Don't Fall in Love with a Dreamer
You know you're in love when you can't fall asleep because reality is finally better than your dreams.
Love doesn't just sit there, like a stone; it has to be made, like bread, remade all the time, made new.
Don't settle for a relationship that won't let you be yourself.
Don't forget I'm just a girl, standing in front of a boy, asking him to love her.
The minute I heard my first love story, I started looking for you, not knowing how blind that was. Lovers don't finally meet somewhere. They're in each other all along.
Lovers don't finally meet somewhere. They're in each other all along.
Don't fall in love with someone you can live with, fall in love with someone you can't live without.
You can never control who you fall in love with, even when you're in the most sad, confused time of your life. You don't fall in love with people because they're fun. It just happens.
Don't Fall in love, Rise in Love!
I think that one of the things that you do learn is that falling in love and being in love with someone is a rarity. That you don't fall in love as many times as you think you're going to. And then when you do, it's really special; it's really important.
Don't fall in love with politicians, they're all a disappointment. They can't help it, they just are.
I don't fall in love anymore. Just like I don't get the mumps.
People don't fall in love so easily. So they don't hate so easily, either.
I seem fated to pass through the world without colliding with it or moving it — and I'm sure I can't tell you whether the fate's good or evil. I don't die — I don't fall in love. And if other people die or fall in love they always do it when I'm just not there.
Falling in love has been greatly overrated. Falling in love consists of 45 percent fear of not being accepted, 45 percent manic hope that this time the fear will be put to shame and a modest 10 percent frail awareness of the possibility of love. I don't fall in love any more. Just like I don't get the mumps.
Did you fall in love with her?" "I care about her. A lot." "You're not supposed to marry someone if you don't fall in love with her." "Well, love is a choice, too." Holly shook her head. "I think it's something that happens to you." Mark smiled into her small, earnest face. "Maybe it's both," he said, and tucked her in.
It had not seemed to matter that Rose was only eight years old. "More than eight," said Rose. "Nearly nine." "Darling Rose, even almost nearly nine-year-old's don't fall in love," said forgetful Caddy. Caddy tried very hard to comfort Rose when Tom had left. It was not an easy job. It was like trying to comfort a small, unhappy tiger. "Who said anything about falling in love?" growled Rose crossly. "Falling! Falling is by accident! I didn't fall in anything!" "Oh. Right. Sorry, Posy Rose." "And I am definitely not in love!
Bodies count, of course - they count more than we're willing to admit - but we don't fall in love with bodies, we fall in love with each other. We all know that, but the moment we go beyond a catalogue of surface qualities and appearances, words begin to fail us, to crumble apart in mystical confusions and cloudy, unsubstantial metaphors.
Love attacks. It sneaks up like a pride of lions or a pack of hyenas and eats your heart out while you watch. Love is the bully on the playground who takes your lunch money and gives you a black eye in return, the arsonist who burns your house down with you in it, the witch who lures you into her home with candy and boils you alive for dinner. Love is raw, and violent, and instantaneous. You don’t fall in love; you get trampled by it.
or simply:
