Love, what a long way, to arrive at a kiss.
PABLO NERUDAOnly a burning patience will lead to the attainment of a splendid happiness.
More Pablo Neruda Quotes
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Give me silence, water, hope. Give me struggle, iron, volcanoes.
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Like them you are tall and taciturn, and you are sad, all at once, like a voyage.
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Someday, somewhere – anywhere, unfailingly, you’ll find yourself, and that, and only that, can be the happiest or bitterest hour of your life.
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Shyness is a condition foreign to the heart – a category, a dimension which leads to loneliness.
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Absence is a house so vast that inside you will pass through its walls and hang pictures on the air.
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Take bread away from me, if you wish, take air away, but do not take from me your laughter.
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A book, a book full of human touches, of shirts, a book without loneliness, with men and tools, a book is victory.
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It was my destiny to love and say goodbye.
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I want to do to you what spring does with the cherry trees.
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So I wait for you like a lonely house till you will see me again and live in me. Till then my windows ache.
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Hate is like a swordfish, working through water invisibly and then you see it coming with blood along its blade, but transparency disarms it.
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The birds of night peck at the first stars that flash like my soul when I love you.
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I’m not me but living matter fermenting and forming its own shapes in the fruitfulness of every day.
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To feel the love of people whom we love is a fire that feeds our life.
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Love is not about property, diamonds and gifts. It is about sharing your very self with the world around you.
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And one by one the nights between our separated cities are joined to the night that unites us.
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Love has to be flowering like the stars, and measureless as a kiss.
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Laughter is the language of the soul.
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I love you as certain dark things are to be loved, in secret, between the shadow and the soul.
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We must dream our way.
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I move in the university of the waves.
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In the house of poetry nothing endures that is not written with blood to be heard with blood.
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Death is the stone into which our oblivion hardens.
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Everything is ceremony in the wild garden of childhood.
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My feet will want to walk to where you are sleeping but I shall go on living.
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Love is a clash of lightnings
PABLO NERUDA