Love In Nepali Quotes & Sayings

Keeping you alive,
that is my primary purpose.
I am costless,
omnipresent.
Poor oxygen,
pitiable oxygen. — Santosh Lamichhane

How Can We Know for Sure That We'll Go to Heaven? — Randy Alcorn

We have to go about our business. Certainly, we'd love to have Roger aboard. There's no doubt about it. We also understand his thought process, what he's going through to try to make this decision. — Tim Purpura

I'm a succubus."
He shook his head. "No, you aren't."
"Yes, I am."
"You aren't."
I was a bit surprised to be having this conversation. "I am too."
"No. Succubi are flame-eyed and bat-winged. Everyone knows that. They don't wear jeans and sweaters. — Richelle Mead

I think of the irony that in our language [Nepali] the word for love can also mean deceit. — Jane Wilson-Howarth

-Humph! Said Ami as she then quickly pulled ahead of me, having grown tired of my silent treatment. However, as she slipped by, I couldn't resist quickly reaching over and flipping-up the back of her skirt, just enough to see that she had a panda on the back of her panties, my fingers never touching her ass, yet I could feel the warmth underneath.
-Nice bear behind you got there! So I said
She froze in mid step, and looked as if she was going to turn around, but instead she shuttered as if a tingling electric shock had gone all through her body. I then noticed that the back of her neck to the roots of her hair had turned a lobster red! Though whether that was because of embarrassment or anger or both I'm not sure. In any case, Ami's hands became tight fists, and then with a growl like a tigress she quickly stomped off. I have actually heard a growl like that since that time. It's the sound of a female Nepali snow leopard, in heat, just before it pounces on a potential mate. — Andrew James Pritchard

I kick him in the face point blank with my high heel.
He wasn't expecting that.
The Angel flies back off the stage.
"It really is you,"says Raffe. — Susan Ee

Look at the beautiful side of life and be happy. — Lailah Gifty Akita

Her hair was well brushed that day and sheened darkly in contrast with the lusterless pallor of her neck and arms. She wore the striped tee shirt which in his lone fantasies he especially liked to peel off her twisting torso. The oilcloth was divided into blue and white squares. A smear of honey stained what remained of the butter in its cool crock.
'All right. And the third Real Thing?'
She considered him. A fiery droplet in the wick of her mouth considered him. A three-colored velvet violet, of which she had done an aquarelle on the eve, considered him from its fluted crystal. She said nothing. She licked her spread fingers, still looking at him.
Van, getting no answer, left the balcony. Softly her tower crumbled in the sweet silent sun. — Vladimir Nabokov

I'm embarrassed to admit that I'm still scared of the dark. I have to have a light on all night. It's completely irrational, and my son is the same. I just hate the dark. — Louise Nurding

And I admire that. A lot. The more I'm around her, the more obvious it becomes that there's a lot more to her than a shy smile and a pretty face. — M. Leighton