Lovers's Famous Quotes & Sayings
100 Lovers's Famous Sayings, Quotes and Quotation.
To make themselves feel better, my patrons would make presents of money or jewellery, but I found a much more valuable form of payment." Secrets, I think. That's what Finnick told me his lovers paid him in, only I thought the whole arrangement was by his choice. "Secrets," he says, echoing my thoughts. "And this is where you're going to want to stay tuned, President Snow, because so very many of them were about you. But let's begin with some of the others.— Suzanne Collins
Like many science fiction lovers of my generation, I discovered Andre Norton on the shelves at the junior high's library.— Sherwood Smith
In Milly Barranger, Margaret Webster has found the perfect biographer. In Margaret Webster, Milly Barranger has found her perfect subject. She brings to vivid life a fascinating and important theater figure whose public and private lives were of equal interest. In this carefully researched book, Webster's colleagues, lovers, and friends shine as brightly as she did. I wish she were here to read it.— Marian Seldes
Everything and everyone has a place to be, Echo. It's just a matter of how they get there and when. You have a place; you just have to find it.— Nadege Richards
The world's definitions are one thing and the life one actually lives is quite another. One cannot allow oneself, nor one's family, friends, or lovers - to say nothing of one's children - to live according to the world's definitions: one must find a way, perpetually, to be stronger and better than that.— James A. Baldwin
One trait in the philosopher's character we can assume is his love of the knowledge that reveals eternal reality, the realm unaffected by change and decay. He is in love with the whole of that reality, and will not willingly be deprived even of the most insignificant fragment of it - just like the lovers and men of ambition we described earlier on.— Plato
Because I know if I sit down and start to write out how it feels ... . it all becomes too real ... the pain becomes too much. But that's the weird part because I feel so empty, like there no longer is a heart living where there used to be one, so why am I feeling pain?— Chriselle Ravadilla
He had often suspected that the young carriage driver had a particular affection for him. He had even wanted to indulge it on occasion, but was unsure if that would be improper. To make love to someone else's help seemed perfectly acceptable, but to make love to your own help seemed a mite graceless, as though you couldn't find lovers outside your immediate household.— Lev A.C. Rosen
That's when I finally got it. I finally understood. It wasn't the thought that counted. It was the actual execution that mattered, the showing up for somebody. The intent behind it wasn't enough. Not for me. Not anymore. It wasn't enough to know that deep down, he loved me. You had to actually say it to somebody, show them you cared. And he just didn't. Not enough.— Jenny Han
She(my love) said to me, what's the matter with you? ... I replied ... 'NOTHING— Anuj Kr. Thakur
There is no greater paradox in the cosmos," the deceased had written, "than the apparent contradiction of our helplessness ('without me, you can do nothing') alongside God's 'helplessness.' Oh, I know, God is all-powerful, and so on; but he cannot undo what he has done, and what he once did was to make men free. This means that he 'needs' us in order to get us to Heaven as his lovers, and in order to do his will in the world. All we have to do in order to frustrate those wishes - to render God 'helpless' - is to say No. But God is not helpless, really, because he has mercy - himself. And what mercy does is convert, change our hearts. Which God never stops trying to do until we are dead. This means continued suffering for him, which is what Christ is all about." Young— William F. Buckley Jr.
When Peeta holds out his arms, I walk straight into them. It's the first time since they announced the Quarter Quell that he's offered me any sort of affection. He's been more like a very demanding trainer, always pushing, always insisting Haymitch and I run faster, eat more, know our enemy better. Lovers? Forget about that. He abandoned any pretense of even being my friend. I wrap my arms tightly around his neck before he can order me to do push-ups or something. Instead he pulls me in close and buries his face in my hair. Warmth radiates from the spot where his lips just touch my neck, slowly spreading through the rest of me. It feels so good, so impossibly good, that I know I will not be the first to let go.— Suzanne Collins
And why should I?
Trains are relentless things, aren't they, Monsieur Poirot? People are murdered and die, but they go on just the same. I am talking nonsense, but you know what I mean."— Agatha Christie
"Yes, yes, I know. Life is like a train, Mademoiselle. It goes on. And it is a good thing that that is so."
"Why?"
"Because the train gets to its journey's end at last, and there is a proverb about that in your language, Mademoiselle."
"'Journey's end in lovers meeting.'" Lenox laughed. "That is not going to be true for me."
"Yes
yes, it is true. You are young, younger than you yourself know. Trust the train, Mademoiselle, for it is le bon Dieu who drives it."
The whistle of the engine came again.
"Trust the train, Mademoiselle," murmured Poirot again. "And trust Hercule Poirot. He knows.
Here are two enormous worlds side by side; what's remarkable is how little notice they have taken of each other. If the Western and Islamic worlds were two individual human beings, we might see symptoms of repression here. We might ask, What happened between these two? Were they lovers once? Is there some history of abuse?— Tamim Ansary
Offer it up personally,then. Right now. I thought of how many people go to their graves unforgiven and unforgiving. I thought of how many people have had siblings or friends or children or lovers disappear from their lives before precious words of clemency or absolution could be passed along. How do the survivors of terminated relationships ever endure the pain of unfinished business? From that place of meditation, I found the answer-you can finish the business yourself, from within yourself. It's not only possible, it's essential.— Elizabeth Gilbert
Hatred begins to emerge like love and it's not too far from love.— Auliq Ice
To forget everything - even happiness. Happiness! A casual tickling of someone or something against oneself - that's all. Would that we had never been lovers! For then, Maurice, you and I should have lain still and been quiet. We should have slept, then had we been at rest with kings and counsellors of the earth, which built desolate palaces for themselves - '— E. M. Forster
'What on earth are you talking about?
Love is all right, as things go, but lovers can be a terrible waste of a girl's time.— Anna Godbersen
In material things, there are seven wonders; in human beings there is only one wonder - and that's you.— Amit Kalantri
We are particularly frustrated that so much of our politics today consists of lines first written during the clashes, domestic and foreign, of the 1960s. This "Groundhog Day" approach to replaying the culture war's tropes is perhaps nowhere in greater evidence than in how Americans talk about patriotism. Patriotism, as an idea, has been co-opted over the course of a generation by right-wingers who use the flag not as a symbol of transcendent national unity, but as a sectarian cudgel against the hippies, Francophiles, free-lovers and tree-huggers who constitute their caricature of the American left. The American left, for its part, has been so beaten down by this star-spangled caricature that it has largely ceded the very notion of patriotism to the right. As a result, the first reaction of far too many progressives to any talk of patriotism is automatic, allergic recoil. Needless to say, this reaction simply tightens the screws of the right's imprisoning caricature.— Eric Liu
I pray, what flowers are these? The pansy this, O, that's for lover's thoughts.— George Chapman
And so to my fool's bed. What was that? No, no, not a girl crying in the garden. No one, cold, hungry, and banished, was shivering there, longing and not daring to come in. It was the chains swinging at the well. It would be folly to get up and go out and call again: Psyche, Psyche, my only love. I am a great queen. I have killed a man. I am drunk like a man. All warriors drink deep after the battle. Bardia's lips on my hand were like the touch of lightning. All great princes have mistresses and lovers. There's the crying again. No, it's only the buckets at the well. "Shut the window, Poobi. To your bed, child. Do you love me, Poobi? Kiss me good night. Good night." The king's dead. He'll never pull my hair again. A straight thrust and then a cut in the leg. That would have killed him. I am the Queen; I'll kill Orual too.— C.S. Lewis
We delight to praise what we enjoy because the praise not merely expresses but completes the enjoyment; it is its appointed consummation. It is not out of compliment that lovers keep on telling one another how beautiful they are; the delight is incomplete till it is expressed.— C.S. Lewis
We're smitten with technology. And we're afraid, like young lovers, that too much talking might spoil the romance. But it's time to talk.— Sherry Turkle
Love is the feeling we get when we recognize the positive attributes in another. You have to continually and actively watch for the best parts of someone else that will let you experience love. I like this definition of love because it's not just for the romantic lovers out there but the love of a friend, a mother, sibling - all kinds of love.— Michael Adam Hamilton
So lovers of life, don't keep your hopes up high.— Kirk Jones
Why? Cause it's just a matter of time before it's your turn to die.
But until then, when you stop breathin',
It's time to stand up and fight for what you believe in!
We are a generation of lovers who long to be loved. We spend exorbitant amounts of money to compel others to delight in us. We construct our ideal life on Facebook because we are unsatisfied with our real life, which is tainted with boredom, loneliness, insecurity, and a lack of friends and followers . We do not enjoy the person God created us to be or the life God has gifted us with. We think we are overweight, underweight, too pale, too dark, too plain, or just plain boring. Yet we crave to be delighted in by a significant other. So we pursue misguided avenues to make ourselves delightful, to satisfy our craving to be loved.— Preston Sprinkle
Charis: God's Scandalous Grace for Us (pp. 118-119).
I just can't do it anymore. It's too painful. It doesn't mean I'm over you, it means I'm not going to waste the rest of my life being haunted by your memory.— Ashleigh Z.
Why do we marry, why take friends and lovers? Why give ourselves to music, painting, chemistry or cooking? Out of simple delight in the resident goodness of creation, of course; but out of more than that, too. Half earth's gorgeousness lies hidden in the glimpsed city it longs to become.— Robert Farrar Capon
I remember one Fourth of July evening in Philadelphia, about a year after my surgery. I was walking home arm in arm with Lisa, my lover at the time, after the fireworks display. We were leaning in to one another, walking like lovers walk. Coming towards us was a family of five: mom, dad, and three teenage boys. "Look it's a coupla faggots," said one of the boys. "Nah, it's two girls," said another. "That's enough outa you," bellowed the father, "one of 'em's got to be a man. This is America!— Kate Bornstein
Some of us are darkness lovers. We do not dislike the early and late daylight of June, but we cherish the increasing dark of November, which we wrap around ourselves in the prosperous warmth of wood stove, oil and electric blanket. Inside our warmth we fold ourselves, partly tuber, partly bear, in the dark and its cold - around us, outside us, safely away from us. We tuck ourselves up in the comfort of cold's opposite, warming ourslves by thought of the cold, lighting ourselves by darkness's idea.— Donald Hall
So often we confuse mistakes for soul mates, lessons for— Akif Kichloo
lovers, and at the same time worthy life partners for one-night stands.
It's an epidemic.
It seems jolly on the page. But imagine poverty, violence, natural disasters, or political fear driving you away from everything you know. Imagine how bad things get to make you leave behind your family, your friends, your lovers; your home, as humble as it might be; your church, say. Let's take it further - you've said good-bye to the graveyard, the dog, the goat, the mountains where you hunted, your grade school, your state, your favorite spot on the river where you fished and took time to think.— Luis Alberto Urrea
Christopher Lynch has made the best and the first careful translation of Machiavelli's Art of War. With useful notes, an excellent introduction, an interpretive essay, glossary, and index, it is a treasure for readers of military history and Renaissance thought as well as for lovers of Machiavelli.— Harvey Mansfield
Our love douses us in flames. It's terrible and deep and wingless, but I'll burn here if you burn here too.— Nadege Richards
She puts her hands on either side of my face, and the room falls away. I have never gotten so lost in a kiss before.— Jodi Picoult
And then, the space between us explodes. My heart keeps missing beats and my hands cannot bring her close enough to me. I taste her and realize I have been starving.
I have loved before, but it didn't feel like this.
I have kissed before, but it didn't burn me alive.
Maybe it lasts a minute, and maybe it's an hour. All I know is that kiss, and how soft her skin is when it brushes against mine, and that even if I did not know it until now, I have been waiting for this person forever.
The elders say- difficult to prove- that winged creatures also dream. The birds are lovers of heights, always searching out landing spots, never constant here at the foot of the human race. 'It's that they discovered a magical advantage ... ' they say, 'the sound of silence.'— Ondjaki
At the foot of the clouds the raindrops come earlier, it's true, and the silence of the sky is something unattainable for those who don't fly- we have never experimented. The dream of the birds was that man of them headed for a land where they experienced a similar magic to that lived by them.
In the final analysis, music is the only human sound similar to that of silence.
And though he would give anything to let Ture in, he knew better. He'd been down this bloody path too many times. As soon as his lovers realized that they could never supplant Darling in his heart, they turned on him with a justified hatred. Maris couldn't help how he felt. Darling owned him. He always had. Even though they could and would never be anything more than best friends, Darling was his heart. He'd been there for Maris when no one else had. When the entire universe had slammed down on him and no one had cared, Darling, alone, had traversed hell itself to save Maris's life. He shuttered every time he thought of where he'd be without his noble prince. If he'd even be alive. Sighing, he lifted himself out of the water to sit on the edge of the pool while Ture continued swimming. Memories surged as he reached for a towel. Even now, he could see Darling the day they'd met as tiny kids on a playground. Because— Sherrilyn Kenyon
It is good that you exist and that we exist together." It's only when lovers recognize this depth dimension in each other that their love becomes hardy enough to outlast changes in their feelings or alterations in their qualities and attributes. What genuine lovers care about most is not simply whether the beloved can give him- or herself freely to them in return. True lovers who have attained the maturity of love are able to recognize that the beloved him- or herself is a gift,— Carl A. Anderson
He isn't the best, neither am I. But we are the best version of ourselves with each other. And that's pretty close to Perfection.— Jasleen Kaur Gumber
The want for that kiss had shocked him more than the interruption, and he fell back into the chair, cool and nonchalant as Quen came in with his questions and demands. He wasn't sure if he believed he'd really helped, but one thing was very clear. He wanted that again, that feeling of standing with her against all odds and succeeding. He wanted it so bad, he was going to risk destroying everything he and his father had worked for. He should walk away. Right now. But as she was ushered out the door under David's arm, all he wanted to do was follow her. What the hell was he doing, falling in love with a demon?— Kim Harrison
No white nor red was ever seen So am'rous as this lovely green. Fond lovers, cruel as their flame, Cut in these trees their mistress' name. Little, alas, they know or heed How far these beauties hers exceed! Fair trees! where s'e'er your barks I wound, No name shall but your own be found.— Andrew Marvell
he woman Caeiro fell in love with. I have no idea who she was, and I intend to never find out, not even out of curiosity. There are things of which the soul refuses to lose its ignorance.— Alvaro De Campos
I'm perfectly aware no one's obliged to reciprocate love, and great poets have nothing to do with being great lovers. But there's a transcendent spite...
Let her remain anonymous even to God!
It's got you thinking - you've never really known anyone who's died of natural causes, have you? Parents and grandparents, plus friends and neighbors and casual lovers, they've all left you too early, and in such ghastly ways. Cancers and violence, accidents and congenital defects, aneurysms of the brain and psyche. You've heard of people who've slipped peacefully away in their sleep, or in their favorite easy chairs, after ripe octogenarian lives, but suspect they must be mythical, in the company of unicorns and mermaids. If you didn't know better, you'd think there was a deliberate methodology behind it all, a gradual pattern of calamity spiraling inward until, at last, you're the only one left to be dealt with. You could be expected to think that, but don't, because you still keep your wits about you, thank god - So to speak.— Brian Hodge
You never have to buy an issue of Cosmo again to be the 'Best Lover He's Ever Had.' Just remember this phrase: 'Oh my goodness, I don't know if that will fit.' Then start mentally picking out jewelry.— Lisa Ann Walter
Just at that moment, Lucilla happened to cross the lawn at a distance. At sight of her, I could not, as I pointed to her, forbear exclaiming in the words of Sir John's favorite poet,— Hannah More
There doth beauty dwell,
There most conspicuous, e'en in outward shape,
Where dawns the high expression of a mind.
"This is very fine," said Sir John, sarcastically. "I admire all you young enthusiastic philosophers, with your intellectual refinement. You pretend to be captivated only with _mind_. I observe, however, that previous to your raptures, you always take care to get this mind lodged in a fair and youthful form. This mental beauty is always prudently enshrined in some elegant corporeal frame, before it is worshiped. I should be glad to see some of these intellectual adorers in love with the mind of an old or ugly woman. I never heard any of you fall into ecstasies in descanting on the mind of your grandmother.
Bringing a novel to light - revealing the form and cadence, shadows and demeanor of a protagonist constructed from thin air - linking scenes and synchronicity across translucent time - holding up a glass brimming with chilled, never-tasted liquid, then sipping from it with intoxicated focus - allowing lovers to make a perilous mess of things, fall apart and nakedly come back together again - looking through conjured windows deep into someone else's snow-bound solitude, feeling utterly alone yet being all-connected: this is not writing. It's world-creating.— Laurie Perez
It's raw, exposed dreaming. It's humbling. At first too personal and intimate to share, it evolves like a child into a life of its own until I have no say in what comes next.
It's what I wake at 4am to say Yes to, the spinning possibility of a new story relentlessly commanding me to write it down so it can whirl in your experience.
It's no time to be sweet - we are tender, flammable, so light, we are the orphaned ones of lovers.— Arlene Kim
How astonishingly intimate the business of fiction is, more intimate than anything that issues from the psychiatrist's couch or even the lovers' bed. You see the soul, pinned and wriggling on the wall.— Martin Amis
Here's the deal. We go in, you stand there like the asshole you are, and I explain you aren't gay lovers with the pharmacist. Sound good?" Dove clicked her blinker on and checked her side mirror.— Debra Anastasia
"All I heard was blah, blah, holding your dick later, blah, blah." Duke rolled down his window and stuck his face into the night.
Book lovers love books!" her mother announced. "There's romance about the books- even having them seems to have a kind of excitement."— Chris Van Allsburg
from Mr. Linden's Library by Walter Dean Myers
I thought Marcus was going to be in my life forever. Then I thought I was wrong. Now he's back. But this time I know what's certain: Marcus will be gone again, and back again and again and again because nothing is permanent. Especially people. Strangers become friends. Friends become lovers. Lovers become strangers. Strangers become friends once more, and over and over. Tomorrow, next week, fifty years from now, I know I'll get another one-word postcard from Marcus, because this one doesn't have a period signifying the end of the sentence.— Megan McCafferty
Or the end of anything at all.
Our tongues, fluent in lover's kiss.— Jennifer Calvert
Metafiction is untrue, as a lover. It cannot betray. It can only reveal. Itself is the only object. It's the act of a lonely solipsist's self-love, a night-light on the black fifth wall of being a subject, a face in a crowd. It's lovers not being lovers. Kissing their own spine. Fucking themselves. True, there are some gifted old contortionists out there. Ambrose and Robbe-Grillet and McElroy and Barthelme can fuck themselves awfully well.— David Foster Wallace
Love's a gift, and can certainly be refused. Refusing doesn't destroy the gift, it simply puts it aside. You're free to do that. I'm not expecting a gift in return. Take what's offered, especially when it's offered so generously and without expectations.— Nora Roberts
The Wishing Bones— Jalina Mhyana
A thousand grandmothers ago
Pyrrha and Deucalion repopulated
the world with rocks, bones of mother Earth,
a generation of my ancestors strained
from the mud of a drowned planet.
But I'm more interested in my earliest
grandmothers, their gills and wetness,
before they crawled from that blue expanse
and learned to carry the sea within them,
in their cells, between their cells, in their eyes.
The buoyancy of ocean has never left us.
It hides in skin's complex reservoir
where we're selectively permeable
and our bodies exchange the smallest life.
If we had no need to distinguish ourselves
from others we'd be missing the skin
that defines lovers and enemies
and opens itself to both.
Hope has a place in a lover's heart.— Enya
Every individual has some qualities that endear him to some other. And per contra, I doubt if there is any class which is not detestable to some other class. Artists, police, the clergy, "reds," foxhunters, Freemasons, Jews, "heaven-born," women's clubwomen (especially in U.S.A.), "Methodys," golfers, dog-lovers; you can't find one body without its "natural" enemies. It's right, what's worse; every class, as a class, is almost sure to have more defects than qualities. As soon as you put men together, they somehow sink, corporatively, below the level of the worst of the individuals composing it. Collect scholars on a club committee, or men of science on a jury; all their virtues vanish, and their vices pop out, reinforced by the self-confidence which the power of numbers is bound to bestow.— Aleister Crowley
In entirety, valentine is a FUCKING DAY, rather than the sanctity of its literal meaning.— Michael Bassey Johnson
So, the women he's loved. Who knew nothing of satisfaction. Who having gotten what they wanted always promptly wanted more. Not greedy. Never greedy ... They were doers and thinkers and lovers and seekers and givers, but dreamers, most dangerously of all.— Taiye Selasi
They were dreamer-women.
Very dangerous women.
Who looked at the world through their wide dreamer-eyes and saw it not as it was, "brutal, senseless," etc., but worse, as it might be or might yet become.
So, insatiable women.
Un-pleasable women.
Who wanted above all things that could not be had. Not what THEY could not have
no such thing for such women
but what wasn't there to be had in the first place.
Sophie thought about Frank's cock sometimes, how famous it was. Not as famous as his voice, sure, but famous in cock terms. Most cocks were seen by only a handful of people: Mom, Dad, creepy uncle, priest, bunkmates, and lovers. Frank's cock had been seen by thousands of showgirls. It was a well-known cock; more than well known, it was a star. Jesus, Frank's cock probably had anecdotes.— Craig Ferguson
No, no. I get it. You had to do it." Kieran's eyes narrowed. "Believe it or not, I'm a sucker for romance. Two star-crossed lovers who don't fit in each other's world. Kind of like Romeo and Juliet - just with fangs.— Jayde Scott
Strike, with hand of fire, O weird musician, thy harp strung with Apollo's golden hair; fill the vast cathedral aisles with symphonies sweet and dim, deft toucher of the organ keys; blow, bugler, blow, until thy silver notes do touch and kiss the moonlit waves, and charm the lovers wandering 'mid the vine-clad hills. But know, your sweetest strains are discords all, compared with childhood's happy laugh - the laugh that fills the eyes with light and every heart with joy. O rippling river of laughter, thou art the blessed boundary line between the beasts and men; and every wayward wave of thine doth drown some fretful fiend of care. O Laughter, rose-lipped daughter of Joy, there are dimples enough in thy cheeks to catch and hold and glorify all the tears of grief.— Robert G. Ingersoll
A servant wants to be rewarded for what he does. A lover wants only to be in love's presence, that ocean whose depth will never be known.— Rumi
Our [western] culture embraces sex addiction. If I drink too much or rack up credit-card debt or lose the rent in Vegas, that's bad. But if I have many lovers, that's good.— Susan Cheever
![Lovers's Sayings By Susan Cheever: Our [western] culture embraces sex addiction. If I drink too much or rack up credit-card](https://www.greatsayings.net/images/loverss-sayings-by-susan-cheever-151844.jpg "Lovers's Sayings By Susan Cheever: Our [western] culture embraces sex addiction. If I drink too much or rack up credit-card")
The Shrink always warned me that carriers stay wracked with lifelong guilt. It's not an uplifting thing having turned lovers into monsters. We feel bad that we haven't turned into monsters ourselves— Scott Westerfeld
survivor's guilt, that's called. And we feel a bit stupid that we didn't notice our own symptoms earlier. I mean, I'd been sort of wondering why the Atkins diet was giving me night vision. But that hadn't seemed like something to worry about ...
I wish," said Dr Perholt to the djinn, "I wish you would love me."— A.S. Byatt
"You honor me," said the djinn, "and maybe you have wasted your wish, for it may well be that love would have happened anyway, since we are together, and sharing our life stories, as lovers do.
There's a great expression that says, "God is a jealous lover," and it's a very accurate expression that has nothing to do with whatever you see god or nature as.— Ben Lee
I think we delight to praise what we enjoy because the praise not merely expresses but completes the enjoyment; it is its appointed consummation. It is not out of compliment that lovers keep on telling one another how beautiful they are; the delight is incomplete till it is expressed. It is frustrating to have discovered a new author and not to be able to tell anyone how good he is; to come suddenly, at the turn of the road, upon some mountain valley of unexpected grandeur and then to have to keep silent because the people with you care for it no more than for a tin can in the ditch; to hear a good joke and find no one to share it with. . . . The Scotch catechism says that man's chief end is 'to glorify God and enjoy Him forever.' But we shall then know that these are the same thing. Fully to enjoy is to glorify. In commanding us to glorify Him, God is inviting us to enjoy Him.— C.S. Lewis
I've never gotten a love letter before. But reading these notes like this, one after the other, it feels like I have. It's like ... it's like there's only ever been Peter. Like everyone else that came before him, they were all to prepare me for this. I think I see the difference now, between loving someone from afar and loving someone up close. When you see them up close, you see the real them, but they also get to see the real you. And Peter does. He sees me, and I see him.— Jenny Han
Surrender is just like love. That's why I say only lovers can become sannyasins - because they know a little of how to surrender. Love is the first step towards the divine, surrender is the last. And two steps is the whole journey.— Rajneesh
Writers are great lovers. They fall in love with other writers. That's how they learn to write. They take on a writer, read everything by him or her, read it over again until they understand how the writer moves, pauses, and sees. That's what being a lover is: stepping out of yourself, stepping into someone else's skin.— Natalie Goldberg
In the very unlikely chance that something unexpected happens today, I'm just going to say that I met you in Barcelona and that we had a wild affair and that I followed you to Malaga for sex and the promise of a good time." "More or less true," Lexi grinned. "It's perfect." "If you get hauled away in handcuffs, I'll ask for visitation rights to get my lady fix.— Giselle Fox
A human life was measured out in bouquets, was it not? New mothers received them. So did graduating seniors, young lovers, blushing brides, and the dead. A flower woman was time's avatar, colorizing the hours, perfuming fleeting instants.— James K. Morrow
To all my soap fans out there, my horror fanatics, comedy lovers, I will tell you this: 'Death Valley' is an action-packed drama, comedic, horror TV series that has a non-stop adventure in each episode. It's like a huge pot of Texas gumbo. If you like all four of those genres, then you'll love this show.— Texas Battle
Laughing like children, living like lovers, rolling like thunder, under the covers, and I guess that's why they call it the blues.— Elton John
It's not sad that I don't love you anymore, it's I can't love anyone anymore.— Pushpa Rana
I see myself as Kiki de Montparnasse, trying to get Man Ray's attention. (Sofia Navarro, 7th July 2012).— Sofia Navarro
It's the only thing I begrudge the rich," I said, as I followed him back down the damp-smelling staircase to the ground floor.— Susanna Kearsley
"What's that?"
"Their ability to buy books that the rest of us can never hope to own.
'WHEN two lovers are making love, and if they are both no-selves, nothingness, then a spontaneous pleasurable sensation happens. Then their body energy, their whole being, loses all identity; they are no more themselves - they have fallen into abyss. But this can happen only for a moment: again they regain, again they start clinging. That's why people become afraid in love.'— Rajneesh
Why do you do this?" she asked.— Paula Altenburg
"Do what?"
"Follow me around. Look at me as if you find me fascinating. Touch me, and say nice things to me. And then, you pull away as if you did nothing at all." She gave him a self-deprecating smile. "I've already agreed to tell you everything I know. There's no need for these games.
You also ought to know that mandrake is a powerful aphrodisiac and is used in love magic, particularly to break down female resistance. That's the explanation of mandrake's folk name: love apple. It's a herb used to pander lovers.' 'Blockhead,' Milva commented. 'And— Andrzej Sapkowski
Somewhere a bird sang, its chant hanging plaintive and melancholy in the still air ... I think it's a sort of lark or something. Our tradition has it that they sing with the voices of lost lovers. If the stars are smiling on them, you will hear its mate call back in a moment.— Jane Johnson
Tonight shall be the very beginning.'— Eleanor Catton
'Was it?'
'It shall be. For me.'
'My beginning was the albatrosses.'
'That is a good beginning; I am glad it is yours. Tonight shall be mine.'
'Ought we to have different ones?'
'Different beginnings? I think we must.'
'Will there be more of them?'
'A great many more. Are your eyes closed?'
'Yes. Are yours?'
'Yes. Though it's so dark it hardly makes a difference.'
'I feel - more than myself.'
'I feel - as though a new chamber of my heart has opened.'
'Listen.'
'What is it?'
'The rain.
While the light remains,' said Carde, speaking slowly in his high deliberate voice, 'only do not forsake the joy of life. If you shall have given all your kisses, you will give too few. And as leaves fall from withered wreaths which you may see spread upon the cups and floating there, so for us, who now as lovers hope for so much, perhaps tomorrow's day will close the doom.— Iris Murdoch
He slid his hand onto Riley's bare abdomen. "I got to thinkin' that a few years down the line, when yer older, what if that was our baby and I could feel it right here under my hand. Feel the life we'd created."— Jana Oliver
Riley's eyes moistened. "Girl or boy?"
"Doesn't matter. If it's a girl, we can name her after my gran. Her name was Emily Rose."
"Hmm ... I like that. Maybe the boy could be Paul Arthur, like my dad."
"Yeah, that works. But that's all the way down the line, isn't it?" It might never come to pass.
There has to be a moment at the beginning where you wonder whether you're in love with the person or in love with the feeling of love itself.— David Levithan
If the moment doesn't pass, that's it - you're done.
And if the moment does pass, it never goes that far. It stands in the distance, ready for whenever you want it back. Sometimes it's even there when you thought you were searching for something else, like an escape route, or your lovers' face.
I closed my eyes and immediately I pictured Brooklyn's full lips parted on a moan, her eyes glassy and her pupils dilated, her cheeks flushed and her body ... her smoking body bared only for me.— Stephanie Witter
Wine lovers all speak of their First Time, a quasi-spiritual moment of awakening to wine's wonderment. After that, it's a life sentence. I've seen it happen to even the most confirmed beer sluggers.— Jennifer Rosen
I can understand where he's coming from ... I too was once secretly in love with you, and I could do nothing but watch from afar. Being close to you while pretending that we're nothing more than friends. The first time I touched you with sexual intention, it was like an electrical current flowing through my fingertips and it paralyzed me. I wanted to make your senses go numb with pleasure. Not only physical pleasure, but desire too, deep inside.— Yonezou Nekota
The curves of his smile become the waves in my ocean.— Stephanie Dray
...because there's a secret order. The books, you can't place them random. The other day I put Cervantes next to Tolstoj.— Ettore Scola
And I thought, if close to Anna Karenina we have Don Quixote, sure the latter will do his best to save her.
More than just someone to lay down with, is a spirit to pray up with.— T.F. Hodge
When you dance, sister, you feel in your heart the blessing of the Goddess, her peace, her kindness. But when you are with him, then the power of the Goddess is in your heart, crashing through you. The Goddess is no thing of stone. The Goddess is breath, desire, despair. She is the green of the brushing leaf, the baby's cry, the lovers bite, the fragrance of the rose. You feel the Goddess moving through you.— John Speed
And the naked lovers looked for a place where they could lay together & Aphrodite suggested that her bed was as good as any. And thus, Ares & Aphrodite, dropped their war games in favour of love games, to make love, not war. And as they kissed & coupled again & again in Aphrodite's bed, the Goddess of Love was impregnated with the lovely Harmonia since Harmony & Peace prevailed when people made love, not war. And that was also the time when Chaos fell on the lovers as the invisible netting rigged by Hephaestus over his wife's bed caught the lovers in its trap.— Nicholas Chong
Pearl-colored light flowed over the far horizon and sparkled in the dewy drops beaded in spider webs. Everything was still - only the gulls and a turtle lazing on a rock observed their presence.— Kathleen Valentine
I don't plan [my recordings], I really don't. It's so spontaneous I wish all rock lovers and rock journalist could witness a Ted Nugent recording session. It is so primal, it's like idiot kids in the garage with their first loud amplifiers, its intoxicating, it is irreverent, it is uninhibited.— Ted Nugent
![Lovers's Sayings By Ted Nugent: I don't plan [my recordings], I really don't. It's so spontaneous I wish all rock](https://www.greatsayings.net/images/loverss-sayings-by-ted-nugent-256410.jpg "Lovers's Sayings By Ted Nugent: I don't plan [my recordings], I really don't. It's so spontaneous I wish all rock")
His chuckle was low and soft against my earlobe. I think it's more like 'what wouldn't I do for you?— Amanda Lance
What if she doesn't worry about her body and eats enough for all the growing she has to do? She might rip her stockings and slam-dance on a forged ID to the Pogues, and walk home barefoot, holding her shoes, alone at dawn; she might baby-sit in a battered-women's shelter one night a month; she might skateboard down Lombard Street with its seven hairpin turns, or fall in love with her best friend and do something about it, or lose herself for hours gazing into test tubes with her hair a mess, or climb a promontory with the girls and get drunk at the top, or sit down when the Pledge of Allegiance says stand, or hop a freight train, or take lovers without telling her last name, or run away to sea. She might revel in all the freedoms that seem so trivial to those who could take them for granted; she might dream seriously the dreams that seem to obvious to those who grew up with them really available. Who knows what she would do? Who knows what it would feel like?— Naomi Wolf
This household happiness did not come all at once, but John and Meg had found the key to it, and each year of married life taught them how to use it, unlocking the treasuries of real home love and mutual helpfulness, which the poorest may possess, and the richest cannot buy. This is the sort of shelf on which young wives and mothers may consent to be laid, safe from the restless fret and fever of the world, finding loyal lovers in the little sons and daughters who cling to them, undaunted by sorrow, poverty, or age, walking side by side, through fair and stormy weather, with a faithful friend, who is, in the true sense of the good old Saxon word, the 'house-band,' and learning, as Meg learned, that a woman's happiest kingdom is home, her highest honor the art of ruling it not as a queen, but as a wise wife and mother.— Louisa May Alcott
