Best 875 quotes in «kiss quotes» category

This is the kind of kiss that promises forever.", FADE by Kailin Gow

This is the power of a kiss: It does not have the power to kill you. But it has the power to bring you to life.

This is the part where I kiss you.

This kiss was hello. It was I've missed you, I've craved you, I've never forgotten you. This kiss was love.

This kiss was hello. It was I've missed you, I've craved you, I've never forgotten you. It was love.

This was no peck on the lips. This was a real first kiss, a movie-star-knock-her-socks-off-fireworks-light-up-the-sky kind of kiss. A girl could live to be a hundred and never forget that kiss.

This time I kiss him, and it's the best kiss, because I'm certain now. A million more will follow.

This was a different kind of a kiss, not one that leads to something, but a hard, painful one. It was a goodbye kiss.

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.

Those blue pools still wavered between her eyes and mouth. “I’m gonna kiss you now, minou.” She might have nodded. She might have blinked. One for yes, two for hell yeah.

Thrilling, is when I kiss my wife with love.

Time, I think, is like walking backward away from something: say, from a kiss. First there is the kiss; then you step back, and the eyes fill up your vision, then the eyes are framed in the face as you step further away; the face then is part of a body, and then the body is framed in a doorway, then the doorway framed in the trees beside it. The path grows longer and the door smaller, the trees fill up your sight and the door is lost, then the path is lost in the woods and the woods lost in the hills. Yet somewhere in the center still is the kiss. That's what time is like.

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

Time seemed to stop; the world around them stilled. There was only her. His thumb caressed at her lips, the lips he wanted to kiss. Katianna rolled her face in his palm—a caressing nuzzle and he stilled, his breath froze in his chest. A response. A submissive one at that. His heart, stilled fractured by that single nuance, but his loins burst with a wave of warmth. A response—it had been a response. Oh fuck he had to kiss her. His whole body was screaming for her now.

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 be powerful, a kiss should make a journey, be its own story--begin with hesitation, move to realization, then melt into bliss.

To describe a kiss is to describe a diary entry or a pair of underwear—each is personal and private, slightly awkward. Very awkward. But necessary.

Todo desapareció a su alrededor y sólo tuvieron consciencia de sus labios unidos tomando y recibiendo. En verdad apenas fue un beso, la sugerencia de un contacto esperado e inevitable, pero ambos estaban seguros de que ése sería el único beso que pudieran recordar hasta el fin de sus días y de todas las caricias la única en dejar una huella certera en sus nostalgias. Supieron que dentro de años todavía podrían evocar con presión el contacto húmedo y cálido de sus labios, el olor a pasto fresco y la tormentosa sensación de sus espíritus.

To his surprise, Jean kissed him. So often in the past, teasing, she had said she would, one day. Now she did, and it was a quick and fragrant touch to his lips that gave him courage and, even before he started out made him yearn to come back home.

To expect to be kissed having bad breath is the secret of a fool.

to heal you have to get to the root of the wound and kiss it all the way up

To have a man kiss you in a women’s jail is a gift better than any birthday or Christmas present. It’s better than a bouquet of roses. It’s better than a warm shower. I could imagine living in this jail for years and living for every workshop day and that male kiss on my cheek. That kiss was rain, sunshine, and the sweet air of outside. Yes. I knew I’d even sit there and glue stupid things onto cardboard sheets just to get that kiss again.

We kissed each other until we were too tired to keep going. I could still feel him holding back. It was my penance for what I had done to him. All I could do was hope the walls would fall and that I could have all of him again, but I was always leaving and he was tired of watching me walk away. We both knew that I couldn’t stay and that he couldn’t come with me, but still, we couldn’t let go.

Vampire Diaries instead of Supernatural? (Bad choice.)

Was... That a "you've been a clever boy" kiss? Or... Uh...

We are born to kiss the stars and dance with the Moon.

We are forever changed, forever united. From almost-us to always us. We kiss with our eyes closed but our senses open, infusing the spaces between with the elements of the other.

We cannot see love yet its nurturing warmth is the essence of our being and sorrow can touch our very soul. For remorse is like a ripple on the ocean, once given it remains only in the heart of the receiver. Believe in Yourself by Grace Willows

We kiss and I feel like a millionaire.

To love at a distance and without hope; never to possess; to dream chastely of pale charms and impossible kisses extinguished on the waxen brow of death: ah, that is something like it. A delicious straying away from the world, and never the return. As only the unreal is not ignoble and empty, existence must be admitted to be abominable. Yes, imagination is the only good thing which heaven vouchsafes to the skeptic and pessimist, alarmed by the eternal abjectness of life.

Tonight, I decided to take a stroll down to my local liquor store. Maybe I’ll find a refreshment to wash down this full moon. I hate showing up & the clerk fucking knows my name, perhaps because I’m a regular. Anyways got my shit, left…barely covering the tax. Took the long way home; to get away from that haunting typewriter. Sat down at some park bench, as I started to open my poison; A memory rushed into me. A empty bottle of Jack Daniel’s under the Christmas tree. I thought my dad would want another drink, so started to pour my bottle into the dirt & cried.

Tonight I've set my body on fire I've burned my fingers On your chest and abs And as the flame Continued consuming me I blew my air kisses All over you Until I've heard The explosion.

Tonight Must Last Us Forever

Tony and Peg have two kids, Terry-Lynn and Harvey, both of whom are enrolled in so many extracurricular and afterschool clubs that they hardly ever see their parents. If Terry-Lynn is in Girl Guides, she doesn’t have to see Peg inviting the Purolator man in for “a cup of coffee”. If Harvey is in the anime drawing club, he doesn’t have to see Peg kissing Mr. Cooper from across the street, even if all the other neighbours secretly know what’s going on. Tony has no idea, all he knows is that Peg isn’t the same Peg he married back in 2003. All he knows is that she’s changed a great deal, and not for the better, like a beautiful butterfly regressing back into a devouring, ugly caterpillar in the span of only a couple of months.

True Love is not monkey love, it is not blind, and it does not expect anything in return. Love is flowing like a breeze on the beach and Love connects like a kiss or hug. Love simply is, by Gardener.

Two spacemen touching in anti-gravity is like a kiss. But then, there is nothing like a kiss. A kiss is a rare bird. The first sip of champagne. The fleeting glimpse of a shooting star. The kiss is uniquely human. We exchange bodily fluids with a kiss. A great kiss is like eating melon on a picnic. Like diving into a warm sea. A French kiss is a battle of tongues where everyone wins.

Urges. Mercy, the urges.

We are living a life full of first experiences, from a first kiss, to the first time giving blood, to conceptual and philosophical explanations of humanity’s firsts.

We end up kissing her for an hour, and her lips are so soft they are almost like a joke.

We had the longest kisses under the Acacia tree.

We kiss for a long time, a good long time. I don’t even notice that it’s cold and I forget to be afraid because that’s just how good a kisser he is. His lips move above my lips. My lips ache for the touch of him, the softness of his skin. We keep kissing. My hands wrap themselves in his hair. His hand presses me close into him, as close as I can be against him, and he is solid, strong, amazing. My hands leave his hair and journey down to the sides of his face, still tingling. “We should keep going,” he says, voice gruff and husky again. I love when his voice sounds like that, deeper than normal. His lips puff out a little more, too. “You’re blushing.” I pull my lips in against each other like I’m still trying to taste him. I move my snowshoes off of his snowshoes. It’s tricky. “You’re a good kisser,” I say. “So are you.

We must avoid possession," he said. "But, oh, let me kiss you.

We shouldn't be doing this." Dan broke the silence, his voice low. "We would both get in trouble." He stood up. "Let's go back." "We shouldn't be doing what?" I scrambled to my feet. "What exactly are we doing?" "This." "You mean consorting?" "Sure, consorting. Cavorting. Carousing." He paused to take a deep breath. "Kissing." Then he leaned in and pressed his mouth to mine.

We suck the pain from each other's lips until everything just blurs away

We still have a lot to talk about," I said. "Talk?" He shook his head, his eyes full of desire. Kiss, he whispered to my thoughts.

We write "I love you" on the mouth by the kisses that touch it. (On écrit "je t'aime" sur bouche - Par les bisous qui la touchent.)

What are you doing to me, you plague of a girl?” he whispered. “If I’m a plague, then you should keep your distance, unless you plan on being destroyed.” “No. Destroy Me.

We kiss with our eyes closed but our senses open, infusing the spaces between with the elements of the other.

What are the stars telling you?" I asked. Max pushed up on his elbows and pretended to strain his ear toward the sky. "They say...They say...you're allowed to forgive yourself." I rolled sideways...and he did the same. "For what?" I asked. "Living." "I'm not very good at that," I admitted. "Well, you kissed someone without flinching. Maybe you're getting better." "Maybe it's just you." He didn't argue.

What if just you and I hung out, like last summer?" Nick sat up and began twirling a lock of my wet hair around his finger. "Josh never needs to know.