Quotes & Sayings About January Love

I killed my ex lovers
and buried to my memories' grave.
It is January
And I am tired of being brave. — Arzum Uzun

A hundred years or more, she's bent her crown
in storm, in sun, in moonsplashed midnight breeze.
surviving all the random vagaries
of this harsh world. A dense - twigged veil drifts down
from crown along her trunk - mourning slow wood
that rustles tattered, in a hint of wind
this January dusk, cloudy, purpling
the ground with sudden shadows.
How she broods -
you speculate - on dark surprise and loss,
alone these many years, despondent, bent,
her bolt-cracked mate transformed to splinters, moss.
Though not alone, you feel the sadness of a
twilight breeze. There's never enough love;
the widow nods to you. Her branches moan. — Lauren Lipton

Is it not true that what we call "nature" in a cosmic sense has its origin in "a plan of love and truth"? (Message for the Celebration of the World Day of Peace. 1 January, 2010) — Pope Benedict XVI

February 2009
January 4. January 4. January 4. I rubbed the paper on my red calendar. I cried into the little box, into the last day we had sex.
I was a tornado. I puked hurricanes.
I was Jodi Arias. There were no more tears for him.
Swirling eddies of vodka, pills, fattening food, and tears. Vortexes corralled other vortexes. They joined forces with the eyes of other storms far out into the Gulf, and Atlantic, and castrated my heart first, then everything below the neck. Fuck the heart; my brain was mauled into mush. He didn't have a heart - and possibly, neither did I. The heart had nothing to do with a whirlpool of circles and left and rights I navigated. — Christy Heron

I do not love you except because I love you;
I go from loving to not loving you,
From waiting to not waiting for you
My heart moves from cold to fire.
I love you only because it's you the one I love;
I hate you deeply, and hating you
Bend to you, and the measure of my changing love for you
Is that I do not see you but love you blindly.
Maybe January light will consume
My heart with its cruel
Ray, stealing my key to true calm.
In this part of the story I am the one who
Dies, the only one, and I will die of love because I love you,
Because I love you, Love, in fire and blood. — Pablo Neruda

If, one day, I am able to find the fortitude to stare January 18, 2012 directly in the face, and then hand it to you as I see it, then you will know that I somehow began to emerge from this black hole reborn, with a renewed spirit. — Zack Love

On the last day of January 1915, under the sign of the Water Bearer, in a year of a great war, and down in the shadow of some French mountains on the borders of Spain, I came into the world. Free by nature, in the image of God, I was nevertheless the prisoner of my own violence and my own selfishness, in the image of the world into which I was born. That world was the picture of Hell, full of men like myself, loving God and yet hating Him; born to love Him, living instead in fear and hopeless self-contradictory hungers. — Thomas Merton

The Lord Calls You I would like to say to those who feel far from God and from the Church - I would like to say respectfully - to all those who are fearful or indifferent: the Lord calls you too, he calls you to be a part of his people, and he does so with deep respect and love! The Lord is calling you. The Lord is seeking you. The Lord is waiting for you. The Lord does not proselytize, he loves, and this love seeks you, waits for you, you who at this moment do not believe this or are far away. And this is the love of God. Angelus, St. Peter's Square Monday, January 6, 2014 — Pope Francis

Since the Kingstonfirst BID started in January 2005, retailers have enjoyed three years of impressive sales growth, which has taken many of us to the top of our peer group. The BID period has also seen Kingston rise to 12th place according to Experian, and 13th place according to the Javelin Venuescore, in their respective retail super leagues of UK town and city centres. I am confident the platform that our BID provides will allow us to continue to maintain Kingston as the place that people love to shop and visit. — David Barford

No other woman had that air of spring in January, that ever-bubbling fount of love and hope. — Rosalind Miles

It was February sixth: eight days until Valentine's Day. I was dateless, as usual, deep in the vice grip of unrequited love. It was bad enough not having a boyfriend for New Year's Eve. Now I had to cope with Valentine datelessness, feeling consummate social pressure from every retailer in America who stuck hearts and cupids in their windows by January second to rub it in. — Joan Bauer

Frederick Douglass, former slave, extraordinary speaker and writer, wrote in his Rochester newspaper the North Star, January 21, 1848, of "the present disgraceful, cruel, and iniquitous war with our sister republic. Mexico seems a doomed victim to Anglo Saxon cupidity and love of dominion." Douglass was scornful of the unwillingness of opponents of the war to take real action (even the abolitionists kept paying their taxes): The determination of our slaveholding President to prosecute the war, and the probability of his success in wringing from the people men and money to carry it on, is made evident, rather than doubtful, by the puny opposition arrayed against him. No politician of any considerable distinction or eminence seems willing to hazard his popularity with his party . . . by an open and unqualified disapprobation of the war. None seem willing to take their stand for peace at all risks; and all seem willing that the war should be carried on, in some form or other. — Howard Zinn

In the end it comes down to two rival versions of the English middle afternoon. Post-Barrett, Pink Floyd kept on in a middle-afternoonish vein, but they fell in love with the idea of portentous storm clouds in the offing somewhere over Grantchester ... Barrett's afternoonishness was far more supple and engaging. It superimposed the hippie cult of eternal solstice on the pre-teatime daydreams of one's childhood, occasioned by a slick of sunlight on a chest of drawers ... His afternoonishness is lit by an importunate adult intelligence that can't quite get back to the place it longs to be ... Barrett created the same precocious longing in adolescents.
I remember 'See Emily Play' drifting across a school corridor in 1967 ... and I remember the powerful wish to stay suspended indefinitely in that music ... I also remember the quasi-adult intimation that this wasn't possible.
[from the London Review of Books for January 2, 2003] — Jeremy Harding

There's something I love about how stark the contrast is between January and June in Sweden. In a way, I feel that time doesn't exist in LA. Sometimes I don't know if it's February or April or October, because you're always sitting outside on the same patio, and it's 70 degrees. — Alexander Skarsgard

I love beginnings. If I were in charge of calendars, every day would be January 1. And — Jerry Spinelli

It was cold on that Monday, January 23rd, when a little boy was born, in case you haven't heard. An infant that would become the future Dr. Jim. And all the people of the world would fall in love with him. — Scott Thomas Nicol

JANUARY 3 A Necessary Daily Exercise Why is it that my thoughts wander so quickly from God's word, and that in my hour of need the needed word is often not there? Do I forget to eat and drink and sleep? Then why do I forget God's word? Because I still can't say what the psalmist says: "I will delight in your statutes" (Ps. 119:16). I don't forget the things in which I take delight. Forgetting or not forgetting is a matter not of the mind but of the whole person, of the heart. I never forget what body and soul depend upon. The more I begin to love the commandments of God in creation and word, the more present they will be for me in every hour. Only love protects against forgetting. — Dietrich Bonhoeffer

I love the Mediterranean for the fact that winter is over in a minute, and the almond blossom arrives in January. — Jade Jagger

I think I can safely call 2012 average. Overall, it was a stronger year for nonfiction than fiction - a situation that would've surprised me back in January, when I was looking forward to big new novels from several authors I really love. — David Edelstein

It's June in January Because I'm in love It always is spring in my heart with you in my arms. — Leo Robin

I did put on the record player, the love symphony of Beethoven wafted in the air. You and I made love,
last February on that amazing Sunday afternoon. And the neighbor's dog barked madly every time our bed creaked from all the gyrations that you and I could outmaneuver in our frenzy of wanting each other's body and soul! — Avijeet Das

January 8 has been a lucky day for me. I have started all my books on that day, and all of them have been well received by the readers. I write eight to ten hours a day until I have a first draft, then I can relax a little. I am very disciplined. I write in silence and solitude. I light a candle to call inspiration and the muses, and I surround myself with pictures of the people I love, dead and alive. — Isabel Allende

So Recklessly Exposed

December and January, gone.
Tulips coming up. It's time to watch
how trees stagger in the wind
and roses never rest.

Wisteria and Jasmine twist on themselves.
Violet kneels to Hyacinth, who bows.

Narcissus winks, wondering what will
the lightheaded Willow say
of such slow dancing by Cypress.

Painters come outdoors with brushes.
I love their hands.

The birds sing suddenly and all at once.
The soul says Ya Hu, quietly.

A dove calls, Where, ku?
Soul, you will find it.

Now the roses show their breasts.
No one hides when the Friend arrives.

The Rose speaks openly to the Nightingale.
Notice how the Green Lily has several tongues
but still keeps her secret.

Now the Nightingale sings this love
that is so recklessly exposed, like you. — Jalaluddin Rumi

When is Tawny's birthday?" Cooper asked.
"In November."
"And yours was in January?"
Frowning at him, I didn't answer.
Cooper finally grinned at my irritation. "I did my homework on you. Hoped your birthday was coming up so I could do something big and romantic. You chicks love that crap."
"Oh, we really do," I said, smiling now as I ate my salad. "When's your birthday?"
"Beginning of December. I'm a Sag," he said, as if I should be impressed. "What will you give me for my birthday?"
"Probably something with me naked. Well, assuming I haven't grown bored of you by then."
Leaning back in his chair, Cooper smiled. "I like the way you say naked. Makes me think of you naked."
"Big shock."
"I really want to see that."
"Well, let's see how dinner goes first. — Bijou Hunter

The sun glowed behind the monotonous, gray January sky, a tease of light through the heavy hazy. Noah gazed out the window. He hated when the sun shined against the overcast sky creating a white, blinding glare while the ball of yellow remained hidden, a tantalizing possibility without a promise. Maybe it would poke through; maybe it wouldn't. That type of sun was a capricious as a woman. — Jacqueline Simon Gunn

She stood in front of him with January in her hair and he was lost. — Fredrik Backman

The truth was I knew, after all those flat January days, that I deserved better. I deserved I love yous and kiwi fruits and warriors coming to my door, besotted with love. I deserved pictures of my face in a thousand expressions, and the warmth of a baby's kick beneath my hand. I deserved to grow, and to change, to become all the girls I could be over the course of my life, each one better than the last. — Sarah Dessen

Monday 29 January 1821 [Halifax]
I love and only love the fairer sex and thus beloved by them in turn, my heart revolts from any love but theirs. — Anne Lister

That's when I did start loving Daniel. Not when I said I did, but some moments later when he replied in kind. It was the last day of January. Winter was through. — Claire Kilroy

There's one Baldessari work I genuinely love and would like to own, maybe because of my Midwestern roots and love of driving alone. 'The backs of all the trucks passed while driving from Los Angeles to Santa Barbara, California, Sunday, 20 January 1963' consists of a grid of 32 small color photographs depicting just what the title says. — Jerry Saltz

In winter darkness, the Baghdad Arabian keen blue deepness of the piercing lovely January winter's dusk
it used to tear my heart out, one stabbing soft star was in the middle of the magicalest blue, throbbing like love
I saw Maggie's black hair in this night
In the shelves of Orion her eye shades, borrowed, gleamed a dark and proud vellum somber power brooding rich bracelets of the moon rose from our snow, and surrounded the mystery. — Jack Kerouac

That's swell. That's what I call answering like a man. When is your birthday?" "In January." "I'd have sworn to it. So is mine. I believe the highest types are born in January. It's barometric - you can look it up in Ellsworth Huntington. The parents make love in spring when the organism is healthiest and then the best specimens are conceived. If you want children you should plan to knock up your dear one in that season. Ancient wisdom is right. Now science comes lately and finds it out. — Saul Bellow