Sweet And Touching Love Quotes & Sayings

Tears flood in you
your eyes burning
your heart scars with my name scratched deep
My face is gone
my heart betrayed by your lullabies
I'm a shadow of a girl inside
Hands are touching you
nothing takes the place of you
Heart wrench, weeps goodbye
Lullabies, beautiful and trusting
Barely breathing as they break into dust
Lonely corners me
Sweeps me off my feet
Shows me it was better for me
Fingertips holding close
your grip not as soft
Follows me to an empty bed
I can't stop the weakening of my soul
my body is dying
your tune is holding my mind
Let me go
see what I do
No control
No you
You whisper your sweet goodbye
If it is small it won't interrupt my sleep
But my heart you keep
You say it's for me
But who would be happy?
Alone left out in the cold — Mercy Cortez

When I was looking at the moon, I saw your eyes looking at me. I felt lights of love softly touching me, in the silence I heard your sweet music of joy, and then I got lost in your love. — Debasish Mridha

How very sweet. My dear," he said, speaking to Alex, "I imagine he's willing to give up the information because he fancies himself in love with you. Don't you see? Your life simply isn't worth the pleasure of avenging his father's death. It's touching, really." Alex — Sarah MacLean

During his sweet sleep, there was an angelic creature and in her eyes a look of joyous elation that filled Kevin's mind with anticipation of her possible existence in the real world. This freckle-faced vision with her wild mane of untamed blonde curls nightly left an unexplainable ache in his soul. In his dreams, she would appear to him as a mirage of hope. He could feel the love in her heart, for it seeped through her very essence into the air between them. She lay next to him in the grass as they quietly observed the sky above. Her hand seemed to be always just out of his reach. Kevin wanted to hold her hand so badly it was torturous. Her hand was just about touching his but not quite. Then her fingers brushed a path across his fingertips as if to say in the exquisite beauty of the moment, I will always be right here. — Kim Cormack

In a little while they were kissing. In a little while longer, they made their slow sweet love.
The iron bed sounded like a pine forest in an ice storm, like a switch track in a Memphis trainyard, like the sweet electrical thunder of habitual love and the tragical history of the constant heart. Auntee finished first, and then Uncle soon after, and their lips were touching lightly as they did.
The rain was still falling and the scritch owl was still asleep and the dragonflies were hidden like jewels somewhere in deep brown wet grasses, nobody knew where.
Uncle rolled away from his wife and held onto her hand, never let it go, old friend, old partner, passionate wife. — Lewis Nordan

Please, Noah, I don't want to do this wrong. Tell me how to make you feel good."
He shifted so that his body rested beside mine, his leg and arm still draped over me. I felt small under his warmth and strength.
His chocolate-brown eyes softened. "Being with you feels good. Touching you-" he tucked a curl behind my ear. "-feels good. I have never wanted anyone like I want you. There's nothing you can do wrong when just breathing makes everything right. — Katie McGarry

Stick your dick in'?" I asked, my brows probably touching. "Did you actually just say that?"
"Make love. I meant make love ... of course. I would never just stick my dick in you. I would make mad, passionate love to this sweet, sweet body of yours for days, no, weeks. It would be beautiful, pumpkin. There'd be little angels, and birdies, and you know ... all just hanging around, watching. Perverts. — Kylie Scott

Someday I want to go back to San Felipe de Jesus and find the Jesus in that place. Someday I want to trap myself in those washboard towns, Aconchi, Magdalena; I want to meet their saints someday. I would ask them if they have ever been in love.

I don't mean the syrup they lay on you in the media. I mean the meat of love, the hardness of it, the ice water that wakes you up into the heat of day. The Mexico of love, with rocks, pickup trucks, fat men and sugary children. Cock-sure, moonlit tequila, sweet lime, metallic bed for secret touching. Did they ever reach that side of life? Those mealy saints with their crosses on their backs, did they have enough stomach for the midnight lunch of love? — Laurie Perez

Helen Tse tells a gripping tale of struggle, laughter, love and food that marks Sweet Mandarin as a must read book. It is not only an immigrant account of life but also a universal touching story of survival that will move your soul as well. — Ken Hom

She allowed the sweet thrill of hearing Mack Logan's voice, even in the background, run through her before she dismissed it as another childhood fantasy. When they'd been best friends as children, she'd had an unbounded belief in mermaids and fairies, in fairytales and nature's mysteries. She'd believed she could fly with Peter Pan, breathe underwater, walk without touching the ground. And she believed Mack Logan loved her. Reality had a way of ruining a girl's dreams. — Patti Callahan Henry