Love Gone Bad Quotes

"If you could see my legs when I take my boots off, you'd form some idea of what unrequited affection is." ~ Dombey and Son by Charles Dickens "You don't want to love--your eternal and abnormal craving is to be loved. You aren't positive, you're negative. You absorb, absorb, as if you must fill yourself up with love, because you've got a shortage somewhere." ~ Sons and Lovers by D. H. Lawrence "Well," said she, after a pause, "if you despise my love, I must see what can be done with fear. You smile, but the day will come when you will come screaming to me for pardon." ~ The Parasite by Sir Arthur Conan Doyle "Accounts are not quite settled between us," said she, with a passion that equaled my own. "I can love, and I can hate. You had your choice. You chose to spurn the first; now you must test the other." ~ The Parasite by Sir Arthur Conan Doyle "Here is the first passionate love-letter I have ever written in my life. Strange, that my first passionate love-letter should have been addressed to a dead girl. Can they feel, I wonder, those white silent people we call the dead?" ~ The Picture of Dorian Gray by Oscar Wilde "No, you are not worthy of the love which I have devoted to you. I knew all along that the prize I had set my life on was not worth the winning; that I was a fool, with fond fancies, too, bartering away my all of truth and ardour against your little feeble remnant of love. I will bargain no more: I withdraw." ~ Vanity Fair by William Makepeace Thackeray "Young men want to be faithful, and are not; old men want to be faithless, and cannot." ~ The Picture of Dorian Gray by Oscar Wilde "Those who are faithful know only the pleasures of love: it is the faithless who know love's tragedies." ~ The Picture of Dorian Gray by Oscar Wilde "O curse of marriage, that we can call these delicate creatures ours, and not their appetites!" ~ Othello by William Shakespeare A Christmas frost had come at midsummer; a white December storm had whirled over June; ice glazed the ripe apples, drifts crushed the blowing roses; on hayfield and cornfield lay a frozen shroud: lanes which last night blushed full of flowers, to-day were pathless with untrodden snow; and the woods, which twelve hours since waved leafy and flagrant as groves between the tropics, now spread, waste, wild, and white as pine-forests in wintry Norway. ~ Jane Eyre by Charlotte Bronte