Quotes About Romance

you got him alone tonight--there'll be a beautiful moon to fill him with poetry and loneliness

You know you're in love when the most interesting conversation you have with the opposite gender is about the one you claim to be in love with.

She believes that I love her!" cried the King. "What a fatal mistake! What is to be done to undeceive her?" "You know best," answered the Mermaid, smiling kindly at him. "When people are as much in love with one another as you two are, they don't need advice from anyone else.

Christine: In sleep he sang to me In dreams he came. That voice which calls to me, And speaks my name. And do I dream again? For now I find, The phantom of the opera is here, Inside my mind Phantom: Sing once again with me , Our strange duet. My power over you, Grows strenger yet. And though you turn from me, To glace behind. The phantom of the opera is there, Inside your mind ? ? The Phantom of the Opera ? ?

I want to drink you in with my eyes till I am intoxicated forever.

His heart was now beating rapidly. He wanted to embrace her, cover her with kisses, caress her hair, touch her breast, stroke her thighs: he wanted to sing songs for her, dance dances for her, write poems for her.

Ned Parminter was in love. He assumed it must be love, because it felt like indigestion – or, to be frank, Irritable Bowel Syndrome – but in a good way.

Had we but world enough, and time,This coyness, lady, were no crime.

I wouldLove you ten years before the Flood,And you should, if you please, refuseTill the conversion of the Jews.My vegetable love should growVaster than empires, and more slow.

Had we but World enough, and Time, This coyness Lady were no crime. We would sit down, and think which way To walk, and pass our long Loves Day.

My vegetable love will grow Vaster than empires, and more slow.

During the first weekend Prince Charles showed Diana around Highgrove, the 353-acre Gloucestershire home he had bought in July--the same month he had started to woo her. As he took her on a guided tour of the eight-bedroomed mansion, the Prince asked her to organize the interior decoration. He liked her taste while she felt that it was a "most improper" suggestion as they were not even engaged.

On screen, sparks flew between Rachel and Mike, enthralling viewers, especially after the second-season finale, which climaxed with their characters having heated sex in the fictional law firm's file room. Fans had become really invested in the fictional

In the summer of 1979 another boyfriend, Adam Russell, completed his language degree at Oxford and decided to spend a year travelling. He left unspoken the fact that he hoped the friendship between himself and Diana could be renewed and developed upon his return. When he arrived home a year later it was too late. A friend told him: "You've only got one rival, the Prince of Wales.

The quest of the handsome prince was complete. He had found his fair maiden and the world had its fairytale.

Did he ever love me as much as he loved all this? I didn't suspect him of going to porn on his computer. I never saw any evidence of that. It didn't take away his sexual energy exactly; it took away his attention and the energy to conduct any family socializing. It certainly dampened down romance.

There's a lot to be said for self-delusionment when it comes to matters of the heart.

He kisses—how do I explain it? Like someone in love. Like he has nothing to lose. Like someone who has just learned a foreign language and can use only the present tense and only the second person. Only now, only you. There are some men who have never been kissed like that. There are some men who discover, after Arthur Less, that they never will be again.

A lover exists only in fragments, a dozen or so if the romance is new, a thousand if we're married to him, and out of those fragments our heart constructs an entire person. What we each create, since whatever is missing is filled by our imagination, is the person we wish him to be. The less we know him, of course, the more we love him. And that's why we always remember that first rapturous night when he was a stranger, and why this rapture returns only when he's dead.

He kisses--how do I explain it? Like someone in love. Like he has nothing to lose. Like someone who has just learned a foreign language and can use only the present tense and only the second person. Only now, only you.

I am sure we both loved a different man. Because a lover exists only in fragments, a dozen or so if the romance is new, a thousand if we've married him, and out of those fragments our heart constructs an entire person. What we each create, since whatever is missing is filled in by our imagination, is the person we wish him to be. The less we know him, of course, the more we love him.

Of course, Andrzej never managed to leave Iowa, but the idea was good and romantic. That's what all Polish boys like when they are seventeen years old: Romantic ideas and somewhere to go.

You're my dream and I plan to sleep forever.

For me," mused Dandelion, "a mattress without a young woman isn't a mattress at all. It is incomplete happiness...