Lovers Quotes - Page 20

Love makes you strong when others are weak, brave when others are scared, hopeful when others are despairing and cheerful when others are sad.

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.

Lovers are always together in heart, mind and soul.

Lovers are food for each other to sustain their lives

Well," he said slowly, "sometimes there's a passion that comes in its springtime to ill fate or death. And because it ends in its beauty, it's what the harpers sing of and the poets make stories of: the love that escapes the years...."All or nothing, the true lover says, and that's the truth of it. My love will never die, he says. He claims eternity. And rightly. How can it die when it's life itself? What do we know of eternity but the glimpse we get of it when we enter in that bond?

Unrequited love is a ridiculous state that makes you try to convince your heart of something your mind knows is a lie!

I am part of everyone I ever dated on OK Cupid.

All beautiful distractions, ignites from you.

It is my job-no,-my privilege-to make the fire become an inferno. -Gray

The sheath that held her soul had assumed significance - that was all. She was a sun, radiant, growing, gathering light and storing it - then after an eternity pouring it forth in a glance, the fragment of a sentence, to that part of him that cherished all beauty and all illusion.

Please… Whoever you are, whatever you are… I believe in you even though I don’t completely understand you. I feel you around me even though I can’t exactly describe what I’m feeling. Sometimes things happen to me and I know that you’re there and I’m humbled by the lack of coincidence that exists in the world. Whatever you want from me, it’s yours — just please help me. You know how I get when I lose control, and I find myself constantly being pulled back there these days.

It seemed he was the perfect lover, at least for the moment. He did not live where you lived. He did not see you often enough, or for long enough, for you to grow bored, or to feel afraid that you were not feeling love---or worse, that you were. The perfection had a cost, which is that he was not in any true sense a real person. He was a coat you bought off the rack, an unsuperlative fashion statement.

Maybe that's how it starts. You stumble upon something that helps you cope, fills a void. Makes you feel something different than what you currently feel. You know in the long run it probably won't be good for you, but you do it anyway. Tell yourself you can handle it.

when whisperedwhat an exquisitesong, it makes-your name.

If the final chapter of your life story is written by love, you are guaranteed a happy ending.

To love and be loved is a wonderful feeling.

All discarded lovers should be given a second chance, but with somebody else.

Between lovers, betrayal is always the worst sin.

i know that you can easily find me .. but all i want to know is .. can you hardly looking for me ?

....finally I see that it’s never been me, just a blanket that keeps you warm. Easily tossed alongwhen something flashier or someone prettier comes along. Your heart I held so carefully, I see, this was all just a game...

Take that chance :even though this is hard, you'll get it in a peace.Leave that chance :i know it's easy, but you will always walk in regret

I held Angie Luna in that room for hours, and I remember the different times we made love like epochs in a civilization, each movement and every touch, apex upon abyss. In the luxury of our bed, we tried every position and every angle. I explored the curves on her body and delighted in seeing the freedom of her ecstasy. Her desperate whispers and pleas. I told her I loved her, and she said she loved me too. We lay in bed with our limbs entangled, in a pacific silence that reminded me of existing on a beach just for the sake of such an existence. I couldn't imagine the world ever becoming better, and for some strange reason the thought slipped into my head that I had suddenly grown to be an old man because I could only hope to repeat, but never improve on, a night like this. I finally took her home sometime when the interstate was empty, and the bridges seemed to lead to nowhere, for they were desolate too.

What should I call you? A friend, a stranger, or a lover? I remember the day you laid your eyes on me the first time. There was just something unwavering about that moment. It wasn’t peaceful or absolute. It was definite. Something that was bound to happen. It was like as if our souls were waiting for us to collide. And oh we did! We collided like meteors, giving this universe a spectacular view. From my 2 am thought that used to keep me up at night, you soon became my 2 am call. From an almost stranger to my skin, you became a part of me. But just like every collision, ours also had to end in destruction. The 2 am call soon became a 2 am thought. The thought still keeps me up at night, but not for the same reasons. From strangers to lovers and lovers to strangers again, our journey hasn’t been ordinary. Someone asked me about you today and for a moment, I didn’t know what to call you. Who are you to me now? A friend – no. Definitely not a lover. I guess, you and I – we are just strangers with memories.

My wife is a thief...She takes the last cookieTakes forever to get readyShe takes her time in the showerTakes all of the hot waterShe takes my favorite seat on the couchTakes the high road when I lose controlMy wife is a thief...She took my last nameTook the time to get to know me, love meShe took the back seat and let me leadTook on motherhood and the emotional toll that it bringsShe took care of me the many times that I've gotten sickTook on the pain of pregnancy so that the Jackson legacy would live onMy wife takes, and takes, and takes...I'm so proud of my perpetual thief who stole my heart and won't give it back.

He was not sure, but liked it. It recurred when they met suddenly or had been silent. It beckoned to him across intellect, saying, "This is all very well, you're clever, we know—but come!" It haunted him so that he watched for it while his brain and tongue were busy, and when it came he felt himself replying, "I'll come—I didn't know.""You can't help yourself now. You must come.""I don't want to help myself.""Come then."He did come. He flung down all the barriers—not at once, for he did not live in a house that can be destroyed in a day.

These were the things we would never notice were missing.

All I wanted was to share myself with him...in a love way, lust way, every kind of way.

Best (male-female) friends hardly differ from lovers, but not too many lovers are best friends.It's just ironical that you are in love and want to spend the rest of your life with someone who is not good enough to be your best friend.

I dream of being there,Where the skies lie below,Clouds flow like the endless river,Where all the divinity is before me, with me,And in the shadows yet above all,Above all who choose to hide,I run along the stars,Wake up the ever-glowing sky,And sleep to the sound of the universes beating heart...

If sleep wasn't necessary, I would have used those 8 hours to gaze at you.

Nor that he's regarding my face with the same intensity I am his. We're two paintings staring at each other across a room.

If I love one lover,...I have loved many more.

He laid his head on Reid's shoulder and shut his eyes, buoyed toward sleep by the affectionate comb of fingers through his hair. He could stay just so, and be content for all his days.

Love is a renewable resource

A smile is worth dozens of words, but a kiss is worth a thousand.

Let us choose one another as companions!Let us sit at each other's feet!Inwardly we have many harmonies - think notThat we are only what we see.

While gently pushing her towards the dressing room, Lazarus ventured, "Can I ask you something kind of personal?"Pulling her shirt over her head behind the curtain, and holding her hand out for the corset, she replied, "Anything for you, Laz.""How are you still friends with him?""Can you hook this thing?" Holding the corset on her stomach, Lazarus peeked through the curtain, fingers deftly snapping the twenty hook-and-eye latches. "He saved my life. There are a million reasons to hate him, but there are a million and one reasons to forgive him for his faults."Twisting to look in the mirror, adjusting her breasts in the tight silk, she continued, "He'll say the worst thing at the worst possible time, except every once in awhile, he says the one most perfect thing that just makes you want to cry from happiness. He knows the exact way you need to be touched at any moment, in any mood, like he's fucking telepathic. He'll make you want to scream when he ignores you, but then you find out he knows your favorite color, your favorite meal, what movie makes you cry and he can list every little thing in the entire world that you hate. And mostly? Well," Turning to face Lazarus and strike a pose, "I just can't fucking stop.

I don't have time, energy, or interest in hating the haters; I'm too busy loving the lovers.

Cocky little king. You assume you're the only one that gives me satisfaction?"His smile widens as he lifts one of my arms and kisses the sensitive skin of my wrist. "If there is something in this world that can please you more than me," he says, his warm breath caressing my skin, "then I'll be extra diligent in my duties tonight, my queen. Indulge me with every sensation that gives you pleasure, and I will match it and more."Whatever retort was on my tongue vanishes, his heated words stealing all reason from my mind. Only one lingers: queen. Hearing him refer to me as his intended opens my heart like the sea opens to the sky, and I am his.

Now come the whispersbearing bouquets of moonbeamsand sunlight tremblings.

I promised her that I would never kiss and tell, but I have to tell someone about my dreams and fairytales. So I’m telling you that I kissed her.

The longer the silence remains untouched the longer the miscommunication creates its own stories.

We all have a " someone " who we carry in our hearts sometimes for an entire lifetime. That one that just doesn't fully remove itself from your journey, reminded at coffee shops through scent and character of a stranger, or a song that you once shared. Years can go by without a thought and then one day you are reminded and it all comes crashing back. The one that could have been, the one that you never knew exactly how to say goodbye to. The one you wish to meet first in another life.

Let us be greedy together; let us hoard. Let us hit each other with birch branches and lock each other in dungeons; let us drink each other's blood in the night and betray each other in the sun. Let us lie and lust and take hundreds of lovers; let us dance until snow melts between us. Let us steal and eat until we grow fat and roll in the pleasures of life, clutching each other for purchase.

Life is a beautiful journey, full of joy and painYou never know when it will end, don’t let a moment pass in vain…In the whole ruckus of life, nothing had I gained,I just wanted freedom, no more did I wanted to be chained…

Finally, both of them fell asleep together with their limbs entwined in the eternal position of a lover's embrace.

I wish that love could be broken down the way it breaks me down.

Then an odd thing happened. Britney put her finger on the ridge of the painted glass and rubbed it. It made a perfect noise. The kind of noise that goes on and on as a beautiful noise does once it has wrung the ear. It was the chord of the wild sea.

Men are from Mars and Women are from Venus. Where are Angels like you are from?

Come on, Oliver. I’m saying no.”“Is it a fake no? Because your body keeps saying yes.”“My body doesn’t know anything.”“What does your heart say?”“That’s number one on my list of unenlightened organs. It believes anything it hears. It’s screwed up in some way.

I’ve been able to see all that I’ve needed, my love: your kindness, your compassion, your tenderness, your love, and your soul. These are all I care about.Of course you do and I don’t expect anything different from you. But next time, I will give you more. You’ll see the colours of every season.

If you put all of your eggs in love’s basket, joy will hatch.

He told her over and over how beautiful she was but, to her, his beauty was beyond any words she would ever be able to speak.

My Love wakes in a puddle of sunlight.Her hands asleep beside her.Her hair draped on the lawnlike a mantle of cloth.I give her my troth, for our love is wholeI sing her beauty in my soul

He paused leaning over to lay his lips on hers, “It’s time to feel again. Let me save you from yourself. You were drowning when I found you, but I’m not letting you go, not without a fight.” He kissed her sweetly and moved back standing up and over her. Lena looked up at his out stretched hand.“Take my hand Lena.” He offered and she knew he meant it in a way that went far beyond offering to help her stand.

In the depths of the ocean; Dipped in love without expectations, We have stripped off our masks.

You soul is only satisfy with your soul-spirit, soul mate.

Love is the greatest drug; joy is the strongest medicine; virtue is the noblest remedy; together, they are the greatest therapy.

Every word that he had spoken amongst the amassed beauties of Macmaster furnishings had been a link in a love-speech. It was not merely that he had confessed to her as he would have to no other soul in the world - 'To no other soul in the world,' he had said! - his doubts, his misgivings, and his fears; it was that every word he uttered and that came to her, during the lasting of that magic, had sung of passion. If he had uttered the word 'Come', she would have followed him to the bitter ends of the earth; if he had said, 'There is no hope', she would have known the finality of despair. Having said neither, she knew: 'This is our condition; so we must continue!' And she knew, too, that he was telling her that he, like her, was… oh, say, on the side of the angels.

That's when I finally got it. I finally understood. It wasn't the thought that counted. It was the actual execution that mattered, the showing up for somebody. The intent behind it wasn't enough. Not for me. Not anymore. It wasn't enough to know that deep down, he loved me. You had to actually say it to somebody, show them you cared. And he just didn't. Not enough.