Best 119 quotes in «first kiss quotes» category

Corbin Bleu was my first kiss in life. I was 12, and he was, like, my first kiss for TV... It was on the lips!

Drawing is like the first kiss. It carries within it the deepest emotion and the challenge of the first step. It is the first cry after birth

Give me a kiss, and to that kiss a score: Then to that twenty, add a hundred more.

I'll be ready for my first kiss! When it happens, it'll happen, but I don't know. It doesn't look like that will be anytime soon.

Hannah wasn't my first kiss, but the first kiss that mattered: the first kiss with someone who mattered. (pg 222).

I am a strong believer in kissing being very intimate, and the minute you kiss, the floodgates open for everything else.

I could not remember my first kiss, but I could have told you Charlotte would be my last.

I suspect any serious reader has a first great book, just the way anybody has a first kiss.

It was brief, swift, and then it was done. It was a professional job. I needed to be kissed, and I was kissed.

It's something that you have to experience in your life, but I think my first kiss, I was 7 and it was really yucky.

It was Kizzy's first kiss and maybe it was her last and it was delicious.

I was 13 and at summer camp when I had my first kiss.

I worked so hard for that first kiss, and a heart don't forget.

I've always been fascinated by Elizabeth Taylor, and I had read that her first kiss happened on a film set, which actually made me a little sad. You need to have normal experiences of your own.

I waited for my first kiss.

Love's first snow-drop, virgin kiss.

My first crush was Barry Manilow. He performed on TV and I taped it. When no was around I'd kiss the screen.

I want to give you back your first kiss, the one that jerk stole from you. And I want it to be something that even a coma can't make you forget.

My first kiss can be summed up in one word - unsuccessful.

No text message will ever replace the first kiss.

One of my favorite stories is my first kissing scene with Linda Gray.

Platonic friendship-the interval between the introduction and the first kiss.

Publication is to thinking as childbirth is to the first kiss.

The decision to kiss for the first time is the most crucial one in any love story.

The best part about a first kiss is right before the first kiss.

When we fall in love and we have a first kiss with someone, we never ever imagine that someday that could be a last kiss.

The first kiss plummeted him down a hole and popped him out into a world he thought he could get along in—as if he’d been pulling hard the wrong way and was now turned around headed downstream.

There is a moment—Oh, just before the first kiss, a whispered word—something that makes it worth while.

What could equal the bliss? / The thrill of the first kiss / It'll blow right to you / It's never as good as the first time.

What do you mean fainted? Took a dive, kissed the pavement. Swooned like a southern belle after her first kiss. Had a dreadful case of the vapors.

The first kiss I had was the most disgusting thing in my life. The girl injected about a pound of saliva into my mouth, and when I walked away I had to spit it all out.

This girl said "Yes" when I wasn't ready. I kissed her lightly and got so dizzy I had to sit down.

You never forget your first kiss. And that's what makes it so hard to forgive my uncle.

When he kissed me, his lips soft and careful, it was all the thrill of our first kiss and all the practiced familiarity of the accumulated memory of all our kisses.

Your first kiss is destiny knocking.

Can I..." He stopped and his jaw flexed. "Can I kiss you?" I didn't answer, and he didn't wait for me to. His hands caught me gently behind the neck and he pressed his mouth to mine, softly but firmly. Then he moved one arm around my waist and pulled me closer to him.

Cash leaned forward against her hand and Harper met him halfway. The kiss was powerful and demanding. Harper wrapped her arms around Cash, feeling his heartbeat against her chest. The kiss was more aggressive than either of them meant it to be, and, when they pulled apart, they were both breathing fast, like they had sprinted toward each other. “I’ve been waiting a long time to do that,” Cash said, out of breath. “Eight years,” Harper murmured. “My whole life,” Cash corrected, leaning in again.

Delicately, she parted her lips, swept them against his, and kissed first his top, then the bottom. Letting her lead, he pinched his brows together and held still. She didn’t come at him with fire. She told him a story. And he’d be damned if it didn’t start with once upon a time like she were proving he was some kind of hero. Specifically, hers.

After another second had passed I added, “But you’re pretty, pretty,” and as soon as I said it I thought, “Pretty, pretty? John, you’re an idiot.” But she squeezed my hand and when I looked at her I saw her entire lovely face was aglow with a wonderful smile, the kind of smile you get when you have won something. “Why do you rub your fingers together all the time?” she asked me, and I felt the breath leave my body and gasped for air. She had seen me do my crazy finger thing, my affliction. I clenched my teeth while I searched for a long, exaggerated lie to tell her about why I did what I did. I didn’t want to be the crazy kid with tics, I wanted to be James Bond 007, so slick ice avoided me. “It’s okay,” she said. “I bite my nails, see?” and she showed me the backs of her hands. Her finger nails were painted a color I later learned was puce. “My Dad, he blinks all the time, he doesn’t know why either,” she continued. She looked down her feet and said, “I shouldn’t have asked you that. I’m really nervous and I say stupid things when I’m nervous. I’m a girl and this is my first date, and for girls this really is a very big deal.” I understood completely. I was so nervous I couldn’t feel my toes, so I started moving them up and down to make sure they were still there. “It’s all right,” I said. “I don’t know why I do that with my fingers; it’s a thing I do.” “Well, you’re really cute when you do it,” she said. “I know,” I said, and I don’t know why I said it, but I did.

A great book increases my heartbeat as if I’m prey, melts my insides in anticipation of a first kiss, immerses me in its depths.

A kiss, he said, is a conversation. Easing closer, he continued to speak as he caressed her cheeks with featherlight stokes of his thumbs. "A first kiss", his lips neared hers, is an introduction and then his mouth brushed against hers. The contact sparked, sharp and bright like lightning, yet his lips were soft, unexpectedly so. Her breath caught the same instant his did. Against her mouth he whispered "That was Hello" His breath mingled with hers as he waited, his lips so close she could feel their warmth. For a moment she simply breathed him in growing heady on the scent of him and the tight anticipation gathering in her belly. Then she understood. Nerves fluttering, she brushed her lips across his as he had done. Again his breath hitched, as if he too felt that same spark, that hot need. Her eyes drifted closed and his voice poured over her like warm cream. "This is, 'I'm Jack'.

A kiss…. ….. is just a kiss…. Until it’s all you reminisce. (Then the memory becomes your most treasured possession.)

And I know when your lips meet mine I feel as though I have never been kissed before.

And then, without any warning at all, he presses his lips against mine. As his mouth covers my own, I find myself reeling, as if I have been tipped backward and am falling, falling, so that even the stars in the sky are spinning. His lips are warm and soft, the unrelenting pull of his desire for me as strong as the pull of the waves against the sand. It is not like practicing with Ismae, or even Sybella. It is not like any of the first kisses I have imagined over the years. It is far, far better and more wondrous, and yet terrifying as well, like one of the raging storms that pound against the convent walls in the winter, threatening to breach its defenses. So too does this kiss threaten something deep within me that I cannot even name.

An upbeat song played over the loudspeaker, and everyone's attention focused on the Jumbotron above the basketball court. "It's time for the Bulls' Kiss Cam. So, pucker up for your sweetie and kiss them." The camera found an older couple in their fifties. The man pulled his wife, I assumed, in for a quick peck on the lips. "Aww. That is so sweet," Trina said. She proceeded to yank poor Owen to his seat in case the spotlight landed on them. She'd do just about anything to get on television, even if it meant not kissing Owen tonight to do so. "That is so staged," I said and sneaked a quick peek at my phone, seeing if he messaged me back. He didn’t. "Really?" she countered and slapped my arm. Once I glanced her way, she pointed towards the large screen looming above. On the screen was Sebastian and me as the camera had just so happened to find us. It stayed there zooming closer. And closer. And closer. "Come on," the announcer called out, prodding us. "Just one kiss won't hurt." He had no idea what he was asking. A kiss would initiate feelings I couldn't avoid any longer. I momentarily forgot how to breathe as the song, “Kiss the Girl” from the Little Mermaid hummed at my lips. Not the best choice, but still. Everything became much worse once my giant moved into view, smiling my favorite smile. Sebastian inched closer; eyebrow cocked to dare me."No pressure or anything." I was quiet for a moment before whispering, "Game on, buddy." My eyes closed a few heartbeats shy of Sebastian's lips meeting mine. His hands rose, cupping my cheeks to keep me from pulling away. Like that was going to happen. Sebastian’s mouth moved against mine, and I conceded, kissing him in return. He tasted sweet and minty, like the home I’d been missing. The kiss turned from soft and tame to fierce and wantingas if neither of us could get enough. And already, I considered myself a goner. Everything became a haze. My heart thumped so wildly against my chest, I swore Sebastian could hear. The crowd surrounding us was whistling and cheering us on, and it only kept gaining momentum as the moments passed. The noise quickly faded until it was as if we were the only two people in the room. We could have been the only two people on earth. "Okay, guys." Trina tapped my shoulder, garnering my attention. "Camera has moved on now." That was our cue to separate, and I slowly drew away from Sebastian. He, in turn, slipped his hand to the back of my neck, holding me here. "Don't," he sighed against my lips. I didn't budge another inch. I didn't want to. Sebastian rewarded me by deepening the kiss. Dear God. There were sparks. My stomach flipped. My toes curled. My body warmed. Every single inch of me only wanted one thing and one thing only. If this continued for too much longer, it was easy to guess my new favorite hobby: Kissing Sebastian Freaking Birch. Needing some air, I pressed my palm flat against his chest. This time he released me as we both were breathless. Sebastian's eyes carefully studied me. He kept staring as if he could read my heart, my mind. And for those brief few seconds, I honestly didn't believe there were any secrets between us. His gaze shifted as he gauged what to do next, and I had no freaking idea where we went from here. We'd done it now. We crossed that line, and there was no way of ever going back.

At that very first kiss of my life I felt something melt inside me that hurt in an exquisite way. All my longings, all my dreams and sweet anguish, all the secrets that slept deep within my limbic brain came awake. I felt billions of Beach Boys playing their sweet melody inside my heart in perfect harmony with the universe.

At the first kiss I felt something melt inside me that hurt in an exquisite way. All my longings, all my dreams and sweet anguish, All the secrets that slept deep within me came awake, Everything was transformed and enchanted, everything made sense.

Avery?" My eyes drifted shut. "What?" "You've never been kissed before, right?" My pulse exploded."No." "Just so we're clear," he said."This isn't a kiss." I opened my mouth, and then his lips were on mine. A sweet sweeping of his lips across mine, breathtakingly tender and soft, and way too quick. "You kissed me," I gasped, my fingers digging into his sweater. "That wasn't a kiss." His lips brushed mine as he spoke. Shivers raced up and down my spine.

Do you remember our first kiss? I do. Not a day goes by I don’t think of the feel of that bicuspid against my tongue. It had such a distinctive feel, neither cuspid nor molar…but I’m not sure it knew that – that was what endeared it to me so. It was like the blunted tusk of a wild boar.

Even as grief flickers in me, I feel something like a first kiss happening — a meeting with someone dearly amazing, life-changing, lucky....