Quotes & Sayings About Morning And Love Her

It was so stupid, and random, but at that second, with the morning sun hitting her auburn hair, and her huge brown eyes fixed on him, the lock flew off the "do-not-allow-yourself-to-even-think-about-it" portion of his brain, and every feeling he ever had for her - feelings he never even realized he had for her - flooded over him like a tidal wave. Love, tenderness, desire - it hit him so hard he had to excuse himself, go to the men's room, rest his forehead against the cool metal of the bathroom stall, breathing heavily, wondering what the hell had just happened. It left him exhausted and spent, as if he'd just run a hundred miles.
And almost a year later, he was still exhausted, spent, frustrated ... and madly in love. — Claire Matthews

At lunch I turned my phone on to check my messages. Georgia always sent me a few inane texts during the day, and sure enough there were two messages from her: one complaining about her physics teacher and a second, also obviously sent from her phone: I love you, baby. V.
I wrote her back: I thought I told you to buzz off last night, you creep-o French stalker guy.
Her response came back immediately: As if! Your beet-red cheeks this morning suggest otherwise ... liar! You're so into him.
I groaned and was about to turn my phone off when I saw that there was a third text from UNKNOWN. Clicking on it, I read: Can I pick you up from school? Same place, same time?
I texted back: How'd you get my number?
Called myself from your phone while you were in the restaurant's bathroom last night. Warned you we were stalkers! — Amy Plum

But the next morning, while night owls slept, I climbed trembling to her cubicle and woke her, weeping aloud with a crazed love that lasted until it was carried away without mercy by the violent wind of real life. — Gabriel Garcia Marquez

She died early the next morning, her hand in mine, as the sun flooded through her window and the light in those luminous eyes of hers faded away forever. — Michael Schmicker

I love Carter more than I ever thought possible, and he has proven to be the best father a woman could ever want for her son. But I swear to God, Jesus, Mary, Joseph, and Christ's childhood friend, Biff, that if he doesn't stop waking me up at four-fifty-eight in the morning, every fucking morning, with his buzz saw snoring, I am going to go David Carradine on his ass. — Tara Sivec

Two free days like an open mouth. They drank beer all day in the sun and passed out, and when she woke, she was burnt all over, and it was sunset, and Lotto had started building something enormous with sand, already four feet high and ten feet long and pointing toward the sea. Woozy, standing, she asked what it was.
He said, 'spiral jetty.'
She said, 'In sand?'
He smiled and said, 'That's its beauty.'
A moment in her bursting open, expanding. She looked at him. She hand't seen it before, but there was something special here. She wanted to tunnel inside him to understand what it was. There was a light under the shyness and youth, a sweetness, a sudden surge of the old hunger in her to take a part of him into her and make him briefly hers.
Instead, she bent and helped, they all did. And deep into the morning, when it was done, they sat in silence, huddled against the cold wind and watched the tide swallow it whole. Everything had changed somehow — Lauren Groff

Love is more than desire. It's more than passion and moonlight and poetry. Love is a choice you make; it's things you do. Love is holding hands when your wife's morning sickness is so bad she wants to die. It's forgiving when you're mad, and listening to her when you want to talk. It's rubbing her feet when she's tired and you want a whole lot more. It's seeing each other at your worst and choosing to overlook what you know is true because you believe they can be better. It's doing the right thing for the other person. Even when it's hard. Especially when it's hard. That is love, Jaime. — Brandon Gray

In fact, since the accident, Mom doesn't love anyone. She is marble. Beautiful. Frigid. Easily stained by her family. What's left of us anyway. We are corpses.
At first, we sought rebirth. But resurrection devoid of her love has made us zombies. We get up every morning, skip breakfast, hurry off to work or school. For in those other places, we are more at home.
And sometimes we stagger beneath the weight of grief, the immensity of aloneness. — Ellen Hopkins

No, you don't understand, young man. You couldn't understand. Emily was my life. I got up in the morning for her, I went to work for her, I built a business for her. I couldn't wait to get home at night to tell her about my day. I went to bed with her and I dreamed about her when I slept. She was my passion, my wife, my best friend, the love of my life. And one day, without warning, she was gone and my life is a void. You couldn't possibly understand. — Christopher Moore

Eva knows I'm terra incognita and explores me unhurriedly, like you did. Because she's lean as a boy. Because her scent is almonds, meadow grass. Because if I smile at her ambition to be an Egyptologist, she kicks my shin under the table. Because she makes me think about something other than myself. Because even when serious she shines. Because she prefers travelogues to Sir Walter Scott, prefers Billy Mayerl to Mozart, and couldn't tell a C major from a sergeant major. Because I, only I, see her smile a fraction before it reaches her face. Because Emperor Robert is not a good man - his best part is commandeered by his unperformed music - but she gives me that rarest smile, anyway. Because we listened to nightjars. Because her laughter spurts through a blowhole in the top of her head and sprays all over the morning. Because a man like me has no business with this substance "beauty," yet here she is, in these soundproof chambers of my heart. — David Mitchell

Every night she breaks your heart, and yet every morning you love her more. If that's not enough, nothing will be! — Sarvesh Jain

So much time and energy, so much love and learning had gone into those long years of motherhood, and now, between a morning and a morning - or so it felt - they were over. It seemed that mothers of daughters had a more extended role but she knew that she was lucky to be allowed any part in her boys' lives and tried hard to be grateful and undemanding. It wasn't always easy, when she loved them so much, to practice detachment.... Odd that the last of the parenting skills should be the most painful: the final act of letting go. — Marcia Willett

The memory brought back the timbre of her voice and the tickle of her hair on my chin as I put her to bed that night and the feeling of belonging to someone, mattering to someone, having someone whose first smile in the morning was for you. Someone who slipped their hand into yours when they were scared and trusted you to make them feel better. Someone who knew you, the important things about you, and loved you anyway. — Michele Jaffe

This morning she told a joke to make me feel better. She's tough and funny and caring. Beautiful. And that ass. Don't look at her ass, you idiot. It's the same ass you've seen a million times, so just forget about it because the last thing you need is to start remembering what it feels like. She really isn't Lillian, is she? She sort of is, Lillian, though, in all the best ways. No, that's wrong. I'm not looking for Lillian in Lily anymore, and I haven't since we've been on the run. It's strange, but I'm starting to wonder if it wasn't Lillian I loved. Maybe what I loved was the Lily in Lillian. Oh, shit. I think I love Lily ... — Josephine Angelini

I love Demi Lovato's style. It's really different, but it's super chic and has a cool edge to it. I'm always trying to channel her style when going shopping for new clothes or getting dressed in the morning. — Kelli Berglund

I left the bed as she had left it, unmade and rumpled, coverlets awry, so that her body's print might rest still warm beside my own.
Until the next day I did not go to bathe, I wore no clothes and did not dress my hair, for fear I might erase some sweet caress.
That morning I did not eat, nor yet at dusk, and put no rouge nor powder on my lips, so that her kiss might cling a little longer.
I left the shutters closed, and did not open the door, for fear the memory of the night before might vanish with the wind. — Pierre Louis

But..." I'm not ready for you to stop being my problem.

"It makes more sense, Park. If you leave soon, you can still get home by dark.:

"But if I leave soon..." His voice dropped. "I leave soon."

"We have to say good-bye anyway." she said. "Does it matter if it's now or a few hours from now or tomorrow morning?"

"Are you kidding?" he looked down at her, hoping he'd miss his turn. "Yes. — Rainbow Rowell

That old black coat he always wore to preach in was the one he put over her shoulders one evening when they were walking along the road together and he was throwing rocks at the fence posts the way a boy would do, still shy of her. But on a Sunday morning, with the sermon in front of him he'd spent the week on and knew so well he hardly need to look at it, he was a beautiful old man, and it pleased her more than almost anything that she knew the feel of that coat, the weight of it. — Marilynne Robinson

The first morning after Westley's departure, Buttercup thought she was entitled to do nothing more than sit around moping and feeling sorry for herself. After all, the love of her life had fled, life had no meaning, how could you face the future, et cetera, et cetera. — William Goldman

A boy from Brooklyn used to cruise on summer nights.
As soon as he'd hit sixty he'd hold his hand out the window,
cupping it around the wind. He'd been assured
this is exactly how a woman's breast feels when you put
your hand around it and apply a little pressure. Now he knew,
and he loved it. Night after night, again and again, until
the weather grew cold and he had to roll the window up.
For many years afterwards he was perpetually attempting
to soar. One winter's night, holding his wife's breast
in his hand, he closed his eyes and wanted to weep.
He loved her, but it was the wind he imagined now.
As he grew older, he loved the word etcetera and refused
to abbreviate it. He loved sweet white butter. He often
pretended to be playing the organ. On one of his last mornings,
he noticed the shape of his face molded in the pillow.
He shook it out, but the next morning it reappeared. — Mary Ruefle

Dreamed of maman again. She was telling me - O cruelty! - that I didn't really love her. But I took it calmly, because I was so sure it wasn't true.

The idea that death would be a kind of sleep. But it would be horrible if we had to dream eternally.

(And this morning, her birthday. I always gave her a rose. Bought two at the little market of Mers Sultan and put them on my desk) — Roland Barthes

Thou art beautiful, O my love, as Tirzah, comely as Jerusalem, terrible as an army with banners. Turn away thine eyes from me, for they have overcome me . . . My dove, my undefiled is but one; she is the only one of her mother, she is the choice one of her that bare her. The daughters saw her, and blessed her; yea, the queens and the concubines, and they praised her. Who is she that looketh forth as the morning, fair as the moon, clear as the sun, and terrible as an army with banners? — William Struse

Nature is sanative, refining, elevating. How cunningly she hides every wrinkle of her inconceivable antiquity under roses, and violets, and morning dew! Every inch of the mountains is scarred by unimaginable convulsions, yet the new day is purple with the bloom of youth and love. — Ralph Waldo Emerson

In these days Melissa's absorbed and provoking gentleness had all the qualities of a rediscovered youth. Her long uncertain fingers - I used to feel them moving over my face when she thought I slept, as if to memorize the happiness we had shared. In her there was a pliancy, a resilience which was Oriental - a passion to serve. My shabby clothes - the way she picked up a dirty shirt seemed to engulf it with an overflowing solicitude; in the morning I found my razor beautifully cleaned and even the toothpaste laid upon the brush in readiness. Her care for me was a goad, provoking me to give my life some sort of shape and style that might match the simplicity of hers. Of her experiences in love she would never speak, turning from them with a weariness and distaste which suggested that they had been born of necessity rather than desire. She paid me the comlpiment of saying: "For the first time I am not afraid to be light-headed or foolish with a man". — Lawrence Durrell

Our family's special holiday tradition is going over to my grandparent's house on Christmas morning. My grandma cooks a big breakfast, and I love hearing her tell old funny stories. — Caroline Sunshine

I should have asked why any room in the house was better than home to me when she entered it, and barren as a desert when she went out again - why I always noticed and remembered the little changes in her dress that I had noticed and remembered in no other woman's before - why I saw her, heard her, and touched her (when we shook hands at night and morning) as I had never seen, heard, and touched any other woman in my life? — Wilkie Collins

Will. For a moment her heart hesitated. She remembered when Will had died, her agony, the long nights alone, reaching across the bed every morning when she woke up, for years expecting to find him there, and only slowly growing accustomed to the fact that side of the bed would always be empty. The moments when she had found something funny and turned to share the joke with him, only to be shocked anew that he was not there. The worst moments, when, sitting alone at breakfast, she had realized that she had forgotten the precise blue of his eyes or the depth of his laugh; that, like the sound of Jem's violin music, they had faded into the distance where memories are silent. — Cassandra Clare

And then I began to drift, fighting tears. I used to come here with Miriam. Miriam, my heart's desire. What was troubling her this morning? Maybe Kate had reproached her on the phone for leaving me? How dare Kate.
Oh yeah? Go for it, my darling. Remind her of what she's missing. No, don't. — Mordecai Richler

After untangling a cord, then moving the MacBook to the floor, Paul lay beside Erin and meekly pawed her forearm three times, then briefly held some of her fingers, which were surprisingly warm. He lay stomach-down with his arm on her arm, thinking that if she woke, while he was asleep, this contact could be viewed as accidental. Maybe she would roll toward him, resting her arm across his back - they'd both be stomach-down, as if skydiving - in an unconscious or dream-integrated manner she wouldn't remember, in the morning, when they'd wake in a kind of embrace and begin kissing, neither knowing who initiated, therefore brought together naturally, like plants that join at their roots. — Tao Lin

That's a much better kiss than the one you gave her when you won the shooting match!"
"And a much better proposal of marriage than the one you gave her yesterday morning!" Minerva chimed in.
"Leave him be!" Celia chided as Jackson went red about the ears. "He saved my life twice, figured out who killed Mama and Papa, and taught Gran some humility. We can't all be good at everything, you know."
Amid the laughter, he kissed her again, but her family didn't let that go on for long. It was cold outside, after all. Gran herded them inside to the great hall, where the servants had brought out refreshments. There, everyone had to take turns congratulating them and clamoring for all the usual details of how it had started and when it had become true love. — Sabrina Jeffries

Things that remind me of Mother are these:
the truth 'mid deception, a warm summer breeze,
the calm within chaos, a stitch in a rip,
a comforting blanket, the smile on her lip,
an ocean of love in a heart big as whales,
the morals in everyday stories she tells,
a wink amid laughter, the wisdom in books,
the peace in humility, beauty in looks,
the light and the life in a ray of the sun,
the hard work accomplished disguised as pure fun,
concern in a handclasp, encouragement too,
the hope in a clear morning sky azure blue,
the power in prayers uttered soft and sincere,
the faith in a promise, and joy in a tear.
These things all attest to the wonder and grace
of my precious mother, none else could replace. — Richelle E. Goodrich

His desperation and misery swept her up like a storm capturing the sea. She turned her mind to even these feelings, because they were his, like his terrified rage in the lift when they had first met, being wrapped in his arms in the cold well, being dazzled by his wonder at the woods and her home and her. Like being a child, awareness of him the morning chorus that woke her and the lullaby that sent her to sleep, his thoughts always her first and last song.
I love you, Kami told him, and cut. — Sarah Rees Brennan

A thousand recollected lives were passing through her, a thousand stories - of love and work, of parents and children, of duty and joy and grief. Beds slept in and meals eaten, and the bliss and pain of the body, and a view of summer leaves from a window on a morning it had rained; the nights of loneliness and the nights of love, the soul in it's body keeping always longing to be known. — Justin Cronin

I love playing 'Madame Vastra.' Although I do suffer, spending three-and-a-half hours in make-up every morning to have her lizard skin put on. I was so excited the first day when we did the make-up test, but after six hours, I was like, 'Can we finish now?' — Neve McIntosh

Charity knew that she had to be up early in the morning. And she knew that a weepy, silly, ridiculously old-fashioned love story was not the thing to watch with a broken heart. Nevertheless, she watched. And wept. And was still smiling when she fell asleep at three o'clock in the morning, with the remote in her hand and the telly still going. — Elizabeth Jane Howard

Lena's hair was sticking out in about fifteen directions, and her eyes were all small and puffy from crying. So this was what girls looked like in the morning. I had never seen one, not up close. — Kami Garcia

You know I love you, right?" The urge to kiss her goodbye was so strong that I almost broke our rules.

She smiled, beautiful and golden in the late morning light. "Not as much as I love you."

"Oh, man. This is my dream come true: having an 'I love you more' debate. Here, I'll start. I love you more. Your turn."

Sydney laughed and opened the door. "I've taken debate classes. You'd lose to my logic. — Richelle Mead

History conditioned you for epic-scale calamity. Once, when she was studying the death tolls of battles in World War I, she'd caught herself thinking, Only eight thousand men died here. Well, that's not many. Because next to, say, the million who died at the Somme, it wasn't. The stupendous numbers deadened you to the merely tragic, and history didn't average in the tame days for balance. On this day, no one in the world was murdered. A lion gave birth. Ladybugs launched on aphids. A girl in love daydreamed all morning, neglecting her chores, and wasn't even scolded. — Laini Taylor

I think the way I feel when I look at Evan comes from her. In pictures taken the day she married my dad, she was reckless, laughing, spinning around in circles. She looked like her whole world was him. She looked a kind of happy I can't even imagine.
I don't want that. I don't want to be like that. I don' want to feel the way she did because I know what happens when you do. You love with your whole heart, with everything, and you wake up one morning and kiss someone good-bye the way you always do except you mean it as good-bye forever. — Elizabeth Scott

May I ask Master a question?"
"What is it you want to know, girl?"
"Does Master love his girl?"
He moved her into the railing, the intricate cast iron of the boundary around the balcony bit into her ass. Anyone walking by and looking up would see her naked. She knew that and he knew that.
"What does she think?" He parted her legs and stood between her open thighs. Her wrists still imprisoned in his hand hung over the barrier.
"Yes?"
"Every day for the last eight years I've worn her chain around my neck. A habit I couldn't break, a ritual like clockwork every morning. Her chain around my neck, my watch on my wrist. — April Vine

When the fair gold morning of April stirred Mary Hawley awake, she turned over to her husband and saw him, little fingers pulling a frog mouth at her. — John Steinbeck

Even now, whenever I think of her, I envision a quiet Sunday morning. A gentle, clear day, just getting under way. No homework to do, just a Sunday when you could do what you wanted. She always gave me this kick-back-and-relax, Sunday-morning kind of feeling. — Haruki Murakami

For weeks Octavio returned to the shelter of the trees. The woman would appear as the sun reached midday. She would walk to the edge of the trees, find her chair and drag it to the boat pond. Every Sunday the same chair, the same spot. Every Sunday a book.
He needed only one word to imagine a hundred stories: she -
was a dancer; cooling her feet after a morning of twists and leaps.
was the daughter of a sea captain, remembering her childhood as the toy boats crossed the pond.
was an empress hiding among her subjects, shielding her face with a scarf made from the silk of ten thousand worms. Five thousand green, five thousand blue.
was a teacher, a lover of learning, patient and gentle with her students.
She - was a reader.
He had a library. — C.S. Richardson

His days passed like this, slow and methodical. And then one morning he saw her. She had brown hair and blue eyes and red shoes and a big yellow clasp in her hair.
And then there was no more peace and quiet for Ove. — Fredrik Backman

We're not going to make love? And I'm relieved. In fact, he's had a totally hands-off approach with me all day. I wonder if I should be alarmed by this turn of events, but since my inner goddess has left the building and taken my libido with her, I'll think about it in the morning. — E.L. James

Two thoughts walked into my place. The first thought said that we hadn't slept together because sex would have closed an entrance behind us and opened an exit ahead of us. The second thought told me quite clearly what to do. Maybe Takeshi's wife was right - maybe it is unsafe to base an important decision on your feelings for a person. Takeshi says the same thing often enough. Every bonk, he says, quadruples in price by the morning after. But who are Takeshi or his wife to lecture anybody? If not love, then what? I looked at the time. Three o'clock. She was how many thousand kilometers and one time zone away. I could leave some money to cover the cost of the call. "Good timing," Tomoyo answered, like I was calling from the cigarette machine around the corner. "I'm unpacking." "Missing me?" "A tiny little bit, maybe." "Liar! You don't sound surprised to hear me." I could hear the smile in her voice. "I'm not. When are you coming? — David Mitchell

There were six dolls to be taken up and dressed every morning, for Beth was a child still, and loved her pets as well as ever. Not one whole or handsome one among them; all were outcasts till Beth took them in; for, when her sisters outgrew these idols, they passed to her ... Beth cherished them all the more tenderly for that very reason, and set up a hospital for infirm dolls. No pins were ever stuck into their cotton vitals; no harsh words or blows were ever given them; no neglect ever saddened the heart of the most repulsive: but all were fed and clothed, nursed and caressed, with an affection which never failed. — Louisa May Alcott

Love is such a simple thing when we have only one-and-twenty summers and a sweet girl of seventeen trembles under our glance, as if she were a bud first opening her heart with wondering rapture to the morning. Such young unfurrowed souls roll to meet each other like two velvet peaches that touch softly and are at rest; they mingle as easily as two brooklets that ask for nothing but to entwine themselves and ripple with ever-interlacing curves in the leafiest hiding-places. — George Eliot

The sleep that flits on baby's eyes - does anybody know from where it comes? Yes, there is a rumour that it has its dwelling where, in the fairy village among shadows of the forest dimly lit with glow-worms, there hang two timid buds of enchantment. From there it comes to kiss baby's eyes.
The smile that flickers on baby's lips when he sleeps - does anybody know where it was born? Yes, there is a rumour that a young pale beam of a crescent moon touched the edge of a vanishing autumn cloud, and there the smile was first born in the dream of a dew-washed morning - the smile that flickers on baby's lips when he sleeps.
The sweet, soft freshness that blooms on baby's limbs - does anybody know where it was hidden so long? Yes, when the mother was a young girl it lay pervading her heart in tender and silent mystery of love - the sweet, soft freshness that has bloomed on baby's limbs. — Rabindranath Tagore

I love my daughter, but she had me on couscous and fixed me pastas and made me eat oatmeal every morning and what else, turkey burgers, turkey bacon, and that kind of stuff. So she wants her dad to live a long time, and I do, too. — Dusty Baker

Hannah leaned her face against his chest, and he felt the curve of her smile. "What is it?" he asked.
"Our first night together. And our first morning will be Christmas." Rafe patted her naked hip. "And I've already unwrapped my present."
"You're rather easy to shop for," she said, making him laugh.
"Always. Because Hannah, my love, the only gift I'll ever want" - he paused to kiss her smiling lips - "is you. — Lisa Kleypas

He got worse as the night wore on. Tessa tried not to think about the wound, tried not to think about what she was going to do if he died and left her alone. Instead, she concentrated on doing what she could to keep the fever down and keep him comfortable, dragging a chair over to the side of the bed when she became too weary to stay awake any longer and dozing in it for short respites.

Toward morning, he began to thrash about on the bed, muttering. She bathed his heated skin again and finally climbed into bed beside him. He quieted when she pulled his head against her breasts and stroked his hair soothingly. — Kaitlyn O'Connor

What are you going to do with your life?" In one way or another it seemed that people had been asking her this forever; teachers, her parents, friends at three in the morning, but the question had never seemed this pressing and still she was no nearer an answer ... "Live each day as if it's your last', that was the conventional advice, but really, who had the energy for that? What if it rained or you felt a bit glandy? It just wasn't practical. Better by far to be good and courageous and bold and to make difference. Not change the world exactly, but the bit around you. Cherish your friends, stay true to your principles, live passionately and fully and well. Experience new things. Love and be loved, if you ever get the chance. — David Nicholls

I realized this morning that there's no one to give me away." Rhys lowered his face until their foreheads were touching, and he was lost in the moonstone glow of her eyes. "Heart of my heart, you need no man to give you away. Just come to me of your own free will. Love me for who I am . . . just as I love you for who you are . . . and our bond will last until the stars lose their shining." "I can do that," Helen whispered. — Lisa Kleypas

She forced herself to ... turn and face him. It was easier with the width of the room between them. "I wanted to be able to take this relationship at face value, to enjoy it for what it was ... And I wanted to be sure I could walk away when it was over, completely unscathed. The problem is I can't. When you walked in this morning, all I could think was how much I'd wanted to see you, how much I'd missed you, how unhappy I'd because we were angry at each other."
She stopped, straightened her shoulders. He was grinning at her, rocking back and forth on his heels. In a minute she was sure he'd be whistling. "I'd appreciate it if you'd take that smug look off your face. This isn't -"
"I love you, Julia. — Nora Roberts

That night she dreamed of the deer. Strangely, the animal was holding her. She cuddled close into the soft fur and touched and kissed it gently. In the morning her pillow was wet with tears. — Julie Andrews Edwards

My love lives outside my window
Clouds burst to give water
So her love can grow
My love smiles to me each morning
Says she'll never leave me
And I know it's so — Stevie Wonder

Three weeks was apparently time enough to fall in love, but not long enough to fall out of love. Meg had this unfortunate truth drummed into her head each morning when she woke, hoping this would be the day that she forgot about Alex, this would be the day she could get on with her life and put Edinburgh behind her. She grimaced. Three weeks, three years, it didn't make a difference. She would remember.
Everything. — Monica McCarty

As they stood there together, Ekwefi's mind went back to the days when they were young. She had married Anene because OKonkwo was too poor then to marry. Two years after her marriage to Anene she could bear it no longer and she ran away to Okonkwo. It had been early in the morning. The moon was shining. She was going to the stream to fetch water. Okonkwo's house was on the way to the stream. She went in and knocked at his door and he came out. Even in those days he was not a man of many words. He just carried her into his bed and in the darkness began to feel around her waist for the loose end of her cloth. — Chinua Achebe

Emily looked over at Courtney. He was still asleep.
For a long time she had thought that if you loved anyone you had to tell him everything: go to him and confess as in the dream; there could be no secrets. But now in the dark of early morning with the copper bottle cold against her fee she felt that this desire to tell all was simply an evasion of responsibility, a weakness in wanting to push on to the person you love something that is your own responsibility to solve. It would be easier for her to tell Courtney all about Abe, to come to him as he sat at this desk in the chill little workroom and confess, to hand the responsibility for her ambivalence to him, to let him settle the problem of her puny conscience for her.
But I know, she thought, lying there beside him on Madame Pedroti's lumpy bed, that if I love Courtney that is the last thing I must do. If I love Courtney he must never know. — Madeleine L'Engle

If you think it means I'm asking you to move in with me, you'd be right." Her expression turned more serious. "If you also think it means that I wake up every morning wondering what I did to deserve having you back in my life, well, you'd be right about that, too."
Jack just sat there for a moment, just ... stunned. No one had ever said anything like that to him.
"Come here," he said huskily. He grabbed her chair and pulled it toward his. He kissed her, softly at first, then his hand moved to her back and pushed her close as his emotions got the better of him. He pulled back to hold her gaze. "I love you, Cameron. You know that, right?"
She kissed him back, whispering the words in his ear. "I love you, too. — Julie James

It was her. No one had eyes like that. Eyes as pure as the sky on a fresh, wintery morning. Ones that sucked him in and refused to let go. No one had her touch. Feather light and warm. A touch that sizzled his insides and brought him to his knees.
And no one had that pure, simple, cherry-vanilla scent. The sweetness that was only her, like she was a dessert made just for him. To lick, nibble, and enjoy. — Justine Dell

I missed my one true friend, my mother. She and I were close in a way I don't think many other mothers and daughters were. I slept beside her every night of my childhood: so near to her back, I could probably sketch the constellation of moles and freckles on her skin there. When I was a very little girl, every morning I would wake before her and arrange myself so that when she woke, we were eye-to-eye. I miss her, with a never-ending ache that I did not think was possible, that crowds out any other feeling and certainly all reason, and any good sense. — Kaitlyn Greenidge

There is something wonderful about a death, how everything shuts down, and all the ways you thought you were vital are not even vaguely important. Your husband can feed the kids, he can work the new oven, he can find the sausages in the fridge, after all. And his important meeting was not important, not in the slightest. And the girls will be picked up from school, and dropped off again in the morning. Your eldest daughter can remember her inhaler, and your youngest will take her gym kit with her, and it is just as you suspected - most of the stuff that you do is just stupid, really stupid, most of the stuff you do is just nagging and whining and picking up for people who are too lazy to love you. — Anne Enright

Hen Anne stopped and talked to me for the first time. I can't remember what we said, maybe our names and where we came from. at the end of the conversation I invited her to dinner at my house that night. It was Christmastime, or nearly, and I made a pizza and bought a bottle of wine. We talked until very late. That was when Anne told me she'd been to Mexico several times. Overall, her adventures were very similar to mine. Anne thought this was because the lives or the youths of any two individuals would be fundamentally alike, in spite of the obvious or even glaring differences. I preferred to think that somehow she and I had both explored the same map, fought the same doomed campaigns, received a common sentimental education. At five in the morning, or perhaps later, we went to med and made love. — Roberto Bolano

Her smile surfaced and my morning started to brighten up — Nimish Tanna

We better get over to Beckett's if you want to see how my day goes - before his crowd gets too raunchy." Blake stood up and held out his hand.
"It's eight thirty in the morning. How raunchy could they be?"
Livia wondered what, exactly, Beckett did for a living. Her question was soon answered. Everything bad. — Debra Anastasia

We cannot withdraw love without damaging ourselves. I have been badly hurt again but I see this morning that it does not really matter because I perceive the truth. Rage is the deprived infant in me but there is also a compassionate mother in me and she will come back with her healing powers in time. — May Sarton

Ian!" she cried, afraid to believe it. "I don't want you to ever regret that you married me."
He smiled, and his fingertips caressed her cheeks. "Regret it? How could I?" You are my passionate
Italian wife. You are the woman who is going to give me children and whose bed I intend to sleep in
every night. You're the reason I'll wake up every morning with a smile on my face. I love you, I will be in
love with you every day of my life, and the only day I'm leaving you is the day they put me in the ground. — Laura Lee Guhrke

I made love to her in the sweetness of the weary morning. Then, two tired angels of some kind, hung-up forlornly in an LA shelf, having found the closest and most delicious thing in life together, we fell asleep and slept till late afternoon. — Jack Kerouac

As he left Yata's home that morning, he knew that a part of his life was complete and that whatever path he chose, he would experience the ache of unfulfilled dreams. For a moment he allowed himself to feel regret at the thought of never building a cottage by the river with Trevanion. Or living the life of a simple farmer connected to the earth. Or traveling his kingdom, satisfying the nomad he had become. To be Finnikin of the Rock and the Monts and the River and the Flatlands and the Forest. To be none of those at all.
Yet he also knew that to lose her to another man would be a slow torture every day for the rest of his life. — Melina Marchetta

Some stories are easy to follow, and easy to tell. There is an introduction, a twist, and a happily-ever-after. And when telling the story, everyone forgets those small details, like that one quiet morning when the two of you woke wake up with the sunrise and talked about cookies. Or that night when she had her period, and the cramps were killing her, and she just needed your hug and something warm. — Andrea Tomic

You think a man doesn't fall down, son? A real man falls down nine times and gets up ten. You think real men don't get scared? We do, all the time, especially when the people we love can be taken away from us. The key to manhood is being there, every morning when she wakes up, every night before she goes to bed. That's what a man does. It has nothing to do with how good you are with some shiny knives. And if you let her do this thing alone, then by God - — Ann Aguirre

Good choice,' Laura Said. 'Our neighbour, Mrs Crabtree, came round this morning and she put it best. Her theory is that fame is like a bubble. It looks gorgeous on the outside, as if it's been painted with pretty colours, but when you pop it there's nothing there. She said that life, love and friendship are what matters, and that what you do is more important than what you show. — Lauren St. John

Oh my gosh," Somer whispers, one hand flying up to her mouth. "She's beautiful."
Krishnan fumbles with the papers and reads, "Asha. That's her name. Ten months old."
"What does it mean?" she asks.
"Asha? Hope." He looks up at her, smiling. "It means hope."
"Really?" She gives a little laugh, crying as well. "Well, she must be ours then."
She grasps his hand, intertwining their fingers, and kisses him.
"That's perfect, really perfect."
She rests her head on his shoulder as they stare at the photo together.
For the first time in a very long time, Somer feels a lightness in her chest. How can it be I'm already in love with this child, half a world away? The next morning, they send a telegram to the orphanage, stating they are coming to get their daughter. — Shilpi Somaya Gowda

A larceny and a missing. Me ears-ring missing and she larcen it. That gal just buss 'way like kite. She is a little duty gyal, that one. Never take no instruction from her mother. From she born, me say, this little one, this little one going turn slut like her auntie. Sometime me wonder if is fi her own or fi me. Anyway, she gone from Wednesday morning. Leave out before the sun even rise and is not the first time neither. But this time she take me ears-ring and me Julia of Paris shoes. Me no business bout the shoes. Imagine, she take off to go school from four in the morning? I mean to say, who love school so much that they leave four hour early? Me can smoke in here? — Marlon James

Dallas traced her jaw and put the tip of his finger under her chin. I'm feeling possessive tonight, Lexie love, so here's your choice. I can untie you and we can have a little tease and cuddle ... or you can stand up and go into the bedroom. If you do that, I'm going to play with you until you think you can't take it anymore, and then I'm going to ride you so hard your legs won't work in the morning. Pick one. — Kit Rocha

I always sleep well, dearest, except for when your hot body smothers me completely!"
Darcy grinned. "Forgive me. Even sub- consciously I must be near you. I have no control over the matter. Tea and a scone?"
"Yes, please." She sat, tucking her feet under her. "No need to apologize, William. I simply elbow you hard and you roll away, temporarily at least. Come winter you can re- pay the treatment when I slip my frozen feet between your thighs. — Sharon Lathan

Don't ever say that after sex, do you understand? If you feel the urge to say it, go see the girl first thing in the morning, with her night breath and no makeup ... watch her on the toilet ... listen to her with her friends ... go meet her hairy mother and her shrill friends ... and if you still feel the need to say such a stupid thing, then God help you. — Jess Walter

I don't know when I fell in love with you, but I have fallen deeper and harder than anyone else in my life. You've become my world. I can't imagine a day without you by my side, an hour without your smile, a minute without hearing you laugh, and a second without you in my life. She opened her mouth, and I shook my head. I will spend my life protecting you and being worthy of being yours, I've never wanted anything as badly as I want you to be mine, walking through life together hand and hand, and waking up with you next to me each morning makes my life so much sweeter than I ever thought possible — Chelle Bliss

She slipped Glenn into her bed and then her face hung over Glenn's for one quiet moment, like a moon.
"Meera doe branagh, Glennora Morgan."
The strange words drifted down from her mother's lips, whispered as light as falling snow.
"What does it mean, Mommy?"
Fingertips grazed Glenn's cheek. "It means I love you. It means I'll always love you." She kissed Glenn softly on the forehead, then backed away. "No matter what."
She stepped into the bright hallway and closed the door.
When Glenn woke the next morning, her mother was gone — Jeff Hirsch

Do I sometimes hope I wake up in the morning and people are like, 'What's wrong with her? She looks emaciated.' Of course I would love that. I'm such a clothes whore, I would love the opportunity to be a hanger. But I think I'm more confident than I've ever felt in my life. — Melissa McCarthy

Maybe Leland would appear there by chance in the morning his chin freshly shaved against his stiff new collar and upon seeing his love in such duress would spring into action. Maybe he would even carry her out like a princess in a bedtime story. — Anna Godbersen

What various scenes, and O! what scenes of Woe,
Are witness'd by that red and struggling beam!
The fever'd patient, from his pallet low,
Through crowded hospitals beholds it stream;
The ruined maiden trembles at its gleam,
The debtor wakes to thought of gyve and jail,
The love-lorn wretch starts from tormenting dream;
The wakeful mother, by the glimmering pale,
Trims her sick infant's couch, and soothes his feeble wail. — Walter Scott

She was scared. I pictured the police knocking, and here I was with a girl I'd been fucking the morning my wife went missing. I'd sought her out that day
I had never gone to her apartment since that first night, but I went right there that morning, because I'd spent hours with my heart pounding behind my ears, trying to get myself to say the words to Amy:
I want a divorce. I am in love with someone else. We have to end. I can't pretend to love you, I can't do the anniversary thing
it would actually be more wring than cheating on you in the first place (I know: debatable.)
But while I was gathering the guts, Amy had preempted me with her speech about still loving me (lying bitch!), and I lost my nerve. I felt like the ultimate cheat and coward, and
the catch-22
I craved Andie to make me feel better,
But Andie was no longer the antidote to my nerves. Quite the opposite.
The girl was wrapping herself around me even now, oblivious as a weed. — Gillian Flynn

Morning breath here. 'A dirty mouth you say,' clean it up with Orbit." Maya chuckled. "Unless you have gum, I'm not letting you near me." She reached for a pillow and plopped it over her face.
"Ha-ha! Good one. No gum on me, but I'll settle for kissing your belly." Alex whisked her pajama top up and knelt down to kiss the roundest part of her tummy. — Melisa M. Hamling

To fill our lives with joy, the morning sun touches our hearts with the warmth of her kindness and the light of her love. Let us be like the sun touch someone's life with kindness every morning. — Debasish Mridha

She opened her eyes
and didn't wonder anymore.
He tells her everyday
how beautiful she is to him,
that she is his favorite,
his only his love.

That when the sun comes up
every morning he chooses her
and that he always will.

And today, for whatever reason
she rested in his reassurance.

She finally released
all the broken promises
in her past and believed
she could trust her heart
just this once more. — Leo Christopher

If I no longer love Diana,' he wrote, 'what shall I do?' What could he do, with his mainspring, his prime mover gone? He had known that he would love her for ever - to the last syllable of recorded time. He had not sworn it, any more than he had sworn that the sun would rise every morning: it was too certain, too evident: no one swears that he will continue to breathe nor that twice two is four. Indeed, in such a case an oath would imply the possibility of doubt. Yet now it seemed that perpetuity meant eight years, nine months and some odd days, while the last syllable of recorded time was Wednesday, the seventeenth of May. — Patrick O'Brian

When I wake up in the morning ... I don't think, wow, how can I make her love me more? How can I have my way with her? I, I, I? Not in my vocabulary. In fact, I'm a big fan of the letter u. I eat, I think of you. I drink, I drink to you. I cry, so you don't have to. I'd die, for you to live. And I'd survive with a broken heart only if it meant mending yours. - Nixon — Rachel Van Dyken

It wasn't love at first sight. They ran into each other one morning in a sunny clearing in the forest. A few moments of stunned silence. 'Glockenspiel,' Adam pronounced, thinking (but with terrible doubt) he'd found another animal in search of a name. When Eve approached him, proffering a handful of elderberries, he threw a stick at her and ran away. — Glen Duncan

And all I could think was that I would like to spend every morning for the rest of my life waking up beside her — Nicholas Sparks

Even Annie did not then know that it was the soul's hunger, the vague sense of a need which nothing but the God of human faces, the God of the morning and of the starful night, the God of love and self-forgetfulness, can satisfy, that sent her money-loving, poverty-stricken, pining, grumbling old aunt out staring towards the east. It is this formless idea of something at hand that keeps men and women striving to tear from the bosom of the world the secret of their own hopes. How little they know what they look for in reality is their God! This is that for which their heart and their flesh cry out. — George MacDonald

Marry me," I said. I sounded as astonished as she looked, but it felt right. It was right. When I spoke again, my voice went from surprised to insistent. "Be my wife, Val. Be the woman who wakes up in this bed with me every morning for the rest of our lives. Fight with me how Robin and Alan do.
Make love to me. Have my children." Her eyes popped so wide that I laughed and said, "You know, eventually, someday. — Kelly Oram

I am silver and exact. I have no preconceptions.
Whatever I see I swallow immediately
Just as it is, unmisted by love or dislike.
I am not cruel, only truthful-
The eye of the little god, four cornered.
Most of the time I meditate on the opposite wall.
It is pink, with speckles. I have looked at it so long
I think it is a part of my heart. But it flickers.
Faces and darkness separate us over and over.
Now I am a lake. A woman bends over me,
Searching my reaches for what she really is.
Then she turns to those liars, the candles or the moon.
I see her back, and reflect it faithfully.
She rewards me with tears and an agitation of hands.
I am important to her. She comes and goes.
Each morning it is her face that replaces the darkness.
In me she has drowned a young girl, and in me an old woman
Rises toward her day after day, like a terrible fish. — Sylvia Plath

But our love isn't easy because it's not meant to be. It requires
work and sacrifice and protection. And I wouldn't want it any other way, not right now, with the morning sun making the curtains glow and Her arms around my neck and the sounds of the street so far away. I'm in it for the long haul, I'm not going away. — Pete Wentz

I Have Vanished In the early morning, A lover asked her beloved, "Do you love me more than yourself?" "More than myself? For sure I have no self any more - I am you already. The 'I' has gone; the 'you' has come about. Even my identity is gone. The answer is taken for granted. 'You and I' has no meaning. The 'I' has vanished like a drop into an ocean of honey. — Jalaluddin Rumi

Lovecraft says he knows about tentacles
but that motherfucker never bedded a girl from
West Chester
and survived
She was a toothache
that one
and she tasted like crack
the best thing about her
was if I was ever hungry
I could always make a meal out of whatever
was making rest at the corners of her mouth
I can't remember her name
as is the case with most of them
then again I can't remember
how many donuts I ate this morning
or how many beers I'll drink tonight,
tomorrow — Dave Matthes

I'm still furious with you," she murmured, kissing a line down his chest.
"Oh, God, please don't be furious," he choked out quickly. "Every female I know is furious with me. Rosalyn throws tantrums, and Charlotte hasn't spoken to me or written since you left." He moved his hands to unbutton her gown. "The morning I thought you'd sailed out of my life I started drinking and didn't stop until I'd finished two bottles. For three days I had a blistering headache, and Nedda couldn't for the life of her stop banging things." He groaned. "And I can't even begin to tell you about your sisters. — Adele Ashworth

Your ship was spotted off the coast this morning, slipping silently through the fog ... coming around the cape she appeared in a shaft of sunlight ... and what a sight to see! Glimmering as much as the ocean herself. Massive and beautiful beyond belief! Laden with treasures, happy times, friends, love, and laughter. Quick, you must PREPARE for her docking ... you MUST make space in your life for her gifts ... otherwise, just as quickly, she'll quietly slip back out to sea. — Mike Dooley