Romance Quotes - Page 83

Beauty is irrelevant to human life, especially in a relationship. What you today perceive as beautiful and special, over time, becomes not so special. That’s how the human brain works. It is not beauty that keeps a relationship alive, it is attachment. Without attachment, a naked body is merely a lifeless sex toy.

Always carry what is beautiful in your heart.

Her face was very beautiful, he thought. He hadn't been sure before, but he was now. The mind that lived behind it made it beautiful, the same way that the flame inside a lantern makes the lantern beautiful.

He raised himself on his hands and looked at Irene's face: the nudity of that feminine body had risen into her face, the body had reabsorbed it, as nature reabsorbs forsaken gardens.

Jean-Paul Sartre

I write our names on the page.What of it, if the paper will be burned?I write our names in the sand.What of it, if the shore will be washed by waves?I write our names on trees that will be cutand benches that will be painted,but what of it?I will keep on writing our namesbecause in this world of ephemera, You and I are the only constant.

Our surroundings fade and we exist in unison, two people who once shared cups of coffee, unprecedentedly ourselves in a changing world.

Caroline George

DON'T SAY, DODo not say thingsYou think I want to hear.Instead,Say what you sincerely mean,And really intend to do.Do not think you are helping meBy occasionallyBeing here or there,If you really have no intentionOf holding my handAll the way through.Do not say you care for me,If you do not careWhenever I'm clearlyDown and blue.And do not want what's best For you,If you do not wish the bestFor me too.Do not calculate gifts or deedsOr your giving will never feelGenuinely true.Just say what you meanAnd mean what you say, And let's lay these down – As our love'sGolden rules.

Being friends is different from being lovers. It’s a sea change.

Barbara Delinsky

If you want to impress a lady, respect her, because respect is an impressive act itself

Nitin Yaduvanshi

Every woman feels. It just takes the right man to make things combust.

Barbara Delinsky

But trust me, men are never worth it. Behind every great man is a woman who gave up on greatness and tied herself into an apron. Romance is for saps, Abbie. You’re sharp and you’ve got pluck. Don’t waste it.

Jane, will you marry me?""Yes sir.""A poor blind man, whom you will have to lead about by the hand?""Yes, sir.""A crippled man, twenty years older older than you, whom you will have to wait on?""Yes, sir.""Truly, Jane?""Most truly, sir.

Charlotte Brontë

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.

He noticed that he felt calmer now she was here, still in that grey dress with her dowdy hat, the air around her redolent with orchid oil. Perhaps all women in England had this effect. Perhaps they all smelled of flowers and exuded a calm and measured purpose. He couldn’t remember.

She was shocked when she followed her aunt and cousin down into the city proper. The streets were crawling with people, all hurrying to and fro, mindless of one another. They brushed by with barely even a glance, stepping down into the busy roads between horse drawn buses and draymen’s carts with such confidence, seemingly oblivious that they could be run down at any moment. Children dodged in and out amongst them, ragamuffins all, some barefoot.

If there's one thing I know about women, it's that they have vaginas.

J. Richard Singleton

It has been said that Shakespeare, the great delineator of human character, has failed in distinguishing his principal women—and that such as he meant to be amiable are all equally gentle and good. How difficult then it is for a novelist to give to one of his heroines any very marked feature which shall not disfigure her! Too much reason and self-command destroy the interest we take in her distresses. It has been observed, that Clarissa is so equal to every trial as to diminish our pity. Other virtues than gentleness, pity, filial obedience, or faithful attachment, hardly belong to the sex.

Charlotte Turner Smith

He needed a stiff drink. With a side of straightjacket.

We are hell different but vanity keeps us stuck.

They may not know each other to say it, but it was never hidden. How much ever they hated each other, fate ties them together.

You resting your head tenderly on my shoulders while we sit below the old Oak tree. And we smile at each other and gaze lovingly at the fascinating sunset over the hills. This moment makes me feel completely alive as if we have reached not just cloud nine or ten but also cloud infinity!

Immeasurably, baby. I love you immeasurably.

I think she is marvelous. She is untouched by politics, unmarred and untainted. She is absolutely, brilliantly humble. Honest, hardworking. And it would be my honor that she accept to be my wife. Now if you’ll excuse me, I have a country to govern and a woman to woo.

I want to marry this girl. I want to marry her now.

He’s the president now, but he’s still Matt. My first crush, my first love. And I know that after Matt, I’ll never want or love another man again.

I am in love with the first lady of the United States. At the moment, a dozen vans from District florists are pulling up at the White House, and the staffers are helping me fill up her room. I’m going to ask her to marry me. Today.

She is the one relentless, constant thought in my head and tug in my damn chest. The only she that has ever existed in my life.

Ladies and gentlemen, the President of the United States . . .

You’re . . . their absolute fantasy. Of course I’m jealous. You’re their fantasy and mine.

You once said you might not mind being by the president’s side,” he says. My libido goes crazy under that smile. His words husky, seducing me. The proximity of his mouth to my earlobe making my heart go haywire.“That was before,” I whisper worriedly.He captures my gaze with his powerful one. “Before you fell in love with me, or after?

Florence, listen to me carefully. He squeezed her hand. Take whatever that agent offers you. Give him what he wants, and don’t ask too many questions. Get yourself an exit visa as soon as you can. Then leave! Disappear. Forget this wretched place

From the moment Julian entered the world, Florence had begun to conceive of life as separate from the aspects of its outward circumstances. Over and over, life renewed itself. Over and over, it made itself blind to the death and destruction of the past

Their courtship unfolded in two settings, a Russian reality overlaid with New York memories

Was it an instinct towards their future life together that she was already sensing, which made her pull back? For what she was seeing suddenly, in her mind’s eye, was an image of the two of them dancing on the edge of the world, not realising that they were about to fall off

Only then, as she prepared to cross the avenue, did she again spot the man in the fedora hat. He was at the opposite side of the street from where he’d stood before, but the caramel color of his coat was unmistakable. He was loitering in front of what looked like a Ford V8 parked nose-up on the sidewalk. Florence adjusted her shawl over her shoulders and crossed to the opposite corner of the plaza. When she turned back to look again, he was gone

Florence could feel a constriction in her chest…She had been foolish enough to hope that whatever she was walking into would affect no one but herself. Now the truth was catching up with her at the speed of her galloping heartbeat…Now they had summoned her. And they knew everything

Florence imagined the Hammer and Sickle metallurgical plant to be an enormous brick factory like the ones in New York. But as she approached she saw it was in fact a small city of its own

A Red Riding Hood out of her depths in the woods of socialism

She was arriving at a revelation that the secret to living was simply forgetting

The Bolshevik leaders perched atop the Mausoleum were no easier to tell apart than chess pawns. But Florence too was certain that she could recognise the twinkling eyes of Joseph Stalin, which looked down at her each workday from the oil painting above Timofeyev’s desk

Sunset was just then settling over Red Square. There seemed some hidden vision to be gleaned. A message about man’s chaotic spirit and his sombre dignity. His dignity and his power. His power and his purpose. She was sure that there was some thread there, but the burden of decoding it made her feel too tired

Moscow appeared to her as an Asiatic sprawl of twisting streets, wooden shanties, and horse cabs. But already another Moscow was rising up through the chaos of the first. Streets built to accommodate donkey tracks have been torn open and replaced with boulevards broader than two or three Park Avenues. On the sidewalks, pedestrians were being detoured onto planks around enormous construction pits. A smell of sawdust and metal filings hung in the air

Sergey described the mighty furnaces and plants rising up from the steppes. “How far we’ve come. How much work there is still to do!” She would have to see it herself one day, with her own eyes. Florence reread the last line with a turbulent flip in her stomach. Was this an invitation?

Our communists aren’t like your communists. In New York they’re always on the street demonstrating, but their demands are absurd. Slash rents! Free groceries and electricity for the poor! They demand that landlords open up their vacant apartments to house the unemployed. They even demand that the Communist Party distribute unemployment relief instead of the Labor Department. They might as well demand cake and champagne!

I like being an exhibitionist with you. Besides, you can't say we don't have the climate for it.” “I don't know, I'd say there's the potential for sunburn in truly terrible places.” “This is true,” Jay said gravely. “In all cases of uncontrollable lust, safety first. Seek shade, apply sunscreen, and only then can you fornicate wildly.

Right, times up,” Annie declared as she not so graciously stood from the table. “On to Hot Steppers, where naked men are waiting to grind upon thy lap. Come along my trusty wenches!

You ask me why I write. You might as well ask me why I breathe. I need oxygen to feed my body and ink to feed my soul.

And she gave him a melting smile, the glutinous sweetness of which he devoured with the avidity of a diabetic who swallows a fatal spoonful of jam.

Love is like chickenpox. It's much worse when it comes late.

If Porter crawled into bed with me, I wouldn’t flee the scene right away. I probably wouldn’t even kick him out. I might kick him in the gonads and then rub my cheek against his chest because that’s the kind of girl I am. Beat them and then treat them.

Taking good care of your husband or wife is the best way to thank their parent or parents for having taken good care of them.

Mokokoma Mokhonoana

Some women have kissed—and some are kissing—a lot of frogs, even though the very first man that they have each kissed was and is still a prince.

Mokokoma Mokhonoana

Absence doesn't make the heart grow fonder. Absence makes the bloody penis wander. ~ Heartbreak's A Bitch!

i { } you more than {(({ }))}

Alys," he exclaims happily. "I think this might work out. You're going to be excellent in getting rid of unwanted visitors.""I'm not a fucking Rottweiler," I say indignantly.

His words reminded me of something else I’d meant to bring up when he got back to town, something that had taken a very low priority. “Your coat—you never took it back after the wedding. It’s in my car.”He waved dismissively “Keep it. I’ve got others.”“What am I going to do with a wool coat?” I asked. “Especially here in Palm Springs?”“Sleep with it,” he suggested. “Think of me.”I put my hands on my hips and tried to stare him down, which wasn’t easy since he was so tall. That, and because his words suddenly returned me to the disorienting feeling I’d had sitting on his bed. “You said you weren’t going to bring up any romantic stuff around me.”“Was that romantic?” he asked. “I was just making the suggestion, since the coat’s so heavy and warm. I figured you’d think of me since it was such a nice gesture. And yet, once again, you’re the one who finds romantic subtext in everything I say.”“I do not. You know that’s not what I meant.”He shook his head in mock sympathy. “I tell you, Sage. Sometimes I think I’m the one who needs to take out the restraining order on you.”“Adrian!

Richelle Meadelle

It’s so nice to see you again,” he said. He spoke as though it had been a while, and I nodded in agreement. As I’d assured Stanton, Adrian knew too much familiarity between us might create a trail back to Jill. “Did I just hear you two talking about building good relationships?”I was tongue-tied, so Ian answered. “That’s right. We’re here to make things friendlier between our people.” His voice, however, was most decidedly unfriendly.Adrian nodded with all seriousness, like he hadn’t noticed Ian’s hostility. “I think it’s a great idea. And I thought of something that would be an excellent gesture of our future together.” Adrian’s expression was innocent, but there was a mischievous sparkle in his eye that I “knew all too well. He held out his hand to me. “Would you like to dance?

He then, with great presence of mind, put a stop to any further recriminations by kissing her; and his indignant betrothed, apparently feeling that he was too deeply sunk in depravity to be reclaimable, abandoned (for the time being, at all events) any further attempt to bring him to a sense of his iniquity.

Georgette Heyer

He cleared his throat. “You need to pick a safe word.”“What on earth is a safe word?”He smothered a sigh. This was proving to be more work than he thought it’d be. “It’s a word you use when you want things to stop.”“How about I use the word ‘stop’?” She sounded sarcastic.“That’s not how it works. You need a word that you wouldn’t normally use during sex.”“Fine. How about ‘dumbass’?”“I don’t think you’re getting into the spirit of this.”“Really? You think?”“Fine. Dumbass it is.” There was no dealing with her when she was in this mood. “If you use your safe word, everything stops.”“Good.” She took a deep breath. “Dumbass,” she shouted.Andrew wasn’t sure what to do next. This was not going the way it did in the books.

Janet Elizabeth Henderson

This is two romantic things in a row, so I figure I should praise him accordingly, because the boy responds well to positive reinforcement.

Jenny Han

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