Quotes About Warmth

That's what I love about Richard - he has got this big heart.

I always travel with a cashmere blanket - I take it everywhere with me!

I really like stews: everything in a bowl boiled down right to its essence.

I'm a sucker for a great smile.

I absolutely love-love-love the summer. I love when it's hot outside.

In the summer months, I like as little makeup as possible - I don't want to be too painted. I might put a little cover-up to smooth everything out.

I am a summer person.

British summers give me a really happy feeling.

Just because it's summertime doesn't mean you can't wear long pants and blazers - just make sure they're breathable.

I'm a sun and ocean guy.

I don't mind the sun at all, I like it.

I'm definitely much more of a beach bunny. I prefer the sun over the snow.

There's nothing better than cornflakes with hot milk. It's my Sunday treat.

As long as I have beaches, some good friends around me, it's 75 degrees and sunny, I'm good.

I was born in June, so I like summer, and my favourite part of a sunny day is when the sun sets.

I know it's a cliche, but the sun makes me happy. When you can feel the sunshine on you, you feel better, happier, and naturally, every human being needs the sun.

I don't invent you at sadly cooled-off places from which you've gone away; even your not being there is warm with you and more real and more than a privation. Longing leads out too often into vagueness. Why should I cast myself, when, for all I know, your influence falls on me, gently, like moonlight on a window seat.

It is you; you are the light around these familiar intimate things.

Memory Is Not Enough Memory is not enough… I do not recollect. What I am is alive in me because of you. I do not reinvent you at sadly cooled-off places you have left behind. Even your absence is filled with your warmth and is more real than your not-existing. Longing often meanders into vagueness. Why should I throw myself away when something in you may be touching me, very lightly, like moonlight on a window seat.

My hole is warm and full of light.

Be silly. Be honest. Be kind.

For it is a fire that kindling its first embers in the narrow nook of a private bosom, caught from a wandering spark out of another private heart, glows and enlarges until it warms and beams upon multitudes of men and women, upon the universal heart of all, and so lights up the whole world and all nature with its generous flames.

Oh, what strange wonderful clocks women are. They nest in Time. They make the flesh that holds fast and binds eternity. They live inside the gift, know power, accept, and need not mention it. Why speak of time when you are Time, and shape the universal moments, as they pass, into warmth and action? How men envy and often hate these warm clocks, these wives, who know they will live forever.

There was her face, like a summer peach, beautiful and warm, and the light of the candles reflected in her dark eyes. [He] held his breath. The entire world waited and held its breath.