Quotes About Romance

I brought my face up and put my head back, baring my neck to the wind like a lover, to the rain like an offering.

The conventional parabola--sentiment, the touch of the hand, the kiss, the passionate kiss, the feel of the body, the climax in the bed, then more bed, then less bed, then the boredom, the tears and the final bitterness--was to him shameful and hypocritical.

Bond had taken her to the station and had kissed her once hard on the lips and had gone away. It hadn't been love, but a quotation had come into Bond's mind as his cab moved out of Pennsylvania station: 'Some love is fire, some love is rust. But the finest, cleanest love is lust.

Într-o lupt? cu niÈ™te È›igani, chiar aici pe dealurile din spatele Istanbulului, am câÈ™tigat o fat? din Basarabia.

Now it's your turn again,' she said. 'Buy me another drink and then tell me what sort of a woman you think would add to you.' Bond gave his order to the steward. He lit a cigarette and turned back to her. 'Somebody who can make Sauce Béarnaise as well as love,' he said. 'Holy mackerel! Just any old dumb hag who can cook and lie on her back?

He looked up. She was standing a few feet away from him. He noticed that she was wearing a black beret at a rakish angle and that she looked exciting and mysterious like someone you see driving by abroad, alone in an open car, someone unattainable and more desirable than anyone you have ever known. Someone who is on her way to make love to somebody else. Someone who is not for you.

Some love is fire, some love is rust. But the finest, cleanest love is lust.

Only two weeks later we were lovers. It was somehow inevitable.

He was discovering that being in love was not a steady state, but a matter of fresh surges or waves, and he was experiencing one now.

But soon I loved her completely and wished to possess her, own her, absorb her, eat her. I wanted her in my arms and in my bed, I longed she would open her legs to me

The conversation had turned again to those moments, by now enriched by a private mythology, when they first set eyes on each other

her conviction that love that did not find its expression in a letter was not perfect.

In my dreams, I kiss your cunt, your sweet wet cunt. In my thoughts I make love to you all day long.

Love stories like Jane Austen's used to conclude chastely with preparations for a wedding. Now their climax lay on the far side of carnal knowledge, where all of complexity waited.

Even in the most richly communicative and reciprocal love affairs, it is nearly impossible to sustain that initial state of rapture beyond a few weeks.

He was discovering that being in love was not a steady state, but a matter of fresh surges or waves.

Here was a surprise, a love affair, an affair of love, as he entered his seventies.

You know, she said, stirring her tea, the fastest way to get him off your back is to sleep with him. And tell him you love him. Preferably while in bed. I smirked and the tea almost came out of my nose. He'd run like he was on fire.

Are you hungry, baby?" Curran asked. "Starving." "I think we should go to dinner." "Great idea." "What are you going to wear?" "My badass face." "Good choice," he said. »

Curran and Kate stood by the door. "I can't believe you decided to come down here and check on me," she said. "The guy once handed you a fan and told you to fan yourself if the sight of his naked torso was too much." "That was like a year ago. Will you let it go already?" "No." Curran grabbed her and pulled her to him, kissing her. "Never." She kissed him back and smiled. Awww. Kate and the Beast Lord sitting in a tree…

Mmmm, Kate, the Chief of Security. Sexy. Who better to guard my body then the woman who owns it? Curran, I will punch you.

Now that was a kiss," Grandma Frida said from the doorway behind me. I jumped. "How long have you been there?" "Long enough. That man means business." All my words tried to come out at once. "I don't . . . what . . . asshole! . . . screw himself for all I care!" "Aww, young love, so passionate," Grandma said. "I'm going to buy you a subscription to Brides magazine. You should start shopping for dresses.

Who's the guy?" "He's my . . ." Fiancé, honey-bunny? "He's mine." Lago nodded knowingly. "The thing with the Beast Lord didn't turn out, huh? That's okay, I heard that guy is a dick. You don't need that shit.

I'm sorry about the dinner. Best date ever. Well, until people died and vampires showed up. But before that it was awesome.