Kiss In The Morning Quotes & Sayings

The daily work you put into rearing your children is a kind of intimacy, tedious and invisible as mothering itself. There is another kind of intimacy in the conversations you may have with your children as they grow older, in which you confess to failings, reveal anxieties, share your bouts of creative struggle, regret, frustration. There is intimacy in your quarrels, your negotiations and running jokes. But above all, there is intimacy in your contact with their bodies, with their shit and piss, sweat and vomit, with their stubbled kneecaps and dimpled knuckles, with the rips in their underpants as you fold them, with their hair against your lips as you kiss the tops of their heads, with the bones of their shoulders and with the horror of their breath in the morning as they pursue the ancient art of forgetting to brush. Lucky me that I should be permitted the luxury of choosing to find the intimacy inherent in this work that is thrust upon so many women. Lucky me. — Michael Chabon

In the hours waking,
when we're still all still,
and you can hear the floorboards creaking,
and you can feel the shades blow in,
the night we slept with,
we'll never kiss like that again.
Our lips, will sever,
our memories, will dissipate,
and our shadows will be swallowed by the sky. — Dave Matthes

When We Two Parted

When we two parted
In silence and tears,
Half broken-hearted
To sever for years,
Pale grew thy cheek and cold,
Colder thy kiss;
Truly that hour foretold
Sorrow to this.

The dew of the morning
Sunk chill on my brow -
It felt like the warning
Of what I feel now.
Thy vows are all broken,
And light is thy fame:
I hear thy name spoken,
And share in its shame.

They name thee before me,
A knell to mine ear;
A shudder comes o'er me -
Why wert thou so dear?
They know not I knew thee,
Who knew thee too well:
Long, long shall I rue thee,
Too deeply to tell.

In secret we met -
In silence I grieve,
That thy heart could forget,
Thy spirit deceive.
If I should meet thee
After long years,
How should I greet thee?
With silence and tears. — George Gordon Byron

In the morning, as we're enjoying a shower together, Cash asks Mikey how long he's been working here.
"Since I was fourteen."
"How OLD are you now?"
"Eighteen."
"Nice. Are there any other hot guys working here besides you?"
"I'm not a prostitute. I'm a ranch hand."
"Sorry- I didn't mean-"
"It's okay."
As they kiss and make up, I inform Cash that I was Mikey's first.
"Really?" Cash laughed. "You were?"
"Yeah-" Mikey answered. "He was."
"I was his birthday present last month..."
Cash laughed, "How much did that set you back-? — Giorge Leedy

Almost all of the finer things in life are free or nearly free. You don't have to pay for the sky at night or snow in the morning or a kiss on the nose when you're sick. Forgetting that may put you at the mercy of those who seek to profit by convincing you to want whatever it is they have to sell. — Marilyn Vos Savant

Noah," she whispers in reprimand.
"You've never complained when I've tried to undress you before."
Echo readjusts so she can see me, and for the first time since this morning, those eyes dance. "Yes, I have."
"When?"
"The last day of school."
"So you've complained once." When I led her to the nook of the abandoned hallway in the basement near my locker. I only meant to sneak in for a kiss during lunch, but things got hot and heavy and well ... sue me. "I didn't buy a yearbook, so I was memory-making. — Katie McGarry

Zooey was in dreamy top form. The announcer had them off on the subject of housing developments, and the little Burke girl said she hated houses that all look alike-meaning a long row of identical 'development' houses. Zooey said they were 'nice.' He said it would be very nice to come home and be in the wrong house. To eat dinner with the wrong people by mistake, sleep in the wrong bed by mistake, and kiss everybody goodbye in the morning thinking they were your own family. He said he even wished everybody in the world looked exactly alike. He said you'd keep thinking everybody you met was your wife or your mother or father, and people would always be throwing their arms around each other wherever they went, and it would look 'very nice. — J.D. Salinger

A home isn't just a roof over our heads. A home is a place where we feel loved and where we love others. It's a place we belong. Love is what makes a home, not the contents inside the house or the number on the door. It's the people waiting for us across the threshold, the people who will take us in their arms after a ad day and kiss us good night and good morning everyday for the rest of our lives. — Hermann Hesse

It's morning when I go to sleep
In the distant dawn a church bell rings
Another day is coming on
A baby's born, an old man dies
Somewhere young lovers kiss good-bye
I leave my soul and just move on
And wish that I was there to sing this song — Jon Bon Jovi

John Watson, a leading childcare authority in the 1920s, sternly advised parents, 'Never hug and kiss [your children], never let them sit in your lap. If you must, kiss them once on the forehead when they say goodnight. Shake hands with them in the morning.'22 — Yuval Noah Harari

If love means thinking about someone all the time and feeling special whenever you're with them, if it means little buzzes of electricity making you shiver when you kiss, if it meant listening to every word they say with hyper-awareness so you can replay the whole conversation when you're on your own, then I was in love. If love means caring about someone so much that it makes you want to cry when they're not smiling, feeling sick with excitement in the morning becauses because you're going to see them at college, feeling like half a person when you're not together, then I was completely and absolutely and utterly in love with Theo. — Keren David

Finally our eyes held each other.
Don't kiss him.
"I was worried," he said, slowly pulling himself off the bed frame, leaning forward. His face was so close to mine in the quiet morning. My heart faltered once before catching a new rhythm, faster than before. Sebastian's dark hair had never looked so careless and my fingers itched to return to the inky strands. His eyes were the softest mossy green, and I was sure that all his usual awkward reserve had melted in this strange dawn. When I realized that his eyes were glued to my lips, I instinctively parted them, sucking in a fast breath.
Don't you dare kiss him, Evelyn.
He was so close I could have counted the strands of gold that gleamed in the green of his eyes. I could have shifted forward one breath and his lips would be on mine. I was dizzy, lost in the world that existed here between us. — Tarun Shanker

Even in my time, we knew that men were not in
charge. Oh, they might bluster as if they were. But when it came down to it, we women bore much of the influence. Often, my father would make some grand pronouncement in the evening. And the next morning, he had changed his mind. After a while, I realized that it was my mother who had changed it, quietly, in the night. — Alex Flinn

One hand went around her shoulders and the other one tipped her chin up. For several seconds he lost himself in her blue eyes and then his lips found hers in a lingering kiss and both her arms went instinctively around his neck.
"I've wanted to do that all morning," he said.
"I've wanted you to do that all morning," she whispered. "I guess we don't need to talk about this thing anymore now."
"I'm ready to do lots of things, Annie Rose. Talk is not anywhere on the list. — Carolyn Brown

Is that a rule? Do you have a rule that you can't kiss people in the morning? — Holly Hood

I love doing TV. It's such a breakneck pace, you know. It's kiss and go with your leading man. You meet them in the morning and go right into a clinch. The filming is over before you know their last names. — Paulette Goddard

the toilet is an intimacy
only shared with parents when you are young
and once again when they are older
and with lovers when say on a Sunday
morning stretching into the bathroom
you wake to the sound of stream into bowl
and go to hug the naked body
stood with its back to you and kiss the neck
and taste the whole of the night on there
and smell the morning's pale yellow loss
and take the whole of him in your hand
and feel the water moving through him
and knowing that this is love the prone flesh
what we expel from the body and what we let inside — Andrew McMillan

She really is breathtaking, even first thing in the morning.
Before I even realize what I'm doing, I rub my fingertips down her smooth cheek. Her eyelids flutter shut, making me want to kiss them. — M. Leighton

We spoke on the phone for the first time that morning. My back against the chest of drawers, my knees tucked under my chin.
"What are you doing?" You ask.
"Staring at my socks," I reply, "I wore them inside out."
"You dork."
At some point in the following months, our conversation turns.
"I'm going to kiss you really slow, while fucking you really fast. — Lang Leav

If you're lucky enough to find
a girl who is a hopeless romantic
with a dirty mind,
you should hold onto that.
Because she'll be yours at
two in the morning,
and at two in the afternoon
the following day.
She'll kiss you where it hurts,
and until it hurts.
and that's important.
Someone who not only knows
how to turn you on,
but also knows how to treat you right
is someone worth a little something. — Unknown

Just out of curiosity," she says, "after you wake up in the morning, do you admire yourself in the mirror for one hour or two?"

"Two," I reply cheerfully.

"Do you high five yourself?"

"Of course not." I smirk. "I kiss each of my biceps and then point to the ceiling and thank the big man upstairs for creating such a perfect male specimen. — Elle Kennedy

When I bring to you coloured toys, my child, I understand why there is such a play of colours on clouds, on water, and why flowers are painted in tints
when I give coloured toys to you, my child.
When I sing to make you dance I truly now why there is music in leaves, and why waves send their chorus of voices to the heart of the listening earth
when I sing to make you dance.
When I bring sweet things to your greedy hands I know why there is honey in the cup of the flowers and why fruits are secretly filled with sweet juice
when I bring sweet things to your greedy hands.
When I kiss your face to make you smile, my darling, I surely understand what pleasure streams from the sky in morning light, and what delight that is that is which the summer breeze brings to my body
when I kiss you to make you smile. — Rabindranath Tagore

How strange, Royce thought, that, after emerging victorious from more than a hundred real battles, the greatest moment of triumph he had ever known had come to him on a mock battlefield where he'd stood alone, unhorsed, and defeated. This morning, his life had seemed as bleak as death. Tonight, he held joy in his arms. Someone or something - fate or fortune or Jenny's God - had looked down upon him this morning and seen his anguish. And, for some reason, Jenny had been given back to him.
Closing his eyes, Royce brushed a kiss against her smooth forehead. Thank you, he thought.
And in his heart, he could have sworn he heard a voice answer, You're welcome. — Judith McNaught

I'm going to do everything you want me to do. I won't do anything you don't want me to. If you want me to hold you, I'll never let you go. If you want me to kiss you all night long, you'll have to buy me chapstick in the morning. Anything you want, I'll do. — Tijan

His skin smelled sweet, like milk and honey, and he'd shaved and trimmed his hair. Etta ran a hand over it.

"You're looking especially clean this morning," she said.

"I couldn't sleep," he said, "so I brought water up for a bath, and then more for you. The water should still be warm."

Pure joy exploded in her. "I could kiss you for that!"

"By all means," he said coyly. "Don't hold yourself back on my account. — Alexandra Bracken

Mark laughed. "You are one strange little man." Alec stopped and faced him. "That's what my mama used to say. She'd wake me up in the morning, give me a little kiss and a hug, and she'd say, 'My sweet Alec. You are one strange little man.' Got to me every time, right here." He patted his heart, then rolled his eyes dramatically. "Let's get to work." "See?" Mark said as he followed. "Do I need any more proof? Strange. Little. Man. Officially proven." "You got one word right. I'm definitely a man. I'm all man, baby." He let out a strangled choking sound that might've been a laugh. — James Dashner

His mouth was on hers, the champagne flavoring his tongue and lips, his sexy scent reaching her over the warm, bubbling water. She stroked his arms, loving the feel of his mouth against hers, hot and hungry. Just like hers was, unable to get enough, not wanting to give this up, wanting to kiss him until the sun rose in the morning. — Terry Spear

Up into the the silence the green
silence with a white earth in it
you will (kiss me)go
out into the morning the young
morning with a warm world in it
(kiss me)you will go
on into the sunlight the fine
sunlight with a firm day in it
you will go(kiss me
down into your memory and
a memory and memory
i) kiss me,(will go) — E. E. Cummings

One Kashmiri morning in the early spring of 1915, my grandfather Aadam Aziz hit his nose against a frost-hardened tussock of earth while attempting to pray. Three drops of blood plopped out of his left nostril, hardened instantly in the brittle air and lay before his eyes on the prayer-mat, transformed into rubies. Lurching back until he knelt with his head once more upright, he found that the tears which had sprung to his eyes had solidified, too; and at that moment, as he brushed diamonds contemptuously from his lashes, he resolved never again to kiss earth for any god or man. This decision, however, made a hole in him, a vacancy in a vital inner chamber, leaving him vulnerable to women and history. Unaware of this at first, despite his recently completed medical training, he stood up, rolled the prayer-mat into a thick cheroot, and holding it under his right arm surveyed the valley through clear, diamond-free eyes. — Salman Rushdie

Had we been wed in Scotland, we could have spoken the old vows. Do you know what words, what promises we would have spoken had we been there, not here, this morning?" His hand slid up to her cheek, cupping it as if to soften the effect of his tone, and as Elizabeth gazed at his hard, beloved face in the candlelight her shyness and fears slid away. "No," she whispered.
"I would have said to you," he told her quietly and without shame, "'With my body, I thee worship.'"
He spoke the words now, as a vow, and when Elizabeth realized it, the poignancy of it made her eyes sting with tears. Turning her face into his hand, she kissed his palm, covering his hand with hers, and a groan tore from his chest, his mouth descending on hers in a kiss that was both rough and tender as he parted her lips for the demanding invasion of his tongue. — Judith McNaught

Well," Adam said, leaning back and sighing, "I've got that out of my system now. I can leave you alone for the rest of the day. I always say, if you kiss the girl at the start of the date, it takes the pressure off."
"Oh, really, is that what you always say?" I said.
"Always. It's my golden rule. I've literally been saying it since ... since I met you again in Princeton. Well, I suppose it came a bit after that. I've
definitely been saying it all morning. — Kate Le Vann

Within this raindrop there must be a heart- a heart that weeps the pain of longing. I have her in my palm where the silvery rays of the morn reflect the beauty of the whole cosmos and I kiss her with all my yearning! — Preeth Nambiar

Neva closed her eyes and prayed aloud, asking God to kiss Belle's dreams with all things pleasant and awaken her in the morning with the reminder of His unwavering presence. Then she gave her daughter a hug and a kiss and tiptoed from the room. — Kim Vogel Sawyer

You ever wake up in the morning and kiss the mirror and say "HELLO BEAUTIFUL" if not you have the wrong connection with your reflection. — Stanley Victor Paskavich

We kiss good-bye. It's our typical morning good-bye kiss. A quick peck. A well-intentioned habit. I look down and notice Lucy's round, blue eyes paying close attention. I flash to studying my own parents kissing when I was little ... I promised myself that when I got married someday, I would have kisses that meant something. Kisses that would make me weak in the knees. Kisses that would embarrass the kids. Kisses like Han Solo kissing Princess Leia ...
Now I get it. we aren't living in some George Lucas blockbuster adventure. Our morning kiss good-bye isn't romantic, and it certainly isn't sexual. It's a routine kiss, but I'm glad we do it. It does mean something. It's enough. And it's all we have time for. — Lisa Genova

The first kiss in the morning
tastes like the first kiss on earth.
My waking soul is innocent,
as I lie next to the tenant
of my best dreams.
When I caress him I know:
a kiss is preverbal,
a word is a kiss's junior. — Vera Pavlova

Fall in love
with the energy
of the mornings

trace your fingers
along the lull
of the afternoons

take the spirit
of the evenings
in your arms
kiss it deeply

and then
make love
to the tranquility
of the nights. — Sanober Khan

Does he make you tremble with a touch?" He ran the tips of his fingers up my bare arm, his touch feather light, yet it lit a fire inside me. I closed my eyes, my entire body trembling. He lifted hair from my neck, lowered his head, and pressed a kiss on my exposed neck. Warmth pulsed through me. "Is he the first person you think about when you wake up in the morning and the last one you think about before you fall asleep? — Ednah Walters

His lips covered hers swiftly, his tongue taking advantage of her gasp and sweeping in commandingly. He had asked for the caress earlier that morning, now he demanded. He conquered, he licked and stroked her tongue and gloried in her instant, if hesitant, response. She was shy. Wary. She wouldn't give in to the heat pulsing between them easily. But she was curious enough about it to allow the kiss. — Lora Leigh

I used to think that I needed to be part of a story, a big story, one with trials and villains and temptations and rewards. That's how I would conquer it, conquer death."
She sighed again, and nestled in closer to me. "All that matters, in the end, is the little things. The way Mim says my name to wake me up in the morning. The way Bee's hand feels in mine. The way the sun cast my shadow across the yard yesterday. The way your cheeks flush when we kiss. The smell of hay and the taste of strawberries and the feel of fresh black dirt between my toes. This is what matters, Midnight. — April Genevieve Tucholke

Not long after he moved, the mail carrier got embroiled in a battle with the Middletown government over the flock of chickens that he kept in his yard. He treated them just as Mamaw had treated her chickens back in the holler: Every morning he collected all the eggs, and when his chicken population grew too large, he'd take a few of the old ones, wring their necks, and carve them up for meat right in his backyard. You can just imagine a well-bred housewife watching out the window in horror as her Kentucky-born neighbor slaughtered squawking chickens just a few feet away. My sister and I still call the old mail carrier "the chicken man," and years later even a mention of how the city government ganged up on the chicken man could inspire Mamaw's trademark vitriol: "Fucking zoning laws. They can kiss my ruby-red asshole." The — J.D. Vance

I brought you out here because I wanted to share a sunrise with you, and maybe even a sunset. I wanted to see how much I could kiss you between now and the time we dock tomorrow. And if I was really lucky, I was hoping I could lie with you until you fell asleep, until I couldn't stay awake anymore. And in the morning, we'd wake up, and we'd be together, just like this. — Elle Lothlorien

Tatiana sat on the bench by the bay, by the morning water, and watched her son push himself on a tire swing. Her arms were twisted around her stomach. She was trying not to rock like Alexander rocked at three o'clock in the morning. Has he left me? Did he kiss my hand and go? No. It wasn't possible. Something's happened. He can't cope, can't make it, can't find a way out, a way in. I know it. I feel it. We thought the hard part was over - but we were wrong. Living is the hardest part. Figuring out how to live your life when you're all busted up inside and out - there is nothing harder. Oh dear God. Where is Alexander? — Paullina Simons

That was some first kiss," she said with a tired, contented expression.
I scanned her face and smiled. "Your last first kiss."
Abby blinked, and then I fell onto the mattress beside her, reaching across her bare middle. Suddenly the morning was something to look forward to. It would be our first day together, and instead of packing in poorly concealed misery, we could sleep in, spend a ridiculous amount of the morning in bed, and then just enjoy the day as a couple. That sounded pretty damn close to heaven to me. Three months ago, no one could have convinced me that I would feel that way. Now, there was nothing else I wanted more.
A big, relaxing breath moved my chest up and down, relaxing slowly as I fell asleep next to the second woman I'd ever loved. — Jamie McGuire

I have seen clouds part for the sun. I have seen rainbows. I have seen flowers in the morning, covered in dew, and I have seen sunsets so brilliant with fire they made me want to weep. And I have seen Dan smile at me, his lips still wet from my kiss, and if I had to choose which sight moved me the most I would say it was that one. — Megan Hart

Instead of discussing with myself every morning whether I feel inspired or not, I step into my office every day at nine sharp, open the window and politely ask the muse to enter and kiss me. Sometimes she comes in, more often she does not. But she can never claim that she hasn't found me waiting in the right place. — Peter Prange

Luke and I stay nestled together until he nudges me.
We'd better get going, he says gently.
I guess I dozed off. I'm not letting you fall asleep without a note again. Why not? I ask, stretching. I kiss him on the cheek and add, with a sly smile, you don't have to worry, Luke. I'll remember you in the morning. — Cat Patrick

Fang and I are always fighting. When we get up in the morning, we don't kiss; we touch gloves. — Phyllis Diller

Nick watched her intently as he tried to sort through the anarchy of his thoughts. His usual appetite had vanished after their walk this morning. He had not eaten breakfast ... had not done anything, really, except to wander around the estate in a sort of daze that appalled him. He knew himself to be a callous man, one with no honor, and no means of quelling his own brutish instincts. So much of his life had been occupied with basic survival that he had never been free to follow higher pursuits. He had little acquaintance with literature or history, and his mathematical abilities were limited to matters of money and betting odds. Philosophy, to him, was a handful of cynical principles learned through experience with the worst of humanity. By now, nothing could surprise or intimidate him. He didn't fear loss, pain, or even death.
But with a few words and one awkward, innocent kiss, Charlotte Howard had devastated him. — Lisa Kleypas

Before you went to work this morning in the city, did you spend some time with your family? Did you kiss your wife and tell her that she's pretty? — Mac Davis

I love you," Sam said, and set his mouth against hers, and broke off the kiss because he had to say it again. "I love you."
Lucy's trembling fingers came to his lips, caressing them gently, "Are you sure? How do you know it's not just about sex?"
"It is about sex ... sex with your mind, sex with your soul, sex with the color of your eyes, the smell of your skin. I want to sleep in your bed. I want you to be the first thing I see every morning and the last thing I see at night. I love you the way I never thought I could love anyone. — Lisa Kleypas

That's a much better kiss than the one you gave her when you won the shooting match!"
"And a much better proposal of marriage than the one you gave her yesterday morning!" Minerva chimed in.
"Leave him be!" Celia chided as Jackson went red about the ears. "He saved my life twice, figured out who killed Mama and Papa, and taught Gran some humility. We can't all be good at everything, you know."
Amid the laughter, he kissed her again, but her family didn't let that go on for long. It was cold outside, after all. Gran herded them inside to the great hall, where the servants had brought out refreshments. There, everyone had to take turns congratulating them and clamoring for all the usual details of how it had started and when it had become true love. — Sabrina Jeffries

So the next morning, I had the deeply wretched experience of seeing Prince Marek stop outside the tower doors to look up to my window and blow me a cheerful and indiscreet kiss. I'd been watching only to be sure he actually left; it took nearly all the caution left in me not to throw something down at his head, and I don't mean a token of my regard. — Naomi Novik

Zooey said ... It would be very nice to come home and be in the wrong house. To eat dinner with the wrong people by mistake, sleep in the wrong bed by mistake, and kiss everybody good-bye in the morning thinking they were your own family. — J.D. Salinger

One day we wake up and we are broken. We taste it
in our morning kiss. Our mirror tells us the same stories
in separate hours: things will never be the same. — Cristin O'Keefe Aptowicz

The sleep that flits on baby's eyes - does anybody know from where it comes? Yes, there is a rumour that it has its dwelling where, in the fairy village among shadows of the forest dimly lit with glow-worms, there hang two timid buds of enchantment. From there it comes to kiss baby's eyes.
The smile that flickers on baby's lips when he sleeps - does anybody know where it was born? Yes, there is a rumour that a young pale beam of a crescent moon touched the edge of a vanishing autumn cloud, and there the smile was first born in the dream of a dew-washed morning - the smile that flickers on baby's lips when he sleeps.
The sweet, soft freshness that blooms on baby's limbs - does anybody know where it was hidden so long? Yes, when the mother was a young girl it lay pervading her heart in tender and silent mystery of love - the sweet, soft freshness that has bloomed on baby's limbs. — Rabindranath Tagore

You know I love you, right?" The urge to kiss her goodbye was so strong that I almost broke our rules.

She smiled, beautiful and golden in the late morning light. "Not as much as I love you."

"Oh, man. This is my dream come true: having an 'I love you more' debate. Here, I'll start. I love you more. Your turn."

Sydney laughed and opened the door. "I've taken debate classes. You'd lose to my logic. — Richelle Mead

The morning will come In the press of every kiss, With your head upon my chest Where I will annoy you With every waking breath Until you decide to wake up. — Coheed And Cambria

I will remember what I was, I am sick of rope and chains -
I will remember my old strength and all my forest affairs.
I will not sell my back to man for a bundle of sugar cane;
I will go out to my own kind, and the wood-folk in their lairs.
I will go out until the day, until the morning break -
Out to the wind's untainted kiss, the water's clean caress;
I will forget my ankle-ring and snap my picket stake.
I will revisit my lost love and playmates masterless! — Rudyard Kipling

I think the way I feel when I look at Evan comes from her. In pictures taken the day she married my dad, she was reckless, laughing, spinning around in circles. She looked like her whole world was him. She looked a kind of happy I can't even imagine.
I don't want that. I don't want to be like that. I don' want to feel the way she did because I know what happens when you do. You love with your whole heart, with everything, and you wake up one morning and kiss someone good-bye the way you always do except you mean it as good-bye forever. — Elizabeth Scott

He brushed a kiss across my lips, there and gone before I could gather myself to respond.
'Come now my dear. Let's have breakfast."

"Yes." There was a golden bubble in my chest, pushing out against my ribs.
"Thank you for being patient with me."

His smile turned the gloomy morning to pure sunshine. "You're worth it. — Jordan L. Hawk

Well, then- Before I can finish his lips are on mine fervently and I return his kiss as our mouths move together in a slow rhythm. I wrap my arms around his neck tightly. He grasps my face between both of his warm hands, then pulls back to look at me.
You don't know how happy you just made me, Gracie. I love you. I fucking love you!
Yes I do because it's the same feeling you give me. I love you so much Carter and I want to move in with you and see you every day and wake up next to you every morning. — Annie Brewer

I hope every day you take each other's breath away. I hope every kiss feels like the first but ends like the last. I hope you always see the best versions of yourselves reflected in each other's eyes. But mostly, I hope you wake up every morning next to each other because there's no place in this world you'd rather be, instead of having nowhere else to go. May you always be each other's home. — Jewel E. Ann

I didn't leave early that morning. I waited for him to wake up and kiss me good morning. He said he was going to take a shower and I should come join him. I thought now was as good of a time as any and placed the ring on his corner table with my note.

It read:
My Love, I don't know how you will accept my decision. I do love you with all my heart but you are not my first love. I am always going to be infatuated with my love for the sea. Accept my proposal after I have completed my education, claim my heart for thy own & obtain thy love in which it possesses.
With all My Love, Zara

-emerald eyes of the sea — Hazel Cartwright

I didn't say, "I'll call you." I didn't hug her because of the wet clothes. Just a quick kiss. Then I turned and left. I made my way quietly down the hallway to the stairwell. I could tell she thought she wasn't going to see me again. I had to admit she might be right. The knowledge was as damp and dispiriting as my sodden clothes. I came to the first floor and looked out at the entranceway of the building. For a second I pictured the way she had hugged me here. It already seemed like a long time ago. I felt an unpleasant mixture of gratitude and longing, streaked with guilt and regret. And in a flash of insight, cutting with cold clarity through the fog of my fatigue, I realized what I hadn't been able to articulate earlier, not even to myself, when she'd asked me what I was afraid of. It had been this, the moment after, when I would come face to face with knowing that it would all end badly, if not this morning, then the next one. Or the one after that. — Barry Eisler

Unable to resist any longer, he buried his fingers in the hair at the base of her neck and angled her face upward. He leaned forward and dropped soft little kisses onto her lips, starting at the corner and working his way across until she began to stir. Her lashes flittered. "Gid - ?" He smothered her question with his kiss. No longer playful, he took her mouth fully, holding nothing back. She was no longer Adelaide Proctor, governess. She was Adelaide Westcott, wife. His wife. It didn't take long for her to recover from her surprise. She clasped his shoulder for support and stretched toward him. His pulse surged, and when she finally pulled away, he refused to let her separate from him completely. He rested his forehead against hers and listened to their ragged breaths echoing in the quiet morning. "Feeling better today, are we?" Adelaide asked as she lowered her head back down to her pillow, her face a becoming shade of pink. Gideon grinned. "A little. — Karen Witemeyer

I travelled the old road every day, I took my fruits to the market,
my cattle to the meadows, I ferried my boat across the stream and
all the ways were well known to me.
One morning my basket was heavy with wares. Men were busy in
the fields, the pastures crowded with cattle; the breast of earth
heaved with the mirth of ripening rice.
Suddenly there was a tremor in the air, and the sky seemed to
kiss me on my forehead. My mind started up like the morning out of
mist.
I forgot to follow the track. I stepped a few paces from the
path, and my familiar world appeared strange to me, like a flower
I had only known in bud.
My everyday wisdom was ashamed. I went astray in the fairyland
of things. It was the best luck of my life that I lost my path that
morning, and found my eternal childhood. — Rabindranath Tagore