Love Towards Baby Quotes & Sayings

I barely brushed towards her cheek as I moved towards her mouth, her nails tickled my chest, driving me insane. Kissing her became my single reason for breathing. — Katie McGarry

Ask yourself, WHAT DO I WANT?" Ask yourself, how can I take a baby step towards my goal today? Have "a job" you don't like? Change your perspective from it being "a job" into a "stepping stone" to accomplish WHAT YOU WANT! It's no longer "a job" you do not enjoy. Now, you have TRANSFORMED "your job" into "a means to an end" that is SERVING YOU and WHAT YOU WANT! Allow everything you do both enjoyable and not so enjoyable to SERVE YOU for YOUR PURPOSE!
-Shay Dawkins — Shay Dawkins

Getting up, Luc finished his beer and set the empty bottle on the small outdoor table. The sooner he apologised for his outburst, the better. Walking into the house, he heard a thud. Panic filled him as he ran towards the back of the house.
He rounded the corner and almost ran over Justin. His partner had evidently been trying to get to his wheelchair. "Baby? What're you doing?" Luc asked. Kneeling on the floor, he pulled Justin into his arms.
"Coming after you," Justin said. "I'm ... sorry."
Luc held Justin tighter as his lover began to shake. He rocked the larger body back and forth like a child. "What're we gonna do with each other? I was just coming in to say the same thing to you. — Carol Lynne

The past plummeting towards me like a vulture-dropped hand to become what-purifies-and-sets-me-free, because now as I look up there is a feeling at the back of my head and after that there is only a tiny but infinite moment of utter clarity while I tumble forwards to prostrate myself before my parents' funeral pyre, a minuscule but endless instant of knowing, before I am stripped of past present memory time shame and love, a fleeting but also timeless explosion in which I bow my head yes I acquiesce yes in the necessity of the blow, and then I am empty and free, because all the Saleems go pouring out of me, from the baby who appeared in jumbo-sized front-page baby-snaps to the eighteen-year-old with his filthy dirty love, pouring out goes shame and guilt and wanting-to-please and needing-to-be-loved and determined-to-find-a-historical-role and growing-too-fast, I am free — Salman Rushdie