Best 9447 quotes in «romance quotes» category

You’ll be my queen.

You'll do fine." "What, you're psychic now?" "Didn't you know?" he asks seriously. "Must be an aftereffect of the bond.

You liked me and light found me.

You’ll never let me go, will you? Giving me the space and freedom I want isn’t your idea of love, is it? You’d rather cut me deep on earth to spare me pain in hell, whereas I think hell is right here.

You’ll be civilized or we’ll leave your arse here.” Johan... "Vital Perception

You'll want all your strength for the wedding night." I cannot think why I should need strength," she said, ignoring a host of spine-tingling images rising in her mind's eye. "All I have to do is lie there." "Naked," he said grimly. "Truly?" She shot him a glance from under her lashes. "Well, if I must, I must, for you have the advantage of experience in these matters. Still, I do wish you'd told me sooner. I should not have put the modiste to so much trouble about the negligee." "The what?" "It was ghastly expensive," she said, "but the silk is as fine as gossamer, and the eyelet work about the neckline is exquisite. Aunt Louisa was horrified. She said only Cyprians wear such things, and it leaves nothing to the imagination." Jessica heard him suck in his breath, felt the muscular thigh tense against hers. "But if it were left to Aunt Louisa," she went on,"I should be covered from my chin to my toes in thick cotton ruffled with monstrosities with little bows and rosebuds. Which is absurd, when an evening gown reveals far more, not to mention--" "What color?" he asked. His low voice had roughened. "Wine red," she said, "With narrow black ribbons threaded through the neckline. Here." She traced a plunging U over her bosom. "And there's the loveliest openwork over my...well, here." She drew her finger over the curve of her breast a bare inch above the nipple. "And openwork on the right side of the skirt. From here" --she pointed to her hip--"down to the hem. And I bought---" "Jess." Her name was a strangled whisper. "--slippers to match," she continued." Black mules with--" "Jess." In one furious flurry of motion he threw down the reins and hauled her into his lap.

You look like you could be the love child of a grizzly bear and a navy destroyer.

You love it when I’m disgusting. In fact, the dirtier I talked, the more you screamed. The sooner you admit that, the easier it will be for both of us. I only ask for one day from you, AJ. One day for my lost opportunity.

you make autumn mist taste like champagne and turn winter rain into the elixir of life itself.

You make me want to do things I’ve never done before. Never wanted to do before,’ she whispered.

You look beautiful even when you cry. I mean, not that you don’t look beautiful when you’re happy. Of course, you’re beautiful all the time. But out there in the snow, you were stunning.

You look better than sleep.

You look like an innocent angel, Shylah, but you kiss like fucking sin.

You love me.” He kept gazing upward, his answer coming softly. “Yeah. I do.

You love Robert, not me. You don’t love Lord Stuffy, so I tried to be like Robert.” The sweet idiot! She felt like weeping again. She began to protest, but he cut her off. “I don’t drink and I don’t gamble and I don’t have a mistress. I’m dull. You told me so, the first time we met. So I tried to change.” He frowned. “Not the mistress. I’ll never do that.” “Good,” she whispered. “I’m trying to be like Robert, but I’m no good at it. I drank wine. And brandy, lots of it. I didn’t like it and it made me sick. I played hazard and I lost.” He looked momentarily cheerful and her heart sank. “But I didn’t like that either. If I was a real man like Mr. Fox, or Robert, I’d have lost thousands.” The sadder he looked, the more her heart ached, a happy ache. “I failed you, Caro. I’m sorry, but I’m afraid I’ll always be Lord Stuffy,” he said, and closed his tortured, bloodshot eyes.

You make me burn with life, and yearn to set aside my cold and distant, solitary ways.

You make me crazy in all the best ways, woman. You always have. I’m only me when I’m with you.

You look incredible, Kavanagh,” Quinn whispered close to my ear. “Are you trying to kill me?” “Ssshhh,” I hissed. “They’re going to hear you.” “I can’t tell my date she’s beautiful?” I turned my head. “No. No, you can’t.

You lose yourself, Erica, because with the right person, who you become together is something so much greater, more than you could even realize right now.

You make my heart beat faster than the speed of light.

You make me feel like an astronaut.

You make me want to be a better than I am today.

You make the rest of the beautiful things in the world cry for even trying at all. You make it hard for me to breathe.

You make velocity look good.

You may be some fearsome creature, but I'm her daddy. You hurt her, there aren't enough stone walls to keep me away from you and prevent me from mounting your head on a pike. You think you're a mean sonovabitch? Next to a father who's listening to his little girl cry, you're nothing more than pottery.

You look like a hot tamale.” “That’s not really a compliment.

You matter.

You may not mean to, but you do seem to look down your nose at many of us mere mortals muddling along down here. I feel as though you think everyone should be better than they are. I certainly think you expect me to behave like some sort of perfect princess. But I’m just an ordinary girl who wants to grow up and find out where I belong in the world.

You might not be able to run a paintbrush over unpleasant memories, but you can certainly cover them with a black cloth and pretend they don't exist.

You miss all the shots you don’t take. True love will appear in your life…if you are brave enough to chase it.

You meeting me in such an unexpected way is a sign from God that we are meant to be together!

You might not understand, but I gave you the best of me, and after you left, nothing was ever the same.

You might be a fairy tale leprechaun man but at the heart of it you're still a man who won't talk about anything.

You must speak to her heart, then. But first, you must open yours, then hers will follow.

You, my dear, are a creature of the night, you are a vampire.

You need to accept my apology and then let it go. That's the way we're going to do things when we're together. I'm going to fuck up and apologize a lot. You're going to forgive me and let it go.

You need me, Kane. Maybe even more than I need you.

You need time for the grief to heal, for the memories to fade in sharpness, time to adjust your expectation for the future. Be gentle with yourself, you'll make it.

You never know, just by looking, what a person is hiding.

You need to take some acting classes to learn to hide your huge crush on my husband better

You next," he said. "Out of those clothes and into bed." She nodded but didn't move from Sally's side. The thought of undressing exhausted her. Where would she find the strength such a task would require? "I'm filthy. I'll ruin the new bed." "I'll bring you some fresh water." "I've no clothes to change into." His grin was downright wicked. "I know." A short laugh escaped her.

You need to wear less clothing, lass.

You never gave me an answer,’ Anna said. “Which do you think I am, insane or a tramp?’ ‘Do you want to see me again?’ Joe asked. ‘Yes.’ ‘Then you must be insane.

Young love-making--that gossamer web! Even the points it clings to--the things whence its subtle interlacing are swung--are scarcely perceptible; momentary touches of finger-tips, meetings of rays from blue and dark orbs, unfinished phrases, lightest changes of cheek and lip, faintest tremors. The web itself is made of spontaneous beliefs and indefinable joys, yearnings of one life to another, visions of completeness, indefinite trust.

You notice Mr. Hollywood noticing you at the auction this morning? Because I did. I also noticed you noticing him.

You only get what you give away.

You of all people know how hard it is to trust. Especially when the world we live in is not the one humans are aware of. Trust must be earned, and the way to earn it is to prove you deserve it.

You probably think you know all about men, because you read a lot of romance novels, so you think you're an expert on men. But I'm gonna tell you a little secret: the men in those books are fiction. They do not at all represent how men in real life actually think. Those romance novels were written for women by women (and a few men who know what women like to read, so they write romance to make a quick buck.) When you read a book like Grey, Christian's inner monologue does not at all sound like how a man actually thinks in real life. It sounds like a woman does a poor job of imagining how a man thinks. The fictitious men in romance novels are as fake and imaginary as vampires. They're not real. Right about now, there's probably a little voice in your head, screaming: “NOOO!!! You can't say that! You can't speak for all men! Every man is different!!” True. No two dogs are alike. And yet, all dogs have something in common that makes them dogs, and makes them different from cats. The same goes for men and women. The trouble starts when cats don't realize that dogs are different. Dogs think differently, and perceive the world differently, than cats do. I'm a dog. You're a cat. And a dog knows better what it's like to be a dog than a cat does.

You put up this steel armor around yourself in the form of hostility and disinterest—whichever works to shield you best at the moment, but that’s not who you are.

Your absence has not taught me to be alone, it merely has shown that when together we cast a single shadow on the wall.