Love quotes

1, the road to true love is not smooth. ——? Shakespeare

2. Love sublimates people's desire to perfection. -Dante

Whoever keeps saying "I don't love" is in love. -Ovid

4. True love between men and women can not be achieved by body or spirit, but only by the mutual integration of spirit and body. —— Zhu Yaoxie

5. Joy and pain alternate in love. Joe Byron

6. Whoever loves according to the rules will not get love. -Montaigne

7. Life is precious, but love is more expensive.

Love epigram:

Love is the poem and the sun in life-Suhomlinski

If there is no love on the earth, the sun will die-Hugo

True love never dies-Hugo

Love is not enough. With happiness, I still want to be in heaven; If you have heaven, you still want it-Hugo

My soul is attached to you, and your love is the brilliant light in my life-Goethe.

Seize the opportunity of happiness, love and being loved-lev tolstoy

If two kinds of feelings last for a long time, are they still in the morning and evening-Qin Guan

We hope to fly in the sky, like two birds, with the same wing; We hope to grow together on the ground, like two branches of a tree. -Bai Juyi

Love idioms: childhood friends, two children don't have to guess, Zhang Chang thrush, Qi Mei, for example, grow old together, the golden house hides the charming.

Love story:

I once met an apple.

A red apple.

At that time, I was still young and only went to junior high school. My deskmate is a boy who will blush. Yes, I blush when quarreling-I have quarreled with him many times and he always apologizes first. I also secretly think he is very gentlemanly. Later, the teacher adjusted his post and I separated from him.

It was sunny that afternoon. I rode my bike to school, thinking about things far away, and suddenly I thought of him. He left this morning and was transferred to the third group. I don't know why, my heart is empty, just like a room that hasn't been cleaned for a long time. When I came to the classroom, I saw my new deskmate, a boy who didn't say a few words to me. Inadvertently, I turned my attention to him. He and his new deskmate are talking and laughing. When I sat in my seat, I finally breathed a sigh of relief, not for anything, but because I couldn't see him from this angle. When I reached into the drawer to get the book, I met a comfortable and cool thing-an apple. There is a note on it that says "for you" and a smiling face. The familiar handwriting is him.

I didn't smile, but I felt that I had an apple tree in my heart. However, the biggest and reddest apple just fell into my hand. It is mine.

I didn't eat or tear up the note. I just carefully put it in the interlayer of my schoolbag and took it home. I didn't eat when I got home. I just put it on the bookcase, with the note side facing outward. It is red and round, just like Browning's poem. I looked at it, as if I had read the words on this apple and a heart so red and round.

I don't remember how those days passed. I only remember that I couldn't see him in my seat because of the angle. I only glanced at the notebook when I handed it. He still looks like that, blushing, knowing that some girls can't do Olympic math problems, and smiling at the teacher stupidly. However, the quarrel that only belonged to us never happened again. In that brief look back, I heard my heartbeat for the first time.

Every day when I go home, I will talk to that apple. I'm afraid apples are tired of listening, too. Little girl's trivial, little girl's heart. However, the apple still looks like a good temper, emitting fragrance and attractive luster, just like a silver bowl, containing secrets like rice grains. Gradually, every time I pass by a fruit stall and see an apple, I will think of him, his bright smile and the way he blushes when he quarrels. Simple, like an apple.

I was at a loss when the apple began to rot. Where the apples fester, the water begins to flow. I know, it's cider. Smelling the wine, I still didn't throw it away.

When the apple was completely corrupt, I left that note, but there was a stain on it, which was an apple's footprint to the world. I passed the fruit stand that day, bought an apple and posted a note, just like before. But, I know, that note is still the original note, I am still the original me, just an apple, not the original apple.

I have always adhered to that habit. The apple is rotten, I will buy another one, put a note on it and put it on the bookcase. Until graduation from junior high school. I looked for him with my graduation contact book. He paused and wrote down the contact information. However, in the message column, he only wrote "bon voyage".

When I got home, I looked at the apple and shed a tear.

I still remember the sound of tears falling to the ground. Although I am a college student, I have never called him or bought him one apple after another, because I know that the best way to deal with an apple is to eat it.