I love when I reach Marcus on the phone and as he says hello, I can hear the music he's listening to in the background. That music is the sound of him without me. How he surrounds himself when I'm not there, which is almost all the time.
i carry your heart with me(i carry it in my heart)
Love knows not distance; it hath no continent; its eyes are for the stars.
Waiting is painful. Forgetting is painful. But not knowing which to do is the worse kind of suffering.
I fell in love with her when we were together, then fell deeper in love with her in the years we were apart.
Distance makes the heart grow fonder.
Distance does not break off the friendship absolutely, but only the activity of it.
The simple lack of her is more to me than others' presence.
I have found the paradox, that if you love until it hurts, there can be no more hurt, only more love.
Odd how much it hurts when a friend moves away- and leaves behind only silence.
This is the sad bed of chosen chastity because you are miles and mountains away.
If you listen to the wind very carefully, you'll be able to hear me whisper my love for you.
Things must be felt with the heart.
The best and most beautiful things in the world cannot be seen or even touched - they must be felt with the heart.
And ever has it been known that love knows not its own depth until the hour of separation.
The pain of parting is nothing to the joy of meeting again.
The way to love anything is to realize that it may be lost.
Our hours in love have wings; in absence, crutches.
Some women love only what they can hold in their arms; others, only what they can't.
I'll never see them again. I know that. And they know that. And knowing this, we say farewell.
Obviously, a long-distance relationship is hard. But, like anything worth having, you make it work.
Unfortunately, I'm more experienced than I care to admit on long-distance relationships. Just because that is my life. I travel because I love to. As a result, I have to sort of make it work when a relationship kind of comes into view.
If you press me to say why I loved him, I can say no more than it was because he was he, and I was I.
And one by one the nights between our separated cities are joined to the night that unites us.
I imagine a line, a white line, painted on the sand and on the ocean, from me to you.
Follow AzQuotes on Facebook, Twitter and Google+. Every day we present the best quotes! Improve yourself, find your inspiration, share with friends