Quotes About Attraction

All night, I talked to other people. I didn't look in his direction, but I always knew where he was. I was painfully aware of him. When he was nearby, my body hummed. When he was away, there was this dull ache. With him near, I felt everything.

Peter smiles, and ugh, it's annoying how handsome he is.

That's when I see him. Peter Kavinsky, walking down the hallway. Like magic. Beautiful, dark-haired Peter. He deserves background music, he looks so good.

When he backed away, his pupils were huge and unfocused. He blinked, and then he cleared his throat. "Belly," he said, and his voice was foggy. He didn't say anything else, just my name. "Do you still--" Care. Think about me. Want me. Roughly, he said, "Yes. Yes, I still." And then we were kissing again.

I could survive for months, years, on a crush.

What's a meet-cute?" Peter's lying on his side now, his head propped up on his elbow. He looks so adorable I could pinch his cheeks, but I refrain from saying so. His head is big enough as it is. "A meet-cute is when the hero and heroine meet for the very first time, and it's always in a charming way. It's how you know they're going to end up together. The cuter the better.

I don't want to.. you know, fall for you any worse than I already have.

He smiled at me, and that smile -- he just gets in. His smile did it every time.

Smirky mouths make you want to kiss them, to smooth them out and kiss the smirkiness away.

This is the moment I realize I don't love him, that I haven't for a while. That maybe I never did. Because he's right there for the taking: I could kiss him again; I could make him mine. But I don't want him. I want someone else.

She's the kind of person you want to like you. You know she can be cruel; you've seen her be cruel. But when her eyes are on you, and she's paying attention to you, you want it to last. Her beauty is part of it, but there's something more --- something that draws you in. I think it's her transparency --- everything she thinks or feels is written all over her face, and even if it wasn't, she'd say it anyway, because she says what she thinks, without thinking first.

Up close, your face wasn't so much handsome as beautiful.

I could survive for months, years, on a crush. It was like food. It could sustain me.

The old pull, the tide drawing me back in. I kept getting caught in this current—first love, I mean. First love kept making me come back to this, to him. He still took my breath away, just being near him. I had been lying to myself the night before, thinking I was free, thinking I had let him go. It didn't matter what he said or did, I'd never let him go. I

They had such a good meet-cute," I croak.

You're in love with love

All I knew was, I wanted her to look at me like that. After that day, I was done for. I liked her, as more than a friend. I maybe even loved her. There have been other girls. But they weren't her.

I like him in sweaters.

Lara Jean, creo que te medio enamoras de cada persona a la que conoces. Es parte de tu encanto. Estás enamorada del amor.

Hey, so what's the deal with you and Kavinsky?" I just shrug and give him an enigmatic smile. "It's crazy, right? Because he's so…" I search for the exact right word, but I can't think of it. "I mean, he could play the part of a handsome guy in a movie." Hastily I add, "So could you, though. You'd play the guy the girl should pick." Lucas laughs, but I can tell he likes it.

Wanna hear something funny?" "What?" "I think I started liking you.

Y quién sabe medir el atractivo de una persona? Algunas veces las personas son un millón de veces más atractivas para ti en tu mente. Es como si tú los vieras por un lente especial, pero quizá es así como tu realmente los ves.

I like to watch Peter when he doesn't know I'm looking. I like to admire the straight line of his jaw, the curve of his cheekbone. There's an openness to his face, an innocence--a certain kind of niceness. It's the niceness that touches my heart the most.

I look at Peter's profile out of the corner of my eye. Sometimes I still can't believe he's mine. The handsomest boy of all the handsome boys is mine, all mine. "What?" he says. "Nothing," I say.