Quotes About Romance

Don't laugh at the spinsters, dear girls, for often very tender, tragic romances are hidden away in the hearts that beat so quietly under the sober gowns, and many silent sacrifices of youth, health, ambition, love itself, make the faded faces beautiful in God's sight. Even the sad, sour sisters should be kindly dealt with, because they have missed the sweetest part of life.

A girl with eyes like hers has a will and is not ruled by anyone but a lover.

Don't laugh at the spinsters, dear girls, for often very tender, tragic romances are hidden away in the hearts that beat so quietly under the sober gowns, and many silent sacrifices of youth, health, ambition, love itself, make the faded faces beautiful in God's sight. Even the sad, sour sisters should be kindly dealt with, because they have missed the sweetest part of life, if for no other reason.

Don't laugh at the spinsters, dear girls, for often very tender, tragic romances are hidden away in the hearts that beat so quietly under the sober gowns, and many silent sacrifices of youth, health, ambition, love itself, make the faded faces beautiful in God's sight. Even the sad, sour sisters should be kindly dealt with, because they have missed the sweetest part of life, if for no other reason.

Lords of Disgrace Bachelors for life!

I bought a selection of short, romantic fiction novels, studied them, decided that I had found a formula and then wrote a book that I figured was the perfect story. Thank goodness it was rejected.

some people meet the way the sky meets the earth, inevitably, and there is no stopping or holding back their love. It exists in a finished world, beyond the reach of common sense.

You gave him The Gashlycrumb Tinies?" asked Stephen. "By Edward Gorey? Oh, I think I really do love you," he said to Ruth.

Everyone was getting married and it seemed like fun. I

He has a song in his heart for me. I hope it is not "Shut Uppa You Face, Whatsa Matta You.

louise rennison

There he is, tall, tanned, Italian, sophisticated. So what do you do?" I said, "Er, leap on him and snog him within an inch of his life? Taking care not to strangle myself on his false beard, or disturb his banana.

11:20 a.m. This is my fabulous life: the Sex God left for Whakatane last month and he has taken my heart with him. 11:25 a.m. Not literally, of course, otherwise there would be a big hole in my nunga-nungas. 11:28 a.m. And also I would be dead. Which quite frankly would be a blessing in disguise.

It was like being in an exciting movie, except I didn't know whether it was a romance or a comedy.

Oh no. I've just accidently paid a visit to the cakeshop of love. I haven't put back my Italian cakey, but I have accidentally picked up a Dave the Tart." ? Louise Rennison, Dancing in My Nuddy-Pants: Even Further Confessions of Georgia Nicolson

Apparently if you want to get a boy to like you, you go sort of mysterious and icy and cool. That's what my cousin said and she has loads of boyfriends and snogging-type experiences.

what do you do with Sex Gods? Besides snog and worship them, I mean.

I could have stayed holding on to Masimo and riding round forever, round and round, like that bloke on that doomed phantom boat, The Flying Dutchman. Of course there are differences—he was not on a scooter, and I don't have a beard and I am not Dutch.

She said I've got a 40-gallon stetson hat With a 38-foot brim We could dance around the outside baby 'Til we both fall in And you can rope me on the prarie And you can ride me on the plain And I will be your Cinderella If you'll be my cowboy man

That's why I'm in love with you. You turn me on without even trying.

Tell me, Was Venus more beautiful Than you are, When she topped The crinkled waves, Drifting shoreward On her plaited shell? Was Botticelli?s vision Fairer than mine; And were the painted rosebuds He tossed his lady Of better worth Than the words I blow about you To cover your too great loveliness As with a gauze Of misted silver?

Then I see you, Standing under a spire of pale blue larkspur, With a basket of roses on your arm. You are cool, like silver, And you smile. I think the Canterbury bells are playing little tunes.

When the birds their sweethearts win And champagne is in the air, Love is here, and Love is there, Love is welcome everywhere.

And as nearer and ever nearer I felt the throb of your tread, To be in the world grew dearer, And my blood ran rosier red.