Giacomo Casanova Quotes

Love is a fever," she said. "And when you come out of it you'll discover whether you've been lucky - or not.

Joscelin, is love supposed to make you feel like you’re sick and dying, and mad enough to hit someone and drunk with joy, and your heart’s a boulder n your chest trying to burst into a thousand pieces all at once?” “Mm-hmm.” He finished his ale. “That would be love.

You hear people sing songs about when they really can't stand anyone anymore or you hear people sing songs about when they really love someone and they really love them.

It's either love or hate with me. People really can hate me.

I was in love, and the feeling was even more wonderful than I ever imagined it could be.

I am so in love with you that there isn’t anything else.

Sometimes love is calm and easy and sometimes it's just plain dirty.

His eyes look too bright, the way the do in people who are in love, people who are enraged, and people who are completely bonkers.

What is love without passion? - A garden without flowers, a hat without feathers, tobogganing without snow.

You know what I am going to say. I love you. What other men may mean when they use that expression, I cannot tell; what I mean is, that I am under the influence of some tremendous attraction which I have resisted in vain, and which overmasters me.

I love you. It hurts more than anything ever has, but I do. So don't you dare tell me I don't. Don't you ever say it again!

I never believed in love at first sight, until I met Derek. It's all-consuming and delicious and wonderful and exciting. At the same time, it makes me nervous and self-conscious and emotional. Love exists. I know it does, because I'm madly, deeply, hopelessly in love.

I had fallen too far. I was in love with Rush Finlay.

I wanted to tell you that my whole being opened for you. Since I fell in love with you everything is transformed and is full of beauty... love is like an aroma, like a current, like rain.

My love runs by like a day in June, And he makes no friends of sorrows. He'll tread his galloping rigadoon In the pathway of the morrows. He'll live his days where the sunbeams start, Nor could storm or wind uproot him. My own dear love, he is all my heart, -- And I wish somebody'd shoot him.

Hot hate is twin brother to hot love.

This thing called love was a total mystery to me, but the vagaries of passion and despair that accompanied each devotion kept my life in high drama.

You know what they're writing about Baby you know what they're writing about It's a thing called love down through the ages Makes you wanna cry sometimes Makes you feel like you wanna lay down and die sometimes Makes you high sometimes But when you really get in it lifts you right up.

Love, they say, enslaves and passion is a demon and many have been lost for love. I know this is true, but I know too that without love we grope the tunnels of our lives and never see the sun. When I fell in love it was as though I looked into a mirror for the first time and saw myself. I lifted my hand in bewilderment and felt my cheeks, my neck. This was me. And when I had looked at myself and grown accustomed to who I was, I was not afraid to hate parts of me because I wanted to be worthy of the mirror bearer.

How love the limb-loosener sweeps me away

The passion is my favorite part of the city [Philadelphia]. You go from 'we love you' to 'we hate you' back to 'you walk on water.' You're driving, and somebody might wave or somebody might flip you off.

The expedition of my violent love outrun the pauser, reason.

You could be in the gutter and fall in love with someone, and you feel great. That's my honest opinion. I've witnessed both sides of that fence and being in love is where it's at.

What could be more serious than the love of man for woman, what more commanding, more impressive, bearing in its bosom the seeds of death; at the same time these lovers, these people entering into illusion glittering eyed, must be danced round with mockery, decorated with garlands.

My God, I'm so in love with my boyfriend.