Love Hint Quotes & Sayings

Sly and reckless, compulsive and bold. The goat-god, with hoof and smile and hairy ears, satyr at the helm of the Play Pen. Love him, understand him, forgive him, lead him shyly to Freud, or Jesus. Or else take the contemporarily untenable position that evil, undiluted by any hint of childhood trauma, does exist in the world, exists for its own precise sake, the pustular bequest from the beast, as inexplicable as Belsen. — John D. MacDonald

I will love you like the desert burns along the sun when they are together,
and when you will be gone,
just like every one else,
I will cry for you like the snow that melts at the first hint of summer ...
and hoping that you'll be back
I will miss you like the clouds lose themselves when it rains ... — Sanhita Baruah

Jacin said nothing else. Neither did she. After the first ring was completed, she leaned her head against his thigh, making herself more comfortable as she picked out a sunburst orange. Overhead, Jacin sighed, and she felt the faintest brush of fingertips against her hair. A hint, a suggestion of togetherness, before he became a statue once more. — Marissa Meyer

There wasn't a hint of condescension in either her expression or her voice. No pity, no regret. She was completely sincere. It hit him then that he was the one making a deal out of all of this, turning it into something it wasn't. Leah was here to do the work that needed to be done. Because she believed in him. Because she cared for him. She wasn't judging him. She wasn't embarrassed for or by him. She wasn't fazed by his fumbling. At all. A different sort of heat rushed over him then, and he bowed his head as it hit him how profoundly, stunningly lucky he was. In the midst of all the shit he'd been dealing with, he'd found this amazing, generous woman. — Sarah Mayberry

A hundred years or more, she's bent her crown
in storm, in sun, in moonsplashed midnight breeze.
surviving all the random vagaries
of this harsh world. A dense - twigged veil drifts down
from crown along her trunk - mourning slow wood
that rustles tattered, in a hint of wind
this January dusk, cloudy, purpling
the ground with sudden shadows.
How she broods -
you speculate - on dark surprise and loss,
alone these many years, despondent, bent,
her bolt-cracked mate transformed to splinters, moss.
Though not alone, you feel the sadness of a
twilight breeze. There's never enough love;
the widow nods to you. Her branches moan. — Lauren Lipton

He framed her face with his calloused hands and looked down at her. His beautiful blue eyes searched her face and all her fears fled. In his eyes she saw everything she needed. Gentleness, kindness, passion and ... maybe, just maybe a hint of love. — Tamara Hoffa

Never a day will go by that I won't love you. And never will there be a hint of uncertainty that you belong anywhere else but right here. — Nashoda Rose

Do you think you have the right to give me orders now?"
The Archangel of New York, a creature so lethal that part of her feared him even now, lifted the hair off her nape, brushed his lips across her skin. "Of course. You are mine." No hint of humor, nothing but stark possession.
"I don't think you've quite got the hang of this true love thing. — Nalini Singh

We'll choose knowledge no matter what, we'll maim ourselves in the process, we'll stick our hands into the flames for it if necessary. Curiosity is not our only motive; love or grief or despair or hatred is what drives us on. We'll spy relentlessly on the dead; we'll open their letters, we'll read their journals, we'll go through their trash, hoping for a hint, a final word, an explanation, from those who have deserted us
who've left us holding the bag, which is often a good deal emptier than we'd supposed. — Margaret Atwood

Sam glanced at her, a hint of amusement shining in his eyes.
Celaena smiled at him, and the world, for one flickering heartbeat, felt right. — Sarah J. Maas

I love the way he looks in his uniform, all man with just a hint of the boy I fell for all those years ago. — Collette West

I love color. It must submit to me. And I love art. I kneel before it, and it must become mine. Everything around me glows with passion. Every day reveals a new red flower, glowing, scarlet red. Everyone around me carries them. Some wear them quietly hidden in their hearts. And they are like poppies just opening, of which one can see only here and there a hint of red petal peeking out from the green bud. — Paula Modersohn-Becker

Your guardian angel's a man?" She gave me a little wry look, and for the first time in days, I saw a hint of the old Lola coming back to life. "Of course. I like to imagine he's hopelessly in love with me, but we can never be together because it's against the rules. — L. H. Cosway

What do you know about 1969, anyway? It was after your time."
"I know everything." He gave me that sleepy-eyed smile of his. "Love or money, I'm afraid."
"Great," I sighed, unable not to think about Alex and trips to Europe and the Hannandas with their Prada bags. "The two things that show absolutely no hint of ever coming my way. Shoot me now."
"I can't, darling girl. No arms. Besides, even if I had the ability, I would never do such a thing. It would be dastardly.And..."
"And?"
"Ah,Ella.Fond of you as I am, there is no passion in my feelings."
"Love or money," I droned.
"Love or money," Edward agreed. — Melissa Jensen

And in the end... Not even that old familiar sensation of emptiness. Just a hint of helplessness, a frustration for a lost time from a result prematurely injured and failed. — Irina Sopas

He believed that God was all merciful. Reason and sense might hint that a more pleasant manner of deliverance might be found, that some compromise might be effected, and many hardships be avoided. But faith told Moses that God was love, and would not give His people one drop of bitterness beyond what was absolutely needed. — J.C. Ryle

Curtis looked up into those sparkling green eyes, full of life, full of kindness, full of potential love, with just a hint of mischief. But that was going to make going out with Genesis so much fun. Curtis needed a lot more of that in his life. It'd been lacking for many years. He had his family now and hopefully a new man. He knew Genesis would be the perfect Southern gentleman until he turned eighteen, but that was okay. It was more than okay. He may be a superstar athlete, but he was raised by a good Christian mom who'd taught her sons well. Curtis was going to do everything he could to be a good match for Genesis Godfrey. "You're — A.E. Via

When I go out by the gateway, taking the road I drove along that first time I picked up Lotte for the ball, how very different it all is! It is all over, all of it! There is not a hint of the world that once was, not one bulse-beat of those past emotions. I feel like a ghost returning to the burnt-out ruins of the castle he built in his prime as a prince, which he adorned with magnificent splendours and then, on his deathbed, but full of hope, left to his beloved son — Johann Wolfgang Von Goethe

You can't hint a man into bestowing the ideal gift that displays all the love, appreciation and understanding you feel is lacking the rest of year. — Lynn Coady

Dawn will come,' I told him quietly. 'The night can be very dark; but I'll stay by you until the sun rises. These shadows cannot touch you while I am here. Soon we'll see the first hint of grey in the sky, the color of a pigeon's coat, then the smallest touch of the sun's finger, and one bird will be bold enough to wake first and sing of tall trees and open skies and freedom. Then all will brighten and color will wash across the earth and it will be a new day. I will stay with you, until then. — Juliet Marillier

But I realize now that the art of living in the present is not so much controlling time, it's losing track of time. This is most likely to happen when we surrender to something we love to do: not because it's a demand, or an emergency, or an inability to do anything else. Seeking out what we love so much that we lose track of time when we're doing it - that goes beyond Einstein's theory and puts us into his life. He loved his work so much that he had to be careful while shaving; otherwise, he cut himself when a spontaneous idea struck. That is a hint of the timeless Now. — Gloria Steinem

I must go now", she said slowly and slipped her hand from his. Aarav looked at her face.. the water droplets pretended to be some shining gems embedded on a fine piece of white marble and a few strands of wet hair across, like some graceful ancient art on it. It took him a while to understand what she said. She just smiled softly with a hint of shyness. He kept looking at her.. the strands still intact, bothering him for some unknown reason. He raised his hand slowly towards her face.. her smile ceased with the movement. His dark brown eyes laid firm on her black ones, hearts pounding like door knocks.. he touched her face with his finger.. she half closed her eyes. — Syed Arshad

Yet, if the most frequent sex and apparently the best sex is that between married partners who are faithful to one another, is there not a hint that affection might be an important aspect of sex? Even love? — Andrew Greeley

I knew then that I'd been right. I had felt something changing between us in the weeks before my death - slow and steady - but just hadn't wanted to admit it. A distance had been brewing, all chilly and gray. I'd chosen to sit and watch the storm clouds gather instead of running for cover at the first hint of rain. And I had paid the price for waiting. Because the storm became a hurricane. — Jess Rothenberg

I wanted this to be easy. I wanted to know for sure who I loved and why. I wanted to be in love without a hint of doubt.
But I realised that I could want as hard as I liked; the reality was already messier than I liked. I was in over my head ... and I had a panicked feeling that I wasn't going to be able to manoeuvre this without screwing up big time. — Liz Reinhardt

The cloudless day is richer at its close;
A golden glory settles on the lea;
Soft, stealing shadows hint of cool repose
To mellowing landscape, and to calming sea.
And in that nobler, gentler, lovelier light,
The soul to sweeter, loftier bliss inclines;
Freed form the noonday glare, the favour'd sight
Increasing grace in earth and sky divines.
But ere the purest radiance crowns the green,
Or fairest lustre fills th' expectant grove,
The twilight thickens, and the fleeting scene
Leaves but a hallow'd memory of love! — H.P. Lovecraft

Bryn," he said. "Do you know how much I love you?"
I smiled and answered with a hint of sarcasm in my tone, "Well, I'm not quite sure."
"No, I'm serious," Tyler said, turning over onto his side so that he was facing me. His eyes were serious, something that I only saw when he really had something to say.
"Yeah, I do. It's the kind that hurts so good, right? Almost like you can't breathe without the other person and the only thing that keeps you sane throughout the day is knowing that you'll see that person soon enough. Nothing can come between you and that person. You would do anything for them. Be anyone they need you to be. Without thinking twice, you know you will be there, no matter what. That's what loving you is to me. — Alexandria Rhodes

Evie stiffened and whimpered in surprise at the realization that she was naked... that St. Vincent was making love to her and had been for some minutes.
St. Vincent glanced up at her. With the slight flush on the crests of his cheeks, his eyes seemed lighter and more startling than usual. The hint of a relaxed but devious smile touched the corners of his mouth. "You're difficult to awaken," he said huskily. — Lisa Kleypas

Okay, I said, what's so hot about playing the piano?
She told me that the most important thing was to establish the tenderness right off the bat, or at least close to the top of the piece, just a hint of it, a whisper, but a deep whisper because the tension will mount, the excitement and the drama will build - I was writing it down as fast as I could - and when the action rises the audience might remember the earlier moment of tenderness, and remembering will make them long to return to infancy, to safety, to pure love, then you might move away from that, put the violence and agony of life into every note, building, building still, until there is an important decision to make: return to tenderness, even briefly, glancingly, or continue on with the truth, the violence, the pain, the tragedy, to the very end. — Miriam Toews

And what does he feel?"
"He feels uneasy. A little afaid. Angry. Oddly, a hint of pride."
"Good," Henry said. "ANd where are you?"
"Backstage."
Henry shook his head gravely. "THere's no such thing as backstage. The play begins, and there's only the world it dramatizes. Now, where are you?"
"With my father, the president. In his chambers."
"Right. With me. Your father. And now
this is important
do you love me?"
Nelson considered this; or rather, Nelson, as Alejo, considered this.
"Yes," he said after a moment. "I do."
"Good. Remember that. In every scene
even when you hate me, you also love me. That's why it hurts. Got it?"
Nelson said that he did.
"Are you sure?"
"Yes."
"Good. Because it does hurt," Henry said. "DOn't forget that. It's supposed to. Always. — Daniel Alarcon

It's so fucking cheap when people say I love you. It's a name to stick on a surge of hormones, with a little hint of loyalty thrown in. I've never liked saying it. Here's what I say: We're together, now and until the end. You have everything I need to be happy. You make me feel right. — Joe Hill

Meredith bundled her shawl more tightly around her shoulders before ducking her head and scurrying past his brother. Travis knew he probably looked like a lovesick pup just standing there watching her go, but he didn't care. Crockett even came into the room and stared into the newly emptied hall alongside him, obviously trying to taunt him out of his stupor. "So when are you finally going to tell her that you're insanely in love with her?" Crockett asked, only a hint of teasing in his voice. Travis rubbed a hand over his whiskery jaw, reaching his fingers up to the place she had kissed. "Tonight. Definitely tonight. — Karen Witemeyer

At last everything was satisfactorily arranged, and I could not help admiring the setting: these mingled touches betrayed on a small scale the inspiration of a poet, the research of a scientist, the good taste of an artist, the gourmet's fondness for good food, and the love of flowers, which concealed in their delicate shadows a hint of the love of women — August Strindberg

The woods grew increasingly dense as Wolf walked farther from the castle. A hoot from an owl just overhead made Aralorn-the-mouse cringe tighter against his neck. "Lots of nasties in these woods," she said in a mouselike voice devoid of all but a hint of humor.
"And I," announced Wolf in a grim voice that was designed to let Aralorn know that it was time to be serious, "am the nastiest of all."
"Are you really?" asked Aralorn in an interested sort of tone. "Oh, I just adore nasties."
Wolf stopped and looked at the mouse sitting innocently on his shoulder. Most people cowered under that look. Aralorn began, industriously, to clean her whiskers. When Wolf started to walk again, though, she said in a stage whisper, "I really do, you know. — Patricia Briggs

Words such as union, fusion, and symbiosis hint at the ineffable oneness with Jesus that the apostle Paul experienced: "It is no longer I who live, but Christ lives in me" (Gal. 2:20). No human word is even remotely adequate to convey the mysterious and furious longing of Jesus for you and me to live in His smile and hang on His words. But union comes close, very close; it is a word pregnant with a reality that surpasses understanding, the only reality worth yearning for with love and patience, the only reality before which we should stay very quiet. CEASE STRIVING AND KNOW THAT I AM GOD. (PS. 46:10 NASB) — Brennan Manning

I'm tired of having to remind myself that the women who are after me wish only an experience or a reputation and not a lifetime. I'm tired of holding myself back. I'm tired of having to flatten all but the barest hint of affection."
Her breath caught.
"I'm tired," he said, "Of not letting myself fall in love. — Courtney Milan

Nd I shall think her very mean indeed if she does not give me some of her gloves, for she has many of them, I've seen them myself ... and as you can see, I took the hint ... but not much love went into THAT package did it, my dear? — Louisa May Alcott

I'm thinking that I was a lonely, hopeless person, and I might have fallen in love with the first thing that showed me a hint of kindness and safety. And I'm thinking maybe he knew that - maybe not actively, but maybe he wanted to be that person for someone. And maybe that worked for who I was before. Maybe it doesn't work for who - what I am now. — Sarah J. Maas

What you think you are inside doesn't matter, Morgan." She hastened over to sit beside him. "In the end, it's what a man does, how he acts, that shows his character. And I've never seen you act anything but nobly."
He lifted his face to hers, astonished at how fiercely she defended him, even after knowing the darkest secrets of his soul. "How can you be so sure of my character when I'm not even sure of it myself?"
"I can't help it," she said, her voice trembling. She dropped her eyes to the bench, turmoil showing in her sweet features. "I love you. And loving someone means believing in them."
She loved him? Despite knowing what he was? A fierce joy seized him before he could prevent it. He caught her by the chin and forced her to look at him, but her clear blue eyes held no hint of deception. "God help you if you don't mean that, ma belle ange. — Sabrina Jeffries

The pianist smiled at him, a smile of amusement with only the barest hint of apology. And not the least bit of shame. Fuck.
No ... not that. Anything but that . Whatever hope had been in Kingsley's heart a second earlier shattered and died like the last stray note of a symphony. The old love, the old desire coursed through his veins and into his heart, and there was no stopping it. He met the blond pianist's eyes - the priest's eyes - and released the breath he'd forgotten he'd been holding.
"Mon Dieu ... "
My God. — Tiffany Reisz

We follow our scripts like actors in a very large, very long production. And even with no audience, none of us gives a hint that it isn't real. — Ann Brashares

We grew up in a place without a hint of love. Perhaps this was the single thing that bound us forever. — Vadim Babenko

It's kind of weird," she told Qi. "Gilly doesn't run up and kiss people. She doesn't dance. Se's usually so quiet. I mean, it's cool as hell, but for Gilly, it's weird."
"Part of it is Maggie," Qi said. "She has a talent for making people fall in love with her."
Sam started to nod, then she remembered she was talking to a witch. "So is Gilly like ... under like ... "
"A spell?" A hint of a smile crossed Qi's face. "Don't worry. Maggie just loves everybody, finds something good in everybody. And when people see the way she sees them, they tend to fall in love right back. — Kristopher Reisz

I adore my mother, but I fear for her. She seems helpless, caught in the vortex of my father's dark moods and unpredictable behavior. I try never to displease her. I love the scent of Juicy Fruit gum on her breath and the hint of Joy perfume on her neck, the crisp crinkle of her hair stiff with aerosol spray and the chipped pink polish on her nails. — Kristen Iversen

Soon as you ask someone how they are and they give you a hint of mediocrity or less, say, 'The Universe wants you to know that I love you. — Ace Antonio Hall

It's beautiful here," Rees murmured, watching the light play upon the water before returning his gaze to her.
Mrs. Hollingsworth, his newest client, turned to him and forced a stiff smile. "Yes, money can buy all kinds of beautiful things," she said without a hint of emotion. — D.A. Rhine

I love to make music that makes people feel mood-enhancing, life-affirming brilliance but I just make whatever comes out at the time and sometimes it's up and sometimes it down and sometimes it sideways with a hint of s smile. — Eliza Doolittle

I love the hint of copper in your eyes, radiating out like the sun, turning your pupils into an eclipse.' He ran his thumb down my cheekbone. 'The different striations of color, how every band of green is its own unique shade. A shard of a broken Heineken bottle, a blade of grass, moss on a rusty can.'

'Romantic...' I laughed. — Anastasia Hopcus

Very well," she said after a moment. "Here is how I see that loyalty and love are the same: You would lay down your life for someone for reasons of both love and loyalty. But loyalty implies dependence, doesn't it? For instance, dogs are loyal. It also implies indebtedness. For instance, servants are loyal."
"It also implies integrity. And honor. And - "
"Steadfastness," she completed, with only a hint of irony.
"So you see them as absolutes then, Miss Redmond? Love means to be willing to die for someone, and loyalty perhaps the same?"
"How can they be otherwise? — Julie Anne Long

I felt you before I knew of your existence, maybe it was a hint from the universe to continue on the yellow brick road, so when I would find you along my travels I would simply just know. — Nikki Rowe

No doubt there are some who, when confronted with a line of mathematical symbols, however simply presented, can only see the face of a stern parent or teacher who tried to force into them a non-comprehending parrot-like apparent competence
a duty and a duty alone
and no hint of magic or beauty of the subject might be allowed to come through. — Roger Penrose

I would see him, Edward.'
It was no request; he knew it to be an ultimatum. He shook his head violently, not trusting his voice. Time passed. She was staring at him, saying nothing, and on her face was a look of stunned disbelief, of anguished accusation he knew would haunt him for the rest of his life. But when she spoke, her voice held no hint of tears. It was not a voice to offer either understanding or absolution, spoke of no quarter given, of a lifetime of love denied.
'God may forgive you for this,' she said, very slowly and distinctly, 'but I never shall. — Sharon Kay Penman

Hullo!" she says to both of us serenely. "We're here to rescue your friends, and all their limbs." A pause, then: "Well, no. I can't promise all their limbs, but most, surely . . ."

"What my sister is trying to say," Kiaran interrupts, "is that we'll bring them back alive. Mostly in one piece." I love the way he looks at me then, with expectation, a hint of a smile. God, I missed this. — Elizabeth May

When Love comes suddenly and taps
on your window, run and let it in but first
shut the door of your reason.
Even the smallest hint chases love away
like smoke that drowns the freshness
of the morning breeze.
To reason Love can only say,
the way is barred, you can't pass through
but to the lover it offers a hundred blessings.
Before the mind decides to take a step
Love has reached the seventh heaven.
Before the mind can figure how
Love has climbed the Holy Mountain.
I must stop this talk now and let
Love speak from its nest of silence. — Rumi

And though he continued never to express a single word of love for me, not in any way of his several languages, I could not take a hint. Let the hint be written across the heavens in skywriting done by several planes - I was dense. Even skywriting, well, it wasn't always certain: it might not cover the whole entire sky, or some breeze might smudge it, so who could really say for sure what it said? Even skywriting wouldn't have worked! Several years later, I would wonder why I had thought my feelings for this man were anything but a raw, thrilling, vigilant infatuation. But I still had called them love. I was in love. I had learned the Portuguese and the Arabic for love, but all for naught. — Lorrie Moore

He had not breathed a word of love, or dropped one hint of tenderness or affection, and yet I had been supremely happy. To be near him, to hear him talk as he did talk, and to feel that he thought me worthy to be so spoken to - capable of understanding and duly appreciating such discourse - was enough. — Anne Bronte

This time I look at him longer, properly, scanning his face for some sign of what he is thinking - some judgment, some hint of blame or guilt that I'm standing there, talking about leaving his people and mine, about abandoning our whole lives. About running away. But he only smiles at me, his fingers sliding from my cheek to twine around a floating lock of hair, making it spiral in midair. — Amie Kaufman

Christlike love is the greatest need we have on this planet ... So if love is to be our watchword, as it must be, them by the word of Him who is love personified, we must forsake transgression and any hint of advocacy for it in others. — Jeffrey R. Holland

(Wolf) shrugged, without a hint of self-pity. "I don't know what they can or can't grow in the agriculture sectors. Whatever it is, I'm sure it can't compete with Benoit Farms and Gardens." His eyes twinkled, and Scarlet - to her own surprise - started to blush again.
"You two are giving me a stomachache," Thorne griped.
"I'm pretty sure that's the meat," said Cinder, ripping a piece of dried mystery meat with her teeth. — Marissa Meyer

Sometimes I feel like I'm losing my mind," she said with a hint
of sadness.
"You lost your mind a long time ago," he said seriously. She looked at him with indignation. "That's a compliment for anyone who knows the freedom and clarity of losing their mind," he reaffirmed her. — Daniel J. Rice

You're killing me, love," Furi panted. He gripped the base of his cock and cupped Syn's chin trying to give him the hint. "Impatient little bottom aren't you?" Syn laughed throatily against his balls and Furi thought he'd lose his load right there. Furi slammed his eyes shut and squeezed the base of his cock. Syn took the opportunity to fully suck the head of Furi's dick into his mouth and give it a couple hard pulls. Furi yelled out in the dimly lit room but Syn didn't stop, and he wouldn't until Furi was out of his mind with ecstasy. — A.E. Via

So ... Now that we got that over with, let's get back to love at first sight, Evan said.
Not infatuation at first sight ... Love. With a capital L, he clarified.
Love? Heeb asked, playfully pretending not to know the concept.
Yeah. The real thing. The conviction that if you had this one woman, all other women would become irrelevant. You'd never again be unhappy And you'd give up anything to have her and keep her.
You've experienced that?
Only once. And I haven't stopped thinking about it ever since.
Tell me more.
Sometimes I think that I still chase women just to forget about her. Because I know I can never have her. But I can't seem to forget about her, no matter what girl I'm chasing ... No one can possibly compare ...
Who is she?
Delilah, Evan said wistfully.
Delilah?, asked Heeb, intrigued
Delilah Nakova, Evan replied, with a hint of awe and reverence in his voice. — Zack Love

Tess took a deep breath. 'You are not marrying me for love, Lord Mayne. Nor-as far as I can see-due to any overwhelming feeling of a less...less proper nature.' She could feel color rising into her cheeks.
'Now that's not true,' Mayne said. There was a hint of wicked laughter in his eyes, and his fingers tightened on hers. 'I feel quite improperly toward you.'
Goodness, but he was attractive when he wasn't hedging, when he was being honest. 'Are you not disturbed by the fact that we do not feel warmer emotions for each other?' she asked him.
'I would be disturbed if we /did/ ... I do not wish for a tempestuous marriage, although I am quite certain that there will be sufficient warmth between us.'
'And in your estimation, tempests must accompany love,' she said, raising an eyebrow. — Eloisa James

There are some things that don't change much. I find the smell of a dish, or the way a certain spice is crushed, or just a quick look at the way something has been put on a plate, can pull me back to another place and time. I love those memories that seem so far away, yet you can hold them and carry them with you, even forget them, and then, with a single taste or hint or a smell, be chaperoned back to a beautiful moment. — Tessa Kiros

Obviously, I love to do both contemporary and historical fiction. When a hint of a story grabs me, I try to go with it to see where it will take me whatever the setting. — Katherine Paterson

My fingers gripped his sweaty T-shirt. I kept kissing
Eagan until he groaned softly in his sleep.
"I love you," I murmured against his lips.
I moved away from him. I forced myself to stand, I
grabbed my guitar case and I left.
On the bus, I kept licking my lips; I tasted him, the salt
of his sweat, and a hint of cinnamon. — Petra March