في الحب، هناك دائما من يحب وآخر يدع الأول يحبه

...with two lovers there is always one who loves and one who lets himself be loved; it is bitter truth to which most of us have to resign ourselves; but now and then there are two who love and two who let themselves be loved.

In love, there is always one who kisses and one who offers the cheek.” –French proverb

porque el amor, según he oído decir, unas veces vuela y otras anda, con éste corre y con aquél va despacio, a unos entibia y a otros abrasa, a unos hiere y a otros mata, en un mesmo punto comienza la carrera de sus deseos y en aquel mesmo punto la acaba y concluye, por la mañana suele poner el cerco a una fortaleza y a la noche la tiene rendida, porque no hay fuerza que le resista.

One can fall in love and still hate.

There's always one who loves and one who lets himself be loved.

People fall in and out of love all the time. I wonder how they manage it.

Alcun non può saper da chi sia amato,
Quando felice in su la ruota siede:
Però c'ha i veri e i finti amici a lato,
Che mostran tutti una medesma fede.
Se poi si cangia in tristo il lieto stato,
Volta la turba adulatrice il piede;
E quel che di cor ama riman forte,
Ed ama il suo signor dopo la morte.

There are all kinds of love in this world but never the same love twice.

¿Qué nos pasó? Tal vez estamos en el mundo para buscar el amor, encontrarlo y perderlo, una y otra vez. Con cada amor volvemos a nacer, y con cada amor que termina se nos abre una herida... Estoy llena de cicatrices.

There are two kinds of love...in the safe kind you look for someone who's exactly like you. It's what most folks settle for. But then there's the other kind of love. Everyone's born with a ragged edge, and some folks crave that piece that's a perfect fit. You'll search for it forever, if you have to. And if you're lucky enough to find it, it looks so right, you start to tear at your own seams, thinking, maybe I could look just as perfect. But then, of course, when you try to get close to their other half, you don't fit anymore. That kind of love...you come out of it a different person than you were when you started.

Some cynical Frenchman has said that there are two parties to a love-transaction: the one who loves and the other who condescends to be so treated.

Nous aimons toujours ceux qui nous admirent; et nous n'aimons pas toujours ceux que nous admirons.

People can be lovers and enemies at the same time, you know. We were... A man and woman draw apart from that long embrace, and see what they have done to each other... In age we lose everything; even the power to love.