Quotes About Romance

Oh ! l'amour ! dit-elle, et sa voix tremblait, et son oeil rayonnait. C'est être deux et n'être qu'un. Un homme et une femme qui se fondent en un ange. C'est le ciel.

in the first love, the soul is taken far before the body; afterwards the body is taken far before the soul; sometimes the soul is not taken at all...

EÈ™ti logodnica mea. Ridic?-te È™i vino. Fie ca albastrul adânc unde str?lucesc aÈ™trii s? fie martorul primirii sufletului meu de c?tre sufletul t?u È™i ca prima noastr? s?rutare s? se contopeasc? cu cerul.

Ah! my poor Bahorel, she is a superb girl, very literary, with tiny feet, little hands, she dresses well, and is white and dimpled, with the eyes of a fortune-teller. I am wild over her.

Come fu che le loro labbra s'incontrarono? Come avviene che l'uccello canta, che la neve si scioglie, che la rosa sboccia, che maggio dà i suoi fiori, che l'alba imbianca dietro gli alberi neri le cime frementi delle colline? Un bacio, e fu tutto.

One hardly dares to say, nowadays, that two beings fell in love because they looked at each other. That is the way people do fall in love, nevertheless, and the only way.

Qu'est-ce que ton baiser? — Un lèchement de flamme

after depositing in her heart one of the two germs which are destined, later on, to fill the whole life of woman, coquetry. Love is the other.

La sonrisa de la mujer amada tiene una claridad que disipa las tinieblas.

Ah, s? fii culcat al?turi de ea în acelaÈ™i mormânt, mân? în mân?, È™i din când în când, în întuneric, s? ne mângâiem încet un deget. VeÈ™nicia mea s-ar mulÈ›umi cu atât.

These Oscars bore the names, one of Felix Tholomyes, of Toulouse; the second, Listolier, of Cahors; the next, Fameuil, of Limoges; the last, Blachevelle, of Montauban. Naturally, each of them had his mistress. Blachevelle loved Favourite, so named because she had been in England; Listolier adored Dahlia, who had taken for her nickname the name of a flower; Fameuil idolized Zephine, an abridgment of Josephine; Tholomyes had Fantine, called the Blonde, because of her beautiful, sunny hair.

When I met your father, it was magic. Not for him—not then—but for me. Sometimes, if you're lucky, you can look into a pair of eyes and see your whole future.

She was touching his body with her tongue, and he felt it there, but somehow what she was doing went deeper. As if that gentle, moist tongue of hers were flicking his heart as well.

She had read countless romantic novels in her life and she had dreamed of love forever; even so, she'd never known that a plain old double mattress could become a world unto itself, an oasis.

I think maybe 'in love' has the shelf life of whipping cream. No matter how you handle it, it goes sour. But if you're lucky, you get past 'in love' and end up just loving someone.

I don't know how romantic I am, but I only know one way to love...All the way. When I love, I risk my heart. All or nothing.

Isabelle had traded kisses with boys as if they were pennies to be left on park benches and lost in chair cushions—meaningless.

At his kiss, something opened up inside the scraped, empty interior of her heart, unfurled. For the first time, her romantic novels made sense, she realized that the landscape of a woman's soul could change as quickly as a world at war.

Once, she had taken love for granted. Never again. Love was the sun and the moon and the stars in a world that was otherwise cold and dark.

It had been the first kiss for both of them, and to this day, when Dean kissed a woman, he longed for the smell of the sea.

Mama and dad had run off together; theirs was a beautiful, romantic story of love against all odds. Mama had quit high school and "lived on love." That was how she always put it, the fairy tale. Now Leni was old enough to know that like all fairy tales, theirs was filled with thickets and dark places and broken dreams, and runaway girls.

For the first time, her romantic novels made sense; she realized that the landscape of a woman's soul could change as quickly as a world at war.

Falling in love with you was the best thing I ever did.

It was the truest fact of her world. She loved everything about this man, his smile, the way he mumbled in his sleep and laughed after a sneeze and sang opera in the shower. She