Quotes Tagged "romance"

Maybe I am everything I knew that I would never be. I looked back at Jay and smiled.

You scare me, Ryan Daley. Even more than those demons outside that scream for my death. How is it that I want what you want? I’ve spent an eternity feeling powerless. Love did that to me — robbed me of all control. I never expected to feel this way again. I don’t want to feel.’ ‘Neither did I,’ Ryan rasps, ‘because feeling anything at all was dangerous. If I let myself feel, then maybe I’d have to believe what everyone was saying — that Lauren was dead. But from the moment I laid eyes on “Carmen, you kept getting under my skin. At first, all you did was irritate the hell out of me, bailing me up that way outside my house, inviting yourself along for the ride when all I wanted was to be left alone. But that irritation turned into curiosity, which turned into something else, becoming this chain of, of … feeling that brought me here. I dropped everything for you. I veered left. And I’d do it again in a second. That’s what “feeling” does. It tells you you’re alive, it gives things … I don’t know, proper meaning. You’re still trying to maintain some veneer of independence? Toughness? Do words like that even apply to you? But I see through it, Mercy. I see through you. You’re not that different from me after all, under your armour. Crumbs, Mercy, that’s all I’m after. Just crumbs. It’s not a lot to ask for.

Gradually the mist had lifted, and the sun burst forth, a ball of fire radiating the sky with unnaturally incandescent hues. Coral was reminded of the strident brushwork and wild colours of the Fauvist paintings that filled her mother's gallery, which Coral had always loved. The scene was now set for the show to begin: the drama in which the broad, breath-taking landscapes of Africa were the stage and the animals the actors.

Oh heaven and hell, stop with the tears. Given the day Sarah had just had, the tears were logical. But watching her face crumple, hearing the gut-deep harsh sobs, filled Rukh with an irrational need to pull her into his arms, wrap her in a hug. As soon as the urge had gelled into conscious thought, his essence hardened into visibility and his arms slid up around her shivering, wet body. Sarah’s eyes popped open and she staggered back with a yell. His arms tightened around her, steadying her, keeping her close. Well, shit. At least, she’d stopped crying. Fear-bright green eyes stared at him instead. Given he was an assassin, sent to kill her, her response was natural, even intelligent. Yet, bitterness churned in his gut at the thought of her fearing him. “It’s okay,” he whispered. “You’re safe.” “Am I hallucinating?” Her question came out as a croak. “Yes, yes you are.” That seemed a much better answer than the truth. She pinned him with her dark, direct gaze. “You’re just a figment of my imagination. A fantasy?” “Yes.” He didn’t dare move. “Then why are you still wearing clothes?

I imagine I should have told it to you before? I love you, Sejal.I wish for you to become my wife.Recently I’ve also opened a shop in North Dakota and thinking that, just maybe, you love me too.

He emerged out of the lake, the declining sun drenching him with aureate light, the droplets on his body iridescent in their beams. He walked confidently toward her, almost every inch of his sculptured body exposed in his black swimsuit. Each sharp contour of muscle glistened, each limb unfolded with lithe grace as he approached, his eyes riveted on her. Coral watched spellbound, a yearning surging up within her, eager and expectant. The air around them trembled with infinite anticipation.

Lui sta armeggiando in macchina cercando di liberare la piccola dalle cinture del seggiolino. La bimba sembra essersi svegliata, ma lui è bravo, le parla dolcemente e lei non piange e si lascia andare persino a un risolino. «Forse ci vorrebbe del latte» faccio io raggiungendoli, come se di bambini capissi tutto. «Yeah» risponde lui. Yeah? Poi annuisce e mi chiede cortesemente di prendere la borsa rosa che è in macchina. Obbedisco e trotterello dietro di lui in casa. Red, dall’alto del suo palco reale, segue la scena un po’ seccato e commenta con un miao altezzoso. Forse invidioso. Fuck you, Red.

I am also an author. Please check out my novel, A Life Worth Dreaming About.

...so Leola thought that a modest romance with a hero in embryo could do no harm - might even be a patriotic duty.

How dare you! What is your name? I shall make it a sin to be spoken.” The braveness of his chuckle and grin made me step back. “Garrett. My name is Garrett and please make my name a sin to speak. Maybe that way I won’t have people like you screaming out for people like me; for people like you are so ghastly and in need of saving too many times.” Lucy to Garrett from my Steampunk YA Romance book I have started.

Sabrina Thomas clutched the leather-bound notebook to her chest and tried not to be impatient as the elevator in the south tower of Texas Hospital near downtown Dallas stopped once again on its climb to the eighteenth and top floor. But it was difficult. Dr. Cade Mathis, the bane of her existence, would reach Mrs. Ward’s room first and then there’d be hell to pay. Sabrina jabbed the button to close the doors as soon as the last person stepped onto the already crowded elevator.

Sono stata ammaliata dal fascino sfacciato e intrigante della Belle Epoque. Sfacciato perché, per la prima volta, in quell’epoca le distinzioni di classe perdevano d’importanza davanti all’irrompere dei tempi moderni. In effetti lo stile di vita borghese si evolve raggiungendo e talvolta superando in splendore, classe e mondanità l’aristocrazia medesima. Intrigante in quanto l’umanità accoglie unanime un rinnovamento sociale, culturale, tecnico, artistico senza precedenti.

It's me being me making you be you...

No sentimentality, no romance, no false hope, no self-petting lies, merely that which is!

And for a moment there, despite the bruising, despite the snarled dirty hair, despite her sunburned skin and the suffering in her eyes that she refused to let defeat her, she was one of the prettiest things he'd ever seen. ~Dallas and Amy~

Better this way, what remained of his battered sensibilities told him. He was no good for her, anyway. She didn’t understand him. She didn’t understand that he was cursed. And, selfish as he was, he’d rather she hate him than he hate himself any more than he was already going to. Any more than he already did.

I believe in love at first sight, and I believe that’s what we’ve got going here. I was willing to die for you. I’m sure as hell not going to pass up a chance to live with you.

I remember every good thing about you. Every sweet and perfect thing. And nothing else.” He touched her chin, tipped it up to look into her wet brown eyes. Even smudged, they were gorgeous. The dawning light in them filled his heart, and healed it. “Nothing else.

What is it?” “You have to promise you'll never leave me.” “Okay.” Jordan grinned, delighted at her easy agreement.

Caine might have smiled at her, had his heart not been breaking to smithereens inside of him.