Quotes About Romance

I almost went to bed without remembering the four white violets I put in the button-hole of your green sweater and how i kissed you then and you kissed me shy as though I'd never been your lover

Show me slowly what I only know the limits of Dance me to the end of love

Well I see you there with the rose in your teeth One more thin gypsy thief Yes, and thanks, for the trouble you took from her eyes I thought it was there for good so I never tried. And Jane came by with a lock of your hair She said that you gave it to her That night that you planned to go clear

I am running through a snowfall which is her thighs, he dramatized in purple. Her thighs are filling up the street. Wide as a snowfall, heavy as huge falling Zeppelins, her damp thighs are settling on the sharp roofs and wooden balconies. Weather-vanes press the shape of roosters and sail-boats into the skin. The faces of famous statues are preserved like intaglios....

And when the hunger for your touch Rises from the hunger, You whisper, "You have loved enough, Now let me me the Lover.

everybody wants a box of chocolates and a long-stemmed rose

Si strinsero le mani, si baciarono quando la luce fu abbastanza fioca, filtrando dorata attraverso i cespugli spinosi. Poi tornarono lentamente a casa, senza tenersi per mano, ma urtandosi a vicenda.

Si presero per mano e corsero giù per la collina. Le foglie secche si frantumavano sotto i piedi e loro cercarono i mucchi per calpestarle.

Durante le due settimane in cui restó in città, vide Tamara quasi tutte le sere. Lei aveva lasciato lo psichiatra e aveva sposato l'Arte, che era meno esigente e costava meno. "Non raccontiamoci nessuna novità, Tamara". "Cos'è, pigrizia o amicizia?". "È amore!". Breavman finse uno svenimento teatrale.

I've never been Romeo who meets a girl and falls for her immediately. It's been a much slower process for me each time I've gone into a relationship.

Should I belong to one man whom I do not love, only because I loved him once? No, I cannot renounce Ã¢â'¬â€œ I love him who pleases me and if he loves me, I make him happy. Is that so awful? It is at least much better than if I were to cruelly revel in the torments that my charms inspire and prudishly turn away from the one who is in love with me. I am young, beautiful and so I live happily for pleasure and desire.

He knew what was going to happen next. He'd answer her silly-ass question, take her drunken ass out on the dance floor, and an hour later they'd be doing the horizontal cha-cha. Not bad work if you could get it though, he thought... "How'd I lose my eye?

You know that feeling. When you like a boy but then he starts to like you and you stop liking him.

She was an Amazon. Her whole life was spent riding at breakneck speed towards the wilder shores of love.

This is the only time in our lives we fall madly in love before we know what the person is like. ~Ellen Goodman

mouths met in a slow, warm kiss that demanded nothing yet promised the world. The kind only two people who'd shared incredible intimacies, and knew how good things could be, were able to fully savor. She tasted so sweet, and felt so right in his arms, that he couldn't even remember why he'd bargained for anything but the real deal

hands, gently toying with her sensitive nipples. Gasping, she sagged against him, knowing he wouldn't let her fall. One strong hand slid down her side to her hip, where he grasped her possessively; then he pushed her back to lean against the wall. Kissing his way down her neck and nuzzling into the hollow of her throat, he murmured tender, sexy promises, the hunger in his voice making

Stacey stepped closer. Closer. Until the tips of her boot-clad feet touched his shoes and their clothes brushed. The place was wrong; the timing was even more wrong. But everything else about the moment

The American is wholeheartedly for love and romance at any cost.

I do love foreplay," he whispered against her lips. "Days and days worth of it. I want to look forward to you like a kid looks forward to Christmas.

She was far too busy living out a passionate romance with Jesus Christ to be pining after an earthly prince.

I will look on the stars and look on thee, and read the page of thy destiny.

The first love-letter is an epoch in love's happy season — it makes assurance doubly sure — that which has hitherto, perhaps, only found utterance in sweet and hurried words, now seems to take a more tangible existence. A love-letter is a proof of how dearly, even in absence, you are remembered.

Here's my problem. On Valentine's Day the flowers are wilting and so am I.