Quotes About Affection

There is no shame in being hungry for another person. There is no shame in wanting very much to share your life with somebody.

To takie cudowne by? cudownym dla tego, kogo si? kocha..

If he really loves you, he'll find a way.

La un moment dat, spun: - Cred ca trebuie sa plec. Ma saruta. - Sau ai putea sa mai stai putin. Asa ca mai raman.

I expect some fast reply, something flirty and flip, but instead he doesn't look up, just reaches for my hand and keeps reading. I can feel the apology in his fingers, and this takes the wind out of me, so I lean into him-just a little-and read over his shoulder. His hand is warm and I don't want to stop holding it.

Because I'm sitting next to you on this swing and you're beautiful

Ultraviolet Remarkey-ably, I think I love you.

I like my mouth, especially when it's attached to Violet's.

Ultraviolet Remarkey-able, I think I love you.

I like the idea of something that can give you those feelings all the time. I want something like that, and then I look at Violet and think: There she is.

We've done "I love you more than' since we were ten, because we love each other beyond three words and needed to find a way to say it.

Just because she smiled at me

You made me feel gold,flowing too

You make me lovely, and it's so lovely to be lovely to the one I love.…

In that instant Marian was swept up by the need to touch him, to reach out and press flesh to flesh, finger to finger; to close her hand on his arm so she could feel the warmth and vigor beneath the tunic sleeve. She wanted to know without question he was living, breathing, and hers.

He turned to me. "Call me later?" "Yes." "Promise?" "I promise," I said. And then he leaned down and kissed me. And this time it wasn't Romeo kissing Juliet. It was Quinn kissing Delia. And that was even better.

A woman in love—a woman loved properly in return—wears her happiness in her eyes, on her cheeks, on her lips, wears it like an invisible garment, a glorious garment that gives her an aura everyone can see.

She smiled a wonderful smile and pinched my cheek.

It was the particular feel of him that made me want to go back: everything that is said is said underneath, where, if it does matter, to acknowledge it is to let on to your embarrassment. That I love you makes me want to run and hide.

Fine," he said. He reached up and cupped my face in both his hands. "We don't have to talk." And that's when he kissed me. On the lips.

She had handed him her heart in her hands without truly knowing whether this quiet, enclosed man could be trusted with it. But it had gone; it had flown from her as if it had always been his, regardless of what he wanted to do with it.

She's home. That's all. That's true love, I can't explain it any better than that.

If there's a corner where you plant your heart, it's always with you.

I love you. I love you. I send this message through my fingers and into his, up his arm and into his heart. Hear me. I love you. And I'm sorry to leave you.