Love Story Quotes - Page 16

He's already tan, and leaning on the rail in his yellow linen shirt, with the pure glory of Venice racing behind him, I think he looks like someone I'd like to run off with, if I already hadn't.

I am a mathematician and I can confidently say that the best figure ever produced is your phone number.

No one is perfect. Sometimes, it is the imperfections that make us more alive than those around us. It’s the happiness of truly breathing and living in freedom of ourselves. Even though we may look broken to the world, there is always someone who sees us as we truly are, and helps us to create our whole being.

Just don’t promise her the moon. She simply isn’t the type that would buy such a story. She only cares about love and nothing else. Can you tell her you love her?

The words we construct, the poems we write and the songs we sing, become the love story of a stranger we have never seen.

I don't know why, but people seem to be fascinated to learn how some members of society fall through the cracks. I think it's partly that feeling that... it could happen to anyone. But I think it also makes people feel better about their own lives. It makes them think, 'Well, I may think my life is bad, but it could be worse, I could be that poor sod.

Every Day is Canada Day for new Canadians

You don’t know what love is until you find it,” he whispered, “but when you do, promise me you won’t let it go. Promise you’ll seek it out even when you’re scared it’ll hurt.

I don’t know why we fight.It takes much too effort to stay mad at you.To dodge your skin in the hallwayand leave the kitchen without bringing you a treat.It takes much too effort to stare at the sinkso my eyes don’t smile at you in the mirror.It takes much too effort to look away as we undressand lie apart in the now bigger bed.It takes much too effort to stiffen my bodybecause sleepy limbs forget fightsand pride is always lost in dreams.It takes much too effort to awaken every hour to make sure we are islands with a gulf of white sheets separating us.I dread the light peeking through the parted curtainsand empathise with your groans —I didn’t get any sleep either.I really don’t know why we fight.It takes much too effort to stay mad at one anotherwhen it’s so easy for us to love.

What’s going to happen,” he breathes, “is that I’m going to carry you through this door. I’m going to draw out every single moment until you’re exhausted. And I’m going to move so slow that three months ago will feel like yesterday. And tomorrow will feel like today, and no one in this fucking universe will be able to say your name without saying mine.

Lust fades after climax, love lasts until breakfast!

Maybe love and pain are synonyms.

To love her was to taste sweet surrender. For had she not entered his life, he would have sought the wonders of both Heaven and Earth. But she surpassed them all and, by her pleasing nature, stayed him.

When I ask you to listen to meand you start to give me advice,you have not done what I asked.When I ask you to listen to meand you begin to tell me why I shouldn’t feel that way,
you are trampling on my feelings.When I ask you to listen to meand you feel you have to do something to solve my problem,you have failed me, strange as that may seem.Listen! All I ask is that you listen.Not talk or do—just hear me.I can do for myself. I’m not helpless.Maybe discouraged and faltering, but not helpless.When you do something for me that I can, and need to do for myself,
you contribute to my fear and weakness. But when you accept as a simple factthat I am feeling what I feel no matter how irrational it might be,
then I can get on with understanding what is behind this feeling.Perhaps that is why prayer works for so many people.God is silent and He doesn’t give advice or try to fix things.He just listens and lets you work it out for yourself.So, please listen and just hear me.And if you want to talk, wait a minute for your turn.Then I’ll listen to you.

Love happens only once, what happens after that is just compromise; with your heart and with your life...

In the beginning Dave and Marlene’s relationship had been fantastic. The sex was amazing. There were other good things too of course, but Dave couldn't always remember exactly what they were. But the sex had been off the scale.

Owen folded his arms around Morgan to steady her when she crashed into him, and was enveloped by her scent, her warm softness. When she gave a scared little scream, he tightened his arms in a protective reflex. She fit him perfectly, he noted distractedly. And she was soaked: he'd seen her come in from the rain, her expression frantic, just as he had rushed in the front door. His shirt was plastered to his chest between

Then his beautiful lips touched hers. A fluttering of wings, a cry of angels, a single beat of two hearts.

Love covers all shortcomings and failures, overlooks one's mistakes and does not bring to mind one's past mistakes - My Last Letter, Chapter 1

If Stalin gives you a love advice, it has to succeed.

I am pleased," he said with a rich throaty accent. My heart melted. Simple as they were, those three little words meant the world to me.

Maggie would want more from every guy she dated, every relationship she had, because she was using Jamie and Mukti’s love story as a template. And she’d always be disappointed. Neither love nor life is like a fairytale…

I want to see your dreams,” he explained. “I want to share them with you, and have you share mine as well. I don’t want them hidden in a book. I want them lived together, even—no, especially--when that’s hard.

All family stories are important, just as all people are important, and they deserve to be passed along.

I have loved this world in ways it could never love me back.

I watched you try on suits in Hugo Boss.‘For the big job,’ you said. And I laughed, because I knew I would never see it. I’d never get up and watch you put it on and walk out of the door. I would never be the one that you came home to.

the unexpected moment [is] always sweeter.

I could tell you, but you should never trust what someone says about themselves. It’s something you need to see for yourself.

I don't care about your pasti know one thingthati want to be your last

Florence could feel a constriction in her chest…She had been foolish enough to hope that whatever she was walking into would affect no one but herself. Now the truth was catching up with her at the speed of her galloping heartbeat…Now they had summoned her. And they knew everything

Closing my eyes, I breathe in the air around me.When I slowly re-enter the world, I look into the most intense brown eyes I've ever seen. My breathing catches. I can’t look away. Fuck, he's hot. I can literally feel my brain cells frying. Who's dumb as a rock now, Alexis?I feel completely frozen and can’t move. I don’t even think I want to. Blink, Richards, blink."-AlexisWhat happens to someone who has everything figured out and doesn't let anyone rattle her?To some love is exciting. To her, it's a nuisance.

I want your most vital organ. I want it to be mine.

Love can be all things.But, Just never enough.

You're actually each other's wingman. You never leave your partner vulnerable." - Graham Warner, husband of fun-loving seven-time cancer survivor Dionne Warner

To be fearlessly vulnerable with someone…One of the deepest, most desirable paradoxes of love.

No matter what luxuries you have or don't have, life is always beautiful when you are around your loved ones!

Sticks and stones may break my bones, but your words...they'll destroy my soul.

Love is the most beautiful thing that can happen to someone. No one can explain that feeling and desires engrossing a person preparing to give their heart to someone.

If you haven't fall in love yet...you haven't experienced true pain and happiness.

I don't have a love life. I have a like life.'Mamie smiled. She thought how nice that might be, to be peacefully free from love...

So you know you're a ghost?"I looked at my hands; they were transparent and glowed faintly. "Can you think of another explanation?

It is amazing what women in love will do

If walls could talk - scratch that, if walls could make sarcastic comments... well, things would be interesting.

The soul, they say, is divine and the flesh is iniquity. But I am a musician and I ask this - without the wood and the strings of the violin, where would the sonata find form?

Love is the connection between souls synchronized through heart beats. Quote from my upcoming book 'Always Be MINE

He’s an indulgent sort of man……With a quick lip and a fierce tongue, the sort of tongue that draws you in with charm and words of praise, awkward silences and desperate worships.

Yeah, 'cause you're just another vehicle goin' by and by.

There were so many things Sebastian and I had to work out: we'd both been single for so long that blending our lives together wasn't going to be easy.I'd promised Sebastian we'd find a way. He deserved to be loved for everything he was. And for whatever crazy reason he had, he loved me, too.

She started to turn around, but I tugged her hand just enough for me to see her profile as she closed her eyes. She felt it as just like I did. There was an undeniable connection between us. I pulled her into my arms and with one hand moved the stray strands of her caramel hair away from her soft skin. I saw her mouth was slightly agape, and I pulled her face towards mine. I was mere centimeters from her lips, the warmth of her breath sliding against my own.“You should go Mylie or you might regret staying,” I said softly. “I don’t want to go,” she said anxiously. Damn.

As I stared at him, elation,excitement, and lust began exploding within me like a fireworks display, rising within and bursting with a range of exquisite emotion that I had never known existed, let alone experienced, leaving me breathless, nervous, and excited.

I'd give you my heart, but you'd just give it back, so I'll give you my words instead.

You should do that more often,” he said. “Laugh, I mean.”“I know.” But that sounded sad, and she didn’t want to be sad, so she added, “I don’t often get to torture grown men, though.”“Really?” he murmured. “I would think you do it all the time.”She looked at him.“When you walk into a room,” he said softly, “the air changes.

They tell us the greatest love story is how water fell in love with fire. Or how satan fell in love with God. But the greatest love story to me is how I didn’t notice myself falling, when I fell in love with you

I feel a deep sense of responsibility when I awaken a submissive. I know the imposters who prowl hoping to pounce on the untried.

To love and be loved is a wonderful feeling.

For so long music has been my heart, but now it's you...you're my heart.

He was a boy, she was a girlCan I make it any more obviousHe was a punk, and she did ballet,What more can I sayHe wanted her,she wouldn't tell, but secretly she wanted him as well,All of her friends stuck up their nose,They didn't like his baggy clothesHe was a sk8er boi, she said see you later boy,he wasn't good enough for her

This girl is magic. She's wild incantations. She's that spark that lit me back to life and I'm burning for her.

As an artist in the 1960s, Norman Sunshine was able to maintain a moderately out lifestyle. But when the first exhibition of his paintings in New York brought on a profile in The New York Times in 1968, he was photographed in the apartment that he admitted sharing with Shayne. At both his advertising agency and Shayne’s television production company, the article was met with absolute silence.

I walked him down to the front door, and the Savannah air assaulted me as I opened the door. “This town was never the same without you.” He turned around and started his short walk home, disappearing into the black of the night.