She Who Loves Quotes & Sayings

I am someone who tweets about what I have for breakfast, what I have for lunch, what I have for dinner, and for 99.99999 percent of the world, it's useless. It's meaningless. But for my mother, she loves it. — Jack Dorsey

Is it better for a woman to marry a man who loves her than a man she loves. — Amy Bloom

All the backpedaling and backstepping that goes on with powerful women today, with Hillary Clinton saying she could have stayed home and baked cookies and blah blah blah, and then offending everybody so that she had to say that she does, in fact, *love* to make cookies, loves it almost as much as she likes to trade agricultural futures. I mean, what is that about? All this I'm really a lady, I'm really a nice girl crap- who needs it? It really is nothing more than surrender. — Elizabeth Wurtzel

That night at the Brooklyn party, I was playing the girl who was in style, the girl a man like Nick wants: the Cool Girl. Men always say that as the defining compliment, don't they? She's a cool girl. Being the Cool Girl means I am a hot, brilliant, funny woman who adores football, poker, dirty jokes, and burping, who plays video games, drinks cheap beer, loves threesomes and anal sex, and jams hot dogs and hamburgers into her mouth like she's hosting the world's biggest culinary gang bang while somehow maintaining a size 2, because Cool Girls are above all hot. — Gillian Flynn

Jodi Orgill Brown is inspired by people who live fulfilled lives in spite of their struggles. She loves spending time with her muses, — Jodi Orgill Brown

Because I deserve more," she said. "I deserve a man who loves me above all else. I deserve a family and happiness."
"Then go!" he growled. "Go off and find this mythical man and spread your legs for him if it'll give you what you want."
She took two strides toward him and slapped him, quick and hard, and then her eyes widened as she realized what she'd done. "Oh, I'm sorry."
He turned his face back to her slowly, almost lazily. "I'm not."
And then she was in his arms, his mouth on hers, wild and hot and dangerously close to out of control. He thrust his hand into her hair, holding her head immobile, and ravished her mouth, biting, tonguing, thrusting. — Elizabeth Hoyt

I don't know . . . there's just something about him. You radiate joy and sunshine, and he seems like more of a wet blanket who wants all the attention for himself. Everyone loves you here. I'm just looking out for you," she shares apologetically as she comfortingly cups Julie's hand. — Sheri Fink

You may adore Love You Forever, but I hear it as a story about an overbearing and smothering mother who infantilizes her son and can only tell him she loves him when he is fast asleep. I also contend that she drugs his cocoa. And that when the man's baby daughter wakes up sixteen years later and finds him fondling her in her room, she will be calling 911 and going into therapy. — Jane Yolen

Fashion being the art of those who must purchase notice at some cheaper rate than that of being beautiful, loves to do rash and extravagant things. She must be forever new, or she becomes insipid. — James Russell Lowell

Who loves not Knowledge? Who shall rail
Against her beauty? May she mix
With men and prosper! Who shall fix
Her pillars? Let her work prevail. — Alfred Lord Tennyson

No woman need fear the effect of absence upon the man who honestly loves her. The needle of the compass, regardless of intervening seas, points forever toward the north. Pitiful indeed is she who fails to be a magnet and blindly becomes a chain. — Myrtle Reed

In faith, I do not love thee with mine eyes,
For they in thee a thousand errors note;
But 'tis my heart that loves what they despise,
Who in despite of view is pleased to dote;
Nor are mine ears with thy tongue's tune delighted,
Nor tender feeling, to base touches prone,
Nor taste, nor smell, desire to be invited
To any sensual feast* with thee alone*:
But my five wits* nor my five senses can
Dissuade one foolish heart from serving thee,
Who leaves unsway'd the likeness of a man*,
Thy proud hearts slave and vassal wretch to be:
Only my plague thus far I count my gain,
That she that makes me sin awards me pain. — William Shakespeare

The only person in my head is me.
Tibe is not the same. The crown has changed him, as you feared it would.
The fire is in him, the fire that will burn all the world.
And it is in your son, in the prince who will never change his blood and will never sit a throne.
The only person in my head is me.
The only person who has not changed is you. You are still the little girl in a dusty room, forgotten, unwanted, out of place. You are the queen of everything, mother to a beautiful son, wife to a king who loves you, and still you cannot find it in yourself to smile.
Still you make nothing.
Still you are empty.
The only person in your head is you.
And she is no one of any importance.
She is nothing — Victoria Aveyard

Pilot season after pilot season, I read the same part: the wife who rolls her eyes at her somewhat immature husband that she still loves. Literally. — Beth Littleford

Of course anyone who truly loves books buys more of them than he or she can hope to read in one fleeting lifetime. A good book, resting unopened in its slot on a shelf, full of majestic potentiality, is the most comforting sort of intellectual wallpaper. — David Quammen

How can she stand up there so tall as she's telling us how her mother beat her and her father molested her when she was a little girl? How is it possible for her to look so proud? How is she not being consumed by shame? She should be disintegrating before our eyes. She should be struck by lightning, and God's big, angry, booming voice should be shaking the room with "How dare you? I told you never to tell." But that's not her God, she says. Her God is loving and kind and wants what's best for her. Her God loves peace and serenity and forgiveness. Her God doesn't make her keep secrets. I thought I knew God all my life, but maybe it was some other guy the whole time. I want this God. I want Val's God. I want a God who doesn't make me jump through hoops and hate myself to earn his love. — Amy Reed

Ruth does love Jesus, same way she loves Lincoln, Robin Hood, Martin Luther King, and Nat. Handsome men who fight for justice. — Samantha Hunt

A real groupie is someone who loves the music and wants to do it with the guys who make it and someone who goes after what they want, so a groupie is a feminist thing. A woman who goes after what she wants is a feminist. So I've never been anything but a feminist. I took the birth control pill on the Strip in front of everybody and that was my statement. I control my body, I can do whatever the heck I want. — Pamela Des Barres

I ask to become a faery because I love a faery queen, and because she deserves to have someone who loves her for who she is, not what she is. She needs me. There are people-good people-I love and I'm a liability to them because I'm a mortal. I'm fragile. I'm finine. I am in this world. People I care about, the woman I love, friends in all three of the courts ... This is where I belong. I just need you to give me what it takes to stay with them and be strong enough not to fail them. — Melissa Marr

He's not my lover," Isolfr said.
She raised an eyebrow, a long feathery, shaggy sweep. "You're his beloved. Both of them. I saw enough on the war-trail to know." Then she laughed, and took her hand off his and pushed his chest like a wolf-cub nudging playfully. "We don't get to pick who loves us, you know. And better to get him to write the song than be remembered forever as 'fair Isolfr, the cold.'"
He scrubbed a hand across his face, roughness of beard and scars and the smooth skin of the unmarked cheek. "Is that really what they call me?"
She smiled. "You frighten them, Viradechtisbrother. You went down under the mountain and came out again, twice, and the alfar call you friend. They'll have you among the heroes before you know it. And you can seem quite untouchable - 'ice-eyes, and ice-heart, and ice-hard, his will.'"
"Othinn help me. It is a song already. — Sarah Monette

Now, before I extend this metaphor, let me make a distinction between career and creativity. Creativity is connected to your passion, that light inside you that drives you. That joy that comes when you do something you love. That small voice that tells you, "I like this. Do this again. You are good at it. Keep going." That is the juicy stuff that lubricates our lives and helps us feel less alone in the world. Your creativity is not a bad boyfriend. It is a really warm older Hispanic lady who has a beautiful laugh and loves to hug. If you are even a little bit nice to her she will make you feel great and maybe cook you delicious food. — Amy Poehler

I shall spend every moment loving. One who loves does not notice her trials; or perhaps more accurately, she is able to love them. I shall do everything for Heaven, my true home. There I shall find my Mother in all the splendor of her glory. I shall delight with her in the joy of Jesus himself in perfect safety. — Bernadette Soubirous

Last spring, David had offered this crazy solution to our woes, only half in jest: ... "What if we admitted that we make each other nuts, we fight constantly and hardly ever have sex, but we can't live without each other, so we deal with it? And then we could spend our lives together- in misery, but happy to not be apart." Let it be a testimony to how desperately I love this guy that I have spent the last ten months giving that offer serious consideration. The other alternative in the backs of our minds, of course, was that one of us might change. He might become more open and affectionate, not withholding himself from anyone who loves him on the fear that she will eat his soul. Or I might learn how to ... stop trying to eat his soul. — Elizabeth Gilbert

Ah, no difficulties can ever daunt me,' replied d'Artagnan: 'my only fear is, of impossibilities.'
'Nothing is impossible,' said the lady, 'to the one who truly loves.'
'Nothing, madame?'
'Nothing' she replied. — Alexandre Dumas

There is a terrible pain," she said softly, "about being abandoned by someone who loves someone else more than you. A pain and an emptiness and a determination never again to give anyone that power. — Mary Balogh

The nature of living and loving is the act of reciprocity. As women, we are told that to be the guest is to receive. We are told that to be the host is to give. But what if it is the reverse? What if it is the guest who gives to the host and it is the host who receives from the guest each time she sets her table to welcome and feed those she loves? To be the guest and the host simultaneously is to imagine a mutual exchange of gifts predicated on respect and joy. If we could adopt this truth, perhaps we as women would be less likely to become martyrs. — Terry Tempest Williams

But that was long ago. She has long since lost interest in motives, in the details of other women's crimes. Even the hatchet makes its usual sense. A mother who loves her child with all her self is only so far from the hatchet anyway; one casual swing and it's done. Hatred, love, all muddled up in that space inside a whisper, when the words don't matter anymore, when the baby's half asleep and you can carry it all the way there if you want, on nothing but the tone of your voice. When the bough breaks, the cradle will fall. Sing it as softly as you like - the words clench their own teeth. The child still falls. — Emily Ruskovich

Do you remember when everyone thought Bush (sr) had a mistress too"" he asks in the course of a Clinton era conversation. "But she was rumored to be someone wealthy and Waspy, of course ... The problem here is the goddamn Democrats, who sleep down, you see. They love that white trash ... And white trash loves publicity,so the Democrats are the ones who get into all the trouble. As opposed to the Republicans. They sleep up ... Up, where all is Episcopalian and quiet as death itself, and no one ever has to hear a thing about it — Sue Miller

You're the only one who's ever been in here. You're the only one who's ever had the most important part of me. You're the one who turned a man who vowed to never love into one who loves completely." "How do you do that?" she whispered, not pulling her face away from mine. "Do what?" I stroked the backs of my fingers across her cheek. "Pull me back in the second I start to drift away?" I smiled. "I told you I was dropping anchor." "Don't ever let me go, Braeden." "Oh, baby." I vowed, "Never. — Cambria Hebert

Shame is the feeling you have when you agree with the woman who loves you that you are the man she thinks you are. — Carl Sandburg

It's as if I've never seen Jane before, never known her. With just an undervest on, she looks unbelievably thin. Arms no wider than the sticks of a bower. A collarbone protuding from the skin in all its detail. And with that one gesture, I learn the fundamental truth of her. When she takes off her sweater and, without thinking, hands it over to David to use as wool, I can see how Jane loves. And I know -with all my heart I know- that there is no protection in the world for someone who loves like that. — Helen Humphreys

My first crush use to think I hate her cuz never find time to chat with her , is only Hi and hellow that all , but not knowing that deep down in my soul and heart she is the first and last I want , but hey is fine now , she end up with some fox who loves her , — Sikhwetha Maanda

that light inside you that drives you. That joy that comes when you do something you love. That small voice that tells you, "I like this. Do this again. You are good at it. Keep going." That is the juicy stuff that lubricates our lives and helps us feel less alone in the world. Your creativity is not a bad boyfriend. It is a really warm older Hispanic lady who has a beautiful laugh and loves to hug. If you are even a little bit nice to her she will make you feel great and maybe cook you delicious food. Career — Amy Poehler

I don't know that I have a favorite meal. When I'm cooking I'm thinking about the person I'm feeding and I want to make them whatever they want. My husband's favorite meal is carbonara. I guess my favorite food is anything my mom makes. Because like anybody who loves their mother's cooking, if you try and make your mom's recipes, they never taste quite the same. And I don't know if that's because she's lying about what she's putting in there and just not telling me. Like when I turn my back, she's sneaking something in there. It just never seems to taste the same. — Rachael Ray

Still, I will protect Annie. She is the only person in the world who loves me. She is the only person in the world who would never use me. She is my anchor, the chain around my ankle, the thing that means it doesn't matter what James does or who he is - I will still be his because I will always be Annie's. — Kiersten White

Olly: jesus. is there a girl on this planet who doesn't love mr.darcy
Madeline: All girls love Mr. Darcy?
Olly: are you kidding? even my sister loves darcy and she doesn't love anybody
Madeline: She must love somebody. I'm sure she loves you
Olly: what's so great about darcy?
Madeline: That's not a serious question
Olly: he's a snob
Madeline: But he overcomes it and eventually realizes that character matters more than class! He's a man open to learning life's lessons! Also, he's completely gorgeous and noble and brooding and poetic. Did I mention gorgeous? Also, he loves Elizabeth beyond all reason. — Nicola Yoon

You may not realize this, brother, but Izzy is loyal to me. So don't make me unleash her on you."
"And now you're making fun of me," Izzy complained.
"No. It's a serious threat," Celyn admitted. "Used by many in the family. Especially Briec. He loves threatening those who annoy him - "
"Which is everyone," Brannie stated while grabbing the last loaf of bread and tearing it into three pieces.
" - with his beautiful eldest daughter who will rip the scales from your back and tear the still-beating heart from your chest before spitting on your corpse."
Izzy put her hand to her chest, her voice trembling as she fought tears. "That is the sweetest thing I've ever heard. — G.A. Aiken

It's hard not to be into a girl who tells you she loves your cock repeatedly as she comes. — Helena Hunting

Oh Harry," [Gwen] said. "I wish I were a different kind of person."
What kind of person, he wanted to know.
"Someone," she said slowly, "who truly loves life."
He was still looking at her, still cradling his glasses in his left hand. He said, "You're the kind of person who never stops trying. — Elizabeth Hay

What exactly is a True Woman? She is, quite simply, a woman who is being molded and shaped according to God's design. She's a woman who loves Jesus and whose life is grounded in, tethered to, and enabled by Christ and His gospel. As a result, she is serious about bringing her thoughts and actions in line with what the Bible says about who she is and how she ought to live. She is a woman who rejects the world's pattern for womanhood, and gladly wears God's designer label instead. — Mary A. Kassian

Brun, this is the man Ayla saw as whole. This is the man who set her standard. This is the man she loves and compares with her son. Look at me, my brother! Did I deserve to live? Does Ayla's son deserve to live less?" The — Jean M. Auel

Every dad who loves his daughter is not going to want her to go with the penniless slacker loser poet bum, when she could go out with someone who's successful. — John Leguizamo

I remember where I come from. I just see myself as someone who gets up and does what she loves every day - I'm not better or worse than anybody. — Kate DeAraugo

Pouring mercy into the darkness, Miao Shan becoming the bodhisattva Kuan Yin. She liberated hell, singing: Old stories, legends of creation, won't keep Hades from becoming paradise. Rumi said for the person who loves the truth "Their water is fire." He made spring out of winter. He learned from his mistakes. There were moments when numb from thinking we forget we pass through hell on our way to heaven. And if that heavenly glow does not distract us too much, dehypnotized by grace, we continue past heaven into the boundless enormity which dwarfs it. — Stephen Levine

Any man who loves a woman as she deserves to be loved is a magician. — Nina George

I don't have perfect teeth. I'm not stick thin. I want to be the person who feels great in her body and can say that she loves it and doesn't want to change anything. — Emma Watson

Sister. She is your mirror, shining back at you with a world of possibilities. She is your witness, who sees you at your worst and best, and loves you anyway. She is your partner in crime, your midnight companion, someone who knows when you are smiling, even in the dark. She is your teacher, your defense attorney, your personal press agent, even your shrink. Some days, she's the reason you wish you were an only child. — Barbara Alpert

Trehan &Lothaire
"My Bride poisoned me so that I would lose a match against the demon male she loves."
Lothaire hiked his shoulders. "So?"
"Did you not hear me? She dumped toxins into a goblet of blood, then handed it to me, urging me to drink"
"Who doesn't have petty spats during courtship? So fucking what?"
"So she doesn't fucking want me!"
Lothaire roared back, "She doesn't get a godsdamned say in the matter!"
"Trehan's brows drew together. "What are you advising "advising - that I abduct her? As you recently did the Forbearer king? And your Bride before him?"
Lothaire snapped his fingers. "Exactly — Kresley Cole

Every woman is a priestess if she loves life and can work magic on herself and those who are sacred to her. It's time for women to remind themselves of the powers they have inside. — Nina George

What we love is too much in the past, consists too much in the time that we have spent together for us to require the whole woman; we wish only to be sure that it is she, not to be mistaken as to her identity, a thing far more important than beauty to those who are in love; her cheeks may grow hollow, her body thin, even to those who were originally most proud, in the eyes of the world, of their domination over beauty, that little tip of a nose, that sign in which is summed up the permanent personality of a woman, that algebraical formula, that constant, is sufficient to prevent a man who is courted in the highest society and is in love with her from being free upon a single evening because he is spending his evenings in brushing and entangling, until it is time to go to bed, the hair of the woman whom he loves, or simply in staying by her side, so that he may be with her or she with him, or merely that she may not be with other people. — Marcel Proust

Those people who go to back to eternity before they taste the sweetness of real life are unable to understand the meaning of a woman's suffering. Especially when she devotes her soul to a man she loves by the will of God, and her body to another whom she caresses by the enforcement of earthly law. It — Kahlil Gibran

It's not about who loves her. It's about how you love her. You have to learn the difference between what she says, and what she means. Don't just make her laugh. Try and understand why she smiles. Plenty have told her she's beautiful, but can you make her feel that way too? There's a difference, see. Compliments might cage her, while empowerment sets her free. My God, what matters to her is not just who flatters her. There's a language to her love you'll need to learn. Speak it true, and I promise you, the best of her, is what you'll earn. — J. Raymond

You can have this whole entire life, with all your opinions, your loves, your fears. Eventually those parts of you disappear. And then the people who could remember those parts of you disappear, and before long, all that's left is your name in some ledger. This ... person
she had a favorite food. She had friends and people she disliked. We don't even know how she died ... I guess that's why I like preservation better than history. In preservation I feel like I can keep some of it from slipping away. — Katherine Howe

Some of the dairy people, who were also out of doors on the first Sunday evening after their engagement, heard her impulsive speeches, ecstasized to fragments, though they were too far off to hear the words discoursed; noted the spasmodic catch in her remarks, broken into syllables by the leapings of her heart, as she walked leaning on his arm; her contented pauses, the occassional laugh upon which her soul seemed to ride - the laugh of a woman in company with the man she loves and has won from all other women - unlike anything else in nature. They marked the buoyancy of her tread, like the skim of a bird which has not yet alighted. — Thomas Hardy

Mary is a woman who loves. How could it be otherwise? As a believer who in faith thinks with God's thoughts and wills with God's will, she cannot fail to be a woman who loves. We sense this in her quiet gestures, as recounted by the infancy narratives in the Gospel. We see it in the delicacy with which she recognizes the need of the spouses at Cana and makes it known to Jesus. We see it in the humility with which she recedes into the background during Jesus' public life, knowing that the Son must establish a new family and that the Mother's hour will come only with the Cross, which will be Jesus' true hour (cf. Jn 2:4; 13:1). When the disciples flee, Mary will remain beneath the Cross (cf. Jn 19:25-27); later, at the hour of Pentecost, it will be they who gather around her as they wait for the Holy Spirit (cf. Acts 1:14). — Pope Benedict XVI

When People Ask

How he's doing now, I have

no idea what to say except for,

"Better." I don't know if that's

true, or what goes on in a place

like Aspen Springs, not that any-

one knows he's there, thank God.

He has dropped off most people's

radar, although that's kind of odd.

Before he took this unbelievable

turn, Conner was top rung on our

social ladder. But with his crash

and burn no longer news of the day,

all but a gossipy few have quit

trying to fill in the blanks.

One exception is Kendra, who

for some idiotic reason still

loves him and keeps asking about

him, despite the horrible way he

dumped her. Kendra may be pretty,

but she's not especially bright. — Ellen Hopkins

My darling," she said at last, are you sure you don't mind being a mouse for the rest of your life?"
"I don't mind at all" I said.
It doesn't matter who you are or what you look like as long as somebody loves you. — Roald Dahl

I've been wanting to do a documentary on the true heart of the groupie ever since I was one. The groupie is just a girl who loves music and loves to be around the people who make it. She is the fan that takes it to the next level to experience the whole shebang, — Pamela Des Barres

Slavery is not an indefinable mass of flesh. It is a particular, specific enslaved woman, whose mind is active as your own, whose range of feeling is as vast as your own; who prefers the way the light falls in one particular spot in the woods, who enjoys fishing where the water eddies in a nearby stream, who loves her mother in her own complicated way, thinks her sister talks too loud, has a favorite cousin, a favorite season, who excels at dressmaking and knows, inside herself, that she is as intelligent and capable as anyone. — Ta-Nehisi Coates

I want a cigarette. I want a cigarette. I want to kill the woman my husband loves. This is all her fault. I got pregnant to secure the man that I had already married. A woman shouldn't have to do that. She should feel safe in her marriage. That's why you got married - to feel safe from all the men who were trying to siphon your soul. I'd yielded my soul to Caleb willingly. Offered it up like a sacrificial lamb. Now, I was not only going to have to compete with the memory of another woman, but a shriveled up baby. He was already staring into her eyes like he could see the Grand Canyon tucked away in her irises. I — Tarryn Fisher

She has many names and many visages. She has loves and desires. She dares to dream of a future for herself and her people, despite living under the shadow of the gun, the acrid odour of devastation clogging her nostrils. For the most part she is stoic, for the garrison is also her home, her workplace, her field and her playground. Sometimes, she cries out in anguish, but the sound is muted, for there are few who want to hear. Her suffering and courage would be the stuff of legend, if only legend consisted of ordinary women carrying out extraordinary acts, going about the daily business of survival, displaying super-human strength in countering a mighty military juggernaut. — Laxmi Murthy

We fall in love for a smile, a glance, a bare shoulder. That is enough; then, in the long hours of hope or sorrow, we fabricate a person, we compose a character. And when later on we see much of the beloved person, we can no longer, whatever the cruel reality that confronts us, strip off that good character, that nature of a woman who loves us, from the person who bestows that glance, bares that shoulder, than we can when she has grown old eliminate her youthful face from a person whom we have known since her girlhood. — Marcel Proust

A woman has but two loves in life: the one who broke her heart and the one she spends the rest of her life with.
- Carolyn Chase, former Broadcast Journalist and heroine Kate Theodore's mother — Liz Newman

I wonder why Miss Kosugi's lectures are always so stiff. Is she a fool? It makes me sad. She went on and on, explaining to us about patriotism, but wasn't that pretty obvious? I mean, everyone loves the place where they were born. I felt bored. Resting my chin on my desk, I gazed idly out the window. The clouds were beautiful, maybe because it was so windy. There were four roses blooming in a corner of the yard. One was yellow, two were white, and one was pink. I sat there agape, looking at the flowers, and thought to myself, There are really good things about human beings. I mean, it's humans who discovered the beauty of flowers, and humans who admire them. At — Osamu Dazai

She who loves roses must be patient and not cry out when she is pierced by thorns. — Olga Broumas

She turned her own Bible to John 13. The pastor began to preach about how Jesus loved Peter even though he knew ahead of time that Peter would deny him three times. "God loves us in the same way," Reverend Mitchell said. "Not because of what we do, but because of who he is. We can't earn God's favor by working for it. We don't earn it by our beauty or our possessions, for God is the one who gives those things anyway. His love is not dependent on anything. He loved us when we were unlovable, just as he did Peter. — Colleen Coble

His name feels like a secret, and now he's wearing it on his wrist. I want to know all about this girl who put it there. What she looks like. If she's got freckles, fair hair or dark, like his. If she's scrappy or etheral, funny or serious, scrape-kneed or ladylike. I know that she loves him, so I want to know everything else. But West doesn't want to share her with me. I shouldn't keep trying to scale these walls he puts up. I'm a terrible climber. — Robin York

Tristan stepped away from me. No, Robbie, listen. If there were any other way to turn off her programming, I would tell you. Lisa wants to know what she really feels, free of the programming, and I think we should help her. The pills will still keep her a bit compliant until we get her weaned off of them, but at least we can turn off her compulsion to please me sexually. Then she can really choose who she loves. — A. Violet End

She thought, Ours is one of the epic loves of our generation. Possibly of all time. Who cares if no one sees it, walking by? This story is s a love song. Who cares if history won't remember? — Lydia Netzer

Imagine a husband who really loves his wife. He is attentive to her needs. He listens to her heart. He is her best earthly gift. How would she react if he said to her, "Don't ask me for anything. I'm your best gift." When I've said this at our prayer seminars, everyone bursts into laughter. The husband's love for his wife is not disengaged from responding thoughtfully and generously to her requests. If we separate our mundane needs (doing) from God's best gift, his loving presence (being), then we are overspiritualizing prayer. — Paul E. Miller

I think also what's interesting is that Maggie [Gyllenhaal] knows how much the choices that I make reflect what's going on in my life. Admittedly, probably, as my sister, and as someone who loves me - like, she can't wait to see become a father. — Jake Gyllenhaal

What does a woman do as she waits for her man? She may wash her hair, put on makeup, choose the kind of outfit any woman would be eager to try on, spray on perfume, and look at herself one last time in the mirror. If she does these things, it's when she and the man she's waiting for are in love. It's different when a woman waits for a man she still loves but who has broken up with her, because the pure joy of it is missing. Loving someone is like carving words into the back of your hand. Even if the others can't see the words, they, like glowing letters, stand out in the eyes of the person who's left you. Right now, that's enough for me. — Kyung-ran Jo

The female loves to play man against man. And if she is in a position to do it, there is not one who will resist. — Charles Bukowski

The best teacher in the world is someone who loves what he or she does, and just loves it in front of you. — Fred Rogers

Shall I tell you the secret of true love? her father once asked her. A friend of mine liked to tell me that women love flowers. He had many flirtations, but he never found a wife. Do you know why? Because women may love flowers, but only one woman loves the scent of gardenias in late summer that remind her of her grandmother's porch. Only one woman loves apple blossoms in a blue cup. Only one woman loves wild geraniums. That's Mama! Inej had cried. Yes, Mama loves wild geraniums because no other flower has quite the same color, and she claims that when she snaps the stem and puts a sprig behind her ear, the whole world smells like summer. Many boys will bring you flowers. But someday you'll meet a boy who will learn your favorite flower, your favorite song, your favorite sweet. And even if he is too poor to give you any of them, it won't matter because he will have taken the time to know you as no one else does. Only that boy earns your heart. That — Leigh Bardugo

I'm not the woman who loves the one she's with. I'm also not one who gives up because things aren't perfect. You fight for what you love. You commit to making the relationship better. I don't believe in the perfect match. There's the one you love enough to stay with; there's the one who puts up with your shit. It's not romantic in the standard sense, but to me, it feels better. It feels real. — Ann Aguirre

The best that can happen to a girl, Claire, is to be a bit plain, like you. You think I'm being unkind, but I am telling you a truth. A plain girl has a longer time to herself, and when a man falls in love with her, he loves her for herself, for who she is. — Jane Smiley

No man who respects his mother or loves his sister, can speak disparagingly of any woman; however low she may seem to have sunk, she is still a woman. I want every man to remember this. Every woman is, or, at some time, has been a sister or daughter ... — Victoria Woodhull

someone who loves you when you forget to love yourself.' She looked — Mary Grand

He pulled her mirror out of his other pocket. "You left your mirror on my table." He extended it toward her.
"You can keep it," she said quietly. "We have lots of mirrors here."
"I'll keep it, then."
"Good. I'm glad."
He'd never rushed headlong into a battle, but he figured this time, it might be the best approach. "I spent a lot of time studying it. The back is real pretty with all the gold carving. Took me about an hour to gather up the courage to turn it over and look at the other side."
"And what did you see?"
" Aman who loves you more than life itself."
Closing her eyes, she dropped her chin to her chest.
"I wouldn't blame you if you hated me. I haven't held your feelings as precious as I should have."
"I don't hate you," she whispered hoarsely. "I tried to, but I can't."
-Houston and Amelia — Lorraine Heath

I rub my hand down my face, frustrated. This girl in front of me tests my patience like hell.
When she ran to me after her dad kicked her out, I thought she still had feelings for me. She needed a place to stay, and I needed her. I offered her a room, thinking if she was around me every day, she would remember she loves me. I was dead wrong. Somewhere along the way, we switched roles, I became the one who so desperately needed her and she became cold and closed off. She isn't my savior; she's my punishment. — Brittany Butler

You know what I wish for?" she said through a tight throat. "What I
really need? A man who loves me enough to stay. — Karina Bliss

The man who loves his country on its own account, and not merely for its trappings of interest or power, can never be divorced for it, can never refuse to come forward when he finds that she is engaged in dangers which he has the means of warding off. — Thomas Jefferson

What makes a good nanny? A good nanny is someone who really wants to do the job. Someone who loves children, who really values what she does and, of course, is valued by her employer. — Robert Klein

A millionaire is a person who is free, who does what she loves, who has unlimited materials, her choice of tools, abundance, inspiration, freedom and an inflated sense of entitlement to have, create and get more. — Sara Genn

You forget that when a woman finds a good man, a man who loves her and makes her happy, she doesn't fuck around. — Sylvain Reynard

When I was young, some women told me they loved me for my long eyelashes. I accepted. Later it was for my wit. Then for my power and money. Then for my talent. Then for my mind-deep. OK, I can handle all of it.
The only woman who scares me is the one who loves me for myself alone. I have plans for her. I have poisons and daggers and dark graves in caves to hide her head. She can't be allowed to live. Especially if she's sexually faithful and never lies and always puts me ahead of everything and everyone. — Mario Puzo

Those boys at the counter are too dreamy and young to do anything but drool as they watch Gillian. And, to her credit, Gillian is especially kind to them, even when Ephraim, the cook, suggests she kick them out. She understands that theirs might just be the last hearts she will break. When you're thirty-six and tired, when you've been living in places where the temperature rising to a hundred and ten and the air is so dry you have to use gallons of moisturizer, when you've been smacked around, late at night, by a man who loves bourbon, you start to realize that everything is limited, including your own appeal. You begin to look at young boys with tenderness, since they know so little and think they know so much. You watch teenage girls and feel shivers up and down your arms - those poor creatures don't know the first thing about time or agony or the price they're going to have to pay for just about anything. — Alice Hoffman

I walk through the black Indiana night, under a ceiling of stars, and think about the phrase "elegance and euphoria," and how it describes exactly what I feel with Violet. For once, I don't want to be anyone but Theodore Finch, the boy she sees. He understands what it is to be elegant and euphoric and a hundered different people most of them flawed and stupid, part asshole, part screwup, part freak, a boy who wants to be easy for the folks around him so that he doesn't worry them and, most of all, easy for himself. A boy who belongs - here in the world, here in his own skin. He is exactly who I want to be and what I want my epitaph to say: The Boy Violet Markey Loves. — Jennifer Niven

Mary seeks for those who approach her devoutly and with reverence, for such she loves, nourishes, and adopts as her children. — Bonaventure

No, my dear, I'm not in love with you, no more than you are with me, and if I were, you would be the last person I'd ever tell. God help the man who ever really loves you. You'd break his heart, my darling, cruel, destructive little cat who is so careless and confident she doesn't even trouble to sheathe her claws. — Margaret Mitchell

What you said before," she asked. "That Jace Herondale loves Clarissa Fairchild more than anyone you've ever known except someone - you never finished the sentence. Who was it?"
"I was going to say you and me and Will," he said. "But - that's rather a strange thing to say, isn't it?"
"Not strange at all." She cuddled in close against his side. "Exactly right. Ever and always, exactly right. — Cassandra Clare

Mom, you have to leave Dad," I said. She stopped doing her toe touches. "I can't believe you would say that," she said. "I can't believe that you, of all people, would turn on your father." I was Dad's last defender, she continued, the only one who pretended to believe all his excuses and tales, and to have faith in his plans for the future. "He loves you so much," Mom said. "How can you do this to him?" "I don't blame Dad," I said. And I didn't. But Dad seemed hell-bent on destroying himself, and I was afraid he was going to pull us all down with him. "We've got to get away. — Jeannette Walls

I understand Mother's need, whatever she might say on the phone, what she really wants is to hear, before she closes her eyes, the voice of someone who loves her. Love is at last, our only rejoinder to darkness. — Scott Russell Sanders

There should be someone in the world who loves you despite you," she whispers to her mother. — Jason Gurley

A man who wants to find out who he really is should try watching the woman he loves as she dances the tango with a maestro. — Clive James

Love your material. Nothing frightens the inner critic more than the writer who loves her work. The writer who is enamored of her material forgets all about censoring herself. She doesn't stop to wonder if her book is any good, or who will publish it, or what people will think. She writes in a trance, losing track of time, hearing only her characters in her head. — Allegra Goodman

She loves swimming," said Ellen, who I knew had been a competitive swimmer in college.
Ellen looked in the rearview mirror at Kara.
"Don't you Kara?" asked Ellen.
There was no response.
"I didn't start until I was three," said Ellen. "She's got a two year start on me. — Daniel Amory

Your mama-akra sent that to you, akri, to hurt the heathen-god. Now it's Dimonique time. The Simi can't be bothered we no Greek god messing with the one who pays the plastic bills. Can the Simi have that black metal card she loves so much? (Simi) — Sherrilyn Kenyon

When our mistress is alive, a great part of the thoughts which form what we call our loves come to us during the hours when she is not by our side. Thus we acquire the habit of having as the object of our meditation an absent person, and one who, even if she remains absent for a few hours only, during those hours is no more than a memory. And so death does not make any great difference. — Marcel Proust