Quotes About Love

I wanted to tell her I loved her. I wanted to tell her things would be simple. I wanted to tell her the soft animal of my body wanted only the soft animal of hers. But instead, I let myself succumb to the warmth of her skin and the rhythm of her breath, slipping back into a half-sleep.

I ached and ached, but I didn't know what aching was, so I thought it was love. I wrote her I loved her. I wrote her to love me back. I wrote her I'm sorry. I didn't know what I was sorry for. But I felt it in the swell of my belly, full of apples and regret. Deep and primal. The first feeling I ever learned to name.

I kissed her on the top of her head and hoped that she knew that that meant I love you. She slid her arm around me, underneath my shirt, skin pressed to skin, and I knew that she meant I love you, too.

It was a light, soft kiss. Just a peck, really, but the second her lips touched mine, everything inside of me went quiet. Everything in me steadied, calmed, warmed. It was like taking that first good sip of hot chocolate; not the one that burned your mouth, but the one after, when it had cooled to just the right temperature.

I love you. The thought startled me, but I felt it spread through my body like warm ocean waves. I loved her. I wanted to say it, but I was afraid of being too much. Of scaring her off. Of adding to the jumble of overwhelming emotions she was probably already feeling. So, I tucked the words deep in the corner of my heart, saving them for a rainy day

You can't build homes out of people, but that didn't stop me from letting Noah burrow her way into my heart. The fireplace in our living room crackled and bloomed as her eyelids drifted slowly shut, and I thought that no matter where we were, no matter what we did, home would always be with her

I kissed her again and lit up once more. She tasted like peaches and laughter and I remember thinking that peaches were my new favorite fruit.

Grace is God's acceptance of us. Faith is our acceptance of God accepting us.

God's Riches At Christ's Expense.

You can sing all you want about how you love Jesus, you can have crocodile tears in your eyes, but the consecration that doesn't reach your purse has not reached your heart.

When did Jesus start loving you? He never did—He has always loved you. He loved you before time began. He loved you before He swung this planet into space. You were in the heart and mind of God before the foundation of the world.

Maybe a first love exists to reaffirm the best parts of yourself, the choices you made when you didn't worry about the consequences. Maybe a first love exists to remind you to be brave in the moment, to stand up for your feelings, instead of shrinking back in the face of potential loneliness.

Two different things. Work is survival, and love sustains you. You have work anytime. But love? Not always.

Mama always said a good family has one heartbeat. No one knows you like the people you live with, and no one will take up your cause to the outside world quite like your blood relatives.

He promised to love me. And for once in my life, I'm going to do the impractical, unwise, ill-advised thing. I'm going to make a decision based upon the feeling I have in my heart, and not what looks good on paper or makes anyone else happy. I'm going to do something for me, and I'll live with whatever Ciro brings into my life and be happy that I did.

The wedding vows are a license to be a complete jerk, with full knowledge that the person you married has agreed, no matter how large a horse's ass you are, to stay by your side until death. A fool could tell you this is a bad deal.

He loved his family and he loved beauty. For a true Italian, those are the only two things that matter, because in the end that's what sustains you. Your family gathers around you and shores you up while the beauty uplifts you.

The best thing a father can do for his son is love his mother.

Ciro took Enza's face in his hands. I have loved you all of my life. I was a boy who knew nothing, but when I met you, somehow I understood everything

When I close my eyes, all I ever see is her face. There is no place or time without her. Where I am doesn't matter when we're apart. All I want is her.

Marriage is like working in a coal mine. You hack away in the dark, day after day, busting rock, and you think you're not getting anywhere, and then all of a sudden, this little sliver of sunlight appears and you say to yourself, oh, that's what I've been waiting for--just a little light, just a little bit of hope--a sign, maybe, that will get me through. And...it does.

Listen to me. Love yourself. That's the greatest adventure. When you love yourself, you want to find your purpose, something only you can do in the way only you can do it. Make things. Create. And if a man comes along—and believe me, he will—the relationship is already off to a good start because both of you love the same person. You. Lucky him.

A man needs his father more as life progresses, not less. It is not enough to learn how to use a lathe, milk a cow, repair a roof; there are greater holes to mend, deeper wells to fill, that only a father's wisdom can sustain. A father teaches his son how to think a problem through, how to lead a household, how to love his wife. A father sets an example for his son, building his character from the soul outward.

For Ciro, Enza would sacrifice, fight to put food on the table, worry and fret over babies, and live life in full. She had only one life to share, and one heart to give the man who most deserved it. If she took Ciro on, she was in for a struggle compared to her life with Vito, but the love of all loves was worth it.