Lovesick Quotes

“Sometimes divulging your vulnerabilities without any kind of filter can make you more human, but then again, it can also provide material that can be used against you.”
― Tonya Hurley, Lovesick

“It is difficult to love someone who loves you, but easy to hate someone who loves you, and love someone who hates you.”
― Michael Bassey Johnson

“I guess I have a lot of emotion stored up. But it's nothing bad. It's love. It's just love rotting up inside of me . . . That's it . . . I have too much love, I think, and nobody to give it to.”
― Ottessa Moshfegh, Homesick for Another World

“Therefore, have done with this nonsense: you have no ground for hope: dismiss, at once, these hurtful thoughts and foolish wishes from your mind, and turn to your own duty, and the dull blank life that lies before you. You might have known such happiness was not for you.”
― Anne Brontë, Agnes Grey

“I wanted you, too. For so long. It was terrible. Sometimes I could barely eat- sorry, I know that sounds like the strangest thing. But for days I didn't feel hungry at all. I was... occupied. You took away all the other wanting from me.”
― Ava Reid, A Study in Drowning

“And yes, being lovesick is like being in mourning. Because you die, because your future dies and you with it...There is a hurting time. It lasts for so long. But it gets better. I know that now.”
― Nina George, The Little Paris Bookshop

“I write because he needs to know.”
― LeAnne Mechelle, Write like no one is reading 2

“As her lips changed the geometry,
Her smile turned to poetry.”
― Shashiraj Punjabi

“But she felt that she had to see him or she would die.”
― Iris Murdoch, The Nice and the Good

“I loved so much
so often, so hard
maybe that's why I feel
so all over the place”
― Dahi Tamara Koch, Within the event horizon: poetry & prose

“He leaned forward and began to count off on the fingers of the hand that held the cigarette: She aint American. She aint a citizen. She dont speak english. She works in a whorehouse. No, hear me out. And last but not least—he sat holding his thumb—there's a son of a bitch owns her outright that I guarangoddamntee you will kill you graveyard dead if you mess with him. Son, aint there no girls on this side of the damn river?

Not like her.

Well I'll bet that's the truth if you ever told it.”
― Cormac McCarthy, Cities of the Plain

“Azriel lingered near the door, quiet enough that when Feyre and Mor began talking about some of her paintings, Nesta went over to him.

'Why don't you sit?' She leaned against the doorway beside the shadow singer.

'My shadows don't like the flames so much.' A pretty lie. She'd seen Azriel before the fire plenty. But she looked at who sat close to it and knew the answer.

'Why did you come if it torments you so much?'

'Because Rhys wants me here. It'd hurt him if I didn't come.'

'Well, I think holidays are stupid.'

'I don't.'

She arched a brow. He explained, 'They pull people together. And bring them joy. They are a time to pause and reflect and gather, and those are never bad things.' Shadows darkened his eyes, full of enough pain that she couldn't stop herself from touching his shoulder. Letting him see that she understood why he stood in the doorway, why he wouldn't go near the fire.

His secret to tell, never hers.”
― Sarah J. Maas, A ​Court of Silver Flames

“I can't spend any more time pining after someone who doesn't belong to me.”
― Michelle Krys, Dead Girls Society

“Do you know I have lost my heart to you?” His voice rustled like starched silk when trampled upon. “I am losing my sleep as well. And when sleep does come, I dream only of you.” He murmured.”
― Mukta Singh-Zocchi, The Thugs & a Courtesan

“Do you think she'll change?"

"Hope nothing."

"Is there a cure?"

"Only art. Or more love."

"I should die of more love.”
― Iris Murdoch, The Nice and the Good

“I have to write.
I have to write and re-write myself in all that's hidden within me.
The unspoken heart is the place I need to travel to,
to rediscover the language that I had lost.

I felt and hoped myself empty in dreams that never belonged to me.
So how can I be with myself?

My heart struggled itself out of my body, lying shattered in pieces all over the places I've never been to and won't ever be, while my head is the only thing remaining, dethinking itself in all that hadn't been and won't ever be.”
― Dahi Tamara Koch, Within the event horizon: poetry & prose

“The wrong boy. But what did the heart care about that?”
― Cornelia Funke

“Algunas veces me decía a mí misma que tal vez se pasaba un día entero sin pensar ni un segundo en mí. Lo veía levantarse, tomarse el café, hablar, reír, como si yo no existiera. Ese desfase respecto a mi propia obsesión me llenaba de asombro.
¿Cómo era posible? Pero él mismo se habría quedado de una pieza al saber que yo no me lo quitaba de la cabeza en todo el día. No había motivo alguno para encontrar mi actitud más justa que la suya. En cierto sentido, yo tenía más suerte que él.
Cuando él telefoneaba para que nos viéramos, su tan esperada llamada no cambiaba nada, yo seguía con la misma dolorosa tensión de antes. Me hallaba en un estado en el que ni siquiera la realidad de su voz conseguía hacerme feliz. Todo era una carencia sin fin, salvo el momento en que estábamos juntos haciendo el amor. Y, aun así, me obsesionaba el momento que vendría a continuación, cuando se hubiera marchado. Vivía el placer como un dolor futuro.”
― Annie Ernaux

“I felt the nauseous shiver in my stomach—everything from rage to empathy to morning sickness—that I had grown used to and now thought of as being love.”
― Olivia Sudjic, Sympathy

“The maidservants all were in love with Southampton, in a rapt, unhoping way, like a tribe of poets in love with the moon; one would have a fit of tears, then it spread to another and another, until all the house heaved with love's calamity.”
― Sandra Newman, The Heavens

“ever since I met you
my heart cannot retire”
― Dahi Tamara Koch

“consciously
I misread myself
in you

I opened up
like a book

and innocence
turned the page

but you remain
the book of seven seals

unconsciously
tearing my pages apart”
― Dahi Tamara Koch, Within the event horizon: poetry & prose

“eyes like fairytales
you don't believe in”
― Dahi Tamara Koch, Within the event horizon: poetry & prose

“whenever you go
the heavens shed the tears
I'm not able to weep”
― Dahi Tamara Koch, Within the event horizon: poetry & prose

“the last words have been spoken
hanging over my head – the sword of Damocles
since the beginning of time

I will keep on weeping
over thoughts and over you
wandering about all of my rooms

your absence is all around me
and the silence is more frightening
then any sound has been before

too much is truth in those words:
that wonders are falsehood
and the days are gone, never to return”
― Dahi Tamara Koch, Within the event horizon: poetry & prose

“He descubierto de lo que uno puede ser capaz, que equivale a decir ser capaz de todo. De deseos sublimes o letales, de falta de dignidad, creencias y comportamientos que tildaba de insensatos en los demás, hasta que yo misma recurrí a ellos. Sin que él lo sospeche, me ha ligado más al mundo.”
― Annie Ernaux, Simple Passion

“You’re not in this alone, Leander. And you won’t be locked away forever. If I have to, I will kill every single person who dares stand between us.”
― Ashlyn Drewek, The Damnation of Leander Welles

“If you are surprised that […] I was wondering whether the man with whom I’d had sex *like* liked me, remember that being in love is blunt-force trauma. I was concussed with love for him. I bent my head to the cudgel”
― Kaliane Bradley, The Ministry of Time

“If you are surprised that […] I was wondering whether the man with whole I had sex with *liked* liked me, remember that being in love is a form of blunt-force trauma. I was concussed with love for him.”
― Kaliane Bradley, The Ministry of Time

“If you are surprised that […] I was wondering whether the man with whom I had sex with *liked* liked me, remember that being in love is a form of blunt-force trauma. I was concussed with love for him. I bent my head to the cudgel.”
― Kaliane Bradley, The Ministry of Time