Amare et sapere vix deo conceditur

[DenverBachelor]

So let's all take a deep breath with the realization that life does go on post-relationship.

 

What is your favourite quote, piece of song lyrics, piece from a play, etc. about love?

 

I'll start with mine (ps: The title is Latin and basically means that even God finds it hard to love and be wise at the same time)

Lord Byron

 

So we'll go no more a-roving

So late into the night,

Though the heart still be as loving,

And the moon still be as bright.

 

For the sword outwears its sheath,

And the soul outwears the breast,

And the heart must pause to breathe,

And love itself have rest.

 

Though the night was made for loving,

And the day returns too soon,

Yet we'll go no more a-roving

By the light of the moon.

 

 

Mine

No More Passion

 

She whispered to me, a breath lingering

Across the stale cold air,

"I want to tell you something,"

she began while holding me

while two bodies fell together

towards that warm soft bed

 

"I love you,"

was all I remember of those words

as I now fell alone,

those memories still lingering

on that cold barren bed.

[ishmaiel]

Nice to see Latin, here or anywhere. Nowhere enough.

 

I like Herrick's Sweet Disorder

 

A sweet disorder in the dress

Kindles in clothes a wantonness:

A lawn about the shoulders thrown

Into a fine distraction --

An erring lace, which here and there

Enthrals the crimson stomacher --

A cuff neglectful, and thereby

Ribbands to flow confusedly --

A winning wave, deserving note,

In the tempestuous petticoat --

A careless shoe-string, in whose tie

I see a wild civility --

Do more bewitch me than when art

Is too precise in every part.

[TaraMaiden]

Kahlil Gibran on Love

 

When love beckons to you, follow him,

Though his ways are hard and steep.

And when his wings enfold you yield to him,

Though the sword hidden among his pinions may wound you.

And when he speaks to you believe in him,

Though his voice may shatter your dreams

as the north wind lays waste the garden.

 

For even as love crowns you so shall he crucify you.

Even as he is for your growth so is he for your pruning.

Even as he ascends to your height and caresses your tenderest branches that quiver in the sun,

So shall he descend to your roots and shake them in their clinging to the earth.

[smk]

I seem to be reading some of his stuff at the moment:

 

Here I love you:

 

Here I love you.

In the dark pines the wind disentangles itself.

The moon glows like phosphorous on the vagrant waters.

Days, all one kind, go chasing each other.

 

The snow unfurls in dancing figures.

A silver gull slips down from the west.

Sometimes a sail. High, high stars.

Oh the black cross of a ship.

Alone.

 

 

Sometimes I get up early and even my soul is wet.

Far away the sea sounds and resounds.

This is a port.

 

Here I love you.

Here I love you and the horizon hides you in vain.

I love you still among these cold things.

Sometimes my kisses go on those heavy vessels

that cross the sea towards no arrival.

I see myself forgotten like those old anchors.

 

The piers sadden when the afternoon moors there.

My life grows tired, hungry to no purpose.

I love what I do not have. You are so far.

My loathing wrestles with the slow twilights.

But night comes and starts to sing to me.

 

The moon turns its clockwork dream.

The biggest stars look at me with your eyes.

And as I love you, the pines in the wind

want to sing your name with their leaves of wire.

 

I do not love you except because I love you

 

I do not love you except because I love you;

I go from loving to not loving you,

From waiting to not waiting for you

My heart moves from cold to fire.

 

I love you only because it's you the one I love;

I hate you deeply, and hating you

Bend to you, and the measure of my changing love for you

Is that I do not see you but love you blindly.

 

Maybe January light will consume

My heart with its cruel

Ray, stealing my key to true calm.

 

In this part of the story I am the one who

Dies, the only one, and I will die of love because I love you,

Because I love you, Love, in fire and blood.

[TaraMaiden]

Noli me tangerere et noli turbare circulos meos.

 

(Touch me not, and neither disturb my space")

[DenverBachelor]

It was a woman who drove me to drink and I never got the chance to thank her. -- W.C. Fields

 

Yes, madam, I am drunk. But in the morning I will be sober and you will still be ugly. -- Winston Churchill

[smk]

"This is my story. It starts with me. And it ends with me. And everything in the middle is about me. Greatest ****ing story ever written." - Sleeptalkinman

 

Lyrics -

Taio Cruz - Dynamite

 

I throw my hands up in the air sometimes

Saying AYO

Gotta let go

I wanna celebrate and live my life

Saying AYO

Baby, let's go

 

Eminem - Love the way you lie

 

Now I know we said things

Did things

That we didn't mean

And we fall back

Into the same patterns

Same routine

But your temper's just as bad

As mine is

You're the same as me

But when it comes to love

You're just as blinded

Baby please come back

It wasn't you

Baby it was me

Maybe our relationship

Isn't as crazy as it seems

Maybe that's what happens

When a tornado meets a volcano

All I know is

I love you too much

To walk away though

 

Movies - hes just not that into you

 

Every movie we see, Every story we're told implores us to wait for it, the third act twist, the unexpected declaration of love, the exception to the rule. But sometimes we're so focused on finding our happy ending we don't learn how to read the signs. How to tell from the ones who want us and the ones who don't, the ones who will stay and the ones who will leave. And maybe a happy ending doesn't include a guy, maybe... it's you, on your own, picking up the pieces and starting over, freeing yourself up for something better in the future. Maybe the happy ending is... just... moving on. Or maybe the happy ending is this, knowing after all the unreturned phone calls, broken-hearts, through the blunders and misread signals, through all the pain and embarrassment you never gave up hope.

Edited August 4, 2010 by smk

[Sophia8]

One of mine would have to be Thomas Hardy - Under the Waterfall

 

'Whenever I plunge my arm, like this,

In a basin of water, I never miss

The sweet sharp sense of a fugitive day

Fetched back from its thickening shroud of gray.

Hence the only prime

And real love-rhyme

That I know by heart,

And that leaves no smart,

Is the purl of a little valley fall

About three spans wide and two spans tall

Over a table of solid rock,

And into a scoop of the self-same block;

The purl of a runlet that never ceases

In stir of kingdoms, in wars, in peaces;

With a hollow boiling voice it speaks

And has spoken since hills were turfless peaks.'

 

'And why gives this the only prime

Idea to you of a real love-rhyme?

And why does plunging your arm in a bowl

Full of spring water, bring throbs to your soul?'

'Well, under the fall, in a crease of the stone,

Though precisely where none ever has known,

Jammed darkly, nothing to show how prized,

And by now with its smoothness opalized,

Is a drinking glass:

For, down that pass

My lover and I

Walked under a sky

Of blue with a leaf-wove awning of green,

In the burn of August, to paint the scene,

And we placed our basket of fruit and wine

By the runlet's rim, where we sat to dine;

And when we had drunk from the glass together,

Arched by the oak-copse from the weather,

I held the vessel to rinse in the fall,

Where it slipped, and it sank, and was past recall,

Though we stooped and plumbed the little abyss

With long bared arms. There the glass still is.

And, as said, if I thrust my arm below

Cold water in a basin or bowl, a throe

From the past awakens a sense of that time,

And the glass we used, and the cascade's rhyme.

The basin seems the pool, and its edge

The hard smooth face of the brook-side ledge,

And the leafy pattern of china-ware

The hanging plants that were bathing there.

 

'By night, by day, when it shines or lours,

There lies intact that chalice of ours,

And its presence adds to the rhyme of love

Persistently sung by the fall above.

No lip has touched it since his and mine

In turns therefrom sipped lovers' wine.'

Edited August 4, 2010 by Sophia8