Destructive Love Quotes

The things we love destroy us every time, lad. Remember that.

He knew that all things human are transitory and therefore that it must cease one day or another. He looked forward to that day with eager longing. Love was like a parasite in his heart, nourishing a hateful existence on his life's blood; it absorbed his existence so intensely that he could take pleasure in nothing else.

Yet each man kills the thing he loves, By each let this be heard, Some do it with a bitter look, Some with a flattering word, The coward does it with a kiss, The brave man with a sword! Some kill their love when they are young, And some when they are old; Some strangle with the hands of Lust, Some with the hands of Gold: The kindest use a knife, because The dead so soon grow cold. Some love too little, some too long, Some sell, and others buy; Some do the deed with many tears, And some without a sigh: For each man kills the thing he loves, Yet each man does not die.

I love you as one loves certain dark things.

I looked and looked at her, and I knew, as clearly as I know that I will die, that I loved her more than anything I had ever seen or imagined on earth. She was only the dead-leaf echo of the nymphet from long ago - but I loved her, this Lolita, pale and polluted and big with another man's child. She could fade and wither - I didn't care. I would still go mad with tenderness at the mere sight of her face.

To love someone is to isolate him from the world, wipe out every trace of him, dispossess him of his shadow, drag him into a murderous future. It is to circle around the other like a dead star and absorb him into a black light.

Underneath it all, you longed to be annihilated by love.

It's the things we love most that destroy us.

Yet each man kills the thing he loves By each let this be heard Some do it with a bitter look Some with a flattering word The coward does it with a kiss The brave man with a sword

In the beginning war looks and feels like love. But unlike love it gives nothing in return but an ever-deepening dependence, like all narcotics, on the road to self-destruction. It does not affirm but places upon us greater and greater demands. It destroys the outside world until it is hard to live outside war's grip. It takes a higher and higher dose to achieve any thrill. Finally, one ingests war only to remain numb.

I think that sometimes love gets in the way of itself - you know, love interrupts itself. We want things so much that we sabotage them.

If we are to judge of love by its consequences, it more nearly resembles hatred than friendship.

I do not love men: I love what devours them.

They love too much that die for love.

Marina sighs. "Love's a tidal wave," she says. "Because it sweeps you off your feet?" I ask. "No. Because it sucks you under and you drown.

Forgive me... for my love -for ruining you with my love.

As far as love is concerned, possession, power, fusion and disenchantment are the Four Horsemen of the Apocalypse.

You're brilliant,"he says."But you're a fool to stay with someone like me." I close my eyes at the touch of his hand."Then we are both fools.

When you loved the one who was killing you, it left you no options." -Bella

Destruction is a true sign of devotion. As I always tell my girlfriend when she threatens to kill me. 'You should kill me and it would tell me that you love me.

True love, it's like an illness. I never understood it before. In books and plays. Poems. I never understood what drove otherwise intelligent, right-thinking people to do such extravagant, irrational things. Now I do. It's an illness. You can catch it when you least expect. There's no known cure. And sometimes, in its most extreme, it's fatal.

I'm drawn to bad romances.

He killed them with their love.

The notion of love as a potentially destructive and potentially redemptive human force is something that comes across in all my books.