thelovejournals

Literary Love Confessions for the Brokenhearted & Soul in Love

It is three at night. I have something to say. You are so valuable. You shine out. You are a magic star. You are a body of blood made beautiful. How I admire, sit back and adore you. How thirsty I am for that. How you feed me.
—— Anne Sexton, Letter to Lois Ames, 11 Jan. 1969
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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.
—— Vladimir Nabokov
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The very first moment I beheld him, my heart was irrevocably gone.
—— Jane Austen, Love and Friendship
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Understand, I’ll slip quietly away from the noisy crowd when I see the pale stars rising, blooming, over the oaks. I’ll pursue solitary pathways through the pale twilit meadows, with only this one dream: You come too.
—— Rainer Maria Rilke
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You belong to me, I have made you mine. I have fought for you within myself, from the beginning, and always anew, and perhaps forever.
—— Franz Kafka, Letters to Felice
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I belong to you; there is really no other way of expressing it, and that is not strong enough.
—— Franz Kafka, Letters to Felice
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There may be more beautiful times, but this one is ours.
—— Jean-Paul Sartre
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I am your moon and your moonlight too
I am your flower garden and your water too
I have come all this way, eager for you
Without shoes or shawl
I want you to laugh
To kill all your worries
To love you
To nourish you.
—— Rumi
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Know the lift of your heel,
the glide of your foot.

Become familiar with the way
you purse your lips
then let them part,
just the slightest bit,
when I lean in to your space
and kiss you.

I want to know the joy
of how you whisper
‘more’

—— Rumi

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Now a soft kiss - Aye, by that kiss, I vow an endless bliss.
—— John Keats

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…Well, now,
if little by little you stop loving me
I shall stop loving you little by little.
If suddenly
you forget me
do not look for me,
for I shall already have forgotten you.

If you think it long and mad,
the wind of banners
that passes through my life,
and you decide
to leave me at the shore
of the heart where I have roots,
remember
that on that day,
at that hour,
I shall lift my arms
and my roots will set off
to seek another land…

—— Pablo Neurda, If You Forget Me
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There came a time when you realized that moving on was pointless. That you took yourself with you wherever you went.
—— Stephen King, Doctor Sleep
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No, I said. I didn’t remember that. There was so much to remember, sometimes the best thing was to forget.
——

Joyce 

Maynard,

Labor Day

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After a while you learn the subtle difference
Between holding a hand and chaining a soul,

And you learn that love doesn’t mean leaning
And company doesn’t mean security.

And you begin to learn that kisses aren’t contracts
And presents aren’t promises,

And you begin to accept your defeats
With your head up and your eyes open
With the grace of a woman, not the grief of a child,

And you learn to build all your roads on today
Because tomorrow’s ground is too uncertain for plans
And futures have a way of falling down in mid-flight.

After a while you learn…
That even sunshine burns if you get too much.

So you plant your garden and decorate your own soul,
Instead of waiting for someone to bring you flowers.

And you learn that you really can endure…

That you really are strong

And you really do have worth…

And you learn and learn…

With every good-bye you learn.

—— Jorge Luis Borges, You Learn
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I love you without knowing how, or when, or from where.
I love you straightforwardly, without complexities or pride;
so I love you because I know no other way than this:

where I does not exist, nor you,
so close that your hand on my chest is my hand,
so close that your eyes close as I fall asleep.

—— Pablo Neruda, excerpt from Sonnet XVII (I Do Not Love You…)
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My sweet girl,

Your Letter gave me more delight, than any thing in the world but yourself could do; indeed I am almost astonished that any absent one should have that luxurious power over my senses which I feel. Even when I am not thinking of you I receive your influence and a tenderer nature steeling upon me. All my thoughts, my unhappiest days and nights have I find not at all cured me of my love of Beauty, but made it so intense that I am miserable that you are not with me: or rather breathe in that dull sort of patience that cannot be called Life. I never knew before, what such a love as you have made me feel, was; I did not believe in it…

Ever yours, my love!
John Keats.

—— John Keats, To Fanny Brawne, dated July 8th, 1819  
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The past can’t be changed, can it? But it can be forgiven….
—— Elizabeth George
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Put your hands on my knees, she said, and think of me as a book you’ve been dying to read.
—— Michael Faudet, Dirty Pretty Things
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Only the united beat of s** and heart together can create ecstasy.
—— Anaïs Nin, Delta of Venus
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Let’s continue this conversation in bed, she whispered, my legs can’t wait to hear what your hands have to say.
—— Michael Faudet
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