Quotes About Romance

Once upon a time a boy loved a girl, and her laughter was a question he wanted to spend his whole life answering.

Érase una vez un niño que amaba a una niña, y la risa de ella era como una pregunta que él quería pasar la vida contestando.

Y entonces le dio un beso. Aquel beso era una pregunta que él deseó estar contestando durante el resto de su vida.

c'era una volta un ragazzo che amava una ragazza, e la sua risata era una domanda a cui lui avrebbe voluto rispondere per il resto della sua vita.

who wants to make it grand or fortify it for the coitus, must rub it before copulation with tepid water, until it gets red and extended by the blood flowing into it, in consequence of the heat; he must then anoint it with a mixture of honey and ginger, rubbing it in sedulously. Then let him join the woman; he will procure for her such pleasure that she objects to him getting off her again.

If were a shower I could saturate your hair Work my way over your lips Across your shoulders Around your waist Through your knees To the tips of your toes And back again Warm wet salty Sweet

Para contemplar la belleza de Layla hay que tener los ojos de Majnún.

Well, it was a million tiny little things that, when you added them all up, they meant we were supposed to be together... and I knew it. I knew it the very first time I touched her. It was like coming home... only to no home I'd ever known... I was just taking her hand to help her out of a car and I knew. It was like... magic. - Sleepless in Seattle

What will NY152 say today, I wonder. I turn on my computer. I wait impatiently as it connects. I go online, and my breath catches in my chest until I hear three little words: You've got mail. I hear nothing. Not even a sound on the streets of New York, just the beating of my own heart. I have mail. From you.

So many of the conscious and unconscious ways men and women treat each other have to do with romantic and sexual fantasies that are deeply ingrained not just in society but in literature.The women's movement may manage to clean up the mess in society, but I don't know if it can clean up the mess in our minds.

My marriage to him was as willful an act as I have ever committed; I married him against all the evidence. I married him believing that marriage doesn't work, that love dies, that passion fades, and in so doing I became the kind of romantic only a cynic is truly capable of being.

In my sex fantasy, nobody ever loves me for my mind

The Flavour of France.

A woman with romance in her life lived as grandly as a queen, because her heart was treasured.

He gave her a quick, casual kiss on the cheek first. Then came the hug, and it was the hug that always made Laurel's heart mush. Serious grip, cheek to the hair, eyes closed, just a little sway. Del's hugs mattered, she thought, and made him impossible to resist.

Aren't most romance heros, or heros in fiction of any kind, generally superior to real men? Same goes for heroines and real women.

Marry me, Rebecca...You might as well say yes. I'll just talk you into it.

There I go being critical again. Does a man have to stand on one foot and juggle for me to consider him entertaining? What am I looking for? A knight?...No, knights are all polished and shiny. I think my taste runs to something with a bit of tarnish and maybe a few scratches. Someone who can make me laugh and cry and make me angry and make my knees tremble when he touches me.

She'd gone past interest, swung into attraction, burst through lust, tripped over affection, and was now skidding out of control into love.

Do you know what I feel about you, Devin? About us?...Dazzled, you dazzle me. You make me feel things, and want things I never knew I could have. -Cassie

I've found out that falling in love doesn't have anything to do with time. It can take a year or an instant. It happens when it's ready to happen.

a man's plans are meant to be changed for a beautiful woman.

As a rule of thumb, I'd say one cliché per [Romance]--and then be damn sure you can make it work. But if you're going to try to write the virginal amnesiac twin disguised as a boy mistaken for the mother (or father depending how well the disguise works) of a secret baby, honey, you better have some serious skills. Or seek therapy.

What do you think? Does everything look right? You really expect me to look at anything but you? She laughed even as her pulse jittered. Boy, I must be in bad shape when a shopworn line like that hits the mark. I mean it, he said and watched her smile fade. I adore looking at you. Laying a hand on her knees with a long, slow, thorough kiss. Beautiful Margo. mine. Well, you're certainly taking my mind off my ... kiss me again. Glad to.