Sweet Nothing Love Quotes & Sayings

There's nothing in this world so sweet as love. And next to love the sweetest thing is hate. — Henry Wadsworth Longfellow

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

No, take more! What may be sworn by, both divine and human, Seal what I end withal! This double worship, Where [one] part does disdain with cause, the other Insult without all reason; where gentry, title, wisdom, Cannot conclude but by the yea and no Of general ignorance - it must omit Real necessities, and give way the while To unstable slightness. Purpose so barr'd, it follows Nothing is done to purpose. Therefore beseech you - You that will be less fearful than discreet; That love the fundamental part of state More than you doubt the change on't; that prefer A noble life before a long, and wish To jump a body with a dangerous physic That's sure of death without it - at once pluck out The multitudinous tongue; let them not lick The sweet which is their poison. Your dishonor Mangles true judgment, and bereaves the state Of that integrity which should become't; Not having the power to do the good it would, For th' ill which doth control't. — William Shakespeare

I should have found out what was troubling her. But I've been too much taken up with other things this week . . . things that really mattered nothing compared to a child's unhappiness. Think of what the poor darling has suffered."

She stooped repentantly, gloatingly over them. They were still hers . . . wholly hers, to mother and love and protect. They still came to her with every love and grief of their little hearts. For a few years longer they would be hers . . . and then? Anne shivered. Motherhood was very sweet . . . but very terrible.

"I wonder what life holds for them," she whispered. — L.M. Montgomery

Sweet, there is nothing left to say
But this, that love is never lost — Oscar Wilde

Whether that lady's gentle mind,
No longer with the form combined
Which scattered love, as stars do light,
Found sadness where it left delight,

I dare not guess; but in this life
Of error, ignorance, and strife,
Where nothing is, but all things seem,
And we the shadows of the dream,

It is a modest creed, and yet
Pleasant if one considers it,
To own that death itself must be,
Like all the rest, a mockery.

That garden sweet, that lady fair,
And all sweet shapes and odors there,
In truth have never passed away:
'Tis we, 'tis ours, are changed; not they.

For love, and beauty, and delight,
There is no death or change: their might
Exceeds our organs, which endure
No light, being themselves obscure.

(--Conclusion, Autumn - A Dirge) — Percy Bysshe Shelley

You took my heart and you held it in your mouth
And, with a word all my love came rushing out
And, every whisper, it's the worst, emptied out by a single word
There is a hollow in me now ...
And
Every whisper, every sigh
Eats away at this heart of mine
And there is a hollow in me now.
So I put my faith in something unknown
I'm living on such sweet nothing
But I'm trying to hope with nothing to hold
I'm living on such sweet nothing. — Florence Welch

Love is different and more difficult. It has nothing to do with sex.
This is what I tried to make my voices understand. QUietly does love
happen. You're not even thinking about romance, then she smiles and
you notice for the first time that she's not all that plain, her face is
really quite sweet. You watch for her smile and notice that it pushes her
cheeks up into two mango shapes, why should this shape be so
pleaSing, I don't know. Then one evening she puts kajal round her eyes
and brushes her hair, looks quite transformed, and suddenly Sonali
Bendre is not so desirable as this one who's been under your nose for
so long, who's all dolled up to go somewhere you're not going, can
never go. — Indra Sinha

I learned regret in the ruins of Tarbfhlaith. I regretted that ambition had ruled my heart instead of affection for my kin. And with the lesson of regret came the gratitude for having life still to move my lips and limbs, and to speak kind words to and embrace those I may not see again on this sweet-smelling earth. I learned that I cannot wait to love what is in my presence, for it or I may well be gone tomorrow. To some, such as Giannon, this lesson poisons the heart with bitterness. But such bitterness has no value and is, in fact, cowardly. For bitterness risks nothing. — Kate Horsley

There's nothing half so sweet in life as love's young dream. — Thomas Moore

To an old father, nothing is more sweet than a daughter. Boys are more spirited, but their ways are not so tender. — Euripides

But nothing else escapes all-ruinous time.
Earth's might decays, the might of men decays,
Honor grows cold, dishonor flourishes,
There is no constancy 'twixt friend and friend,
Or city and city; be it soon or late,
Sweet turns to bitter, hate once more to love. — Sophocles

Old boy," said Grimes, "you're in love."
"Nonsense!"
"Smitten?" said Grimes.
"No, no."
"The tender passion?"
"No."
"Cupid's jolly little darts?"
"No."
"Spring fancies, love's young dream?"
"Nonsense!"
"Not even a quickening of the pulse?"
"No."
"A sweet despair?"
"Certainly not."
"A trembling hope?"
"No."
"A frisson? a Je ne sais quoi?"
"Nothing of the sort."
"Liar!" said Grimes. — Evelyn Waugh

I am sure I would love to do it now, but back then, I was, like, 11 and it was 'ugh.' There's nothing sexual or sexy when you're that age. So I was kissing Brad Pitt. So what? He had chapped lips. He was lovely and kind and sweet to me, but it was just yuk. — Kirsten Dunst

Nothing but love can answer to love; no affection, no kindness, no care, can supply its place: it is its own sweet want. — Letitia Elizabeth Landon

There was nothing passionate, nothing lustful, nothing desperate about that kiss, just the sweet and delicate feeling of comfort while having someone there. Someone to hold while being held. Someone who wanted you. Someone who needed you. Someone who looked at you through eyes without judgment, and who knew your past but did not define you by it. Who understood that you'd been through something horrible but did not reat you like you were made of glass. — L. Stoddard Hancock

Life is short, love is sweet, regrets can either make you or break you, nothing lasts forever.
Nathan, Georgia on My Mind — Marie Force

Love is a mighty power,
a great and complete good.
Love alone lightens every burden, and makes rough places smooth.
It bears every hardship as though it were nothing, and renders
all bitterness sweet and acceptable. — Thomas A Kempis

If I am inconsiderate about the comfort of others, or their feelings, or even of their little weaknesses; if I am careless about their little hurts and miss opportunities to smooth their way; if I make the sweet running of household wheels more difficult to accomplish, then I know nothing of Calvary love. — Amy Carmichael

And if I fight, then for what?"
"For nothing easy or sweet, and I told you that last year and the year before that. For your own challenge, for your own mistakes and the punishment for them, for your own definition of love and of sanity - a good strong self with which to begin to live. — Joanne Greenberg

Why is love beyond all measure of other human possibilities so rich and such a sweet burden for the one who has been struck by it? Because we change ourselves into that which we love, and yet remain ourselves. Then we would like to thank the beloved, but find nothing that would do it adequately. We can only be thankful to ourselves. Love transforms gratitude into faithfulness to ourselves and into an unconditional faith in the Other. Thus love steadily expands its most intimate secret. Closeness here is existence in the greatest distance from the other- the distance that allows nothing to dissolve - but rather presents the "thou" in the transparent, but "incomprehensible" revelation of the "just there". That the presence of the other breaks into our own life - this is what no feeling can fully encompass. Human fate gives itself to human fate, and it is the task of pure love to keep this self-surrender as vital as on the first day. — Martin Heidegger

Beautiful!

Honesty is beautiful
Kindness is beautiful
Intelligence is beautiful
Talent is beautiful

Beautiful is a romance with such abundance
Beautiful are the flowers that roam the earth
Beautiful is awaking to the sound of singing birds
Beautiful is a disguise
Playing hide and seek inside and outside
Beautiful is as naked as the rising sun
Beautiful is delightful and truthful
Beautiful is the golden daylight that shines
And the taste of sweet colored red wine
Beautiful was never ever created by mistake
Beautiful is the ingredient we bake life's cake
When all or nothing is at stake

I am beautiful
You are beautiful
We are beautiful

Beautiful is great
Beautiful is sweet
Beautiful is love
Beautiful is power

Come to me Mr. & Mrs. Beautiful
Let me into your little secret
Of why you are so obedient and dutiful — Sylvia Chidi

"Crazy," he muttered softly, "how much I need you."
Crazy, how something like that can feel like a kick in the chest, can hurt that much, can suck all the air right out of your body for a moment. And at the same time, settle over you, around you, so soft and warm and sweet, that you think nothing can ever be as good as this one moment.
Crazy.
That I can love you.
This much. — Susan Bischoff

I ask: will she ever someday know love's farewell? Will she ever someday know the swoonings of love? Will she take in her own way the sweet journey? I know nothing. What can you do with the truth that everyone's a little sad and a little alone. — Clarice Lispector

That I did always love, I bring thee proof: That till I loved I did not love enough. That I shall love alway, I offer thee That love is life, And life hath immortality. This, dost thou doubt, sweet? Then have I Nothing to show But Calvary. — Emily Dickinson

I remember every good thing about you. Every sweet and perfect thing. And nothing else." He touched her chin, tipped it up to look into her wet brown eyes. Even smudged, they were gorgeous. The dawning light in them filled his heart, and healed it. "Nothing else. — V.S. Carnes

Sweet Goddess! she thought suddenly. I have never even spoken to him. I know nothing about the man, nothing at all.
What if he tries to get me into some sordid little room and force himself on me, like an animal? How will I fight him off? All alone, not able to cry for help?
No, it will not be like that, it could not be. I would have known if he were that kind of man, and felt repelled. He could not sing and write such beautiful verses, and look so fine if he were not the man I want him to be. Yes, when we meet, it will be as it is in his songs. He will obey, do exactly what I tell him and no more. Oh, I have hoped so long for this. Goddess of Love, let it be beautiful. — Robert Shea

I think our last kiss was meant to be quick and chaste, but after the first touch of his lips fire leaped up and roared through my belly. My fingers yanked him close, digging into his back, and his arms crushed me to him as if wanting to meld us together. I knotted my fingers in his hair and bit down on his bottom lip, making him groan. His lips parted, and my tongue swept in to dance with his. There was nothing sweet or gentle in our last kiss; it was filled with sorrow and desperation, of the bitter knowledge that we could've had something perfect, but it just wasn't meant to be. — Julie Kagawa

T is sweet to win, no matter how, one's laurels,
By blood or ink; 't is sweet to put an end
To strife; 't is sometimes sweet to have our quarrels,
Particularly with a tiresome friend:
Sweet is old wine in bottles, ale in barrels;
Dear is the helpless creature we defend
Against the world; and dear the schoolboy spot
We ne'er forget, though there we are forgot.
But sweeter still than this, than these, than all,
Is first and passionate Love - it stands alone,
Like Adam's recollection of his fall;
The Tree of Knowledge has been plucked - all 's known
And Life yields nothing further to recall
Worthy of this ambrosial sin, so shown,
No doubt in fable, as the unforgiven
Fire which Prometheus filched for us from Heaven. — George Gordon Byron

I'm not big on dark chocolate, but I do have a sweet tooth, so it gets me in trouble. I love warm chocolate chip cookies with ice cream. Then there's this chocolate pie my mom makes for me every year for my birthday. She's been making it since I was younger, and there's nothing like it. It's really so, so good! — Phillip Phillips

Shanna, sweet Shanna. How can I tell you what you mean to me? When I saw you at the ball it was as if my heart started beating again. You lit up the room, bright in an ocean of black and white. And I thought- my life has been nothing but a dark, endless night. Then you came out like a rainbow and filled my black soul with color. — Kerrelyn Sparks

While love takes on itself impossible tasks, yet it finds that love lightens all loads. It is the same burden that wings are to a bird, that sails are to a ship. Nothing is hard if done for love's sweet sake. The yoke of love is easy; the yoke of duty is hard. There is all the difference in the world between being drawn by love and being driven by duty. The task may be the same, but love makes everything light, and duty makes everything drudgery. — E. Stanley Jones

We are the mirror, as well as the face in it.
We are tasting the taste of eternity this minute.
We are pain and what cures pain.
We are the sweet cold water and the jar that pours.
Soul of the world, no life, nor world remain,
no beautiful women and men longing.
Only this ancient love circling the holy black stone of nothing.
Where the lover is the loved, the horizon and everything within it. — Rumi

Nothing is bigger than art. — Kenya Wright

This thing we have, it hurts, he continued. But the pain is almost sweet because it means YOU happened. We happened. And I can't regret that, no matter how little or how long I get to tag along with you and pretend that I don't hate having people recognize me or take pictures or having people whisper about my record
" Your record?"
" My criminal record, Bonnie, Nothing platinum there. I'm an ex-con, and starting over and building a new life where I can put it behind me, I'm building a new life where it will never be behind me, and for you, its worth it. It's easy math. — Amy Harmon

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

Go to other countries. Not a typical backpacking tour. Planned tour
means you will hang with Americans on bikes and flirt with drunk
Germans and someone will steal your Levi's in the hostel and a guy
from Poland will sock you in the face while bad techno plays
everywhere and you will learn nothing except that your face hurts and
not everyone showers. Get into other cultures and talk politics and
love. Meeting other people is the only way to know if you believe what
you believe cause it's been handed to you, or if it really rings true
in your heart.
Getting lost should be seen as a sweet chance to be found.
Remember, you belong everywhere. — Derrick Brown

Love is the devil in disguise. He sweeps in and seduces you when you're at your weakest, when you've lost all hope. But he gives you a sense of want and desire. He whispers sweet words, wrapping you into a world of existence, because before Love, you didn't exist. Then, when you give in fully, when you're lost in Love and when he has you exactly where he wants you, he takes over completely, possessing your mind, body, and soul.
That's when he snatches your heart, rips it to shreds, and leaves you with nothing left to give. — E.L. Montes

Stop worrying about whether you're fat. You're not fat. Or rather, you're sometimes a little bit fat, but who gives a shit? There is nothing more boring and fruitless than a woman lamenting the fact that her stomach is round. Feed yourself. Literally. The sort of people worthy of your love will love you more for this, sweet pea. — Cheryl Strayed

As a girl she had imagined the Milky Way was the curtain of heaven, a notion she had been sorry to abandon as she had grown up. But she would not abandon a belief in heaven itself, wherever that may be, because she felt that if she gave that up then there would be very little left. Heaven may not turn out to be the place of her imagining, she conceded
the place envisaged in the old Botswana stories, a place inhabited by gentle white cattle, with sweet breath
but it would surely be something not too unlike that, at least in the way it felt; a place where late people would be give all that they had lacked on this earth
a place of love for those who had not been loved, a place where those who had had nothing would find they had everything the human heart could desire. — Alexander McCall Smith

Even the dry and dusty arid desert air could not get her sweet perfume out of his nostrils. That one night was all it took. She stole his heart; he could do nothing about it, but accept his fate. — Virginia Alison

There's nothing sweet about me, love," he said. — Michelle M. Pillow

Love is like candy floss. you crave it and it looks very promising, but if you try to satisfy your hunger with it, there is nothing. Only a sweet aftertaste - if you're lucky. — Lynn Austin

Love is like magic and it always will be. For love still remains life's sweet mystery! Love works in ways that are wondrous and strange and there's nothing in life that love cannot change! Love can transform the most commonplace into beauty and splendor and sweetness and grace. Love is unselfish, understanding and kind, for it sees with its heart and not with its mind! Love is the answer that everyone seeks ... Love is the language, that every heart speaks. Love can't be bought, it is priceless and free, love, like pure magic, is life's sweet mystery! — Helen Steiner Rice

Love is a great thing, a good above all others, which alone maketh every heavy burden light, and equaliseth every inequality. For it beareth the burden and maketh it no burden, it maketh every bitter thing to be sweet and of good taste. The surpassing love of Jesus impelleth to great works, and exciteth to the continual desiring of greater perfection. Love willeth to be raised up, and not to be held down by any mean thing. Love willeth to be free and aloof from all worldly affection, lest its inward power of vision be hindered, lest it be entangled by any worldly prosperity or overcome by adversity. Nothing is sweeter than love, nothing stronger, nothing loftier, nothing broader, nothing pleasanter, nothing fuller or better in heaven nor on earth, for love was born of God and cannot rest save in God above all created things. — Thomas A Kempis

There is nothing sweeter than finding the right person to love and cherish and to share your hopes and dreams with. — Mary Lydon Simonsen

The five cells are silky-white within, and are filled with a mass of firm, cream-coloured pulp, containing about three seeds each. This pulp is the eatable part, and its consistence and flavour are indescribable. A rich custard highly flavoured with almonds gives the best general idea of it, but there are occasional wafts of flavour that call to mind cream-cheese, onion-sauce, sherry-wine, and other incongruous dishes. Then there is a rich glutinous smoothness in the pulp which nothing else possesses, but which adds to its delicacy. It is neither acid nor sweet nor juicy; yet it wants neither of these qualities, for it is in itself perfect. It produces no nausea or other bad effect, and the more you eat of it the less you feel inclined to stop. In fact, to eat Durians is a new sensation worth a voyage to the East to experience. — Alfred Russel Wallace

Love? Love? Love is not safe, my lady silk, love is dangerous. It is deceitfully sweet like wine from a fresh palm tree at dawn. Love is fine for singing about and love songs are good to listen to, sometimes even to dance to. But when we need to count on human strength, and when we have to count pennies for food for our stomachs and clothes for our backs, love is nothing. Ah my lady, the last man any woman should think of marrying is the man she loves. — Ama Ata Aidoo

Sweet words. Gentle deceptive balm. Help, love, to belong together, to come back again - words, sweet words. Nothing but words. How many words existed for this simple, wild, cruel attraction of two bodies! What a rainbow of imagination, lies, sentiment, and self-deception enclosed it! — Erich Maria Remarque

If she'd thought the oncoming storm outside was crazy, it was nothing compared to what happened between her and Finn every time they so much as looked at each other. — Jill Shalvis

When the sun of consciousness first shone upon me, behold a miracle! The stock of my young life which had perished, steeped in the waters of knowledge grew again, budded again, was sweet again with the blossoms of childhood. Down in the depths of my being, I cried, 'it is good to be alive!' I held out two trembling hands to life, and in vain silence would impose dumbness upon me henceforth! The world to which I awoke was still mysterious; but there was hope and love and God in it, and nothing else mattered. Is it not possible that our entrance into heaven may be like this experience of mine? — Helen Keller

I thought it could be something, I mean, eventually." Harrison finally looks at us. "My life I thought-but I mean ... it's nothing."
"Don't cry" Grace says. "You have a lot of time."
"No, I don't."
"Yeah, you do."
"No.-"
"Yeah! Yeah, you do. It's okay. Look-"
She does something that is so amazingly selfless and also gross. She tilts Harrison's face up and gives him a sweet kiss on the lips and it lasts long enough for him to taste her back, to move his mouth against hers.
Harrison stares at her dumbfounded but he's stopped crying
She is so nice. — Courtney Summers

A typical submissive lives to serve. She likely grew up believing that service to the people you care for is how you express your love for them. It had little or nothing to do with relationship dynamics, sex, kink, or anything anywhere near that complicated. It is a simple, sweet principle of love: If you care for someone, you do nice things for that person. It makes you feel better, it makes him feel better, and it makes the world - or at least your little corner of it - a better place for a time. — Michael Makai

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 girls I dream of are the gentle ones, wistful by high windows or singing sweet old songs at a piano, long hair drifting, tender as apple blossom. But a girl who goes into battle beside you and keeps your back is a different thing, a thing to make you shiver. Think of the first time you slept with someone, or the first time you fell in love: that blinding explosion that left you cracking to the fingertips with electricity, initiated and transformed. I tell you that was nothing, nothing at all, beside the power of putting your lives, simply and daily, into each other's hands. — Tana French

I spit
honey out of my mouth:
nothing is second-best
after the sweet of Eros. — Hilda Doolittle

Now they both smiled. The sweet, light fragrance of a first youthful, half-unspoken love, with all its intoxicating tenderness, had awoken in them like a dream on which you reflect ironically when you wake, although you really wish for nothing more than to dream it again, to live in the dream. The beautiful dream of young love that ventures only on half-measures, that desires and dares not ask, promises and does not give. They — Stefan Zweig

I want to marry you, Malda - because I love you - because you are young and strong and beautiful - because you are wild and sweet and - fragrant, and - elusive, like the wild flowers you love. Because you are so truly an artist in your special way, seeing beauty and giving it to others. I love you because of all of this, because you are rational and highminded and capable of friendship - and in spite of your cooking!"
"But - how do you want to live?"
"As we did here - at first," he said. "There was peace, exquisite silence. There was beauty - nothing but beauty. There were the clean wood odors and flowers and fragrances and sweet wild wind. And there was you - your fair self, always delicately dressed, with white firm fingers sure of touch in delicate true work. I loved you then. — Charlotte Perkins Gilman

Nothing they say or do can ever change the man you are," Trinity continued. "A man I love with all my heart, and Nan does too. They don't matter; their words mean nothing."

I stared back at her as I allowed what she said to really sink in. She was right. I knew she was right. I just got so lost in the anger I had for them that I let their words eat away at me.
"Have I told you lately how amazing you are?"
I asked as she cocked her head in the cute quirky way she did when I gave her a compliment.
"Because you are, and the way you calm me, the way you give me a sense of clarity even in my weakest of times, just confirms how perfect you are."

"I'm not perfect, Chase," she whispered in return and it was my turn to take her face in my hands.

"You're perfect for me," I whispered as I tilted my head toward hers and pressed my lips against hers. "I love you, sweet girl, so damn much. — C.A. Harms

Each one, then, should love his life, even though it be not very attractive, for it is the only life. It is a boon that will never return and that each person should tend and enjoy with care; it is one's capital, large or small, and can not be treated as an investment like those whose dividends are payable through eternity. Life is an annuity; nothing is more certain than that. So that all efforts are to be respected that tend to ameliorate the tenure of this perishable possession which, at the end of every day, has already lost a little of its value. Eternity, the bait by which simple folk are still lured, is not situated beyond life, but in life itself, and is divided among all men, all creatures. Each of us holds but a small portion of it, but that share is so precious that it suffices to enrich the poorest. Let us then take the bitter and the sweet in confidence, and when the fall of the days seems to whirl about us, let us remember that dusk is also dawn. — Remy De Gourmont

Nothing is enough that doesn't come with peace of mind. Nothing is enough that doesn't come with love. — Tracy Deebs

If I do not forget about such a trifle as personal success, so that it never crosses my mind, or if it does, is never given a moment's room there; if the cup of spiritual flattery tastes sweet to me, then I know nothing of Calvary love. Be unanimous among yourselves, not high minded, but accommodating the humble. Do not be wise in your own opinion (Romans 12:16). Let my so-called accomplishments slip from my mind that I may not be tempted to think higher of myself than I ought. Help me learn to forget about myself and my accomplishments. — Amy Carmichael

Where are those tears in your eyes, my child?
How horrid of them to be always scolding you for nothing!
You have stained your fingers and face with ink while writing-
is that why they call you dirty?
O, fie! Would they dare to call the full moon dirty because
it has smudged its face with ink?
For every little trifle they blame you, my child. They are
ready to find fault for nothing.
You tore your clothes while playing-is that why they call you
untidy?
O, fie! What would they call an autumn morning that smiles
through its ragged clouds?
Take no heed of what they say to you, my child.
They make a long list of your misdeeds.
Everybody knows how you love sweet things-is that why they
call you greedy?
O, fie! What then would they call us who love you? — Rabindranath Tagore

Starling tries to seduce Fitz.
"Be with me" she said simply "Just for here. Just for now. With gentleness and friendship. To take ... the other away. Give me that much of yourself."
I wanted her. I wanted her with a desperation that had nothing to do with love, and even, I believe, little to do with lust. She was warm and alive and it would have been sweet and simple human comfort. If I could have been with her and arisen from it unchanged in how I thought of myself and what I felt for Molly, I would have done so. But what I felt for Molly was not something that was only for when we were together. I had given Molly that claim to me; I could not resend it just because we were apart for while. — Robin Hobb

The tears grappled with her face.
Rudy, please, wake up, Goddamn it, wale up, I love you. Come on, Rudy, come on, Jesse Owens, don't you know I love you, wake up, wake up, wake up..
But nothing cared ...
She leaned down and looked at his lifeless face and Liesel kissed her best friend, Rudy Steiner, soft and true on his lips. He tasted dusty and sweet. He tasted like regret in the shadows of trees and in the glow of the anarchist's suit collection. She kissed him long and soft, and when she pulled hersel away, she touched his mouth with her fingers. Her hands were tremblin, her lips were fleshy, and she leaned in once more, this time losing control and misjudging it. Their teeth collided on the demolised world of Himmel Street. — Markus Zusak

Love is an excellent thing and a very great blessing, indeed. It makes every difficulty easy. It bears a burden without being weighted, and renders sweet all that is bitter. Love knows no limits, feels no burden, thinks nothing of troubles, attempts more than it is able, because it believes that it may and can do all things; for this reason it is able to do all, performing much where he who does not love fails and falls. Love is watchful. Sleeping, it does not slumber. Like a living flame, a burning torch, it tends upward and passes unharmed through every obstacle. Whatever faults may be committed, big or small, whatever clouds may pile up on the horizon, dark and threatening, love will overcome all. — Maria Augusta Von Trapp

That was how it was when you loved someone: their well-being was all you thought about, if they were fine, you felt fine. That was the amazing thing about love too: when you held someone in your heart, any hardship or wrong you experienced felt like nothing but a sweet torment. Si — Tang Qi

We can't stop staring at each other. Saying nothing, nothing to say. I trace the curve of his jaw and throat, the sweet spot below his ear, with only my eyes, because he's too faraway to touch. We stare and we stare and I can't stop myself from smiling, because he's smiling, too. We don't have to speak to have this conversation; in fact, the only way to have it is by not using words. — Megan Hart

You've had ample opportunity to send me up the river ... you could've easily gotten me locked up long ago just by opening your mouth. I didn't need to marry you to gain your silence. You've given it to me from the start. If you didn't turn on me then, when you had plenty of reason to, I trust that you won't do it now, ring or no ring. I married you, Karissa, because I love you. Nothing more, nothing less."
As many times as he's said those words ... I love you ... it still makes my stomach flutter to hear them come from him. The butterflies soar. He's not an outwardly emotional person, not at all, so when he says it, I know he means it.
Wrapping my arms around his neck, I reach up on my tiptoes and kiss him. His lips are soft, sweet. His tongue tastes like peppermint. "I love you, too, you know."
"I know. — J.M. Darhower

My time with Eli was a sweet sort of agony. It was like the feeling you would get watching a bubble as a child. A thing you can't help but find magical and beautiful yet it must remain elusive. You can't try to get too close. You can't try to touch it lest it pop and be gone forever, but there is nothing you want more than to try. So frustrated you will yourself to hold back and savor it for what it is, a moment of fleeting perfection. — Jennifer Mardoll

I used to believe that love and happiness were synonymous. I was a fool. Love intensifies all emotions. Nothing is so painful o so sweet, so thrilling or so desperate ... Pleasure is, after all, a luxury. It's love thats essential. You are never so alive as when you love, never so alert, intuitive, attentive, never so smart or so compassionate. — John Dufresne

You're not untrustworthy, you're not cold and you're not a bitch. You have ... issues. I get that. We all have issues. But once I realized you were lying to me, I began to understand why. You think you never gave yourself away with me. You think you have time to backpedal and pretend nothing happened between us, because that way if anything ever happens to me, you can tell yourself you don't care, and you don't feel the pain. — Samantha Young

He regretted nothing. Not the way she'd felt in his arms and not the way he'd felt in hers. — Jill Shalvis