Loveseat Quotes & Sayings

After years, she had relegated all thoughts of him to the closet; in time, she'd forgotten. Now she remembered. It scared her to feel this way. He had hurt her so many times. "Papa." He went to the loveseat and sat down. The cushions sagged tiredly beneath his meager weight. "I was a terrible father to you girls." It was so surprising - and true - that Vianne had no idea what to say. He sighed. "It's too late now to fix all that." She joined him at the loveseat, sat down beside him. "It's never too late," she said cautiously. Was it true? Could she forgive him? Yes. The answer came instantly, as unexpected as his appearance here. He turned to her. "I have so much to say and no time to say it. — Kristin Hannah

His familiar husky voice sent a wave of wistfulness through me. A thousand memories spun in my head, tangling together- a rocky beach strewn with driftwood trees, a garage made of plastic sheds, warm sodas in a paper bag, a tiny room with one too-small shabby loveseat. The laughter in his deep-set black eyes, the feverish heat of his big hand around mine, the flash of his white teeth against his dark skin, his face stretching into the wide smile that had always been like a key to a secret door where only kindred spirits could enter. It felt sort of like homesickness, this longing for the place and person who had sheltered me through my darkest night. — Stephenie Meyer

I'd made myself some hot chocolate, located a book with a lot of murder and mayhem,curled up on a loveseat near the fireplace, and was happily envisioning Joe as the corpse of this tale. — Rachel Hawthorne

He was barefoot, dressed in a black slacks with a thin belt and a sea-green silk shirt. His hair was damp, and he'd brushed it back away from his face. He sat down beside me on the loveseat and snuck his arm around my shoulders. He smelled fantastic. That warm summery sandalwood scent of his mixed with the jasmine.
That's got to be what heaven smells like. — Colleen Houck

The stoic contemplates fallen leaves; the epicure rakes them into a loveseat. — Bauvard

Colleen appeared on the loveseat. "Stay." "I'm staying, all right?" I leaned forward. "Would you please find Gram? Find out what happened." Colleen turned transparent. "Can't." Her voice echoed. "Why are you here if you can't help?" I shouted. "Merry." The whisper was so loud it filled the room. "What — Susan M. Boyer