Admit Your Love Quotes & Sayings

At least we won the damn game."

"True. Our record still blows, though."

"It's a fucking bummer, man. My Hurricanes have a better record, and they're frickin' middle-schoolers."

"Your Hurricanes?" He grins. "Dude, admit it. You're in love with those kidlets."

"Fuck off. I just have fun coaching - "

"You both need to go!" Wellsy announces, a mix of annoyance and exasperation on her face. — Elle Kennedy

7. But what kind of love is it, really? Don't fool yourself and call it sublimity. Admit that you have stood in front of a little pile of powdered ultramarine pigment in a glass cup at a museum and felt a stinging desire. But to do what? Liberate it? Purchase it? Ingest it? ... You might want to reach out and disturb the pile of pigment, for example, first staining your fingers with it, then staining the world. You might want to dilute it and swim in it, you might want to rouge your nipples with it, you might want to paint a virgin's robe with it. But still you wouldn't be accessing the blue of it. Not exactly. — Maggie Nelson

Learn to spot and avoid "writer groupies." The writer's self-sufficiency and our love for our work tend to attract insecure people who never can get enough love. They grow jealous of our work and come to regard it as a rival. These people can destroy you, so kick them out of your life or don't admit them in the first place. — Florence King

Am I on your page?" Jesse asked.
Rosie knew Jesse liked her, loved her, maybe, but this was not about that.
"Yes," Rosie said, making eye contact with Jesse. "How could you not be on my page? ... (But) even though we are on the same page, we see the page differently," Rosie had continued, enjoying the moment, "my page -- which I admit you are on -- is not the page that you think you are on. You will never see the page the same as me. You cannot look through my eyes and see what I see. — Denny Taylor

He reached across the car and took my hand. "I know I haven't been around as much," he said, "but after today, my schedule won't be so busy."
"I understand," I said softly. And I did. "Football is your life. It's your dream."
He made a sound. "You're just as important to me."
I smiled. "I have to admit I won't be upset when this game is over and all the girls around here stop wearing your number all over their bodies."
His white teeth flashed. "Is someone jealous?"
I snorted.
His smile grew wider.
"Maybe a little," I admitted.
He lunged forward and in seconds had me in his lap, my legs straddling him so we were face to face. He buried his hands in my tangled disaster of hair. I admit I hadn't even brushed it when we got out of bed this morning.
"You're my favorite girl," he whispered.
"I better be your only girl."
He smiled. "That too. — Cambria Hebert

To keep your marriage brimming, with love in the wedding cup, whenever you're wrong, admit it; whenever you're right, shut up. — Ogden Nash

it is funny how things are always perfect as long as you keep quiet. And then, what's the point in having an awesome lover when you do not let yourself admit it, even to your closest friends? And, if you do not kiss and tell, are your affairs real, or nothing more than bedroom distractions; check-in before midnight, check-out before 9 AM? — Gina Wings

Love is not enough. It takes courage to grab my father's demon, my own, or - God help me - my child's and strap it down and stop its mad jig; to sit in a row of white rooms filled with pills and clubbed dreamers and shout: stop smiling, shut up; shut up and stop laughing; you're sitting in hell. Stop preaching; stop weeping. You are a manic-depressive, always. your life is larger than most, unimaginable. You're blessed; just admit it and take the damn pill. — David Lovelace

I Don't Even Like Him - How Can I Pray for Him? Have you ever been so mad at your husband that the last thing you wanted to do was pray for him? So have I. It's hard to pray for someone when you're angry or he's hurt you. But that's exactly what God wants us to do. If He asks us to pray for our enemies, how much more should we be praying for the person with whom we have become one and are supposed to love? But how do we get past the unforgiveness and critical attitude? The first thing to do is be completely honest with God. In order to break down the walls in our hearts and smash the barriers that stop communication, we have to be totally up-front with the Lord about our feelings. We don't have to "pretty it up" for Him. He already knows the truth. He just wants to see if we're willing to admit it and confess it as disobedience to His ways. If so, He — Stormie O'martian

And yes, I'll admit, I am jealous. I'm jealous of every minute you spend with him, of every concerned expression you send his way, of every tear shed, of every glance, every touch, and every thought. I want to rip him to pieces and purge him from your mind and from your heart. But I can't. — Colleen Houck

Though your vulgarian does not readily admit that feelings can change overnight, certainly two lovers often part far more abruptly than they came together. — Honore De Balzac

I don't need you sensitive, Skulduggery. I need you aloof and irresponsible and arrogant. That's why I love you. That's why I let you hang out with me."
"I'm truly blessed."
She grinned. "You love me, too. Once you admit it, everything will be better."
"They're about to hook up the Cube to the Accelerator," he said, and turned and walked off.
She followed. "You can't run from your feelings."
"I can walk from them. — Derek Landy

My name is Pride. I am a cheater. I cheat you of your God-given destiny ... because you demand your own way. I cheat you of contentment ... because you "deserve better than this." I cheat you of knowledge ... because you already know it all. I cheat you of healing ... because you're too full of me to forgive. I cheat you of holiness ... because you refuse to admit when you're wrong. I cheat you of vision ... because you'd rather look in the mirror than out a window. I cheat you of genuine friendship ... because nobody's going to know the real you. I cheat you of love ... because real romance demands sacrifice. I cheat you of greatness in heaven ... because you refuse to wash another's feet on earth. I cheat you of God's glory ... because I convince you to seek your own. My name is Pride. I am a cheater. You like me because you think I'm always looking out for you. Untrue. — Beth Moore

It's not politically correct to say that you love one child more than you love your others. I love all of my kids, period, and they're all your favorites in different ways. But ask any parent who's been through some kind of crisis surrounding a child
a health scare, an academic snarl, an emotional problem
and we will tell you the truth. When something upends the equilibrium
when one child needs you more than the others
that imbalance becomes a black hole. You may never admit it out loud, but the one you love the most is the one who needs you more desperately than his siblings. What we really hope is that each child gets a turn. That we have deep enough reserves to be there for each of them, at different times.
All this goes to hell when two of your children are pitted against each other, and both of them want you on their side. — Jodi Picoult

Ha. Admit it: you don't have the slightest idea what you are doing, you never ever did. With all the nets in the world, real or unreal. You swam around in a flashing confused school following the tail of the fish in front. Pretty much. Nibbling at whatever passed, in whatever current you swam into.
Even the love of your life felt like luck, like she might vanish in the finning crowd at any moment. Which she did. — Peter Heller

Addiction is the hallmark of every infatuation-based love story. It all begins when the object of your adoration bestows upon you a heady, hallucinogenic dose of something you never even dared to admit that you wanted - an emotional speedball, perhaps, of thunderous love and roiling excitement. Soon you start craving that intense attention, with the hungry obsession of any junkie. When the drug is withheld, you promptly turn sick, crazy and depleted (not to mention resentful of the dealer who encouraged this addiction in the first place but who now refuses to pony up the good stuff anymore - despite ... — Elizabeth Gilbert

If I was on a march at the moment I would be saying to everyone: 'Be honest with each other. Admit there are limitless possibilities in relationships, and love as many people as you can in whatever way you want, and get rid of your inhibitions, and we'll all be happy. — Ian McKellen

Anything you see in me is in you. If you want to see a vicious killer, that's who you'll see, do you understand that? If you see me as your brother, that's what I'll be. It all depends on how much love you have. I am you, and when you can admit that, you will be free. I am just a mirror. — Charles Manson

You have it on your noise, but you still need a glass to see it ... We need others to admit our faults. — Amen Muffler

I grab her by the hips and pull her closer. "The only difference between falling in love and being in love is that your heart already knows how you feel, but your mind is too stubborn to admit it." Then I whisper in her ear. "But take all the time you need. I have nothing but patience for you. — Colleen Hoover

The first rule of snooping is to come at it sideways
when you began writing me dizzy letters about Alexander, I didn't ask if you were in love with him, I asked what his favorite animal was. And your answer told me everything I needed to know about him
how many men would admit that they loved ducks? — Annie Barrows

Make peace with God. Confess what you need to and then forget about it. God says he will remove your sins as far as the east is from the west when you confess them and admit you were wrong. He puts them out of his mind and you should too. There is no sense beating yourself up over something that you can't change. Like the Serenity prayer says, "God help me accept the things I cannot change." Amen. — Lisa Bedrick

I love travelling, but I have to admit I didn't initially take to Agra in India. As soon as you arrive, someone wants to show you around, take your bags or sell you something - and it's just a bit of a culture shock. You just have to make the necessary mental adjustment to the setting. — Dexter Fletcher

And although this (marital love) cannot be portrayed artistically, then let your consolation be, as it is mine, that we are not to read about or listen to or look at what is highest and the most beautiful in life, but are, if you please, to live it.
Therefore, when I readily admit that romantic love lends itself much better to artistic portrayal than marital love, this does not at all mean that it is less esthetic than the other - on the contrary, it is more esthetic. — Soren Kierkegaard

Given her choice of any three words to hear from Logan's lips, Maddie probably would have chosen I love you. But she had to admit, Lift your skirts had an undeniable appeal. — Tessa Dare

I'm passing the bar
Where you first got in my car
I'm not ashamed to admit
That it's you I won't forget

I saved your cigarettes and
Bad habits I regret
But the hours flew by like clouds
Whenever I had you around

Parachute lover
Take me away
From the plane that went crashing
And the earth that's in flames

Saving you is saving me
High above the redwood trees
But down below I see shadows
And parachute debris

We're drifting like children
Along for the ride
Each time we find love
Another parachute arrives

Our madness will burn
As bright as the sun
And I'll keep finding lovers
But you were the one — Crystal Woods

There's a nonsensical dichotomy that exists within you after you break up with someone - especially if it's someone you loved deeply. A large part of you hopes they'll move on, be happy, follow their dreams to the fullest.
That's the side you show the world.
But a smaller part of you, whether you admit its existence or not, secretly and selfishly yearns for a reality in which that person would never move on. Never forget your love, or replace you with someone else; never be fully complete again, without you by their side.
That's the side we hide away, the innermost part of ourselves that we push down below the socially-acceptable responses to heartbreak. — Julie Johnson

I had been much more in love with my wife than she with me, that was all. Somehow, you were supposed to be ashamed of this, as though love were a perpetual jostling for the roles of pursuer and pursued. As if it didn't take more courage to admit that someone held your hopes of happiness in their hands. As if it were a choice. — Amanda Craig

I don't ever dream about you and me
I don't ever make up stuff about us
That would be considered insanity
I don't ever drive by your house
To see if you're in
I don't even have an opinion
On that tramp that you are still seeing
I don't know your timetable
I don't know your face off by heart
But I must admit that there's still a part of me
That thinks we might get on — Kate Nash

No woman could ever give me what you have," he said softly. "I'll spend eternity loving you, Synthia. And tormenting you in my bed, until you admit who your master is," he finished.
"I have no master," I whispered sleepily. "I'll have a husband soon, and the love of my life. No master though," I continued.
"I guess we're not done here," he replied roguishly. — Amelia Hutchins

Maybe that's what love is all about. Being humble enough to admit you can't make it on your own. You need a person in order to call a place home. You need love to save you from yourself. You need to love another person so you give a little something every day. — Katie Kacvinsky

An overwhelming curiosity makes me ask myself what their lives might be like. I want to know what they do, where they're from, their names, what they're thinking about at that moment, what they regret, what they hope for, their past loves, their current dreams ... and if they happen to be women (especially the young ones) then the urge becomes intense.
How quickly would you want to see her naked, admit it, and naked through to her heart. How you try to learn where she comes from, where she's going, why she's here and not elsewhere!
While letting your eyes wander all over her, you imagine love affairs for her, you ascribe her deep feelings. You think of the bedroom she must have, and a thousand things besides ... right down to the battered slippers into which she must slip her feet when she gets out of bed. — Gustave Flaubert

Fiona, my love, as much as I adore you, I cannot stand your brothers. Any of them."
"Gregor is much nicer now that he's married. Even you must admit that."
"Only when Venetia is with him. When she's not, he's as annoying as ever."
Fiona's lips quirked into a smile, her green eyes gleaming. "Rather like you, I hear."
"Who has been carrying tales?"
"Everyone." She placed her hand on her husband's cheek and smiled up into his blue eyes. With his dark auburn hair and devastating good looks, "Black Jack" Kincaid had once been the scourge of London's polite society. Now he was her own personal scourge, one she couldn't imagine living without. — Karen Hawkins

Be flexible. Be compassionate. Rules can never cure insecurity. Integrity matters. Never try to script what your relationships will look like. Love is abundant. Compatibility matters. You cannot sacrifice your happiness for that of another. Own your own shit. Admit when you fuck up. Forgive when others fuck up. Don't try to find people to stuff into the empty spaces in your life; instead, make spaces for the people in your life. If you need a relationship to complete you, get a dog. It is almost impossible to be loving or compassionate when all you feel is fear of loss. Trust that your partners want to be with you, and that if given the freedom to do anything they please, they will choose to cherish and support you. Most relationship problems can be avoided by good partner selection. Nobody can give you security or self-esteem; you have to build that yourself. — Franklin Veaux

Batter my heart, three-person'd God ; for you
As yet but knock ; breathe, shine, and seek to mend ;
That I may rise, and stand, o'erthrow me, and bend
Your force, to break, blow, burn, and make me new.
I, like an usurp'd town, to another due,
Labour to admit you, but O, to no end.
Reason, your viceroy in me, me should defend,
But is captived, and proves weak or untrue.
Yet dearly I love you, and would be loved fain,
But am betroth'd unto your enemy ;
Divorce me, untie, or break that knot again,
Take me to you, imprison me, for I,
Except you enthrall me, never shall be free,
Nor ever chaste, except you ravish me. — John Donne

To love, you have to admit your lack, and recognise that you need the other, that you miss him or her. — Jacques-Alain Miller

You must be fierce and admit to love, my dear girl. It is the only way to win. And if you do lose, well, at least you lose fairly, with your head high and with no regrets. How could you possibly feel shame for leading with your heart? It is simply the bravest thing anyone can do in this world. — Jennifer Probst

You're my best friend and I love you. I'm not ashamed to admit that I love a guy. I love you, Holder. Daniel Weasley loves Dean Holder. Always and forever."
"Daniel, go make out with your girlfriend," he says, waving me off.
I shake my head. "Not until you tell me you love me, too."
His head falls back against Sky's headboard. "I fucking love you, now GO AWAY!"
I grin. "I love you more. — Colleen Hoover

No, of course not ... Why, you love him! Your fear, your terror, all of that is just love and love of the most exquisite kind, the kind which people do not admit even to themselves. The kind that gives you a thrill, when you think of it ... Picture it: a man who lives in a palace underground! - Raoul — Gaston Leroux

Come on, admit it, Pooky Bear," I said to the sword. "You love your new look. All the other swords will be jealous. — Susan Ee

He turned her chin until she looked him in the face. "I'm going to tell you a couple things, and I want you to remember this. Number one, I'm a Navy SEAL. You can't even compare me to most men, so don't lump me in with them." He waited for her laughter to subside. "Number two, I don't care what you've been told or by whom. Your body fucking rocks. Men don't want to make love to twigs. Way more than will admit it want a lush, cushioning body to welcome them home." Reaching out, he cupped her hips in his hands, tugging her into him. "I would not change anything about you. Not one single thing. — J.M. Madden

Is there such a thing as a life without any regrets? I've never believed so. We spend our lives aiming for happiness and fulfilment in work, in love and with our friends and family, and yet often our energy is spent lamenting bad boyfriends, wrong career turns, fallouts with friends and opportunities missed. Or is that just me? I admit I'm naturally a glass-half-empty kind of girl, but I know regrets are a burden to happiness and I'm trying to let go of them because I've learned that it's all about choice. You can choose to turn regrets into lessons that change your future. Believe me when I say I'm really trying to do this. But the truth is, I'm failing. Because all I can think right now is: maybe I deserve it. Maybe this is my penance. — Ali Harris

But I could not fully admit it, even then. The way Suzanne's face looked as she watched him - I wanted to be with her. I thought that loving someone acted as a kind of protective measure, like they'd understand the scale and intensity of your feelings and act accordingly. — Emma Cline

You become a man when you marry not just for love but to be a partner with your wife. To be the best man you can be with her, and when you fall short, to admit your shortcomings and to constantly strive to be a great man to your wife. — Carew Papritz

Ugh," Turner groans from the kitchen. "That skinny tramp can go fuck herself. She doesn't stand a chance. Even if I wasn't fucking committed to marrying your ass making tiny Turner babies, she's a little below my usual standards." Naomi's eyes narrow, and I can't hold back my smile. God, I love the shit out of these stupid assholes. I hope they buy a house down the street from me, so I can watch Naomi throwing Turner's stuff out on the lawn every other Christmas. I don't admit to myself that in that fantasy, Lola Saints is in the kitchen with nothing but an apron on. — C.M. Stunich

Why, you love him! Your fear, your terror, all of that is just love and love of the most exquisite kind, the kind which people do not admit even to themselves. — Gaston Leroux

And how do you explain to your wife that you don't have all the answers, and that you might not know what you are doing, and that you are afraid you are going to fail? How do you admit that you are most afraid that, one day, she'll walk - and replace you with an educated, professor-type guy, who shares her same interests, schedule, and the way she was used to living, especially when all of your friends, your business associates, even your own damned brother, are all just waiting for you to mess up so they can have a shot at taking her away from you? How do you look the woman you love in her eyes and tell her that? — Leslie Esdaile

Who's to blame when your kid goes nuts? Is it a blessing to not have children? 'We Need to Talk About Kevin' became a hit cult book for women without offspring who were finally able to admit they didn't want to give birth. They felt complete, thank you very much, and lived in silent resentment for years at other women's pious, unwanted sympathy toward them for not having babies. With even gay couples having children these days, aren't happy heterosexual women who don't want to have kids the most ostracized of us all? To me they are beautiful feminists. If you're not sure you could love your children, please don't have them, because they might grow up and kill us. — John Waters

Endless longing; a face you'd known since childhood, since birth almost; a body that moved as though it were your own. These were things you never spoke of, things you never hoped for; things you could never admit to. Things you'd die for, and die of. — Elizabeth Hand

every heterosexual boy - and probably some gay ones, too, so look out, because that's just going to end in disaster - you ever meet is going to fall madly in love with you. He may not admit it, but it's true. So you have to take responsibility for that and not do things to encourage him - unless, of course, you want him to fall in love with you. Because it's cruel to play with boys' emotions in that way, because no matter what anyone else says, men are the weaker sex.' Didn't your mother tell you that? — Meg Cabot

Those dreaming of the perfect match are outnumbered by those who don't really want it at all, though perhaps they can't admit it. After all, our culture makes individual freedom, autonomy and fulfillment the very highest values, and thoughtful people know deep down that any love relationship at all means the loss of all three. You can say, 'I want someone who will accept me just as I am,' but in your heart of hearts you know that you are not perfect, that there are plenty of things about you that need to be changed, and that anyone who gets to know you up close and personal will want to change them. — Timothy Keller

That's the funny thing," she said. "Men always want to die for something. For someone. I can see the appeal. You do it once and it's done. No more worrying, not knowing, about tomorrow and tomorrow and tomorrow. I know you all think it sounds brave, but I'll tell you something even braver. To struggle and fight for the ones you love today. And then do it all over again the next day. Every day. For your whole life. It's not as romantic, I admit. But it takes a lot of courage to live for someone, too. — Victor LaValle

harbinger, n.
When I was in third grade, we would play that game at recess where you'd twist an apple while holding on to its stem, reciting the alphabet, one letter for each turn. When the stem broke, the name of your true love would be revealed. Whenever I played, I always made sure that the apple broke at K. At the time I was doing this because no one in my grade had a name that began with K. Then, in college, it seemed like everyone I fell for was a K. It was enough to make me give up on the letter, and I didn't even associate it with you until later on, when I saw your signature on a credit card receipt, and the only legible letter was that first K. I will admit: When I got home that night, I went to the refrigerator and took out another apple. But I stopped twisting at J and put the apple back. You see, I didn't trust myself. I knew that even if the apple wasn't ready, I was going to pull that stem — David Levithan

At any other time it's better. You can do the things you feel you should; you're an expert at going through the motions. Your handshakes with strangers are firm and your gaze never wavers; you think of steel and diamonds when you stare. In monotone you repeat the legendary words of long-dead lovers to those you claim to love; you take them into bed with you, and you mimic the rhythmic motions you've read of in manuals. When protocol demands it you dutifully drop to your knees and pray to a god who no longer exists. But in this hour you must admit to yourself that this is not enough, that you are not good enough. And when you knock your fist against your chest you hear a hollow ringing echo, and all your thoughts are accompanied by the ticks of clockwork spinning behind your eyes, and everything you eat and drink has the aftertaste of rust. — Dexter Palmer

Tonight I love you in a way that you have not known in me: I am neither worn down by travels nor wrapped up in the desire for your presence. I am mastering my love for you and turning it inwards as a constituent element of myself. This happens much more often than I admit to you, but seldom when I'm writing to you. Try to understand me: I love you while paying attention to external things. At Toulouse I simply loved you. Tonight I love you on a spring evening. I love you with the window open. You are mine, and things are mine, and my love alters the things around me and the things around me alter my love. — Jean-Paul Sartre

When a woman tells me she loves my dresses. These women have nothing to gain to tell you that they love your dresses. A lot of professional women admit dressing for work previously was such a challenge. It's these moments for me that are so rewarding. — Sarah Lafleur

Don't you love my idealism? My hypocrisy? My willingness to sound as loving and naive as possible? At least I know that I don't know anything at all. I can admit it. Can you? Can you look yourself in the mirror in the morning and admit that you are no different from every other bundle of bones on this planet? And maybe the only things that make you different are your hands, the way you touch things, and what happens to them. — Zoe Trope

What you don't even realize now - what you will only come to understand in time, but lucky for you, I'm here to tell you - is you're not going to give two shits about this band in a few years. In fact, I guarantee that this group that you admire so much and that you are putting all of your love and dedication and devotion into will be nothing more than an obsession you will be immensely embarrassed of having had. One day you'll be in college, maybe you'll be at a party, and someone will say, 'Hey, do you remember The Ruperts? How shitty was their music?' and you will have a moment of crisis: Do you admit your former love for them, or do you concede, because you know in your heart that this person is right? And guess what you'll say? You'll say, 'Yeah, their music was utter. Putrid.Garbage. — Goldy Moldavsky

I love Nicki Minaj, I told her I'd admit it, I hope one day we get married just to say we f-cking did it and girl I'm f-cking serious, I'm with it if you with it, cause your verses turn me on and your pants are mighty fitted — Drake

Words are great, but even I can admit they have certain short-comings. No word can ever give justice to a smile from a man who never smiled or to an old woman who gives up her seat on the bus to a soldier who lost his leg. And I'm still convinced there's no word out there for the feeling you get the first time you ever hit home plate or bury your first dog or muster up enough courage to tell a girl you love her. — Laura Miller

The only difference between falling in love and being in love is that your heart already knows how you feel, but your mind is too stubborn to admit it. — Colleen Hoover

In spite of your lies and deceit, I admit I do love you darling, I really do. But I must leave you anyway, because there is nothing left within you that I can live with. — Tonny K. Brown

Sadly, I have to admit, my timing sucks. Not the best - or most romantic - idea to tell your woman "I love you" for the first time whilst impaling the crap out of her. — Jacquelyn Ayres

It's called being in love. It's more frightening than confronting your deepest fear and opens you to being hurt beyond the physical plane." He placed a hand over his heart. "It might seem as though it's a weakness to you but it is proof that we are more than numbers, experiments, or whatever else Mercile intended us to be. It takes bravery and strength to feel such strong emotions for one person when we were denied from birth the chance to ever care about anything or anyone. I'm not saying it's easy or painless. It is probably one of the most complex things I've experienced. Jessie is my life. My heart beats for her and I will admit to all that I wouldn't want to go on if I lost her. The unmated ones don't understand and are currently looking confused or horrified. I'm hopeful they'll know the ups and downs of falling in love one day. It's a gift and a curse at times but everyone should experience it. It's a part of life and we are survivors. — Laurann Dohner

Borderline means you're one of those girls ...
... who walk around wearing long sleeves in the summer because you've carved up your forearms over your boyfriend. You make pathetic suicidal gestures and write bad poetry about them, listen to Ani DiFranco albums on endless repeat, end up in the emergency room for overdoses, scare off boyfriends by insisting they tell you that they love you five hundred times a day and hacking into their email to make sure they're not lying, have a police record for shoplifting, and your tooth enamel is eroded from purging. You've had five addresses and eight jobs in three years, your friends are avoiding your phone calls, you're questioning your sexuality, and the credit card companies are after you. It took a lot of years to admit that I was exactly that girl, and that the diagnostic criteria for the disorder were essentially an outline of my life. — Stacy Pershall

Don't pretend, Bianca," he said. "You're smarter than that, and so am I. I finally figured out what you meant when you left. You said you were like Hester. I get it now. The first time you came to my house, when we wrote that paper, you said Hester was trying to escape. But everything caught up with Hester in the end, didn't it? Well, something finally caught up with you, but you're just running away again. Only, he"-Wesley pointed to my bedroom door-"is your escape this time." He took a step toward me, forcing me to crane my neck even more to see his face. "Admit it, Duffy."
"Admit what?"
"That you're running away from me," he said. "You realized you're in love with me and you bailed because it scared the shit out of you. — Kody Keplinger

Now, about Markham V. Reynolds (Junior). Your questions regarding that gentleman are very delicate, very subtle, very much like being smacked in the head with a mallet. Am I in love with him? What kind of a question is that? It's a tuba among the flutes, and I expect better of you. The first rule of snooping is to come at it sideways - when you began writing me dizzy letters about Alexander, I didn't ask if you were in love with him, I asked what his favorite animal was. And your answer told me everything I needed to know about him - how many men would admit that they loved ducks? (This brings up an important point: I don't know what Mark's favorite animal is. I doubt it's a duck.) — Mary Ann Shaffer

I hate to admit it, but sometimes I think he's right. When you kiss someone, it's the first taste of his mouth that will make or break your heart. — Justin Chin

While I'd been plagued by nightmares of Jonathan's unrest in the hereafter, it was only now that I'd seen Adair again - and seen him so changed - that I could admit, even to myself, that it was him I daydreamed of, who I longed for, who I ached for, physically. That was how I'd betrayed Luke - in my desire for Adair. It wasn't so uncommon, was it? Living with one man while your mind is on another? Being unable to stop thinking of this other man who, for one reason or another, was not the one sitting beside you. Thinking of the way his eyes lit up when he saw you, of his wicked smile and what it was like when he held you, how you responded to the touch of his hands. In solitary moments, you remembered the little intimacies, the feel of his skin against yours, the way he liked to be touched, the velvet nap of his member, the way he tasted. You thought of him even though you could never be with him. His absence nagged like an itch you could never scratch. — Alma Katsu

It sounds schmaltzy to say, but fiction is much more to do with love than people admit or acknowledge. The novelist has to not only love his characters - which you do, without even thinking about it, just as you love your children. But also to love the reader, and that's what I mean by the pleasure principle. — Martin Amis

Did you ever think she was your mate?" Lucas asked unable to help himself.
Clyde tensed, seemingly caught off-guard by the question. "I knew she wasn't mine," he said then exhaled. "Angels don't mate, remember?"
"Then why did you make it so hard for her?"
"For her or for you?"
"For her. I couldn't care less how hard you made it for me."
"Because I love her," Clyde responded simply. Lucas' jaw clenched then he exhaled, acknowledging that hearing another man admit he loved Jenna would never get easier.
"Not the way you do, but I love her. I wanted what was best for her. I thought you weren't it," Clyde added then turned to walk away. He paused and spun back around. "One more thing. If you ever hurt her, I'll kill you."
Lucas let the fire in his heart fill his eyes. He would never hurt Jenna; they both knew it. "I know. That's one of the reasons I haven't killed you myself. — J.L. Sheppard

Why is it so embarrassing to admit you like someone? It should be a compliment to them, and even if they don't like you back, they should at least commend you on your refined taste. — Dalya Moon

Love simply is - it asks no permissions. Acceptance is all love asks, the only demand it makes, but it is an absolute one. You can either admit it to your heart or refuse it, but there's no other option. — Stephanie Laurens

I didn't know how much I could love until you were gone. Until your laughter no longer filled my home, your wicked high jinks no longer made me crazy. Until I stood in that damned club and knew, without you by side, my life was as empty as my bed was without you in it. I didn't know what love was, until I saw my refusal to admit it drown all the sweet innocence in your eyes. I love you. — Lora Leigh

We said a week, right?" Saint asks me.
"A week for ... " I'm confused for a moment, but then I remember our conversation onboard The Toy, about him ... and me. And I know exactly what he means. "Oh, that." A hot flush creeps along my body, spreading down, down, down, all the way to my toes. "Yes, that's what we said," I admit.
"How about now?" he surprises me by saying.
Tingles and lightning bolts race through my bloodstream. The sensation covers my body from corner to corner. I try to suppress it; it's wrong to feel it. But I can't stop it, I can't stop what he does to me. "What happened to your legendary patience?"
"How about now, Rachel?" he insists.
All my guilt, my insecurities, and my fear are suddenly weighing down on me. It's really hard to speak as I shake my head in the dark. "I'm a mess, Saint," I choke out.
"Be my mess, then. — Katy Evans