Romance Quotes - Page 96

My guitar's name was Liz. As in, short for Elizabeth, Queen of England. She was a lady.Don't judge.

Lips move; lips touch; lips signal. Lips are on the outside for show, and on the most secret inside of your mouth. Lips frame words that lie. Lips frame a hole that wants to be filled.

I can live without you. I just don’t wish to.” ~ Joe

Most don't deserve your tears... and the ones that do will never make you cry.

I want to be special to someone again. To know I’m cared for, and not out of obligation.

Don't get me wrong. I'm happy to be your morning lollipop, but I need to eat, too.

I like to be somewhere at least where you can see a few girls around once in a while, even if they're only scratching their arms or blowing their noses or even just giggling or something.

Something happened during Matt's talk. When I sat down I was one person, but by the time he was done, I was someone else. Someone changed. Someone new. Someone I didn't know. My arms were covered in gooseflesh. My stomach was doing this buoyant, top-of-the-roller-coaster thing. Suddenly I wanted to be pretty. I wanted guys to think I was pretty. In particular, I wanted this guy to think I was pretty...

Watching my parents I've learnt a lesson many do not recognize. True love is not signaled by romantic, candle light dinners, red roses glistening with dew, or even Valentine's day celebrations. While these things may accompany our feelings, love is truly more than all those! Love is being with your spouse even when its not pleasing. Sometimes, love is walking down the hall, with your spouse hanging onto your shoulders and walking at a turtle's pace down the hall, just because surgery made life a burden. Love is patient, love is kind, love is Jesus! May we always remember love is not always tied in bows!

Dating someone exclusively for four months in New York is like four years in Anchorage.

Carlos, are we in complete understanding with each other?”“Yeah,” I say. “As long as it’s not in your house and you don’t know about it, you’re okay with us messin’ around.”“I know you’re joking with me. You are joking with me, aren’t you?”“Maybe.

My mind aches with a thousand stories. All variations with shredded threads of truth.

No one wants to rattle the cage of a "crazy" person whose family tends to snap.

Yes, I just…” Should I be honest and sound like a complete loser? Oh why the hell not? “I have not had a kiss like that in a while.” I licked my lips.He looked me dead in the eye. “Good.” A wave of silence crashed over us. I didn’t know what to say to that. “Well, I better get going. See you soon?”I nodded dumbly. “Mmm-hmm.” He smiled and began to walk away. I couldn’t just let him go! “Declan!”He turned. “Yes, Cake?”Come on, brain! Think of something! “What should I wear? I mean, what kind of place is Shellshock?” Yes, yes, that was fine… damage averted.“California casual.”“Oh, ok.” I think I knew what that meant. Spend three hours getting ready to make it look like you just threw any-ol’-thing on. “Have a nice night.”He flicked his head my way. “You too.” Then he was gone.And then I was sad.It was ridiculous. Preposterous, even. I was going to have to come clean about the ring- eventually. I hoped he didn’t bring it up because I would probably tell the poor guy my life story to get to why the ring he bought meant so much to me.

He did not want to go to his grave knowing he had risked nothing for the woman he wanted. He wasn’t an ass, though. Or if he was, he did not wish to give her incontrovertible evidence of the fact. What to say to her, then, when he knew he was likely to speak too gruffly?

She slid her fingers into his thick hair and melted while he kissed her as if there were no tomorrow. He tempted, he seduced, he enticed.And she willingly followed.

She held her hand out in front of her. “Wait.”“No,” I groaned and then cleared my throat. “I mean okay, I can wait.

I’ve learned that when people are hurting, they need a comforter, not a commentator.

Apparently, I'm a sucker for a man with belt buckles the size of Texas.

Neither of us fit in, so instead we fit together.

He was the most perfectly formed man she'd ever imagined. He was movie stars, men in underwear commercials, guys at the gym, the construction worker in the red T-shirt who'd whistled at her but she'd pretended she hadn't heard; he was the men in three-piece suits whose brains were as sexy as their bodies; he was lazy, indolent seventeen-year-old boys whose muscles bulged out of their clothes, rodeo stars, and those smooth-cheeked, eyeglassed men who held their children tenderly. He was all of them.

I’ll give you what you want, Sloane,” he said. “What we both want. But think long and hard before you come to me. There are things that I like. Things that I want and expect from the woman in my bed. And I don’t play by anyone’s rules but my own.

Sometimes you just get a feeling about someone and that feeling is worth more than all of the little things put together.

And worse, far worse – he wasn't just kissing me. He was making me like it! And he was somehow, by some nefarious chauvinistic manly trick managing to make me kiss him back!

You play those dimples like an exquisite orchestra, Mr. Boomer.

I lost myself there — my mind imaging what was under his towel and what I would like to do to him. - Emma

Sex is more exciting on the screen and between the pages than between the sheets

He towered over her, dwarfing her with his height and the bulk of his body which was clothed in the way of a mortal gentleman. He felt and heard that voice tremble inside her, replaced the rational voice she allowed to go unchecked. 'He could break me, hurt me, dominate me'."Not break. Not hurt." he murmured as he raised a hand to her cheek and smoothed his fingers down its softness, "But dominate you? Yes. Master you? yes. Make you yield to what you want, make you surrender to who you truly are? Yes.

Do not live life without a spark of love.

These times of woe afford no time to woo.

He was going to need God Almighty to come down from On High to explain this one.

This has to be the most self-centered thing I've ever said, but no, I think you just wanted to vex me.

Some lovers were fortunate enough to grow old together. They’d grown old apart. She did not think him any less handsome. She only wished that she’d been there when the first line on his face had appeared, so that she could have stroked and kissed and cherished it.

Marry me. You'll learn to love me, I promise.

What do you see when you look at me?”My eyes narrowed and I pressed my lips together, weighing my thoughts. All of his bimbo admirers aside, what did I see? What did my gut tell me about this man? What did it say that allowed me to wind up here with him, under such impulsive circumstances?“You’re a sad man,” I swallowed. “You’re arrogant and set in your ways, but that creates a fortress for you. It’s your safe haven. Behind the moat is someone who has lost something he loved, only I’m not sure what, or who. You’re afraid of something and your loyalty is hidden away in a cell, wounded by betrayal.” I rested my head on the pillow. “That’s what I see.”“On second thought,” he exhaled, letting his head drop next to mine. “You’re psychic.

I'm not some possession." I pushed at his chest once more. "No, you're not." His mouth returned to mine. "You are my wife." I continued to struggle with the mass of him. He pulled his head back. "You're the only woman I've loved since I lost my mother and sister." His eyes intent on mine. Torn by my anger and his admission, I stopped protesting. His mouth moved against my neck and his body pressed into mine. "I have loved you for so long.

A man and a woman represent two heavenly beings.

There’s always time for arguin’ when you’re a Fuentes.

They filled our world with weapons aimed at foreheads and smiled as they shot 16 candles right through our future. They killed those strong enough to fight back and locked up the freaks who failed to live up to their utopian expectations.

Kitty's always saying how origin stories are important.At college, when people ask us how we met, how will we answer them? The short story is, we grew up together. But that's more Josh's and my story. High school sweet-hearts? That's Peter and Gen's story. So what's ours, then?I suppose I'll say it all started with a love letter.

I would want forever with you.

ESPE: So, in both conversations, Lama Sangyay steers you away from thinking directly about Epifanio or your relationship (or lack thereof) and right into the nature of your mind. So masterful.CLARA: Isn't he? I hate those instructions. I do not want to do those contemplations. I want Epifanio!ESPE [laughing]: Of course you do. How does it feel to want?CLARA: "Et tu, Brute?"ESPE: Oh, sí, Señora. ¡Yo también!

You broke my heart.I fell for you and you broke my heart.Period, done, end of story.

Robert, I’m sorry that you feel so strange, but I’m not sorry that you’re feeling it because of me,” I whispered, my heart feeling a familiar twinge as I continued, “but even if you hadn’t felt it, it would not change the way I feel about you.

Maybe I'll paint you white. Fuck. You'd love that, woudn't you? Have my come all over your body.

Because once you give your body to a guy, there's no taking it back. And once you've done that it opens up feelings, emotions and vulnerabilities you never knew you were capable of having. I'm not ready to give him my heart. What if he breaks it?

No, this, she felt, was real life and if she wasn’t as curious or passionate as she had once been, that was only to be expected. It would be inappropriate, undignified, at thirty-eight, to conduct friendships or love affairs with the ardour and intensity of a twenty-two-year-old. Falling in love like that? Writing poetry, crying at pop songs? Dragging people into photo-booths, taking a whole day to make a compilation tape, asking people if they wanted to share your bed, just for company? If you quoted Bob Dylan or T.S. Eliot or, God forbid, Brecht at someone these days they would smile politely and step quietly backwards, and who would blame them? Ridiculous, at thirty-eight, to expect a song or book or film to change your life. No, everything had evened out and settled down and life was lived against a general background hum of comfort, satisfaction and familiarity. There would be no more of these nerve-jangling highs and lows. The friends they had now would be the friends they had in five, ten, twenty years’ time. They expected to get neither dramatically richer or poorer; they expected to stay healthy for a little while yet. Caught in the middle; middle class, middle-aged; happy in that they were not overly happy. Finally, she loved someone and felt fairly confident that she was loved in return. If someone asked Emma, as they sometimes did at parties, how she and her husband had met, she told them:‘We grew up together.

I’ve told you before, ma chérie, love is not about submission. It is the willingness to give of yourself. That is a great power and gift, if you allow yourself to wield it.

Then maybe you’ll believe me when I say…you’re pretty fucking special, Laney Hill.

The early dew-falls that did a pristine coating,over the woods with its finest transparency,glazed as like its wet white-glassy earrings that hung on the ears of wild flowers—unlatched my fancy.

Affection is invaluable. I will accept your heart as payment and change your mind.

Three essential keys (FAITH, HOPE and LOVE) will open the Heavens door.

And here, finally here in this place, in these circumstances, I will really have to kill him. And Snow will win. Hot, bitter hatred courses through me. Snow has won too much already today. It's a long shot, it's suicide maybe, but I do the only thing I can think of. I lean in and kiss Peeta full on the mouth. His whole body starts shuddering, but I keep my lips pressed to his until I have to come up for air. My hands slide up his wrists to clasp his. "Don't let him take you from me." Peeta's panting hard as he fights the nightmares raging in his head. "No. I don't want to..." I clench his hands to the point of pain. "Stay with me." His pupils contract to pinpoints, dilate again rapidly, and then return to something resembling normalcy. "Always," he murmurs.

Hades was the personification of dark and dangerous--a living, breathing Batman.

We will never have an expiration date. Our love is destined to exist forever.

He was definitely taking his bodyguard duties seriously tonight. He gave off a take-one-step-closer-and-I-will-show-you-Armageddon vibe.

She narrowed her gaze. “I don’t trust you to keep your eyes closed.”“Smart woman,” he said. “I wouldn’t trust me, either, if I were you.

Dead. Supposedly Suicide. That's how they'll kill Michael too. Make it look like a suicide or an accident of some sort.

Embrace the love of your life.

Damn, she was getting so tangled up by guilt and desire. ~Nikki in Texas Tangle