I just called to say I love you,
I just called to say how much I care,
I just called to say I love you,
And I mean it from the bottom of my heart.
I will probably be too much for some people.
Those people are not My People.
Some people are uncomfortable with silences. Not me. I’ve never cared much for call and response. Sometimes I will think of something to say and then I ask myself: is it worth it? And it just isn’t.
Selfishness comes from too little self-love, not too much, as we compensate for our lack. There’s no such thing as caring for the self too much, just as there’s no such thing as too much genuine affection for others. Our world suffers from too little self-love and too much judgment, insecurity, fear, and mistrust. If we all cared about ourselves more, most of these ills would disappear.
I think its a sickness to grieve too much for those who never cared a fig for you.
I wanted to tell her that being loved is a talent too, that it takes as much guts and as much work as loving; that some people, for whatever reason, never learn the knack
I think some people call this love. I call it hell.
There are some few people I respect and admire, but I don't think much of the species.
She cared about him too much, and he was a dangerous person to love. He wouldn't love her back.
There's good in all of us and I think I simply love people too much, so much that it makes me feel too sad.