“To love means loving the unlovable. To forgive means pardoning the unpardonable. Faith means believing the unbelievable. Hope means hoping when everything seems hopeless.”
– G.K. Chesterton

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To Love Means Loving The Unlovable

“Don’t go looking for boys in the dark They will say pretty things then leave you with scars. Do go looking for boys in the park For that is where the true gentlemen are.”
– Anna Godbersen

“After all, damn it, what does being in love mean if you can’t trust a person.”
– Evelyn Waugh

“That’s when you know for sure somebody loves you. They figure out what you need and they give it to you — without you asking.”
– Adriana Trigiani

“I could never pretend something I didn’t feel. I could never make love if I didn’t love, and if I loved I could no more hide the fact than change the color of my eyes.”
– Marilyn Monroe

“And I can fight only for something that I love, love only what I respect, and respect only what I at least know.”
– Adolf Hitler

“Often it is the most deserving people who cannot help loving those who destroy them.”
– Hermann Hesse

“Love is where you find it. I think it is foolish to go around looking for it, and I think it can be poisonous. I wish that people who are conventionally supposed to love each other would say to each other, when they fight, ‘Please — a little less love, and a little more common decency’.”
– Kurt Vonnegut

“I feel good with my husband: I like his warmth and his bigness and his being-there and his making and his jokes and stories and what he reads and how he likes fishing and walks and pigs and foxes and little animals and is honest and not vain or fame-crazy and how he shows his gladness for what I cook him and joy for when I make him something, a poem or a cake, and how he is troubled when I am unhappy and wants to do anything so I can fight out my soul-battles and grow up with courage and a philosophical ease. I love his good smell and his body that fits with mine as if they were made in the same body-shop to do just that. What is only pieces, doled out here and there to this boy and that boy, that made me like pieces of them, is all jammed together in my husband. So I don’t want to look around any more: I don’t need to look around for anything.”
– Sylvia Plath