Truly Madly Deeply Quotes

Love?' he asked himself, giving no sense of recognition for that word in the dictionary of his mind. It was the only battle he had lost in life, the only thing that had been snatched away from him, before he could even claim it.

That night it did not rain as much in the sky as it did in his heart.

The pain would not leave him. It came to him like the tide that hits the sea.

I'm in love, truly, madly, deeply in love with perception.

Walking alone is not difficult but when we have walked a mile worth a thousand years with someone then coming back alone is what is difficult.

Love never comes with a brochure of rules and regulations, a prospectus with guides of what is acceptable and what is abominable. It’s a standard to follow your heart, and that’s what I did and if doing that hurt you, then I’m sorry… sorry for coming in your life and wasting your time, for causing you an anguish so great that you could not bear the sight of me. Today, I am proud to stand up and honour myself and proclaim to the world… yes, I loved someone more than myself. I loved someone truly, madly, deeply!

I inhale loneliness like it is the sweet smell of virgin earth conquered by fiery rain drops. Within me, I'm a thousand others.

If a man cries in front of you, it doesn't mean he's weak. It means that he trusts you enough to let his guard down.

There is not much left to see in this world if one sees her once.

I didn't know that there was a thin line between ignorance and arrogance.

I want truly, madly, deeply.

Silence has its own language and in that silence he found words within himself; words for her, words for him and words for them.

It was like watching a movie being played on the blank screen of his mind; the only difference was that he did not get bored, no matter how many times he watched it.

If not towards his case to give him glimpses of what could be a happy future, it stayed back at least to warrant her happiness, stayed back with the pain that strangely didn’t hurt anymore.

Her receding laughter sounded so comforting, so alluring to my senses that I could hardly control myself from reaching out to her and telling her what I felt there and then!

Perhaps that is the real surprise of love; it exists, but one may not attribute causes and effects to it. The existence may appear to be a mere fallacy to the minds of some, and by the time they realise what hit them, they would already be down and dead.

I eyed her like a thirsty traveler in the desert looks at a pail of water.

There was only one four-lettered word having precedence over life itself and it was LOVE.

It was as if he had known her for a long, long time and before he knew her, he knew nothing because he felt he had not existed then, life had been absent in his breaths.

Ross believed in past lives. Moreover, he believed that the person you fell in love with in each life was the same person you fell in love with in the life before, and the one before that. Sometimes, you might miss her - she'd be reborn in post-World War I generation, and you wouldn't come back until the fifties. Sometimes, your paths would cross and you wouldn't recognize each other. Get it right - that is: fall madly, truly, deeply - and perhaps there'd be an eternity carved out solely for the two of you.

Be honest and don't pretend you're not falling truly, madly, and deeply for this guy. Denial will get you in trouble.

The flush on her pale cheeks was like the blush of sunset on snow.

Her fragrance blew him off and his body followed steps he had never learnt in his life.

I am madly, deeply, truly, passionately in love with you. -Charlie

He decided that for an ounce of that laughter, he could sacrifice an entire lifetime of happiness.

He stopped his act to take a snapshot of that instant he would so treasure- her delightful laughter that could make him do anything, anything at all, in the world and beyond!

He got up slowly, not bothering to curse himself for forgetting the stop where he had to disembark. He was not used to leaving things behind; he wondered how the bus stop escaped.

Her melodious laughter sounded like the distant tinkling of soft bells and he stored the sound in her temple- his heart.

He took the last seat, as usual, a subtle reminder of what he was and what he had become.

One half of me is a hopeless romantic. The other half is well... just realistic.

A minute teaches me sixty different ways to think about you.

An obstreperous urge seized him. he desperately wanted to hold on to her, to support his slipping heart, and when it slipped away, he realized she had gone away, incarcerating herself in his thought with her smile and unblemished innocence.

May be we feel empty because we leave pieces of ourselves in everything we used to love and then we have nothing left to give anyone, anymore.

It was not one folly that Shakespeare talked about. If Love truly is but a myriad of follies then I have committed them all, that can mean only one thing – I loved her truly, madly, deeply!

Competition was as much as respecting your opponent's work as introspecting on your own.

She flooded my thoughts. I drowned in peace.

Her features were dainty, her small slender wrists climbed up to become the delicate shoulders that beckoned him. Her skin was like peach-tinted cream and he need not have touched her to experience the melting softness of her body. Her perfectly oval face was austere and her manner a little haughty. Her expressions had delicacy as well as a particular strength that did not abate her femininity. It seemed that the world had stopped. Her voice sounded like a melody and she looked like a dream, an illusion, up close and personal.

Love is yet another name for Respect. If you cannot respect a person for what they are; you can never ever truly, madly, or deeply love that person.

She told me her love was like the sky. I thought she was referring to its vastness. Much later, I realised that the sky was hollow... just like her heart!

You’re not broken, Dot.” He stuck the cigarette in his mouth, patting my thigh offhandedly. “A little cut, sure. All diamonds are.

Fate, they say, fate- the clay that molds the events of your life, and it was the same fate that had thrown the stone of her heart on the building of his expectations. But then wasn't it his fault that he had constructed the building of glass? Hadn't he failed to cement the bricks of his love with trust and colour them with security? There was no insurance for broken hearts, no ointment for wounded souls and there would never be one, he knew.

He noticed that she threw away the crumbled bus ticket on the street as soon as she got down. He picked it up and put it in his pocket along with his own a memorabilia of their first date together, just like a strand of her hair he would find later on his shirt and the broken pen cap that she would go on to search in the laboratory and so many other such small things which he would collect.

...the terrible though occurred to her that perhaps she'd always unconsciously believed that because Sam didn't cry, he therefore didn't feel, or he felt less, not as profoundly or deeply as she did. Her focus had always been on how his actions affected her feelings, as if his role was to do things for her, to her, and all that mattered was her emotional response to him, as if a "man" were a product or service, and she'd finally chosen the right brand to get the right response. Was it possible she'd never seen or truly loved him the way he deserved to be loved? As a person? An ordinary, flawed, feeling person?

True love. Mad love. Deep love. The kind of love that makes you do insane things. The kind of love that makes you as angry as it does happy. The kind of love that hurts you as much as it heals you. The forever kind.” Her eyes closed. She was exhausted, but she finished before dozing off. “Truly. Madly. Deeply. That’s what I want.

You are the miracle in me. Forever and always, truly, madly, deeply.

Your broken is still the most whole thing I’ve seen.

always remember what I told you: the darkness envies the moon because it helps it shine. Don’t let people tell you you are anything less than perfect. Love you more than a flower loves the sun, —Dad.

I wasn’t ready for any of that. I was still truly, madly, deeply in love with Samantha. And I was still reeling from losing my virginity to her just a few days earlier. I didn’t want to be unfaithful to her. I figured that cheating was cheating, whether it was live or it was Memorex.

My Princess Layla I cannot express how much I am looking forward to returning to you tomorrow. My heart feels heavy even as I write this letter and I haven’t even departed as yet. You left my company only moments ago and yet my body, heart and soul is yearning for you to return. I’m afraid you have to work today but at least it will distract you from counting the hours, minutes and seconds as I will be doing until I am reunited with you. I’m not sure how you will feel about what I say next but I hope that by the time you get this letter our relationship will have moved forward as I so desperately want it to. Layla Jennings I’m in love with you. Deeply, truly, madly and endlessly I love you. I want to devote my every breath to making you happy and give you everything your heart desires. You’re my sunshine, my rain and my evening stars. I feel as though I was living in the shadows and you have entered my life in a blaze of color and light which has illuminated my very existence. As for me, to love you alone, to make you happy, to do nothing which would contradict your wishes, this is my destiny and the meaning of my life - Napoléon Bonaparte Until tomorrow….Jared xxxx

As he turns around and her eyes meet his, she lets go off the breath that she had been holding back. All the words she had practised to say when the moment arrived, dissolve at the tip of her tongue. All the things she wanted him to know escape her in the thick blanket of nostalgia that wraps itself around her.

If I loved a man, and I mean truly, madly, deeply loved him, then I could never handle knowing that he was with another woman. It would destroy me. I could never forgive that level of betrayal. Hence why taking that chance seems too risky to me. So yeah, I’m probably going to remain ring-free for the foreseeable forty-plus years.

Worry was a thief and fear was a robber. Better not to know what was coming tomorrow.

the darkness envies the moon because it helps it shine.

No relationship, Chrissy, I don't care how truly, madly, deeply it is...No relationship survives on hope. It's forgiveness that keeps it alive.

the darkness envies the moon because it helps it shine. Don’t let people tell you you are anything less than perfect.

It's a blessing that pillows don't have a tongue else they would have revealed the stories of a million absorbed tears.

Sometimes the best way to be happy is to learn to let go of things you tried hard to hold on to that are no longer good for you.

He sits amongst the crowd, entirely alone.

Somewhere, someone knows the words to the songs you sing.

I think I wanted to fall in love. Madly, truly, deeply. And that scared me the most because, like Bilbo discovered, the heartache was worth the adventure.

From the ocean of hope to the fire of despair that your memories gave me, I will treasure them and keep them buried in the layers of my heart where they will remind me of you, each day, each moment.

...the terrible thought occurred to her that perhaps she'd always unconsciously believed that because Sam didn't cry, he therefore didn't feel, or he felt less, not as profoundly or deeply as she did. Her focus had always been on how his actions affected her feelings, as if his role was to do things for her, to her, and all that mattered was her emotional response to him, as if a "man" were a product or service, and she'd finally chosen the right brand to get the right response. Was it possible she'd never seen or truly loved him the way he deserved to be loved? As a person? An ordinary, flawed, feeling person?

But, as I well knew, an understanding at an abstract level does not necessarily translate into an understanding at a day-to-day level. I have become fundamentally and deeply skeptical that anyone who does not have this illness can truly understand it.

An understanding at an abstract level does not necessarily translate into an understanding at a day-to-day level. I have become fundamentally and deeply skeptical that anyone who does not have this illness can truly understand it. And, ultimately, it is probably unreasonable to expect the kind of acceptance of it that one so desperately desires.

We’re all afraid of something. We’re human. But tonight God wants us to lay our fears at the foot of the manger. The way Mary and Joseph did. And do this…” He moved to the center of the stage and peered across the dark room. “Keep walking. Keep seeking His plan. And keep believing.” He grinned. “The miracle you’re waiting for might be closer than you think.

The people who are most discouraged and made despondent by the barbarity and stupidity of human behaviour at this time are those who think highly of Homo Sapiens as a product of evolution, and who still cling to an optimistic belief in the civilizing influence of progress and enlightenment. To them, the appalling outbursts of bestial ferocity in the Totalitarian States, and the obstinate selfishness and stupid greed of Capitalist Society, are not merely shocking and alarming. For them, these things are the utter negation of everything in which they have believed. It is as though the bottom had dropped out of their universe. The whole thing looks like a denial of all reason, and they feel as if they and the world had gone mad together. Now for the Christian, this is not so. He is as deeply shocked and grieved as anybody else, but he is not astonished. He has never thought very highly of human nature left to itself. He has been accustomed to the idea that there is a deep interior dislocation in the very centre of human personality, and that you can never, as they say, ‘make people good by Act of Parliament’, just because laws are man-made and therefore partake of the imperfect and self-contradictory nature of man. Humanly speaking, it is not true at all that ‘truly to know the good is to do the good’; it is far truer to say with St. Paul that ‘the evil that I would not, that I do’; so that the mere increase of knowledge is of very little help in the struggle to outlaw evil. The delusion of the mechanical perfectibility of mankind through a combined process of scientific knowledge and unconscious evolution has been responsible for a great deal of heartbreak. It is, at bottom, far more pessimistic than Christian pessimism, because, if science and progress break down, there is nothing to fall back upon. Humanism is self-contained - it provides for man no resource outside himself.

Luis, who knew the language of tears better than most men, was immobilized by the crystalline purity of the girl’s sad story even more than by her radiant, vulnerable beauty. She wept as we will all weep when the world splits in two and the end has finally arrived. Because love is the saddest thing when it goes away. Because love is unfathomable when one is wounded so deeply. Because in such moments love does not even truly exist.

Do not worry about tomorrow, for tomorrow will worry about itself. Cast all your anxiety on Him, because He cares for you. Whatever is true, whatever is noble, whatever is right, whatever is pure, whatever is lovely, whatever is admirable—if anything is excellent or praiseworthy—think about such things…. And the God of peace will be with you. Come to me, all you who are weary and burdened, and I will give you rest… Over and over and over. Traffic

empirical evidence is precisely that which is sacred in so-called scientific thought, and by these means—there’s no point in denying it—we can go far, but at the same time, by following this method, we greatly distance ourselves from the problem, because it’s so, but so manifest that empirical proof itself is something that no one has ever heretofore truly dealt with, namely, no one has ever wished genuinely to confront the deeply problematic nature of empirical verification as such, because whoever did this went mad, or appeared to be a pure dilettante,

oBITCHuary: So… oBITCHuary: I went back and read through our chats. I totally admitted to you that I’m attracted to my shitty boss, didn’t I? McMonster: Yup. oBITCHuary: Enjoying the ego stroke? McMonster: I’d enjoy it more if you aim south. And, you know, use your tongue. oBITCHuary: I’m never going to be able to look you in the eye. McMonster: May I suggest other organs that will welcome your attention, then? oBITCHuary: I’m so terrified I’m going to yield to temptation. McMonster: Don’t worry, I’m sure I’ll fuck it up before we get to it. oBITCHuary: WHY are you even interested? You could have any woman in the world. McMonster: And you’re that woman. Where’s the mystery? oBITCHuary: I’m completely normal. McMonster: Respectfully, Cal, you’re not. oBITCHuary: LOL. I meant average. McMonster: You’re not that either. oBITCHuary: What am I, then? McMonster: If I have a say about it? Mine.

Over a bowl of noodles [the younger Cantonese man] waxed eloquent on the subject of mantras. 'Ordinary people, Ah Jon, use mantras as spells to win good fortune or ward off disease and other evils. Perhaps they are right to do so, for the mantras are often successful, but I do not ask you to believe that. What I beg you to believe is that they are of the greatest help in altering states of consciousness. They do this by making your mind stay still instead of chasing after thoughts.' He went on to explain that, being devoid of meaning, they do not promote conceptual thought as prayers, invocations and so forth are apt to do; and that, as each mantra has a mysterious correspondence (he could not explain what kind of correspondence) with the various potentialities embedded deeply in our consciousness […] it could cause one to snap into a state otherwise hard to reach. I do not remember his actual words, but I do remember that he was the first to voice an idea which was later to be abundantly confirmed by my own experience. […] he went on to say that to use meaningful words in any kind of religious practice is useless, since words encourage dualistic thought which hinders the mind from entering upon a truly spiritual state. His last words […] were: 'People who pray with words are just beginners. Don't do it!' Several passengers who understood English glanced at him as though they thought him a bit mad and I myself was quite taken aback by his un-Chinese vehemence, but I know now that he was eminently sane.

He didn't just love Lila, he was in love with her. And he wanted to marry her not to save her, but to save himself.

Nick was totally out of his element with the emotional stuff. Tell him to blow up a building, he was good to go. Infiltrate behind enemy lines and blend in? He was your guy. Emotions? He was a fucking lightweight. The

What is time for a foolishly ignorant lover? What is space to a broken heart? How can such dimensions satiate the appetite of love?

memorable for meeting Sharon Stone—a truly attractive woman, in the real sense of light in the eyes attractive—and smart and funny. No wonder she doesn’t have a man.

McMonster: My, my, you can be selfish when you want. oBITCHuary: Only with you. McMonster: That’s all right. oBITCHuary: Why? McMonster: Because you’re the only person I’m selfless with too.

Rhy?” She peered behind her shoulder. Rhyland materialized from one of the back tables of the room. He had been here all along? Fucker hadn’t even come to say hi. He wrestled his way past the masses, holding a cardboard box and looking none too happy about it. “This is why I stick to paid romance gigs.” He shoved the box into Cal’s hands, piercing me with a look. “Get ready to be wood.” “Wooed,” Cal corrected with a frown. “Same difference.” Rhy shrugged. “There’s always wood involved for him when you’re around.” I punched his shoulder. Hard. “You are ruining my big moment, fucker.

As soon as he saw me, his frown melted into something else entirely. I loved that he looked at me in a way he never looked at anyone else. Like I wasn’t just a person but an experience.

So, that sounded very unhygienic.” Taylor sighed behind the door. “Still here, by the way. Really need those AirPods.” My eyes widened in alarm. He came back. We must’ve not heard him. “I will buy you three pairs of AirPods if you just fuck off!” Row growled into our kiss. “Third generation pro?” Taylor stressed. Little fucker. He sure knew an opportunity when he saw one. “Yes!” Taylor chuckled. “Deal.

oBITCHuary: This is bad. McMonster: Hey. You asked. oBITCHuary: Not the word. THIS. You and me. McMonster: Why? oBITCHuary: Because we’re utterly inevitable.

You let your past dictate your present. Which is why you have no future.” I reached to open the door for her. “Word to the wise—fight your own demons before helping other people slay theirs. Goodbye, Dot.

I want you to remember that every time you doubt yourself. That there’s a guy out there in the world who worships the ground you walk upon. That you marked him so thoroughly, he’ll never forget you.” I grabbed her hand and laced our fingers together. We both looked down, and she noticed the new tattoo on my inner forearm. Of a perfect, round dot. She closed her eyes, fighting tears.

Well, I’m no expert in love, but I think that if someone loves you the way you deserve to be loved, they could never get enough of you.

couldn’t let her do it. No matter how good this felt for my ego, I wasn’t going to deprive her of her princess moment. She deserved all the good moments after what that garbage human, Franco, had put her through. “No,” I blurted out. Her face paled, eyes flaring. “You can’t ask me to marry you.” Her brows furrowed. “I…can’t?” “No.” I lowered myself to one knee. “Because I get to ask you that first.” Now we were both on one knee on the floor in front of the entire fucking restaurant.

Maybe because I notice every fucking thing about you?” I blinked. One, two, five hundred times. He did? Row tilted his head upward, letting the rain pound on his face, a dark, humorless chuckle escaping him. “Fine. Want the truth? Here’s the truth: No, I didn’t ‘have feelings’ for you.” He air-quoted the words with a sneer. “I was in love with you. Honest to fucking God, full-blown, snatch-my-heart-out-and-let-you-use-it-as-a-stress-ball in love with you.” He looked disgusted with himself for uttering each word. “And you didn’t give half a shit about me.

Bedroom perfection. Arrogant prick. Every woman has that one guy she’d like to fuck. Well, he’s mine. In my fantasies, that is. However, I can’t deal with someone like him. He’s too confident. Too sexy. Too experienced. And he’ll see right through the fact that I’m deeply, truly, madly attracted to him, even though he’s absolutely not the kind of man I’d ever go for. Ever.

Not everything needs to be said, some things are just understood. Sometimes one’s eyes are enough to express hidden emotions. When two people are truly, madly and deeply in love each other, nature will conspire to bring them together.

reading is a private activity. A book fits a reader like tailored clothing.

truly, madly, deeply

Our love is the reason romance was created.

And all she knew was that she was deeply, truly, madly in love with him. Not

Fine. Want the truth? Here’s the truth: No, I didn’t ‘have feelings’ for you.” He air-quoted the words with a sneer. “I was in love with you. Honest to fucking God, full-blown, snatch-my-heart-out-and-let-you-use-it-as-a-stress-ball in love with you.” He looked disgusted with himself for uttering each word. “And you didn’t give half a shit about me.

I won, didn’t I?” I winked. “The Christmas gift competition? But, Dot, you’re my biggest win.” He kissed me long and deep, in a way every girl deserved to be kissed. Many times. By the boy she loved.

Is that the only reason you’re helping me?” “Isn’t it enough?” “It is. I’m just wondering if there’s something else.” “No,” he harrumphed. “Wait, yes. Now I remember—I also want to fuck you again.” I tripped over my own feet, about to dive into the ground. He caught me by the hem of my shirt, jerking me upright. I’ll always catch you. When have I ever let you take the hit for something, Dot? “You did not just say that.” I slapped branches out of my way as I regained my balance. “Did too. Fair warning—I want much more than fucking this time around. I want dates. I want laughs. I want you to be honest with me. All the stuff that freaks you out for some reason. No strings attached. No commitment. Just fun. A perfect do-over.” “Why do you need a do-over?” “So my last memory of us won’t be you almost vomiting because we had sex.” “I almost vomited because your sister caught us!” I shrieked. “Which is exactly why this won’t happen again. You’re high if you think I’m betraying her trust a second time around.” “Thought you’d say that. I have great news for you.” “What?” “She no longer gives a fuck.” “That’s not tru—” “It is. Ask her yourself.” The confidence with which he’d said that made my heart twist like Play-Doh. What had changed between then and now? Why was she okay with us hooking up all of a sudden? “Why wouldn’t she care?” I asked in a panic. “Because it no longer matters.” “How c—” “Come on, Bitchy. Put two and two together.” Bitchy. He’d called me Bitchy. The rain intensified, knocking on our faces. I skidded to an abrupt stop. A wave of memories crashed into me all at once, nearly knocking me down on my ass. Everything became crystal clear in one swift moment. Row defending me when Dylan caught us having sex. Row teaching me how to slow dance in his room before my very first prom because I knew I would be too terrified to ever dance with anyone else and didn’t want to miss out. Row and I sitting on the hood of his car, in front of an endless ocean, the moon, and the stars. Me saying, “Isn’t it beautiful?” and him answering, “Yes, you are.” Row being essentially in love with me. I couldn’t even touch the other revelation right now. It was too much to process. Bitchy. Bitchy. Bitchy. McMonster. Selfless, sweet McMonster. Who seemed to know me inside out. Who could read me like an open book. Could it be? But it couldn’t be. No. It couldn't. Not him. not the shinest boy in Staindrop. "No more running." I planted my feet on the pavement, clutching my knees, panting. Tears prickled the back of my eyeballs. Row looked on high alert. Neither of us seemed ready to acknowledge the fact that he was McMonster and I was Bitchy. For the first time since I'd known him, he looked like a boy. Not a heartthrob, not a world-famous chef, not a formidable boss-- just a boy.

The doormen reached her, about to wrangle her from my arms. I turned my chilly look their way. “Lay a hand on my girlfriend, and she will be the last thing you touch, since I’ll chop your fingers off with a cleaver.

wasn’t hoping to bump into Prince Charming. With my luck, I was more likely to bump into Ted Bundy.

In my dreams, I was someone else. Someone new.” “Ah, the irony.” He sat back, folding his arms. “In my dreams, you were you. Did Dream Row at least get some NC-17 action?” “There were a few notable moments.” I coyly collected my wet hair into a high bun. “One of them on a washing machine, even.” “Were they as traumatic as the real thing?” “I mean, in one of them I put a red shirt in a cycle full of whites.

Trump didn’t despise Obama. It was much, much stronger than that. I figured that Obama was the only person on the planet whom Trump actually envied—truly, madly, deeply. Air Force One, walking the carpet to deliver the State of the Union, the way Angela Merkel and other world leaders obviously admired and listened to Obama—it drove Trump out of his mind.

The possibility of failing scared me more than the prospect of succeeding thrilled me. I was a scaredy cat. I didn’t want to get hurt. Another opportunity didn’t come along. In fact, I was too scared to even apply to anything else. So I just took the job I thought I deserved and went along with it. If there is one thing I can guarantee to you—your dreams don’t wait around for you to get to them. That’s why it’s called chasing a dream. We keep running out of time. Don’t postpone for tomorrow what you can do today. You’re brilliant, passionate, and hardworking. Run after your dream, Callichka. Or you’ll never catch it.

Heaven was a place on Earth and it was Row Casablancas’s bed.