True Lovers Quotes

The true lover of knowledge naturally strives for truth, and is not content with common opinion, but soars with undimmed and unwearied passion till he grasps the essential nature of things.

A true Lover is proved such by his pain of Heart! No sickness is there like sickness of Heart!!!

True lovers are as rare as true rebels.

The true lover realizes that freedom is needed for loyalty to blossom.

Love remains a secret even when spoken, for only a true lover truly knows that he is loved.

True lovers may never know what love means. A man may love a woman out of his reach. She does not know he loves her, and he will never speak of it.

True liars never love. True lovers never lie.

An idealistic lover is a blind lover, and therefore a true lover; a pragmatic lover is a sighted lover, and therefore a false lover.

The True Lover is the one who realizes that Loyalty must go hand in hand with Freedom.

Like the musician, the painter, the poet, and the rest, the true lover of flowers is born, not made. And he is born to happiness in this vale of tears, to a certain amount of the purest joy that earth can giver her children, joy that is tranquil, innocent, uplifting, unfailing.

If we let our friend become cold and selfish and exacting without a remonstrance, we are no true lover, no true friend.

I am speaking now of the highest duty we owe our friends, the noblest, the most sacred - that of keeping their own nobleness, goodness, pure and incorrupt. If we let our friend become cold and selfish and exacting without remonstrance, we are no true lover, no true friend.

The bond between true lovers is as close as we come to what endures forever.

True rebels after all, are as rare as true lovers,and in both cases, to mistake a fever for passion can destroy one's life

True lovers know how trifling a thing is money yet how difficult to blend with love!

Good even, good fair moon, good even to thee. I prithee, dear moon, now show to me the form and the features, the speech and degree, of the man that true lover of mine shall be.

And as he held his first true lover against him, feeling that familiar difference in their heights and smelling that wonderful cologne, part of him wanted to debate this break up until they both gave in and kept trying. But that wasn’t fair.

Come away, come away, Death, And in sad cypress let me be laid; Fly away, fly away, breath, I am slain by a fair cruel maid. My shroud of white stuck all with yew, O prepare it! My part of death no one so true did share it. Not a flower, not a flower sweet, On my black coffin let there be strewn: Not a friend, not a friend greet My poor corpse, where my bones shall be thrown. A thousand thousand sighs to save, lay me O where Sad true lover never find my grave, to weep there!

All or nothing at all, the true lover says, and that's the truth of it. My love will never die, he says. He claims eternity. And rightly. How can it die when it's life itself? What do we know of eternity but the glimpse we get of it when we enter in that bond?

Your earthly lover can be charming and coquettish but never very faithful. The true lover is the one who on your final day opens a thousand doors.

We that are true lovers run into strange capers; but as all is mortal in nature, so is all nature in love mortal in folly.

We that are true lovers run into strange capers.

With women, the great business of life is love; and they generally make a mistake in it. They consult neither the heart nor the head, but are led away by mere humour and fancy. If instead of a companion for life, they had to choose a partner in a country-dance or to trifle away an hour with, their mode of calculation would be right. They tie their true-lover's knot with idle, thoughtless haste, while the institutions of society render it indissoluble.

Like the musician, the painter, the poet and the rest, the true lover of flowers is born, not made.

Be happy, be happy; you shall have your red rose. I will build it out of music by moonlight, and stain it with my own heart's-blood. All that I ask of you in return is that you will be a true lover, for Love is wiser than Philosophy, though she is wise, and mightier than Power, though he is mighty.

Then as now, evil begins its courtship cloaked in light. And the heart embraces what is should flee. Forgetting it once had a true lover. Love will prove greater than lust. Sacrifice will overcome seduction. And blood will flow.

In true love the smallest distance is too great, and the greatest distance can be bridged.

If ever thou shalt love, In the sweet pangs of it remember me; For such as I am all true lovers are, Unstaid and skittish in all motions else Save in the constant image of the creature That is beloved.

True friends never apart maybe in distance but never in heart

Then may we not fairly plead in reply that our true lover of knowledge naturally strives for truth, and is not content with common opinion, but soars with undimmed and unwearied passion till he grasps the essential nature of things with the mental faculty fitted to do so, that is, with the faculty which is akin to reality, and which approaches and unites with it, and begets intelligence and truth as children, and is only released from travail when it has thus reached knowledge and true life and satisfaction?

For you see, each day I love you more. Today more than yesterday and less than tomorrow.

When love is not madness, it is not love.

Love is our true destiny. We do not find the meaning of life by ourselves alone - we find it with another.

The art of love is largely the art of persistence.

Divine in hookas, glorious in a pipe When tipp'd with amber, mellow, rich, and ripe;... Yet thy true lovers more admire by far Thy naked beauties - give me a cigar!

We waste time looking for the perfect lover, instead of creating the perfect love.

A true lover always feels in debt to the one he loves

Things must be felt with the heart.

So they grew, and they grew, to the church steeple tops And they couldn't grow up any higher; So they twin'd themselves into a true lover's knot, For all lovers true to admire.

Sublime tobacco! which from east to west, Cheers the tar's labour or the Turkman's rest; Which on the Moslem's ottoman divides His hours, and rivals opium and his brides; Magnificent in Stamboul, but less grand, Though not less loved, in Wapping or the Strand: Divine in hookas, glorious in a pipe, When tipp'd with amber, mellow, rich, and ripe; Like other charmers wooing the caress, More dazzlingly when daring in full dress; Yet thy true lovers more admire by far Thy naked beauties Give me a cigar!

your concert-goer, though he feed upon symphony as a lamb upon milk, is no true lover if he play no instrument. Your true lover does more than admire the muse; he sweats a little in her service.

The real lover is the man who can thrill you by kissing your forehead.

The true lover of learning then must his earliest youth, as far as in him lies, desire all truth.... He whose desires are drawn toward knowledge in every form will be absorbed in the pleasures of the soul, and will hardly feel bodily pleasures I mean, if he be a true philosopher and not a sham one ... Then how can he who has the magnificence of mind and is the spectator of all times and all existence, think much of human life He cannot. Or can such a one account death fearful No indeed.

We accept the love we think we deserve.

Love looks not with the eyes, but with the mind, And therefore is winged Cupid painted blind.

Love is missing someone whenever you're apart, but somehow feeling warm inside because you're close in heart.

You know you're in love when you stop comparing.

Love is composed of a single soul inhabiting two bodies.

You know you're in love when you can't fall asleep because reality is finally better than your dreams.

If I had a flower for every time I thought of you...I could walk through my garden forever.