Quotes on I Love Him

Sam said to me the other day, "I love you like 20 tyrannosauruses on 20 mountaintops," and this is the exact same way in which I love him.

I love you without knowing how, or when, or from where. I love you simply, without problems or pride: I love you in this way because I do not know any other way of loving but this, in which there is no I or you, so intimate that your hand upon my chest is my hand, so intimate that when I fall asleep your eyes close.

Perhaps the feelings that we experience when we are in love represent a normal state. Being in love shows a person who he should be.

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

Love is a promise, love is a souvenir, once given never forgotten, never let it disappear.

If I had a friend and loved him because of the benefits which this brought me and because of getting my own way, then it would not be my friend that I loved but myself. I should love my friend on account of his own goodness and virtues and account of all that he is in himself. Only if I love my friend in this way do I love him properly.

A purpose of human life, no matter who is controlling it, is to love whoever is around to be loved.

My director, Jesus, does not teach me to count my acts, but to do everything for love, to refuse Him nothing, to be pleased when He gives me a chance to prove to Him that I love Him - but all this in peace - in abandonment.

I love him for his sake;_x000D_ _x000D_ And yet I know him a notorious liar,_x000D_ _x000D_ Think him a great way fool, solely a coward;_x000D_ _x000D_ Yet these fix'd evils sit so fit in him_x000D_ _x000D_ That they take place when virtue's steely bones_x000D_ _x000D_ Looks bleak i' th' cold wind; withal, full oft we see_x000D_ _x000D_ Cold wisdom waiting on superfluous folly.

'Twas not my lips you kissed but my soul.

Whenever I have knocked, a door has opened. Wherever I have wandered, a path has appeared. I have been helped, supported, encouraged and nurtured by people of all races, creeds, colors and dreams.

There is a little boy inside the man who is my brother... Oh, how I hated that little boy. And how I love him too.

How can so much beauty hide such a bruised and steely heart, and why must I love him, why must I lean in my weariness upon his irresistible yet indomitable strength? Is he not the wizend funeral spirit of a dead man in a child's clothes?