Showing posts with label Love. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Love. Show all posts

February 11, 2014

#565

"Having Sex" is an intimate and sacred process of connection with each other.

It's all in the intention of how you do it. If you're intention is to make love, then that is what you will do for each other. If your intention is to get rowdy and have fun, then that is what you'll do. If your intention is to meet your physical desire at the expense of another, that is what you will do.

All too often, people unknowingly choose this last option and it results in varying degrees of pain on both sides. But, with an open heart and open communication and intention, sex can be the most beautiful thing in the world...


December 18, 2013

#560









Certain things in life simply have to be experienced - and never explained. Love is such a thing.

Paolo Coehlo

#559





As I began to love myself, I freed myself of anything that is no good for my health - food, people, things, situations, and everything that drew me down and away from myself. At first I called this attitude a healthy egoism. Today I know it is LOVE OF ONESELF.

Charlie Chaplin

August 28, 2013

#541



Perhaps we always fall in love the very first time we see the man of our dreams, even though, at the time, reason may be telling otherwise, and we may fight against that instinct, hoping against hope that we won't win, until there comes a point when we allow ourselves to be vanquished by our feelings...

August 27, 2013

#539





In love, no one can harm anyone else; we are each responsible for our own feelings and cannot blame someone else for what we feel

#536







The wise are wise only because they love. The fool are fools only because they think they can understand love

#534








No reason is needed for loving

January 17, 2013

#516









Love is wanting to do something for the other without the slightest expectation of anything in return.

January 16, 2013

#502





I teach a different kind of love. It does not end in friendship but begins in friendship. It begins in silence, in awareness. It is a love which is your own creation, which is not blind. Such a love can last forever, can go on growing deeper and deeper. Such a love is immensely sensitive. In this kind of relationship one starts feeling the need of the other person even before the other person has spoken. Energies can relate directly without language. Such a love needs nothing from the other. It is more than any sexual orgasm can give — two energies melting.

#500

Anybody who rises in love never falls from it, because rising is your effort, and the love that is grown through your effort is within your hands. But falling in love is not your effort. Rising in love is something spiritual. Falling in love is something biological. 

Love should come out of your silence, awareness, meditativeness. It is soft, it is unbinding — because how can love create fetters for the one who is loved? It is giving freedom to each other, more and more. As the love grows deeper, freedom becomes bigger. As the love grows deeper, you start accepting the person as he is. You stop trying to change the person.


#499



Rising in love means a learning, a changing, a maturity. Rising in love ultimately helps you to become grown-up. And two grown-up persons don’t quarrel; they try to understand, they try to solve any problem.

January 13, 2013

#491





The more you possess, the less you can love. And love is the door. Or, the less you can love, the more you start possessing things. Things become a substitute. People who can’t love will always become misers: possessive, accumulators of things.

#490






Religion has nothing to do with churches and temples and rituals: religion is born only when somebody pulsates with love

January 12, 2013

#480

Love is the gold of the Earth
There is so much to love on our planet
There is so much to love about people
There is so much to love about yourself
And you have barely come close
And this self love has nothing to do with ego
It has nothing to do with a perception of why you should be loved
Or whether you deserve to be loved
This self love is a pure remembrance that everything is love
There is no division – There is no division from source – Any perceived division is illusion
You are everything
And when you remember this, everything and anything is possible

#477










Love said to me, there is nothing that is not me

January 6, 2013

#447





The moment you just let go and just be you, you see how perfect it is. This is the perfection of form. That's what loving yourself does. It perfects your form. It is the perfection of survival. You can't feel good in the world if you're always afraid you're going to die. You can't feel good in the world where every moment you're worried about what you're going to eat. The moment that you're correct within yourself, all of that is there. It's just there. It's all given. It's all around

January 5, 2013

#435




Love is always patient and kind. It is never jealous. Love is never boastful or conceited. It is never rude or selfish. It does not take offense and is not resentful. Love takes no pleasure in other people’s sins, but delights in the truth. It is always ready to excuse, to trust, to hope, and to endure whatever comes

#434










One is loved because one is loved. No reason is needed for loving

#432



To love at all is to be vulnerable. Love anything and your heart will be wrung and possibly broken. If you want to make sure of keeping it intact you must give it to no one, not even an animal. Wrap it carefully round with hobbies and little luxuries; avoid all entanglements. Lock it up safe in the casket or coffin of your selfishness. But in that casket, safe, dark, motionless, airless, it will change. It will not be broken; it will become unbreakable, impenetrable, irredeemable. To love is to be vulnerable

January 4, 2013

#425






I love you without knowing how, or when, or from where. I love you simply, without problems or pride: I love you in this way because I do not know any other way of loving but this, in which there is no I or you, so intimate that your hand upon my chest is my hand, so intimate that when I fall asleep your eyes close

Pablo Neruda