The more we love a woman the more prone we are to hate her.

Francois de La Rochefoucauld, "Reflections; or Sentences and Moral Maxims"

There is no disguise which can long hide love where it exists, nor feign it where it does not.

Francois de La Rochefoucauld, "Reflections; or Sentences and Moral Maxims"

But being in love doesn't mean loving. You may be in love with a woman and yet hate her.

Fyodor Dostoevsky, "Brothers Karamazov"

Of course, since the affair with the Burmergelms I had exchanged not a word with Polina, nor had with her any kind of intercourse. Yet I had been at my wits' end, for, as time went on, there was arising in me an ever-seething dissatisfaction. Even if she did not love me she ought not to have trampled upon my feelings, nor to have accepted my confessions with such contempt, seeing that she must have been aware that I loved her (of her own accord she had allowed me to tell her as much). Of course the situation between us had arisen in a curious manner. About two months ago, I had noticed that she had a desire to make me her friend, her confidant - that she was making trial of me for the purpose; but, for some reason or another, the desired result had never come about, and we had fallen into the present strange relations, which had led me to address her as I had done. At the same time, if my love was distasteful to her, why had she not FORBIDDEN me to speak of it to her?

Fyodor Dostoevsky, "The Gambler"

Jump out the window if you are the object of passion. Flee it if you feel it. Passion goes, boredom remains.

Coco Chanel, "Aphorism"

Great loves too must be endured.

Coco Chanel, "Aphorism"

And the outspoken honesty of his character was such that on any subject even that of her love for, or marriage with, another man, the same disinterestedness of opinion might be calculated on, and be had for the asking. Thoroughly convinced of the impossibility of his own suit, a high resolve constrained him not to injure that of another. This is a lover's most stoical virtue, as the lack of it is a lover's most venial sin.

Thomas Hardy, "Far From The Madding Crowd"