The future for me is already a thing of the past - You were my first love and you will be my last
Falling in love is very real, but I used to shake my head when people talked about soul mates, poor deluded individuals grasping at some supernatural ideal not intended for mortals but sounded pretty in a poetry book. Then, we met, and everything changed, the cynic has become the converted, the sceptic, an ardent zealot.
You remember your first love because they show you, prove to you, that you can love and be loved, that nothing in this world is deserved except for love, that love is both how you become a person and why.
Love, like everything else in life, should be a discovery, an adventure, and like most adventures, you don’t know you’re having one until you’re right in the middle of it.
No, this trick won't work... How on earth are you ever going to explain in terms of chemistry and physics so important a biological phenomenon as first love?
The first stab of love is like a sunset, a blaze of color -- oranges, pearly pinks, vibrant purples...
He smiles at me, and I am suddenly seventeen again - the year I realize that love doesn't follow the rules, the year I understood that nothing is worth having so much as something unattainable
A man is lucky if he is the first love of a woman. A woman is lucky if she is the last love of a man.
That first love. And the first one who breaks your heart. For me, they just happen to be the same person.
While she could hardly fathom what had just happened to her that night, she reached some conclusions before she fell asleep, certain things now made perfect sense; Moon River didn’t sound so syrupy, mistletoe wasn’t such a bad idea, and perhaps dating was not such a frivolous waste of time after all.
The paradox of love is that to have it is to want to preserve it because it's perfect in the moment but that preservation is impossible because the perfection is only ever an instant passed through. Love like travel is a series of moments that we immediately leave behind. Still we try to hold on and embalm against all evidence and common sense proclaiming our promises and plans. The more I loved him the more I felt hope. But hope acknowledges uncertainty and so I also felt my first premonitions of loss.
Love me like Saturday night, like three glasses of champagne, like the room is spinning, like you're drunk on my love.
Lips that have tasted the salt of tears always give the sweetest kiss.
One spirit remained unaware of his presence, staring at Miss Parker with such longing that he reluctantly decided to let it stay. The spirit, a hollow-eyed girl with ringlets and clothing from long past, reached toward Percy, wishing to touch her. Alexi understood. When left to her own devices, Miss Parker was neither shy nor awkward; she was radiant.
... you’ll have to fall in love at least once in your life, or Paris has failed to rub off on you.
Love, like Fortune, favours the bold.
Maybe that was just the way love went—it was something that happened *to* you, and the best preparation you could hope for was the chance to take a deep breath before the wave of it crashed above you and you were in over your head.
Everywhere I go, you catch up to me. Everywhere I run, I keep seeing you. Every time, you happen to me, all over again.
The Flight Look back with longing eyes and know that I will follow, Lift me up in your love as a light wind lifts a swallow, Let our flight be far in sun or blowing rain-- But what if I heard my first love calling me again? Hold me on your heart as the brave sea holds the foam, Take me far away to the hills that hide your home; Peace shall thatch the roof and love shall latch the door-- But what if I heard my first love calling me once more?
Les enfants qui s'aiment s'embrassent debout Contre les portes de la nuit Et les passants qui passent les désignent du doigt Mais les enfants qui s'aiment Ne sont là pour personne Et c'est seulement leur ombre Qui tremble dans la nuit Excitant la rage des passants Leur rage, leur mépris, leurs rires et leur envie Les enfants qui s'aiment ne sont là pour personne Ils sont ailleurs bien plus loin que la nuit Bien plus haut que le jour Dans l'éblouissante clarté de leur premier amour