Quotes & Sayings About Confession Of Love

I like you so much I don't know what to do with it. My heart beats so fast when I know I'm going to see you again. — Jenny Han

He wanted to tell her that all at once he fell madly in love with everything about her, the way she kissed, the taste of her lips, her voice, her smell, her nearness ... but such a premature confession at this point could make her suspicious of his intelligence. From The Cartesian Machine — Nick Tran

The act of love ... is a confession. Selfishness screams aloud, vanity shows off, or else true generosity reveals itself. — Albert Camus

Love is like that. I could crush her beneath the weight of confession. — Ellen Hopkins

People who only love once in their lives are really shallow people. What they call their loyalty, and their fidelity, I call either the lethargy of custom or the lack of imagination. Faithlessness is to the emotional life what consistency is to the intellectual life, - simply a confession of failure. — Oscar Wilde

Then he told her, in the quiet tones of someone offloading a confession, that she was the most mazing women he had ever met. And when she lifted her swollen eyes to his, Ed mopped her bleeding nose, and he dropped his lips gently onto hers, and he did what he had wanted to do for the past forty-eight hours, even if he had been initially too dumb to know it, He kissed her. — Jojo Moyes

Confession: Imagine if love, not law, was the standard by which we learned to examine ourselves and confess our sins against God, neighbor, and the earth we share. Imagine if each week we were guided into the kind of self-examination that helped us name and turn from our unloving acts in recent days. And imagine if, along with confessing our sins, we confessed or named our hurts, the places where others have wounded us, so that we could process our pain and then respond in a way that doesn't give in to resentment or revenge. — Brian McLaren

It's just that I love you so much, and -'
'Belle, please.'
'Please what? Please don't tell you I love you? Please don't love you?'
'I can't accept it, Belle.'
...
'How can I possibly let myself continue to love a man who can never love me back?'
'But Belle,' he whispered. 'I do love you.'
John wasn't certain how he expected her to respond, but it was certainly not in the manner she did. She stepped back as if hit ... 'No,' she finally gasped. 'No. Don't say that. Don't tell me that.' ... 'You can't do that,' she said, each word a hoarse little stab of pain. 'You're not allowed. You can't say that and not let me do the same. It isn't fair. — Julia Quinn

She tried to think of what to say to make it all better again, or at least the way it was before she'd made her confession, though she didn't regret having confessed. Perhaps that was what had been wrong with her all along. Now that the lie wasn't between them anymore, maybe she could love him again. — Cheryl Strayed

A kiss! When all is said, what is a kiss? An oath of allegiance taken in closer proximity, a promise more precise, a seal on a confession, a rose-red dot upon the letter i in loving; a secret which elects the mouth for ear; an instant of eternity murmuring like a bee; balmy communion with a flavor of flowers; a fashion of inhaling each other's hearts, and of tasting, on the brink of the lips, each other's soul! — Edmond Rostand

When we love others, we naturally want to talk about them, we want to show them off, like emotional trophies. We invest them with a power to do to others what they do to us; a vain hope, as the lovers of others are rarely of much interest to us. But we listen in patience, as friends must, and as Isabel now did, refraining from comment, other than to encourage the release of the story and the attendant confession of human frailty and hope. — Alexander McCall Smith

I can't make flowery speeches," Sir Kai began, "and I wouldn't even if I could. I won't whimper at your feet like these callow puppies that call themselves knights these days, and I don't write poetry or play the damned rebec. I don't intend to change my manners or my way of life, but if you'll have me, Connoire, I'd be obliged if you'd marry me."
The incredulous silence that struck the watching crowd was so profound that Piers could hear the peep of a chickadee in the distant forest. Lady Connoire's expression did not change. Taking a deep breath, she said, "I don't like flowery speeches, and if you ever make one to me, I'll just laugh at you. I despise simpering poems, I hate the squealing of a rebec, and we'll see whether you'll change your manners or not. I'll marry you. — Gerald Morris

He was my comfort. He was my solace. Nearly everything I had faced in my young life, I had gotten through because of him, because he was always there for me, with soft words and a tender heart.
-Kiera Allen — S.C. Stephens

I longed that those who, I have reason to think, owe me ill will, might be eternally happy. It seemed refreshing to think of meeting them in heaven, how much soever they had injured me on earth: had no disposition to insist upon any confession from them, in order to reconciliation, and the exercise of love and kindness to them. Oh! it is an emblem of heaven itself, to love all the world with a love of kindness, forgiveness, and benevolence ... — David Brainerd

Confession of effort chafes against the notion that empathy should always rise unbidden, that genuine means the same thing as unwilled, that intentionality is the enemy of love. But I believe in intention and I believe in work. I believe in waking up in the middle of the night and packing our bags and leaving our worst selves for our better ones. — Leslie Jamison

What is art? ( ... ) Like a declaration of love: the consciousness of our dependence on each other. A confession. An unconscious act that none the less reflects the true meaning of life - love and sacrifice. — Andrei Tarkovsky

The act of love, for instance, is a confession. — Albert Camus

We fell silent and all joking ceased. We gazed mutely into each other's eyes and an intense longing for the fullest avowal of the truth forced us to a confession, requiring no words whatever, or the incommensurable misfortune that weighed upon us. With tears and sobs we sealed a vow to belong to each other alone. — Frederic Chopin

I thought it was over, all I could think was I never told you I love you. What an idiot. — Nora Roberts

Because you offer something ever rarer than power of aphidy. You offer something that few other Queens offer-love. You bestow love on all you take under your care. And intimate love to only a few. I saw it once in your eyes for me, and I want to see it again. I need to, as much as I need to breathe air. Mona Lisa, this one thing-love-you have still to give. Don not deny me. Not when my soul needs you, cries out for you. — Sunny

When the main characters meet, you're filled with this warm hopeful glow, ya know? And we laugh, sometimes till there's tears, because of all the little embarrassing situations they find themselves in trying to get together. And then there's this romantic confession of love, and your're elated because they're finally together. And they should be. You know this. And even though it was completely predictable, you cry. I cry. — Victoria Van Tiem

You have made us to be free,
But we crave the cheap comforts of our chains.
You have made us to serve others,
But we have eyes only for ourselves.
You have made us to love,
But we are inflamed with lust.
You provide, that we may be generous,
But we greedily hoard as if your well will run dry.
You forgive time and again,
But we hold fast to the sins of others.
You offer light for our path,
But we insist on making our own way.
You are the God who saves.
Lord, save us from ourselves. In your great mercy, restore and heal us, and grant us your peace. — Ecclesia Catholica

I must go, uncertain of my fate; but I shall return hither, or follow your party, as soon as possible. A word, a look will be enough to decide whether I enter your father's house tonight or never. — Jane Austen

According to Maximus the Confessor in "One Hundred Chapters of Love", the key to directing and increasing one's desire for God is the acquisition of the virtues-which, you'll recall, we described above as noncognitive "dispositions" acquired through practices. So how does one acquire such virtues, such dispositions of desire? Through participation in concrete Christian practices like confession. — James K.A. Smith

Why can't you say it?" I hardened my voice. "Because I'm telling you, you never have. I'd have remembered."
He stared at me with disbelief. [ ... ]
"Love you? Of course I love you. Baby, I fucking worship you. — Josh Lanyon

. . .our whispered words, faintly in the darkness, dissolving
within the trees - then, fleeting words of consolation
would not suffice if feigned, and flippant words
confessed reluctance - our words
were meaningless uttered on the wind. . . — John Daniel Thieme

How much blunter can I be, Sehun? After tonight, it should be pretty obvious."

"What should be pretty obvious?"

"Don't play coy."

"Kai - "

"I want you, Sehun. How many times should I tell you that?" he cupped Sehun's cheek, staring into his eyes. "And I'd go through every bit of what I went through tonight again if it were for you. — Hyperionova

Actions punishable by jail sentences are not the only crimes. If we knew the antonym of crime, I think we would know its true nature. God ... salvation ... love ... light. But for God there is the antonym Satan, for salvation there is perdition, for love there is hate, for light there is darkness, for good, evil. Crime and prayer? Crime and repentance? Crime and confession? Crime and ... no, they're all synonymous. What is the opposite of crime? — Osamu Dazai

With you, it's... I don't even know how to say it. It's like you're a work of art. Every time I'm with you, I see something new. Something beautiful. — Lisa Brown Roberts

DON Luigi Giussani used to quote this example from Bruce Marshall's novel To Every Man a Penny. The protagonist of the novel, the abbot Father Gaston, needs to hear the confession of a young German soldier whom the French partisans are about to sentence to death. The soldier confesses his love of women and the numerous amorous adventures he has had. The young priest explains that he has to repent to obtain forgiveness and absolution. The soldier answers, "How can I repent? It was something that I enjoyed, and if I had the chance I would do it again, even now. How can I repent?" Father Gaston, who wants to absolve the man who has been marked by destiny and who's about to die, has a stroke of inspiration and asks, "But are you sorry that you are not sorry?" The young man answers impulsively, "Yes, I am sorry that I am not sorry." In other words, he apologizes for not repenting. The door was opened just a crack, allowing absolution to come in ... . — Pope Francis

I have a confession."
"Oh?"
"I can't get you off my mind."
His statement robbed her of words. Heat spread down the nape of her neck. He was saying too much. ~Thomas to Chelise — Ted Dekker

Guilt must not be allowed to fester in the silence of the soul, poisoning it from within. It needs to be confessed. Through confession we bring it into the light, we place it within Christ's purifying love. In confession, the Lord washes our soiled feet over and over again and prepares us for table fellowship with him. — Pope Benedict XVI

I love you."
I stared stupidly at him. Was he joking again, reciting another line from my story? I didn't remember writing this.
He leaned in and kissed me. I didn't respond for a few seconds. My mind lagged behind what my body was feeling.
"Say it," he whispered against my lips. "I know this is hard for you. Tell me."
"I love you." Hearing my own words, I gasped at the rush of emotion.
He put his hands on either side of my jaw and took my mouth with his. — Jennifer Echols

The people who love only once in their lives are really the shallow people. What they call their loyalty, and their fidelity, I call either the lethargy of custom or their lack of imagination. Faithfulness is to the emotional life what consistency is to the life of the intellect - simply a confession of failure. — Oscar Wilde

I head someone say once that passionate people live violent lives. At the time I didn't really get it but if what they meant was the way love waits in ambush traps your well trained sense of control and tortures you into a confession you'd just as soon not make I now understand. — Jay Kopelman

I love you, Louise Downe McCord. You drive me absolutely crazy sometimes, and this is one of those times, but I love you. — Maggie Osborne

Attraction, confession, unison and finally the real face of it all. I wonder why do people go blind in love and come to their senses only when it's too late! — Shilpa Sandesh

The desperate violence of the way he held her, the hurting pressure of his mouth on hers, the exultant surrender of his body to the touch of hers, were not the form of a moment's pleasure - she knew that no physical hunger could bring a man to this - she knew that it was the statement she had never heard from him, the greatest confession of love a man could make. — Ayn Rand

I have a confession to make. I don't really want to know. I like a happy ending as well as the next person, but I love the mystery and the uncertainty and the electric current of possibility. There's a reason the best love stories end at the first kiss. Jane Austen had this down; it's all about the chase. We're not really interested in Elizabeth and Darcy after the wedding bells fade, or in Cinderella and her prince after the slipper is returned. — Sophie Blackall

It must be the full confession by Christendom of Christendom's specific contribution to the sum of human cruelty and treachery. — C.S. Lewis

10 August, 1939

Confession: I am nineteen years old, and I've been kissed many times. But I've never been kissed like that.

It felt like drowning but not needing to breathe. Like falling but never hitting the ground. Even now, my hands are shaking, and my heart is so swollen and fat it feels like it's going to burst, or I'm going to burst. I want to cry. I want to laugh. I want to bury my head in my pillow and scream until I fall asleep, because maybe when I go to sleep I can relive it.
I can't believe it happened, yet I think I've been waiting for it to happen for the last seven years, ever since I conned Angelo into kissing me the first time. I've been waiting for him for so long, and for a couple of hours tonight, in a little world that was only big enough for the two of us, he was mine.
But I don't know if I will be able to keep him. I'm afraid when tomorrow comes, I'll be waiting for him again.
Eva Rosselli — Amy Harmon

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! — Faraaz Kazi

Love? Yes, God loves us. But his love is passionate and seeks faithful, committed love in return. God does not want tame pets to fondle and feed; he wants mature, free people who will respond to him in authentic individuality. For that to happen there must be honesty and truth. The self must be toppled from its pedestal. There must be pure hearts and clear intelligence, confession of sin and commitment in faith. — Eugene H. Peterson

I love you," he says, still meeting Harry's eyes, "and it took me a while to get here, but I think that maybe I've always loved you. But you wanna know the other thing that I know for sure? Besides the fact that I love you?"
(...)
"I'm always going to love you," Louis says, tucking some of Harry's hair behind his ear. "No matter what. — Whoknows

You didn't want to put in the work to make us happen.
It was true. I had been so captivated by Duncan, so enamored, so infatuated, that I let his life drown mine for two years. I went along, and when I got tired of it, tired of it just being easy and comfortable and convenient but not love, I ended it. And that was why I had the man in my lobby looking at me like there were still places for us to go.
I had let him believe that he was my whole world, let him be everything, and then one day just stopped loving him and walked away. It was something I did, something I had always done - poured on the charm, made myself into the ideal partner, lover, friend, indispensable and irreplaceable, and then, when I got bored or tired or tapped out, instead of fighting, I just quit. It was wildly unfair, and the only people I didn't do it with were my family. Even my friends complained that I was always around and then just gone.
Nathan Qells — Mary Calmes

In the Code of Canon Law, it states clearly: 'A person who is conscious of grave sin is not to celebrate Mass or receive the body of the Lord without previous sacramental confession.' I haven't attended confession in well over a decade, and that's less because of dogmatic conflict than it is because of moral cowardice. Deeper than that, maybe I don't want to be forgiven. I want to be punished. Which may be just about the most selfish, egotistical thought I've ever had. I'm sick with self-love. Or self-loathing. After all, they're both essentially the same thing. — Phillip Andrew Bennett Low

Remember after every autumn, the flora senses the rapturous kiss of cheerful spring.
(Book-Love Vs Destiny) — Atul Purohit

The act of love is a confession. — Albert Camus

I love you," she said wretchedly. "And if I were well, no power on earth could keep me away from you. If I were well, I would take you to my bed, and I would show you as much passion as any woman could. — Lisa Kleypas

Those who tread these paths should be informed of a matter respecting their confession in which they are apt to err. When they begin to give an account of their sins, instead of the regret and contrition they had been accustomed to feel, they find that love and tranquility sweetly pervade and take possession of their souls: now those who are not properly instructed are desirous of withdrawing from this sensation to form an act of contrition, because they have heard, and with truth, that it is requisite: but they are not aware that they lose thereby the genuine contrition, which is this Intuitive Love, infinitely surpassing any effect produced by self-exertion ... Be not then troubled about other things when God acts so excellently in you and for you. — Jeanne Marie Bouvier De La Motte Guyon

If every marriage placed value on holiness, the following would be present: Confession and ownership of the problems in each individual A relentless drive toward growth and development A giving up of everything that gets in the way of love A surrendering of everything that gets in the way of truth A purity of heart where nothing toxic is allowed to grow This would be — Henry Cloud

Confession is a difficult Discipline for us because we all too often view the believing community as a fellowship of saints before we see it as a fellowship of sinners. We feel that everyone else has advanced so far into holiness that we are isolated and alone in our sin. We cannot bear to reveal our failures and shortcomings to others. We imagine that we are the only ones who have not stepped onto the high road to heaven. Therefore, we hide ourselves from one another and live in veiled lies and hypocrisy.
But if we know that the people of God are first a fellowship of sinners, we are freed to hear the unconditional call of God's love and to confess our needs openly before our brothers and sisters. We know we are not alone in our sin. The fear and pride that cling to us like barnacles cling to others also. We are sinners together. In acts of mutual confession we release the power that heals. Our humanity is no longer denied, but transformed. — Richard J. Foster

I also finally see that a crimson kiss isn't something you can chase, because it's more than just the passionate meeting of mouths.
It's a confession.
It's the truth your lips whisper to someone you love. — Wendelin Van Draanen

Let me begin with a heartfelt confession.
I admit it. I am a biblioholic, one who loves books and whose life would seem incomplete without them. I am an addict, with a compulsive need to stop by nearly any bookstore I pass in order to get my fix. Books are an essential part of my life, the place where I have spent many unforgettable moments. For me, reading is one of the most enjoyable ways to pass a rainy afternoon or a leisurely summer day. I crave the knowledge and insights that truly great books bring into my life and can spend transported hours scouring used book stores for volumes which "I simply must have". I love the smell and feel of well-loved books and the look of a bookcase full of books waiting to be taken down and read. — Terry W. Glaspey

And sometimes when I tilt my head,
in that deep sleep, I realize I forgot to tell you
what happened at work, in the thick of,
all other rubbish daily stuff.
And then I hate to believe, it's more than
5 hours to hit the snooze, and now suddenly
the night seems longer- than any lazy afternoon.
I want to talk to you now, before I forget
How I have imagined you will react, word by word,
And act by act.
But I kind of manage dozing off in a few minutes,
And I clearly forget it morning,
This entire instance.

But tonight- when you are asleep, and I am
Wide awake like a snake, I don't say I forgot any
Buzz to discuss, but I have this insane gush
Of words of tell you I how much I have loved you through.
Precisely none of this should be forgotten,
So I decide to write this poem and tell you,
I am so much in my moment of truth. — Jasleen Kaur Gumber

How shall I get through the months or years of my future life, in company with that man
my greatest enemy
for none could injure me as he has done? Oh! when I think how fondly, how foolishly I have loved him, how madly I have trusted him, how constantly I have laboured, and studied, and prayed, and struggled for his advantage, and how cruelly he has trampled on my love, betrayed my trust, scorned my prayers and tears, and efforts for his preservation
crushed my hopes, destroyed my youth's best feelings, and doomed me to a life of hopeless misery
as far as man can do it
it is not enough to say that I no longer love my husband
I HATE him! The word stares me in the face like a guilty confession, but it is true: I hate him
I hate him! — Anne Bronte

Concert pianists get to be quite chummy with dead composers. They can't help it. Classical music isn't just music. It's a personal diary. An uncensored confession in the dead of night. A baring of the soul. Take a modern example. Florence and the Machine? In the song 'Cosmic Love,' she catalogs the way in which the world has gone dark, distorting her, when she, a rather intense young woman, was left bereft by a love affair. 'The stars, the moon, they have all been blown out. — Marisha Pessl

Vanity, or to call it by a gentler name, the desire of admiration and applause, is, perhaps, the most universal principle of humanactions ... Where that desire is wanting, we are apt to be indifferent, listless, indolent, and inert ... I will own to you, under the secrecy of confession, that my vanity has very often made me take great pains to make many a woman in love with me, if I could, for whose person I would not have given a pinch of snuff. — Lord Chesterfield

I loved Emma.' The words, so flat and final, explode into the air. 'But she lied to me. I thought perhaps I could have the love without the lies. With you, I mean. Do you remember your application letter? How you talked about integrity and honesty and trust? That was what made me think it might work, that it might be better this time. But I've never loved you the way I loved her. — J.P. Delaney

It would be easier to forget you," he says to me, "and these past few weeks we've had together. It would be easier if I could hate you. But the sad truth is, I will more than likely love you for the rest of my life. — Amy Ewing

My dear boy, the people who love only once in their lives are really the shallow people. What they call their loyalty, and their fidelity, I call either the lethargy of custom or their lack of imagination.. Faithfulness is to the emotional life what consistency is to the life of the intellect
simply a confession of failures. Faithfulness! I must analyse it some day. The passion for property is in it. There are many things that we would throw away if we were not afraid that others might pick them up. But I don't want to interrupt you. Go on with your story. — Oscar Wilde

You love Roth," he continued for me."You're in love with him."
My eyes met his bright blue ones."Yes," I whispered, my lower lip trembling."It's him. It's always been him. — Jennifer L. Armentrout

I say, 'But he does not have you,' and I kiss her through the orchard gate.
It's a kiss I have longed to take. A kiss that gently tugs at Astrid's seething power, at the wildness inside both of us. It's sweet and feels like a confession: I love her. — Tessa Gratton

I have a confession to make. The love affair of my life has been with the Greek language. I have now reached the age when it has occurred to me that I may have read some books for the last time. I suddenly thought that there are books I cannot bear not to read again before I die. One that stands out a mile is Homer's Iliad. — William Golding

Then he just blurted it out, with no preparation. 'The truth of it is that whether your mother arranged our marriage, or whether it was all an illusion, I must be horribly obtuse, because I can't talk myself out of being in love with you. — Eloisa James

I don't know. I don't know, Jess," he said as a sob shuddered through him. "Because I am a damned fool. Fuck! I
have everything I want right in front of me, I love you so damned much I can't think straight, and then it's like ... I don't
know, like I'm so afraid of losing you, that I keep pushing you away so maybe I'll stop caring as much and then it won't hurt as bad if I do lose you. It's so fucking twisted even I don't understand it. — M.L. Rhodes

A hug is a display of love that begins on the physical end of the spectrum but bleeds into the emotional end of the spectrum if you let it, if you give into it. It's the most innocent, pure form of physical human connection there is. It only takes two willing people, who don't even have to know each other, to participate. Two willing people who want that exchange. It's so easy, but there are people who never get them. People who never get them," she repeats softly, it's a confession. — Kim Holden

Before I could reply, he had picked me up, literally swept me off my feet, and kissed me. And afterwards, when I tried to speak, he silenced me in much the same manner. It was a shock (but not at all distasteful) to be so caught up. Later - when he at last set me down - he handled me more gently. He took of my glasses and told me that he loved me. — Jennifer Paynter

I like being able to wake up with you. I like knowing you'll be there if I need you," he continued, obviously uncomfortable with what he was saying but refusing to be deterred now that he'd begun. "I like being with you, Zane. And I'd like to keep that up now that you're here," he admitted shakily. He met Zane's eyes determinedly. "I want you. — Madeleine Urban

Nothing in this world is hidden forever. The gold which has lain for centuries unsuspected in the ground, reveals itself one day on the surface. Sand turns traitor, and betrays the footstep that has passed over it; water gives back to the tell-tale surface the body that has been drowned. Fire itself leaves the confession, in ashes, of the substance consumed in it. Hate breaks its prison-secrecy in the thoughts, through the doorway of the eyes; and Love finds the Judas who betrays it by a kiss. Look where we will, the inevitable law of revelation is one of the laws of nature: the lasting preservation of a secret is a miracle which the world has never yet seen. — Wilkie Collins

Saturday, May 22d.---It is now Saturday night, and I must prepare for the holy Sabbath. My Bible and Confession of Faith are my traveling companions, and precious friends have they been to me. I bless God for that glorious summary of Christian doctrine contained in our noble standards. It has cheered my soul in many a dark hour, and sustained me in many a desponding moment. I love to read it, and ponder carefully each proof text as I pass along. — James Henley Thornwell

Then know this. Between and beneath and beyond anything else i may be, i am yours. I will never leave you. never forsake you. You may rely upon sun to rise and moon to fall. For you are the heart of me. — Jay Kristoff

My dear boy, the people who only love once in their lives are really the shallow people. What they call their loyalty, and their fidelity, I call either the lethargy of custom or their lack of imagination. Faithfulness is to the emotional life what consistency is to the life of the intellect - simply a confession of failures. — Oscar Wilde

Cold were the lips, yet he kissed them. Salt was the honey of the hair, yet he tasted it with a bitter joy. He kissed the closed eyelids, and the wild spray that lay upon their cups was less salt than his tears.
And to the dead thing he made confession. Into the shells of its ears he poured the harsh wine of his tale. He put the little hands round his neck, and with his fingers he touched the thin reed of the throat. Bitter, bitter was his joy, and full of strange gladness was his pain. — Oscar Wilde

I love the ending of a movie where two people end up together. Preferably if there's rain and an airport or running or a confession of love. — Taylor Swift

When I opened a book now, I was seized with desperation. I felt as if I was madly in love. It was as if I were in a confession booth and the characters in the book were on the other side telling me their most intimate secrets. When I read, I was a philosopher and it was up to me to figure out the meaning of things. Reading made me feel as if I were the center of the universe. — Heather O'Neill

I need to capture my sprite with trembling hands. Except I could crush her. Wonder how many small things of beauty - flowers, seashells, dragonflies - have met such a demise. Wonder how much fragile love has collapsed beneath the weight of confession. — Ellen Hopkins

So what do you have to confess now?"
I don't know why I'm saying any of this, except that is the truth.
"I'm confessing that I don't know if I'm ready for this."
"What is 'this'?"
"Being open. Being hurt. Liking. Not being liked. Seeing the flicker on. Seeing the flicker off. Leaping. Falling. Crashing. — David Levithan

Finally, it is wrong to say that "nothing" is more basic to the identity of the church than suffering. Nothing is more basic to the identity of the institutional church than the preaching of the gospel, the correct administration of the sacraments, and the worship of God in Spirit and in truth (Westminster Confession of Faith, 25.4). Nothing is more basic to the identity of the individual Christian than faith, hope, obedience, and love, the fruit of the Spirit (cf. 1 Cor. 13:4-13; Gal. 5:22-24; 1 John 2:3; 3:10, 24; 4:7-21; 5:1-3). — Keith A. Mathison

Wrong Question: How to love?
Right Question: Why am I afraid to love?
Wrong Question: Why do you love me?
Right Question: Do I love myself as much as you do?
Wrong Question: Why does love hurt?
Right Question: Why do I live in fantasies and expect so much without really giving anything back?
Wrong Question: What will you do for me?
Right Question: Am I capable of making your life more beautiful?
Wrong interpretation: Let's be practical.
Right interpretation: Let's be wild and unconditional in our love without pretending.
Wrong Confession: I want love in life.
Right Confession: I am lonely and I will start by being friendly with myself first.
Wrong Advice: Mind and Thoughts
Right Advice: Heart — Saurabh Sharma

Lysley Tenorio is a writer of sly wit and lively invention - these are stories bursting with wonders (from monster movies and leper colonies, to faith-healers and superheroes) - but most wondrous of all is his intimate sense of character. Each story is a confession of love betrayed, told with a mournful, austere tenderness as heartbreaking as it is breathtaking. — Peter Ho Davies

Love can be expressed in a myriad of different methods, but the most timeless and most treasured will always remain the classic love letter. — Auliq Ice

Do not be afraid of Confession! One who is in line to confess himself feels all these things - even shame - but then, when he finishes confessing, he leaves free, great, beautiful, forgiven, [ ... ] happy. And this is the beauty of Confession ... Jesus is there ... and He receives you with so much love. — Pope Francis

After listening to modern tirades against the great creeds of the Church, one receives a shock when one turns to the Westminster Confession ... and discovers that in doing so one has turned from shallow modern phrases to a "dead orthodoxy" that is pulsating with life in every word. In such orthodoxy there is life enough to set the whole world aglow with Christian love. — John Gresham Machen

Prayer is an act of worship. Prayer is act of submission. Prayer is act of obedience. But prayer is also an act of admission. Every instance of prayer is a confession in which I own my condition and embrace my need ... To reduce prayer to a grocery list of things you ant and think you need not only demeans prayer, but it also demeans the sacrifice of love that the One to whom you are praying made so that you and your prayers would be received. The heart of true prayer is vertical confession, not horizontal desire. — Paul David Tripp