Colleen Hoover Ugly Love Quotes

God gives us the ugliness so we don’t take the beautiful things in life for granted.

Love isn't always pretty. Sometimes you spend all your time hoping it'll eventually be something different. Something better. Then, before you know it, you're back to square one, and you lost your heart somewhere along the way.

When life gives you lemons, make sure you know whose eyes you need to squeeze them in.

I didn’t fall in love with you… I flew.

Sometimes not speaking says more than all the words in the world.

It's the beautiful moments like this that make up for the ugly love

Some people they grow wiser as they grow older. Unfortunately, most people just grow older.

The pain will always be there. So will the fear. But the pain and fear are no longer my life. They're only moments.

That’s how it is when a person develops an attraction toward someone. He’s nowhere, then suddenly he’s everywhere, whether you want him to be or not.

But the second she opened her eyes and looked at me, I knew. She was either going to be the death of me . . . or she was going to be the one who finally brought me back to life.

Ugly love becomes you. Consumes you. Makes you hate it all. Makes you realize that all the beautiful parts aren't even worth it. Without the beautiful, you'll never risk feeling the ugly. So you give it all up. You give it all up. You never want love again, no matter what kind it is, because no type of love will ever be worth living through the ugly love again.

What rules?” “Well, for one, I’m not allowed to break your heart,” he says. “Second, I’m also not allowed to break your damn heart. And last, I’m not allowed to fucking break your damn heart.

Hearts get infiltrated. Promises get broken. Rules get shattered. Love gets ugly.

If I were capable of loving someone . . . it would be you.

You're looking at me like you fell in love with me." "I didn't fall in love with you. I flew.

The smaller the house, the more a family is forced to love one another.

You make it so hard to breathe.

I know the thought of confronting your past terrifies you.It terrifies every man. But sometimes we don't do it ourselves. We do it for the people we love more than ourselves.

Whoever coined the phrase, I love you to death obviously never experienced the kind of love Tate and I share. If that were the case, the phrase would be I love you to life. Because that’s exactly what Tate did. She loved me back to life.

I suppose if a man lived through the ugliest side of love, he might never want to experience it again.

I’m terrified to lose him for good, so I sell myself short and take what I can from him, even though I know I deserve better.

You deserve so much more than what you're allowing yourself to have.

Listen, Tate. I want your mess. I want your clothes on my bedroom floor. I want your toothbrush in my bathroom. I want your shoes in my closet. I want your mediocre leftovers in my fridge.

There's nothing in the world that compares to the feel and smell of brand-new rain.

It may be a small piece at a time, but my past is yours now. All of it. Anything you want to know, I want to tell you. But only if you promise me I can also have your future.

If you love me more today than you loved me yesterday, then I can’t wait for tomorrow,” she says.

Love isn’t always pretty, Tate. Sometimes you spend all your time hoping it’ll eventually be something different. Something better. Then, before you know it, you’re back to square one, and you lost your heart somewhere along the way.

He’s everywhere. Everything is Miles. That’s how it is when a person develops an attraction toward someone. He’s nowhere, then suddenly he’s everywhere, whether you want him to be or not.

She’s like poetry. Like prose and love letters and lyrics, cascading down the center of a page.

Don't ask about my past. And never expect a future.

I send the picture in a message to Ian that says, "She's gonna have all my babies.

Sometimes not speaking says more than all the words in the world. Sometimes my silence is saying, I don't know how to speak to you. I don't know what you're thinking. Talk to me. Tell me everything you've ever said. All the words. Starting form the very first one.

It’s the beautiful moments like these that make up for the ugly love.

If you don't want a sarcastic answer, don't ask a stupid question

Ugly love becomes you. Consumes you. Makes you hate it all.

The ugly parts of love can’t lift you up. They bring you D O W N. They hold you under. Drown you. You look up and think, I wish I was up there. But you’re not. Ugly love becomes you. Consumes you. Makes you hate it all. Makes you realize that all the beautiful parts aren’t even worth it. Without the beautiful, you’ll never risk feeling this. You’ll never risk feeling the ugly. So you give it up. You give it all up. You never want love again, no matter what kind it is, because no type of love will ever be worth living through the ugly love again. I’ll never let myself love anyone again, Rachel. Ever.

It’s funny how he refuses to make eye contact during sex yet can’t seem to keep his eyes off me the rest of the time.

When you kiss, you can close your eyes. You can kiss away the thoughts. You can kiss away the pain, the doubt, the shame. When you close your eyes and kiss, you protect yourself from the vulnerability.

The difference between the ugly side of love and the beautiful side of love is that the beautiful side is much lighter. It makes you feel like you’re floating. It lifts you up. Carries you.

What’s the point of continuing this if we know it won’t end well?” I ask her “Because we don’t know how to stop.

If being with Tate for a few short months can make that pain bearable enough for you to answer with maybe, imagine what a lifetime with her could do for you.

I wish I were in high school again so I could call him a butthole. Adults don't call their brothers buttholes, though.

I’m sorry it took me so long,” he says with a voice full of remorse. “But I’ll never be able to thank you enough for not giving up on me. You saw something in me that gave you hope in us, and you didn’t give up on that. And Tate? That means more to me than anything anyone’s ever done.

There were moments I didn't care if I ever hurt again, because being with you almost felt worth the potential pain.

This felt like an end. I'm not sure I was ready for this to be end. I'm not sure I was ready for there ever to be an end, and I hate myself for allowing my feelings to get to that point.

His lips against mine feel like everything. Like living and dying and being reborn, all at the same time.

My grandfather used to say the placement of a birthmark was the story of how a person lost the battle in their past life. I guess you got stabbed in the neck. Bet it was a quick death, though.

Tate lays her head on my arm, and we both watch her. Our daughter. I love you so much, Sam. I’m looking down at the perfection we created when it hits me. It’s all worth it. It’s the beautiful moments like these that make up for the uglylove.

You make everything better," I tell her. "My life. It's better with you in it.

It's love in general I don't want, Tate. Ever. It's you specifically that I just...want.

I find myself comparing the feel and smell of brand-new rain to his kiss. His kiss is much, much better.

You're the only one who could have ever met my standards for her, Miles. I'm happy it's you.

You're not Corbin," he mutters. "No. I'm not. But I am your new neighbour, and from the looks of it, you're about to owe me at least fifty cups of sugar.

He's smiling, and I didn't realize how much I missed seeing that smile. He should smile all the time. Forever. At me.

Does he not realize that facial expressions are supposed to accompany speech?

So give it up. You give it all up. You never want love again, no matter what kind it is, because no type of love will ever be worth living through the ugly love again.

What do you want to be?" "Happy," she says with a smile. That's the perfect answer.

If that boy can't see what a good thing he could have with you, then he ain't worth your time.

He laughs with relief. “Yes.” The word yes is so much more beautiful coming from his mouth, laced with that voice. He could probably make any word beautiful. I try to think of a word I hate. I kind of hate the word ox. It’s an ugly word. Too short and clipped. I wonder if his voice could make me love that word. “Say the word ox.” His eyebrow rises, like he’s wondering if he heard me right. He thinks I’m weird. I don’t care. “Just say it,” I tell him. “Ox,” he says, with slight hesitation. I smile. I love the word ox. It’s my new favorite word.

I can't tell if you're really mature for your age or really delusional." I shrug, guarding my delusions deep inside my chest. "An unhealthy mixture of both, I'm sure.

Jesus Christ, Tate, you’re staring at his damn crotch!

Sometimes it's easy to forget how much you miss people until you see them again.

You bend the laws of the universe when you fly," I say. "It's impressive. Defying gravity? Watching sunrises and sunsets from places Mother Nature didn't intend for you to watch them from? You really are superheroes, if you think about it.

I’m not Tate when I’m near Miles. I’m liquid, and liquid doesn’t know how to be firm or stand up for itself. Liquid flows. That’s all I want to do with Miles. Flow.

God gave me a lot of great things to accomplish in my life, and right now, I’m so far behind I ain’t ever gonna die.

Love isn't always pretty, Tate. Sometimes you spend all your time hoping it'll eventually be something different. Something better. Then, before you know it, you're back to square one, and you lost you heart somewhere along the way

The fact that Ridge has been honest in his conversations with me is not something he did wrong. The fact that he has feelings for me also isn’t wrong, when you know exactly how much he’s fought those feelings. People can’t control matters of the heart, Warren. They can only control their actions, which is exactly what Ridge did. He lost control once for ten seconds, but after that, every single time temptation reared its ugly head, he walked in the other direction. The only thing Ridge has done wrong is fail to delete his messages, because by doing so, he failed to protect Maggie. He failed to protect her from the harsh truth that people don’t get to choose who they fall in love with. They only get to choose who they stay in love with.” I look up at the ceiling and blink back tears. “He was choosing to stay in love with her, Warren. Why can’t she see that? This will kill him so much more than it’s killing her.

I fall in and out and back in love with that answer.

As soon as he comes into view, I lose the war. The war I didn't even know I was fighting. It doesn't happen often, but when I do find a guy attractive, it's better when it happens with a person I want it to happen with

I keep waiting for the day when it will hurt less. When I won't miss him as much

The only thing that could possibly seperate me from him right now would be a bolt of lightening. Or the fact that it's raining so hard I can't breathe.

If I were capable of loving someone . . . it would be you.

That's how it is when a person develops an attraction toward someone. He's nowhere, then suddenly he's everywhere, whether you want him to be or not.

And I realized... just now... that God gives us the ugliness so we don't take the beautiful things in life for granted.

It's all worth it. It's the beautiful moments like these that make up for the ugly love.

He inhales a shaky breath while looking down at my mouth. 'You make it so hard to breathe.

But then I met you, and every single day since then, I've wondered how someone could be so beautiful if there wasn't a God

I'm afraid of how this is going to end.

Well, you’re definitely not gay,” someone says from behind us.

I love how (last one, I swear) when we watched The Forces of Nature and Sandra Bullock walked away in the end and I was screaming at the TV for such an ugly ending, you just shrugged your shoulders and said, “It’s real, Six. You can’t get mad at a real ending. Some of them are ugly. It’s the fake happily ever afters that should piss you off.” I’ll never forget that, because you were right

I know the thought of confronting your past terrifies you. It terrifies every man. But sometimes we don't do it for ourselves. We do it for the people we love more than ourselves.

I didn't fall in love with you, Tate. I flew.

I can’t believe I just asked you for sex. What kind of guy does that?” I swallow. “Pretty much all of them.

Have I mentioned I'm not much of a morning person?

She's absolutely beautiful. Her hope is beautiful. The smile on her face is beautiful. The tears streaming down her cheeks are beautiful. Her love is beautiful.

that God gives us the ugliness so we don’t take the beautiful things in life for granted.

It’s been six years, Tate. Believe me when I tell you . . . I’m ready.

What’s the difference?” I lower my mouth to hers once more. “You,” I whisper. “I like kissing you.

I want to cover my heart with armor

I’m attracted to you, Tate,” he says, his voice low. “I want you, but I want you without any of that other stuff.

He won again. I’m beginning to realize that competing for who can stay the quietest isn’t really a good idea when my competitor is naturally the quietest person I’ve ever met.

Every time I'm with him, he fills my heart up more and more, and the more it's filled with pieces of him, the more painful it'll be when he rips it out of my chest as though it never belonged there in the first place

Love isn't always pretty, Tate. Sometimes you spend all your time hoping it'll eventually be something different. Something better. Then, before you know it, you're back to square one, and you lost your heart somewhere along the way.

It's funny how that works. Sometimes not speaking says more than all the words in the world. Sometimes my silence is saying I don't know how to speak to you. I don't know what you're thinking. talk to me. Tell me everything you've ever sad. All the words. Starting from your very first one.

It's inevitable. He's so adamant about the things he doesn't want out of life, and I'm starting to understand just how serious he is. So much as I want to protect my heart from him, it's pointless. He's going to break it eventually, yet I continue to allow him to fill it. Every time I'm with him, he fills my heart up more and more,and the more it's filled with pieces of him, the more painful it'll be when he rips it out of my chest as though it never belonged there in the first place.

You look up and think, I wish I was up there. But you're not. Ugly becomes you. Consumes you. Makes you hate it all. Makes you realize that all the beautiful parts aren't even worth it. Without the beautiful, you'll never risk feeling this. You'll never risk the ugly feeling. So give it up. You give it all up. You never want love again, no matter what kind it is, because no type of love will ever be worth living through the ugly love again.

It's funny how that works. Sometimes not speaking says more than all the words in the world. Sometimes my silence is saying, I don't know how to speak to you. I don't know what you're thinking. Talk to me. Tell me everything you've ever said. All the words. Starting from your very first one.

We reach the corner, and I begin to head back in the direction of the apartment complex, but I notice he’s stopped walking. I turn around, and he’s pulling something out of the bag he’s holding. He tears away a tag, and a blanket unfolds. No, he didn’t. He holds the blanket out to the old man still there bundled up on the sidewalk. The man looks up at him and takes the blanket. Neither of them says a word. Miles walks to a nearby trash can and tosses the empty bag into it, then heads back toward me while staring down at the ground. He doesn’t even make eye contact with me when we both begin walking in the direction of the apartment complex. I want to tell him thank you, but I don’t. If I tell him thank you, it would seem like I assume he did that for me. I know he didn’t do it for me. He did it for the man who was cold.

I have always enjoyed kissing the girls I've kissed in the past but only because I was attracted to them. It didn't really have anything to do with them in particular. When I kissed all the other girls, I felt pleasure. That's why people enjoy kissing, because it feels good. But when you like to kiss someone because of who she is, the difference isn't found in the pleasure. The difference is found in the pain you feel when you're not kissing her. It doesn't hurt when I'm not kissing any of the other girls I've kissed. It only hurts when I'm not kissing Rachel. Maybe this explains why falling in love is so damn painful. I like kissing you, Rachel.

There are moments in every relationship that define when two people start to fall in love. A first glance A first smile A first kiss A first fall… (I remove the Darth Vader house shoes from my satchel and look down at them.) You were wearing these during one of those moments. One of the moments I first started to fall in love with you. The way you gave me butterflies that morning Had absolutely nothing to do with anyone else, and everything to do with you. I was falling in love with you that morning because of you. (I take the next item out of the satchel. When I pull it out and look up, she brings her hands to her mouth in shock.) This ugly little gnome With his smug little grin… He's the reason I had an excuse to invite you into my house. Into my life. You took a lot of aggression out on him over those next few months. I would watch from my window as you would kick him over every time you walked by him. Poor little guy. You were so tenacious. That feisty, aggressive, strong-willed side of you…. The side of you that refused to take crap from this concrete gnome? The side of you that refused to take crap from me? I fell in love with that side of you because of you. (I set the gnome down on the stage and grab the CD) This is your favorite CD ‘Layken’s shit.’ Although now I know you intended for shit to be possessive, rather than descriptive. The banjo started playing through the speakers of your car and I immediately recognized my favorite band. Then when I realized it was your favorite band, too? The fact that these same lyrics inspired both of us? I fell in love with that about you. That had absolutely nothing to do with anyone else. I fell in love with that about you because of you. (I take a slip of paper out of the satchel and hold it up. When I look at her, I see Eddie slide her a napkin. I can’t tell from up here, but that can only mean she’s crying.) This is a receipt I kept. Only because the item I purchased that night was on the verge of ridiculous. Chocolate milk on the rocks? Who orders that? You were different, and you didn’t care. You were being you. A piece of me fell in love with you at that moment, because of you. This? (I hold up another sheet of paper.) This I didn’t really like so much. It’s the poem you wrote about me. The one you titled 'mean?' I don’t think I ever told you… but you made a zero. And then I kept it to remind myself of all the things I never want to be to you. (I pull her shirt from my bag. When I hold it into the light, I sigh into the microphone.) This is that ugly shirt you wear. It doesn’t really have anything to do with why I fell in love with you. I just saw it at your house and thought I’d steal it.