Quotes About Love

Sometimes the little things are the big things.

In fact, you could almost hold that no man is perfect until he meets the right woman.

You don't have to say a thing except yes. You don't have to do anything, either, I'm quite willing to plan it all. You? Yes me. You'd plan all of it? Even the wedding? Why not? You don't even like to plan your own breakfast. He grinned. You mean more to me tban bacon. More than [i]bacon?[/i] I'm honored. You should be, my foolish pea brain.

That's what mother's do. They bother you until you listen. And they do it because they car.

Nonsense. One day, the right man will come along, and you'll change your mind." Harriet wasn't so sure. In all her twenty-four years, she'd never met a single man who had managed to make her feel anything more than acute irritation.

It near broke my heart to treat such a good piece of meat in such a way. Aye, Red said with feeling. I watched ye do it, and it near made me cry,too. Sophia laughed and hugged her father. When this is over,Mary will cook you an entire leg of mutton, perfectly roasted and seasoned. His eyes brightened. With mint sauce? Aye, Mary said, beaming.

To make matters worse, he added in a deep voice that made her shiver, I love turnips. It was indecent that the man could make a sentence as abhorrent as I love turnips sound like an improper proposition. But Dougal MacLean managed it.

As Dougal ushered them into the dining room, he wondered if Sophia's father and her grandfather would both wish to stay at MacFarlane House with them. But as he looked into Sophia's smiling eyes, he realized it didn't matter. So long as she was by his side, life would be a grand adventure. And no man could ask for more.

Love can't cure a broken heart, but it can hold the two sides together while they heal.

When she returned, he would take great delight in showing her how much he loved the morning, when the air held a tang of freshness and the early light dispelled all shadows.

And that was love. True love. The kind that carried on and lasted through the good days and the difficult days. The kind of love that always gave, and never hurt. It might not be the kind of mad love poets wrote about, but it was the kind of love strong enough to build a home upon, secure in the knowledge that this man would be there when things went wrong and would do everything in his considerable power to make things right again.

He laughed, and it dawned on him that this was what he was going to miss the most—all the possibility that was Beth and he. The future moments like this, of laughing and loving. Of sharing and touching.

Because I am your favourite grandson, and you love me more than all of my brothers. Nyet . You are the most frustrating of my grandsons. Find a good woman, marry her, have children - then you will be my favourite. Perhaps I shall settle for second favourite. What would that take?

Roland sat beside his little sister. You are too young to know this, but love cannot grow in rocky soil. It must be planted in a tender heart, cared for with the gentlest of touches, warmed with happiness. and protected from all that might wish to harm it. That sounds like a lot of work, Melisandre said. It is a lot of work. But if it's true love, then it will be the lightest burden you'll ever carry.

Old Woman Nora of Loch Lomond To her three wee Grandaughters one cold night.

But love? True love? As wretched as loneliness could be, it was nothing compared to the pain of betrayal. He'd seen with his own eyes what "love" did to a person—how it built hopes that were rarely, if ever, realized. Falling in love meant being weak, vulnerable to the whims of another.

Men never understand that all a woman truly wants is a man who will listen.Understand.Pay her bills.And,of course,love her madly even when her hips wide due to an unfortunate addiction to bon bons. - Lady Jersey to Mrs.Cowper,as the two watched dancers waltz at Almack's.

You might be a good mom...You can practice on me.

I need a bath." He chuckled. "You smell of smoke, as do I." The duke turned, leaning heavily on his cane. "Jameson, open the carriage door. We shall return to the house." Beth smiled up at Christian. "Shall we adjourn to the house to get some ointment for your hands and a bath, my love?" His eyes lit. "A bath?" Grandfather snorted. "Someone send to London for a special license! Now.

They make a lovely couple, my lord," Jameson said, fishing in his pocket for a clean handkerchief. He found one and handed it to the duke. "Indeed they do," the duke said, blowing his nose rather loudly. "They will be even lovelier once they're properly married!

His mother is worrying about him, Ma said. His mother is wishing her boy would come home.

Every mother can easily imagine losing a child. Motherhood is always half loss anyway. The three-year-old is lost at five, the five-year-old at nine. We consort with ghosts, even as we sit and eat with, scold and kiss, their current corporeal forms. We speak to people who have vanished and, when they answer us, they do the same. Naturally, the information in these speeches is garbled in the translation.

You know, I don't think there's anything truly unforgivable. Not where there's love.

Marriage seemed like such a small space whenever I was in it. I liked the getting married. Courtship has a plotline. But there's no plot to being married. Just the same things over and over again. Same fights, same friends, same things you do on a Saturday. The repetition would start to get to me.