Táešnim > Táešnim's Quotes

“If you can make a woman laugh, you can make her do anything.”
― Marilyn Monroe

“To die will be an awfully big adventure.”
― J.M. Barrie, Peter Pan

“Two people in love, alone, isolated from the world, that's beautiful.”
― Milan Kundera

“What's meant to be will always find a way”
― Trisha Yearwood

“I would always rather be happy than dignified.”
― Charlotte Brontë, Jane Eyre

“Hearts are made to be broken.”
― Oscar Wilde, De Profundis

“I love you like a fat kid loves cake!”
― Scott Adams

“If I can stop one heart from breaking, I shall not live in vain.”
― Emily Dickinson

“I would die for you. But I won't live for you.”
― Stephen Chbosky, The Perks of Being a Wallflower

“As he read, I fell in love the way you fall asleep: slowly, and then all at once.”
― John Green, The Fault in Our Stars

“One love, one heart, one destiny.”
― Robert Marley

“One day you will kiss a man you can't breathe without, and find that breath is of little consequence.”
― Karen Marie Moning, Bloodfever

“I love you. Remember. They cannot take it”
― Lauren Oliver, Delirium

“Never love anyone who treats you like you're ordinary.”
― Oscar Wilde

“Just because you're beautiful and perfect, it's made you conceited.”
― William Goldman, The Princess Bride

“You are my life now.”
― Stephenie Meyer, Twilight

“The only thing worse than a boy who hates you: a boy that loves you.”
― Markus Zusak, The Book Thief

“If you tell the truth, you don't have to remember anything.”
― Mark Twain

“I know hate is a strong word and everything, but its okay: we're teenagers.”
― Cecily von Ziegesar, You Know You Love Me

“You can't truly hate someone until you've cared about them. Until you've loved them.”
― Kirsten Hubbard, Like Mandarin

“Hate Poem

I hate you truly. Truly I do.
Everything about me hates everything about you.
The flick of my wrist hates you.
The way I hold my pencil hates you.
The sound made by my tiniest bones were they trapped
in the jaws of a moray eel hates you.
Each corpuscle singing in its capillary hates you.

Look out! Fore! I hate you.

The blue-green jewel of sock lint I’m digging
from under by third toenail, left foot, hates you.
The history of this keychain hates you.
My sigh in the background as you explain relational databases
hates you.
The goldfish of my genius hates you.
My aorta hates you. Also my ancestors.

A closed window is both a closed window and an obvious
symbol of how I hate you.

My voice curt as a hairshirt: hate.
My hesitation when you invite me for a drive: hate.
My pleasant “good morning”: hate.
You know how when I’m sleepy I nuzzle my head
under your arm? Hate.
The whites of my target-eyes articulate hate. My wit
practices it.
My breasts relaxing in their holster from morning
to night hate you.
Layers of hate, a parfait.
Hours after our latest row, brandishing the sharp glee of hate,
I dissect you cell by cell, so that I might hate each one
individually and at leisure.
My lungs, duplicitous twins, expand with the utter validity
of my hate, which can never have enough of you,
Breathlessly, like two idealists in a broken submarine.”
― Julie Sheehan

“You hate someone whom you really wish to love, but whom you cannot love. Perhaps he himself prevents you. That is a disguised form of love.”
― Sri Chinmoy

“ليس وطني دائماً على حق. ولكنني لا استطيع ان امارس حقاً حقيقياً الا في وطني .”
― محمود درويش