First Love Quotes

When did you first fall in love?""I think, I first fell in lovewhen I was in fifth gradewith this boy who kept his glass ruler in the sunlight and made rainbows on my desk with it.

Love is not about making promises but it is about believing

I was sure I fell in love with him again like the usual. He did things that made me go back to him. Once again, it scared me half to death.

Maybe we tried to leave as much memories of ourselves with each other because we knew one day we wouldn't be together any more.

You've always been my safe place, my escape when life gets crazy. You're my calm through every storm.

No matter where I am in my life, no matter what I am doing, I will never be far from you in my heart. I may be moving on, but I’m not moving away from you. You will always be in my soul, a part of my present, and a fleeting dream for my future." ~Emma Ranstein

In each club we went the dancers had the same moves, none nearly as sensuous as mine on any dance floor, but because they are scantily clad and stripping off the men go nuts and throw money at them. In the largest club and the last we went to I watched one pretty girl with big boobs pull a handful of twenties in one set. I followed her to the ladies-room to learn she only danced a few rounds per night and averaged $250 every night and with my face and body she said I would bank much more.

Every kind of love, it seems, is the only one. It doesn’t happen twice. And I never expected that you could have a broken heart and love with it too, so much that it doesn’t seem broken at all.

You reached into my chest with your words. When you spoke, my heart danced. Love muddled thoughts based in reason. Interest withered like a flower in dry heat then your words wrapped themselves around my heart and yanked it from my body. Now I stand bewildered by the sight of my heart beating on the cold concrete floor.

LOGAN: You see, Blake, the thing is, I don’t give a sh*t what other people think.

That first love. And the first one who breaks your heart. For me, they just happen to be the same person.

I know what it feels like to miss everything about him--the way he smells, the way his mouth curls up when he laughs, his voice.

Her mouth set. "I've already lost one man I loved tonight. I will not lose the other." She glared at him. "And curse you, you stone head, for making me say it first.

I was sixteen, and I honestly believed I was due a love story.

I could take back those moments that snatched you away from me or maybe just wipe away those ten minutes when you came to me for the first time and I looked into your eyes to realise what love is.

Think of that person you knew when you were a kid, who you always thought you could have loved completely and forever.Well, you could have. It’s the truth, and it’s the saddest and simplest thing. There isn’t just one person for each of us in the world. There aren’t many, but there are always a few people we could have made it with, that maybe we still want to make it with, that press themselves so close to our hearts they leave scars, and then slip through our fingers and disappear from our lives. And it doesn’t make a difference if you’re thirteen or ninety- eight because some things you feel are real, no matter when.

While she could hardly fathom what had just happened to her that night, she reached some conclusions before she fell asleep, certain things now made perfect sense; Moon River didn’t sound so syrupy, mistletoe wasn’t such a bad idea, and perhaps dating was not such a frivolous waste of time after all.

The vacancy in your heart doesn't connotes that nobody is seeking for the job of servicing your feelings, but because the employee must first have all the necessary credentials needed for the job.

Our eyes met and a never-before feeling entered our hearts. We gazed at each other longingly. We were indeed smitten by each other. Even before we realised, our lips locked. Ah, my first kiss. I had heard stories of how the first kiss is etched in one’s memory forever. This was absolute bliss. I felt a sense of belonging, a sense of togetherness. He took me by surprise with his proposal of love for me. Those magical words still linger in my heart. My dream of finding the right man had become a reality.

There's not such thing as handsome princes, she told herself.There's no such thing as happily ever after.She looked up at Park. Into his golden green eyes.You saved my life, she tried to tell him.Not forever, not for good. Probably just temporarily. But you saved my life, and now I'm yours. The me that's right now is yours. Always.

Memories haunting her,laughters chasing her,sweet talks stalking her.Everywhere she go,everything she does,it all leads back to him.

Lips that have tasted the salt of tears always give the sweetest kiss.

People never forget two things, their first love and the money they wasted watching a bad movie.

Logan felt like Icarus. He had never felt so free and blissfully alive as he did whenever he was with her. The closer he got to her the higher and happier he felt. Even at the mention of her name his heart would pound incessantly and all the giddy feelings he didn’t quite understand would suddenly reemerge. Every glance upon her blinding beauty cast a shadow upon every other girl for him. Everyone else paled in comparison to her. With every passing moment he had somehow discovered something new and exciting about her. With her by his side he could feel the light breeze flapping against his sides and the warmth of sunshine beating down on his handsome face. This is what it meant to be truly awake. This is what it meant to be in love. But just like Icarus he had gotten too close and had crashed and burned. As he lay crippled in the aftermath of his own destruction he wondered what hurt more the aching pangs of physical pain his body had been subjected to or the raw burning sensation he felt in his heart. He had gladly given her his heart and in return she threw it back in pieces claiming it wasn’t enough. That he wasn’t enough.

JAMIE'S SONG 'I Had No Choice':I had no choice, I had to be hers.And now she’s gone, I have to be hurt.She’s not the one that I wanted,She’s just the one that I had.She’s not the one that I’d chosen,She’s just the one I got given.I never said, ‘Hey, she’s the one for me,’It was already built in me.I didn’t say, ‘Hey, she’s so pretty,’It’s just these eyes were made to see… her.I had no choice, I had to be hers.And now she’s gone, I have to be hurt.I had no choice, that’s how it was written.I had no choice, that’s the life I got given.

The way your curious eyes were chasing mine when I stood in front of you, I knew I had known these eyes before.

Then came the most exquisite moment of her whole life passing a stone urn with flowers in it. Sally stopped; picked a flower; kissed her on the lips. The whole world might have turned upside down! The others disappeared; there she was alone with Sally. And she felt that she had been given a present, wrapped up, and told just to keep it, not to look at it — a diamond, something infinitely precious, wrapped up, which, as they walked (up and down, up and down), she uncovered, or the radiance burnt through, the revelation, the religious feeling!

Reader, I kissed her. A quiet walk we had, she and I.

I was so blessed. The first person I gave my heart to was an angel who plucked the feathers off his wings and built a nest for it.

I love you to the moon and bed.

Alas! with all her reasoning, she found, that to retentive feelings eight years may be little more than nothing.

May be its a good idea to write something about you in my book... At least then, there will be a place where we will meet everyday... and be together forever!

The joy of success lies in the process or journey -- not so much on the destination, because one destination opens the door for another. It's like the beauty of watching a blossoming flower ... a bird taking flight for the first time or a child taking the first step ... Enjoy your process today as I am.

Who are you anyway? What are you even doing here?”“Haven,” she said quietly, peeking at him.He gazed at her peculiarly. “Heaven? No, this definitely isn't Heaven. But I get why you’re confused, since I'm standing in front of you.” She stared at him, and hecracked a smile. “I'm kidding. Well, kinda… I have been told I've taken a girl to Heaven a time or two.”“Haven, not Heaven,” she said, louder than before. Nothing about the conversation made sense to her. “My name’s Haven.

LOGAN: I’ve come to learn that people are going to hate you and like you, no matter what. I’d rather be around people I want to be around.

Love, like Fortune, favours the bold.

Where Destiny sets its path,Fate shall follow...:

No one can soothe my inner being like you. No one can make me look to the future with such excitement like you did. No one can understand me, fulfill me, fit me like you did." ~Emma Ranstein

It's funny, the roles we play, the way we have to give up the old ones before we have room for the new ones. The first-first love stuff never goes away in here" she said, pointing to her head. "It makes you who you are. But in here," putting her hand on her chest, "time lets that grow and change. You'll see

He smiles at me, and I am suddenly seventeen again - the year I realize that love doesn't follow the rules, the year I understood that nothing is worth having so much as something unattainable

This is a special date but that was a special time

Oh, dear." She let her head fall back to the pillow. "There it went. I've fallen in love with you now.""Just now?" Chuckling, he came to a sitting position, resting his forearm on one bent knee. "Well, thank God for belated blessings." He ran a handthrough his hair. "It's been coming on rather longer than that for me.""What?" She sat bolt upright. "What can you mean? Since when?""From the first, Amelia. From the very first.

It is said that our destiny is set, predetermined before conception. But I myself, have never been a believer…

Falling in love is very real, but I used to shake my head when people talked about soul mates, poor deluded individuals grasping at some supernatural ideal not intended for mortals but sounded pretty in a poetry book. Then, we met, and everything changed, the cynic has become the converted, the sceptic, an ardent zealot.

The evening that Al and I met became the night that we met. By the time we fell asleep at daybreak we were different people

Ô, the wine of a womanfrom heaven is sent, more perfect than allthat a man can invent.When she came to my bed and begged me with sighsnot to tempt her towards passion nor actions unwise, tI told her I’d spare her and kissed her closed eyes, then unbraided her body of its clothing disguise.While our bodies were nude bathed in candlelight fineI devoured her mouth, tender lips divine;and I drank through her thighs her feminine wine.Ô, the wine of a woman from heaven is sent,more perfect than all that a man can invent.

My heart no longer felt as if it belonged to me. It now felt as it had been stolen, torn from my chest by someone who wanted no part of it.

BLAKE: I’ve come to learn that people are going to hate you and like you, no matter what. I’d rather be around people I want to be around.

I liked the air I was breathing, and there is absolutely nothing wrong with my head,” I assured him with a giggle. “Will you kiss me again?” I flirted sweetly.

It’s destiny; the stars have aligned perfectly to bring us together as friends. You cannot argue with what’s meant to be, once the stars have spoken, it is absolute,” he uttered, all smug and knowing. Shocked that he used the word destiny, I cocked my head and shot him a look—for the first time actually seeing Parker. He was pretty…too pretty to be a guy; streaky blond hair—as if each streak had been strategically placed—dark eyes, pale skin, and a charming smile that dimpled in one cheek. “Destiny has already found me, with a clearly marked path for my future,” I retorted. “Then you are doubly fortunate, to have it find you twice.” Parker smiled again, his eyes eerily piercing into mine.

The Female Orgasm. The Big O. That elusive, reclusive Loch Ness of the labia. Does it prove the existence of God, or just His twisted sense of humor?

Ô, the wine of a woman from heaven is sent,more perfect than all that a man can invent.

He's holding my hand! A boy is holding my hand! This is happening! I should let go. I should blush and act shy. Like a girl from the movies. But that's not what I do. I hold on.

Love has always been the chief business of my life, the only thing I have thought—no, felt—supremely worth while, and I don’t pretend that this experience was not succeeded by others. But at that time, I was innocent, with the innocence of ignorance, I didn’t know what was happening to me. I was without consciousness, that is to say, more utterly absorbed than was ever possible again. For after that first time there was always part of me standing aside, comparing, analysing, objecting: ‘Is this real? Is this sincere?’ All the world of my predecessors was there before me, taking, as it were, the bread out of my mouth. Was this stab in my heart, this rapture, really mine or had I merely read about it? For every feeling, every vicissitude of my passion, there would spring into my mind a quotation from the poets. Shakespeare or Donne or Heine had the exact phrase for it. Comforting, perhaps, but enraging too. Nothing ever seemed spontaneously my own. As the blood dripped from the wound, there was always part of me to watch with a smile and a sneer: ‘Literature! Mere literature! Nothing to make a fuss about!’ And then I would add, ‘But so Mercutio jested as he died!

I was seventeen all over again, falling into intrigue with the boy who was an exquisite contradiction.

The first love disappears, but never goes. That ache becomes reconciliation.

It seemed everyone knew their place in it, but I was in the mood where I would rather be alone and look a houseplants.

LOGAN: I think you spend too much time believing what other people see, rather than what you think.

First impression is not the last reflection of a true friend, so if you are head over heels for someone who just bought you a cake, you'd better think twice before devouring your misery.

The God of Imagination lived in fairytales. And the best fairytales made you fall in love. It was while flicking through "Sleeping Beauty" that I met my first love, Ivar. He was a six-year-old bello ragazzo with blond hair and eyebrows. He had bomb-blue eyes and his two front teeth were missing.The road to Happily Ever After, however, was paved with political barbed wire. Three things stood in my way.1. The object of my affection didn't know he was the object of my affection.2. The object of my affection preferred Action Man to Princess Aurora.3. The object of my affection was a boy and I wasn't allowed to love a boy.