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Dean Koontz Quotes about Love

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Some people think only intellect counts: knowing how to solve problems, knowing how to get by, knowing how to identify an advantage and seize it. But the functions of intellect are insufficient without courage, love,

Some people think only intellect counts: knowing how to solve problems, knowing how to get by, knowing how to identify an advantage and seize it. But the functions of intellect are insufficient without courage, love, friendship, compassion, and empathy.

Dean Koontz
Love, Thinking, Compassion

Hope is the destination that we seek. Love is the road that leads to hope. Courage is the motor that drives us. We travel out of darkness into faith.

Dean Koontz
Love, Faith, Darkness
Dean Koontz (2007). “Intensity: A Novel”, p.12, Bantam

Perhaps extreme danger strips us of all pretenses, all ambitions, all confusions, focusing us more intensely than we are otherwise ever focused, so that we remember what we otherwise spend most of our lives forgetting: that our nature and purpose is, more than anything else, to love and to make love, to take joy from the beauty of the world, to live with an awareness that the future is not as real a place for any of us as are the present and the past.

Dean Koontz
Love, Real, Ambition
Dean Koontz (2007). “Fear Nothing: A Novel”, p.388, Bantam

Writing a novel is like making love, but it's also like having a tooth pulled. Pleasure and pain. Sometimes it's like making love while having a tooth pulled.

Dean Koontz
Love, Pain, Writing

Every eye sees its own special vision; every ear hears a most different song. In each man's troubled heart, an incision would reveal a unique, shameful wrong.

Dean Koontz
Love, Song, Heart
Dean Koontz (2004). “The Bad Place”, p.11, Penguin

She'd been acutely aware that terror, betrayal, and cruelty had a human face, but she had not sufficiently appreciated that courage, kindness, and love had a human face as well.

Dean Koontz
Love, Betrayal, Kindness
Dean Koontz (2001). “Dark Rivers of the Heart/Intensity/Sole Survivor: Three Complete Novels by Dean Koontz”

Civilization rests on the fact that most people do the right thing most of the time.

Dean Koontz
Love, Life, Sex

What really holds their marriage together are mutual respect of an awesome depth, a shared sense of humor, faith that they were brought together by a force greater than themselves, and a love so unwavering and pure that it is sacred.

Dean Koontz
Love, Age, Together
Dean Koontz (2007). “Forever Odd: An Odd Thomas Novel”, p.318, Bantam

No one can genuinely love the world, which is too large to love entire. To love all the world at once is pretense or dangerous self-delusion. Loving the world is like loving the idea of love, which is perilous because, feeling virtuous about this grand affection, you are freed from the struggles and the duties that come with loving people as individuals.

Dean Koontz
Love, Struggle, Ideas
Dean Koontz (2016). “The Complete Odd Thomas 8-Book Bundle: Odd Thomas, Forever Odd, Brother Odd, Odd Hours, Odd Apocalypse, Odd Interlude, Deeply Odd, Saint Odd”, p.912, Bantam

My life would be constrained by the horror and fierce rage that my appearance inspired, but I would know peace as well as fear, tenderness as well as brutality, and even love in a time of cruelty.

Dean Koontz
Love, Age, Brutality
Dean Koontz (2013). “Wilderness (Short Story)”, p.30, Bantam

We are an arrogant species, full of terrible potential, but we also have a great capacity for love, friendship, generosity, kindness, faith, hope, and joy.

Dean Koontz
Love, Kindness, Generosity
Dean Koontz (2012). “Fear Nothing”, p.368, Hachette UK

Is there some meaning to this life? What purpose lies behind the strife? Whence do we come, where are we bound? These cold questions echo and resound through each day, each lonely night. We long to find the splendid light that will cast a revelatory beam upon the meaning of the human dream. Courage, love, friendship, compassion, and empathy lift us above the simple beasts and define humanity.

Dean Koontz
Love, Dream, Lonely
Dean Koontz, “Strangers”

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