Quotes About Romance

Latin women, you may love them, but may not marry them."'Latin Fiancé Visa' written by Richard Clément. ISBN-13: 978-1951630430

Two poets, Nikolai Gumilyov and Maximilian Voloshin, fought a duel over a non-existent woman.

I love romantic poetry.

Gupta and Singh (1982) found that couples in Jaipur, India, who married for love reported diminished feelings of love if they'd been married for more than five years. By contrast, those who'd undertaken arranged marriages reported more love if they weren't newlyweds. These findings reveal that passionate love "cools" over time, and that there's scope for love to flourish within an arranged marriage.

Let those who wish have their respectability- I wanted freedom, freedom to indulge in whatever caprice struck my fancy, freedom to search in the farthermost corners of the earth for the beautiful, the joyous, and the romantic.

Thrice happy's the wooing That's not long a-doing! So much time is saved in the billing and cooing -- The ring is now bought, the white favours, and gloves, And all the et cetera which crown people's loves.

Adoro tu cuerpo -le dije-.Ni se te ocurra considerarlo otra cosa que no sea perfecto.

We are meant for one another and none else. I know that to be true. I seem, tonight, to know exactly what love is. (I could play Juliet to perfection at this moment!) It is the key to all hearts and your love has opened mine forever. For me, this world begins and ends with you.

Ahora qué dices si me das tu mano, te llevaré donde he querido llevarte desde que te conocí y no es precisamente a mi cama, es a un sitio donde el placer se vuelve algo secundario y llenarnos de amor es la prioridad por la cual ambos velamos.

I was too young to know how much a dangerous man interests a good woman.

Love, as all the good novels know, is a question of title, deed, and possession.

Fond lovers, cruel as their flame, cut in these trees their mistress' name. Little, alas, they know or heed how far these beauties hers exceed!

Blue moon ... You saw me standing alone

The cutthroat savagery of high school romance inspired in nearly all adults a collective amnesia. Having survived it themselves, they locked those memories far away in some dark chamber of their subconscious where things that are too terrible to contemplate are permanently stored.

What an absolute folly love was. Talk about a flawed concept.

For people who dealt largely in dreams, his father was fond of observing, realtors were a surprisingly unromantic bunch, like card counters in a Vegas casino.

I don't now how you could not kid about love and still claim to have a sense of humor

She was a full lipped and hipped italian tomato with Rome burning in her eyes. She had the look of a carnival in Rio, or Mardi Gras in New Orleans, or bullfights in Spain, or Saturday night in my apartment.

Frank Harris' My Life and Loves.

Dedicated to all those who are in love with love and have eaten in the Banyan Tree

Is that too much to expect? That I would name the stars for you? That I would take you there? The splash of my tongue melting you like a sugar cube?

He jumped from the bed, but paused when he got to the sunporch. As Miranda saw him turn to look back at her, her whole body felt warm. "What is it?" she asked him, embarrassed now. But Etienne didn't look embarrassed at all. "It's good, cher. " He winked. "And next time, it'll be even better.

And I'm the only one who gets to dress up! And I can't wait to wear it! It's like cotton candy!" Roo arched an eyebrow. "Sticky?" "No! All pink and fluffy and…sweet. I love the way I feel in it." "I agree," Parker said hoarsely. "I love the way you feel in it, too. And I love the way you feel out of it even better." Roo stared at him. "Wow. You should write greeting cards.

There is romantic nonsense these days about the beauty of death, about the terrible end becoming the lovely beginning, and I think that's wrong, a diminution of the beauty of life. Death is as terrible as birth is wonderful. The laws of physics and nature—not romance—dictate this. It occurs to me that sometimes even nature—raw, silent, solemn, and joyous nature—fears, even if only slightly, rot.