"Love is an illusion aweet and sensuous whispers...the arousal stirred by exploratory caresses--and once you release your hart to the other, once you've allowed your soul whisper with the others--it eventually becomes nothing more than a fantasy." I personally do not feel this way about love, but I still thought it was beautful.
"Fantasies are wondrous and when they transcend into reality...ah, the sweetness of it is uncomparable. But we cannot confus that with love. Love consists of pain and heartache...fantasies do not" I again do not feel this, but found it very heart breaking.
"There is nothing truly bad or good, but that thinking makes it so."
"It is better to love and lose than never have loved at all!"
This is a story, That Will Last Forever, is the title. "In the morning they said good-bye, but the memory of last night remained om their hearts...Forever. All through that day, wherever he went, she was with him. And wherever she went, he was with her. And they smiled with the knowing that it would be that way forever."
I want a warrior who is strong and brave,
Who will treat me with honor and respect,
Who loves as fiercely as he fights,
A warrior who is strong enough to protect and provide
for me.
Who can be tender as well as strong,
Who will fight with me, when I need to fight,
Who will hold me, when I need to cry,
Who will make me laugh, when I need to laugh,
One who will face battle with courage,
And after the battle is won he will return home,
with triumph and stained with blood of victory
Isn't this what every women wants??
Love is
patient and kind;
it is not jealous
or conceited
or proud.
Love is not happy with evil,
but is happy with
the truth.
Love never
gives up: it’s faith,
hope and patience
never fail.
It is hard to find true love anymore, but this is what I believe it will be.
Crying it is useless, it does no good and yet it never
accomplishes anything. Then my friend you ask why?
Why do you sit here and cry? I sit here and cry
because I loved. I loved. Yet I loved wrong. I loved
him more than myself, yet I loved wrong. Every single
tear drop I let fall, every sob that I cry, is a cry of
pain and yet sorrow of wanting him sill. I know my
friend that you have not loved the way I have loved.
So, you do not know what I am feeling. But I
promise you my friend, crying is as a sweet rose losing
one small petal at a time, bit by bit, and before that
last petal falls screaming out with a screntious yell for
help.
