Quotes About Romance

He didn't know her name, didn't know anything about her except that she dreamed of Rome and smelled like violets. And that she tasted like vanilla cream.

Simon groaned. "Do young ladies still need permission to waltz?

And so kissing her became a matter of self-preservation. It was simple. If he did not kiss her now, if he did not consume her, he would die. It sounded melodramatic, but at the moment he would have sworn it to be true. The hand of desire twisting around his gut would burst into flame and take him along with it.

he was falling in love with her, but he had never been a man to speak of his feelings, and the words choked in his throat. So he kissed her one last time, truly and deeply, hoping she recognized it for what it was, an offering of his very soul. Yours, he thought. I am yours.

Colin?" she whispered. He took a step forward—barely a half a foot, but it was close enough so that when he touched her chin and tipped her face up, her lips were mere inches from his.

Sophie Bridgerton

And in that moment, as he slowly closed the distance between them, he became her entire world.

Thank you," she whispered. Thank you? He went still. It was exactly the wrong thing to say. He didn't want to be thanked for his kiss.

Edmund..." "That's Mr. Bridgerton to you." "So formal?" "Only because it means I get to call you Mrs. Bridgerton." It was remarkable, how he could make her so ridiculously happy with a single sentence.

this was poetry, this was music. This was love.

It was the sort of kiss that seduced with subtlety, sent tingles through her body and left her desperate for more.

A few minutes later they were ensconced in his landau, the canopy pulled up tight.

Ce n'était pas un baiser, c'était… le paradis.

There is nothing in this world more precious than love.

It had started with a smile, a word, a teasing glance. Every second he had spent in her presence it had grown, until he'd reached this moment, and he suddenly knew. He loved her.

Before I met you I was only half-alive.

Anthony knew he was being fanciful, but when he gazed upon her face, he could not help thinking of the new dawn, of that exact moment when the sun was creeping over the horizon, painting the sky with its subtle palette of peaches and pinks.

It was as if her insides were light-headed. And her heart was not beating quite properly. It wasn't racing, and it wasn't pounding … It was dancing. Singing.

Bilirsin,aÅŸk?n insan?n kar??s?na ne zaman ç?kaca?? belli olmaz.

Good God, you don't think I'm trying to pair you off with Daphne, do you?" Simon said nothing. "You would never suit. You're a bit too brooding for her tastes.

I think I have to kiss you," he said, looking as if he couldn't quite believe his own words. "It's rather like breathing. One doesn't have much choice in the matter.

This kiss . . . I wish for it with a fervor that shakes my soul. I have no idea why I wish it, only that I felt it the moment I saw you at the piano, and it has only intensified in the days since." She

When he saw her across a crowded room, his skin grew hot, and when he saw her in his dreams, he went up in flames.

Knowing that their moments together would form a short poem and not a long and lusty novel.