Pablo Neruda Quotes

I love you as certain dark things are to be loved, in secret, between the shadow and the soul.

Love is so short, forgetting is so long.

I love you without knowing how, or when, or from where. I love you simply, without problems or pride: I love you in this way because I do not know any other way of loving but this, in which there is no I or you, so intimate that your hand upon my chest is my hand, so intimate that when I fall asleep your eyes close.

You can cut all the flowers but you cannot keep Spring from coming.

I don’t love you as if you were a rose of salt, topaz, or arrow of carnations that propagate fire: I love you as one loves certain obscure things, secretly, between the shadow and the soul.

And one by one the nights between our separated cities are joined to the night that unites us.

You are like nobody since I love you.

I crave your mouth, your voice, your hair. Silent and starving, I prowl through the streets. Bread does not nourish me, dawn disrupts me, all day I hunt for the liquid measure of your steps.

I love you without knowing how, or when, or from where. I love you straightforwardly, without complexities or pride; so I love you because I know no other way.

To feel the love of people whom we love is a fire that feeds our life.

I discovered, far too late, that love is a career.

Your laughter is the only music that makes me dance.

I love you as the plant that never blooms, but carries in itself the light of hidden flowers.

Pablo Neruda Quotes part 2

I love you without knowing how, or when, or from where. I love you simply, without problems or pride.

Tonight I can write the saddest lines

Love is so short, forgetting is so long.

And this is what happened, and how I began to love her when I opened my eyes to develop the photographs I had taken at there river, there were three things I could capture: rain, wet stones, and her.

Love, how may I enter your great cattle-barn?

I am no longer in love with her, that’s certain, but maybe I love her. Love is so short, forgetting is so long.

Your heartbeat sound is the greatest thing in the universe.

Let me live in your eyes and in your dreams

Love is a bridge that goes from heart to heart.

For me, love is eternal, it cannot be erased.

You are like nobody since I love you.

The night is shattered and she is not with me.

I crave your mouth, your voice, your hair.

Love is so short and oblivion so long.

I want you to know one thing. You know how this is: if I look at the crystal moon, at the red branch of the slow autumn at my window, if I touch near the fire the impalpable ash or the wrinkled body of the log, everything carries me to you, as if everything that exists, aromatic, ripe, delicious, were little boats that sail toward those isles of yours that wait for me.

I get sad anywhere, it’s not because of place, it’s because of a person.

Love is so short, forgetting is so long.

Laughter is the language of the soul.

I love you as one loves certain obscure things, secretly, between the shadow and the soul.

You are my other half – the one who completes me in every way.

I love you without knowing how, or when, or from where. I simply love you, without problems or pride.

My hands are tie up by the threads of your hair.

Being with you feels like a constant celebration of life.

A very small space contains the first star of the night.

You are like the night, with its stillness and constellations.

Love is a rebellious bird that nobody can tame.

Love is the door to eternity.

You can cut all the flowers but you cannot keep Spring from coming.

I love you without knowing how, or when, or from where. I love you simply, without problems or pride.

I crave your mouth, your voice, your hair. Silent and starving, I prowl through the streets. Bread does not nourish me, dawn disrupts me, all day I hunt for the liquid measure of your steps.

Everything I do, I do it with passion and love.

My love, if you live to be a hundred, I want to live to be a hundred minus one day so I never have to live without you.

I want to do to you what spring does to cherry trees.

In you the rivers sing and my soul flees in them as you desire and love where you seek me, love where you intend my search.

Don’t ask for love; love has to find you.

I love you without knowing how, or when, or from where. I love you simply, without problems or pride: I love you in this way because I do not know any other way of loving but this, in which there is no I or you, so intimate that your hand upon my chest is my hand, so intimate that when I fall asleep your eyes close.

Let us forget with generosity those who cannot love us.