Best 9447 quotes in «romance quotes» category

It’s hard to find words to explain why you love someone, they don’t make words with that much passion. And even if they did, there isn’t a perfect combination of syllables and sounds to create a word strong enough to explain love. Love is just a filler word, a useless word that tries to do a job that no word can.

It's impossible to know if he moves first or if Henry does, but they meet in the middle of the room, Henry's arms around Alex's neck, swallowing him up. If Henry's voice on the phone was a tether, his body is the gravity that makes it possible, his hand gripping the back of Alex's neck a magnetic force, a permanent compass north.

It's just like in a Brazilian serial! Destiny has brought us together.

It’s just you and me right now… No one’s going to hurt us.

It’s like he’s picking up parts of the world and showing them to me, saying, See? It’s beautiful.

it’s like . . . finding a book inside another book. A small treasure of a book hidden inside a big common one—like . . . spells printed on dragonfly wings, discovered tucked inside a cookery book, right between the recipes for cabbages and corn. That’s what a kiss is like, he thought, no matter how brief: It’s a tiny, magical story, and a miraculous interruption of the mundane.

It’s just a party, right? What could possibly go wrong?

It's just me throwing myself at you, romance as usual, us times us, not lust but moxibustion, a substance burning close to the body as possible without risk of immolation.

It's just the end of some things. And the beginning of others.

It's just a kiss, she mentally swore. But kiss was much too simple a word to call the powerful connection that simply rocked her world.

It’s like I’m suddenly a hormonally charged teenager or living in a bad romance novel: I suddenly can’t stop myself from noticing every man around me. Which means that Darcy, Samantha, and Michael are probably right. Plus, there was that disturbing dream about Voldemort this morning. I need to lose my gay-husband virginity before I lose my mind entirely. I need to find someone to sleep with me. And the fact that I don’t have the faintest idea how to make that happen is just further proof that it needs to. —SINGLE-MINDED

It’s just the love for her in my heart that is morphing into this madness and how can I run away from it? Sometimes I want to when I can’t bear it anymore, but where will I go?

It’s like a domino effect. After all the time of neatly putting the pieces together, one wrong move, one moment of distraction, and all of it comes falling down. The same happens to us. While ignoring all those moments that happened, all the situations when we wanted to do something, make a move and let our impulses take over, we put them neatly one behind other and now it comes crashing down around us.

It's like some part of me is always with you" she said. I looked at the sky and smiled.

It smelled delicious but tasted of jealousy.

It's morning now, and I miss the soft rasp of her voice already. Ugh. I'm in trouble, aren't I?

It’s my Prom King, Brett. He’s tapping at the window, wanting me to roll it down or to get out of the car — what an image that would be. How will I ever live that down? I can’t even see myself laughing about it twenty years from now. If the neighbors walk past they’ll probably report me to social services, I can hear them on the phone now, “She’s too lazy to even go to the bathroom, she just shits in her car.

It’s like your whole life you’ve been falling toward the earth, until the moment someone catches you. And you realize that somehow you’ve caught her at the same time. And together, instead of falling, you might be able to fly.” The ghost went to the discarded clipping and stared down at the photo, riveted. “She’s a beaut, isn’t she?” “Sure,” Alex said automatically, although there was nothing of Zoë’s sparkling allure in the photo, only a hint of resemblance.

It slowly began to dawn on me that I had been staring at her for an impossible amount of time. Lost in my thoughts, lost in the sight of her. But her face didn't look offended or amused. It almost looked as if she were studying the lines of my face, almost as if she were waiting. I wanted to take her hand. I wanted to brush her cheek with my fingertips. I wanted to tell her that she was the first beautiful thing that I had seen in three years. The sight of her yawning to the back of her hand was enough to drive the breath from me. How I sometimes lost the sense of her words in the sweet fluting of her voice. I wanted to say that if she were with me then somehow nothing could ever be wrong for me again. In that breathless second I almost asked her. I felt the question boiling up from my chest. I remember drawing a breath then hesitating--what could I say? Come away with me? Stay with me? Come to the University? No. Sudden certainty tightened in my chest like a cold fist. What could I ask her? What could I offer? Nothing. Anything I said would sound foolish, a child's fantasy. I closed my mouth and looked across the water. Inches away, Denna did the same. I could feel the heat of her. She smelled like road dust, and honey, and the smell the air holds seconds before a heavy summer rain. Neither of us spoke. I closed my eyes. The closeness of her was the sweetest, sharpest thing I had ever known.

It's love when someone can touch you without using their hands.

It's more than words & somehow more than actions could ever show. It's hard to explicate this feeling I have for you, but it's one I could live out the rest of my days trying to make you understand.

It's not compromise if it doesn't sting just a little bit on both sides, now is it?

It’s not a war. It’s an annihilation,” he’d mumbled low for her ears only. She’d been unable to respond, only focusing on her own breath and marveling that she in fact was still breathing.

...it’s not him that you’re still pining after, it’s the lost time. You’re mourning what should’ve been more so than what really was. You feel robbed as well you should, but not for the right reasons.

It’s nothing. It’s fine.” Ryan spins back around, walks the three steps to the marble counter and downs half my glass of wine. Yeah. Sure. Nothing. And if I continue to eat cherry Danish for breakfast every morning, my ass won’t spread

It's not a romance, it's a love story.

It`s not darkness that turns off the lights in your life, it`s your sadness that does it.

It's not the small of her back, her thighs, or her chest or eyes that matter most. It's the parts of her she's afraid to show that you should get to know.

It’s not really wine,” he said. “It’s Diet Coke. And if anyone ever serves you brown wine with a foamy head, send it back.

...it’s not the same fighting for something without someone to fight by your side, to share in what you believe in and what you fight for. Sword and shield. Fighter and defender. Someone to always have your back."--Arcane

It's not that he hated the wooden cube. It's what was inside it that he didn't like.

It’s not that we have to leave this life one day, it's how many things we have to leave all at once: holding hands, hotel rooms, wine, summertime, drunkenness, and the physics of falling leaves, clothing, myrrh, perfumed hair, flirting friends, two strangers' glance; the reflection of the moon, with words like, 'Soon' ... 'do you want me?' ... '...to lie enlaced' ... 'and sleep entwined' thinking ahead, with thoughts behind...?' Ô, Why! Why can’t we leave this life slowly?

It's not the way I wanted to spend eternity with the man I love, but it will have to do. At least we are together.

it’s okay if college isn’t your thing. I’m sure there’s a pole somewhere with your name on it, but next time you might not want to buy your tits off Craig’s List. Just sayin’....Danny James

It’s okay to let go,” she whispered when I had a long day. All I wanted was a cold, hard drink—something to cool my nerves and the flame inside me. “Just give yourself to me, Vinny. Don’t worry about drinking. Get drunk on me. Take me.

It’s okay babe,” I say softly, and he immediately relaxes and hugs me tight in a crushing hold. “Thank god,” he mutters. “I couldn’t bear it if we destroyed us Mabes. I don’t know what I’d do without you.” I make myself move back slightly. “I’m sure you’d manage,” I try to say lightly, and he grimaces. “I wouldn’t,” he says thickly. “You’re everything to me.

it’s okay if college isn’t your thing. I’m sure there’s a pole somewhere with your name on it, but next time you might not want to buy your tits off Craig’s List. Just sayin’.

It's obvious, I have a crush on you.

It’s one of those laughs that light up her whole face, and you can’t help but join in because it’s just that infectious.

It's one thing to say you think someone "hung the moon" but that generally means you are blind and deluded, and then the relationship fails because they say you changed, when really, they never saw you at all...The real test is if someone sees all your flaws or blemishes or individual differences, and they still think you hung the moon.

It sounds cool to say you are going to fight with a pen not a sword but violence with words is still violence ..

It's over," I say, wincing- she punches harder than she realizes. I ignore the pain and run a hand over her hair, because I'm stupid, and inappropriate, and stupid...

It's ridiculously easy to fall in love, even the animals can do that - what's hard is to sustain that love for life, which most animals can't do, but the humans can.

It's strange, but I find myself more disillusioned by a man who has such easily persuaded views than I would be by one whose views were entirely opposite but passionately held. Isn't that quixotic of me?

It starts between two suns Between dream and sleep Like a sigh after oblivion -The way you hold the night. It goes on in a kiss So many pains exchanged Like a song of compassion -The way you reveal my name. It ends In my body It ends In a shiver Where we remain only Two souls And, naturally, We recognize each other.

It's ridiculously easy to fall in love, what's hard is to sustain that love for life.

It’s so nice to see you again,” he said. He spoke as though it had been a while, and I nodded in agreement. As I’d assured Stanton, Adrian knew too much familiarity between us might create a trail back to Jill. “Did I just hear you two talking about building good relationships?” I was tongue-tied, so Ian answered. “That’s right. We’re here to make things friendlier between our people.” His voice, however, was most decidedly unfriendly. Adrian nodded with all seriousness, like he hadn’t noticed Ian’s hostility. “I think it’s a great idea. And I thought of something that would be an excellent gesture of our future together.” Adrian’s expression was innocent, but there was a mischievous sparkle in his eye that I “knew all too well. He held out his hand to me. “Would you like to dance?

It’s so peaceful. I could go to sleep in here.” His eyes flickered to me once more, and for a dizzying second I wasn’t thinking about sleep or storms but about pressing my lips to his. I gave my head a slight shake and tried to slow my pulse

It's the most beautiful thing I have ever seen." He laughed. "No, honey, that would be you.

It’s the song of a man trying to forget a woman, but then he realizes it’s impossible, that not being with her is harmful and he dies of despair, not knowing whether she still wants to be with him.