Quotes About Tenderness

Sometimes she did this funny little thing after they'd finished making love. He'd be holding her against his chest, sort of dozing off and feeling peaceful all the way down to his toenails, and she'd make this little ' x' right over his heart with her fingertip. Just this little 'x'. Right over his heart

Herman Melville is not comforting. Emily Dickinson isn't either. Maybe their work is too hungry for comfort, or just too vivid for comfort. But Henry James is – profoundly so. Because he is tender. The tenderness is there in the structure of the sentence. He knows the way the poor and the dead are forgotten by the living, and he cannot allow that to happen. So he keeps on writing for them, for the dead, as if they were children to be sheltered and loved, never abandoned.

baby from her

real fearlessness is the product of tenderness. It comes from letting the world tickle your heart, your raw and beautiful heart. You are willing to open up, without resistance or shyness, and face the world

real fearlessness is the product of tenderness. It comes from letting the world tickle your heart, your raw and beautiful heart. You are willing to open up, without resistance or shyness, and face the world … If a person does not feel alone and sad, he cannot be a [spiritual] warrior at all…

All that interior violence and complication to defend themselves from the very tenderness.

Go to sleep," he says softly. His hand brushes the lose strands of my hair off my forehead. Unlike the staged kisses and caresses so far, this gesture seems natural and comforting. I don't want him to stop and he doesn't. He's still stroking my hair when I fall asleep.

I reach out to touch his cheek and he catches my hand and presses it against his lips.

I lean over and put my good ear to his lips, which tickle me as he whispers. "Remember, we're madly in love, so it's all right to kiss me any time you like it.

Frankly, I could use a little sugarcoating.

I wrap my arms tightly around his neck before he can order me to do push-ups or something. Instead he pulls me in close and buries his face in my hair. Warmth radiates from the spot where his lips just touch my neck, slowly spreading through the rest of me. It feels so good, so impossibly good, that I know I will not be the first to let go.

wrap my arms tightly around his neck before he can order me to do push-ups or something. Instead he pulls me in close and buries his face in my hair. Warmth radiates from the spot where his lips just touch my neck, slowly spreading through the rest of me. It feels so good, so impossibly good, that I know I will not be the first to let go.

Alice couldn't help smiling. She'd never known anyone like Brett before - certainly none of the lads in the village. They wouldn't dream of talking so openly or tenderly to a woman. Christ, they'd more likely talk lovingly to their bloody cows before they would their girlfriend

Love keeps the heart forever warm.

Holy hug is a soft kiss.

She brushed the tears from their faces and sang them a melancholy lullaby. Her obvious devotion to her daughters pulled at my heart strings, making my chest ache with longing for my own mother.

A tearless heart is a callous heart.

Kindness is like a warm blanket of snow, softly covering and gently touching the heart.

Without love and compassion, nothing is sacred.

He was in love, and never had he felt such kindness towards another person.

I love silent conversations accompanied by a soft caress on my skin and my head on your chest listening to your heart desires.

And do I still have that look?" he asked."Yes just there, " she kissed his eye. "The desire to love me is still there. If you look closely you can see mine for you, my tears never washed it away.

There's no more perfect way to fall asleep then having my arms wrapped around her while I breathe in her peaches and cream scent that is mixed with the scent of us and sweat.

And I remember quiet evenings trembling close to you...