Best 221 quotes in «romantic comedy quotes» category

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.

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

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

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.

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…

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

Opposites attract but only to torture each other.

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.

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.

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.

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.

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.

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?»

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.

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.

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.

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

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

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

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...

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.

She had platonic all but tattooed on her forehead.

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?

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.

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.

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, 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.

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

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.

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.

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 door to Jakes’ office slammed against the wall, and Vivi barreled through the opening. “Turn this ship around right now.

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.

That's when it hit me. I had to go through a lot of bad relationships first, but I'd finally found him. My very own Prince Charming. Turns out they do exist. Touché, Cinderella. Touché.

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

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 only options I have are a four fingered shuffle and an aging vibrator whose batteries, the last time I looked, were leaking a sticky liquid. I long to do the same.” Time Was by Paul Adams

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.

This was my love, her love --torn, damaged, broken, ripped apart and put back together. This was our tattered love.

There are no guarantees with love,’ her father said, reading her mind. ‘You can’t hold some of it back, like a deposit, so you can get your money back if something goes wrong. You have to give yourself wholeheartedly, whatever the cost.

They did it quite a lot after that first encounter" ... when Jill remembers first meeting the dashing Baron.

The parasail's winch turned, winding up the line, pulling Ally and Serena lower and closer to him in a steady pull. A funny feeling seized him as he watched her. Logically, he knew she kept getting closer, but he suddenly knew she’d never arrive. She’d be suspended out on the end of that line for eternity, seemingly within reach, yet somehow distant. His breath stopped.