Love Confession Quotes & Sayings

'God help me, yes. I don't want anything more than you. I want nothing less than you.' — T.J. Klune

I like you so much I don't know what to do with it. My heart beats so fast when I know I'm going to see you again. — Jenny Han

He wanted to tell her that all at once he fell madly in love with everything about her, the way she kissed, the taste of her lips, her voice, her smell, her nearness ... but such a premature confession at this point could make her suspicious of his intelligence. From The Cartesian Machine — Nick Tran

The act of love ... is a confession. Selfishness screams aloud, vanity shows off, or else true generosity reveals itself. — Albert Camus

I love you. You're mine. I'll kill any bastard who tries to take you from me. — Samantha Young

Love is like that. I could crush her beneath the weight of confession. — Ellen Hopkins

I often talk about unconditional love towards others. But the truth is I have always looked for favorable conditions when it comes to self-love and happiness.
Now that is what you call a true confession! — Saurabh Sharma

Then he told her, in the quiet tones of someone offloading a confession, that she was the most mazing women he had ever met. And when she lifted her swollen eyes to his, Ed mopped her bleeding nose, and he dropped his lips gently onto hers, and he did what he had wanted to do for the past forty-eight hours, even if he had been initially too dumb to know it, He kissed her. — Jojo Moyes

It's just that I love you so much, and -'
'Belle, please.'
'Please what? Please don't tell you I love you? Please don't love you?'
'I can't accept it, Belle.'
...
'How can I possibly let myself continue to love a man who can never love me back?'
'But Belle,' he whispered. 'I do love you.'
John wasn't certain how he expected her to respond, but it was certainly not in the manner she did. She stepped back as if hit ... 'No,' she finally gasped. 'No. Don't say that. Don't tell me that.' ... 'You can't do that,' she said, each word a hoarse little stab of pain. 'You're not allowed. You can't say that and not let me do the same. It isn't fair. — Julia Quinn

She tried to think of what to say to make it all better again, or at least the way it was before she'd made her confession, though she didn't regret having confessed. Perhaps that was what had been wrong with her all along. Now that the lie wasn't between them anymore, maybe she could love him again. — Cheryl Strayed

A kiss! When all is said, what is a kiss? An oath of allegiance taken in closer proximity, a promise more precise, a seal on a confession, a rose-red dot upon the letter i in loving; a secret which elects the mouth for ear; an instant of eternity murmuring like a bee; balmy communion with a flavor of flowers; a fashion of inhaling each other's hearts, and of tasting, on the brink of the lips, each other's soul! — Edmond Rostand

Repentance is shockingly beautiful when we see it not as "I sinned again, I need to repent," but as "I sinned against my God again, but He is calling me back so He can lavish me with His love and forgiveness. — James MacDonald

I am asking you to marry me because I love you," he said, "because I cannot imagine living my life without you. I want to see your face in the morning, and then at night, and a hundred times in between. I want to grow old with you, I want to laugh with you, and I want to sigh to my friends about how managing you are, all the while secretly knowing I am the luckiest man in town."
"What?" she demanded.
He shrugged. "A man's got to keep up appearances. I'll be universally detested if everyone realizes how perfect you are. — Julia Quinn

He was my comfort. He was my solace. Nearly everything I had faced in my young life, I had gotten through because of him, because he was always there for me, with soft words and a tender heart.
-Kiera Allen — S.C. Stephens

I longed that those who, I have reason to think, owe me ill will, might be eternally happy. It seemed refreshing to think of meeting them in heaven, how much soever they had injured me on earth: had no disposition to insist upon any confession from them, in order to reconciliation, and the exercise of love and kindness to them. Oh! it is an emblem of heaven itself, to love all the world with a love of kindness, forgiveness, and benevolence ... — David Brainerd

I can't bring myself to trust you. But even if you were to betray me, and even if you were to become my enemy ... would it be okay for me to love? Could you ... let me love you? — Ryohgo Narita

Confession of effort chafes against the notion that empathy should always rise unbidden, that genuine means the same thing as unwilled, that intentionality is the enemy of love. But I believe in intention and I believe in work. I believe in waking up in the middle of the night and packing our bags and leaving our worst selves for our better ones. — Leslie Jamison

I'm crazy, Zed.' There, I'd admitted it.
'Uh-huh. And I'm crazy too -about you. — Joss Stirling

Tell me something about yourself no one else knows, something I can keep for myself. — Colleen Hoover

Where there are love and generosity, there is joy. Where there are sincerity and sacrifice, there is friendship. Where there are harmony and simplicity, there is beauty. Where there are prayer and forgiveness, there is peace. Where there are moderation and patience, there is wisdom. Where there are conflicts and crises, there is opportunity. Where there are wonder and adventure, there is growth. Where there are adoration and confession, there is worship. Where there are compassion and concern, there is God. Where there are faith and hope, there is spring. — Lawrence Reed

The act of love, for instance, is a confession. — Albert Camus

Don't harden your heart. Return to the Lord. He will revive and restore you. — Lailah Gifty Akita

We fell silent and all joking ceased. We gazed mutely into each other's eyes and an intense longing for the fullest avowal of the truth forced us to a confession, requiring no words whatever, or the incommensurable misfortune that weighed upon us. With tears and sobs we sealed a vow to belong to each other alone. — Frederic Chopin

You made me happy. And I still care about you. Okay? You mean something to me - something I can't really even put into words because everything seems too lame in comparison. I've always wanted you, even when I hated you. I want you even though you drive me freaking insane. — Jennifer L. Armentrout

A diary is the last place to go if you wish to seek the truth about a person. Nobody dares to make the final confession to themselves on paper: or at least, not about love. — Lawrence Durrell

I thought it was over, all I could think was I never told you I love you. What an idiot. — Nora Roberts

Because you offer something ever rarer than power of aphidy. You offer something that few other Queens offer-love. You bestow love on all you take under your care. And intimate love to only a few. I saw it once in your eyes for me, and I want to see it again. I need to, as much as I need to breathe air. Mona Lisa, this one thing-love-you have still to give. Don not deny me. Not when my soul needs you, cries out for you. — Sunny

When the main characters meet, you're filled with this warm hopeful glow, ya know? And we laugh, sometimes till there's tears, because of all the little embarrassing situations they find themselves in trying to get together. And then there's this romantic confession of love, and your're elated because they're finally together. And they should be. You know this. And even though it was completely predictable, you cry. I cry. — Victoria Van Tiem

I must go, uncertain of my fate; but I shall return hither, or follow your party, as soon as possible. A word, a look will be enough to decide whether I enter your father's house tonight or never. — Jane Austen

And I didn't choose it, Kat. I chose you. — Ally Carter

. . .our whispered words, faintly in the darkness, dissolving
within the trees - then, fleeting words of consolation
would not suffice if feigned, and flippant words
confessed reluctance - our words
were meaningless uttered on the wind. . . — John Daniel Thieme

A love to Christ which is so cowardly and selfish that it is unwilling to proclaim by a public confession its faith in Him who hung before all the world crucified for sinners, is a love which is hardly worth the name. — Abbott Eliot Kittredge

Then know this. Between and beneath and beyond anything else i may be, i am yours. I will never leave you. never forsake you. You may rely upon sun to rise and moon to fall. For you are the heart of me. — Jay Kristoff

What was doubly disconcerting for me was that he showed such extraordinary and precocious insight in describing his own feelings that I felt he was making my own confession. — Andre Gide

Saturday, May 22d.---It is now Saturday night, and I must prepare for the holy Sabbath. My Bible and Confession of Faith are my traveling companions, and precious friends have they been to me. I bless God for that glorious summary of Christian doctrine contained in our noble standards. It has cheered my soul in many a dark hour, and sustained me in many a desponding moment. I love to read it, and ponder carefully each proof text as I pass along. — James Henley Thornwell

My dear boy, the people who only love once in their lives are really the shallow people. What they call their loyalty, and their fidelity, I call either the lethargy of custom or their lack of imagination. Faithfulness is to the emotional life what consistency is to the life of the intellect - simply a confession of failures. — Oscar Wilde

Actions punishable by jail sentences are not the only crimes. If we knew the antonym of crime, I think we would know its true nature. God ... salvation ... love ... light. But for God there is the antonym Satan, for salvation there is perdition, for love there is hate, for light there is darkness, for good, evil. Crime and prayer? Crime and repentance? Crime and confession? Crime and ... no, they're all synonymous. What is the opposite of crime? — Osamu Dazai

Cold were the lips, yet he kissed them. Salt was the honey of the hair, yet he tasted it with a bitter joy. He kissed the closed eyelids, and the wild spray that lay upon their cups was less salt than his tears.
And to the dead thing he made confession. Into the shells of its ears he poured the harsh wine of his tale. He put the little hands round his neck, and with his fingers he touched the thin reed of the throat. Bitter, bitter was his joy, and full of strange gladness was his pain. — Oscar Wilde

I love the ending of a movie where two people end up together. Preferably if there's rain and an airport or running or a confession of love. — Taylor Swift

When I opened a book now, I was seized with desperation. I felt as if I was madly in love. It was as if I were in a confession booth and the characters in the book were on the other side telling me their most intimate secrets. When I read, I was a philosopher and it was up to me to figure out the meaning of things. Reading made me feel as if I were the center of the universe. — Heather O'Neill

Remember after every autumn, the flora senses the rapturous kiss of cheerful spring.
(Book-Love Vs Destiny) — Atul Purohit

10 August, 1939

Confession: I am nineteen years old, and I've been kissed many times. But I've never been kissed like that.

It felt like drowning but not needing to breathe. Like falling but never hitting the ground. Even now, my hands are shaking, and my heart is so swollen and fat it feels like it's going to burst, or I'm going to burst. I want to cry. I want to laugh. I want to bury my head in my pillow and scream until I fall asleep, because maybe when I go to sleep I can relive it.
I can't believe it happened, yet I think I've been waiting for it to happen for the last seven years, ever since I conned Angelo into kissing me the first time. I've been waiting for him for so long, and for a couple of hours tonight, in a little world that was only big enough for the two of us, he was mine.
But I don't know if I will be able to keep him. I'm afraid when tomorrow comes, I'll be waiting for him again.
Eva Rosselli — Amy Harmon

Yelena, you've driven me crazy. You've caused me considerable trouble and I've contemplated ending your life twice since I've known you." Valek's warm breath in my ear sent a shiver down my spine.
"But you've slipped under my skin, invaded my blood and seized my heart."
"That sounds more like a poison than a person," was all I could say. His confession had both shocked and thrilled me.
"Exactly," Valek replied. "You have poisoned me. — Maria V. Snyder

The desperate violence of the way he held her, the hurting pressure of his mouth on hers, the exultant surrender of his body to the touch of hers, were not the form of a moment's pleasure - she knew that no physical hunger could bring a man to this - she knew that it was the statement she had never heard from him, the greatest confession of love a man could make. — Ayn Rand

How much blunter can I be, Sehun? After tonight, it should be pretty obvious."

"What should be pretty obvious?"

"Don't play coy."

"Kai - "

"I want you, Sehun. How many times should I tell you that?" he cupped Sehun's cheek, staring into his eyes. "And I'd go through every bit of what I went through tonight again if it were for you. — Hyperionova

I love you", once you say this sentence to a girl, it signifies that you have a responsibility towards her. — Yixing Zhang

I head someone say once that passionate people live violent lives. At the time I didn't really get it but if what they meant was the way love waits in ambush traps your well trained sense of control and tortures you into a confession you'd just as soon not make I now understand. — Jay Kopelman

I have a confession to make. I don't really want to know. I like a happy ending as well as the next person, but I love the mystery and the uncertainty and the electric current of possibility. There's a reason the best love stories end at the first kiss. Jane Austen had this down; it's all about the chase. We're not really interested in Elizabeth and Darcy after the wedding bells fade, or in Cinderella and her prince after the slipper is returned. — Sophie Blackall

Love at first sight." It comes out as hardly more than a whisper, but the quietest words carry in this vast, echoing room. "I've always thought real love could only come later. After you both know each other, trust each other. After days, or weeks, or months spent together - learning to understand everything that isn't spoken out loud."

Paul smiles, which only makes his eyes look sadder. "One can grow into the other, my lady." His words are even quieter than mine. "I have known that to be true."

When we look at each other then, he silently admits something beautiful and dangerous. Does he see the same confession in my eyes? — Claudia Gray

Confession is not betrayal. What you say or do doesn't matter; only feelings matter. If they could make me stop loving you-that would be the real betrayal. — George Orwell

Nothing in this world is hidden forever. The gold which has lain for centuries unsuspected in the ground, reveals itself one day on the surface. Sand turns traitor, and betrays the footstep that has passed over it; water gives back to the tell-tale surface the body that has been drowned. Fire itself leaves the confession, in ashes, of the substance consumed in it. Hate breaks its prison-secrecy in the thoughts, through the doorway of the eyes; and Love finds the Judas who betrays it by a kiss. Look where we will, the inevitable law of revelation is one of the laws of nature: the lasting preservation of a secret is a miracle which the world has never yet seen. — Wilkie Collins

I love you."
I stared stupidly at him. Was he joking again, reciting another line from my story? I didn't remember writing this.
He leaned in and kissed me. I didn't respond for a few seconds. My mind lagged behind what my body was feeling.
"Say it," he whispered against my lips. "I know this is hard for you. Tell me."
"I love you." Hearing my own words, I gasped at the rush of emotion.
He put his hands on either side of my jaw and took my mouth with his. — Jennifer Echols

Love? Yes, God loves us. But his love is passionate and seeks faithful, committed love in return. God does not want tame pets to fondle and feed; he wants mature, free people who will respond to him in authentic individuality. For that to happen there must be honesty and truth. The self must be toppled from its pedestal. There must be pure hearts and clear intelligence, confession of sin and commitment in faith. — Eugene H. Peterson

I have a confession."
"Oh?"
"I can't get you off my mind."
His statement robbed her of words. Heat spread down the nape of her neck. He was saying too much. ~Thomas to Chelise — Ted Dekker

Christianity did not begin with a confession. It began with an invitation into friendship, into creating a new community, into forming relationships based on love and service. — Diana Butler Bass

DON Luigi Giussani used to quote this example from Bruce Marshall's novel To Every Man a Penny. The protagonist of the novel, the abbot Father Gaston, needs to hear the confession of a young German soldier whom the French partisans are about to sentence to death. The soldier confesses his love of women and the numerous amorous adventures he has had. The young priest explains that he has to repent to obtain forgiveness and absolution. The soldier answers, "How can I repent? It was something that I enjoyed, and if I had the chance I would do it again, even now. How can I repent?" Father Gaston, who wants to absolve the man who has been marked by destiny and who's about to die, has a stroke of inspiration and asks, "But are you sorry that you are not sorry?" The young man answers impulsively, "Yes, I am sorry that I am not sorry." In other words, he apologizes for not repenting. The door was opened just a crack, allowing absolution to come in ... . — Pope Francis

I honestly love [my fans] so much. [Their] support is everything and I'm glad [they] liked [my confession]. — Lucas Cruikshank

So what do you have to confess now?"
I don't know why I'm saying any of this, except that is the truth.
"I'm confessing that I don't know if I'm ready for this."
"What is 'this'?"
"Being open. Being hurt. Liking. Not being liked. Seeing the flicker on. Seeing the flicker off. Leaping. Falling. Crashing. — David Levithan

You didn't want to put in the work to make us happen.
It was true. I had been so captivated by Duncan, so enamored, so infatuated, that I let his life drown mine for two years. I went along, and when I got tired of it, tired of it just being easy and comfortable and convenient but not love, I ended it. And that was why I had the man in my lobby looking at me like there were still places for us to go.
I had let him believe that he was my whole world, let him be everything, and then one day just stopped loving him and walked away. It was something I did, something I had always done - poured on the charm, made myself into the ideal partner, lover, friend, indispensable and irreplaceable, and then, when I got bored or tired or tapped out, instead of fighting, I just quit. It was wildly unfair, and the only people I didn't do it with were my family. Even my friends complained that I was always around and then just gone.
Nathan Qells — Mary Calmes

I'm in love with you, you stupid arse, and I'm not losing you. Got it?" she whispered against his lips before kissing him again. Her confession had stolen his breath, so all he could do was nod. "Now, once again, how do we fix you?" she asked, when they finally parted. To — Morgan Rhodes

And sometimes when I tilt my head,
in that deep sleep, I realize I forgot to tell you
what happened at work, in the thick of,
all other rubbish daily stuff.
And then I hate to believe, it's more than
5 hours to hit the snooze, and now suddenly
the night seems longer- than any lazy afternoon.
I want to talk to you now, before I forget
How I have imagined you will react, word by word,
And act by act.
But I kind of manage dozing off in a few minutes,
And I clearly forget it morning,
This entire instance.

But tonight- when you are asleep, and I am
Wide awake like a snake, I don't say I forgot any
Buzz to discuss, but I have this insane gush
Of words of tell you I how much I have loved you through.
Precisely none of this should be forgotten,
So I decide to write this poem and tell you,
I am so much in my moment of truth. — Jasleen Kaur Gumber

Max realized that an explanation was no longer important. "I'm here because I love you," he said simply. — Diana Lanham

How shall I get through the months or years of my future life, in company with that man
my greatest enemy
for none could injure me as he has done? Oh! when I think how fondly, how foolishly I have loved him, how madly I have trusted him, how constantly I have laboured, and studied, and prayed, and struggled for his advantage, and how cruelly he has trampled on my love, betrayed my trust, scorned my prayers and tears, and efforts for his preservation
crushed my hopes, destroyed my youth's best feelings, and doomed me to a life of hopeless misery
as far as man can do it
it is not enough to say that I no longer love my husband
I HATE him! The word stares me in the face like a guilty confession, but it is true: I hate him
I hate him! — Anne Bronte

Concert pianists get to be quite chummy with dead composers. They can't help it. Classical music isn't just music. It's a personal diary. An uncensored confession in the dead of night. A baring of the soul. Take a modern example. Florence and the Machine? In the song 'Cosmic Love,' she catalogs the way in which the world has gone dark, distorting her, when she, a rather intense young woman, was left bereft by a love affair. 'The stars, the moon, they have all been blown out. — Marisha Pessl

Vanity, or to call it by a gentler name, the desire of admiration and applause, is, perhaps, the most universal principle of humanactions ... Where that desire is wanting, we are apt to be indifferent, listless, indolent, and inert ... I will own to you, under the secrecy of confession, that my vanity has very often made me take great pains to make many a woman in love with me, if I could, for whose person I would not have given a pinch of snuff. — Lord Chesterfield

I loved Emma.' The words, so flat and final, explode into the air. 'But she lied to me. I thought perhaps I could have the love without the lies. With you, I mean. Do you remember your application letter? How you talked about integrity and honesty and trust? That was what made me think it might work, that it might be better this time. But I've never loved you the way I loved her. — J.P. Delaney

If every marriage placed value on holiness, the following would be present: Confession and ownership of the problems in each individual A relentless drive toward growth and development A giving up of everything that gets in the way of love A surrendering of everything that gets in the way of truth A purity of heart where nothing toxic is allowed to grow This would be — Henry Cloud

My dear boy, the people who love only once in their lives are really the shallow people. What they call their loyalty, and their fidelity, I call either the lethargy of custom or their lack of imagination.. Faithfulness is to the emotional life what consistency is to the life of the intellect
simply a confession of failures. Faithfulness! I must analyse it some day. The passion for property is in it. There are many things that we would throw away if we were not afraid that others might pick them up. But I don't want to interrupt you. Go on with your story. — Oscar Wilde

You love Roth," he continued for me."You're in love with him."
My eyes met his bright blue ones."Yes," I whispered, my lower lip trembling."It's him. It's always been him. — Jennifer L. Armentrout

I say, 'But he does not have you,' and I kiss her through the orchard gate.
It's a kiss I have longed to take. A kiss that gently tugs at Astrid's seething power, at the wildness inside both of us. It's sweet and feels like a confession: I love her. — Tessa Gratton

With you I feel like I'm already good enough; I only have to believe it. I can't lose you again." He needed to make the confession because he was realising that Lachlan meant as much to him now
as he always had.
"I know." Lachlan smiled at him and stopped in their walk to draw him into his arms.
Konnor went willingly, clinging onto him. This was exactly how they had said goodbye. It felt like the perfect way to make a promise to always be friends again.
"I love you, Konnor," Lachlan whispered in his ear.
"I love you too. If I ever try to hurt you again, lock me up, shoot me, do whatever you have to do ... but don't send me away," he begged him never to separate them again. — Elaine White

I have a confession to make. The love affair of my life has been with the Greek language. I have now reached the age when it has occurred to me that I may have read some books for the last time. I suddenly thought that there are books I cannot bear not to read again before I die. One that stands out a mile is Homer's Iliad. — William Golding

Then he just blurted it out, with no preparation. 'The truth of it is that whether your mother arranged our marriage, or whether it was all an illusion, I must be horribly obtuse, because I can't talk myself out of being in love with you. — Eloisa James

I don't know. I don't know, Jess," he said as a sob shuddered through him. "Because I am a damned fool. Fuck! I
have everything I want right in front of me, I love you so damned much I can't think straight, and then it's like ... I don't
know, like I'm so afraid of losing you, that I keep pushing you away so maybe I'll stop caring as much and then it won't hurt as bad if I do lose you. It's so fucking twisted even I don't understand it. — M.L. Rhodes

A hug is a display of love that begins on the physical end of the spectrum but bleeds into the emotional end of the spectrum if you let it, if you give into it. It's the most innocent, pure form of physical human connection there is. It only takes two willing people, who don't even have to know each other, to participate. Two willing people who want that exchange. It's so easy, but there are people who never get them. People who never get them," she repeats softly, it's a confession. — Kim Holden

Listen.
I will lose myself
if it means I can find you. — Alaska Gold

Before I could reply, he had picked me up, literally swept me off my feet, and kissed me. And afterwards, when I tried to speak, he silenced me in much the same manner. It was a shock (but not at all distasteful) to be so caught up. Later - when he at last set me down - he handled me more gently. He took of my glasses and told me that he loved me. — Jennifer Paynter

This girl holds my heart in her hand and she's squishing it to nothing with her confession. — Siobhan Davis

Sean slowly met her eyes. He knew damn well that now wasn't the time to have this conversation, not when they were parked a hundred yards from the warehouse, but he couldn't stop the confession. "I love you, you know. — Elle Kennedy

Love can't cover over the sins we cover up ... If you want God and others to cover over your sin, stop covering it up. — Mark Buchanan

Do not be afraid of Confession! One who is in line to confess himself feels all these things - even shame - but then, when he finishes confessing, he leaves free, great, beautiful, forgiven, [ ... ] happy. And this is the beauty of Confession ... Jesus is there ... and He receives you with so much love. — Pope Francis

I like being able to wake up with you. I like knowing you'll be there if I need you," he continued, obviously uncomfortable with what he was saying but refusing to be deterred now that he'd begun. "I like being with you, Zane. And I'd like to keep that up now that you're here," he admitted shakily. He met Zane's eyes determinedly. "I want you. — Madeleine Urban

Step ahead immediately and do what you have to do before it's too late. — Moutasem Algharati

Finally, it is wrong to say that "nothing" is more basic to the identity of the church than suffering. Nothing is more basic to the identity of the institutional church than the preaching of the gospel, the correct administration of the sacraments, and the worship of God in Spirit and in truth (Westminster Confession of Faith, 25.4). Nothing is more basic to the identity of the individual Christian than faith, hope, obedience, and love, the fruit of the Spirit (cf. 1 Cor. 13:4-13; Gal. 5:22-24; 1 John 2:3; 3:10, 24; 4:7-21; 5:1-3). — Keith A. Mathison

"I love you," she whispered.
How horrifying, and how thrilling. It felt like a secret, a confession, a taunt: a dare to fate.
But he did not seem to think it remarkable or daring. "I know," he said, and his thumbs stroked her wrists, once. "We love each other. And look, darling: the world continues to turn." — Meredith Duran

Lucien?"
"Yes, Alice?"
Her heart was pounding, but she willed herself to muster the courage to reach out to him - unpredictable, dangerous as he was. "I think it's real. — Gaelen Foley

Wrong Question: How to love?
Right Question: Why am I afraid to love?
Wrong Question: Why do you love me?
Right Question: Do I love myself as much as you do?
Wrong Question: Why does love hurt?
Right Question: Why do I live in fantasies and expect so much without really giving anything back?
Wrong Question: What will you do for me?
Right Question: Am I capable of making your life more beautiful?
Wrong interpretation: Let's be practical.
Right interpretation: Let's be wild and unconditional in our love without pretending.
Wrong Confession: I want love in life.
Right Confession: I am lonely and I will start by being friendly with myself first.
Wrong Advice: Mind and Thoughts
Right Advice: Heart — Saurabh Sharma

This life is quite a rave- few heartaches, some long waits, altering faiths & breaking cliches! — Jasleen Kaur Gumber

Lysley Tenorio is a writer of sly wit and lively invention - these are stories bursting with wonders (from monster movies and leper colonies, to faith-healers and superheroes) - but most wondrous of all is his intimate sense of character. Each story is a confession of love betrayed, told with a mournful, austere tenderness as heartbreaking as it is breathtaking. — Peter Ho Davies

Love can be expressed in a myriad of different methods, but the most timeless and most treasured will always remain the classic love letter. — Auliq Ice

I need to capture my sprite with trembling hands. Except I could crush her. Wonder how many small things of beauty - flowers, seashells, dragonflies - have met such a demise. Wonder how much fragile love has collapsed beneath the weight of confession. — Ellen Hopkins

The church is not a theological classroom. It is a conversion, confession, repentance, reconciliation, forgiveness and sanctification center, where flawed people place their faith in Christ, gather to know and love him better, and learn to love others as he designed. — Paul David Tripp

After listening to modern tirades against the great creeds of the Church, one receives a shock when one turns to the Westminster Confession ... and discovers that in doing so one has turned from shallow modern phrases to a "dead orthodoxy" that is pulsating with life in every word. In such orthodoxy there is life enough to set the whole world aglow with Christian love. — John Gresham Machen

Prayer is an act of worship. Prayer is act of submission. Prayer is act of obedience. But prayer is also an act of admission. Every instance of prayer is a confession in which I own my condition and embrace my need ... To reduce prayer to a grocery list of things you ant and think you need not only demeans prayer, but it also demeans the sacrifice of love that the One to whom you are praying made so that you and your prayers would be received. The heart of true prayer is vertical confession, not horizontal desire. — Paul David Tripp

It would be easier to forget you," he says to me, "and these past few weeks we've had together. It would be easier if I could hate you. But the sad truth is, I will more than likely love you for the rest of my life. — Amy Ewing

Confession is a difficult Discipline for us because we all too often view the believing community as a fellowship of saints before we see it as a fellowship of sinners. We feel that everyone else has advanced so far into holiness that we are isolated and alone in our sin. We cannot bear to reveal our failures and shortcomings to others. We imagine that we are the only ones who have not stepped onto the high road to heaven. Therefore, we hide ourselves from one another and live in veiled lies and hypocrisy.
But if we know that the people of God are first a fellowship of sinners, we are freed to hear the unconditional call of God's love and to confess our needs openly before our brothers and sisters. We know we are not alone in our sin. The fear and pride that cling to us like barnacles cling to others also. We are sinners together. In acts of mutual confession we release the power that heals. Our humanity is no longer denied, but transformed. — Richard J. Foster

I also finally see that a crimson kiss isn't something you can chase, because it's more than just the passionate meeting of mouths.
It's a confession.
It's the truth your lips whisper to someone you love. — Wendelin Van Draanen

I don't have any fancy story,
about the way we fell in love.
It was that one awkward move,
and the next I remember,
I was looking at you. — Jasleen Kaur Gumber

- And you completely blow me away and rip my world up and everything else, and then you go back to ignoring me."
"I blew you away?" I squeak out before I can stop myself.
He stares at me steadily. "You blew everything away. — Lauren Oliver

Let me begin with a heartfelt confession.
I admit it. I am a biblioholic, one who loves books and whose life would seem incomplete without them. I am an addict, with a compulsive need to stop by nearly any bookstore I pass in order to get my fix. Books are an essential part of my life, the place where I have spent many unforgettable moments. For me, reading is one of the most enjoyable ways to pass a rainy afternoon or a leisurely summer day. I crave the knowledge and insights that truly great books bring into my life and can spend transported hours scouring used book stores for volumes which "I simply must have". I love the smell and feel of well-loved books and the look of a bookcase full of books waiting to be taken down and read. — Terry W. Glaspey