Sad thing is, you can still love someone and be wrong for them.

Yet falling in love is not the same as being able to love.

One rarely falls in love without being as much attracted to what is interestingly wrong with someone as what is objectively healthy.

But to fall in love does not mean to love. One can fall in love and still hate.

The worst thing about love between human beings is that when you are prepared to love them they don't want it; when they do its you who can't bear the idea.

There are some people who would never have fallen in love if they had not heard there was such a thing.

Nothing can be loved too much,
but all things can be loved
in the wrong way.

There's always a moment when you start to fall out of love, whether it's with a person or an idea or a cause, even if it's one you only narrate to yourself years after the event: a tiny thing, a wrong word, a false note, which means that things can never be quite the same again.

You don't love someone because they're perfect, you love them in spite of the fact that they're not.

Love happens to some people, sometimes. Other times other stuff happens to other people. I’m a person like those people.

One can fall in love and still hate.

You don’t love because: you love despite; not for the virtues, but despite the faults.

Our romantic lives are fated to be sad and incomplete, because we are creatures driven by two essential desires which point powerfully in entirely opposing directions. Yet what is worse is our utopian refusal to countenance the divergence, our naive hope that a cost-free synchronisation might somehow be found: that the libertine might live for adventure while avoiding loneliness and chaos. Or that the married Romantic might unite sex with tenderness, and passion with routine.”
“Infatuations aren’t delusions. That way a person has of holding their head may truly indicate someone confident, wry and sensitive; they really may have the humour and intelligence implied by their eyes and the tenderness suggested by their mouth. The error of the infatuation is more subtle: a failure to keep in mind the central truth of human nature that everyone – not merely our current partners, in whose multiple failings we are such experts – but everyone will have something substantially and maddeningly wrong with them when we spend more time around them, something so wrong as to make a mockery of those initially rapturous feelings.
The only people who can still strike us as normal are those we don’t yet know very well. The bet cure for love is to get to know them better.

Our relationship, however, soon went awry. Occasionally, something will happen that will change your opinion of someone irrevocably, that wil shatter the ideal you've built up around a person and force you to see them for the fallible and human creature they really are.