You're like the thief who isn't the least bit sorry he stole, but is terribly, terribly sorry he's going to jail. - Rhett Butler
Margaret MitchellRead
If I said I was madly in love with you, I'd be lying and what's more, you'd know it.
Interpretation
What this quote means
The quote reflects the complexities of love and honesty in relationships.
In this quote, Margaret Mitchell emphasizes the importance of honesty in love. The speaker suggests that professing overwhelming love can be insincere, and both parties are aware of the truth behind such declarations, hinting at the idea that true intimacy relies on genuine feelings rather than exaggerated expressions.
Themes
LoveHonestyRelationshipsTruthFeelings
In practice
Example use cases
This quote can be used in a discussion about the nature of love and authenticity in romantic relationships.
More from Margaret Mitchell
All quotes βIt's a curse - this not wanting to look on naked realities. Until the war, life was never more real to me than a shadow show on a curtain. And I preferred it so. I do not like the outlines of things to be too sharp. I like them gently blurred, a little hazy.
Margaret MitchellRead
Well, my dear, take heart. Some day, I will kiss you and you will like it. But not now, so I beg you not to be too impatient.
Margaret MitchellRead
men are so conceited theyβll believe anything that flatters them
Margaret MitchellRead
Oh, why was he so handsomely blond, so courteously aloof, so maddeningly boring with his talk about Europe and books and music and poetry and things that interested her not at all - and yet so desirable?
Margaret MitchellRead
All really nice girls wonder when men don't try to kiss them. They know they shouldn't want them to and they know they must act insulted if they do, but just the same, they wish the men would try.
Margaret MitchellRead
Similar quotes
I love you because no two snowflakes are alike, and it is possible, if you stand tippy-toe, to walk between the raindrops.
Nikki GiovanniRead
You said, 'I'm going to leave him because my love for you makes any other life a lie.' I've hidden these words in the lining of my coat. I take them out like a jewel thief when no-one's watching. They haven't faded. Nothing about you has faded. You are still the colour of my blood. You are my blood. When I look in the mirror it's not my own face I see. Your body is twice. Once you once me. Can I be sure which is which?
Jeanette WintersonRead
That farewell kiss which resembles greeting, that last glance of love which becomes the sharpest pang of sorrow.
George EliotRead
My mother is an ordained minister. I'm a Muslim. She didn't do back flips when I called her to tell her I converted 17 years ago. But I tell you now, you put things to the side, and I'm able to see her, and she's able to see me. We love each other. The love has grown.
Mahershala AliRead
Their silence comfortable. Something unfolding. But what? Not love, which wrenched and wounded. Not love, which came only once.
Annie ProulxRead
My wife comes with me on all the movies, but she is not an appendage to a film star or anything like that. She is a completely intertwined partner. She is the other half of me. Also, we're still very much in love with each other. We always have been, we always will be.
Michael CaineRead