Indonesian Love Quotes

We've searched our database for all the quotes and captions related to Indonesian Love. Here they are! All 27 of them:

Men feel cherished when they are needed. Women feel cherished when they are loved. Indonesian version (Bahasa): Kaum pria jadi termotivasi dan bersemangat kala mereka merasa dibutuhkan. Kaum wanita jadi termotivasi dan bersemangat kala mereka merasa dicintai.
John Gray
Setiap hari aku berandai-andai, membayangkan betapa beruntungnya aku jika bisa selalu bersama hal seindah dirimu seumur hidupku.
Christian Simamora (All You Can Eat)
Yang membuatmu patah hati sebenarnya bukan cinta,melainkan besarnya harapan yang kau pertaruhkan untuknya.
Christian Simamora (As Seen On TV)
It takes both sides to build a bridge.
Fredrik Nael
Satu dari seribu, aku mau kamu
Oda Sekar Ayu (Petjah)
Ketika cinta tak memilih jenis kelamin, Cinta pun menjadi terlarang. “Aku mencintaimu, karena aku mencintaimu.
Andrei Aksana (Lelaki Terindah)
Nina bobo, ni ni bobo," he was singing in his deep, beautiful voice, an Indonesian lullaby, much older than Magnus himself. He rocked their child in his arms. Max was waving his hands as though to conduct the song, or to catch the firefly-bright and cobalt-blue sparks of magic floating around the room. Magnus was smiling down at Max, a small, tender, and impossibly sweet smile, even as he sang. Alec meant to let them be and return to bed, but Magnus paused in his song and tossed Alec a glance as though he knew he'd been watching. Alec leaned in the doorway of the bedroom, resting his hand over his head against the doorframe. "Is that your bapak?" he said to Max. After some consideration, Max said, "Bapak." The look Magnus gave Alec was golden as a coin, as Nephilim wedding cloth, as the morning light through the windows of home.
Cassandra Clare (The Lost Book of the White (The Eldest Curses, #2))
Tidak perlu pisau untuk membunuh cinta. Yang kamu butuhkan hanya ucapan perpisahan.
Christian Simamora (As Seen On TV)
I don't yhink, I'm in love. But I know I'm in love with you, Felice....
Robin Wijaya
I don't think, I'm in love. But I know I'm in love with you, Felice....
Robin Wijaya
Tidak ada yang pasti dalam hidup ini, Maura. Apalagi soal cinta. Tapi cinta sejati akan teruji dengan waktu. Siapa yang tetap bertahan berada di sampingmu sesulit apa pun hidupmu. Menerimamu walaupun mungkin kelak kamu berubah, itulah cinta sejatimu. saat kamu baru memulainya, tak ada yang bisa memastikan, cinta itu berakhir indah atau sebaliknya.
Arumi E. (Love in Sydney)
Norenzayan distinguishes between private and communal religiosity in surveying support for suicide bombers among Palestinians.17 In a refutation of “Islam = terrorism” idiocy, people’s personal religiosity (as assessed by how often they prayed) didn’t predict support for terrorism. However, frequently attending services at a mosque did. The author then polled Indian Hindus, Russian Orthodox adherents, Israeli Jews, Indonesian Muslims, British Protestants, and Mexican Catholics as to whether they’d die for their religion and whether people of other religions caused the world’s troubles. In all cases frequent attendance of religious services, but not frequent prayer, predicted those views. It’s not religiosity that stokes intergroup hostility; it’s being surrounded by coreligionists who affirm parochial identity, commitment, and shared loves and hatreds. This is hugely important.
Robert M. Sapolsky (Behave: The Biology of Humans at Our Best and Worst)
What a joy this book is! I love recipe books, but it’s short-lived; I enjoy the pictures for several minutes, read a few pages, and then my eyes glaze over. They are basically books to be used in the kitchen for one recipe at a time. This book, however, is in a different class altogether and designed to be read in its entirety. It’s in its own sui generis category; it has recipes at the end of most of the twenty-one chapters, but it’s a book to be read from cover to cover, yet it could easily be read chapter by chapter, in any order, as they are all self-contained. Every bite-sized chapter is a flowing narrative from a well-stocked brain encompassing Balinese culture, geography and history, while not losing its main focus: food. As you would expect from a scholar with a PhD in history from Columbia University, the subject matter has been meticulously researched, not from books and articles and other people’s work, but from actually being on the ground and in the markets and in the kitchens of Balinese families, where the Balinese themselves learn their culinary skills, hands on, passed down orally, manually and practically from generation to generation. Vivienne Kruger has lived in Bali long enough to get it right. That’s no mean feat, as the subject has not been fully studied before. Yes, there are so-called Balinese recipe books, most, if I’m not mistaken, written by foreigners, and heavily adapted. The dishes have not, until now, been systematically placed in their proper cultural context, which is extremely important for the Balinese, nor has there been any examination of the numerous varieties of each type of recipe, nor have they been given their true Balinese names. This groundbreaking book is a pleasure to read, not just for its fascinating content, which I learnt a lot from, but for the exuberance, enthusiasm and originality of the language. There’s not a dull sentence in the book. You just can’t wait to read the next phrase. There are eye-opening and jaw-dropping passages for the general reader as Kruger describes delicacies from the village of Tengkudak in Tabanan district — grasshoppers, dragonflies, eels and live baby bees — and explains how they are caught and cooked. She does not shy away from controversial subjects, such as eating dog and turtle. Parts of it are not for the faint-hearted, but other parts make you want to go out and join the participants, such as the Nusa Lembongan fishermen, who sail their outriggers at 5.30 a.m. The author quotes Miguel Covarrubias, the great Mexican observer of the 1930s, who wrote “The Island of Bali.” It has inspired all writers since, including myself and my co-author, Ni Wayan Murni, in our book “Secrets of Bali, Fresh Light on the Morning of the World.” There is, however, no bibliography, which I found strange at first. I can only imagine it’s a reflection of how original the subject matter is; there simply are no other sources. Throughout the book Kruger mentions Balinese and Indonesian words and sometimes discusses their derivations. It’s a Herculean task. I was intrigued to read that “satay” comes from the Tamil word for flesh ( sathai ) and that South Indians brought satay to Southeast Asia before Indonesia developed its own tradition. The book is full of interesting tidbits like this. The book contains 47 recipes in all, 11 of which came from Murni’s own restaurant, Murni’s Warung, in Ubud. Mr Dolphin of Warung Dolphin in Lovina also contributed a number of recipes. Kruger adds an introduction to each recipe, with a detailed and usually very personal commentary. I think my favorite, though, is from a village priest (pemangku), I Made Arnila of the Ganesha (Siwa) Temple in Lovina. water. I am sure most will enjoy this book enormously; I certainly did.” Review published in The Jakarta Globe, April 17, 2014. Jonathan Copeland is an author and photographer based in Bali. thejakartaglobe/features/spiritual-journey-culinary-world-bali
Vivienne Kruger
As much as he influenced her, Bindi changed Steve, too. After our Florida trip, Bindi and I went home, while Steve flew off to the Indonesian island of Sumatra. We couldn’t accompany him because of the malaria risk, so we kept the home fires burning instead. At one point, Steve was filming with orangutans when his newfound fatherhood came in handy. A local park ranger who had worked with the national park’s orangutans for twenty-five years accompanied Steve into the rain forest, where they encountered a mother and baby orangutan. The rangers keep a close eye on the orangutans to prevent poaching, and the ranger recognized a lot of the animals by sight. “She reminds me of Bindi,” Steve exclaimed, seeing the infant ape. It was a mischievous, happy baby, clinging to her mother way up in the top branches of a tree. “This will be great to film,” Steve said. “I’ll climb into the tree, and then you can get me and the orangutans in the same shot.” The ranger waved his hands, heading Steve off. “You absolutely can’t do that,” the ranger said. “The mother orangutans are extremely protective. If you make a move anywhere near that tree, she’ll come down and pull your arms off.” Steve paused to listen. “They are very strong,” the ranger said. “She won’t tolerate you in her tree.” “I won’t climb very close to her,” Steve said. “I’ll just go a little way up. Then the camera can shoot up at me and get her in the background.” The ranger looked doubtful. “Okay, Steve,” he said. “But I promise you, she will come down out of that tree and pull your head off.” “Don’t worry, mate,” Steve said confidently, “she’ll be right.” He climbed into the tree. Down came the mother, just as the ranger had predicted. Tugging, pulling, and dragging her baby along behind her, she deftly made her way right over to Steve. He didn’t move. He sat on his tree limb and watched her come toward him. The crew filmed it all, and it became one of the most incredible shots in documentary filmmaking. Mama came close to Steve. She swung onto the same tree limb. Then she edged her way over until she sat right beside him. Everyone on the crew was nervous, except for Steve. Mama put her arm around Steve’s shoulders. I guess the ranger was right, Steve thought, wondering if he would be armless or headless in the very immediate future. While hanging on to her baby, Mama pulled Steve in tight with her other arm, looked him square in the face, and…started making kissy faces at him. The whole crew busted up laughing as Mama puckered up her lips and looked lovingly into Steve’s eyes. “You’ve got a beautiful little baby, sweetheart,” Steve said softly. The baby scrambled up the limb away from them, and without taking her eyes off Steve, the mother reached over, grabbed her baby, and dragged the tot back down. “You’re a good mum,” Steve cooed. “You take good care of that little bib-bib.” “I have never seen anything like that,” the park ranger said later. I had to believe that the encounter was further evidence of the uncanny connection Steve had with the wildlife he loved so much, as well as one proud parent recognizing another.
Terri Irwin (Steve & Me)
Yang sudah terlanjur terjadi tidak bisa kita batakan. Kita yan harus memutuskan, mau bangkit atau diam saja membiarkan diri tenggelam.
Arumi E. (Love in Sydney)
Hanya waktu yang bisa membuktikan apakah sebuah cinta adalah cinta sejati. Cinta sejati tidak akan lekang digerus waktu, dia akan terus terpatri di dalam dada.
Arumi E. (Love in Sydney)
Melupakan tak akan mudah,Walaupun kau tlah yakin merelakan
-SK-
It’s a beautiful, holy place. A cafeteria full of people from all over the world who have been displaced in a foreign country, each with a different history. Where did they come from and how far did they travel? Why are they all here? To find the galangal no American supermarket stocks to make the Indonesian curry that their father loves?
Michelle Zauner (Crying in H Mart)
You know, I don't think that 'love' has the strongest affectionate inclination in the daily language of my country. People don't necessarily say 'love'. 'Aku sayang kamu' You tell them you care about them. I think it's because, when you care about someone, you actually do something about it. It's a term you use to express your love to your mother, to your very important people. It's like, they want to protect you, to tend your needs, to do everything for you. It's not just a feeling. It's a commitment.
Ziggy Zezsyazeoviennazabrizkie (San Francisco)
So, what are we cooking for your mom?" "One of her favorite dishes---nasi campur, a traditional dish from Jakarta, where my father was born." He pauses, flashes a wicked grin. "You'll love it." "What if I don't?" "Then there's something wrong with your taste buds." He grins again. "I assure you that you'll be licking your plate." After giving me a sexy smirk, he unpacks the crate, unloading spices and ingredients, and says, "Nasi campur is one of Indonesia's national dishes---very traditional. The name means 'mixed rice,' and it's typically served with a variety of local dishes, such as chicken satay, beef rendang, prawn crackers.
Samantha Verant (The Spice Master at Bistro Exotique)
Primer of Love [Lesson 49] If you enter a goat stable, bleat; if you enter a water buffalo stable, bellow. ~ Indonesian Proverb Lesson 49) When in Rome don't do as the Romans do -- never lose sight of who you really are. Adapt to a point, but don't let outside pressure or inward pretension compromise what little integrity you have left. If you're invited to home of the rich, don't stick out your teacup pinky while pissing in their gold plated sink. You were invited there anyway to amuse their ennui riddled, euro-trash asses, so just piss in the sink like you do back home. Hey, stop rifling through their medicine cabinet! This isn't Italy!
Beryl Dov
Jika kamu beruntung hari ini, belum tentu sepanjang tahun kamu akan mengalami keberuntungan. Setiap orang akan bertemu ujian hidupnya. Bukan berarti kamu nggak bisa bahagia. Bahagia atau tidak, kamu sendiri yang memutuskan.
Arumi E. (Love in Sydney)
He parked in front of a wooden shack with a gaudy sign out front: THE HALA KAHIKI LOUNGE. “You’re gonna love this.” The inside was a movie set for a late-night jungle melodrama on WGN: walls of grimacing island gods, plastic leis and paper lanterns, and enough bamboo to build an Indonesian aircraft carrier. “Don’t worry, the Pusateris don’t have a piece of this.” Matty didn’t know he should have been worried about that until he mentioned it.
Daryl Gregory (Spoonbenders)
If you prefer darker roasts and you like lots of body then Brazilian or Indonesian will suit you fine. They tend to have great body, take to a dark roast well and have less acidity.
Matt Milner (Coffee Roasting at Home - Love at First Taste - Quick & Easy Starter Guide (Home Coffee Adventures Book 1))
Semi-enclosed within a rampart of books, she was reading intensely, oblivious of everything except the volumes she had gathered around her. Freddy tilted his head and read the titles on the bindings, whispering them as he read. He had assumed that her selection would be heavy on fashion, makeup, and “celebrities,” but he was wrong. With her left hand resting possessively on Who’s Who in Zimbabwe, she was deep in Sources and Methods of Hiccup Diagnosis. She had also chosen the Directory of Polish Hydraulic Fluid Wholesalers; the Encyclopaedia of Angels; the Catalogue of Chuvash Books in German Libraries; Aboriginal Science Fiction; The Register of Non-Existent Churches; A Bibliography of Indonesian Military Poetry; Orators Who Possessed Horses; Lloyds’ Survey of Failed Board Games; A Dictionary of the Efik Language; The Picture Book of Albanian Idioms—a list in her handwriting lay next to the latter, beginning with the entry, “I ka duart të prera, ‘to have one’s hands cut off,’ ”—The Language of the French & Indian War, Vol. I, Obscene Expressions; Glossary of Dead Architects (Freddy couldn’t wait to read the latest entries); and, finally, though not least, Nicknames of Popular Fish. “You see,” he told her, “it’s fascinating.” “Yes, I love it. Now go away.” “I have our press.” “I couldn’t care less about our press.” She held up Who’s Who in Zimbabwe. “There’s a whole world out there, Freddy, that has nothing to do with us.
Mark Helprin (Freddy and Fredericka)
Behind the counters, women in visors work without stopping. It’s a beautiful, holy place. A cafeteria full of people from all over the world who have been displaced in a foreign country, each with a different history. Where did they come from and how far did they travel? Why are they all here? To find the galangal no American supermarket stocks to make the Indonesian curry that their father loves? To buy the rice cakes to celebrate Jesa and honor the anniversary of their loved one’s passing? To satisfy a craving for tteokbokki on a rainy day, moved by a memory of some drunken, late-night snack under a pojangmacha tent in Myeong-dong?
Michelle Zauner (Crying in H Mart)
Labels and boxes don’t matter any more when you always want to be with someone, hear her whole life story, or trace your fingers through her hair when you’re worn out after making love.
Intan Paramaditha (Wędrówka)