Quotes About Love

He searched her face, his icy-blue eyes keen and cold. She knew she should hold him, should tell him how much she loved him and trusted him and needed him. But something held her back. There it was again. A silence between them. Something else unsaid. Is this how it starts? Clara wondered. Those chasms between couples, filled not with comfort and familiarity, but with too much unsaid, and too much said.

That in the midst of your nightmare, the final one, a kind lion will pick your soul up gently by the nape of the neck, Home. Home. He wanted to go home. And sit by the fire. And listen to their friends talking and laughing. To hold Reine-Marie's hand and watch their grandchildren play. And caress you into darkness and paradise.

También si todo aquello desaparecería con el tiempo. Si la voz se apagaría y los rasgos se desdibujarían. Si los recuerdos se desvanecerían y ocuparían su lugar en el olvido junto a otros acontecimientos del pasado, igual de agradables pero neutros. Avec le temps. ¿Es que con el paso del tiempo amamos menos?

Attachment masquerades as Love,

There are three couplings,' said Myrna, herself leaning forward now, and whispering though she didn't know why. 'Attachment masquerades as Love, Pity as Compassion and Indifference as Equanimity.

And love and attachment?' asked Gamache. 'Mothers and children are classic examples. Some mothers see their job as preparing their kids to live in the big old world. To be independent, to marry and have children of their own. To live wherever they choose and do what makes them happy. That's love. Others, and we all see them, cling to their children. Move to the same city, the same neighborhood. Live through them. Stifle them. Manipulate, use guilt-trips, cripple them.

And now here is my secret, a very simple secret. It is only with the heart that one can see rightly; what is essential is invisible to the eye. Armand wondered if Florence understood that line from The

At Christmas homes were full of the people there and people not there.

heart. And now here is my secret, a very simple secret. It is only with the heart that one can see rightly; what is essential is invisible to the eye.

This is what comes of trust and friendship, loyalty and love, thought Peter. You get screwed. Betrayed. You get wounded so deeply you can barely breathe and sometimes it kills you. Or worse. It kills the people you love most. Ben had almost killed Clara. He'd trusted Ben. Loved Ben. And this is what happened. Never again. Gamache had been right about Matthew 10:36.

love was compass enough," said Armand quietly, "there would be no missing children.

knows she's loved. What more do any of us want?

Louise Rennison

What if you were really meant to be with someone? But you kept messing about and having the Horn and so on and you lost them.

Heathcliff. The "hero" of Wuthering Heights. Although no one knows why. He's mean, moody, and possibly a bit on the pongy side. Cathy loves him, though. She shows this by viciously rejecting him and marrying someone else for a laugh. Still, that is true love on the moors for you.

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

Mr. Darcy was in Pride and Prejudice and at first he was all snooty and huffy; then he fell in a lake and came out with his shirt all wet. And then we all loved him. In a swoony way.

I've never had anyone say they love me before. Libby lobes me, that is true, but there is something a bit menacing about the way she says it.

Out on the moors, The lonely moors, I roll around in sheep poo. Heathcliff, it's youuuuu, I hate you, I love you tooooo. Let me in, I'm here, it's meeeee, Catheeeeeeee. Look out of your windooooow.

I always want to tell him everything. But instead I said, "What's your advice, Horn - meister?" And he started doing pretend beard stroking and said, "Well, luuurve is a many trousered thing. . . .

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

However, I will never feel anything again. Good. I am done with love. It's a mug's game. I am just going to sit in my room for the rest of my life not doing stuff.

I don't think their mummy and daddy told them they were little sunbeams for Jesus.

Kedves Muti és Vati! Remélem, a macskalincselÅ' gy?lés rendben zajlik. Találtam egy darabka száraz pirítóst a teámhoz meg egy kis kukoricapelyhet, hogy elkerüljem a skorbutot. Gondoljatok rám, ha akad egy szabad percetek. Lányotok, Georgia