Dave Navarro Quotes

Love is getting to be cynical, passion's just physical.

under our love making I felt a bleakness that couldnt be dispelled. The sadness was in both of us, and I think we pitied ourselves that night, as if we were other people looking down on the couple who lay together on the bed

As the possibility of a relationship had faded, Emma had endeavored to harden herself to Dexter's indifference and these days a remark like this caused no more pain than, say, a tennis ball thrown sharply at the back of her head.

My love is thaw'd; Which, like a waxen image 'gainst a fire, bears no impression of the thing it was

Then he made one last effort to search in his heart for the place where his affection had rotted away, and he could not find it.

For a long time visits among lovers and professions of love are kept up through habit, after their behavior has plainly proved that love no longer exists.

Love dries up, I thought as I walked back to the bathroom, even faster than sperm.

I think that the inability to love is the central problem, because that inability masks a certain terror, and that terror is the terror of being touched. And if you can't be touched, you can't be changed. And if you can't be changed, you can't be alive.

A deadness occurs in relationships when people are no longer willing to tell each other how they really feel.

How could people, I wondered for the ten thousandth useless time, how could people who had loved so dearly come to such a wilderness; and yet the change in us was irreversible, and neither of us would even search for a way back. It was impossible. The fire was out. Only a few live coals lurked in the ashes, searing unexpectedly at the incautious touch.

If you have given up your heart ... you have already lost. A heartless creature is a loveless creature, and a loveless creature is a beast.

He did not fail in love, but he lost the joy of it [...]

When I'm lovin' these hoes, there ain't no love involved.

I didn’t want to be prideful anymore. I wanted to be as hard as and brittle as the stones I carted into the woods. Stones that could not feel or cry or see. I wished not to feel anything at all. In no time, what I wished for, I became.

No one is more conventional than a woman who is falling out of love.

Love is bullshit. Emotion is bullshit. I am a rock. A jerk. I'm an uncaring asshole and proud of it.

Marriage is the cold potato of love.

To cease to love -- that is defeat.

It is very hard to be in love with someone who no longer loves you, but it is far worse to be loved by someone with whom you are no longer in love.

He is not affected by the reality of distress touching his heart, but by the showy resemblance of it striking his imagination. He pities the plumage, but forgets the dying bird.

After the briskness of loving, loving stops. And you roll over with death stretched out alongside you like a feather boa, or a snake, light as air, and you... you don't even ask for anything or try to say something to him because it's obviously your own damn fault. You haven't been able to- to what? To open your heart. You open your legs but can't, or don't dare anymore, to open your heart.

Once you've stopped loving someone breaking his or her heart's just an unpleasant chore you have to get behind you. My God, you really don't love me anymore, do you? No matter your decency the victim's incredulity's potentially hilarious. You manage not to laugh.

‎Keep your love, I have no use for it anymore.