Quotes About Love

Leaning over me with his chest bare, he pressed his wadded-up t-shirt to my ear. It was his Poser t-shirt that he wore to school at least twice a week,and he was willingly staunching my blood with it.He must be in love.

When I told you I loved you, that's what I meant. I never intended to be your experiment, or your walk on the wild side, or your favorite mistake.

I'm in love with you.

Because at some time in the last five days, I jad freaking fallen in love with John After

And the rest is happily ever After. T

The first time he'd called me Hoyden , years ago, I'd sneaked a peek in the dictionary to look up what it meant: a noisy girl. Not exactly flattering. Not exactly a lie, either. But I couldn't let him know I felt flattered that he'd taken the time to look up a word in the dictionary to insult me with. Because that would make me insane, desperate, and in unrequited love.

I picture it like Judgement Day,' he says finally, his eyes on the water. 'We'll rise up out of our bodies and find each other again in spirit form. We'll meet in that new place, all of us together, and first it'll seem strange, and pretty soon it'll seem strange that you could ever lose someone, or get lost.

I'm sorry and I believe in you and I'll always be near you, protecting you, and I will never leave you, I'll be curled around your heart for the rest of your life.

At night, the house thick with sleep, she would peer out her bedroom window at the trees and sky and feel the presence of a mystery. Some possibility that included her--separate from her present life and without its limitations. A secret. Riding in the car with her father, she would look out at other cars full of people she'd never seen, any one of whom she might someday meet and love, and would feel the world holding her making its secret plans.

And sitting there, sea drifting in around them, Wolf had understood for the first time what kind of life he wanted to live with Faith. Maybe they wouldn't rise up into the sky the way he'd thought, maybe the real thing was doing what his parents had done, pay the rent, read the paper, hell, maybe that was the dare. To live--day in, day out. Just live.

I guess it's always romantic when two people fall in love.... Even if it turns out not to be real.

I will never leave you, I'll be curled around your heart for the rest of your life

One horror of motherhood lies in the moments when she can see both the exquisiteness of her child and his utter inconsequence to others.

All that love, all that pain, all the stuff people feel – not just me and you, brother, but everyone, everyone who's ever walked this beautiful green planet – how can all that disappear when somebody dies? It can't disappear, it's too big. Too strong, too... permanent. So it moves to another frequency, where the human ear can't pick up.

A dog's love is forever. We expect infidelity from one another; we marvel at this one's ability to hold that one's interest for fifty, sixty years; perhaps some of us feel a secret contempt for monogamy even as we extol it, wishing parole for its weary participants. But dogs do not receive our sympathy or our suspicion—from dogs we presume an eternal adoration.

But Phoebe loved her mother best as she was now, wistful, out-of-step, her laugh tinged always with sadness, as if things were only funny in spite of themselves.

This is it," I sob, clinging to Angel and Liz, their warm shoulders. I hear them crying, too, and think, It will be like this always. From now on, nothing can divide us.

I feel Angel warm beside me and think how I'll never love anyone this much, how without her I would disappear.

One horror of motherhood lies in the moments when she can see both the exquisiteness of her child and his utter inconsequence to others. There are so many boys in the world.

I take hold of Lulu's hand and she squeezes my hand back and I whisper very softly close to her ear Lulu let's be secret friends and no one will know except us and she whispers back very softly Friends Without Borders and we squeeze our hands hard and that is our promise. And I wonder if I might be in love with Lulu instead of Chris, or maybe I love them both which seems possible on a pier in the Muskaheegee River but nowhere else.

Then winter ended and spring came, and I thought, even if I don't believe there's a poem in anything anymore, maybe I'll write a story. A lot of people do that when they can't seem to figure out who or what they love. It might be an oversimplification, but they seem to write poetry when they do know.

Agnes felt her daughter's impatience that she go, and it made her want to cleave, as if holding Anna would somehow awaken in her daughter the need to be held. Agnes clasped her fiercely, trying through sheer force to open the folded part of Anna, so deeply recessed.

Then she gathered us into her arms and we held her, feeling the heat from under her skin, and we were the three-headed monster again, with its three yearning hearts. We held our mother as long as we could, and then longer, until she started to laugh. My beautiful grown-up daughters, she said.

She loved to read and did so quite uncritically, taking each book as a prescription of sorts, an argument for a certain kind of life.