Best 9447 quotes in «romance quotes» category

A story that is more interesting than any novel written by Nicolas Spark; a relationship that has more emotions than any movie made by Karan Johar; and a drama that is more exciting than any TV show...this what we have in our 15 years of marriage and 19 years of togetherness (?)...

Astrophil and Stella," he said, taking my hand. "The name 'Astrophil' is derived from two Greek words that, when combined, mean 'star-lover.'" "So, what does that mean?" Oliver tilted his head and looked up at the sky. "That Stella is the star of his life.

Asuka...you're really cute. When I look at you...I start wanting to protect you.

As we hop out of the truck and head towards the entrance, I tell Cole that it's okay and let him know that he's not the first straight guy that I've been with. He asked, "You've been with other STRAIGHT guys?" "Yeah. So don't worry. You don't ever have to do ANYTHING that you don't wanna do. And we can do whatever you want ANYTIME you want. Or NEVER do it again. Alright?" He laughed, "I KNEW that you were a little whore." I chuckle with delight.

As you wish, sweetheart.

A sword can only pierce the body, but love can pierce the soul.

At a time like this maybe the world is looking at us not just at a miracle crusade or sunday church service but the way we are living. Maybe they want to see whether what our Master left for us worked for us; there is a counter spirit to the spirit of fear, it is the love of God.

At Fantasy's Bar & Grill we're serving up things behind closed doors that are hotter than anything you'll order from the menu!

A 'T' for Tess, a 'T' for Toby.

At his booming voice, her eyes flew open. If he wasn't already on the ground, he would have fallen to his knees. Sebastian was instantly lost. The ship fell away and there was only her. The blue of her eyes was indescribable, so light they unabashedly pulled him in. No color imaginable compared. Her eyes turned pleading. For what? He didn't know. But at that moment he would have given it to her.

A Terra dizia: Toma aqui, um presente para você. Mas o que fazemos? Nós a removemos com pás. Nós a golpeamos. Nós a raspamos. Nós a limpamos. Saia do nosso caminho. Nós a colocamos de canto.

At forty-one, he was still the quintessential bad boy—charming, at ease in his skin, and great-looking, with deep blue eyes, slicked-back brown hair, and the kind of full, sensuous mouth that bad boys seemed to have an unfair market on.

A thick, intense fog was rolling in from the ocean, which created long, strange shadows to form like creatures of their own kind.

A terrible plague has either killed mankind or transformed them into demons ... and all they want is Compton's soul. The best place to conceal esoteric information is right in front of us.

A text pops up on the screen. It’s from Luis. I can’t help but grin when I read his perfectly thought-out message. Luis: Hey

At first, I thought it was only your body I wanted. But something about you has made me greedy as hell. I want everything. Your love. Your mind. Your secrets. Your soul.

A thousand faces I saw in you.

A thousand lips, a thousand eyes, a thousand hearts will read these words, as you read them, graze them, this moment. Thousands will utter them into the abyss, someday, perhaps for years to come; loudly, softly, repeatedly, again and again and again. Some will mock, some will laugh. Some will shed a tear. But it is written only for your lips, your eyes, your heart, beloved. Do as you please. It is written by an ideal heart, intense, yet free, when in thought of you. Written from a dehydrated pen, that shed the last drops of her blood, onto you. And still, you do not know me. No, you will never know of this desire. It is a shame, when love cannot love, who she loves, amidst these mortal games. And No. It is for me to know, and for you to close the last pages of my confessions, making nothing of it. As always, like always, I write for you and for the madness that stirs in every soul that has once burned, and for the tender parts of your soul, too. Nothing is hidden, nothing is revealed. The separation between the soul and mate, between lover and the beloved, is through spirit, is it not, my love? Or is it flesh? There, there is the clue. And this, this is the nature of our love. Forbidden,closed, then left ajar in oblivion. My eyes touch your lips, your eyes touch my lips, yet, no one makes a sound. No one moves on. What madness is this? And here you go, turning the pages now, there you go.

A thousand fireworks explode inside me, and I feel them in him too, in his lips on mine, and his hands in my hair, and he way we pull each other closer. Everything else falls away, and in this moment, when we touch, we are light.

A thousand lips, a thousand eyes, a thousand hearts will read these words, as you read them, graze them, this moment. Thousands will utter them into the abyss, someday, perhaps for years to come; loudly, softly, repeatedly, again and again and again. Some will mock, some will laugh. Some will shed a tear. But it is written only for your lips, your eyes, your heart, beloved. Do as you please. It is written by an ideal heart, intense, yet free, when in thought of you. Written from a dehydrated pen that shed the last drops of her blood, onto you. And still, you do not know me.

A timeless classical love story our romance shall be… I'll paint it on vintage canvas cause your love transcends the realms defeats any measure of time and lasts forever. (fragment from "Utopia", chapter Hope)

At its heart, dance is an extension of your soul braided into the music; it’s not a bunch of steps to be memorized. Everyone can dance.

At last, somebody in line steps forward. “I can commit,” he says. He’s a tall, lean young man with a rifle slung over his back. “What’s your name?” Chris asks. “Andrew,” he replies. “And I’m in.” Chris nods. A few other guys step forward and, after a few moments, the entire crowd of ex-POWs takes one step, signifying their decision. My chest swells with pride – pride for Chris’s leadership, pride for the people willing to give their lives to take down Omega. It’s a rush.

At least I’m the one leaving. It’s so much easier to leave than to be left.

At least reindeer kisses do not cause me to take leave of my senses.

At least the presence of Harry, her tabby cat, purring softly and weaving in and out of her legs was better than no company at all.

At least, for once I was there for her. I didn’t fail her. She wasn’t alone. — Duke

At least when I'm sleeping I can dream myself back to Alex, can dream myself into a different world.

At least tell me if there's going to be a happy ending,” he said, peering into my eyes. My heart beat faster, feeling his absolute attention on me. “It's a romance novel.” “Not all romances end well.” “No, but in romance novels they do, at least in the good ones.

A tree.” She spotted one. It was hidden behind a much larger tree, its limbs misshapen in its attempt to fight for even a little sunlight in the shadow. “Dana has this tradition of giving a sad-looking tree the honor of being a Christmas tree.” She walked over to the small, nearly hidden tree. “I like this one. “It’s…” He laughed. “Ugly?” “No, it’s beautiful because it’s had a hard life. It’s struggled to survive against all odds and would keep doing that without much hope. But it has a chance to be something special.

A true romance is not something that happens between the skins. It is something that burns our souls beautifully and leaves us craving to be destroyed even more.

At that moment, she wished to never return to her home… home… Could that abusive family place be called that way?

At that very first kiss of my life I felt something melt inside me that hurt in an exquisite way. All my longings, all my dreams and sweet anguish, all the secrets that slept deep within my limbic brain came awake. I felt billions of Beach Boys playing their sweet melody inside my heart in perfect harmony with the universe.

At the empathetic tone in Sean’s voice, Lotti’s heart and stomach and head all clenched in unison. “What do you mean you can’t give me what I want?” she asked. “All you have to do is walk away.” “Tried that already,” he said. “And it was the biggest mistake of my life.” He brought her hand up to his mouth and met her gaze over their entwined hands. He was looking at her like . . . well, she wasn’t sure what was going on in his head, but her thoughts were racing along with her pulse. “You’re incredible, Lotti. I hope you know that.” Very slowly, clearly giving her time to object, he pulled her into him. Her breath caught at the connection and his eyes heated in response as he slid a hand up her spine and then back down again, pressing her in tight to him from chest to thighs and everywhere in between. His nose was cold at the crook of her neck, but his breath was warm against her skin. She felt his lips press against the sensitive spot just behind her ear and she shivered. “You’re trembling,” he said, his voice low. “Are you cold?” “No,” she whispered. Try the opposite of cold . . . “Nervous?” “No.” Not even close. The way his mouth moved across her skin was making her warm all over. Not that she could articulate that with his body pressed to hers and his fingers dancing over her skin. She was literally quivering as the memories of what it felt like to be touched by him washed over her, as if no time at all had gone by. Yes, she’d let him think that their time together had sucked for her. But it hadn’t. Not even close. That long-ago night he’d evoked feelings and a hunger in her that she’d never forgotten. “I’ve just had a long day,” she said. “I know. I’m going to make it better.” He pressed a kiss at the juncture of her jaw and ear before he made his way to her lips for a slow, hot kiss, his mouth both familiar and yet somehow brand-new. She was so far gone that when he pulled back she protested with a moan, but he held her tight, staring down at her with heated eyes. “Just checking,” he murmured. “Checking what?” “That you want this as badly as I do.

At the end of the day…we are anchoring into the peaceful lagoon, smiling at the majestic sun and its flirting rays, slowly slipping into the glittering ballroom of immense night skies, sipping on the platinum moon liquor under the blues of rippling waves kissing my golden foot hanging over the board of gently rocking boat, and diving into the bed of galaxies whispering magical stories of their eternal lives connecting souls…till the dawn…

At the heart of all romanticism is suffering

At this very moment with my girl in my arms, I feel like there’s nothing I can’t do for her, for us. — Duke

At the sound of my name, those two worlds on either side of me collide, and my lips meet his. Time ceases to exist, and so, apparently does any logic that my mind is hanging on to. Logic would say that this is insane; every other fibre of my being says it's right.

At the top of his file was a three-dimensional holograph scanned in from his military graduation. Cress preferred it to the infamous prison photo that had become so popular, the one in which he was winking at the camera, because in the holograph he was wearing a freshly pressed uniform with shiny silver buttons and a confident, one-sided grin. Seeing that smile, Cress melted. Every. Time. "Hello again, Mr. Thorne," she whispered to the holograph.

At this moment, I am obscenely happy. Please don’t screw this up or dump me or cheat on me or divorce me.” “All right,” he said.

At this place in time, neither of them were foreign to each other. They were just two humans alone in the middle of the sky. The differences between them now were immaterial, like the faint whisper of traffic far below.

At times like these, size really does matter," I point out, at I extend my ginormous umbrella over her in a way that stops any rain droplets from falling on her. My Best Valentine's Day Ever, A Short Story by Zack Love

At times Valentine wasn't sure whether he kept Matthews about because of his supreme unctuousness or because he had half a suspicion the valet was trying to kill him.

At what point is normal natural?

Auntie Elli, why are you open-mouth kissing Big Daddy Adler?" *Well, shit*

A twinge of fear entered Gwenwhyfar’s heart. It was the first she had heard of the sea farms lying in the path of danger. She wondered what had befallen a different Norseman of her acquaintance. Had her poor bodyguard, Finn, perished in one of those raids?

A veces para saber por qué llora tu alma, debes arriesgarte a mirar hacia atrás para descubrir la verdad, aunque eso signifique aceptar que la has perdido para siempre... Falco, Destino

A veces, para descubrir quién eres, hace falta romper las cadenas que te asfixian. Falco, Destino

Aunque negaré haber dicho esta cursilada, Ari es y será siempre tu mejor momento.

AVA God you are a delight you have delivered what I like heaven delivers a gift with lips heaven delivers a gift with hips God you delivered what I like oh God you are in the spotlight