Good Sweetheart Quotes & Sayings

I saw Pete standing there.
I held my breath at the bright in his eyes as he looked between us.
Those eyes landed on me.
"Fuck, sweetheart, so good to have you back," he whispered.
I made a noise as I choked back the tears and moved out of Logan's hold toward Big Petey.
His arms closed around me tight.
Folded in the arms of Chaos.
Oh yes.
I'd come home. — Kristen Ashley

Grandma smiled brightly. "How lovely! It seems your whore has arrived."
Jake groaned and covered his face with his hands. There was no way out of it. His grandmother was going to get him shot.
A&E women scorned, here I come.
"Excuse me?" Aileen put her hands on her hips and did a weird head nod at Grandma, and nearly teetered off her high heels. Oh, this wasn't good. Not good at all.
Grandma reached out and patted Aileen's arm. "Sweetheart, I'm the one with hearing aids, not you. I called you a whore. Would you like me to spell it for you, too?" She nudged Jake. "What did you do? Find her at a high school career fair?" And then in a horrifyingly loud voice she began spelling. "W-H-O-R-E. — Rachel Van Dyken

Sweetheart, listen carefully, when I say that I don't need anybody but you, what I mean is that I never have. I need you. I've never needed anyone or anything the way I need you. I need you in a way that would break me if I lost you. Being with you makes every part of my life better. Every second I get with you is the best second of my life. I'm not good at expressing myself, not like you are, but I treasure this thing between us. Don't think I don't. — R.K. Lilley

Most people are genuinely good, sweetheart, and even the evil ones have some good in them. -Shannon Hale — Shannon Hale

Sweetheart, the right guy will make you a priority. If you find yourself feeling like you're not good enough, it's because he's not good enough. — Steve Maraboli

In the kitchen, her family nibbled Helen's lemon squares. Melanie urged brownies on the nurses. "Take these," she told Lorraine. "We can't eat them all, but Helen won't stop baking."
"Sweetheart," Lorraine said, "everybody mourns in her own way."
Helen mourned her sister deeply. She arrived each day with shopping bags. Her cake was tender with sliced apples, but her almond cookies crumbled at the touch. Her pecan bars were awful, sticky-sweet and hard enough to break your teeth. They remained untouched in the dining room, because Helen never threw good food away. — Allegra Goodman

God took Day's hand from his hip and the other that was digging into his side; grasping them both he pulled them high over his head and pressed them into the pillows, securing them there with one hand. God was shocked by his own self-control, but he refused to hurt his lover. Half of his cock that was inside Day and God slowly rocked back and forth trying to open him up a little more. "Come on, sweetheart. You can do it. Open up, take all of me," God whispered. He concentrated on breathing and not shooting his load before he got all the way in. Day's erection was gone, his cock lying against his left thigh. Fuck. He had to make this good for him. "Breathe, Leo, and push out against me," he instructed. Beads — A.E. Via

Oh yeah. I can feel you, sweetheart. I can feel that you are turned on. If you were a little higher you could place one of those teacup breasts into my mouth. I'd love to suck one of your tits until each one is good and hard. Do you think you'd feel that between your legs? I can't wait until my mouth is all over you and I've licked and sucked on every inch of your skin at least twice. — Jessica Clare

Sweetheart, I'll be a Marine 'til they bury my cold, dead, decrepit ass in the ground a good fifty or sixty years from now. — Dee Tenorio

She looked from Wade to the rifle and back again. "Not as long as you know how to use that thing." When he cocked a brow Nikki couldn't resist the urge to add, "Just 'cause you've got the tool, doesn't mean you know how to use it."
"Don't worry, sweetheart," he replied with a dangerous look. "I know good and well how to use all my tools. But if you need convincing, I'm happy to demonstrate. — Victoria Vane

You probably know why I'm here. If you could hear me, talk to me, you'd probably ask me what the hell took me so long. Then you'd tell me what's been in my heart for months now. I know you'd want me to be happy, and I am. When you left, I thought you'd taken everything I had with you. Dex helped me see how wrong I was. You left everything there for me to give to someone else crazy enough to love me. I'll never forget you, Gabe." He reached into his pocket and pulled out a long chain, the small dog tags clinking together. Sloane didn't bother to hide the tears in his eyes. He smiled and let out a shaky breath before placing the dog tags on the tombstone. He put his fingers to his lips for a kiss before moving them to the black marble. "Good bye, sweetheart. Thank you for everything." Sloane — Charlie Cochet

Waltz back into our lives as if nothing had happened. We were dealing with Dad's death and I wasn't about to take on her problems, too." "I'm not going to argue with you, sweetheart. Like I said, you did the right thing." "I have to wonder," she murmured, her brow furrowed with consternation. "Karen ... " "I know, I know. It doesn't do any good to rehash this over and over. What's done is done. When I spoke to Nichole about the inheritance, she was adamant we did everything we should have. Cassie wasn't — Debbie Macomber

Oh sweetheart, I know what failure is...But as hard as it is, you have to lean in to those feelings. You hadn't have much failure in your life, Sarah. It takes practice to get good at it. It hurts like holy hell, but it's important. It's the door that will lead you into your future. — Molly Newman

Yeah?" he said, looking down into her hungry gaze. "You want to drink from me as I make you come?" She nodded weakly and gave him another small bite in reply. "You got it, sweetheart. But not the wrist this time." Holding her against him, he rolled onto his back and brought her up astride him. "I want to feel you at my neck, Elise. I want to hold you while you drink from me. I want to feel you bite into me." Touching her, he felt her uncertainty. "I've never done it that way before." "Good," he said, entirely too pleased to hear it. "I've never asked anyone to do it that way before. So, will you, Elise?" She frowned, but her eyes were rooted on his throat. "I don't want to hurt you ... " He chuckled, adoring her all the more for her concern. "Come here," he said, wrapping his hand around her nape and guiding her down to the exposed column of his neck. "Sink your teeth into me, Elise. Take your fill." She — Lara Adrian

What about the support group? What if I decide I'm not ready to leave?"
"It won't take me long to find somewhere else to go."
"You'd be willing to do that?"
"To have you beneath me? To hear you scream my name? To go down on you, lick you from bottom to top and finally see if you taste as good as you smell?" He smiled when her lips parted in shock and her eyes
went wide. "I'd give up group altogether, sweetheart. — Aline Hunter

What you should really be sorry for," he continued, "is that for the rest of my life, I'll have to avoid wine cellars to keep from thinking about you."
"Why? Was kissing me that bad?"
A devil-solf whisper. "No sweetheart. It was that good. — Lisa Kleypas

When he speaks, his voice is chillingly cruel. "I've fucked you, Rylee, and now I'm done with you! I told you that's all I was good for, sweetheart — K. Bromberg

Good morning sweetheart. — Tahereh Mafi

Touch the stone,' said Beliah, 'and you will touch "reality", or what the ignorant of all ages think "reality" is. That kind of truth will kill you, man. You won't see morning! I have kept you all your life from such things as remorse, terror, pity. Touch the stone, and those same angels will change you into an old poor pathetic deluded dying creature. Hubert, a nurse has to shave you, your hand shakes so much. You know that don't you? You dribble at every orifice, Hubert. You've begun to smell this past year or two...' He suddenly howled as if I had actually touched the stone,'YOU WILL BE RAVAGED IN FIRES OF GRACE!'
I heard Nurse McGregor in the next ward. 'Good evening,' came her cheerful voice to the looney who had strangled his sweetheart and then buried her in his garden. 'Is it cocoa tonight, or tea, or milk?"
Beliah was weeping. Outside the eaves dripped. The whole earth was drenched with the grief of Beliah. He wept inside me. I felt his marvellous tears on my face. — George Mackay Brown

A good man is a whole lot more satisfying than a thermal blanket and a vibrator."
"Grams! I can't believe you just said that!"
Her grandmother replied with a win. "I may be old, sweetheart, but I'm not dead yet. — Victoria Vane

Emma," he said, teary. "I want to spend the rest of my life with you. I always have. You and I . . . we fit like the gears of a machine, like interlocking pieces that join together effortlessly, turning in tandem, perfectly in sync.

"I believe in us, sweetheart. I believe that I am good for you and that I am a better man because of you. And I want to spend the rest of my life by your side. So, Emma Blair, here it is: Will you marry me?". — Taylor Jenkins Reid

Well enough," I reply. "Remember, you're drunk. And happy. You're supposed to be lusting over your escort. Try smiling a little more."
Day plasters a giant artificial smile on his face. As charming as ever. "Aw, come on, sweetheart. I thought I was doing a pretty good job. I got my arm around the prettiest escort on this block - how could I not be lusting over you? Don't I look like I'm lusting? This is me, lusting." His lashes flutter at me.
He looks so ridiculous that I can't help laughing. Another passerby glances at me. "Much better. — Marie Lu

Warm summer sun, shine friendly here
Warm western wind, blow kindly here;
Green sod above, rest light, rest light,
Good-night, Annette!
Sweetheart, good-night! — Robert Richardson

But just for the sake of argument, let's say I am cornered. Or perhaps I am in the middle of a crowded ballroom and do not want to make a scene. If you were flirting with a young lady who had just told you not to call her sweetheart, what would you do?"
"I would accede to her wishes and bid her good night," he said starchily.
"You would not!" Henry accused with a playful smile. "You're a terrible rake, Dunford. Belle told me."
"Belle talks too much," he muttered. — Julia Quinn

Emma's mid-twenties had brought a second adolescence even more self-absorbed and doom-laden than the first one. 'Why don't you just come home, sweetheart?' her mum had said on the phone last night, using her quavering, concerned voice, as if her daughter had been abducted. 'Your room's still here. There's jobs at Debenhams' - and for the first time she had been tempted.
Once, she thought she could conquer London. She had imagined a whirl of literary salons, political engagement, larky parties, bittersweet romances conducted on Thames embankments. She had intended to form a band, make short films, write novels, but two years on slim volume of verse was no fatter, and nothing really good had happened to her since she'd been baton-charged at Poll Tax Riots. — David Nicholls

Good night, sweetheart," he says. "Good bye, sweetheart," I say. And it's so casual, so innocent that he doesn't suspect a thing. — Lauren DeStefano

You've probably never had a real man." My body presses forward as she stands her ground. "No one was strong enough to deal with your penis envy."
"Penis envy?"
"Yeah, sweetheart." I reach my hand to cup her cheek. "You live in a man's world. You fight harder, stand straighter, and battle for your place." I see the flash in her eyes that lets me know I hit a chord. "I don't need you to assert your shit, babe. I'll own you. You won't want to have control because I'll make it so fucking good that you'll beg me to take it. — Corinne Michaels

Fuck. You."
He smirked. "Later, sweetheart. Now try to keep your mind on business for me like a good girl. — Joanna Wylde

You all right, sweetheart?" God said, inching up against his side. "Holy shit. You have no fucking idea how I'm feeling right now." Day half-moaned and half-laughed. "Is it good or bad?" God asked, rubbing Day's smooth chest. Day turned to face him with a sexy wink. "It's real good. I'm just pissed that we could've been doing this four years ago." Day smiled. "We weren't ready for this four years ago," God replied. "Maybe you're right. Are you ready now, Cash?" Day turned serious eyes on him. God used his thumb to tenderly stroke Day's bottom lip. "If you're asking am I going to hurt you or flake out, the answer's no. You know me, Leo. You're the only one who knows me. You're the only one that's seen this man in front of you right now." "Do I know you, Cash?" Day whispered into the darkness. "You will know all of me, but you'll have to wait until morning." God smiled, lightening the mood. Day — A.E. Via

I could fuck you senseless right here, right now, and give the women watching orgasms. That, sweetheart, is how good I am. — Tabatha Vargo

Oh yeah. Baby, so good." He had to release her nipple, had to hold her face in his hands, stare into her eyes. "So damned tight. Sweet. Ride me, sweetheart. Ride me out of hell. — Lora Leigh

There is much argument here about what is respectable and what is not, and what a good gel should or should not do regarding hemlines. I have to report that the general opinion of a soldier looking forward to leave after many months at the Front is that a hemline should go up as far as possible, and that the more unrespectable the girl the better. The proviso being, of course, that one's own wife/sweetheart should not occupy this category. — Theresa Breslin

Until you get the measure of your own soul, Jim, don't be quick to condemn a priest, or anyone else for that matter. I'm not scolding you, sweetheart," she said hurriedly. "It's just that, until you've been there, you can't know what it's like to hold yourself to promises you made in good faith a long time ago. Do you hang in there, or cut your losses? Soldier on, or admit defeat and try to make the best of things?" She'd looked a little sheepish then and admitted, "You know, I used to be a real hardass about stuff like this. No retreat, no surrender! But now? Jimmy, I honestly don't know if the world would be better or worse if we all held ourselves to the vows of our youth. — Mary Doria Russell

And I'm clued into the fact that no matter how hard I can make you come, no really good orgasm is gonna erase your perceptions of yourself and replace them with how I see you. I know what I got on my hands. I also know that most women who look like you have their heads up their asses in a different, far more annoying way. So the bright side is, what happened to you, even though you're as beautiful as you are, you'll never think your shit doesn't stink. And I gotta say, sweetheart, I get your sweet, I get your attitude, I get your mouth and I get all that without conceit and you thinkin' you can lead me around by my dick, so this is not a bad thing at all. — Kristen Ashley

Love' is a word that doesn't mean a damned thing to me. 'Em,' though? That's a word that means everything. I'd die for you, babe. Kill for you, too. I stood up to my club for you and I don't regret any of it, not for a minute. So, you wanted to know how I feel? I don't even have a word for what I feel, sweetheart. I just know it's really fuckin' good. — Joanna Wylde

I'm guessing you've got a spare in the trunk, but one spare isn't gonna do us much good," Johnny sighed. "Who would do something like this?"

"Did you notice all the looks you were getting from the ladies?"

"Absolutely." Johnny smiled deviously, his eyebrows waggling.

"Yeah, well so did all the other guys. I'm guessing one of them - and his name starts with 'D' and end with 'erek,' was a little jealous of your hot moves and decided to take it out on our cool ride."

Maggie hunched down beside him and sighed. "How many blondes does it take to change a tire?"

"Only one, sweetheart, but this blonde can't work a miracle. — Amy Harmon

A shepherd may be a very able, trusty, and good shepherd, without a sweetheart - better, perhaps, than with one. But what is he without his dog? — James Hogg

As the dog sprinted back, Jack said to the girl, "Sweetheart,honey, why do you have to be so hateful?"
"Why not?" Ellie said. "It's not like being good ever got me anywhere. — Ilsa J. Bick

I'm glad I'm feeling this way. I'm really glad."
Dr. Keyes looked rather dismayed. "Really, sweetheart?"
"Yes. And I don't want to let it go. Not yet. I'm just starting to feel it. And it feels ... I don't know. Right, I guess. Maybe even ... good. — James Patterson

The Moth don't care when he sees The Flame.
He might get burned, but he's in the game.
And once he's in, he can't go back, he'll
Beat his wings 'til he burns them black ...
No, The Moth don't care when he sees The Flame ...
The Moth don't care if The Flame is real,
'Cause Flame and Moth got a sweetheart deal.
And nothing fuels a good flirtation,
Like Need and Anger and Desperation ...
No, The Moth don't care if The Flame is real ... — Aimee Mann

Go ahead, deny up and down that the delicate act of turning the doorknob, that act which may transform everything, is done with the indifferent vigor of a daily reflex. See you later, sweetheart. Have a good day.
Tighten your fingers around a teaspoon, feel its metal pulse, its mistrustful warning. How it hurts to refuse a spoon, to say no to a door, to deny everything that habit has licked to a suitable smoothness. How much simpler to accept the easy request of the spoon, to use it, to stir the coffee. — Julio Cortazar

You feel so good sweetheart. I swear nothing's ever felt better in my whole fucking life. — R.K. Lilley

That theory will be blown when she's conferring with the event security, wearing an earpiece and holstering a firearm under her business suit. Or if she perceives a threat and pulls a gun, because she - and no offense, sweetheart - looks awful trigger-happy."
She set her forearms on the table. "You have no idea how true that statement is. But right now the person I'd be gunning for most is you, sweetheart." Then she smiled.
Holy shit. The smile completely transformed her face - but Devin wasn't sure if it was a good thing or a bad thing because the grin straddled the line between sexy and evil. — Lorelei James

We're still us," I managed, blinking back tears.
"I don't want there to be any awkwardness between us."
"There won't be. I won't let there be if you won't."
"Good, Sweetheart. Good. We'll just forget about this. It didn't mean anything. — Samantha Young

Love is immortal, and it goes beyond satisfying some fleeting physical hunger. In other words, sweetheart," her mother explained, "sex won't make up for the lack of love, no matter how good it is — Diana Palmer

What's got you smilin' like a bitch who just had good cock?" I was interrupted by a sexy drawl.
I looked up to see Nash leaning against the door frame, arms crossed in front of him, sexy smirk plastered on his face. He was tall, all muscle and ink; he exuded a couldn't-give-a-fuck attitude. Nash was one of the cockiest men I had ever met and the women flocked to him.
I rolled my eyes. "Can a woman not smile unless she's had cock?" I asked.
He uncrossed his arms and pushed away from the door frame; coming towards me, "No, sweet thing, it all comes down to cock."
"Well, I hate to tell you, Nash, but this woman hasn't had any today, and yet I am still smiling. I think your theory is a little off." I loved bantering back and forth with him.
He raised his eyebrows. "J's fallin' down on the job there sweetheart. You sure you don't want to jump ships? I've got all you'll ever need," he grinned at me, opening his arms wide in an inviting gesture. — Nina Levine

Granny Ditto always referred to perfume as 'smell good' and for me it's an essential. I have a sweetheart who's extremely allergic to most scents, so I have to be extra careful - as well as creative - in the smell department. The key, I've found, are essential oils, which come in all kinds of 100% natural scents. — Beth Ditto

Good morning, sweetheart."
"I like that," I say quietly, smiling even though he can't see it. "I like it when you call me sweetheart."
He laughs then, his shoulders shaking as he does. He rolls onto his back, arms stretched out at his sides.
God, he looks so good without his clothes on. — Tahereh Mafi

She jumped. "You walk like a cat!"
"I am a cat, sweetheart." He wanted to tease her again, so he let a low growl rumble up from his chest. "See?"
Streaks of vibrant color stained her cheeks once more. But she didn't back down. "Are you planning to move?"
"No." He drew in a deep breath, fighting the urge to nuzzle at her throat. "You smell good. Can I taste you?" It was a half-serious question. "Just a little?"
"Mr. Quinn!" She took a step around him and headed off.
But he'd already caught the tart bite of arousal in her scent. Satisfied, he followed, on his best behavior now. It wouldn't do to scare Annie away. Not when he planned to keep her. — Nalini Singh

CUSTOMER: OK, so you want this book?
THEIR DAUGHTER: Yes!
CUSTOMER: Peter Pan?
THEIR DAUGHTER: Yes, please. Because he can fly.
CUSTOMER: Yes, he can - he's very good at flying.
THEIR DAUGHTER: Why can't I fly, daddy?
CUSTOMER: Because of evolution, sweetheart. — Jen Campbell

Levi was all smiles and fond glances. "Sweetheart, get the door. I've got this."
Cath pressed her fingertips into her temples. "Did you just call me 'sweetheart'?"
He grinned. "It just came out. It felt good. — Rainbow Rowell

You know that man's story already. He's just starting to believe what Day's been saying to him for years, but he's scared as fuck. If you hurt him in any way, Day will hurt you." Johnson stopped grinning and looked back at God. "I thought Day hated him?" "Day is complex, Johnson. He's crazy about Ronowski, that's why he rides the man so hard." "I get that," Johnson responded. "All right. I don't mind doing the slow thing. We'll start with wings and a game tonight." Johnson shrugged and started inching toward his car. "Next week, maybe dinner and a movie." "Sounds good, bro." God waved and climbed in his truck. Now that he was done playing Chuck Woolery and there were no more love connections to be made. He was going home to his sweetheart. — A.E. Via

Another limit on intimate marriage in the nineteenth century was that many people still held the Enlightenment view that love developed slowly out of admiration, respect, and appreciation of someone's good character. Coupled with the taboos on expressions of sexual desire, these values meant that the love one felt for a sweetheart often was not seen as qualitatively different from the feeling one might have for a sister, a friend, or even an idea. — Stephanie Coontz

The last one's hard. Marriage is always a balancing act, and it's never a good idea for one partner to get too big a head, but I'm afraid that's what's going to happen here. People write a lot of things about Eric Dillon's talent, and most of it's true. But nobody writes about the important things. The fact that he's a wonderful father and the best husband a woman could have. That fact that he cares about other people so much that he sometimes scares me. That doesn't mean he's perfect, of course. It's hard living with a man who's prettier than all of your girlfriends put together. But if it weren't for Eric Dillon, I wouldn't be here tonight. He loved me when I wasn't lovable, and I guess when it comes right down to it, that's pretty much what family is all about. Thank you, sweetheart. — Susan Elizabeth Phillips