Bulgarian Love Quotes

We've searched our database for all the quotes and captions related to Bulgarian Love. Here they are! All 38 of them:

Тая любов на шега излезе най-голямата истина в живота ми! Защо трябва винаги да бъдем сериозни, непогрешими и скучни като пътни указатели? Хора, сърцето ви е домашно куче, свикнало с късия синджир и кошарата.
Blaga Dimitrova (Отклонение)
Такава е човешката душа, понякога като пламъче на свещ и угасва от най-леко подухване, понякога пък не ще я съкруши и най-лютата болка, такова е и човешкото сърце, не престава да тупти, докато има в него макар и само една искрица живот!Такъв е духът човешки, минава през вода и най-силен огън.
Димитър Талев (Самуил: Погибел)
Да се чувстваш нужен. Въпреки всичко. Да бързаш занякъде, да носиш нещо, да вярваш, че те чакат, че без тебе не могат, че се взират в далечината идеш ли. Да изненадаш света с някакво откритие. Но аз нищо не носех освен едно опетнено име. Никой не ме чакаше, никой не гледаше жадно към пътя, да се задам, не броеше минутите. Скоростта, с която летях, се превърна в сух, безплоден вятър. Скорост, скорост към нищото,опустошителна като суховей. Целият ти досегашен живот пробягва мълнийно пред очите ти. Искаш да се вкопчиш в нещо, да се задържиш на ръба на пропастта. Не е възможно да бъдеш излишен на тоя свят. И последният човек е нужен някъде, някому, за нещо.
Blaga Dimitrova (Пътуване към себе си)
...самотните вечери на мъжа могат да бъдат приспани в женски устни...
Radostina A. Angelova (Виенски апартамент)
Противоположностите може и да се привличат, но когато имаме само тях, то какво ни събира?
Блага Димитрова (Отклонение)
Войнта бе далеч - някъде на юг и на север, - ала тя се усещаше в смълчаната печал, легналата над страната, във войнишката молитва, дори в горещата, бездъхна августовска нощ. Нещо липсваше, за да бъде всичко естествено и спокойно - липсваха мъжете, младежите, липсваше самата младост.
Емилиян Станев
Никога не е било лесно. Но колкото повече остаряваш, толкова повече болката изглежда се увеличава. Като си млад – болка има само при раздялата. С възрастта болката се появява май още с влюбването – заради хилядите въпроси „за“ и „против“, заради неспособността да загърбиш рационалното и да се оставиш само на течението. Имаш вече какво да губиш – понякога семейство, понякога кариера, власт, пари, авторитет... все неща, към които си се стремял, преследвал си ги. А и в крайна сметка вътре в себе си знаеш, че пак ще се стигне до раздяла, която започваш да преживяваш едва ли не от самото начало.
Radostina A. Angelova (Обратната страна)
My mother loved to quote an old Bulgarian proverb: I don’t care if I’m okay, as long as the neighbor isn’t.
Daniela Petrova (Her Daughter's Mother)
You may be gone, yet here you are found, in the roses, in each morning, every new sound, since reminds me everything of us, “I love you…” I would say to you out loud - this I trust…
Will Advise (На чист Български...: Pristine Bulgarian sayings...)
Връзката между мъжа и жената поради това различие въввътрешното им време е трагична, почти абсурдна. Сигналите, които мъжът изпраща на жената, са обратни на тия, които жената възприема. "Ела!" - вика той и това значи буквално "сега" , а аз разбирам "завинаги". "Почакай!" - шепне той и това значи буквално "за тоя миг", а аз разбирам "за всички следващи мигове". "Отивам си" - казва погледът му и това значи "засега", а аз изтръпвам от ужас да не би да е завинаги
Blaga Dimitrova (Пътуване към себе си)
Love you not deeply?" "Oh yes," answered he; "I deeply love Miss Cunegonde." "No," said one of the gentlemen, "we ask you if you do not deeply love the King of the Bulgarians?" "Not at all," said he; "for I have never seen him." "What! he is the best of kings, and we must drink his health." "Oh! very willingly, gentlemen," and he drank. "That is enough," they tell him. "Now you are the help, the support, the defender, the hero of the Bulgarians. Your fortune is made, and your glory is assured." Instantly they fettered him, and carried him away to the regiment.
Voltaire (Candide)
Неспособността да се доверява на другия беше основен недостатък в характера му, наследен от неговия баща, той му бе предаден по кръвен път. Ако Лорна казва истината, естествено, че ще го мрази за разпита му, но как да бъде сигурен? Незнанието го побъркваше и изкарваше на бял свят чудовището в него.
Andrew Porter (In Between Days)
Любовта е като планина, Габриела. Когато си стигнал по средата на една планина и ти е много трудно да продължиш нататък, трябва да се разсееш с нещо, с нещо наистина хубаво, защото иначе няма да намериш сили да стигнеш върха. Ти искаше от мен да сляза от планината и да започна това, което вече съм преминал, отначало.
Диана Петрова (Деветте кръга)
Когато е влюбен, мъжът, дори да не е бил никога рибар, хвърля въдица. Закача на нея собственото си желание, слага за всеки случай щипка искреност и неизменно оставя дъх на мускус. После замята. Понякога жената, към която е насочено цялото това усилие, долавя стръвта. Друг път я вижда, но се прави, че я няма. Случва се на кукичката да се хване съвсем различна риба, неочаквана и със сигурност изненадваща за рибаря. Мъжът обаче е упорит. Мъжът и милионите мъже преди него, които са скрили последния си дъх в костите му, са изкусни в този занаят - чакането. Майсторството им е филигранно. Нали така са предавали гените си ден след ден, век след век…
Radostina A. Angelova (Афиши в огледалото)
В Раджа се криеше някакво безпристрастие, някакво вътрешно спокойствие, което очевидно привличаше другите хора. Имаше много повече приятели от нея, но не полагаше никакви усилия 24 да ги опознае. Те се появяваха в стаята му по всяко време 25 на денонощието, искаха да говорят за книги, политика и филми или да му разкажат за личните си проблеми, и бяха толкова много, че за Клоуи си остана загадка защо избра тъкмо нея за своя приятелка. На практика можеше да бъде с всяка жена. Със сигурност – с всяка индийка. Но той избра нея – бяло момиче от предградията на Юга, кошмар за родителите му – индийци.
Andrew Porter (In Between Days)
Защото споделената ласка създава чудеса, може дори да сътвори дъжд.
Radostina A. Angelova (Обратната страна)
She shook her hair in the cool breeze and inhaled, the scents of lavender and rose and jasmine sweet in the lucent air. They passed fields where delicately scented rosa centifolia bushes grew. "How was the rose crop this year?" "Excellent. We had a mild spring and a generous rainfall. Twenty to twenty-five blossoms on every branch. Our rose was indeed the 'queen of the flowers' this year, to quote the Greek poet Sappho." He lifted his chin and peered at her down his nose. "Our rose de mai is expensive, Danieeele, but far superior to others." Laughter bubbled in her throat. "Your Gallic pride is showing, Philippe." He expressed a puff of air between pursed lips. "Bulgaria? Morocco? You can't tell me their roses are better than mine." "Just different," she said with patience. "Moroccan roses have a rich perfume, and Bulgaria's Valley of the Roses produces lovely damascena roses scented with a brilliant tinge of pear.
Jan Moran (Scent of Triumph)
His brain was stubborn at giving house-room to his failings, his humiliations, his self-disgust, his bad decisions. He would like to remember only the things he chose: music, Tanya, Nina, his parents, true and reliable friends, Galya playing with the pig, Maxim imitating a Bulgarian policeman, a beautiful goal, laughter, joy, the love of his young wife. He did remember all those things, but they were often overlaid and intertwined with everything he wanted not to remember. And this impurity, this corruption of memory, tormented him.
Julian Barnes (The Noise of Time)
From every decision, remember I this: one woman there is that I will want for bliss - the woman, which, when she is gone, sad, alas, in my heart she remains, where an open wound was…
Will Advise (На чист Български...: Pristine Bulgarian sayings...)
The dreamer, with love from all his heart, slow to gather clouds will pick the part, clouds, to clean the evening sky, slowly, vexing since away they fly…
Will Advise (На чист Български...: Pristine Bulgarian sayings...)
The answer was always... The question unspoken remains... Now, just for one smile, I'll love you till the end of my days.
Will Advise (На чист Български...: Pristine Bulgarian sayings...)
My grandfather Alexander and my grandmother Shlomit, with my father and his elder brother David, on the other hand, did not go to Palestine even though they were also ardent Zionists: the conditions of life there seemed too Asiatic to them, so they went to Vilna, the capital of Lithuania, and arrived there only in 1933, by which time, as it turned out, anti-Semitism in Vilna had grown to the point of violence against Jewish students. My Uncle David especially was a confirmed European, at a time when, it seems, no one else in Europe was, apart from the members of my family and other Jews like them. Everyone else turns out to have been Pan-Slavic, PanGermanic, or simply Latvian, Bulgarian, Irish, or Slovak patriots. The only Europeans in the whole of Europe in the 1920s and 1930s were the Jews. My father always used to say: In Czechoslovakia there are three nations, the Czechs, the Slovaks, and the Czecho-Slovaks, i.e., the Jews; in Yugoslavia there are Serbs, Croats, Slovenes, and Montenegrines, but, even there, there lives a group of unmistakable Yugoslavs; and even in Stalin’s empire there are Russians, there are Ukrainians, and there are Uzbeks and Chukchis and Tatars, and among them are our brethren, the only real members of a Soviet nation.
Amos Oz (A Tale of Love and Darkness)
When your heart, from chills, is stiff, feint memories, of remembrance will come like a whiff, warm your heart will, they will melt the ice, and again you will feel nice, memories like that a pier constitute, where your ship can rest, where again life is cute, there you can go in all times of need, when it’s hope you need, on your hope you can feed…
Will Advise (На чист Български...: Pristine Bulgarian sayings...)
Should you be gone, I think of others not, my mind in, like a wife, your spot, when you’re here, I feel you close, since one we are, elan of, you just give me dose; when we are together, the world is for us, each-other to gaze at, true rapture feeling, plus; when we’re gone, the world will still be here, love there will still be, yet others with, that’s clear…
Will Advise (На чист Български...: Pristine Bulgarian sayings...)
No more do I carry love sadness in my heart, of my heart one thing is just a part; that to love how you exist, with love I fill each line, unless it’s with twists…
Will Advise (На чист Български...: Pristine Bulgarian sayings...)
Bright blue/green eyes I adore, with me for them admiration I store, yet I have a woman in my life, brightly eyed, that I love, like a wife. I love the sky at early dawn, when ancient sorrow it makes gone, I love the sea, where birds would soar, ever moments with her I adore.
Will Advise (На чист Български...: Pristine Bulgarian sayings...)
Once I went into another Bulgarian village. And one old brute who'd spotted me - he was a village elder - told the others and they surrounded the house I was lodging in. I slipped out onto the balcony and crept from one roof to the next; the moon was up and I jumped from balcony to balcony like a cat. But they saw my shadow, climbed up onto the roofs and started shooting. So what do I do? I dropped down into the yard, and there I found a Bulgarian woman in bed. She stood up in her nightdress, saw me and opened her mouth to shout, but I held out my arms and whispered: "Mercy! Mercy! Don't shout!" and seized her breasts. She went pale and half swooned.' "Come inside," she said in a low voice. "Come in so that we can't be seen ..." 'I went inside, she gripped my hand: "Are you a Greek?" she said. "Yes, Greek. Don't betray me." I took her by the waist. She said not a word. I went to bed with her, and my heart trembled with pleasure. "There, Zorba, you dog," I said to myself, "there's a woman for you; that's what humanity means! What is she? Bulgar? Greek? That's the last thing that matters! She's human, and a human being with a mouth, and breasts, and she can love. Aren't you ashamed of killing? Bah! Swine!" 'That's the way I thought while I was with her, sharing her warmth. BUT DID THAT MAD BITCH, MY COUNTRY, LEAVE ME IN PEACE FOR THAT, DO YOU THINK? I disappeared next morning in the clothes the Bulgar woman gave me. She was a widow. She took her late husband's clothes out of a chest, gave them to me, and she hugged my knees and begged me to come back to her.' 'Yes, yes, I did go back ... the following night. I was a patriot then, of course - a wild beast; I went back with a can of paraffin and set fire to the village. She must have been burnt along with the others, poor wretch. Her name was Ludmilla.' Zorba sighed. He lit a cigarette, took one or two puffs and then threw it away. 'My country, you say? ... You believe all the rubbish your books tell you ... ? Well, I'm the one you should believe. So long as there are countries, man will stay like an animal, a ferocious animal... But I am delivered from all that, God be praised! It's finished for me! What about you?' I didn't answer. I was envious of the man. He had lived with his flesh and blood - fighting, killing, kissing - all that I had tried to learn through pen and ink alone. All the problems I was trying to solve point by point in my solitude and glued to my chair, this man had solved up in the pure air of the mountains with his sword. I closed my eyes, inconsolable.
Nikos Kazantzakis (Zorba the Greek)
Once I had no dreams, yet another there was, a Heavenly wife, that to make mine, I’d pause, yet after she left, without saying goodbye, I can’t be her catcher, of dreams, or in rye…
Will Advise (На чист Български...: Pristine Bulgarian sayings...)
If it’s not immortal, it cannot be love, said the poet, but the people, each know better, how exactly they should swim, in each sea, yet they are fatter, none they hear, advice with full. The way up is easy – you love till the end, and you sing your song, till you can be there, in Heaven, alone.
Will Advise (На чист Български...: Pristine Bulgarian sayings...)
Romance is a game where the smiling would spar, overcoming shells that totally fake are, thinking of how the opposing force feels, even if dating with her can’t be real, the game mainly is delving minds ever slow, from nothing to love getting, not for the show, you need just experience, patience, soft calm, just sometimes to nonchalant be with your palms…
Will Advise (На чист Български...: Pristine Bulgarian sayings...)
When you are in love, you put above yours, without even knowing, the dreams of your man, and thus, without thinking, it seems like a moment, and you’re wife and husband, and life great is then. (dedicated to Grey)
Will Advise (На чист Български...: Pristine Bulgarian sayings...)
When Eternal is your love for me, real will all my dreams, with you, be, since my dream is just one – a bride, to walk with, forever, alone, side by side…
Will Advise (На чист Български...: Pristine Bulgarian sayings...)
Can love be eternal? That is the question. Can it be like spring, or a bird in the sky? To young kids, according, all life bound is by it, and things like the sky, or the mountains, or sea. If you ask the old folk, if they still with others talk, even if their hearts hold winter, love is there, they still are with her. Loving is to be. Dreams are all that’s left, agree.
Will Advise (На чист Български...: Pristine Bulgarian sayings...)
Always - an eternal road… Always ours is the world… Always always is a new road… Always is for love a word… Always forests will be calm… Always hearts will love - a psalm… Always they will run - hearts never stop… Always the eternal mountain path they top…
Will Advise (На чист Български...: Pristine Bulgarian sayings...)
— Знаеш ли какво най-много ми липсва? — попита тя. — Какво? — Да мога да погледна знамето и да изпитам гордост.
Richard Bach (The Bridge Across Forever: A True Love Story)
Men traveling alone develop a romantic vertigo. Bech had already fallen in love with a freckled embassy wife in Russia, a buck-toothed chanteuse in Rumania, a stolid Mongolian sculptress in Kazakhstan. In the Tretyakov Gallery he had fallen in love with a recumbent statue, and at the Moscow Ballet School with an entire roomful of girls. Entering the room, he had been struck by the aroma, tenderly acrid, of young female sweat. Sixteen and seventeen, wearing patchy practice suits, the girls were twirling so strenuously their slippers were unraveling. Demure student faces crowned the unconscious insolence of their bodies. The room was doubled in depth by a floor-to-ceiling mirror. Bech was seated on a bench at its base. Staring above his head, each girl watched herself with frowning eyes frozen, for an instant in the turn, by the imperious delay and snap of her head. Bech tried to remember the lines of Rilke that expressed it, this snap and delay: did not the drawing remain/that the dark stroke of your eyebrow/swiftly wrote on the wall of its own turning? At one point the teacher, a shapeless old Ukrainian lady with gold canines, a prima of the thirties, had arisen and cried something translated to Bech as, “No, no, the arms free, free!” And in demonstration she had executed a rapid series of pirouettes with such proud effortlessness that all the girls, standing this way and that like deer along the wall, had applauded. Bech had loved them for that. In all his loves, there was an urge to rescue—to rescue the girls from the slavery of their exertions, the statue from the cold grip of its own marble, the embassy wife from her boring and unctuous husband, the chanteuse from her nightly humiliation (she could not sing), the Mongolian from her stolid race. But the Bulgarian poetess presented herself to him as needing nothing, as being complete, poised, satisfied, achieved. He was aroused and curious and, the next day, inquired about her of the man with the vaguely contemptuous mouth of a hare—a novelist turned playwright and scenarist, who accompanied him to the Rila Monastery. “She lives to write,” the playwright said. “I do not think it is healthy.
John Updike (Bech: A Book)
Допреди седмица аз бях Франция. Бях всичко, което хиляди хора по света мислят и чувстват за нея. Копнеех за любов и вярвах, че съм открила мъжа, който да ми я дари.
Диана Петрова (Деветте кръга)
The opinions expressed by outsiders about these Christian congregations, both in Asia Minor and in Bulgaria, vary greatly, for while it was usual to speak of them and their doctrine as being indescribably wicked, there were those who judged differently. The earliest writers appear to have written more as partisans than as historians. They accuse the “heretics” of practising vile and unnatural fleshly sins, repeat from hearsay what was current about them and include much from Mani and from what was written against him. The writer Euthymius (died after 1118), says: “They bid those who listen to their doctrines to keep the commandments of the Gospel, and to be meek and merciful and of brotherly love. Thus they entice men on by teaching all good things and useful doctrines, but they poison by degrees and draw to perdition.” Cosmas, a Bulgarian Presbyter, writing at the end of the tenth century, describes Bogomils as “worse and more horrible than demons”, denies their belief in the Old Testament or the Gospels, says they pay no honour to the Mother of God nor to the cross, they revile the ceremonies of the Church and all Church dignitaries, call orthodox priests “blind Pharisees”, say that the Lord’s Supper is not kept according to God’s commandment, and that the bread is not the body of God, but ordinary bread. He attributes their asceticism to their belief that the Devil created all material things and says: “You will see heretics quiet and peaceful as lambs… wan with hypocritical fasting, who do not speak much nor laugh loud”, and again, “when men see their lowly behaviour, they think that they are of true belief; they approach them therefore and consult them about their soul’s health. But they, like wolves that will swallow up a lamb, bow their head, sigh, and answer full of humility, and set themselves up as if they knew how it is ordered in heaven.
E.H. Broadbent (The Pilgrim Church)