Trent Dalton Love Stories Quotes

The only cure for grief is to grieve. The only cure for hurt is to hurt. Every tear is a tribute. Every tear is a memory, every memory is a treasure.

Love breeds love. Big or little, every gesture of love is as worthy and important as another. And maybe the small is actually not so small after all. Sometimes those little gestures are just as life-saving.

Love is commitment,' Zak says. 'I don't just mean commitment to a person, I mean commitment to making space for someone in your life and letting them grow and change inside that space and still loving them.

Remember that the best relationship is one in which your love for each other exceeds your need for each other.

Sometimes true love is not saying a single word. Just being there. Sometimes that's the greatest love we can bring someone. Just be quite. Just shut the fuck up and be there.

The analogy might be that love is like the sun. We cannot look directly at it, but we see our world because of it, and experience its many life-sustaining functions. Essentially, the “teleological” definitions of love point to it nurturing, healing and transforming humans (and societies) into the best versions of themselves

Sometimes you don’t have to say anything, you can just feel,

Love is lifting your heart up for the ones you love.

Love is a river. Love is a mountain. Love makes you a mountaineer.

Love is helping others,’ he says. ‘You see someone sad, you lift them up. Buy ’em a cup of coffee. That’s what I do. Don’t leave someone at square one.

She's beautiful, Graeme,' I say. 'I know,' he says, warmly and softly, gently nodding his head, more tears welling in his broken eyes. 'I don't have to see her to know that.

Love is knowing when you've come home.

You're on the low side of love but that's still love all the same. Maybe you're lucky to have held a kind of love that makes you feel so low. Some folks feel no side of love at all.

Love is the privilege of being with someone long enough that you’re gradually refining the truths that you tell each other. You feel safe enough to keep showing more and more of yourself to each other.

It feels like unrequited love, but it's not because of someone not loving me. It's that they're not here anymore. It's unrequited, but it's not painful in the sense that I love someone and they don't love me back. I love someone, I just can't be with him because he's not here anymore.

Love is a necessity not a luxury.

if you’re asking Rosie O’Malley what true love is then you can be sure that it’s got something to do with the way Seamus brings a cup of tea to her halfway through her bath and doesn’t ask why she’s so quiet or why she needed the bath in the first place.

Love is a warm bowl. Love is joy and comfort and two heads resting against each other for a lifetime.

Love is risk. Love is cost. Love is what NASA scientists say about failure: how there's no such thing, only early attempts at success.

The ones we love are the stars in our black skies, blinking every evening after dinner to remind us that the darkness stretches out forever but the darkness does not win this thing.

Don't you understand? You must understand!' And shudders with the ache of the thought in her head and she reaches out to grab my hand. 'I missed out on two whole years of being kissed by him,' she says.

She sees love as a thing that is expanding like the universe and if love is a universe then she's travelled to the very edge of it. She has stood on the edge of love and looked over the side and stared into the abyss of it, and she has seen death down there, then rebirth and death again.

Letting go. Who would ever do such a thing? Let go of the one you love? Let them go from your heart, from your memory, from the door of your fridge? And don't you dare see that as a 'Kerry hasn't dealt with her deep shit' type of thing. That's actually a romance thing, she says. That's a true-love thing. She will never let him go. She will never stop staring at the pictures on the refrigerator. She will not protect herself from the feeling of his love.

We humans like to operate in three-second bursts of emotion. A three-second greeting, a three-second wave goodbye. Infants rambling sentences and gesturing wildly: three seconds. More primally, we breath deep in three-second bursts, we chew food in three-second bursts. Same in the animal kingdom. A giraffe chews a leaf, a panda has a scratch, a kangaroo takes a dump. Three seconds. A whole world turning in three-second life-units that builds upon themselves to form a truly wondrous twenty-four-hour miracle . . .

You ever felt that kinda low? The kind you want to stay in?

Love can be given and love can be received, but it can't be owned. It can be treasured and worshipped and it can be kept inside the steel safe inside your heart, but it still can't be owned. Someone can choose to take it away, too. They can do that because that love belongs to them. And that's what makes it the greatest gift. That's why we must treasure the love we are given for as long as we are given it.

Hate's got nothing to do with love. In the realms of powerful four-letter words 'hate' belongs down in the slums with 'burp' and 'fart' and 'piss' and 'moan'. Hate's just another bargain-basement addiction, as useful to the broken-hearted as the smokes and the smack and the cheap red wine. Hate is a gallstone. Hate is puppy fat. Weight we don't need. Another boulder to heavy for most. The hateful want the hated to be buried by their boulders, but they can't seem to let their boulders go. Some rocks are just too fuckin' big to throw. So the boulders of hate only bury the hateful. Void spaces once filled with love will never be filled with hate. Void spaces once filled with love can only be filled again wih love.

True love is exposing all the pieces.

He has been learning the art of it, all its nuance, all its depth and complexity. He still practises every day, refining his craft, improving on his life's greatest work. He has now clocked up 499,320 hours. He is a Jedi master at loving . . .

She realises now that grief is the price she will willingly pay to have loved someone so deeply.

Everything about love raises the stakes. Health suddenly becomes something of importance for a person newly in love. The future never seems more concerning. Global markets, wars in faraway places, pandemics on our doorstep. The safety and protection of the ones you love is suddenly as essential to you as air and water.

quixotism is more than a useful Scrabble word,

There are many beautiful Auslan videos online showing how to sign various words & phrases, none more beautiful than the one with the boy in the big blue woolly jumper saying, 'I love you.' Point your forefinger at your chest, form a cross with your forearms while placing your palms over your heart, then point your forefinger at the person you love: I love you.

Three seconds. A whole world turning in three-second life-units that build upon themselves to form a truly wondrous twenty-four-hour miracle that we so insufficiently call 'Wednesday'.

The only cure for grief is to grieve. The only cure for hurt is to hurt. Every tear is a tribute. Every tear is a memory, every memory a treasure. Cry buckets and then when your bucket is full, poor your collective tears over your garden flowers and watch them bloom in all the sunrises of your grieving.

You can’t own love love can be given and love can be received, but it can’t be owned. It can be treasured and it can be worshipped and it can be kept inside the steel safe inside your heart, but it still can’t be owned. Someone can choose to give you their love, but they can choose to take it away, too. They can do that because that love belongs to them. And that’s what makes it the greatest gift. That’s why we must treasure the love we are given for as long as we are given it. It’s a gift that needs our work and our time and our care. If we get to care for and carry that gift for as long as we live, then right on donkey Kong! Please don’t think for a second that it’s yours to own, Pat Malone.

The bloody pool of War has its ripples. Gordon had no doubt that the blood-pool ripples of war and coming home from war stretched for the next 80 years through my family, sure as they stretched through 80 years of Australian domestic and cultural and social life, generation to generation, husband to wife, father to daughter, father to son.

You must have known the point of it all: live a life so full and selfless that latecomers struggle to find a spare seat at your funeral.

I believe in standing your ground, running for your life, working, trying, attempting, struggling, losing, healing, winning, ending and always beginning. I believe in love.

And then time did what it does so gracefully - it ticked forward.

But the best gig he ever landed through acting was a lifetime loving Julia McCulley.

Because home is Sarah. And Sarah is home.

You still have space in your heart for the one you lost.

So that's the catch of love. The hardest things inside us, the saddest things, stem from the best things inside us, the sweetest things.

Norm was a member of an exclusive cheap living room club of rapier-witted conversationalists and coffee guzzlers who called themselves the Dawn-Busting Phantoms. ‘The deal with being a member of the Dawn-Busting Phantoms was that you talked all night at someone’s house and you weren’t allowed to go home until the break of dawn.