Sweet Things To Say To A Girl 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

Is all pink entirely banned?'
'Not if it's like a sassy pink,' I say. 'But if it's a sweet, girl pink, yes. Maybe some shade of sarcastic pink if it isn't too abrasive. — Laura Nowlin

Westcliff sees an odd sort of logic in why you would finally be the one to win St. Vincent's heart. He says a girl like you would appeal to ... hmm, how did he put it? ... I can't remember the exact words, but it was something like ... you would appeal to St. Vincent's deepest, most secret fantasy."
Evie felt her cheeks flushing while a skirmish of pain and hope took place in the tired confines of her chest. She tried to respond sardonically. "I should think his fantasy is to consort with as many women as possible."
A grin crossed Lillian's lips. "Dear, that is not St. Vincent's fantasy, it's his reality. And you're probably the first sweet, decent girl he's ever had anything to do with."
"He spent quite a lot of time with you and Daisy in Hampshire," Evie countered.
That seemed to amuse Lillian further. "I'm not at all sweet, dear. And neither is my sister. Don't say you have been laboring under that misconception all this time? — Lisa Kleypas

A Lemon Gingertini," the dark-haired girl says. She curls her hands neatly under her chin and watches me mix the ginger syrup. "Oh, could you go light on the ice, too?"
"Sure thing," I say. Damn. I can't place her face.

"And make sure to add a slice of 'I'll kick your ass myself if you ever f*** over my best friend again'?" Her sweet voice changes to venom-laced. — Lori K. Garrett

Why, aren't you just about as sweet as syrup on a sundae? I sure would appreciate that, ma'am." He winked. "How'd you like ta stroll the deck of this fine ship with me and watch the sunset? I need a purty girl to put her arm around me and steady this bow-legged cowboy as he finds his sea legs." I raised an eyebrow and affected a southern accent. "Why, I think you're a pullin' my leg there, Texas. You've had your sea legs a lot longer than I have." He rubbed the stubble on his face. "You might be right at that. Well then, how about you taggin' along to keep me warm?" "It's about eighty degrees." "Shoot, you're a smart one, you are. Then how 'bout I jes say that a feller can get pretty lonesome by hisself in a strange country and he'd like to keep compn'y with you fer a while longer. — Colleen Houck

Talaith leaned forward, studied her youngest daughter. "You think you're evil?"
"Pure evil," Izzy clarified, which got her a rather vicious glare from Rhi. An expression Dagmar had never thought the young,
perpetually smiling or sobbing girl was capable of.
"Why would you think you're evil?"
"It's a feeling I have."
"No. Someone told her."
Rhi glowered at her sister. "I never said that."
"You didn't have to," Izzy shot back. "I know you."
"Well, who told her that?" Talaith demanded.
And, as one, they all turned and looked at Gwenvael.
He blinked, sat up straight. "I would never say such a thing to my dear sweet niece!"
"You said it to me," Talwyn snapped.
"That's because you're not my dear sweet niece. You're the rude little cow who threw a knife at my head."
"I wasn't aiming for you. I was aiming for Mum."
"She's right," Annwyl admitted. "I just ducked behind you." She shrugged. "Sorry. — G.A. Aiken

Laugh while you can, sweet girl," I growled against her lips. "I'm going to make you scream all those dirty words you're too scared to say. — Chelle Bliss

So that's who you want me to be? The innocent, sweet, shy girl you say I was?" She stormed over to the bed and snatched up the robe again. "Because I can't be her. I can't be anything but me. I love you, but I won't change who I am for anyone." She tied the robe around her waist and spread her arms wide. "This is me. You either love me for who I am, or you find someone else to love. — Larissa Ione

At another house two women learned very fast; I say women, but one was a girl about twelve or thirteen, already married, however. There was a little child about three years old. My sister asked, 'Who is the True God's Son?' The little thing replied, in a very sweet voice, 'Jesus.' — Lottie Moon

Would you?" Mom smiles and touches my hair, pushing it back from my forehead. I let her, but I grit my teeth. Her bare fingers brush my skin. I am thankful when none of my amulets crack. "Do you know what the Turkish say about coffee? It should be black as hell, strong as death, and sweet as love. Isn't that beautiful? My grandfather told me that when I was a little girl, and I never forgot it. Unfortunately, I still like my milk. — Holly Black

I saw this girl, she looks so sweet, I wonder why, I'm so scared to meet. I think about her everyday, I wake, I sleep and hope and pray, For that one day She will come to me And I will say, You are the one I wish to stay — Ryan Russell

Other people, so I have read, treasure memorable moments in their lives: the time one climbed the Parthenon at sunrise, the summer night one met a lonely girl in Central Park and achieved with her a sweet and natural relationship, as they say in books. I too once met a girl in Central Park, but it is not much to remember. What I remember is the time John Wayne killed three men with a carbine as he was falling to the dusty street in Stagecoach, and the time the kitten found Orson Welles in the doorway in The Third Man. — Walker Percy

The sweet roll smelled divine, and I thanked him, prancing my way back to Mal and feeling quite pleased with myself. He grabbed my arm and pulled me down a muddy walkway between two houses. "What do you think you're doing?"
"Nobody saw me. He just thought I was another peasant girl."
"We can't take risks like that."
"So you don't want a bite?"
He hesitated. "I didn't say that."
"I was going to give you a bite, but since you don't want one, I'll just have to eat the whole thing myself."
Mal grabbed for the roll, but I danced out of reach, dodging left and right, away from his hands. I could see his surprise, and I loved it. I wasn't the same clumsy girl he remembered.
"You are a brat," he growled and took another swipe.
"Ah, but I'm a brat with a sweet roll. — Leigh Bardugo

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

The sweet smell of success is no perfume for a woman. Say it's old-fashioned, say it's corny, but, as far as I can see, a girl who wears a 'business scent' is not attractive. A woman who flaunts her career as if it was a new hat is not beautiful. — Rod Taylor

Nice slippers," Davin grinned. They were green and furry. "Thanks." I shrugged and looked him over, half expecting to see a new injury. "So what's up?" He had one hand behind his back. — J.M. Richards

Jeb smiles - a genuine Jebediah Holt grin, complete with dimples. Such a beautiful distraction. "I love you, skater girl."
The nickname winds through me, comforting and sweet. I smooth my palm across his shoulder. "Say it again."
"I love you."
"No ... the other part," I plead.
He pulls my body to his, so our mouths come together in a warm, soft kiss. "Skater girl," he whispers against me, brushing hair from my face. — A.G. Howard

Young friends, whose string-and-tin-can phone extended from island to island, had to pay out more and more string, as if letting kites go higher and higher. They had more and more to tell each other, and less and less string. The boy asked the girl to say "I love you" into her can, giving her no further explanation. And she didn't ask for any, or say "That's silly," or "We're too young for love," or even suggest that she was saying "I love you" because he asked her to. Instead she said, "I love you." The words traveled through the long, long string. The boy covered his can with a lid, removed it from the string, and put her love for him on a shelf in his closet. Of course, he never could open the can, because then he would lose its contents. It was enough just to know it was there. — Jonathan Safran Foer