Best 602 quotes in «affection quotes» category

You should not have taken advantage of my sensibility to steal into my affections without my consent.

A cat's head rubbing your cheeks can give you a wonderful feeling, that of being loved and accepted.

A circle of hugs, A give and take of love and affection; Keep it passing on and on, And on earth, a divine heaven shall be spun…

A concrete love is a mass of emotion formed into a compound mixture of affection, care, desire and expectation.

Affection is a much profound emotion, which is inexplicable but can be fathomed through our pores. It percolates down our skin slowly.

Affection is invaluable. I will accept your heart as payment and change your mind.

Affection is a sweetness, and it always gives the sweet taste, this is God gifted strength. No one else can change it.

Alessandra approached the geniuses of the past to give them life with her attention, which was the form her affection took: paying attention.

Affection is like bread, unnoticed till we starve, and then we dream of it, and sing of it, and paint it.

Affection is the source of self-confidence, happiness, security, and a comfortable mental state.

Affection will burn cheerily when the white flame of love is flickered out. Affection is a fire that can be fed from day to day and be piled up ever higher as the wintry years draw nigh.

A light rain touches my cheek like an angel's butterfly kisses.

Affection expressed physically made friendship so complete and binding.

A heart like mine, which never got any kind of affection growing up, is terrible above all things.

A little bit of affection goes a long way toward reconciling one with the world.

All I need to do is place my pen against paper and your love writes for me.

At the end of life, each of us must answer the question, Whose story captured my soul?

Anyway. I think forcing yourself to keep up appearances and putting up this identity that isn't yours, a mask you don't wear when you're alone, is phony. If you have to do all that stuff to get someone to love you, then can you really say they love you and who you really are? Once you change yourself to win affection, to win love, I don't even know if you can still call you you. If you've built your relationship on pretense and lies, it'll probably fail in some way or another, and if you've fundamentally changed yourself, then it's not really you.

And at once I fell in love with her, for if it is sometimes enough to make us love a woman that she should look on us with contempt, as I supposed Mlle Swann to have done, and that we should think that she can never be ours, sometimes, too, it is enough that she should look on us kindly, as Mme de Guermantes was doing, and that we should think of her as almost ours already.

Animals in our lives can be a blessing.

Any work done with love - be it a photo or a meal or a painting - always looks so pretty, because love is a master of creating magical beauties!

Be kind to all pets and animals because they will be kind back to you.

....because people die but their memories not.

Being such an insane guy with one of indiscretion routine of loving deeply as well as hating deeply but today it got me wrapped up with second one.

Cooking for someone just happens to be one of the most profound expressions of love.

consistent affection for his characters is what sets Tolstoy apart. Flaubert is equally “objective,” he says, but “Flaubert’s objectivity is charged with irritability and Tolstoy’s with affection. For Flaubert everyone and everything is somehow at fault. For Tolstoy everyone and everything has a saving grace.” “By loving people without cause, he discovered indubitable causes for loving them.” It would be hard to find a more succinct description of the chief work of the Holy Spirit in the human heart.

Conviction affects all substances in the vicinity.

Death, distance, and time, shall each one of them dig graves for your affections; but this pi do not know, nor can know, until the story of your life is ended.

Divines are generally agreed that sin radically and fundamentally consists in what is negative, or privative, having its root and foundation in a privation or want of holiness. And therefore undoubtedly, if it be so that sin does very much consist in hardness of heart, and so in the want of pious affections of heart, holiness does consist very much in those pious affections.

Desire for a person is not the same thing as having that unique appreciation and need for them, nor is affection. Desire waxes and wanes, and affection can be felt without long-standing commitment. But 'You matter to me' means that the long haul is accepted, even willingly taken on: I will carry you, hold you and applaud you, from here on in. Dependability: I will be here to take care of you. And when you are gone, I will be here to remember you.

Een hele mond vol,' mompelde ze, en drukte haar gezicht tegen de brede borst van haar echtgenoot. Het voelde heerlijk om op zijn kracht te steunen, al was het maar voor even, terwijl hij haar haren zacht streelde.

Do not underestimate the power of compassion; you will be surprise how an act of kindness, love and caring can be a powerful affection in every life on this universe.

Dork," I chastised affectionately. But his cheesy exclamation was something I was okay with. I smiled up at him. His hazels danced with mischief. "Okay," I agreed. The mischief turned to triumph. Damn those magic eyes!

Entrambi respirarono un po' di quell'affetto che ancora resisteva tra di loro, diluito lungo centinaia di chilometri di cavi coassiali e alimentato da qualcosa di cui non sapevano il nome e che forse, se ci avessero pensato bene, non esisteva più.

Emotion integrates but emotivity isolates. So free yourself from affectivity. In this absence of emotivity, you may have the impression at first that you become indifferent. But very soon you’ll see that there is really affection for your surroundings. Emotion, affection, is giving.

Ever since she was a young girl, [Patricia Highsmith] had felt an extraordinary empathy for animals, particularly cats. The creatures, she said, 'provide something for writers that humans cannot: companionship that makes no demands or intrusions, that is as restful and ever-changing as a tranquil sea that barely moves'. Her affection for cats was 'a constant as was feline companionship wherever her domestic situation permitted,' says Kingsley. 'As for animals in general, she saw them as individual personalities often better behaved, and endowed with more dignity and honesty than humans. Cruelty to or neglect of any helpless living creature could turn her incandescent with rage.' Janice Robertson remembers how [...] Highsmith was walking through the streets of Soho when she saw a wounded pigeon lying in the gutter. 'Pat decided there and then that this pigeon should be rescued,' says Janice. 'Although I think Roland persuaded her that it was past saving, she really was distraught. She couldn't bear to see animals hurt.' Bruno Sager, Highsmith's carer at the end of her life, recalls the delicacy with which the writer would take hold of a spider which had crawled into the house, making sure to deposit it safely in her garden. 'For her human beings were strange - she thought she would never understand them - and perhaps that is why she liked cats and snails so much,' he says.

Every day is a miracle make it count

From attraction and affection Cover of perfection Failure beyond texture to a painful lesson Everything that was from the start wasn't from the heart

Fortunately I did not need affection.

Growing up, you would think that love is a tangible object, that you can point or touch it. Love is not a thing, it is an aggregation of several things, like caring, assisting, sacrifice, attention, and doing whatever one has to do to protect someone dear.

Go to bed! Someone is anxious to come into your dream.

Have you ever really watched him? I bet he'd found out everything about Jabbar by the time he'd talked to him for ten minutes. I bet he knows the name of every camel. And he'll remember it all. People don't take that much interest in other people, usually.' Her fingers idly traced a pattern in the sand. 'So he makes you feel important.' 'Politicians do that-' Vimes began. 'Not the way he does, believe me. I expect Lord Vetinari remembers facts about people-' 'Oh, you'd better believe that!' '-but Carrot takes an interest. He doesn't even think about it. He makes space in his head for people. He takes an interest, and so people think they're intesting. They feel... better when he's around.

He'd seen a different side of her today, he realized with pleasure, recalling the sight of her standing on the bow of the Orpheus, holding on to the shrouds with the wind in her face and a look of pure delight in her eyes. She'd been a vision with those skirts flapping wildly around her legs, so different from his long-standing perception of her. And when they rounded the point, something had awakened inside him. An emotion he'd not felt in a very long time- a deep, genuine affection that reached beyond the surface thrill of the conquest.

He despised causeless affection, just as he despised unearned wealth. They professed to love him for some unknown reason and they ignored all the things for which he could wish to be loved. He wondered what response they could hope to obtain from him in such manner—if his response was what they wanted.

He had big plans for you," I said with tears rolling down my face. "That's why it took so long." Sir Alistair stopped and looked back, looking with affection at Marco, Yipes, and me. "We all play our part. Some roles just dray on a little more than others.

He stepped down trying not to look long at her, as though she were the sun, yet he saw her as one sees the sun, without looking.

He longed for her more than he could say. It was a wonderful thing to be able to truly want someone like this –the feeling was so real, so overpowering. He hadn’t felt this way in ages. Maybe he never had before. Not that everything about it was wonderful: his chest ached, he found it hard to breathe, and a fear, a dark oscillation, had hold of him. But now even that kind of ache had become an important part of the affection he felt. He didn’t want to let that feeling slip from his grasp. Once lost, he might never happen across that warmth again. If he had to lose it, he would rather lose himself.

He laughed and came forward impulsively to kiss her—his affection a potent thing, a flourish of light. She was smiling, her tears feeling fresh on her face. He smelled of sweat and roses. She felt it in the palms of her hands, in her loins. It was right. It was Southampton she had wanted all along.

.....Her eyebrows are the living example of nature.

He was not his father, and this was not his work; but he was the master, and this was his masterpiece.