Best 9447 quotes in «romance quotes» category

Isn’t he cute? That he thinks he has a sense of humour?

Isn't it lovely to be lovely me!

Isn't that the way everything begins? A night, a love, a once and for all.

I spent most of my life believing there would never be a Prince Charming out there for me. Kissing toads can have that effect on a girl.

Isso é bem outra coisa", replicou Alberto, "porque um homem que se deixa arrastar por uma paixão violenta perde a faculdade de refletir e deve ser considerado como um ébrio, como um demente.

I stare at my hands and remember my dad's and how I trusted them when I was a kid until I learned that they could turn into fists. And words could hurt even more than the bruises.

I stare at the long, almost elegant thinness of the wrist bone jutting out from a heap of flesh and cloth. All that separates us, that poor woman and me, is an accident of birth.

I stared at my lap. I wished I were confident, I wished I were brave. I wished he didn’t scare me. But the more he spoke the less I wanted to look away, and the more I did.

I spent the day running through the woods like a wild animal. Being chased by you is the only thing that would have made it more romantic.

I spend hours at hockey games every week working as the assistant trainer. (Appa said it would great on my resume for med school. I don’t think he realized I’d spend most of my time bandaging up sexy shirtless boys, but I’m not complaining).

I spot a small cleft on his chin that should be awarded with a whole new set of definitions and adjectives.

I spend my life worrying. I worry about everything, about money, about my daddy, about my future, but draped across Sebastian's lap, I am at ease. There's no storm. There's no boat. There is no up or down, just the slapping sound of his hand against my flesh.

I stand before her, meeting her eye to eye and nose to nose. My head takes a slight bow as I clench my fist. “I should have just killed you like any other bloodsucking vampire.” “So why didn’t you?” She tiptoes, clenching her first as well. I have to admit. She is a much better version of the Snow White you see in a Disney movie. She’s kind of kickass. I like it, but I will never let her know.“Why do you care so much about me then? Ha?” She asks. "I should have killed you before," I repeated while all I could do is wonder how I'd ever fallen in love with a monster girl.

I stand for a relationship with no gender roles. We both hustle, we both cook, we both clean, we both pay, we both spoil each other. We both help & got each others back. Bless

I stand now at a crossroads. I see before me the route to virtue, at an intersection with the route to love. Do I step to the left or the right, to the wrong or the right? M foot wavers in the air; where shall I set it down?

I stare into the ruggedly handsome face, the eyes alight with a vast intelligence and that eerie, unearthly power. He's beautiful, so haunted with power it takes me a second to realize exactly what position Nolan Storm has put me in, and by extension, my family.

Is that your idea of flirting? Get half naked and tease me with your talk of sheep?

Is there a reason why you’re standing there, staring out the window and watching the neighbors? Are we preparing to kill them and drag them down to the basement and bury them alive?

Is this another fantasy?” she asked. His gaze lifted to her face. His expression was serious, his usual amusement absent. “No. This is real. This is you and me. Just once, and afterwards I’ll leave you alone. I promise I won’t hold you back. Now, I’m going to make love to you, slowly and completely, and you’ll never forget the feel of me inside you.

I steal one glance over my shoulder as soon as we are far from the foreboding luminance of the neon glow, and it is there that my stomach leaps into my throat. Squatting just shy of the light and partially concealed by the shade of an alley is a sinister silhouette beneath a crimson cowl, beaming a demonic smile which spans from cheek to swollen cheek.

Is that your cheap way of telling me you want to kiss me?” He looks into my eyes, his dark gaze capturing mine. “Querida, I always want to kiss you.

Is there a problem, Ms. Parker? Something you want to say to me?" Reaching for his tie, he began to loosen it, unraveling it with his fingers, angry eyes still locked on mine. "I'm not sure I like being your pet. Or science project, I don't know which." "You have a smart mouth." "You make smart observances." "You're going to make this invitation difficult, aren't you?" "If you're dishonest with me, yes." "You'll regret it if you don't accept." "Is that a threat?" "That's a promise.

Is there somebody out there? Amy, is that you?” her mother called. “No. Tell me this isn’t happening.” Quinn rested his forehead against hers. “Has she got a wiretap on you or something? I swear, she’s like a walking hard-on detector.” Amy bit her lip, trying not to laugh. Quinn levered himself up on his arms. “Mrs. P., if you value your life, you’ll go back inside and turn off the light right now.

I still need you. Killer, boyfriend, friend, whatever…I need you in my life…if for nothing else, to show me that it’s OK to be broken. It’s OK for things not to be OK.

I still remember the first day I met her. She was drunk with love and drenched in pain. The moment I hugged her I said myself, I shall heal her completely someday. But in the process of searching her, it was she who found me. And it was she who healed me.

I stilled. I was sure I'd imagined that all too familiar voice, but there he was. His bright blue eyes saying far more than his words ever could. His iris' held pain and anger and my shame increased tenfold. How foolish I was to think what I'd done would matter to him, or how his reaction would mean so much to me.

I stood in front of him, frustratedly imagining his naked muscular chest, and wanting his hot cock to spear me. My nipples were aroused, feeling as hard and long as coat hooks. They prodded fiercely through the thin blue material at him, like little calling signs of how horny and ready for sex I was. The best advertisement of all: erect nipples!

I stopped looking at the cars after the first few miles. Once I started to see past the exteriors, I saw what lay inside some of them and felt the urge to sprint to the nearest freeway exit. Some people had tried to outrun The Plague by leaving town. They hadn't realized the illness could still find them in their cars, and now the 405 was one of the largest graveyards in the world. I thought for a moment about all of the other cities across the globe that probably had scenes just like this. My eyes stung, wondering if my mother, my dad, or any of my friends were in similar graveyards. I made the mistake of glancing into an overturned Volkswagen Beetle as I passed and saw a pair of legs clad in jeans and white Jack Purcell sneakers in the shadows of the car. They reminded me of Sarah's shoes. The man who laced those up that morning hadn't realized he wouldn't be taking them off again.

I studied his face, and as I did, I realized that he was studying me, our thoughts tangling in mid-air for a moment.

I stopped right in front of him, personal space be damned, and asked, “Can we do this again?” He flashed me his gorgeous smile, dimples and all. “Yeah... I’d like that.” I smiled right back. I turned and pulled open the door, holding it for him. We stepped outside, stopping on the sidewalk. I pulled out my cell and handed it to him. Darren took it, punched in his number and when his cell rang, he pulled his phone out. “Now I’ve got your number, too,” he said. “You’ll have to save mine to your contacts.” He handed my phone back, and I gave him one of the bags. “Will do. Can I call you tomorrow?” “Tomorrow’s Opening Day,” Darren said. “Wanna catch the game together?” I think my heart skipped a beat. “Yeah… I’d like that.

I stopped thinking and watched in horror as Tex banged the portafilter on top of the espresso machine. Monty hit a button and was drowned out by Tex’s voice shouting, “Fucking steam! Give me some more fucking steam, you monster!” Which was followed by Duke shouting, “It only gives as much steam as it gives, man!” Wonderful.

I studied how to use the clothes washer. The handy instructions on the lid helped; so did the box of suds. It instructed me to separate the whites from the coloreds. Laundry will be the last American institution to desegregate.

I swear I won't touch you even with a finger until you ask me yourself.

I swear on the Angel.” He ducked his head down, kissed her cheek. “The hell with that. I swear on us.” Clary wound her fingers into the sleeve of his T-shirt. “Why us?” “Because there isn’t anything I believe in more.

I swear, if you touch me, I’ll go Lorena Bobbitt on you.” Lorena Bobbitt? Why does that sound—oh my God, the lady that chopped off her husband’s dick? I busted out laughing and put my pillow over my face. “Oh my God! Princess! You’re my new favorite!” That’s it, that comment right there, and it was sealed. I would do anything to have this beautiful gray-eyed princess lying next to me, as mine.

Swept away was a fortuitous choice of words: it made her mad. She’d been swept away once—she’d let herself be, hoped and desired to be; that’s how it always went in romantic stories. She’d never be that passive again. It was far, far better to choose,

I suppose,” continued Nate, “it’s not Bertie’s fault that he lacks the physical stature to carry a delicate young woman such as yourself a good distance. I believe he did not care to see you within the folds of my arms which were reluctant to release you, for I thought I would never see you again...

I suppose you don’t care about anyone,” said Catherine. Finn paused. “I find few people are worth the effort.” “A charmer like you?” she said. “No. I don’t believe it.

I swear." His hand came up in the three-finger Boy Scout pledge. Annie couldn't help by laugh. "You may be many things, Jake. But an innocent Boy Scout isn't one of them.

I swore never to trust anyone ever again. Then you come blazing into my life like a raging fire and burn down my resolve. And now, here we are.

I take in all the colorful locks that line the bridge. Each one told a story. Each lock represented a relationship that was once special, whether it ended or turned into true happiness. The locks represented a past, present, and a possible future.

I swooned the first time I saw Charlo. I actually did. I didn't faint or fall on the floor but my legs went rubbery on me and I giggled. I suddenly knew that I had lungs because they were empty and collapsing.

Is your name even David?' I asked as I yanked my panties back on. 'Is yours Melanie?' he inquired, buttoning his jeans. 'I asked first,' I countered, wondering for the umpteenth time why being an idiot came so easily to me.

It became evident, that in Paris, only one man could fulfil Heloise’s educational needs, Peter (or as the French called him, Pierre) Abelard, a thirty-seven year old philosopher and teacher

I take small, shallow breaths, even though my lungs are begging for more air. I feel the heat of Ten’s controlled breaths against my face. As we stand there, it feels as if an electric charge is growing between us, so powerful that it would shock us if we moved even a millimeter closer together. And yet I feel like I want to.

It all fades. Memories fade. Heartaches fade. But although time makes it bearable and easier to smile, to live, it doesn’t erase the pain entirely.

I talk for a living, but it’s still hard to talk about love, especially when it’s officially mandated by the calendar. (Men, of course, think Valentine’s Day is a woman-dated occasion.)

It became legend that no one should wander too close to the sorceress's enchanted forest or she would send forth a blizzard, causing them to lose their way and be caught in the land of ice and snow for all time.

It brought a lot of joy to me to be in his arms.

It’d been a long time since they’d been together, but as close as they were physically, they’d never been so far apart in every other way.