Best 18 quotes in «old love quotes» category

Much ado there was, God wot; He woold love, and she woold not, She sayd, "Never man was trewe;" He sayes, "None was false to you.

If you must reread old love letters, better pick a room without mirrors.

Is it possible that love should of a sudden take such a hold?

Keep your old love letters. Throw away your old bank statements.

Villanelle for my valentine Old love, I thought I'd never see the time because of all we've done and often said when I'd be yours, my dear, and you'd be mine. And what relief to soften, and resign the battle of the heart over the head. old love, I thought I'd never see the time when qualms and cold feet that could undermine all we've held out for, dissipate instead now that I'm yours, my dear and you are mine. I'm still amazed how our two lives align the two of us! A pair! Take it as read, old love, I thought I'd never see the time The tangle of our jumpers in the line, the battle for the blankets in our bed confirm that I am yours, and you are mine. So then, this is my pledge, my valentine: my hand's in yours for all that lies ahead. Oh love, there's never been a better time now that I'm yours, and finally, you're mine.

I love thee, I love but thee, With a love that shall not die.

The purpose of a relationship is to decide what part of yourself you'd like to see 'show up', not what part of another you can capture and hold.

The closer and more confidential our relationship with someone, the less we are entitled to ask about what we are not voluntarily told.

Think of one person who you are tempted for any reason to withhold love from, and pray for their happiness. In that moment your pain will stop.

My merry, merry, merry roundelay Concludes with Cupid's curse, They that do change old love for new, Pray gods, they change for worse!

Young love is so ridiculous, as is middle-aged and old love. And it's also hilarious. When have you ever felt so vulnerable and wonderful and terrible at the same time?

Upon your shattered ruins where, This vine will flourish still, as rare, As fresh, as fragrant as of old. Love will not crumble.

And then I realized that love is like a helium balloon. You know the one which flies away into the sky if you don’t hold it by its strings? No matter how much I tried to break my string, the balloon always remained there. Know why? Because maybe unknown to yourself, you were holding a couple of strings as well

It’s a ground floor apartment in the old part of Hadport. I don’t see much of Mrs. Zarnac, who lives upstairs. Lonely-looking older men visit her, And when she cooks for them vinegar smells waft down. Crosses my mind he might be pickling them alive, one after another, for some dark embalming project.

I have an idea that this is what enduring love really means. Your memories of a girl at seventeen become as real and vivid as the middle-aged woman sitting in front of you. It is a happy sort of double vision, this seeing and remembering. To be seen this way is to be known.

Og jeg var så kjær i ham, å hele verden blev borte når han kom. Jeg husker en mand som kunde komme gående! Han hadde fuldskjæg, han var som et dyr, han stanset iblandt og holdt den ene fot oppe og lyttet, så gik han videre. Han brukte også skindklær.

Maybe she'd ended up going to Ireland because whilst visiting her father she'd bumped into an old love from her youth, perhaps even her ex? Such spontaneous acts really only worked with men left over from earlier in your life.

She's finding it hard to cope - her hopes have been dashed, the future she dreamed about has gone and she's scared about that. There's nothing in its place. She wants you back. She doesn't want to let go of everything it meant to her.  Because the world seems horribly big and empty. Because the future is a very frightening concept when you'd previously planned on sharing it with someone. Because she's a girl, she's a romantic and she fears if she lets  go of her dream, she'll live a nightmare. Because she has a hope and she fears if she lets her hope go, who will she be? The effort, the pain of clinging on is preferable to the wide-open fear of letting go.