Quotes About Tenderness

We find that David had the tenderness and the sensitivity of an artist. He was a musician and a songwriter. David did not simply have talent. Talent alone could not have soothed the torment of Saul. David plucked the strings of his harp with tenderness and sensitivity. He chose melodies that ministered to the aching soul.

Every little thing wants to be loved

I watched him, filled with tenderness and ache. I don't know if that's what he wanted to ask me, but it's something everybody wants – for someone to see the hurt done to them and set it down like it matters.

One thing is beautiful beyond my words to say it: August holding you.

Unfortunately, there is no magic key. The misogynist's outbursts as well as his tenderness generally have little to do with how his partner is behaving. He is driven by his own inner demons. Therefore, there is no way to guarantee his good moods or eliminate his angry ones.

The title of Kent Haruf's Our Souls at Night promised just that. I read it in a few hours, tranquilized by its tenderness for two widowed characters who find late-life intimacy in the simplest of ways.

He tucked her hair behind her ears and kissed her. I love you Gracie Landon, he said quietly.

Friend. The word was like a bucket of ice water. He drew back slightly, breaking the kiss and resting his forehead on hers.

all the way to her toes...and her soul. Her arms hung at her sides and she curled her fingers into her palms. She wanted to touch him, she wanted to hold him and be held, only it wasn't that simple.

A woman can't stay hard when all around her is loveliness.

Jake's mouth found mine, his lips molding hot and soft to my own. His tongue tentatively tested the seal of my lips; I parted them and he pushed inside. It was startlingly sweet and achingly familiar, like finding harbor.

Eyes closed, I murmured, "Are you kissing it better?" "Am I?" "I think so. My lips hurt too.

I felt such a well of tenderness for this dear old body. Every piece of it proclaimed how tired it was, but it was lovely, too. Her history was written in it, in the stretch marks left by my father, in the surgery scar on her abdomen and the puckered burn scar on the inside of her left arm, in the simple toll of ninety years of fighting gravity.

She rested her head on Esther's shoulder and let the fuzzy warmth of her hug flow through her. It was the kind of warmth that clicked your bones back into place, smoothed out your muscles and made your blood sing a soft lullaby all the way around your body.

When you are in love- everything is romantic

Very softly as he nuzzled her, his mouth near her ear, he began to sing: "I'm so happy with you, la, la...

Lying in their field above the sea, watching the sun go down and the darkness creep over the field so that they were wrapped together in shadow. Will propped himself on one elbow beside her, is finger curling strands of her dark hair until it was bound so tight it pulled her scalp and she cried out, and then he bent over her, kissed her, so,so tenderly, and she thought she would die with happiness. They had made love, the very first time.

As his hands moved to his trousers, he saw that she was pulling the bedsheets over her. "Don't," he said, barely recognizing his own voice. Her eyes met his, and he said, "I'll be your blanket".

Of course none of those men was suitable. Half were after your fortune, and as for the other half—well, you would have reduced them to tears within a month." "Such tenderness for your youngest child," Hyacinth muttered. "It quite undoes me.

And she never knew that he laid awake the whole time, his lips at her temple, his hand against her hair. Whispering her name. Whispering other words as well.

I had a feeling you'd like that," he said with a satisfied grin. "Why do I feel it . . . everywhere?" "Everywhere?" he murmured. His fingers moved between her legs. "Or here?" "Everywhere," she said breathlessly, "but there most of all.

he was examining her as if he wanted to catalogue her every feature. "I wanted to see you," he whispered. He touched her cheek, then smoothed his thumb down the line of her jaw. "You're always in motion. I don't get to just see you.

Colin?" she whispered. He took a step forward—barely a half a foot, but it was close enough so that when he touched her chin and tipped her face up, her lips were mere inches from his.

tiny movements that spoke volumes and seemed to envelop them in a fine mist of Pretty.