Best 9447 quotes in «romance quotes» category

The idea that I could lose her again… it’s unbearable.

The idea that there's someone for everyone is mathematically impossible. I found my Mr Right and he ended up being a Right Bastard. As did yours.

The image of him frozen to the spot in the pouring rain would be etched into my memory forever.

The inner dimension and the hidden time have already been discovered.

The "inner circle of humanity" recognizes others through frequency, regardless of walk of life or "positioning in the astral". This is an operation run invisibly from Outside the astral. Going Home represents the final shift to one's true spiritual families of light, in all dimensions of harmonics; higher vibrations/love in unity consciousness, above, below and literally "everywhere and everynow".

The internet has destroyed romance.

Their courtship unfolded in two settings, a Russian reality overlaid with New York memories

the intensity in your eyes burns my pen as i write.

Their cool cheeks and warm lips met in the crisp darkness, and, watching the icy moon over his shoulder, Annie knew that she was his surely and, pulling his face down, kissed him again, trembling with emotion.

Their encounter had formed a strange chemical bond. Mitch, a hardened ruffian, had opened up the prison of his soul to her. And Kika, who led a bitterly puritanical existence, had started to make love to him on her sofa.

Their eyes locked for a single moment, and Nick felt his heart jackhammering violently in his chest like it wanted to crack his rib cage open.

Their hands touched for an instant, but neither spoke. Silences were becoming more frequent and more delicious.

The irony was that my real enemy had been there all along right in front of me. Smiling crookedly and convincing me we were friends. Trying to seduce me for the thrill of the chase. Chastising me for not trusting him that first year in the tower stairs at the Academy… Telling me he loved me. And then tossing me aside the second I jeopardized his dreams. I wasn’t what he had wanted all these years. I’d merely been a diversion in his pursuit of the crown. I never should have trusted a prince.

Their union, she believed, could not divide her more from other men, than their final separation.

Their daughter scrunched up her hands and legs, waving them wildly in the air. He opened his palm, allowing the babe to kick his hand. "Is she like a puppy?" Constance choked. "What!" He looked up. "Will she get her spots later?" Laughter bubbled up from within her as she playfully whacked him on the shoulder. "Yes. Yes, I'm afraid she will. As soon as the sun touches her skin, the freckles will appear." A delicious two-dimple grin spread across his face. "Good. I find I'm rather partial to freckled redheads.

Their eyes locked. Again, heat rose to Livy's cheeks. He needed to stop looking at her that way. She never should have noticed the captivating hue of his sky-blue eyes. When was the last time a man flustered her like this. Maybe never.

Their lips met with a tender and powerful force. At that point, they melted into each other and Seth felt a flush of sensations over his entire being. Hands wandered naturally, and each caress became more exciting and pleasurable. Where the body ended and the soul began was a mystery in this ancient game of combinations.

Their souls were one and the same and had been that way since before the ages.

[The] Japanese were a people in a profound, inverse, reverse, or if I preferred it, even perverse sense, more in love with death than living.

Their gazes locked and held for a long beat, like maybe he was taking her pulse from across the room, absorbing the fact that she was drenched and breathless. The corners of his mouth twitched. She’d amused him again.

The jury’s still out on your level of intellect. After all, you signed up with Evil Incorporated in the first place.

The journey home to Scotland had been long and arduous, but I had made it. I was home, well not technically, but certainly the place where my soul sang.

The joy, the dizzy bliss—the wonder of it all—Jeron had never experienced anything like it. Moon-rays and fairy lights glinted on Niamh’s loose hair and in her eyes. There was no hesitance in her actions, and none of the self-doubt Jeron had noticed before. Just gentle touch and kiss, the warmth of love’s first dawning. He distanced his face enough that she would not mistake his expression. “All of this, here and now. This is real, do you understand?” He touched one finger to the compass at her chest. “True north. I promise.” “I believe you,” she said. “And, I can be the north star. I am a Starsong after all. Now kiss me one more time before we make that final round.” Jeron complied, again and again and even once more for good measure, the world fading into cricket song and budding flowers on the first full-moon night of the spring.

The kiss wasn’t just any kiss. No, it was a tricky little bastard, because it started out soft and gentle, but shifted gears in a matter of seconds. The moment her response went from surprise to surrender, the kiss turned hard and hungry, launching us into a frenzy of movement. Her arms were around my neck, my hands were moving all over her body, and somehow, in a span of about five seconds, she climbed up me like a tree, her legs wrapped tightly around my waist. We spun and bumped into the counter. I reached behind my back with one hand to tighten the cross of her ankles. And then I had her sitting on the edge of the stovetop, my hands exploring the tops of her thighs. I pushed the ruffled skirt hem up and clasped on to her bare, silky skin. Her tongue dove to the back of my throat, sliding over mine like wet, slick velvet. Holy mother fuck, I couldn’t breathe. I was drowning in this girl.

The kiss is different than I expected. It’s slow and tender, his lips soft and warm against mine. He tastes sweet, like the powdered sugar I spilt and the coffee with chicory he’s always drinking. It’s a perfect first kiss.

The kiss wove between gentle and frenzied, liquid and greedy, silken and primal, and he sucked every second of bliss he could from the forbidden pleasure.

The Kingdom of God does not come by Observation. It is hidden in the inner dimension.

The kiss was so soft she couldn’t believe this was the same bad boy who’d said such things to her with that mouth.

The ladies, I daresay, will have already selected silk gowns and appropriate jewels," the countess droned on, "and are quite capable of comporting themselves in line with both propriety and fashion.” “I don’t care about fashion,” Lord Sheffield murmured into Amelia’s ear, “but I’m sorely disappointed whenever a lady I escort decides to comport herself with propriety.

The landscape is bathed in the honeyed light of morning. Sometimes the memory of winter comes again. And my days are colored reveries of you, my nights sensuous

The last step before death is the moment of its demise. The emptiness or the new life. But the last step is also a point of reference itself. The last step can last as short or as long as its creator defines it. The last step could be before death itself. It could be the middle of death. It could be the last goodbye or the last look before eyelids drop to a close like curtains.

The last time I saw him, I didn't breath again until he had dressed himself completely. From the crack in my sister's door, I saw him get out of her bed and inhale, as if he had accomplished his mission for the day.

The last thing she remembered before finally drifting off was how nice Steffi's hair smelled.

The laws of gravity work everywhere except in the heart and the soul.

The lead-up to the moment was magical in every respect, but a part of me was, and still is, uneasy about the whole thing for many reasons.

The lessons of relationship that our primordial ancestors learned are deeply encoded in the genetics of our neurobiological circuits of love. They are present from the moment we are born and activated at puberty by the cocktail of neurochemicals. It’s an elegant synchronized system. At first our brain weighs a potential partner, and if the person fits our ancestral wish list, we get a spike in the release of sex chemicals that makes us dizzy with a rush of unavoidable infatuation. It’s the first step down the primeval path of pair-bonding.

The letter had been crumpled up and tossed onto the grate. It had burned all around the edges, so the names at the top and bottom had gone up in smoke. But there was enough of the bold black scrawl to reveal that it had indeed been a love letter. And as Hannah read the singed and half-destroyed parchment, she was forced to turn away to hide the trembling of her hand. —should warn you that this letter will not be eloquent. However, it will be sincere, especially in light of the fact that you will never read it. I have felt these words like a weight in my chest, until I find myself amazed that a heart can go on beating under such a burden. I love you. I love you desperately, violently, tenderly, completely. I want you in ways that I know you would find shocking. My love, you don't belong with a man like me. In the past I've done things you wouldn't approve of, and I've done them ten times over. I have led a life of immoderate sin. As it turns out, I'm just as immoderate in love. Worse, in fact. I want to kiss every soft place of you, make you blush and faint, pleasure you until you weep, and dry every tear with my lips. If you only knew how I crave the taste of you. I want to take you in my hands and mouth and feast on you. I want to drink wine and honey from you. I want you under me. On your back. I'm sorry. You deserve more respect than that. But I can't stop thinking of it. Your arms and legs around me. Your mouth, open for my kisses. I need too much of you. A lifetime of nights spent between your thighs wouldn't be enough. I want to talk with you forever. I remember every word you've ever said to me. If only I could visit you as a foreigner goes into a new country, learn the language of you, wander past all borders into every private and secret place, I would stay forever. I would become a citizen of you. You would say it's too soon to feel this way. You would ask how I could be so certain. But some things can't be measured by time. Ask me an hour from now. Ask me a month from now. A year, ten years, a lifetime. The way I love you will outlast every calendar, clock, and every toll of every bell that will ever be cast. If only you— And there it stopped.

The light of love is life.

The line between love and hate is thin.

The longest journey I have ever taken is the love for my wife, it never ended.

The love that we feel for each other is not about the worldly things, those materialistic possessions, or great looks either. It’s about the breath I hold at your sheer sight. It’s about the constant drumming of my heart when you come near me, making me aware of your control on me, and how my senses crave for more of you. My love for you is ‘you’, and it will still take me eternity to figure out more of it!

The magic swirling around Bae made her look menacing, almost feral and he wanted her more than he'd wanted any other woman. She was something else entirely.

The magnitude of pleasure can only be measured by the one that experiences it, and not by the prescriber.

The love we feel is not meant for days like this.

The male gender remembers only the things that entertain them.

The man gave her an eyegasm every time she glanced at him.

The man she wanted existed only in the romantic novels she was reading. She had met him. But he would never meet her.

The man in 4B wondered if he could have your autograph. He told me his daughter is a huge fan.” Fan? What the hell? Dylan lifted himself up and looked over the back of his seat. Since when did covert operators have fans?

The man's voice was soft with a slight southern twang, the likes of which sent a pleasurable shiver down Heather’s spine. He glanced up quickly with a tell-tale blush staining his lightly tanned cheeks. Smiling to herself, Heather knew she had found that one special pupil who could make the semester more than interesting.

The man who gets Mara gets you and Billie. I’m that man. What you gotta get is, while fallin’ in love with Mara, I fell in love with you and your sister. Straight up, Bud, no lie. The feelings I feel for Mara are hers, the feelings I feel for Billie are hers and the feelings I feel for you are yours. You all have my love, not collectively, individually. Do you understand me?” “Mitch nodded. “Right. What I mean is, I didn’t fall in love with you all as a whole. I fell in love with each of you because of who you are. I don’t care about you because you come with Mara. I care about you because you’re a good kid. You’re smart. You’re loyal. And you love and look out for your sister and Mara. I know grown men who do not have a character as fine as yours. Those are the reasons I love you. There are different reasons I love Billie. And there are different reasons I love Mara. Today, what we had together was good. But the feelings I feel for you aren’t feelings I have to have in order to have Mara. They’re feelings you earned. Now, you with me?