I Like Him And He Likes Me Quotes & Sayings

Actually, I think it's interesting that when I put the weight on, I was already with him. I don't know, maybe I felt safe. And he likes me like this. He likes me whatever size I am. — Delta Burke

I feel good with my husband: I like his warmth and his bigness and his being-there and his making and his jokes and stories and what he reads and how he likes fishing and walks and pigs and foxes and little animals and is honest and not vain or fame-crazy and how he shows his gladness for what I cook him and joy for when I make him something, a poem or a cake, and how he is troubled when I am unhappy and wants to do anything so I can fight out my soul-battles and grow up with courage and a philosophical ease. I love his good smell and his body that fits with mine as if they were made in the same body-shop to do just that. What is only pieces, doled out here and there to this boy and that boy, that made me like pieces of them, is all jammed together in my husband. So I don't want to look around any more: I don't need to look around for anything. — Sylvia Plath

I don't want any money."
I put the wallet away.
She said: "What are you going to do about last night?"
"What should I do?"
"Kill that son of a bitch."
"And fry?"
"You're too smart to fry."
"Maybe," I said. "But, lady, I've been drawing the line at murder lately."
She lay against the pillow, watching me. Her skin was dead white and it made the black eyes look big. She wasn't young, but she was still good-looking. Her shoulders were round and firm. As far as I could tell she was naked under the sheet. I sat down on a rocking-chair. It creaked under my weight.
"But you want to get him, don't you?" she asked.
"I wouldn't mind."
"Neither would I," she said.
"He's pretty tough for a gal to tackle."
"He knocked out my teeth."
The way she said it, it sounded like a good reason for bumping off a man. Maybe it was, at that. A girl likes to hold on to her teeth. — Jonathan Latimer

See! He likes you," Natalie said triumphantly.
I stared down at the scrawny scrap of fur cautiously sniffing my hand.
"He doesn't like me. He thinks I'm going to feed him."
"Now who's being a cynic? Anyway, every bookstore should have a cat."
The cat
assuming it was a cat and not some beige bug-eyed refugee from outer space
slunk uneasily down the counter, and flinched at the flutter of Mystery Scene pages as a gust of warm air blew in from the street. — Josh Lanyon

I soon found myself outside in a little courtyard overlooking the ocean. I found him standing against the rails with a mischievous look on his face. Like this was all some game he was playing with me.
"Took you long enough."
I was puffed out by the time I got to where he was standing as I tried to catch my breath.
"Well, if you didn't run so fast I might have gotten here sooner."
"That's just part of the fun, isn't it?"
I stared at him and tried to figure out what exactly he was doing.
"What is?" I asked. I wasn't sure if I wanted the answer, or the answer I had the feeling he was going to give me.
"The chase."
I sighed.
"Nobody likes to be chased. At least not in these shoes," I joked. — Jennifer Whitfield

I can do oblivion, you know. I can do it better than him. I'd like to see how he likes it if I just disappear from his life without a word. It was okay for him to keep in contact with Georgie and my mum, but not once did he pick up the phone or write to me. Like I was fucking nothing to him. Like I'm nothing to no one. — Melina Marchetta

She really liked you, Noah,'
'Yeah, well, maybe I'm just an asshole.'
I realize my hand is still in his hair and I retract it quickly. He grabs it, holds it against him. You're not an asshole I'm thinking, but for some reason I can't say it. It would be like admitting something else; like the fact that he's an asshole to every girl who likes him, but never to me. And then I'd have to really think about why that is and that's not something I'll ever be comfortable with at all, even though his eyes are like maps and his words are like anchors and his songs are like personal messages and I love all that.
- Chloe — Becky Wicks

I know it's a guy who will talk to me, he wears his cockiness like an ironic T-shirt, but it fits him better. He is the kind of guy who carries himself like he gets laid a lot, a guy who likes women, a guy who would actually fuck me properly. I would like to be fucked properly! My dating life seems to rotate around three types of me: preppy Ivy Leaguers who believe they're characters in a Fitzgerald novel; slick Wall Streeters with money signs in their yes, their ears, their mouths; and sensitive smart-boys who are so self-aware that everything feels like a joke. — Gillian Flynn

... I feel like he's taking advantage of me. Advantage of my illness. He thinks he can rewrite history in any way that he likes and I will never know, never be any the wiser. But I do know. I know exactly what he's doing. And so I don't trust him. In the end he is pushing me away, Dr. Nash. Ruining everything. — S.J. Watson

Do you think they're doing it?' said Alexon. Charls coughed on his wine. 'I beg your pardon?' 'The King and Prince Laurent. Do you think they're doing it?' 'Well, it's not for me to say.' Charls avoided looked at the Prince. 'I think they are,' volunteered Guilliame. 'Charls met the Prince of Vere once. He said he was so beautiful that if he were a pet he'd spark a bidding war the likes of which no one had ever seen.' 'I meant, in an honourable way,' Charls said, quickly. 'And everyone in Akielos speaks of the virility of Damianos,' continued Guilliame. 'I don't think it should follow that - ' Charls began. 'My cousin told me,' said Alexon, proudly, 'he met a man who had once been a famous gladiator from Isthima. He lasted only minutes in the arena with Damianos. But afterwards Damianos had him in his chambers for six hours.' 'You see? How could a man like that resist a beauty like the Prince?' Guilliame sat back triumphantly. 'Seven hours,' said Lamen, frowning slightly. 'Here — C.S. Pacat

So what did you want to talk to Wesley about?" he asked me.
"Kelly likes him," I said. "So I figured while we were discussing Lady Macbeth's insanity and Duncan's murder, I could, you know, casually find out if he likes her too."
Colton didn't blink. "He likes her."
"He does? How do you know?"
He shrugged like it was a silly question. "We talk sometimes. He told me on the drive over he hoped she would be here."
"Then why hasn't he ever asked her out?"
"He's shy. And we're in the middle of wrestling season, midterms, and Christmas." Colton picked up the liter of soda. "Have a little patience."
I reached for the bowl of popcorn, but didn't start out of the kitchen yet. "Well can I hurry him along? Is there any chance he'll ask her out before this weekend?"
Colton shook his head at me, then walked toward the living room. "You're not quite grasping the nature of patience, Charlotte. — Janette Rallison

The producer can put something together, package it, oversee it, give input. I'm the kind of producer that likes to take a back seat and let the director run with it. If he needs me, I'm there for him. As a director, I like to have the producer there with me. As a producer, I don't want to be there because I happen to be a director first and foremost, I don't want to "that guy." — Brett Ratner

Hey. I've just thought of something which I shouldn't think about. Hey. Whoa, wait a minute. I feel like I'm thinking of even ore things I shouldn't. After all, I can't want, nor wish for it, because I'll never get it. Even though there's no way that guy's life will belong to me. Why am I this upset? We met more than ten years ago. But even on the day we first kissed, and the day we first slept together, somehow, he has never... told me he likes me, much less that he loves me. I've never said it either. And yet, I've only told him to stay by my side. I thought that was enough. I hate this. Why am I fixated on that man? I don't want to realise that now. That I want him to love me. I want him to love me. I want him to love me so much I could die. — Natsuki Kizu

My Shadow
I have a little shadow that goes in and out with me,
And what can be the use of him is more than I can see.
He is very, very like me from the heels up to the head;
And I see him jump before me, when I jump into my bed.
The funniest thing about him is the way he likes to grow
Not at all like proper children, which is always very slow;
For he sometimes shoots up taller like an india-rubber ball,
And he sometimes goes so little that there's none of him at all.
He hasn't got a notion of how children ought to play,
And can only make a fool of me in every sort of way.
He stays so close behind me, he's a coward you can see;
I'd think shame to stick to nursie as that shadow sticks to me!
One morning, very early, before the sun was up,
I rose and found the shining dew on every buttercup;
But my lazy little shadow, like an arrant sleepy-head,
Had stayed at home behind me and was fast asleep in bed. — Robert Louis Stevenson

I feel like, God expects me to be human. I feel like, God likes me just the way I am: broken and empty and bruised. I feel like, God doesn't look at me and wish that I were something else, because He likes me just this way. I feel like, God doesn't want me to close my eyes and pray for Him to make me holy or for Him to make me pure; because He made me human. I feel like, God already knows I'm human ... it is I who needs to learn that. — C. JoyBell C.

Seeking to distract her from further questions, he bent and blew lightly into her ear. She shivered. "This horse bites, you know." "I think he likes me. Almost as much as you do." "I don't like you. How can I like you? I don't even know you, for you refuse to answer my questions." He stroked her upper arms. "There is little to say. You have Clonmuir, and that makes you far richer than I." He gazed over the horse's back, where a patch of sunset shone through a barred window. Even the warmth of her pressed against him failed to melt the ice of aloneness. — Susan Wiggs

I loved the fact there was a God who had made me, who had created everything around me. Jesus made sense to me. He's real. He's personal."
"He likes you," Bishop remarked gently.
"Exactly ... I wasn't smarted than He was. I adored Jesus for that fact. Every question I had, Jesus knew how to answer. That was such a relief. Not that He would always answer, but I knew I could search for an answer and find one, and it often felt like God was helping me go the right direction with my search."
"I'd bump into something cool God had made, and I'd promptly tell Him all about what I'd found and bombard Him with questions about it. — Dee Henderson

But anyway, I look around sometimes and I think - this will maybe sound weird - it's like the corporate world's full of ghosts. And actually, let me revise that, my parents are in academia so I've had front row seats for that horror show, I know academia's no different, so maybe a fairer way of putting this would be to say that adulthood's full of ghosts."

"I'm sorry, I'm not sure I quite --"

"I'm talking about these people who've ended up in one life instead of another and they are just so disappointed. Do you know what I mean? They've done what's expected of them. They want to do something different but it's impossible now, there's a mortgage, kids, whatever, they're trapped. Dan's like that."

"You don't think he likes his job, then."

"Correct," she said, "but I don't think he even realises it. You probably encounter people like him all the time. High-functioning sleepwalkers, essentially. — Emily St. John Mandel

You see, what I really want, and what I'm getting with Stephen, is the opportunity to rebuild myself from scratch. David's picture of me is complete now, and I'm pretty sure neither of us likes it much; I want to rip the page out and start again on a fresh sheet, just like I used to do when I was a kid and had messed a drawing up. It doesn't even matter who the fresh sheet is, really, so its beside the point whether I like Stephen, or whether he knows what to do with me in bed, or anything like that. I just want his rapt attention when I tell him that my favorite book is Middlemarch, and i just want that feeling, the feeling I get with him, of having not gone wrong yet — Nick Hornby

Rory's big labradoodle made a snap judgement that Frankie was everything her life had been missing up until now. She flung herself into the girl's arms, wiggling and whining, a shaggy mass of chocolate-colored enthusiasm.
"Mistral likes you, I see." While he, the one who filled the dog's food dish, had gotten nothing but suspicious glances since he arrived two days earlier.
"of course you like me" she said, baby-talking into the dog's fur, "I'm extremely likeable."
If the dog's expression was any indication, Frankie was about to get nominated for sainthood....
She glanced at him. "Maybe she'd like you more if you weren't so... testosterone-y."
"But then you might like me less — Roxanne Snopek

He isn't so much flirting," Cerise murmured. "Either he doesn't like me or he doesn't know how."
"Of course he likes you. You're lovely. He probably just doesn't get it. Some men have to be hit over the head with it. Her aunt rolled her eyes. "I thought I'd have to draw your uncle Jean a giant sign. That or kidnap him and have my evil way with him, until he got the message. — Ilona Andrews

I'm a human being and I've got thoughts and secrets and bloody life inside me that he doesn't know is there, and he'll never know what's there because he's stupid. I suppose you'll laugh at this, me saying the governor's a stupid bastard when I know hardly how to write and he can read and write and add-up like a professor. But what I say is true right enough. He's stupid, and I'm not, because I can see further into the likes of him than he can see into the likes of me. — Alan Sillitoe

Tristran tugged and pulled out the stopper of the bottle. He could smell something intoxicating, like honey mixed with wood smoke and cloves. He passed the bottle back to the little man. "It's a crime to drink something as rare and good as this out of the bottle," said the little hairy man. He untied the little wooden cup from his belt and, trembling, poured a small amount of an amber-colored liquid into it. He sniffed it, then sipped it, then he smiled, with small, sharp teeth. "Aaaahhhh. That's better." He passed the cup to Tristran. "Sip it slowly," he said. "It's worth a king's ransom, this bottle. It cost me two large blue-white diamonds, a mechanical bluebird which sang, and a dragon's scale." Tristran sipped the drink. It warmed him down to his toes and made him feel like his head was filled with tiny bubbles. "Good, eh?" Tristran nodded. "Too good for the likes of you and me, I'm afraid. Still. It hits the spot in times of trouble, of which this is certainly one. — Neil Gaiman

He likes you. You like him, you're just scared. Well," she glanced over her shoulder and dropped her voice, "unless you tell me he's some freaky psycho-killer ... " I rolled my eyes and shook my head. "Then I'm not letting you mess this up for yourself. Your creepy hermit status is officially over. — A&E Kirk

"Okay, what'd I do?" he asked.
"Nothing. I'm just tired."
"Uh-uh. I suspected I was getting the cold shoulder earlier, but with everything going on, I wasn't sure. Now I'm sure. You're giving me the look."
"What look?"
"The Maya's-pissed-with-Corey look. Fifty percent disappointment, thirty percent disapproval, twenty percent exasperation. I've done something you're not happy about."
I hesitated, then blurted, "Rafe told me what you said about Daniel."
He frowned. "You're going to need to be a little more specific."
"In Salmon Creek, when Rafe and I started getting together. You told him to back off because Daniel ... " I glanced at the open door and lowered my voice. "Because Daniel likes me." — Kelley Armstrong

You and I both know that Lord Stoneville sees me only as a means to an end."
"That's not true," Freddy said earnestly. "I've seen how he looks at you. It's how I look at the last bit of bacon on the serving plate. He likes you."
"Don't be absurd."
"And you like him, too."
She let out a shuddering breath. "I like Nathan."
"But if Mr. Pinter doesn't find Nathan-"
"Then we'll go home and hope Nathan doesn't take too long in returning."
"You could marry Lord Stoneville," Freddy said. — Sabrina Jeffries

It's a letter from my godfather." "Godfather?" spluttered Uncle Vernon. "You haven't got a godfather!" "Yes, I have," said Harry brightly. "He was my mum and dad's best friend. He's a convicted murderer, but he's broken out of Wizard prison and he's on the run. He likes to keep in touch with me, though . . . keep up with my news . . . check if I'm happy. . . ." And, grinning broadly at the look of horror on Uncle Vernon's face, Harry set off toward the station exit, Hedwig rattling along in front of him, for what looked like a much better summer than the last. — J.K. Rowling

The problem with being an alpha is that you can never make the first move.
Makes you feel like you're taking advantage of your position. You have to wait until
the other person decides they want in."
Jim set the basket on the coffee table and crouched by me.
"And sometimes it seems like that person likes you, and you try to test the waters,
so you try to tell her how you feel, that she matters and that you want to be with her
and you're concerned about her safety. And every time you do that, she waves her
arms around and accuses you of being a controlling alpha asshole. So you back off
and hope you didn't completely fuck it up."
He was close, too close. I just stared at him. What was happening ... "Why are
you telling me this?"
His voice was low and smooth. "That time when I told you it didn't matter what
your mother thought about your looks ... "
"Aha ... "
"I meant it," he said. "Because I think you're beautiful. — Ilona Andrews

Just once, I'd like to find a boy. And I like him and he likes me. And we have a laugh and the kissing's really good and there's no-one getting in the way of the laughing and the kissing. Is that too much to ask? — Sarra Manning

Abraham was a man who lived in oneness with God. If I live in oneness with a certain brother day after day, there will be no need for him to tell me of many things. I will already know what he likes and what he does not like, what pleases him and what offends him. If I love him and live in oneness with him, whatever I say and do will be in accordance with his likes or dislikes. I am sorry to say that many Christians [791] do not live in oneness with God. When important matters arise, they kneel down and pray, "O Lord, what is Your will?" Eventually, they do not follow God's will but their own concept. We do not know God's will by praying in such a way. If we would know God's will, we must live in oneness with Him. If we live in oneness with Him, He will not need to tell us what He desires, because we shall already know it by being one with Him. — Witness Lee

She set her hands neatly in her lap. "But you just said he liked you."
"No, I said he enjoys my company. That is, he enjoys hating me. Or pretending to hate me. I don't know which.
But I'm finding it difficult to completely dislike someone who gets pleasure from having me around ... "So he likes being mean to you," she said. "And you like that he likes being mean to you."
"And I like being mean to him, too, don't forget."
"Of course not. Pleasure from meanness. There's a name for it: sadomasochism. — Kristin Walker

And I let the dog out, or I let him in, and we talk some. I let him know I like him, and he lets me know he likes me. He doesn't mind the smell of mustard gas and roses. — Kurt Vonnegut

I let the dog out, or I let him in, and we talk some. I let him know I like him, and he lets me know he likes me. — Kurt Vonnegut