Love Quotes - Page 28

I find I'm unable to speak, unable to move, snared in his serious gaze like some kind of frightened rabbit

You don't get to choose," Lincoln said. "It's just happening.

Have you ever loved someone so much, you felt like your heart was going to just beat right out of your chest?

Crissi Langwell

This was crazy. He ate humans for breakfast. Not tomention he was older than Father Time. So why was Ifalling for him, falling for him when I couldn’t help butpush everyone else away? It frightened me to feel thisway, yet I couldn’t stop this and didn’t want to.

TIL KINGDOM COME you'll be the one. FOR YOU theres NO MORE KEEPING MY FEET ON THE GROUND. My head is in the clouds NOW MY FEET WONT TOUCH THE GROUND. LIFE IS FOR LIVING and i cant live until i have stolen a spot in your heart. HURTS LIKE HEAVEN and feels like hell to know your in ANOTHERS ARMS. This is no PARADISE. DONT LET IT BREAK YOU HEART i tell my self. Your BEAUTIFUL WORDS always IN MY HEAD i cant stop my self. THINGS I DONT UNDERSTAND would be you and me. LOST in your X&Y. I feel like i was SWALLOWED IN THE SEA, LOST and unseen, not a WISPER or a weep. I cry in my sleep, EVERY TEARDROP IS A WATERFALL. Should have seen the WARNING SIGNS, they were always there like a WISPER in my ear. Every time you say hello were back at SQUARE ONE, a smile my face. SUCH A RUSH i get when i talk to you. My heart beats as fast as a HIGH SPEED race. Every second i wait for your reply like CLOCK ticking by. DAYLIGHT nears as the SLEEPING SUN is UP IN FLAMES. What if its US AGAINST THE WORLD? What if HOW YOU SEE THE WORLD is how i see it too? WHAT IF?

I've come to realize that you can fight a lot of things in life, but you can't help who you love. You can't change who your heart chooses. I'm afraid that very fact will be the greatest tragedy of my life.

Sarah Jio

The most beautiful heart of all is the one that can still love even while it bleeds, and especially after its been broken into thousands of pieces

Sherrilyn Kenyon

It’s hard to find words to explain why you love someone, they don’t make words with that much passion. And even if they did, there isn’t a perfect combination of syllables and sounds to create a word strong enough to explain love. Love is just a filler word, a useless word that tries to do a job that no word can.

Heartache makesfor good poetry,heartburnnot so much.

S. Tarr

I thought all I had to do to get you back was kill off your so-called mother and that little girl. No, I also pondered eating you alive. I imagined drinking all your blood and swallowing you whole many times. A thousand times...no, a million times over the past few days! I couldn't even tell apart my dreams from reality. Why are you so obsessed with your piece of shit family? They abandoned you! Why must you only desire the things I can't give you, huh?! If you have any love left to go around, then don't give it to those worthless people. Give it to me! Give me everything. I want it all, even the last speck of dust lying at the bottom of your heart! Give me everything before I lose my mind! Before I really do drink your blood and eat your flesh! Before I swallow you whole!

Hajin Yoo

The beating of my heart stops when your gone, my heart herts when your voise is not speaking. This proves my love for you so never leave me.

Desperately and immediately, he wanted them to be happy. May they be deeply in love, forever and ever, ex cetera, amen. At least if it was true love then the choking feeling in Axton's throat wouldn't be in vain. He could lose out to a grand and staggering love. His pain would be worth it if their love was the kind that time itself would stand still for, the type that made angels weep.

This isn't goodbye, okay. There are no goodbyes... not between us.

We have found each other for a reason to fill each other’s empty heart in every season!

Lily Amis

It took me a long time and a lot of heartache to realize that just because you love someone, doesn’t mean they deserve it.

The virus seemed to be thriving on his misery, relentlessly tearing through his insides.Every day it made its rounds through his body. It started at his fingers, making them itch to touch her until he could almost feel her fleshy lips beneath his thumb, the silky strands of her hair sliding through his fingers. It would then move up to his arms, creating an urge to hold her, an urge that could not be fulfilled.Next it went for his eyes, causing him to see her everywhere, in every little thing. He would see her in the kitchen, making coffee. He would see her cuddled up on the sofa, watching T.V. He had to blink several times before he realised that she wasn’t really there. It would then move to his heart, ruthlessly choking it until it was so heavy and so sore, he could feel the pain of losing her in every beat.And then, finally, just as night fell, it would attack his brain, invoking images of her.Thoughts and memories and dreams. He could not take much more. It was slowly driving him insane. He could not break out of these shackles.

Jacqueline Francis - The Journal

I hoped with every ounce of my being that he would have the pleasure of knowing love and heartache in the way that I did. It might sound strange me wanting my five-year-old son to experience heartache, but without it I wouldn't have met his mother - a wonderful woman who taught me just how uncomplicated falling in love can be when it is with the right person, as well as highlighting the notion that timing is everything. If I had met her earlier in life I've no doubt that I'd have made a complete mess of the whole thing. I wouldn't have been ready to receive her love or to give the love I'd spent year accumulating.

Giovanna Fletcher

Raw love, like raw heart-ache, could blindside you.

I can hear our hearts breaking."A tear wets my fingertips, his tears, and his other hand encases my face, the way mine does him. His lips nearly skim mine. "I’ll shield your ears from the sound of heartbreak.

Therefore, have done with this nonsense: you have no ground for hope: dismiss, at once, these hurtful thoughts and foolish wishes from your mind, and turn to your own duty, and the dull blank life that lies before you. You might have known such happiness was not for you.

He felt himself now, as he had often fancied other people, adrift on the stream, and far removed from control of it, a man with no grasp upon circumstances any longer. Old battered man loafing at the doors of public-houses now seemed to be his fellows, and he felt, as he supposed them to feel, a mingling of envy and hatred towards those who passed quickly and certainly to a goal of their own. They, too, saw things very thin and shadowy, and were wafted about by the lightest breath of wind. For the substantial world, with its prospect of avenues leading on and on to the invisible distance, had slipped from him.

A heartfire, Clementine my darlin', is when you want someone, when you need her so damn bad, not only in your bed but in your life, that you're willin' to burn--".

Penelope Williamson

It's over, her mind whispered. There's still hope, her heart insisted.

What a selfish boy you are. You wished for the world but all you received were the skies.

Experience has taught me that what you love, you should love all the harder because someday it will be gone.

But the years came and went without bringing the careless boy; and when they met again Wendy was a married woman, and Peter was no more to her than a little dust in the box in which she had kept her toys.

I know who you are. I love you. I love everything about you that hurts.

It is becoming a bad dream-- in the daytime as well as at night. I see him nearly all the time and can't get at him, I mustn't show anything, must remain gay while I'm really in despair.

I believe on you, rest of things doesn't matter. Take a deep breath, take your time. Time has gone, time will come.Time will be yours if you believe on yourself.

It was our passion for words and our ardent desire to write that drew me and Michael together, and the same that drove us apart.Michael wanted to be a great playwright, like the former master Molière. He had high ambitions and scorned what I wrote as frivolous and feminine.‘All these disguises and duels and abductions,’ he said contemptuously, one day a year or so after our affair began, slapping down the pile of paper covered with my sprawling handwriting. ‘All these desperate love affairs. And you wish me to take you seriously.’‘I like disguises and duels.’ I sat bolt upright on the edge of my bed. ‘Better than those dreary boring plays you write. At least something happens in my stories.’‘At least my plays are about something.’‘My stories are about something too. Just because they aren’t boring doesn’t mean they aren’t worthy.’‘What are they about? Love’ He clasped his hands together near his ear and fluttered his eyelashes.’‘Yes, love. What’s wrong with writing about love? Everyone longs for love.’‘Aren’t there enough love stories in the world without adding to them?‘Isn’t there enough misery and tragedy?’Michael snorted with contempt.‘What’s wrong with wanting to be happy?‘It’s sugary and sentimental.’‘Sugary? I’m not sugary.’ I was so angry that I hurled my shoes at his head.

Hammer does not think he will make it through this next winter. His breath comes short in his chest, and it takes much effort for him to get up and dressed. My body is still creaky and sound, but with every labor of his breath, I think that my heart will not endure. Enduring were Hammer’s gift, not mine, and I will not endure a life in which he does not laugh by my side and touch my hand, wish for the best things for me, and rejoice when I have them. My sturdy, blessed, stoic Hammer—how can life be, without him?

Amy Lane

If you cannot see the fineness in my Hammer, you'd best look at him with better eyes.

Amy Lane

Hammer", I finished lamely, as he waited patiently for my thoughts to find their voice, "we have got to find better words for the things we have in our hearts.""Words seem to be weak things," he murmured into my hair, and I could only hope our hearts would prove stronger.

Amy Lane

I know these are only dreams. I know these days are long past. I wake to a dream in which Hammer’s breath has stopped, and mine with it, and hearts have gone to a quiet sunny meadow with the sweetest little cottage in the middle, with a millwheel and a stream. Our bodies will lie tangled until they become earth, like roses twining so closely there is no beginning and no end, and only the shades of beauty that were their growing.Every dream I ever had as a child has come true, simply because Hammer loved me. Perhaps this one will too.

Amy Lane

I'm not a princess but Ryan is a knight, he just belongs to someone else.

He was furious with himself for having lived these last days on a wish. On a lie. A kiss does not make the future. Love alone does not make a life.

And I think I decided not to love Charlie because I thought I had to be rescued. For practical reasons but also as a proof of love. It's better that Charlie and I didn't make an automatic transaction, love exchanged for rescue. All you can do after that is put the love and the rescue up on the shelf, moving them farther and farther back as you make room for all the other items you acquire over the years. This way a ragged stem still grows between us, almost pretty. Though really we should crush it now, before the buds bloom skeletal.

Don't be afraid to grow up, Peter. It's only a trap if you forget how to fly.

Jorge Enrique Ponce

Not all who are lost are lost forever.

Jorge Enrique Ponce

Come sit, dear," the old woman said. "We were just discussing kelpies and changelings."I turned a delightfully amused face at Ronan, hoping to see him embarrassed to be caught in a world of fantasy, but his face was impassive, completely unperturbed. Those were the hardest boys to ignore: the ones that weren't concerned with your opinion of them, not afraid to be caught listening to fairytales.

It dawned on her as she grew older, that fairy tales instilled false hopes in people, and that no white knights existed in this world. The mothers should be well aware of that aspect of reality, so why they fed their daughters with the same crap for centuries baffled her.

Alexis Lawrence

The way I see it, everyone’s been telling the story wrong. I mean, take Cinderella, for example. She never asked for a Prince, let alone waited around for one. Hell, all she ever wanted was a night off from work and a fancy dress to twirl in for a few hours. It’s never made sense to me that I’m supposed to sit around pining for some mythical Prince Charming to get off his ass and rescue me. If that’s the grand game plan, I could end up waiting forever. Because, I mean, if he’s anything like the rest of the male population, the prince is probably stuck in traffic somewhere, or got lost along the way and is too damn stubborn to ask for directions.

Don’t look for permanent love. You will be disappointed. It is found only in novels, fairy-tales, and films.

I will tell you, too, that every fairy tale has a moral. The moral of my story may be that love is a constraint, as strong as any belt. And this is certainly true, which makes it a good moral. Or it may be that we are all constrained in some way, either in our bodies, or in our hearts or minds, an Empress as well as the woman who does her laundry. ... Perhaps it is that a shoemaker's daughter can bear restraint less easily than an aristocrat, that what he can bear for three years she can endure only for three days. ... Or perhaps my moral is that our desire for freedom is stronger than love or pity. That is a wicked moral, or so the Church has taught us. But I do not know which moral is the correct one. And that is also the way of a fairy tale.

Share your love, share your happiness; you will be rich and a great success.

Debasish Mridha

I love you, Althea—you are so beautiful,” murmured the young man into my ear.Well, I was willing enough. I looked up at him from under my eyelashes. “I love you too,” I confessed. I averted my gaze and added privately, “You are so rich.”Unfortunately, I apparently said this aloud, if just barely, and his hearing was sharper than one would expect, given his other attributes.

When you have two people who love each other, are happy and gay and really good work is being done by one or both of them, people are drawn to them as surely as migrating birds are drawn at night to a powerful beacon. If the two people were as solidly constructed as the beacon there would be little damage except to the birds. Those who attract people by their happiness and their performance are usually inexperienced. They do not know how not to be overrun and how to go away. They do not always learn about the good, the attractive, the charming, the soon-beloved, the generous, the understanding rich who have no bad qualities and who give each day the quality of a festival and who, when they have passed and taken the nourishment they needed, leave everything deader than the roots of any grass Attila's horses' hooves have ever scoured.

Ernest Hemingway

It is better to live rich than to die rich.

When one good thing happened to you, other good things seemed to follow.

Candace Bushnell

But that was the problem with New York: No matter how succesful you thought you were, there was always someone who was richer, more successful, more famous.. The idea of it was sometimes enough to make you want to give up.

Candace Bushnell

That was the wonderful thing about New York: Years of bad blood could be wiped out with a single gesture of friendliness.

Candace Bushnell

Beware what you consume, lest you appetite grow by what it feeds on.

Candace Bushnell

Love is like that. It's like a wildfire in my blood.

You are still the colour of my blood. You are my blood. When I look in the mirror it’s not my own face I see. Your body is twice. Once you once me. Can I be sure which is which?

Jeanette Winterson

The pain is what you make of it. You have to find something in it that yields. I understood my guiding imperative as: keep bleeding, but find some love in the blood.

My healthy blood was powerless to cure the sick blood of my beloved. That was beyond understanding. And so is death.

Erich Maria Remarque

All stories are love stories, and there are numerous kinds of love, from the love of a mother holding her child for the first time to the love of blood that drives a psychopath, so I will always write about love, but not necessarily romance. Let the saner people do that.

Still, for what Androma did to him, he should hate her, should want her dead.But seeing her before him, melting into rage and riot, her glowing grey eyes reflecting the electricity that swam around her swords...Godstars, she was magnificent, a creature that deserved to release her wrath on the world. It would be worth every drop of blood about to be shed to bring her to Cyprian's feet.

Don't be superior. Everyone drinks blood. Blood is a word that means alive. You can do without almost anything: arms, legs, teeth, hope. But you can't do without blood. Lose even a little and you grow slow and stupid and not yourself at all. We are all of us beautiful and complicated vessels for carrying blood the way a bottle carries wine. I suppose you think there's no blood in your roast beef? Life eats life. Blood makes you move, makes you blush, makes the pulse pound in your brow when you see your love walking across a street toward you, makes your very thoughts fly through your brain. Blood is everything and everything is blood.

Catherynne M. Valente

Love isn't a stock option, it's a donation. Like blood, you don't ask for it back. Just love. That is the return, knowing that you loved.

Jimvirle

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