Best 1397 quotes in «romantic quotes» category

The serenity of the lulling ocean is a wondrous thing to behold..more precious than the gems coveted and covered in platinum or gold...

The sign of a true woman isn't the ability to recite French poetry or play the pianoforte or cook Chateaubriand. The sign of a true woman is learning to listen to her own voice even when society does its best to drown it out.

The sound of the rain that soothes me The sound of the rain outside my window pane Gives nostalgic feelings Makes me think of thrilling things The whispering sound that stirs things up In the pouring rain, that wonderful feeling That makes you smile and cleanse your soul That peaceful feeling you don't want to go Somewhere along the journey Just enjoy the view The rain will pass You still have a long way to go When the next rain comes don't just enjoy the view When the next rain comes I will get off and dance in the rain with you Happy thoughts!

The thing about our choices is that after we have made them, they turn around and make us.

The things you were talking about. The lights and the flowers. Do they expect those things to make them romantic, not the other way around?” “Darling, what do you mean?” “There wasn’t a person there who enjoyed it,” she said, her voice lifeless, “or who thought or felt anything at all. They moved about, and they said the same dull things they say anywhere. I suppose they thought the lights would make it brilliant.” “Darling, you take everything too seriously. One is not supposed to be intellectual at a ball. One is simply supposed to be gay.” “How? By being stupid?

The thing with love is, you cannot choose who you fall for. Falling in love often happens at the wrong time, in the wrong place, with the wrong person. Just as much as you cannot stop growing feelings for a certain man, there's no switch to turn off your heart.

The unknown grayish mystifying forest was benumbed into frost-covered cold, and the tremendous pines towering above the dark marshy soil resembled a gathering of severe mute brothers from a forbidden ancient order worshiping forgotten gods no one had ever heard of outside of the world of secret occult visions.

The utter unbroken silence was more appalling than any ominous noise, than the loudest yells of anguish, than the most piercing screaming... Dead silence. Literally dead.

The way he’s watching me makes me feel needed like no one’s ever been able to make me feel. In a way, he makes me feel necessary. Like my existence alone is necessary for his survival.

The way he looked at you? He wasn’t distracted. He was consumed.

The way our fingers intertwine feels so natural and right; as if our hands hold memories of meeting in a thousand other lifetimes.

The way to my heart shattered when you left me, but I was glad because your memories were invulnerable, locked inside my heart.

The white lily stands for purity. Artists for centuries have pictured the angel Gabriel coming to the virgin Mary with a spray of lillies in his hand, to announce that she is to be the mother of the Turks.

They don’t know I only speak in runaway train stations and everybody is always a few minutes too late to the platform. No one has ever gotten the chance to get too close because it is never romantic to fuck the girl who makes love to her own sadness every single night.

The wind languished. The floral curtain ceased flapping. The moonlight streamed through, lighting up her face. It was a young, animated face. At that moment, it touched a string, a peg, deep inside him.

The world of romance and business works on this principle - You may be rejected several times, but not everyone will reject you.

They are my men and this ship my responsibility. I vowed no woman would ever alter my path. Yet I kept them from ending you, and it makes me sick to the gut, for I would still rather die myself than see one hair on your head damaged by another man.

They'll say you are bad or perhaps you are mad or at least you should stay undercover. Your mind must be bare if you would dare to think you can love more than one lover.

They gave me a thousand reasons to leave you, but I found a thousand and one reasons to be with you.

They roared into the Lincoln Tunnel. A wild, inexplicable excitement mounted in Therese as she stared through the windshield. She wished the tunnel might cave in and kill them both, that their bodies might be dragged out together. She felt Carol glancing at her from time to time.

They still had sexual relations with another, slept in the same bed, shared kisses and intimacy and matrimonial fluid, however both were not married to each other in that sense, although there was a piece of paper that said otherwise.

They’d be complaining about having to walk, and screeching at me to ‘do something, Freddy, do something!’” “But what could you do?” she said, puzzled. “Carry them, probably.” He gave her a hopeful look. “Do you want me to carry you?

They’ve loved you your whole life and you’ve been gone for days. I’ve just loved you for the better part of a week and losing you just ‘bout drove me crazy.

Things began happening with odd synchronicity, as if the universe itself was conspiring on behalf of their love story.

They were completely alone on the long stretch of country road and there was no one else to share the moment with them.

Think like a middle-aged man with OCD, a dead wife, and a teenage daughter. Think like a woman with three teenage sons who once ran a golf cart into the side of their granddad's house." "Cameron and Sean shouldn't have let me drive," Adam said in his own defense. "I was seven." "You shouldn't have ASKED to drive. You were seven.

This boy," he said, indicating the paintings with one sweep of his arms, "was romantic. He thought that it was beauty that bound everything together. And for him it was true. Life had been beautiful for him. He was very young. He knew very little of life. He saw beauty but he did not feel any true passion. How could he? He did not know. He had not really encountered the force of beauty's opposite." "Are you more cynical now, then?" she asked him. "Cynical," he frowned, "No, not that. I know that there is an ugly side of life-and not just human life. I know that everything is not simply beautiful. I am not a romantic as this boy was. But I am not a cynic either. There is something enduring in all of life, Anne, something tough. Something. Something terribly weak yet incredibly powerful...

This," he grits, pushing my hand harder against his chest like he's using it to punctuate his words. "I can't fix this." He hammers my hand harder to his chest one more time.

This life has no meaning to me now. Do not grieve for me, my dear. Up until the moment I lost her, I had a wonderful life. These moments now are the ones that are hard. I’m eager to depart this world and rejoin her in the next. Then, and only then, will I finally be at peace.

...this miserable trick the romantic plays upon himself: of setting just beyond his reach the very thing he prizes.

This sort of quiet gazing, which was like a feeding of the heart, was something I had not experienced with any other woman.

This typewriter is the only one that has listened to me throughout the years, the only one who wants to know the girl beneath my layers.

This world is too fast and the people are so busy they may never get the time to stop and admire you when they pass you by; and I'm afraid this will slowly make you forget how very beautiful you are. Never forget that, love. You're an angel. The most beautiful of all angels.

This was the kind of romantic moment any man, dead or alive, would remember forever. A thread of magic that would become stitched inside of a freeze frame of memory.

This is THE most romantic thing that has ever happened to me, and it involves both drugs and a toilet.

This was getting bloody ridiculous, he thought savagely. If she became any more adorable, endearing, or delectable, something was going to get broken. Most likely his heart.

This was home. This was perfection. This was everything he'd never known he wanted. (Griff)

This was the last thing we needed. I was sure we made quite a pair, me in my evening gown and Milo in his bloodstained shirt. 'Let's hurry to the car, Milo.' I made a move to descend the front steps, ready to push my way through the crowd, but Milo stopped me with a hand on my arm. 'Just a moment, darling.' 'What is it?' 'Let's give them something to put in the gossip columns first, shall we?' And he pulled me to him and kissed me thoroughly in the blinding glare of the flashbulbs.

This was the first time I thought of S— that day. Her music was beautiful, her voice was beautiful, her body was beautiful. Even the dirty little pads of her feet were beautiful. I cursed myself then. For once, heaven had sent me Beauty in its most perfected form and I abandoned it. She might not have been a girl after all but an angel: a force to guide me on this hazardous path of life I hurry down. How can life be hazardous if it can only end in death?

Though I may have been a misfit, I was also a romantic.

Thou doth not know the tragedy of a tale between two hearts till the tears of a forgotten love dissolve into the scars of yearning and seep through the cracks of the broken, leaving behind a trail of crimson for all but one to see.

Time change - Moments don't.

Through his eyes she was made of stardust.

Thunderstorms, Hurricanes, Tornadoes, And then you, A catastrophe I could call my own!

Time moves quickly In the blink of an eye You're gone Do you miss me Feels like yesterday We were on Blissfully Grab your chin With my palm Kiss your cheek

To a woman sexual intimacy is more a tool to get mentally close to her partner than merely a means to physical pleasure.

Tipani flower skies blazing rapture of color laced tree crowns silhouettes along the ocean diamond necklaced beach...of my heart in fragrance of love spilled by caressing kisses of the sun opening the gates to dive deep through away to horizons with no return...

To a man, professional soldiers despised terrorists, and each would dream about getting them in an even-up-battle; the idea of the Field of Honor had never died for the real professionals. It was the place where the ultimate decision was made on the basis of courage and skill, on the basis of manhood itself, and it was this concept that marked the professional soldier as a romantic, a person who truly believed in the rules.

To be a devil isn't so bad; to be a devil that can still see beauty, still remember what it was like to be in the sight of the most holy, now that was an obscenity, and that was what I was.

To be successful in life , Plan, Implement, Revise, Update, and Build on Change.