F Scott Fitzgerald Quotes On Love Novels & Stories

I wondered, my mind unraveling the complexities of my emotions. The clasped hands seemed like a fortress, guarding against the vulnerability I yearned to express. “All good,” I nodded at him. And the girl has the nerve to smile at me. In any other circumstances, I would have found it pretty, but not today, though. "Love, a potent word entwined with the unity of a single soul spanning two bodies. Some endure an eternity yearning for a mere ounce of affection, while others bask in its abundance, indifferent. Gazing at mate, I lamented, 'We often fail to grasp the value of what we possess until it slips through our fingers.”

“Sophia and I are committed to building a strong foundation. I love her more than anything, and I want to give her the best life possible.” Thompson smiled, his gaze softening. “I know you do, Fabio. And I see that love in both of you. But love, as you know, is not always easy. It requires patience, understanding, and a willingness to face challenges together.” He paused, then quoted softly, “’Love is not love which alters when it alteration finds, or bends with the remover to remove: O no! it is an ever-fixed mark that looks on tempests and is never shaken.’” He looked at Fabio, his eyes full of meaning. “Shakespeare knew a thing or two about love.”

He chuckled, "I'm romanticizing you because you deserve to hear beautiful things, and Rumi had taken all the right words out of me ... I think I'm a few hundred years too late to be a poet." It made her laugh. "Gamble everything for love, if you're a true human being," he quoted. "He didn't say that?" "He did ... reason is powerless in the expression of love," he continued. She was still grinning, his arms were tighter around her keeping her warm from the chill. "These pains you feel are messengers ... listen to them." Her smile started to fade. He wasn't just quoting them randomly, she felt those words were meant for her. "Love comes with a knife, not some shy question, and not with fears o

"I remember those days when love stories held me captive, just as they do to you now." Intrigued, I turned to face her, eager to hear more about her experiences. "Tell me, Freda," I urged, "what is it about love that captivates you? What makes it so beautiful?" Freda's expression softened, and she gazed into the distance, lost in her memories. "Love, my dear Sandra," she began, her voice carrying a gentle nostalgia, "is a force that transcends time and space. It has the power to move mountains and heal the deepest of wounds. It is both delicate and resilient, fragile yet enduring."

When some of the conversations she had been caught up in was fending off men who wished to discuss liaisons for immoral reasons? Aunt Marrily had always said that love was easy to find, and that their family bore the privilege - and the curse - of being taken to it. If it was indeed a curse or a myth that plagued the Fitzgerald family, then she was free of it, for she was not a true Fitzgerald. "A mad woman?" Alexander mused. "Only a mad person could love me?" He paused. "Perhaps it is the reason all who love me are gone from me. Why they always insist to stay from me." His words, despite the slur of alcohol, felt genuine.

Rosita asked, finding Scott's strategy weak. Scott was shaking his head in shameful defeat. "I thought that by playing nice to her, I would be able to capture her love again, but I was wrong. I've been nice to her all this time. No matter how hard I tried, I couldn't force her to love me again. Either she will love me for who I am when I'm with her, or she will never love me again despite all the good things that I did for her. We can't force anyone to love us. Love must come naturally. I learned it the hard way," he said sadly.

He knew he could take you there, and that I, for my part, would only shout across the widening gulf in a language you'd come to fear. The pen inscribed the paper, making its mark. I love you. The words stood alone, naked and unadorned. They weren't crying. They were a fact, naked and barren as a headstone. I love hearing you when you are explaining to me some hard business problem, the way your mind wrangles order out of disorder. I love the substance and gravity of you on this earth. I love the memory of you napping in a chair in the library, a ledger across your knees, full, with exhaustion from building a future for my impossible. I loved our life. I loved the world that we built, the one

"Say it." "I love you," he said, "the same way I said it the first time, badly, in the middle of failing you. Except this time I am not failing you. I am simply sitting in a kitchen that smells like the dry cleaner two floors down, having spent four days as your ally rather than your husband, and I find that the loving hasn't diminished at all in the absence of the marriage's usual architecture. If anything it's gotten plainer. Steadier. I don't need a contract to feel it, Evelyn. I don't need a covenant, or a crisis, or a fire in a grate to spend it by. I simply love you, on an ordinary Tuesday, with nothing at stake in the saying except the truth of it."

His place is packed thanks to you guys. Franz Schubert once said, “Happy is a man who finds a true friend and far happier is he who finds that true friend in his wife.” Somehow I felt like quoting him when I walked down the street, now I don’t have any intention to get married soon but don’t you think marriage is something special and not everyone is lucky to find the right person and also I believe that there is a right time when the god above and the nature gives us the sign to understand our love when he or she stands in front of us.’ I don’t really believe in the myth that sharing a coffee spill with a stranger starts a love story but let me know your thoughts. Key.

Until I met Cedric. I forgot where I read this quote before. I read many romance novels. If I'm not mistaken, the words were like this. Someone else may be your first love, but it doesn't mean they'll be your last. It's possible that your last love is someone so close to you, without you realizing it. Similar to my story with Cedric, right? Ah, I suddenly want to hear his voice. This time, I'm not blaming or dragging Baby into it. It's purely my own feelings.