Love Spreads Quotes & Sayings

They fell to, on the ground. You've seen a baker
rolling dough. He kneads it gently at first,
then more roughly. He pounds it on the board.
It softly groans under his palms.

Now he spreads
it out and rolls it flat. Then he bunches it,
and rolls it all the way out again,

thin.
Now he adds water and mixes it well.

Now salt,
and a little more salt. Now he shapes itdelicately to its final shape and slides itinto the oven, which is already hot.
You remember breadmaking!

This is how your desire
tangles with a desired one.

And it's not justa metaphor for a man and a woman making love.
Warriors in battle do this too.

A great mutual embrace
is always happening between the eternal
and what dies, between essence and accident. — Jalaluddin Rumi

We make families of our own, Travis whispered in my arms on the last night we spent together. It starts with you and me and then it spreads. And whatever happens, there'll always be a part of me that's part of you. No matter what. — Steve Kluger

Umm, well do I have to tell you how it's done?" I tease, as I get on my knees and lean over him, . A wide smile spreads over his face as I straddle his lap.
"Oh, are you taking dominance? I think I like that." He grips his hands on my hips, pulling me as close as he can get. — Annie Brewer

I love going out of my way, beyond what I know, and finding my way back a few extra miles, by another trail, with a compass that argues with the map ... nights alone in motels in remote western towns where I know no one and no one I know knows where I am, nights with strange paintings and floral spreads and cable television that furnish a reprieve from my own biography, when in Benjamin's terms, I have lost myself though I know where I am. Moments when I say to myself as feet or car clear a crest or round a bend, I have never seen this place before. Times when some architectural detail on vista that has escaped me these many years says to me that I never did know where I was, even when I was home. — Rebecca Solnit

a single person whose heart is aflame with the love of God can create a wildfire that spreads far and wide — Rudy Rasmus

Thou art the sky and thou art the nest as well.

O thou beautiful, there in the nest is thy love that encloses the soul with colours and sounds and odours.

There comes the morning with the golden basket in her right hand bearing the wreath of beauty, silently to crown the earth.

And there comes the evening over the lonely meadows deserted by herds, through trackless paths, carrying cool draughts of peace in her golden pitcher from the western ocean of rest.

But there, where spreads the infinite sky for the soul to take her flight in, reigns the stainless white radiance. There is no day nor night, nor form nor colour, and never, never a word. — Rabindranath Tagore

Human potential is amazing ... We have the capacity to create a world that is peaceful ... one that spreads kindness and love rather than hatred. If we believe it to be so, it will be our truth, and we will create it. — Kristi Bowman

If you open your heart, then the object of your love becomes so precious because you are so open. And that philosophy, that caring, spreads. — Jeff Bridges

I believe only in the religion which spreads the word of nonjudgmental love. — Debasish Mridha

The kind of love that spreads through your body, possessing and controlling it, doesn't just die. It keeps living the way a broken heart keeps beating. — Emma Hart

All human souls, never so bedarkened, love light; light once kindled spreads till all is luminous. — Thomas Carlyle

What's your story? It's all in the telling. Stories are compasses and architecture; we navigate by them, and to be without a story is to be lost in the vastness of world that spreads in all directions like arctic tundra or sea ice. To love someone is to put yourself in their place, we say, which is to put yourself in their story, or figure out how to tell yourself their story. Which means that a place is a story, and stories are geography, and empathy is first of all an act of imagination, a storyteller's art, and then a way of traveling from here to there. — Rebecca Solnit

I'd like for them to say he took a few cups of love, he took one tablespoon of patience, teaspoon of generosity, one pint of kindness. He took one quart of laughter, one pinch of concern, and then, he mix willingness with happiness, he added lots of faith, and he stirred it up well, then he spreads it over his span of a lifetime, and he served it to each and every deserving person he met. — Muhammad Ali

IN THE HANDS OF MAN


He who creates a poison, also has the cure.
He who creates a virus, also has the antidote.
He who creates chaos, also has the ability to create peace.
He who sparks hate, also has the ability to transform it to love.
He who creates misery, also has the ability to destroy it with kindness.
He who creates sadness, also has the ability to to covert it to happiness.
He who creates darkness, can also be awakened to produce illumination.
He who spreads fear, can also be shaken to spread comfort.
Any problems created by the left hand of man,
Can also be solved with the right,
For he who manifests anything,
Also has the ability to
Destroy it. — Suzy Kassem

Christians cannot be pessimists! They do not look like someone in constant mourning. If we are truly in love with Christ and if we sense how much he loves us, our hearts will "light up" with a joy that spreads to everyone around us. — Pope Francis

Love is just like magic. It takes special care to discover, but once you have it in the palm of your hand, it spreads throughout your heart and soul. When you find love, you have to hold on to it. You have to promise to never let it go. — Rachel Van Dyken

Carlos's smile spreads over his entire face. He reaches out, cups her chin, and presses a light kiss on her lips. Gabi's shocked eyes flutter closed, and when she opens them with a dazed look on her face, Carlos answers, "I'd love to. — Rachel Harris

With thee conversing I forget all time,
All seasons and their change, all please alike.
Sweet is the breath of morn, her rising sweet,
With charm of earliest birds; pleasant the sun
When first on this delightful land he spreads
His orient beams, on herb, tree, fruit, and flower,
Glistering with dew; fragrant the fertile earth
After soft showers; and sweet the coming on
Of grateful evening mild, then silent night
With this her solemn bird and this fair moon,
And these the gems of heav'n, her starry train:
But neither breath of morn when she ascends
With charm of earliest birds, nor rising sun
On this delightful land, nor herb, fruit, flower,
Glistring with dew, nor fragrance after showers,
Nor grateful evening mild, nor silent night
With this her solemn bird, nor walk by moon,
Or glittering starlight without thee is sweet. — John Milton

There is this pain of love. You experience it some moments. It starts like a strange gnawing at your heart. It then slowly spreads. Spreads to the whole body. You fall deeply into it. This feeling. — Avijeet Das

Because it seems like a lot of hassle, liking someone. Your brain runs hot, the cogs inside your mind jarring together until all the oil of your thoughts is burned away. The fire spreads to your chest, where it chars your lungs and turns your heart to embers. And right when you think the flames have burned away everything but your skeleton, the spark skips from your bones to immolate not only your flesh, but your entire life. — Krystal Sutherland

So instead of not-writing, I am painting. I'm not a painter, but I make paintings anyway. I use glass and oil-based house paint, which is toxic, and which you can't buy just anywhere anymore. It's being phased out in favor of latex, which doesn't stick to glass, and acrylic, which I haven't tried. Stacked on my garage windowsill are seventeen quarts of the stuff in various primary colors, in case the whole world stops selling it. I love the oiliness, I love how it spreads on the surface of the glass, how tipped at an angle it rolls and drips, and merges. I love how one color overtakes another on the downward slide. — Abigail Thomas

The rivers flow long distances and their goodness spreads all over far and wide. We are far from each other but our love for each other is creating a story that will forever be remembered. — Daran Norris

I don't know if anyone's ever told you this", he begins. He doesn't blush, and his eyes don't dart away. Instead I find myself staring into a pair of oceans - one perfect, the other blemished by that tiny ripple. "You're very attractive."
I've been complimented on my appearance before. But never in his tone of voice. Of all the things he's said, I don't know why this catches me off guard. But it startles me so much that without thinking I blurt out, "I could say the same about you." I pause. "In case you didn't know."
A slow grin spreads across his face. "Oh, trust me. I know. — Marie Lu

This deliberately nurtured hatred then spreads to all that is alive, to life itself, to the world with its colors, sounds, and shapes, to the human body. The embittered art of the twentieth century is perishing as a result of this ugly hate, for art is fruitless without love. In the East art has collapsed because it has been knocked down and trampled upon, but in the West the fall has been voluntary, a decline into a contrived and pretentious quest where the artist, instead of attempting to reveal the divine plan, tries to put himself in the place of God. — Aleksandr Solzhenitsyn

That's it really; it's all love, whichever way you look at it, it's all love. How much you can Get from each other and that's determined by how much you're Giving to each other ... But it all starts Within our self and then it spreads to those around us, Good & Bad. But basically that's it, I think it's the Love that we can generate is = to the Love that we get back
Amen — George Harrison

I looked at her, then back at him. "If you really loved me, you'd do it."
Jealousy is the rust that eats away at morality's hard steel. It's cancerous, and once it starts it spreads, and spreads. At first it lets small concessions through. He watched me drink, do drugs. He looked the other way when we stole things. He was in love. He never realized all these lapses were weakening him, that a moment would come when I'd push harder than before and the entire structure would crumble into red powder.
Armin gave me the gun. Took the bat. Closed his eyes and inhaled. Opened them and swung and exhaled.
He'd gone for the head. — Leah Raeder

Every man on earth is sick with the fever of sin, with the blindness of sin and is overcome with its fury. As sins consist mostly of malice and pride, it is necessary to treat everyone who suffers from the malady of sin with kindness and love. This is an important truth, which we often forget. Very often we act in the opposite manner: we add malice to malice by our anger, we oppose pride with pride. Thus, evil grows within us and does not decrease; it is not cured - rather it spreads — John Of Kronstadt

Light, my light, the world-filling light, the eye-kissing light, heart-sweetening light!
Ah, the light dances, my darling, at the centre of my life; the light strikes, my darling, the chords of my love; the sky opens, the wind runs wild, laughter passes over the earth.
The butterflies spread their sails on the sea of light. Lilies and jasmines surge up on the crest of the waves of light.
The light is shattered into gold on every cloud, my darling, and it scatters gems in profusion.
Mirth spreads from leaf to leaf, my darling, and gladness without measure. The heaven's river has drowned its banks and the flood of joy is abroad. — Rabindranath Tagore

The Lily of the valley, breathing in the humble grass
Answer'd the lovely maid and said: I am a watry weed,
And I am very small, and love to dwell in lowly vales;
So weak, the gilded butterfly scarce perches on my head;
Yet I am visited from heaven, and he that smiles on all
Walks in the valley and each morn over me spreads his hand,
Saying: 'Rejoice, thou humble grass, thou new-born lily flower, — William Blake

You love me this much! Fang spreads his arms wide — James Patterson

I came to set fire to the earth. And I am watchful that the fire grow.
May the fire of love grow in our hearts.
May the fire of transformation glow in our movements.
May the fire of purification burn away our sins.
May the fire of justice guide our steps.
May the fire of wisdom illuminate our paths.
May the fire that spreads over the Earth never be extinguished. — Paulo Coelho

True love knows no constraints, no locks or bars. Past every obstacle it makes its way. It spreads it wings to soar toward the stars, No earthly power will make it stop or stay. — Kerstin Gier

Leroy's reasoning is dry as a razor, and Chantal agrees: love as an exaltation of two individuals, love as fidelity, passionate attachment to a single person - no, that doesn't exist. And if it does exist, it is only as self-punishment, willful blindness, escape into a monastery. She tells herself that even if it does exist, love ought not to exist, and the idea does not maker her bitter, on the contrary, it produces a bliss that spreads throughout her body. She thinks of the metaphor of the rose that moves through all men and tells herself that she has been living locked away by love and now she is ready to obey the myth of the rose and merge with its giddy fragrance. — Milan Kundera

I bring his hand to my lips and kiss his palm, my eyes closing, as I inflict as much emotion into my action as possible. "I love you," I whisper. The pang in my heart spreads, thundering through my body. — Trisha Wolfe

If you kiss someone on the back of the neck, it spreads. — H. Jackson Brown Jr.

That infinite and indescribable good
which is there above races as swiftly
to love as a ray of light to a bright body.
It gives of itself according to the ardor
it finds, so that as charity spreads farther
the eternal good increases upon it,
and the more souls there are who love, up there,
the more there are to love well, and the more love
they reflect to each other, as in a mirror. — Dante Alighieri

Love is the most powerful healing energy. Everything you do with love spreads healing. So feel it,be it, and spread it. — Abhishek Kumar

If every one of us spreads the message of love, compassion, kindness and forgiveness, peace will be there. — Debasish Mridha

Your love reaches every living being, including animals, because they deserve love. Your love spreads to plants, mountain ranges, galaxies, as all part of one ever-changing, fluid energy.

This doesn't happen every second of every day. In fact, it happens in fleeting moments, and then you return to your self-centered concerns. But for that fleeting moment, you are the World's Greatest Lover.

So what? Who cares about a title like that? The title doesn't matter, but being able to love like that changes you. — Anonymous

I am living in many dimensions at once; the appearance of being trapped in time and space is an illusion: Today I will experience myself beyond limitations. I will set time aside to be present with myself in silence. As I breathe I will see my being spreading outward in all directions. As I settle into my own inner silence, any image that comes to mind will be asked to join my being. I will include anyone and anything that comes to mind, saying, "You and I are one at the level of being. Come, join me beyond the drama of space and time." In the same way I will experience love as a light that begins in my heart and spreads out as far as my awareness can reach; as images arise in my mind, I will send love and light in their direction. — Deepak Chopra

Love again: wanking at ten past three
(Surely he's taken her home by now?),
The bedroom hot as a bakery,
The drink gone dead, without showing how
To meet tomorrow, and afterwards,
And the usual pain, like dysentery.
Someone else feeling her breasts and cunt,
Someone else drowned in that lash-wide stare,
And me supposed to be ignorant,
Or find it funny, or not to care,
Even ... but why put it into words?
Isolate rather this element
That spreads through other lives like a tree
And sways them on in a sort of sense
And say why it never worked for me.
Something to do with violence
A long way back, and wrong rewards,
And arrogant eternity. — Philip Larkin

Awake, O brave one! Arise, O lion-heart! Be the messenger that spreads compassion. — Abhijit Naskar

Love, free as air, at sight of human ties,
Spreads his light wings, and in a moment flies. — Alexander Pope

Every time his lips meet mine, my whole body begins a slow tingle that starts from within in my chest, and spreads like a wildfire. — Alex Rosa

You know what love is because you've studied it, not because you've felt it. You never will. You know what love is? It's this insidious thing that infects your eyes and ears, spreads to every inch of skin, the follicles of hair on the skin, the lips, the tongue, a hundred million microscopic organisms crawling on you. They commandeer the hollow of your thorax and your guts, your arms, your legs, your head, and other extremities. You cease to be yourself. You are now a vessel of impressions and thoughts of the person you love, of wishes for her, of dreams of her. You're jealous of the air she breathes because she takes it inside her all day and needs it to live; it becomes her, as you want to. You cast your thoughts of her and you an hour, a day, a week, a year, a hundred years into the future. No thought has the power to push itself as far into the future as the thought of love - not even thoughts of fame, or wealth, or death. — Matthew Sharpe

We should expect hope's reciprocity as a natural flowering of the life of hope. Helping others and nurturing hope is expressive of hopefulness itself. It is an extension of the hopeful self to reach out to others, promoting the connection of agency and the enrichment of horizons of meaning. Hope's reciprocity grows out of the very social nature of hope; we thus frequently see it live in family relations, in intimacy, in love. And so hope spreads. This spreading should not surprise us; like love, it is freely given, fostered, and nurtured. — Patrick Shade

I want free life, and I want fresh air;
And I sigh for the canter after the cattle,
The crack of the whip like shots in battle,
The medley of horns, and hoofs, and heads
That wars, and wrangles, and scatters and spreads;
The green beneath and the blue above,
And dash, and danger, and life and love. — Frank Desprez

Tucker snorts. "Sage is a fighter, it spreads over the land like wildfire, sucking up all the water, the nutrients in the earth, until everything else dies. It's a heart little plant, that I'll give it. But it's gray and ugly and ticks love to hide in it. You ever seen a tick?" He glances over at me. The look on my face must be pretty appalled because suddenly he gives and uncomfortable cough and says quietly, "Sage does have a nice smell. — Cynthia Hand

And in the end, of course, a true war story is never about war. It's about sunlight. It's about the special way that dawn spreads out on a river when you know you must cross the river and march into the mountains and do things you are afraid to do. It's about love and memory. It's about sorrow. It's about sisters who never write back and people who never listen. — Tim O'Brien

My senses flood with feeling, so intense, and then I'm cradled in warmth. The heat stems from my hand and spreads through my body. I look down and lace my fingers through his.
He strokes my jawline, lifting my face to meet his emerald eyes-clear and vibrant-like time never passed between us. "You're home," he says, his voice stirring all my love.
"You're my home. — Trisha Wolfe

True love is boundless like the ocean and, swelling within one, spreads itself out and, crossing all boundaries and frontiers, envelops the whole world. — Mahatma Gandhi

You think you cannot live anymore. You think that the light of your soul has been put out and that you will stay in the dark forever. But when you are engulfed by such solid darkness, when you have both eyes closed to the world, a third eye opens in your heart. And only then do you come to realize that eyesight conflicts with inner knowledge. No eye sees so clear and sharp as the eye of love. After grief comes another season, another valley, another you. And the lover who is nowhere to be found, you start to see everywhere.
You see him in the drop of water that falls into the ocean, in the high tide that follows the waxing of the moon, or in the morning wind that spreads its fresh smell; you see him in the geomancy symbols in the sand, in the tiny particles of rock glittering under the sun, in the smile of a newborn baby, or in your throbbing vein. How can you say Shams is gone when he is everywhere and in everything? — Elif Shafak

When the soul opens its shell, it liberates the fundamental center that is the spirit. And once born, the spirit spreads its wings and flies with all the freedom of love, going to nestle in the heart where resides true Divine love. Love is God in full flight, and it is found inside our own selves. It is the bird coming back to its nest, the spirit returning to its reality, and the creature to the Creator, all coming together in the domain of the One who is and always was. — Alex Polari De Alverga

They say the blues is sad, but when B.B. sings 'I got a sweet little angel, I love the way she spreads her wings,' that don't sound too sad to me! — Buddy Guy

Hearts grow hard and weary. Pain spreads, and joy diminishes. Those who hated you hate you still, but those who loved you, or would have loved you, or wanted to love you but never had the chance, are being scraped hollow by a loss they don't understand. Come home. Please come home. We are withering without you. — Bruce Coville