Best 202 quotes in «young love quotes» category

The drugs took over and she fell asleep then. Only her face was visible, the medical equipment acting as some hideous hijab for her.

The feelings that still linger, decade after decade, aren’t just the residue of a love lost. They are as real as the first day I told her I loved her." ~Corbin Jones, Voice of Innocence

The fire within her, and her soul, were eclipsing my own.

The Florida School for the Deaf and Blind fits right in among St. Augustine’s stately bearded oaks and rock coral walls, looking more like a college campus than anything else. It’s the largest facility of its kind in the world. Because stomping on cement hurts, deaf students cup one hand against the wall and bark a short hoh to get each other’s attention from a distance. The sound echoes up and down the halls and kids stop to see if it’s them being hailed. Deaf couples stretch the boy’s T-shirt forward, dip their faces into the neck, and sign inside for privacy. Their faces almost touch. Fabric ripples with hidden movements. Watching them, my inner adolescent feels a twinge of jealousy.

The French poet Mallarmé claimed that “everything in the world exists to end up in a book,” and if that’s true, and that even every boy is a book, Federico was undoubtedly created by the pen of Keats or some other tormented Romantic poet; while Matteo was pure passion, like Shakespeare’s Romeo: spontaneous, intense, and impetuously real.

The only place Aletta and I could be together unseen was just under the rafters in the church tower, a circumstance that propelled us into an earlier intimacy than what we would have known had we been permitted to walk together Sunday afternoons under the wide sky.

Theo cast his emerald eyes back to the girl at the order window. He could hardly breathe. Her radiance was as inescapable as the sun. Love is never stronger than the love in the young. There, love is unreasonable and preposterous and beautiful. Theo did not realize it at the time, but his young self was dying inside to the man he would become.

Then he walked home thinking he'd given Clarisse Haines her first kiss and thinking it would far from suck if he was also the guy who gave her her last and no one in between

The spiritual and the physical had been blended in us with a perfection that must remain incomprehensible to the matter-of-fact, crude, standard-brained youngsters of today. Long after her death I felt her thoughts floating through mine. Long before we met we had had the same dreams.

There are people in my life who count more than playing soccer in Serie A

There is nothing like young love. It comes at a time before the heart knows to protect itself, when everything important is raw and exposed—the perfect environment for a soul-sucking, heart-crushing burst.

The truth is, I don't know how to talk to Sam. When he first arrived here, I was too starstruck to relax around him, and as the summer went on, I censored myself more than I would like to admit, always trying to say the right thing to get him to notice me, avoiding anything that would make him shut down.

They loved deeply in those early years, as it is common for young lovers to do.

They say some couples are joined in heaven, and on Earth they look for their partner soul to be with. I knew I had found mine in her. And who can fight heaven?

Think of that person you knew when you were a kid, who you always thought you could have loved completely and forever.Well, you could have. It’s the truth, and it’s the saddest and simplest thing. There isn’t just one person for each of us in the world. There aren’t many, but there are always a few people we could have made it with, that maybe we still want to make it with, that press themselves so close to our hearts they leave scars, and then slip through our fingers and disappear from our lives. And it doesn’t make a difference if you’re thirteen or ninety- eight because some things you feel are real, no matter when.

They will bloom when they're ready.

This unrequited love business was driving him crazy. It was a feeling that took you over, mind, body, and soul. Worse than a drug that tore apart your flesh and spirit, and without which you simply could not live.

This is the hour I hide everything Behind my eyes To see if you can see All the trouble my brain's been brewing. Yes, I feel I am the worst and you are the best And yet, and yet, Nothing bad unfolds as we sit, Young and nervous, Alive and bursting, With futures that may not entwine. Who am I? Who am I to sabotage what may be too small For even chaos to notice And disassemble?

To The Lilies among Thistles, Just like a lily, a beautiful life does not just happen overnight. It is built daily through informed choices, commitment, faith and prayer. The journey towards becoming A Proverbs 31 Lady cannot therefore be taken lightly. It is a difficult, challenging journey filled with both laughter and tears, but a fulfilling one as you will soon find out. If you commit to becoming this woman just one day at a time, it will change not just your relationships but also your whole life.Consider it as a challenge, from one virtuous woman to the other.

Underneath my lashes I watched him, and I thought,Come back. Be the you I love and remember

We had been younger. Yup, you can grow a lot in the blink of an eye.

Watching them was like watching the sunset and the sunrise, equally beautiful in different ways.

We have to think of a question that we wouldn't otherwise want to answer.' He stood over the pot, looking down at the leaves. 'Something like, Who do you fancy?' 'That might work,' I said, even though it was the last question I wanted to answer. But it was impossible, suddenly, to tell a lie. Benjamin took a deep sniff over the steam and turned to me. 'All right,' he said. 'So who do you fancy?' I hesitated. 'Fancy means like, right?' I said stalling. 'Of course.' I gritted my teeth against the answer coming out. but I couldn't stop myself. 'You,' I said helplessly.

We loved each other with a premature love, marked by a fierceness that so often destroys adult lives. I was a strong lad and survived; but the poison was in the wound, and the wound remained ever open

We're all like paper dolls. Happiest when linked to another, often unaware of our flimsiness. So easily torn.

We don't unfold ourselves like pieces of paper for everyone to see: that's not how humans work. There are always parts of us we shut away or hide. Bits of ourselves we can't touch because they're too precious and buried too deep. Fragments of truth we barely admit to ourselves. Because sometimes editing our own story is the only way to get through it.

We weren’t old and lame and interested in companionship; that’s only functional at a certain age for child rearing or to make sure you don’t die alone. Dating was fucking.

What did I think I was doing? What did she think she was doing? When I want to kiss people in that way now, with mouths and tongues and all that, it's because I want other things too: sex, Friday nights at the cinema, company and conversation, fused networks of family and friends, Lemsips brought to me in bed when I am ill, a new pair of ears for my records and CDs, maybe a little boy called Jack and a little girl called Holly or Maisie, I haven't decided yet. But I didn't want any of those things from Alison Ashworth. Not children, because we were children, and not Friday nights at the pictures, because we went Saturday mornings, and not Lemsips, because my mum did that, not even sex, especially not sex, please God not sex, the filthiest and most terrifying invention of the early seventies.

What’re you doing?” I threw my arms around his neck, securing myself to him. “I’m carrying you home,” he said firmly, his voice shaken. “But it’s two more blocks. You can’t carry me that far,” I argued. “I can and I will,” he insisted. “Let me help you Beth, please.” Instantly I relaxed into his arms. It may have been my lack of options, or that I felt weak in the knees every time he said my name; either way, I didn’t argue. I knew I was safe with him.

When did you first fall in love?" "I think, I first fell in love when I was in fifth grade with this boy who kept his glass ruler in the sunlight and made rainbows on my desk with it.

When you touch a man's body, he will enjoy the moment, when you touch a man's heart he will remember it forever.

While they were dancing, the buoyancy that the champagne had given her left her all at once, and she slumped and felt suddenly tired and miserable about all the things that Denys should have said and done and hadn't. At the end of the dance there was one awful moment when she was bored. She didn't want to go and be kissed in the garden, she didn't want to drink any more, and Denys was in no mood for conversation; what was there to do? She was bored. It was a terrible, treacherous thought to feel like that when you were with someone you loved.

Who’s it?” said Conor Larkin, appearing in the adjoining balcony, followed by Ricky and Jason. “The Turtle from the Train Station,” said Guy. Right, I thought, that’s the impression I made. He remembers me as an honorary member of the reptile family.

Will I be some kid’s dad one day? Are any future people lurking deep inside mine?...Which girl’s carrying the other half of my kid, deep in those intricate loops? What’s she doing right now? What’s her name?

There was never a time when she felt herself falling. It wasn’t until she crashed, heart first and head last, that she realized she had fallen at all.

You don't have to, Henry. In here, I think my dream is big enough for the both of us.

Without knowing why or how, I found myself in love with this strange Wanderess. Maybe I was just in love with the dream she was selling me: a life of destiny and fate; as my own life up until we met had been so void of enchantment. Those things: mystery, fate, enchantment... they are things that young people offer us as soon as we get close to them. And if we're not careful, we can be seduced by, and drawn back into, the youthful world they preside over.

Would you like me to go take that violin for you? I'd gladly fight whatever angry mob rises up if it might make you smile.

You know what the secret to a happy life is?" "No regrets. Just live in the moment.

You have a very distinct presence.' 'Distinct.' 'Palpable,' Neal said. Georgie tried not to smile. "Is that a compliment?' 'I don't know, do you want it to be?' 'Do I want people to know when I walk into a room?' 'Do you want me to know?' 'I--' Neal glanced up over her shoulder then looked back down. 'Your boyfriend needs you.

Young love-making--that gossamer web! Even the points it clings to--the things whence its subtle interlacing are swung--are scarcely perceptible; momentary touches of finger-tips, meetings of rays from blue and dark orbs, unfinished phrases, lightest changes of cheek and lip, faintest tremors. The web itself is made of spontaneous beliefs and indefinable joys, yearnings of one life to another, visions of completeness, indefinite trust.

Your soul can’t inhabit another person’s body.

You’re thinking, maybe it would be easier to let it slip let it go say ”I give up” one last time and give him a sad smile. You’re thinking it shouldn’t be this hard, shouldn’t be this dark, thinking love could flow easily with no holding back and you’ve seen others find their match and build something great together, of each other, like two halves fitting perfectly and now they achieve great things one by one, always together, and it seems grand. But you love him. Love him like a black stone in your chest you couldn’t live without because it fits in there. Makes you who you are and the thought of him gone—no more—makes your chest tighten up and maybe this is your fairytale. Maybe this is your castle. You could get it all on a shiny piece of glass with wooden stools and a neverending blooming garden but that’s not yours. This is yours. The cracks and the faults, the ugly words in the winter walking home alone and angry but falling asleep thinking you love him. This is your fairy tale. The quiet in the hallway, wishing for him to turn around, tell you to stay, tell you to please don’t go I need you like you need me and maybe it’s not a Jane Austen novel but this is your novel and your castle and you can run from it your whole life but this is here in front of you. Maybe nurture it? Sweet girl, maybe close the world off and look at him for an hour or two. This is your fairy. It ain’t perfect and it ain’t honey sweet with roses on the bed. It’s real and raw and ugly at times. But this is your love. Don’t throw it away searching for someone else’s love. Don’t be greedy. Instead, shelter it. Protect it. Capture every second of easy, pull through every storm of hardship. And when you can, look at him, lying next to you, trusting you not to harm him. Trusting you not to go. Be someone’s someone for someone. Be that someone for him. That’s your fairy tale. This is your castle. Now move in. Build a home. Build a house. Build a safety around things you love. It’s yours if you make it so. Welcome home, sweet girl, it will be all be fine.

Ah, youth! It was a beautiful night... The moon was out of orbit. The stars were awry. But everything else was exactly as it should have been.

You said my name and my heart went rogue

You two are bound to one another. You always have been … and you can't run away from what you are. No matter where you go, your feelings for her are going to follow you.

You walked into my life when I was nineteen years old. You were the only man I ever loved - the only man I ever hope to love. You took everything we did together, everything we were to each other, and scorched it to nothing: left it a cloud of ash.

When I first met him, he was everything I wanted to be, but over time, he showed me how I wanted to be myself, and that was how I fell in love with him.

Adam stared down at me, his expression thunderous. “It was you. I know it was you.” My head was rocking side to side before I could stop it. “No.” I wrenched my hand free of his. “You’re wrong.” “I’m not!” Anger blazed hot behind his eyes as they burned into me. “Look at me, Kia! Look me in the eye and tell me you’re not her.

And then Luke had appeared, like a gust that had come to teach me that in life, there was nothing more precious than life itself.