Wondering About Love Quotes & Sayings

He is the luckiest man in the world to have you, Rosie, but he doesn't deserve you and you deserve far better. You deserve someone who loves you with every single beat of his heart, someone who thinks about you constantly, someone who spends every minute of every day just wondering what you're doing, where you are, who you're with, and if you're okay. You need someone who can help you reach your dreams and who can protect you from your fears. You need someone who will treat you with respect, love every part of you, especially your flaws. You should be with someone who can make you happy, really happy, dancing-on-air happy. Someone who should have taken the chance to be with you years ago instead of getting scared and being too afraid to try. I am not scared anymore , Rosie. I am not afraid to try. — Cecelia Ahern

Love is curiosity sometimes. Concentrated wondering about the other one. — Kij Johnson

It was so stupid, and random, but at that second, with the morning sun hitting her auburn hair, and her huge brown eyes fixed on him, the lock flew off the "do-not-allow-yourself-to-even-think-about-it" portion of his brain, and every feeling he ever had for her - feelings he never even realized he had for her - flooded over him like a tidal wave. Love, tenderness, desire - it hit him so hard he had to excuse himself, go to the men's room, rest his forehead against the cool metal of the bathroom stall, breathing heavily, wondering what the hell had just happened. It left him exhausted and spent, as if he'd just run a hundred miles.
And almost a year later, he was still exhausted, spent, frustrated ... and madly in love. — Claire Matthews

Everything Tolstoy wrote is precious, but I found this final statement of the truth about life as he had come to understand it particularly beautiful and moving. 'That is what I have wanted to say to you, my brothers. Before I died.' So he concludes, giving one a vivid sense of the old man, pen in hand and bent over the paper, his forehead wrinkled into a look of puzzlement very characteristic of him, as though he were perpetually wondering how others could fail to see what was to him so clear - that the law of love explained all mysteries and invalidated all other laws. — Malcolm Muggeridge

I've never been good at writing letters, so I hope you'll forgive me if I'm not able to make myself clear.
I've been thinking about you constantly since I left, wondering why the journey I'm on seemed to have led through you. I know my journey's not over yet, and that life is a winding path, but I can only hope it somehow circles back to the place I belong.
That's how I think of it now. I belong with you.
It is almost as if a part of you is with me. I want to believe that's true. No, change that - I know it's true. Before we met, I was as lost as a person could be, and yet you saw something in me that somehow gave me direction again. It was you, that I had been looking for all along. And it's you who is with me now.
I realize that I miss you more than I've ever missed anyone. In the short time we spent together, we had what most people can only dream about, and I'm counting the days until I can see you again. Never forget how much I love you. — Unknown

Anyhow, he say, you know how it is. You ask yourself one question, it lead to fifteen. I start to wonder why us need love. Why us suffer. Why us black. Why us men and women. Where do children really come from. It didn't take long to realize I didn't hardly know nothing. And that if you ast yourself why you black or a man or a woman or a bush it don't mean nothing if you don't ask why you here, period. So what you think? I ask. I think us here to wonder, myself. To wonder. To ask. And that in wondering bout the big things and asking bout the big things, you learn about the little ones, almost by accident. But you never know nothing more about the big things than you start out with. The more I wonder, he say, the more I love. — Alice Walker

Me wondering why they don't say nothing about a kiss being salty as a tear. — Lindsay Hunter

Humans were so preoccupied with love. They were all desperate to form an attachment to one person they could refer to as their other half. It seemed from my reading of literature that being in love meant becoming the beloveds entire world. The rest of the universe paled into insignificance compared to the lovers. When they were separated, each fell into a melancholy state, and only when they were reunited did their hearts start beating again. Only when they were together could really see the colors of the world. When they were apart, that color leached away, leaving everything a hazy gray. I lay in bed, wondering about the intensity of this emotion that was so irrational and so irrefutably human. What if a persons face was so sacred to you it was permanently inscribed in your memory? What if their smell and touch were dearer to you than life itself? — Alexandra Adornetto

Her forehead was a maze of anxious little grooves, from a lifetime of wondering about whether everyone within range was OK. — Tana French

She was not certain what she wanted from life, or what to expect from it, for she had seen so little of it, but she was sure that in some way - because she willed it to be so - her wants and her expectations were the same.
For a while after their marriage she was in such demand that it was not unpleasant when he fell asleep. Presently, however, he began sleeping all night, and it was then she awoke more frequently, and looked into the darkness, wondering about the nature of men, doubtful of the future, until at last there came a night when she shook her husband awake and spoke of her own desire. Affably he placed one of his long white arms around her waist; she turned to him then, contentedly, expectantly, and secure. However, nothing else occurred, and in a few minutes he had gone back to sleep.
This was the night Mrs. Bridge concluded that while marriage might be an equitable affair, love itself was not. — Evan S. Connell

What I really love about them ... is the fact that they contain someone's personal history ... I find myself wondering about their lives. I can never look at a garment ... without thinking about the woman who owned it. How old was she? Did she work? Was she married? Was she happy? ... I look at these exquisite shoes, and I imagine the woman who owned them rising out of them or kissing someone ... I look at a little hat like this, I lift up the veil, and I try to imagine the face beneath it ... When you buy a piece of vintage clothing you're not just buying the fabric and thread - you're buying a piece of someone's past. — Isabel Wolff

I can read it.
I can read her.
Cuz she's thinking about how her own parents also came here with hope like my ma. She's wondering if the hope at the end of our hope is just as false as the one that was at the end of my ma's. And she;s taking the words of my ma and putting them into the mouths of her own ma and pa and hearing them say that they love her and they miss her and they wish her the world. And she's taking the song of my pa and she's weaving it into everything else till it becomes a sad thing all her own.
And it hurts her, but it's an okay hurt, but it hurts still, but it's good, but it hurts.
She hurts.
I know all this.
I know it's true.
Cuz I can read her.
I can read her Noise even tho she ain't got none.
I know who she is.
I know Viola Eade. — Patrick Ness

Julie: And now you've added me to your messaging list. How times change. By the way I'm having a little get-together for my birthday next week and I was wondering if you would like to come.
Rosie: Who else is going?
Julie: Oh just some other kids that I used to scare the hell out of 20 years ago. We love to gather and reminisce about the days gone by.
Rosie: Seriously.
Julie: No, just a few friends, a few members of my family for a few drinks and a few nibbles for a few minutes to mark the occasion and then you can all leave me alone.
Ahern, Cecelia (2005-02-01). Love, Rosie (p. 330). Hachette Books. Kindle Edition. — Cecelia Ahern

I've never loved like this. Never known what love was until I met you. But the fear of losing you doesn't make me run the other way. It makes me run toward you ... and I'll keep running. I'll fight for you until you tell me to stop. Love always involves fear. There are no guarantees about tomorrow for any of us. But in the meantime, while we're waiting for answers ... while we're wondering what's at the end of the road ... I want to walk it with you. — Karen Kingsbury

I'm trying to decide what's worse. Someone being gone, but still out there, or someone being gone forever, dead. I think someone being gone, but still out there, might be worse. Then there's always the chance, the hoping, the wondering if things might change. If maybe one day he'll come back. There's also the wondering about what his new life is like. The life without you. Is he happier? And if he is, you're left being sad, wondering what it would be like if you were happy with him. But when someone is dead, he's dead. He's not coming back. There is no second chance. Death is a period at the end of a sentence. Someone gone, but still out there, is an ellipsis ... or a question to be answered. — Samantha Schutz

Martin is always telling me to put all of this behind me, to get on with my life. But the thing is, before Jesse, I never really had a life. I had a routine. I did things. But aside from the accident" - he gestured with his prosthetic arm - "nothing ever happened to me. But she happened. And it was like a train wreck. It was big and painful and beautiful and every second mattered. You know what Beaudelaire said about love? It's 'an oasis of horror in a desert of boredom.' But it's still an oasis. Our time together - that's the story of my life. Everything before her was just the boring setup. Like the first hour of a miniseries, the part that's just padding to stretch it out for three nights. And the time since she's gone - that's just been some sort of weird, dragged-out anticlimax. I can feel myself sitting in the audience watching my life and wondering, 'Why isn't this movie over? — Phoef Sutton

This is my sixth series, and I'm burned out wondering if a show is going to change my life. Don't get me wrong, I love when people recognize my work. But I've given up worrying about whether it'll be seen by two people or two million or 22 million. — Charlotte Ross

Nini was looking at her face, so pure, so innocent, and so angelic. He was wondering about the man that she thought he was. He wanted so much to be that man. He felt like he never wanted to leave her dream. — Stevan V. Nikolic

I hope I find a really gorgeous woman, that I fall completely and madly in love with. I hope I find a sense of peace within myself about not always wondering if there's something better around the corner. All those things. Just a sense of being settled inside my skin. That's what I'm looking for. — Melissa Ferrick

I wanted to have more songs with religious backgrounds. The Christmas record has strong, traditional hymns, but it also has a song called 'Christmas in Heaven' about missing someone that you love that's passed on, and wondering what's going on up there on Christmas. — Scotty McCreery

Constantly falling back into an old trap, before I am even fully aware of it, I find myself wondering why someone hurt me, rejected me, or didn't pay attention to me. Without realizing it, I find myself brooding about someone else's success, my own loneliness, and the way the world abuses me. Despite my conscious intentions, I often catch myself daydreaming about becoming rich, powerful, and very famous. All of these mental games reveal to me the fragility of my faith that I am the Beloved One on whom God's favor rests. I am so afraid of being disliked, blamed, put aside, passed over, ignored, persecuted, and killed that I am constantly developing strategies to defend myself and thereby assure myself of the love I think I need and deserve. And in so doing I move far away from my father's home and choose to dwell in a "distant country," (pp. 41 & 42). — Henri J.M. Nouwen

Dear, you need to know something about love. When you love someone, you know it. When someone loves you, you know it. There is no question, no wondering, and no guessing. Love is felt within you, and if that is not there then it is very obvious. — Lorena Bathey

Okay, I've told you everythin'. Now please take that jacket off."
"Not yet, muchacho. If you've slept with so many people, how do I know you didn't catch a disease? Tell me you got tested."
"At the clinic when I got the staples in my arm, they tested me. Trust me, I'm clean."
"I am, too. Just in case you were wondering." I remove my other sandal, glad he didn't make me feel stupid or give me crap for asking more than one question. "Your turn."
"Do you ever think about makin' love to me?" He slides off a sock before I even answer his question. — Simone Elkeles

I love being on the water, wakesurfing and wakeboarding. I'm not thinking about golf. I'm just wondering if my cooler's got enough ice to make it through the day. — Dustin Johnson

Do you think you might be able to love me someday?" He asked and heard her laugh softly.

"I already do." She said and his soul soared. "So this is what the poets write about? This is what they call love?" She asked.

"Yes my love." He said softly.

"They do not do it justice." She stated and he laughed.

"I agree." He told her as he held her, wondering how this could be real. — Jasmine Dubroff

I love those dark moments in Peanuts. I love that they're in there, that Charles Schulz put the sad lonely bits of himself into the comic. I love the silliness too, the dancing Snoopy strips. The little boy Rerun drawing "basement" comics about Tarzan fighting Daffy Duck in a helicopter. Those are the bits that keep me reading. The funny parts! The fun parts. The silly bits that don't make any sense. And when I get to the sad lonely Peppermint Patty standing in a field wondering why nobody shook hands and said "good game," well, it works because that's not all she was. I try to think that way about everything. That's the kind of person I want to be. — Joey Comeau

Life is too short to waste any amount of time on wondering what other people think about you. In the first place, if they had better things going on in their lives, they wouldn't have the time to sit around and talk about you. What's important to me is not others' opinions of me, but what's important to me is my opinion of myself. — C. JoyBell C.

How can I look back and not speak of the stupid learning about birth? Of the stupid learning that people make love, and how it seemed the reason for all things, the intimacy of my wondering, the illumination that to an adolescent was the cause for life around me, the reason why the unhappy people I knew did not kill themselves? — Muriel Rukeyser

If you think it means I'm asking you to move in with me, you'd be right." Her expression turned more serious. "If you also think it means that I wake up every morning wondering what I did to deserve having you back in my life, well, you'd be right about that, too."
Jack just sat there for a moment, just ... stunned. No one had ever said anything like that to him.
"Come here," he said huskily. He grabbed her chair and pulled it toward his. He kissed her, softly at first, then his hand moved to her back and pushed her close as his emotions got the better of him. He pulled back to hold her gaze. "I love you, Cameron. You know that, right?"
She kissed him back, whispering the words in his ear. "I love you, too. — Julie James

But Ignatian spirituality is so capacious that even an introduction will touch upon a broad spectrum of topics: making good choices, finding meaningful work, being a good friend, living simply, wondering about suffering, deepening your prayer, striving to be a better person, and learning to love. — James Martin

She scanned the room, and her grin broadened when she saw Christian. She then sought me out. Her smile for him had been affectionate; mine was a bit humorous. I smiled back, wondering what she would say to me if she could.
"What's so funny?" asked Dimitri, looking down at me with amusement.
"I'm just thinking about what Lissa would say if we still had the bond."
In a very bad breach of protocol, he caught hold of my hand and pulled me toward him. "And?" he asked, wrapping me in an embrace.
"I think she'd ask,'What have we gotten ourselves into?'"
"What's the answer?" His warmth was all around me, as was his love, and again, I felt completeness. I had that missing piece of my world back. The soul that complemented mine. My match. My equal. Not only that, I had my life back-my own life. I would protect Lissa, I would serve, but I was finally my own person.
"I don't know," I said, leaning against his chest. "But I think it's going to be good. — Richelle Mead

I didn't know a living person could hurt you so badly.
When the pain originates with someone who is gone, it's your own memory that hurts you. Walking through the house, touching things they've touched, hearing sounds they heard, wondering what they would've thought of one thing or another. This is pain that I know, pain that I can handle, pain that is so much a part of me that if it were removed I would not be whole.
But when it's someone who's alive who hurts you, the pain can't be escaped. The things they've touched are still warm because they were just there, the sounds they hear reach your ears too - sometimes their own voice, and it's excruciating to bear. I know what he thinks about this, that, or the other because I can hear him saying so. But not to me. He doesn't talk to me anymore. — Mindy McGinnis

To let ourselves be seen, deeply seen, vulnerably seen; to love with our whole hearts, even though there's no guarantee
and that's really hard, and I can tell you as a parent, that's excruciatingly difficult
to practice gratitude and joy in those moments of terror, when we're wondering, "Can I love you this much? Can I believe in this this passionately? Can I be this fierce about this?" just to be able to stop and, instead of catastrophizing what might happen, to say, "I'm just so grateful, because to feel this vulnerable means I'm alive." And the last, which I think is probably the most important, is to believe that we're enough. Because when we work from a place, I believe, that says, "I'm enough," then we stop screaming and start listening, we're kinder and gentler to the people around us, and we're kinder and gentler to ourselves. — Brene Brown

There was Layla in the fullness of her lips, Lulu in the thick waves of her hair, Lu Xin in the intensity of her hazel eyes, Lucia in their twinkle. She was not alone. Maybe she never would be alone again. There, in the mirror, was every incarnation of Lucinda staring back at her and wondering, What is to become of us? What about our history, and our love? — Lauren Kate

As frightened as I was about taking a chance on uncertainty, a risk on love, shit, moving to another fucking country for a guy, I knew this was the best solution to the life I was living. If I told Mateo no, I would break my own heart and I would break his. I would be miserable for a very long time and I would spend the rest of my life wondering if I made a mistake. — Karina Halle

You deserve someone who loves you with every single beat of his heart, someone who thinks about you constantly, someone who spends every minute of every day just wondering what you're doing, where you are, who you're with, and if you're OK. You need someone who can help you reach your dreams and protect you from your fears. You need someone who will treat you with respect, love every part of you, especially your flaws. You should be with someone who could make you happy, really happy, dancing on air happy. — Cecelia Ahern

I want you gone," he says. "I want you out of my life. Out of my system. I don't want to spend another goddamn second thinking about you, wondering about you, worrying about you. I don't want to look at you, don't want to see you or smell you or taste you or hear you. I don't want this. Do you get that? I don't want any of this. It's driving me fucking insane. I can't sleep. I can't eat. I can't think. I hate this, whatever this is... whatever this bullshit is that I'm feeling because of you. Make it go away."
I just stare at him, because I don't know what to say to that. I don't know much of anything right now except what I'm feeling, and even that is hard to comprehend.
"You want the fairy tale," he continues. "You want the happy ending. You want the little boy to be a fucking bird so he can fly away and make everything okay, but I can't do it. I've told you that. It's not me."
"I know."
"So why the fuck are you here?"
"Because I love you anyway. — J.M. Darhower

I might be the only person on the face of the earth that knows you're the greatest woman on earth. I might be the only one who appreciates how amazing you are in every single thing that you do, and how you are with Spencer, "Spence," and in every single thought that you have, and how you say what you mean, and how you almost always mean something that's all about being straight and good. I think most people miss that about you, and I watch them, wondering how they can watch you bring their food, and clear their tables and never get that they just met the greatest woman alive. And the fact that I get it makes me feel good, about me. — Mark Andrus

I think us here to wonder, myself. To wonder. To ask. And that in wondering bout the big things and asking bout the big things, you learn about the little ones, almost by accident. But you never know nothing more about the big things than you start out with. The more I wonder, the more I love. — Alice Walker

She'd stared at the darkened ceiling half the night wondering about what Murphy had said. Turning the comment every which way. And every way she turned it, she ended up with the same view: Murphy had feelings for her. She couldn't believe he might love her - though his answer to Dad's question suggested otherwise. And she definitely wasn't about to address the subject with him. Last night had been awkward enough. — Denise Hunter

I have to tell him how much i miss him when he's not here. So I snug my face against his pulse in his neck. "I love you" I wait, barely about to breathe. He tightens his arms around me. "I know, and how luck that makes me." I watch him go, wondering just what the fuck that meant to me. — Ellen Hopkins

I miss you,' she said. 'Every day, I miss you. And I wonder what you would have made of all this. Made of me. I think - I think you would have been a wonderful king. I think they would have liked you more than me, actually.' Her throat tightened. 'I never told you - how I felt. But I loved you, and I think a part of me might always love you. Maybe you were my mate, and I never knew it. Maybe I'll spend the rest of my life wondering about that. Maybe I'll see you again in the Afterworld, and then I'll know for sure. But until then ... until then I'll miss you, and I'll wish you were here. — Sarah J. Maas

I can honestly say I could go two or three days without wondering what Savannah was doing or even thinking about her. Did this make my love less real? I asked myself that question dozens of times during that trip, but I always decided it didn't, for the simple reason that her image would ambush me when I least expected it, overwhelming me with the same ache I had the day I'd left. Anything might set it off: a friend talking about his wife, the sight of a couple holding hands, or even the way some of the villagers would smile as we passed. — Nicholas Sparks

I had not the least idea of a gamekeeper's occupation being so dangerous - there had never been such a person employed on the Longbourn estate - and just as I had spent half the previous night wondering about Peter, I spent half the next one worrying about him. — Jennifer Paynter

When you love people, you are curious about who they are, what they think, and how they feel. You watch them closely, wondering about their experience and what you can do to make it more enjoyable. You feel compassion for their pain and seek to make it more bearable. You are eager to learn the unique language of their existence. You want to under-stand them, inspire them, heal them. What if you could look at yourself this way? — Vironika Tugaleva

I am always wondering about love. — Jeanette Winterson

Excuse me? Can I trouble you for a second..."
"Oh, hell..." Oliver raised his hand so Langham didn't speak. "Yes, love, carry on."He waited for the female to speak again, wondering what the bloody hell was about come their way.
"It's just that I'm in this flat and I can't get out."
"Um... Are you alive?"
"I have no idea. I just know I'm this flat and every time I think I'm dead, like now, I wake up again."
"Where is this flat?"
"See, that's the thing. Again, I have no idea..."
Oliver looked at Langham and smiled apologetically.
"Fuck it," Langham said. "You put me off my bloody lunch talking about men's cocks being torn off anyway. What's next? Lay it on me. — Sarah Masters

In my mind I first felt like, Oh, I'll be back to work right after the babies are born. But then you don't want to. Even now, it's very difficult for me to leave them in the morning. It just tortures me. I'm like, It's been hours; are they wondering where I am? Do they know that I love them so much and I'm thinking only about them? — Jennifer Lopez