Best 221 quotes in «romantic comedy quotes» category

Mancano venti miglia a Limerick» disse, mostrandosi molto interessata al percorso. «So leggere i cartelli, grazie» rispose lui, gelido. Piera sbuffò. «Volevo solo rendermi utile, non mettere in dubbio le tue doti di maschio alfa!» La frase le uscì male, provocatoria senza volerlo essere, e infatti, piccato, lui emise un ah! alquanto sarcastico e batté il pugno con violenza sul volante, facendo suonare il clacson. Piera sussultò, sorpresa se non spaventata. «Mi sento di tutto, ti assicuro, tranne che maschio, alfa, beta o delta che sia.» Ecco, ci siamo. «E per il quieto vivere» proseguì lui, «farò persino finta che la notte scorsa tu non mi abbia trattato come un sex-toy…» Questa volta un ah! sarcastico uscì dalle labbra di Piera. «Un sex cosa? Scusa, non ho capito bene.» «Un sex-toy.» «Non so neppure cosa sia.» «Non ne avevo il minimo dubbio.» «Lo prendo come un complimento.» «Prendilo come vuoi. Coniglietti, AH!» «Cosa c’entrano i conigli, adesso?» «Lascia perdere.» «No, spiegati, per favore.» «Una che dorme con dei conigli addosso non può certo sapere cosa sia un sex-toy.» «Ohhh! La mia camicia da notte non è di tuo gusto? Va’ al diavolo, Jean!

Mark Twain said, "Humor is mankind's greatest blessing." Dorsey Bing said, "I'll take womankind's greatest blessing: more wine.

Me: Cake, brownies, ice cream? GO! Zach: Yes. Me: NO! Pick one! HURRY Me: I’m at the store getting ready to check out and I NEED TO KNOW. I can’t decide. Help a cute, hangry girl out, would ya. Zach: How about…a brownie cake with ice cream. Me: I think I just came. Zach: I am known for my skills.

Meet Jake — He’s illegally hot and his dirty-talking will make you dizzy! Meet Hunter— He’s outspoken, impulsive and a rugged piece of eye candy! These Two Alpha Billionaires Believe In Sharing...Everything!

Men know that most women want to have an emotional connection with someone before they sleep with them. Men know that a lot of women think it's romantic to be friends first, and then the friendship blossoms into a relationship. Men know that they have to jump through all these hoops first, before they can get laid. And that's really all romance and courtship is to a man: hoops he has to jump through to get laid.

Milano, una scuola media statale, maggio 2014 «Professoressa, è arrivato un altro genitore, sa, per il colloquio…» Piera alzò gli occhi al cielo e guardò l’orologio: undici e dieci minuti. Dieci minuti di ritardo e nessun appuntamento. Sospirò. Parlare con un altro genitore voleva dire perdere quasi completamente l’ora buca che di solito utilizzava per correggere i compiti o fare qualche piccola commissione. E, accidempolina, aveva visto quell’abitino nella merceria di viale Brianza. L’unica merceria ancora aperta a Milano e l’aveva beccata lei! Dio, non era forse patetico comprare i vestiti in merceria? Forse solo sua nonna e le sue diaboliche amichette novantenni lo facevano ancora. Ma l’abitino era a buon mercato, semplice come piaceva a lei e… color grigio topo. Possibile che si vestisse solo di grigio? E senza nessuna dannatissima sfumatura, per giunta! Sorrise amaro, pensando ad altre sfumature, anche se non era quello il momento di piangere sulla sua castissima vita di single. Ora doveva incontrare il genitore ritardatario, privo di buona creanza e di un accidente di appuntamento. Be’, per questa volta avrebbe chiuso un occhio, anche perché forse si trattava della mamma di Diamante De Braud che aveva convocato già da un paio di settimane, ma che ancora non si era vista. Secondo Diamante, che tutti chiamavano Didi, la madre era in Irlanda a risposarsi da qualche parte. In Irlanda? A risposarsi con un leprechaun? Di certo un’altra frottola della ragazzina. Ok, era ora di vedere la genitrice inopportuna. «Le dica che arrivo fra cinque minuti, Flaminia» disse. La commessa la guardò con uno strano sorrisino sulle labbra. «Gli dica. È un papà. E non so se mi sono spiegata.» Non so se mi sono spiegata. No che non ti sei spiegata, Flaminia! Ora anche le commesse erano diventate petulanti? E quel sorrisetto ammiccante che diavolo voleva dire? Come se non avesse ricevuto nessuna gomitata metaforica nello sterno, finse di ributtarsi a capofitto sul compito che stava correggendo e con un che di acido rispose: «Gli dica, allora. Grazie». «Il genitore mi ha anche detto di dirle che lui ha molta fretta…» Piera alzò lo sguardo davanti a sé e sentì una fitta di rabbia trafiggerla. «È in ritardo e ha pure fretta?» Ora lo sistemo io, questo maleducato, pensò alzandosi con troppa foga e dirigendosi verso la porta con fare minaccioso. «Il registro, professoressa! Non dovrebbe portarlo con sé?» le ricordò Flaminia. Decisamente petulante. Trattenendo un’imprecazione, che in ogni caso non sarebbe stata molto più spinta di un perdindincibacco!, Piera si bloccò, girò su immaginari cardini e tornò sui suoi passi. Poi, a testa alta e col registro ben stretto in mano, passò di fianco a Flaminia che la guardava ancora con quello strano sorrisino. «Vedrà, professoressa, non se ne pentirà.» «Forse sarà lui, a pentirsene» mormorò lei tra i denti. Avrebbe detto il fatto suo a quel maleducato. Come no?

Mungkin kau harus berhenti memedulikan apa kata orang tentang dirimu.

My God, Mace was all man, the kind of man every warm-blooded woman would love to take home for the night, tie to her bed and let loose on. Sitting this close to him, my mind conjured up a long list of things I could do, just with my mouth.

No," he said roughly. "Stay." It took only one word. I stayed until he was ready to let go.

My mouth went dry as I tried to remember all of Poppie’s tips for kissing over the years. She told me no guy wanted a girl with a mouth as wide as a guppy, who sucked his tongue with the force of a Dyson vacuum cleaner first time, or licked him to death like an overeager puppy. She’d told me to just purse my lips and let him lead and take control. Don’t slobber, don’t slobber, don’t slobber, I chanted to myself as he got closer and closer

Oh. My. If it isn't the Christian Grey of Pilates!

Opposites attract but only to torture each other.

Once I checked my email, I would get lost in a book so I could feel the main character's pain instead of mine, laugh at her missteps rather than lament my own, and cheer for the happy ending that seemed to elude me.

One should not chug an entire glass of wine at an elegant dinner party. I start hacking and coughing, having practically water-boarded myself out of sheer humiliation.

Okay, okay,” I said to calm her down. “I promise I won’t see him again.” Though I felt like I had made that promise before…

Parli come se stessimo uscendo insieme seriamente» disse, guardandomi negli occhi con insistenza. «E non è così, vero?» Restai con la bocca talmente aperta da sembrare un tunnel ferroviario. Non sapevo cosa rispondere. Perché non stavamo uscendo? Certo che lo stavamo facendo, che diritto aveva di chiedermi spiegazioni? «Quale delle tue personalità multiple sta parlando in questo momento?» riuscii a dire. «Quella dello stronzo» sorrise. «A ogni modo, siamo adulti e il termine uscire è obsoleto.» «Sarà così per i trentenni. Io esco, ho degli appuntamenti e dei ragazzi, come mi hai presentato alla tua famiglia? Come un’estranea conosciuta grazie a un escremento di cane?» «No, come qualcuno di molto speciale.

Outside, the sunlight had turned pale lemon, but the studio remained cool. The white walls and white-tiled splashback behind the sink were made more clinical by the metal tables which looked as if they’d originally been intended for use in an operating theatre. Even though they were laid out with brushes and paints rather than forceps and retractors, the effect was equally daunting; both sets of tools could open you up in strange and unexpected ways.

Phoebe doesn't quite believe in fate the way I do. She says you have to chase your destiny, and she always expects life to be like a romantic comedy: all you have to do is dress the part of the heroine, and pretty soon you'll be kissing some hottie while fountains spew and music swells in the background.

Piera, la protagonista di Vuoi vedere che è proprio amore?, è una giovane donna che lavora. Professoressa di inglese alle medie, vorrebbe diventare fotografa...Chissà se ce la farà? Ecco un breve estratto. Lui, Jean, si presenta non invitato a casa sua e lei, dopo molti se e ma, lo porta nella sua camera oscura. Non pensate male! O forse pensatelo. "La seguì in una stanza illuminata solo da un paio di lampadine rosse. Un altoparlante collegato a un iPod stava diffondendo la voce di Paul McCartney. Hey Jude. Che fosse un segno del destino? Non che lui credesse a certe baggianate, ma quella era una delle sue canzoni preferite, di sempre. «Ti piacciono i Beatles?» le chiese fingendo un’indifferenza che non provava. «Oh sì. In genere adoro il rock classico. Ma i Beatles…» «Sono i Beatles. Punto.» «Punto, sono d’accordo. E Revolution è un grande album!» «Sei una donna piena di sorprese» disse, pensando al genere di musica scadente che piaceva a Jasmine. «Io? Piena di sorprese?» domandò ridendo, nello sguardo un luccichio improvviso. Nonostante la luce rossa, fu quasi certo che Bambi fosse arrossita, e a lui piaceva da morire quando lei arrossiva. I suoi occhi sembravano diventare più grandi e lei cominciava a mordicchiarsi il labbro inferiore. Come stava facendo in quel momento. «Benvenuto nella mia tana di fotografa dilettante» aggiunse lei dopo un istante. Jean si guardò intorno. C’era tutto l’occorrente per sviluppo e stampa. Alcune foto in bianco e nero erano pinzate con mollette da bucato a una corda che correva da una parte all’altra della stanza. Come biancheria ad asciugare. «Sono meravigliato» esclamò guardandosi intorno. «Una camera oscura in piena regola! Non posso credere che con la comodità del digitale tu ti dia tanta pena a far tutto da sola…» «Al contrario, adoro farlo. È il mio hobby segreto. E poi, solo così ottengo esattamente ciò che voglio. O quasi. Non nego che spesso qua dentro combino dei veri pasticci, ma chi non ne combina?»

Rough lips crashed against her own, and all those problems she’d had with breathing? They were a dim memory as her panic was replaced by something much better. If this was what human kissing was like, she could understand why it caused people’s clothes to fall off. She wished her clothes would start falling off already.

Romantic comedies very rarely deal with washing your lover's dishes because she has to be up early for work, since no one wants to see the mundane truth when they can flip the channel to a desperate, emotionally-limited frottage.

Ryan allowed himself a moment to enjoy the sight of her legs, long and muscular and indicative of her previous life as a dancer. Off-limits nannies shouldn't be allowed to have legs like that. A man could only get through so many lonely nights before he started to dream of sleek limbs wrapping around him and never letting go. Thankfully for them both, she lifted those sleek limbs away from his grasp. Out of reach, out of mind. Or at least in theory, anyway.

She didn’t sound overjoyed. She didn’t sound even slightly joyed.

She couldn’t be the first alien to crash-land on twenty-first-century Earth.

She’d played her part as the ugly duckling that never became a swan, but remained the goose inside a nightmarish cliché fairy-tale movie...

Save a horse. Ride a cowboy... or two!

Scarlett Garcia fell at the feet of no gloriously delicious man!

She came out of nowhere like a two-by-four against the skull, knocking all common sense out of him and turning him into a walking woody.

She had platonic all but tattooed on her forehead.

She had offered to drive, not least because it would have given her some control over the evening, but Gethin had raised an eyebrow and told her he liked a more comfortable ride. She assumed it was a reference to her van rather than some frank over-sharing.

Sometimes it's, run don't walk! Like when you're going to the arms of a loved one.

She scooted closer and put a hand on his leg again. He felt less like steel this time and more like a man who enjoyed the sensation of a feminine hand moving higher. "Are you taking advantage of me?" He drew in a ragged breath. "I'm trying really hard not to." She smiled and kept going, her hand squeezing as it continued its northward journey. She stopped just short of manhandling him. "Well, that makes one of us.

She was thinking of doing a little Cuervo therapy.

She wished now she'd brought that vibrator as a flashlight instead of leaving it on the couch.

She was Darcy Montgomery, Southern Sanctuary Special Liaison, she fixed things.  When people irritated her, well, she fixed them… she fixed them good.  Or should that be, for good?

Snuggling into my lumpy pillow again, it occurs to me that I’m laying down. Then it occurs to me that the arm rest between us must have been lifted because I am in fact lying on Elliot’s lap and the hard pillow that I’m snuggling my face into isn’t actually a pillow at all. And the reason it keeps getting harder is because… hello! Elliot Fielding is not as immune to me as he would like us both to believe. Before I sit up, I purposefully put my hands under my cheek and cop a brazen feel. Then I push up and stare into the eyes of the man who has allowed me to sleep on him for the past two hours.

So, how’d you get the tattoo?” she said. “Drunken frat boys don’t say no to things their drunken frat brothers are telling them to do.” “That almost sounds like an admission of weakness from the invulnerable Andrew Sheffield.” “Not weakness. Stupidity, maybe. That, I’ll cop to.” “I can’t believe the man behind such a successful business is stupid.” “You’d be surprised. Just as there are different kinds of intelligence, there are different kinds of stupid.

Some people just don’t find their Prince Charming straight away, they have to search for him.

Sometimes, if you want to survive, you’ve got to run. You have to run as far and as fast as you can

Speaking of body decorations, I luuhhhvv your belly piercing!” Heeb said, looking at the gold ring in the center of her slim, tan waist. Despite the artic cold, Angelina had opted for a skin tight, black tube top that ended just above her belly, on the assumption that a warm cab, a winter coat, and a short wait to get into the club was an adequate frosty weather strategy. Heeb was still reverently staring at her belly when Angelina finally caught her breath from laughing. “Do you really like it? You’re just saying that so that you can check out my belly!” “And what’s so bad about that? I mean, didn’t you get that belly piercing so that people would check out your belly?” “No. I just thought it would look cool…Do you have any piercings?” “Actually, I do,” Heeb replied. “Where?” “My appendix.” “Huh?” “I wanted to be the first guy with a pierced organ. And the appendix is a totally useless organ anyway, so I figured why the hell not?” “That’s pretty original,” she replied, amused. “Oh yeah. I’ve outdone every piercing fanatic out there. The only problem is when I have to go through metal detectors at the airport.” Angelina burst into laughs again, and then managed to say, “Don’t you have to take it out occasionally for a cleaning?” “Nah. I figure I’ll just get it removed when my appendix bursts. It’ll be a two for one operation, if you know what I mean.

So, what do you say? Want to be my date for what is absolutely guaranteed to be a miserable evening—and before you answer, please remember I brought you a muffin.

The only thing better than a cowboy in Wranglers is a cowboy out of Wranglers.

Suddenly I’m no longer aware of the people around us, just the feel and the warmth and the scent of Daniel, and the way he’s holding me near to him

The blues are intent and watchful. “You’re trying to get me to change my mind, aren't you?” “Lilah, I constantly hope that you are going to change your mind, but I know you well enough to know that you won’t.” I just nod at him.

The fish is that perfect, amazing guy it can never work out with—you know, a bird and a fish may fall in love—but where would they live? . . . So the fish is your total dream guy, he’s smart, he’s handsome, he gets all your jokes, he loves to talk, he gives you a nine-hour orgasm and then makes you homemade chocolate chip pancakes and serves you breakfast in bed—but he lives all the way across the country and neither of you can move, or he’s married, or next in line for the throne, or he has a terminal disease or something . . . the fish.

The man who’d saved her wasn’t just a pair of sexy lips and a rugged jaw with big, yummy eyes. He was the whole package. Seriously? What Earth woman would prefer downloading offspring when she could ravage this instead?

The mystery of keeping some secrets by not sharing everything about each other until they met face-to-face, made their relationship deliciously stimulating and intense. Their online chemistry was undeniable; the desire exhilarating. Ella kept daydreaming about their first touch, the raging urge it would stir, and a slow burn that could not be extinguished.

Stop,” he murmured, or at least that’s what he meant to say. It came out sounding more like “Yes,” which probably wasn’t the same thing at all.

Taking her tiny hand into both of mine, I lift it to my chest, placing it right over my racing heart. “You feel that?” I rasp, swallowing hard. Her head bobs. “That’s yours. It’s always been. So, the next time you try to convince yourself that you know what’s best for me, I want you to remember what you feel when we’re together.” I touch the pads of my first two fingers to her neck, feeling her pulse flutter against my skin. “I feel it, too.

that kid may not carry my DNA, but by God, I don’t care. I love that little shit like my own and I want to be his daddy.