- Your love has made me both the happiest and unhappiness of mortals -- At my age I now need stability and regularity in my life -- can this coexist with our relationship? Be calm; for only by calmly considering our lives can we achieve our purpose to live together -- be calm -- love me -- Today -- yesterday -- what tearful longing for you -- for you -- you -- my life -- my all -- all good wishes to you -- Oh, do continue to love me -- never misjudge your lover's most faithful heart. Ever yours Ever mine Ever ours
Honoré de Balzac (1799-1850). French-born novelist. 1832: he received a fan letter from a married Polish noble woman, Countess Éveline Hanska. A correspondence ensued, and they met twice. The two promised to marry each other once her husband died. Their relationship endured for seven-teen years, and their correspondence, collected in the four-volume Letters to a Foreigner, is one of the greatest examples of epistolary love. Finally in March 1850, when he was already mortally ill, the two wed. Balzac died in Paris five month later.
My Beloved Angel I am nearly mad about you, as much as one can be mad: I cannot bring together two ideas that you do not interpose yourself between them. I can no longer think of nothing but you. In spite of myself, my imagination carries me to you. I grasp you, I kiss you, I caress you, a thousand of the most amorous caresses take possession of me. As for my heart, there you will always be -- very much so. I have a delicious sense of you there. But my God, what is to become of me, if you have deprived me of my reason. This is a monomania which, this morning, terrifies me. I rise up every moment saying to myself, "Come, I am going there!" Then I sit down again, moved by the sense of my obligations. There is a frightful conflict. This is not life. I have never before been like that. You have devoured everything. I whirl round in a delicious dream in which in one instant I live a thousand years. What a horrible situation! Overcome with love, feeling love in every pore, living only for love, and seeing oneself consumed by griefs, and caught in a thousand spiders' threads. O, my darling Eva, you did not know it, I picked up your card. It is there before me, and I talked to you as if you were there. I see you, as I did yesterday, beautiful, astonishingly beautiful. Yesterday, during the whole evening, I said to myself, "She is mine!" Ah! The angels are not as happy in paradise as I was yesterday!
Alfred Dreyfus (1859-1935). A French-Jewish army officer, best remembered for his arrest for treason, which initiated a twelve-year controversy widely known as the Dreyfus Affair. While in prison, and just prior to his banishment to Devil's Island, he wrote his wife Lucie about his love for her. Finally, in 1906, the verdict was overturned, and all charges were dropped.
I am denied the right to see you. But I must trust in God's justice. In the end truth must prevail. Crushed down in this sombre cell, alone with my reeling brain, I have had moments when I have been beside myself. I embrace you a thousand times, as I love you, as I adore you.
John Rodgers (1773-1838). The highest ranking American navel officer during the War of 1812 and U.S. Secretary of the Navy in 1823. John's missives won Minerva Denison's heart and the two were married upon is return to America following the Tripolitan War.
The magnetic power of your charms have to this moment prevented my heart from varying a single second. I know no art in love as you may plainly discover by the diction of my scribbling, but the professions I have made were dictated by heart as honest, as proud, and honorable as that of any other being in existence, and if to possess such feelings be a crime, the errors are not mine but his who made us both. I feel my intellect so perfectly inadequate to an expression of the sensations I feel, that I am oblig'd with painful reluctance to drop the subject.
Vita Sackville-West (1892-1962). English poet and novelist. Virginia Woolf (1882-1941). British novelist , essayist, critic, feminist, socialist, pacifist and one of the leaders in the modernist movement.
I just miss you, in a quite simple desperate human way. I miss you even more than I could have believed; and I was prepared to miss you a good deal. So this letter is really just a squeal of pain. It is incredible how essential to me you have become. I suppose you are accustomed to people saying these things. Damn you, spoilt creature; I shan't make you love me any the more by giving myself away like this-- But oh my dear, I can't be cleaver and stand-offish with you: I love you too much for that. Too truly. You have broken down my defenses. And I don't really resent it.
Zelda Fitzgerald (1900-1948) American novelist. The beautiful daughter of a well-to-do family from Montgomery, Alabama, Zelda was a free-spirited, rebellious girl when she met author F Scott Fitzgerald (1896-1940) in July 1918. He noted in his journal that on September 7th he fell in love with Zelda, and the two were married in a small ceremony at New York St. Patrick's Cathedral in April 1920. A failed ballet dancer and artist, she had a modestly successful career as a novelist, her most famous work being, Save Me the Waltz (1932), which she wrote at Phillips Clinic in Baltimore, while recovering from her second mental breakdown. From the beginning, the two carried on an extremely unhealthy, yet enduring and intense love affair. Diagnosed as a schizophrenic, she died in a fire at the Highland Hospital Sanitarium where she had been admitted for depression.
I look down the tracks and see you coming-- and out of every haze and mist your darling rumpled trousers are hurrying to me-- Without you, dearest dearest I couldn't see or hear of feel or think-- or live-- I love you so and I'm never in all our lives going to let us be apart another night. It's like begging for mercy of a storm or killing beauty or growing old, without you. I want to kiss you so-- and in the back where your dear hair starts and your chest -- I love you -- and I can't tell you how much-- to think that I'll die without you knowing -- You've got to try [to] feel how much I do-- how inanimate I am when you're gone-- I can't even hate these damnable people-- Nobody's got any right to live but us-- and they're dirtying up our world and I can't hate them because I love you so-- Come quick-- Come quick to me-- I could never do without you if you hated me and were covered with sores like a leper-- if you ran away with another woman and starved me and beat me-- I still would want you I know-- Lover, Lover, Darling-- Your wife
Ernest Hemingway (1899-1961). Celebrated American author, awarded the Nobel Prize for literature in 1954. Hemingway first met the vivacious and intelligent Mary Welsh in May 1944. At that time his marriage to Martha Gellborn was already on skids, then ended when she displayed an insensitive bedside manner while visiting Hemingway in London after a serious automobile accident. He became infatuated with Mary and was reunited with her after the liberation of Paris. Though friends expected their marriage in 1946 to collapse quickly, it endured until July 1961 when Hemingway committed suicide.
It's tough as hell without you and I'm doing it straight but I miss you so [I] could die. If anything happened to you I'd die the way an animal will die in the zoo if something should happen to his mate. Much love dearest and know I'm not impatient. I'm just desperate.
George Herbert Walker Bush (b. 1924). Forty-first president of the United States. The U.S. Navy's youngest pilot during World War II. He married Barbara Pierce while home on leave in January 1945.
I love you, Precious, with all my heart and to know that your love me means my life. This may sound melodramatic, but if it does it is only my inadequacy to say what I mean. You have made my life full of everything I could ever dream of – my complete happiness should be a token of my love for you.
George Armstrong Custer (1839-1876) American General. In 1866 George became a lieutenant colonel of the seventh Calvary, and took part in General Winfield Scott Hancock's expedition against the plains indians. His wife Elizabeth, the daughter of an Ohio judge, was a well-educated, strong-minded woman with an ambitious spirit. Her devotion was legendary, as she followed him throughout his military campaigns, staying in tents, farms, and boarding houses. His feelings towards her were no less devotional -- in 1867, George was court-martialed & suspended for one year without pay for having made an unauthorized visit to his wife at a nearby fort.
While living she is my all, and if destiny wills me to die, wills that my country needs my death, my last prayer will be for her, my last breathe will speak her name and that Heaven will not be Heaven till we are joined together. Yours through time & eternity,
Born in Yoro, Honduras, and was raised in poverty under the dictatorship of Tiburcio Carias Andino. A teacher, journalist & editor, he lives in Tegucigalpa, where his Obra Completa was published in 1990. Blessed are the loversfor theirs is the grain of sandthat sustains the center of the seas.Their only strength against the wind and tideare the beautifying words of all existance; I love youWe shall grow old together to the end. --(b 1930)
Sa'id 'Aql (translated by Matthew Sorenson & Naomi Shihab Nye)
14.4.08
Lebanese poet who is best known for bringing the influence of French Symbolism into Arabic poetry.
More beautiful than your eyes is my love for your eyes. When you sing, all being sings. Are you there above me, star of my longing, or are you just a phantom dream? When I think of you, fragrances enter me-- Can it be you were created by a rose? Perhaps the longing for beauty made you, raised and hopeful hands designed your form. Do the strings of the passionately fingered lute imagine those who yearn for melody? We meet in moments traunt from time free from boundaries, dissolving all bounds. The beckonings universe swings us into the heavens on an endless flight. The most beautiful aspect of our land is the vision that you have lived here. -- (b.1912)
If you could sit with me beside the sea today, And whisper with me sweetest dreamings o'er; I think I should not find the clouds so dim and grey. And not so loud the waves complaining at the shore. If you could sit with me upon the shore today, And hold my hand in yours as in the days of old, a I think I would not mind the chill baptismal spray Nor find my hand and heart and all the world so cold If you could walk with me upon the strand today And tell me that my longing love had won your own, I think all my sad thoughts would then be put away, And I could give back laughter for the Ocean's moan!
Was the son of slaves, whose father fled to Canada to escape slavery and whose mother was freed after the Civil War. He grew up in Daytona, Ohio, in a household where self-taught readers cherished volumes of history and poetry. His poetry draws from the blues-- spiritual tradition as well as from his reading of European poetry. He became the first widely popular black poet in America. A maiden wept and, as a comforter,Came one who cried, "I love thee," and he seizedHer in his arms and kissed her with hot breathThat dried tears upon her flaming cheeks.While evermore his boldly blazing eyesBurned into hers; but she uncomfortedShrank from his arms and only wept more.Then one came and gazed mutely in her faceWith wide and wistful eyes; but still aloofHe held himself; as with a reverent fear,As one who knows some sacred presence nigh.And as she wept he mingled tear with tear.That cheered her soul like dew a dusty flower, --Until she smiled, approached, and touched his hand! (1872-1906)
Fires run through my body-- the pain of loving you.Pain runs through my body with the fires of loving youSickness wanders my body with my love for you.Pain like a boil about t burst with my love for you. Consumed by fire with my love for you.I remember what you said to me.I am thinking of your love for me.I am torn by your love for me.Pain and more pain.Where are you going with my love?I'm told you will leave me here.My body is numb with grief.Remember what I've said, my love.Goodbye, my love, goodbye. --(ca. 1896)
Often called the first poet in the United States, and may have been the first woman poet in the English language. She was a scholar of English, French and classical literature and spoke out for the rights of Puritan woman.
If ever two were one, then surely we. If even man were loved by wife, then thee; If ever wife was happy in man, Compare with me ye women if you can. I prize thy love more than whole mines of gold, Or all the riches that the East doth hold, My love is such I can no way repay. The heavens reward thee manifold I pray. Ten while we live, in love let's so persevere, That when we live no more, we may live forever -- (1612-1672)
Is one of the most influential poets in all history. He established the dominance of the ten and eleven syllable line in Renaissance European poetry.
If constancy in love, if a brave heart,the honeys of longing and courteousdesire, if passion built a gentle firesomewhere in its winding labyrinth;if my every thought was etched uponmy face, understood in broken wordsor shattered by fear and shame, or if a pallor, like a violet's, stained by love...if love is to be altruistic,if repeated sighs and weeping tears feed equally on sorrow and rage:if to burn at a distance or freezenearby, if love should dismantle me,the blame is yours, Love, the loss with me--(1304-1374)
A young professor of theology in Turkey. He was a prolific poet whose highly rhythmical verses became dances for whirling dervishes.
If anyone asks you how the perfect satisfaction of all our sexual -wanting will look, life your face and say Like this. When someone mentions the gracefulness of the nightsky, climb up on the roof and dance and say Like this? If anyone wants to know what "spirit" is, or what "God's fragrance" means, lean your head toward him or her. Keep your face there close. Like this. When someone quotes the old poetic image about clouds gradually uncovering the moon, slowly loosen knot by knot the strings of your robe. Like this? If anyone wonders how Jesus raised the dead, don't try to explain the miracle. kiss me on the lips. Like this, like this. When someone asks what is means to "die for love", point: here. The soul sometimes leaves the body, then returns when someone doesn't believe that, walk back into my house. Like this When lovers moan, they're telling our story Like this. I am a sky where spirit live. Stare into this deepening blue, while the breeze says a secret. Like this. (1207-1273)
There is a new blog... I am the administrator so therefore I do most of the advertising. It is a group blog, everyone that I live with at present in Santiago, Chile. It is just getting started, but since there are a lot of changes right now, there is a fair bit of things to post, and there will be almost 10 authors if everyone decides to put in their part. Here is the link EnvisageHome and a permanent link will be placed under my 'them' list. And while I am talking about links, I will let you know that I changed my personal photography from shutterchance to eyefetch, and the GeminiSide link will now take you there.
Oh the pain! The pain of wanting what you cannot have. In many ways people experience this type of pain, pain for love... I am in pain, for the love of a child. I see all my friends both younger and older coming into the joys of motherhood. How their lives have changed as they found the love of their child. How long I have waited, hoped for and prayed that soon would come the day where I too could fell the imensity of it. So strongly is the love that I feel for the children of my friends and family that I could not even fathom feelings of a stronger intensity. Oh, the day that motherhood finds me... that day I will be speachless
Spring after spring, I sat before my mirror. I've gone another year without you,shuddering with each letter--since you're gone,even wine has lost its flavor.I wept until it was autumn,my thoughts are going south beside you.Even the gates of Heaven are nearer to me now than you.
Often called the Empress of Song. She was one of the most brilliant and innovative poets of the Sung dynasty. Her courage, her sharp tongued literary criticism, and her passionate poems portray a remarkably liberated woman for her time.
There is the book, the inkstone, the table. But he who was in my life has disappeared. It is hard to speak through tears. I've heard it's always spring at Wu Ling, and beautiful. I'd take a little boat and drift. alone on the water, but I'm afraid a boat so small would sink with the weight of all my sorrow.
Cheek by cheek on our pillows,we promised to love until green mountains fall,and iron floats on the river, and the Yellow River runs dry;to love till Orion rises in the dayand the north star wanders south.We promised undying love until the sunat midnight burns the sky.
Chinas' most famous poet, was imprisoned as a traitor, pardoned, exiled, celebrated, granted amnesty, and lived as a kind of knight-errant and miscreant. he was the most imaginative and original poet of T'ang dynasty.
The lamp has burned lowand I am exhausted by longing.I open the curtain to watch the moon, but my sighs are all in vain.She who is lovely as all the flowersremains beyond the distant clouds.The heavens are deep blue and endless;below, the waves are pale.the sky has no end, like my journey. We suffer as we go.Even dreams cannot cross overthe vast mountains that divide us. And this eternal longingcan turn a heart to dust.-(701-762)
Her perfect breastupon my breast,her lips between my lips,I lay in perfect blisswith lovely Antigone,nothing caught between us, I will not tell the restOnly the lamp bore witness. -- (60 B.C.)
I can't bear to watch your hips as you walk away Untie me Your thin dress leaves you nearly naked. You teaseand tease. But one suggestion: dress me, too, in gauze so you can seethe shadow of my erection. (60 B.C.)
Whether I see you now with glistening raven hair or find you blond and fair, I find somehow in your face that same grace I dare-say the very god of love will stroke your hair when it's gray. (2nd century B.C.)
Quite a few people have mentioned to me that this blog is very depressing... Maybe you yourself have thought that without voicing your cynicism... Sadly, I believe that this human emotion of depression is a very common occurrence in love and that does overtake people from time to time... I am not trying to emphasis depression through this blog... I do believe in showing all sides of love... and I think that there has been a decent balance here... I know a lot of people when they fall in love for the first time, they believe it to be as a fairy tale where everything will be perfect, but of course we as humans are not perfect, falling far short from it, and when something happens or 'goes wrong' they lose their belief in love or turn to hate towards the person they used to love. Human love is not perfect, it never can be... You will most likely be hurt by the one you love at least once in your life... But that is not a reason to abandon love... You need love just as much as one needs God, for they are one and the same...
Give me all the kisses of your mouth.Your love is better than wine.Your body oils are fragrant,your name pours from my tongue.That is why I adore you.... Love is stronger than death, jealousycruel as a grave flashing fire. Many water are not enough to slake the thirst of lovea multitude of floods cannot submerge it. If a man gives all of his household goods for love,it would not be enough. --(3rd century B.C.)
The following collection of poems are taken from 'The Erotic Spirit' and anthology of poems of sensuality, love and longing, edited by Sam Hamill. Poems from around the world - covering more than thirty centuries - celebrates the erotic spirit in all its forms, from passion of sexual desire to the intense longing for spiritual union. Many of the poems are presented here in new translations by the editor except as noted.
He is almost a god, a man beside you, enthralled by your talk, your laughter. Watching makes my heart beat fast because, seeing little, I imagine much. You put a fire in my cheeks Speech won't come. My ears ring. Blind to all others, I sweat and stammer. I am a trembling thing, like grass, an inch from dying.
--Sappho (6th century B.C.) Born in the late-seventh century B.C. on the Greek island of Lesbos. Only one of her poems exists in its entirety; the rest only fragments.
I have been astonished that men could diemartyrs for their religion- I have shudder'd at it. I shudder no more.I could be martyr'd for my religionLove is my religionI could die for thatI could die for you.
So dear I love him that with him all deaths I could endure. Without him, live no life. -- Romeo & Juliet Click HERE to read about the Romeo & Juliet Bones
Birthday Blog.... January 1st 2008 will start a year of birthday posts... Every person will be given a post dedicated to them. If you would like to be up there or have a post dedicated to a friend or member of your family, just send me their full name, birthdate and picture. This blog will be only for a year, but I will continue to edit it, but posts will stay in their appropriate months for easy reference in the years to come! Feel free to leave birthday comments to those you know... To find the link, you can find it to the right under "Them" www.yourbirthdays.blogspot.com
There's a place in me where your fingerprints still rest, your kisses still linger, and your whispers softly echo. It's the place where a part of you will forever be a part of me.
Don't you hate that? Uncomfortable silence. Why do we feel it's necessary to talk about bull in order to feel comfortable? That's when you know you've found somebody really special. When you can just shut the hell up for a minute and comfortably share a silence. -- Pulp Fiction
I know that I will love you forever with a love that no one could measure a love so great, so strong and true through the eyes of love is the only way I see you I would never be able to take you from my heart as doing that would tear me apart your love is so precious and true that something I could never do is leave that treasured love behind the love you’ve brought to my soul and mind the love in us will always abide no one could ever push it aside my heart will break and even tear if I could not feel your presence there our love unites our minds and with our hearts forever binds I love you, forever will even when my hearts gone still.
...this distance from you not feeling you here not knowing when I can be with you is something I can hardly bear for I love you with all the depths of my soul my mind is getting out of control I long to see you again I hope it’ll last forever then
I have just created a photo blog, of my personal photography, it is small but something to start with. There is at present not much uploaded as they only allow one photo per day, limit 30 photos. Not much but hope you enjoy it! Please feel free to comment... You can find the link on the side under "Them" or on the link below www.geminiside.shutterchance.com
I'm absolutely crazy about you,I can't stop thinking about you. You're always in my mind, you're in my heart, you're in every fucking bit of me. If I could live this life again, I would never leave you for a second.--Beyond Borders
In one respect I have succeeded as gloriously as anyone who ever lived. I have loved another with all my heart and soul and for me that has always been enough. --The Notebook
I am at a loss for words. I have once more been broken down. At these time I almost feel as if God has abandoned me. Why does He always put me through such difficult things? The strongest thing that I believed in is being destroyed. Maybe I do give my heart away to quickly... But now I fear that, if I am to stay of sane mind, I can never give it away again. I will never come to experience the ultimate of life. To love... truly love...
Love is only a bow on life’s dark cloud. It is the Morning and the Evening Star. It was the first to dream of immortality. It fills the world with melody, for Music is the voice of love. Love is the magician, the enchanter, that changes worthless things to joy, and makes right royal kings and queens to common clay. It is the perfume of the wondrous flower – the heart and without that sacred passion, that divine swoon, we are less than beasts; but with it, earth is heaven and we are as gods.
Each time that one loves is the only time one has ever loved. Difference in object does not alter singleness in passion. It merely intensifies it. We can have but one great experience at best, and the secret of life is to reproduce that experience as often as possible. --The Picture of Dorian Grey
Hatred ever kills, love never dies. Such is the vast difference between the two. What is obtained by love is retained for all time. What is obtained by hatred proves a burden in reality for it increases hatred.
If you were all alone in the universe with no one to talk to, no one with which to share the beauty of the stars, to laugh with, to touch, what would be your purpose in life? It is other life, it is love, which gives your life meaning.
To live in this world you must be able to do three things: to love what is mortal; to hold it against your bones knowing your own life depends on it; and when the time comes to let go, to let go.
Love never dies a natural death. It dies because we don't know how to replenish it's source. It dies of blindness and errors and betrayals. It dies of illness and wounds; it dies of weariness, of witherings, of tarneshings.
How do I love thee? Let me count the ways. I love thee to the depth, breadth and height My soul can reach, when feeling out of sight From the ends of being and ideal Grace. … I love thee with a love I seemed to lose With my lost saints – I love thee with the breath smiles & tears of all my life! And if God choose, I shall but love thee better after death
Love is a feeling to be learned It is a tension & fulfillment It is deep longing & hostility It is gladness and it is pain There is not one without the other Happiness is only part of love This is what has to be learned Sufferings belongs to love also This is the mytery of love Its beauty & its burden Love is a feeling to be learned.
I dream, melancholy at the windowsill memories I will never tell our passion in the last night hours, our tearful goodbyes at down. Mountains and rivers divide us. I've given up hope for rain. Divided - I dream of you today I even embrace the pain.
If you love something, set it free. If it comes back to you, it's yours. If it doesn't, it was never meant to be. We do not possess anything in this world, least of all people.
This blog was created for my inspiration, I decided to share it for those with like mind. This is not for any certain person or persons, solely the subject. It is defiantly not for all, but if you like it your comments are welcome. I hope you enjoy what you read!
Alfred Dreyfus (1859-1935). A French-Jewish army officer, best remembered for his arrest for treason, which initiated a twelve-year controversy widely known as the Dreyfus Affair. While in prison, and just prior to his banishment to Devil's Island, he wrote his wife Lucie about his love for her. Finally, in 1906, the verdict was overturned, and all charges were dropped.
Remembering
If death should call tomorrow, I will be at peace. As I have loved & been loved.
