Best 293 quotes in «love at first sight quotes» category

Our eyes will know the heavens if our lips stay for each other.

Ô, Wanderess, Wanderess When did you feel your most euphoric kiss? Was I the source of your greatest bliss?

Ponekad toliko zelimo da vidimo neku osobu da bezimo od susreta sa njom.

Our lips were for each other and our eyes were full of dreams. We knew nothing of travel and we knew nothing of loss. Ours was a world of eternal spring, until the summer came.

Rose looked down to the sheet of paper, saw a number and where to sign. Butch was holding out a pen for her to take. When she reached for the pen her fingers grazed lightly against his. She felt it. She saw it. The tiniest arc of electricity. It was as if flint and steel met, just waiting for the right moment to spark the dry tinder into a burning inferno.

Seek tears. Expect loneliness

Romance her, enhance her, desire her, put her first.

She couldn't turn away from the eyes that held her. Eyes as deep, as Dark as the night, yet there was something that sparked with warmth, that kept those eyes from being cold.

Reminiscent of a diamond, she is gifted, privileged, and positioned to glisten.

She'll be really impressed if you take control and let her follow your lead.

She: Do you think you own me? He: No I don't own you. I love you!

She smells like passion; like irresistible desire and temptation. She’s eclipsing in a daytime and shining at night. She smells like nakedness, even when she is warmly dressed. She has wild eyes. She smells like seduction; she is both an apple and a snake. She smells like great expectations; like success; like centuries-old glory. She’s like the last refuge. She smells like a final wish. She smells like a new beginning.

She looked around the room, glanced over him and Micah waited. Her Gaze passed him, then again. On the third pass she lingered as she continued to watch her, allowing his gaze to memorize those features just before her eyes met his. A jolt od power flashed through him. Her ligth blue eyes flickered with interest, fear, then interest again, as though she wasn't certain which she should feel. He let his gaze continue to hers, let his mind reach out to her, soothe her, ease her. He used his eyes rather than his expression to calm the fear that he knew he would be rising within her. Micah knew the power of a look. When two people touched from across a distance, that touch could be frightening, wary, or a stroke of gentleness. He stroked her gently. He never let his eyes dip below her chin; rather, he let himself take in every nuance of expression, every shift of each facial motion, the flicker of her lashes, the shadows in her eyes, the tension in her small body. She was like a little bird ready to fly. Poised at the edge of her seat.her body stiff and prepared to run. Easy, little bird, he thought, letting his thoughts touch his gaze. There is no pain here; there is no fear.

. She was beautiful, and her temperament seemed much better than his first wife did. Arman stopped in the middle of the Windsor knot on his tie. Who was he trying to kid, he thought. An enraged rabid pit bull in heat would have had a better temperament then his first wife.

She wanted Adam Fox with the fervour of parched earth thirsting for water, corn aching for the warmth of ripening sun, a starving skeleton drooling over a crust of bread. Her passionate young body yearned to feel his touch, soft lips quivered an invitation to be kissed, wounded eyes promised a lifetime of devotion, if only . . .

She tried to seem unreachable, but the wall of her impregnability was built of bricks in the form of her weaknesses.

She would never tell him and was ashamed to admit it, even to herself, but she’d fallen in love with him the instant she’d seen him. She’d been taken at gunpoint to the alleyway outside a gallery showing her paintings and had seen a powerful man, not tall but immensely broad. He was facing three armed thugs and he hadn’t looked frightened at all. He’d looked dangerous. And she’d fallen.

She sought his eyes once again. Eyes so perfect a blue they rivaled the most gorgeous lapis lazuli stone.

She was aware that she was close to tears and her stomach was hollow with excitement, throat dry. Coup de foudre, the French called it. The thunderclap. The best kind of love of all. Instant and quite irrevocable

Sometimes it’s typical to think you found what you desire, but then the opposition can happen, causing reevaluation on your options. Conversely, when you find beauty in something that holds treasures, you may have found beauty to your heart’s desire that harvest love or pain through it. The harvest is inevitable, but your senses redirect for proper discernment and perception.

Something about him feels like forever…

Some things, Cassie, you just feel. You don’t know. You feel them. In here,” Gabriel said, pointing to his chest. “I knew without words, without facts, without knowing every last detail about you and your life that I was drawn to you. That we had a connection. I was mesmerized. The kind of thing that is rare.

Take control from the moment you step in her place. She'll be pleasantly surprised and impressed.

The beauty with modest smile, whose secrecy of silent love had just been stolen, beamed at this wonderful offer and she replenished herself with his love as a carefree child cossetted with luxurious warmth after a cold shower.

Sometimes, when we least expect it, we catch a glimpse of someone, a face, perhaps only a smile, and our heart latches on and will not let go. It may not be love at first, but soon and for always.

The door opened after a few moments. Sherlock was looking slightly upwards, expecting Amyus Crowe to be standing inside the doorway, and for a moment he was confused by the empty space. His gaze droped, and he felt his heart stutter as it came to rest on the face of a girl at the same level as his own. Her cloths were dark, and in the shadows of the hall her face seemed to be floating in mid-air.

The faster you search for a new partner, the faster you will get over your break-up blues…. Love is nothing more than an illusion.

The clue to everything a man should love and fear in her was there right from the start in the ironic smile that primed and swelled the archery of her full lips. There was pride in that smile and confidence in the set of her fine nose. Without understanding why I knew beyond question that a lot of people would mistake her pride for arrogance and confuse her confidence with impassivity. I didn't make that mistake. My eyes were lost swimming floating free in the shimmering lagoon of her steady even stare. Her eyes were large and spectacularly green. It was the green that trees are in vivid dreams. It was the green that the sea would be if the sea were perfect.

The first time I noticed Francesca in the Rialto, I thought she was alone. Then the crowd shifted and I saw her massive Mother Superior standing at the stall of a spice merchant, picking through a sack of peppercorns, her nose twitching like a rabbit's, her face set and ready to do battle over the price. Francesca waited nearby, swinging her market basket and smiling at passersby. That smile snagged me, held me, and wouldn't let me go. She had all her teeth and they were white, so white, and her face was clean and sunstruck. A dog, small and wiry, sniffed the hem of her robe, and she knelt down to pet it. I heard her cooing and the dog nuzzled into her arms. She glanced around to be sure Mother Superior wasn't watching, then quickly took a sausage from her basket and fed it to the dog. He bolted it down greedily and then looked up at her with naked adoration. She laughed, and her laughter made me think of a field of wildflowers. Francesca pulled a square of lace from her sleeve to wipe the sausage grease from her fingers, and I had the fleeting thought that I'd never before seen a nun with such a fine lace handkerchief. But that thought vanished with the sight of Mother Superior rising up behind her. The older nun stood over her, shouting. "Don't you know better than to touch a stray animal? I swear, you're hopeless, girl. Hopeless." The light went out of Francesca's face. She moved off behind the older woman but looked back at the little dog and rolled her eyes. She waved good-bye and her fingers moved like butterflies.

Teenage crush is like flu. If you find a remedy for it, it lasts for a couple of days. If you don't, it still lasts for a couple of days.

The first love is the one that leaves an everlasting impression on the heart.

The first six months are what I call the La La Land phase. This is what a lot of romantic novels, songs, and movies are based upon. Enjoy the courtship, nights out, and fun. You will eventually come back to reality.

The greatest wonderful feeling is falling in love.

The greatest law is: love yourself first

The moment my niece came into the world, I realized that logic can't make sense of someone who's so brand new to you.

The moment that every unrealised heart craves for. The unforgettable instant that a soul, clinging on to the purest memory of its previous life, longs for. The second, that in spite of a conspiracy of the gods, only a few lucky men experience. The moment when she enters his life.

The glance of women resembles certain combinations of wheels, which are tranquil in appearance yet formidable. You pass close to them every day, peaceably and with impunity, and without a suspicion of anything. A moment arrives when you forget that the thing is there. You go and come, dream, speak, laugh. All at once you feel yourself clutched; all is over. The wheels hold you fast, the glance has ensnared you. It has caught you, no matter where or how, by some portion of your thought which is fluttering loose, by some distraction which had attacked you. You are lost. The whole of you passes into it. A chain of mysterious forces takes possession of you. You struggle in vain; no more human succor is possible. You go on falling from gearing to gearing, from agony to agony, from torture to torture, you, your mind, your fortune, your future, your soul; and, according to whether you are in the power of a wicked creature, or of a noble heart, you will not escape from this terrifying machine otherwise than disfigured with shame, or transfigured by passion.

The only virtue is reckless love

There is no love that is not self-love

There is no moment that exceeds in beauty that moment when one looks at a woman and finds that she is looking at you in the same way that you are looking at her. The moment in which she bestows that look that says, "Proceed with your evil plan, sumbitch." The initial smash on glance. The, the drawing near. This takes a long time, it seems like months, although only minutes pass, in fact. Languor is the word that describes this part of the process. Your persona floats toward her persona, over the Sea of Hesitation. Many weeks pass before they meet, but the weeks are days, or seconds. Still, everything is decided. You have slept together in the glance.

There was something in your eyes. Your eyes spoke to me a million things.

There is not much left to see in this world if one sees her once.

The secret of attraction is to love yourself.

There is more beauty in someone flawed than someone who sees themselves as perfect

Though you should still let her do what she wants, don't let her take total control of you or you won't be making the most of your experience.

Three things in life you will never have to chase: True friends, true love and your destiny!

Today I saw you and spoke to you for the first time. It was like an earthquake; everything in me was overturned, the graves of my heart were opened and my own nature was strange to me. I am forty, and I believed I had reached the autumn of life. I had wandered far, known much and lived many lives. The Lord had spoken to me, manifesting Himself in many ways; to me angels had revealed themselves and I had not believed them. But when I saw you I was compelled to believe, because of the miracle that happened to me.

To love and be loved is a wonderful feeling.

True Love comes only once in life with one person,if its come second time its just medicine to forget first one.

To him, Layla's promising aroma was not a reminder of a long-lost boyhood or the instigator of teenage lust. No, for Malachy, the sight of Layla's exotic profile filling up a bag of white onions was a sign, a resounding 'yes' to the age-old questions of the divine. Yes, there was a God. Yes, there was life beyond the sleepy valleys of Ballinacroagh. Yes, there 'were' undiscovered universes waiting just for him. And one of them was standing right before him, in all her astounding milky ways.