Best 1093 quotes in «true love quotes» category

I'm all right, Nic," Wolfe said, and finally looked at him. "We walked through the dungeons under Rome, survived Philadelphia, and this perfumed cage won't bring us to our knees. We're all stronger than that." "All right," Santi said. "But don't ask me to stop standing next to you. Because you know I will, however much you shout about it.

I married a man who was as much a part of me as my own soul.

I may forget myself, but you I could never forget.

Im happy to sit and be an ear to listen when the world gets wild but Id much prefer to watch the ways your eyes in sparkle in the midst of convincing me why you love the things you do. It gives me hope that someone else out there feels everything with this much depth and has the willingness to create a beautiful life from it.

I’m not beautiful. My mother—” “I know. Your mother was a knockout, and you’re paper bag ugly... Sorry to upset all those cherished illusions of yours, but I don’t see it your way.” “That’s because you didn’t know her.” “Could your mother have led tiger back into its cage?” “Maybe not that, but she was very good with men. They’d do anything for her.” “This man will do anything for you.

I'm not in love, The love is within me!

I’m not… What’s wrong with them believing?” Bea asked, a note of pleading creeping, uninvited, into her voice. “You do not sell belief, you sell belief-in. Belief in true love, as if everyone were entitled to it. Belief in a simple solution to a complex problem. Belief in one type of person, one type of future.” “No I don’t. I offer people dreams, and hope, and, and, something to organise their lives with,” Bea said, not sure why she was trying to convince him. “I don’t make them into ‘one person’.” “Oh no? Let me recall your doctrine: Kings, Princes and their ilk must marry girls whose only asset is their beauty. Not clever girls, not worthy girls, not girls who could rule. Powerful women, older women – like one day you will become – are nought but wicked creatures, consumed with jealousy and unfit to hold position. No,” he said as Bea began to speak, “I am not finished. Let us turn our attention to the men. As long as the woman is something to be won, it follows only the worthy will prevail. It matters not if they truly love the girl, nor if the man is cruel or arrogant or unfit to tie his own doublet. As long as he has wealth and completes whatever trials are decided fit, he is suitable. For what is stupidity or arrogance when compared against a crown? The good will win, and the wicked perish, and you and your stories decide what makes a person good or wicked. Not life. Not choice. Not even common sense. You.

I'm renowned within the ton as being cool under fire- around you, I'm never cool. I'm heated- I seethe- I burn with desire. If I'm in the same room, all I can think about is heat- your heat- and how you'll feel around me." Patience felt the heat rise, a real force between them. "I've gained the reputation of being the soul of discretion- now look at me. I've seduced my godmother's niece- and been seduced by her. I share her bed openly, even under my godmother's roof." His lips twisted wryly. "So much for discretion." He drew a deep breath; his chest brushed her breasts. "And as for my vaunted, up-until-you 'legendary' control- the instant I'm inside you that evaporates like water on hot steel." What prompted her Patience never knew. His lips were so close- with her teeth, she nipped the lower. "I told you to let go- I won't break." The tension, pouring off him in waves, eased, just a little. He sighed, and rested his forehead on hers. "I don't like losing control- it's like losing myself- in you." She felt him gather himself, felt the tension swell and coalesce about them. "It's giving myself to you- so that I'm in your keeping." The words, low and gravelly, rolled through her; closing her eyes, she drew in a shallow breath. "And you don't like doing that." "I don't like it- but I crave it. I don't approve of it, yet I yearn for it." His words feathered her cheek, then his lips touched hers. "Do you understand? I haven't any choice." Patience felt his chest swell as he drew a deep breath. "I love you." She shivered, eyes shut tight, and felt the world shift about her. "Losing myself in you- giving my heart and soul into your keeping- is part of that." His lips brushed hers in an inexpressibly tender caress. "Trusting you is part of that. Telling you I love you is part of that." His lips touched hers; Patience didn't wait for more. She kissed him. Letting go of the post, she slid her hands up, framing his face, so she could let him know- let him feel- her response to all he'd said. He felt it, sensed it- and reacted; his arms locked tight about her. She couldn't breathe, but she didn't care. All she cared about was the emotion that held them, that flowed so effortlessly between them. Silver and gold, it wound about them, investing each touch with its magic. Silver and gold, it shimmered about them, and quivered in their fractured breaths. It was immediate compulsion and future promise, heavenly delight and earthly pleasure. It was here and now- and forever.

My beloved is all radiant and ruddy, distinguished among ten thousand. His head is the finest gold. His eyes are like doves beside springs of water.... His cheeks are like beds of spices yielding fragrance. His lips are lilies, distilling liquid myrrh. His arms are rounded gold, set with jewels. His body is ivory work, encrusted with sapphires.... This is my beloved and this is my friend, O daughters of Jerusalem.

In a world full of war and hate Her body is my temple and she is my religion Scared yet spirited - as she laid bare The demons she had slayed and spared I can't help but fall into the depths of her - The Depths of Her -

In cricket- be fit, be alert and be Sachin.

Individually, we are one drop. Together, we are an Ocean.

In each club we went the dancers had the same moves, none nearly as sensuous as mine on any dance floor, but because they are scantily clad and stripping off the men go nuts and throw money at them. In the largest club and the last we went to I watched one pretty girl with big boobs pull a handful of twenties in one set. I followed her to the ladies-room to learn she only danced a few rounds per night and averaged $250 every night and with my face and body she said I would bank much more.

I need to fall in love with a hopeless romantic. Someone who would tell me that my eyes are like the stars at night and how my morning bed hair looks like a windswept forest that dances whenever the sky cries every time the ocean quenches her thirst for love. Someone who believes in fate, destiny, and magic. Someone who believes that finding true love is a necessity to cope up with the sadness and agony that life brings. Someone who believes that I exist.

I needed him like I needed air to breathe.

I never wanted anything as bad as I want you

I never loved anyone else and never desired to. She was my companion, my lover, and my teacher.

In love, there is no need to choose between self and other, because self is other.

° I no longer saw God's commandments concerning sex and marriage as a prohibition, but as His loving protection. ° I no longer thought of sexual purity as a rule, but as a desired virtue. °I no longer was attracted to the guys that treated girls like commodities, but was now attracted to men of character who modeled Jesus' humility and self-sacrifice. °I no longer saw my body as something to use to gain a guys attention; I now viewed it as God's holy temple.

Oh," said her husband, sounding deeply pleased at something he'd read in his letter. "What?" Bridget sat up, inadvertently spilling several drops of honey on her breast. Sadly, she succumbed to her husband's fondness for nudity soon after their marriage. Valentine glanced up, but his gaze was immediately drawn to the honey slowly dripping down her breast. "Val..." Bridget moved to scoop the honey up with her finger. His hand darted out, catching hers. "Oh, don't," he breathed, leaning over her, forcing her flat on her back. He bent, closing his azure eyes, and licked her breast almost reverently. She shuddered. "It's the middle of the day," she whispered. His eyes opened, wicked and amused. "I know. Your favorite." She smiled up at him, threading her fingers through his golden hair. "I love you." "And I love you," he murmured against her lips, before taking her mouth hard and possessively. Their letters fell to the floor, abandoned, but Bridget didn't care at all. She was with her true love and the world outside could wait.

In the end, Mothers are always right. No one else tells the truth.

In the vastness of space and the immensity of time, it is my joy to share a planet and an epoch with Annie. [Dedication to Sagan's wife, Ann Druyan, in Cosmos]

In your life, you have only one friend. who full filly yours all dream and He/She everything do for you and stay with you always and one bigger think is he/she all do for yours smile without any selfiness

I press my face against his chest, inhale his scent, take comfort from it. "I'm so sorry, Victor. I'm not sure I realized how truly awful this is for you." "It could be worse. I might not have you." I sink against him. "Trust me," he whispers.

In our ever busy world, patience is now not easily found like diamonds.

In that moment, the moon and the sun shared the sky. For all of eternity, the moon and sun have chased each other around the world. Long into the future, they will continue this chase, merging the days into months into years into centuries, until the day the sun cannot take the separation any longer and she shatters, engulfing the moon and everything else in a burst of light. Most will call it the day of final judgment. The end. To the sun and the moon, it will only be the beginning. For the smallest of instants each day, they pause in this chase. They pause and look back at one another, smiling as if sharing a secret. Two lovers that can never exist as one, except in that single, brief instant. Lying there, Persephone smiled too. And as quickly as a smile parts two lips, the two sky wanderers parted ways. The chase was on again. Night gave way to day. That is true love, she had always thought. No force but love can impel one to step willingly into the shadows so that the other may shine.

In the past, the starting point of my relationships was what I wanted instead of what God wanted. I looked out for my needs and fit others into my agenda. Did I find fulfillment? No, I found only compromise and heartache. I not only hurt others; I also hurt myself, and most seriously, I sinned against God.

Intimacy transcends the physical. It is a feeling of closeness that isn’t about proximity, but of belonging. It is a beautiful emotional space in which two become one.

In your eyes there are countless stars yet to be discovered. Why will I look for another sky?

Isabella." He pronounced my full name carefully, then playfully ruffled my hair with his free hand. A shock ran through my body at his casual touch. "Bella, I couldn't live with myself if I ever hurt you. You don't know how it's tortured me." He looked down, ashamed again. "The thought of you, still, white, cold . . . to never see you blush scarlet again, to never see that flash of intuition in your eyes when you see through my pretenses . . . it would be unendurable." he lifted his glorious, agonized eyes to mine. "You are the most important thing to me now. The most important thing to me ever.

I said, somewhat confused, “What’s the problem?” [Kristy] rolled her eyes. Beside her, Monica said, “Donneven.” “Kristy.” Delia shook her head. “This isn’t the time or the place, okay?” “The time or the place for what?” Caroline asked. “There is never,” Kristy said adamantly, “a time or place for true love. It happens accidentally, in a heartbeat, in a single flashing, throbbing moment.” “Throbbing?” my mother said, leaning forward and looking at me. “Who’s throbbing?” “Macy and Wes,” Kristy told her. “We are not,” I said indignantly. “Kristy,” Delia said helplessly. “Please God I’m begging you, not now.” “Wait a second, wait a second.” Caroline held her hands up. “Kristy. Explain.” “Yes, Kristy,” my mother said, but she was looking at me. Not really mad as much as confused. Join the club, I thought. “Explain.” Bert said, “This ought to be good.” Kristy ignored him, tucking a piece of hair behind her ear. “Wes wants to be with Macy. And Macy, whether she’ll admit it or not, wants to be with Wes. And yet they’re not together, which is not only unjust, but really, when you think about it, tragical.” “That’s not a word,” Bert pointed out. “It is now,” she said. “How else can you explain a situation where Wes, a truly extraordinary boy, would be sent packing in favor of some brainiac loser…” “Why,” I said, feeling embarrassed, “do we have to keep talking about this?” “Because it’s tragical!” Kristy said….”I’ll tell you what it is. It’s wrong. You should be with Wes, Macy. The whole time you guys were hanging out, talking about how you were both with other people, it was so obvious to everyone. It was even obvious to Wes. You were the only one who couldn’t see it, just like you can’t see it now.” “Mmm-hmm,” Monica said aloud.

I still had my hand on his side, careful not to press. He reached out and hooked a finger into the belt loop on my jeans. It felt so natural, so fulfilling, to be there with him. To talk with him as if we did it everyday. As if we'd been doung it every day for years. Not even the heat of Ian's fury could penetrate the warmth I was getting from Reyes.

So you do believe in... true love? she whispered. I took a deep breath, I think I have to, I said, blinking back tears. Without it, we're all going nowhere.

I stopped losing my sleep over you... Now i lie awake in search of me!!

Is it love, or is it attachment? Do you want to love her, or do you want to control her?

Is it love, or is it convenience?... She explained that connivence, habit, comfort, obligation- these are all things that wear the same clothing as love sometimes.

it argues that true love will triumph in the end (which may or may not be true) but if it’s a lie, it’s the most beautiful lie we have!

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

It doesn't matter how you look, what your weight is or how much makeup you put on. The right guy will love you for what's on the inside.

It doesn't matter," said Persephone. "He [Henry] wasn't supposed to do that. While I ruled with him, we only made a few exceptions, and even then there were so many caveats that no one ever really made it back to the surface. He violated everything he's stood for since the dawn of humanity to save your life.

I think that love is the measure of how much strain a back or a heart will endure for someone who's worth it.

I think he won a tiny piece of my heart that day. If he didn't have the whole damn thing before then, he certainly had part of it now.

I think part of the reason why we hold so tight is because we fear something so great won’t happen twice.

I think that the process of giving your true love to someone, mainly surrounds the act of opening a door inside that's all locked up. Behind that door lives the small child that is the real you. The small child who hurts too much and feels too much and laughs too loud and always believes... true love involves unlocking the many padlocks on that door, taking her by the hand, and guiding her to the arms of the one you've chosen to love. And I think this is why some people change forever... because they loved someone in this way, but it only hurt too much. The little one was wounded. So this is why you take her back and tell her she's better off staying inside. It is a poetic, lyrical tragedy. Some people die this way, before they ever are dead. Or maybe we don't die; maybe we live on, behind that door.

I think, that you can meet someone one day, who possesses the eyes you never had but always needed; the vision to see backwards and forwards and all around, the other wing that you need to complete your flight. And I think it can just happen, suddenly, without explanation! And then I think, it would be good to keep that person, you'll always have those eyes, and always have two wings.

I thought love was supposed to be weak knees and butterflies in your stomach and a terrible longing that could never be quenched." Eeny shook her head, chuckled, came over and embraced me. "No, child", she said gently, patting my back. "That's romance. Romance is build on doubt. Love is solid. Constant. If you're not careful, you might mistake it for bein' boring because it's so reliable. Love is warm and deep and comfortable, just right, so you float in peacefully without ever being scalded or frozen, like a perfect, relaxing bubble bath.

It is not until you rhyme with a person that makes you their perfect match, it is when you are satisfied with each others peculiarities, and find jewels in their loopholes.

It is hard to understand what love is!

It is highly impossible for you to be successful at what you don’t love. Do what you love and love what you do.

It is not beauty that keeps a relationship alive, it is attachment. Without attachment, a naked body is merely a lifeless sex toy.