Sweet Your Beautiful Quotes & Sayings

Have you ever felt as if your dreams were more memorable, more alive, than what you knew to be reality? Have your dreams ever seemed so tangible as to make you question upon waking if you'd truly only dreamt them? Have they at times been addictive enough to consume your waking hours; blurring actuality and pretend together until your wishes and passions stare back at you with open eyes?
If only dreams could be reality, that beautiful garden of sweet-smelling roses we all long for. But reality for me is no such bed of roses. It is nothing but a field of unwanted dandelions.
- From the thoughts of Annabelle Fancher — Richelle E. Goodrich

Life is the bad
with all the good.
The deadly sharks
with the beautiful sea stars.
The gigantic waves
with the sand castles.
The licorice
with the lemon and lime.
The loud lyrics
with the rhythm of the music.
The liver disease
with the love of a father and son.
It's life.
Sweet, beautiful,
wind on your face,
air in your lungs,
kisses on your lips.
life. — Lisa Schroeder

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

In the spiritual life the easiest way to conquer ego is to offer gratitude to God for five minutes daily. If you cannot offer gratitude for five minutes, then utter it for one minute. Offer your gratitude to God. Then you will feel that inside you a sweet, fragrant and beautiful flower is growing. That is the flower of humility. — Sri Chinmoy

Kishan spoke intently, "Kelsey is all that a man could ask for. She's perfect for you. She loves poetry and sits endlessly content while listening to you sing and play your guitar. She waited months for you to come after her, and she has risked her life repeatedly to save your mangy white hide. She's sweet and loving and warm and beautiful and would make you immeasurably happy."
There was a pause. Then I heard Ren say incredulously, "You love her."
Kishan didn't answer right away, but then said softly, almost so I couldn't hear it, "No man in his right mind wouldn't, which proves you aren't in your right mind. — Colleen Houck

Bittersweet is the idea that in all things there is both something broken and something beautiful, that there is a sliver of lightness on even the darkest of nights, a shadow of hope in every heartbreak, and that rejoicing is no less rich when it contains a splinter of sadness. Bittersweet is the practice of believing that we really do need both the bitter and the sweet, and that a life of nothing but sweetness rots both your teeth and your soul. Bitter is what makes us strong, what forces us to push through, what helps us earn the lines on our faces and the calluses on our hands. — Shauna Niequist

You're everything I've ever wanted, Pigeon."
"Just remember that when I take all of your money in the next poker game," I said, pulling off my shirt. — Jamie McGuire

Do you know what a pearl is and what an opal is? My soul when you came sauntering to me first through those sweet summer evenings was beautiful but with the pale passionless beauty of a pearl. Your love has passed through me and now I feel my mind something like an opal, that is, full of strange uncertain hues and colours, of warm lights and quick shadows and of broken music. — James Joyce

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

Just being your friend is going to be hard, but I'll try. It's just that . . . I like you. You're witty and sweet, and you happen to be the most infinitely beautiful woman I've ever met. — Renee Carlino

I want to undress you, touch you, kiss you, taste you. And then I want you to taste yourself on my mouth." He kissed her again, hot and strong and long. One hand crept to her clothed breast, kneading it. "I want you hard and hot and deep and fast. And then I want you slow and sweet. I want you to wrap those beautiful long legs around me. I want you under me and on top of me and sitting and standing. I want to see your eyes when pleasure makes you light up. I want to hold you when you come down and try to find your breath. I want everything with you, Ellie. I care about you more than I've cared about a woman in so long. I hardly recognized the feelings. I'm dying for you." (Noah Kincaid) — Robyn Carr

One should let one's fingernails grow for a fortnight. Oh! how sweet to snatch brutally from his bed a boy who has as yet nothing upon his upper lip, and, with eyes open wide, to feign to stroke his forehead softly, brushing back his beautiful locks! And all of a sudden, just when he least expects it, to sink your long nails into his tender breast, but not so that he dies, for if he died you would miss the sight of his subsequent sufferings. Then you drink his blood, sucking the wounds, and during this time, which should last an eternity, the child weeps. — Comte De Lautreamont

You're Mara, you're sweet, you're beautiful and I will not forget until the day I die how beautiful it felt to slide inside you with you wrapped around me, see your eyes get wet and know straight in my gut that you felt how beautiful it was too. — Kristen Ashley

Her little shoulders drove me mad; I hugged her and hugged her. And she loved it.
'I love love,' she said, closing her eyes. I promised her beautiful love. I gloated over her. Our stories were told; we subsided into silence and sweet anticipatory thoughts. It was as simple as that. You could have all your Peaches and Bettys and Marylous and Ritas and Camilles and Inezes in this world; this was my girl and my kind of girlsoul, and I told her that. — Jack Kerouac

Teach your sweet child to leave the beautiful flowers in the soil. — Mehmet Murat Ildan

I turned to see his expression. When I saw that he was serious, I shot hum a dubious look. "Sleeping in between the toilet and the tub on a cold, hard tile floor with a vomiting idiot was one of your best nights? That's sad, Trav."
"No, sitting up with you when you're sick and you falling asleep in my lap was one of my best night." ( ... ) "Thanks, Trav. I won't make you babysit me again."
He leaned against his pillow. "Whatever. No one can hold your hair back like I can. — Jamie McGuire

I wonder what Lena is doing now. I always wonder what Lena is doing. Rachel, too: both my girls, my beautiful, big-eyed girls. But I worry about Rachel less. Rachel was always harder than Lena, somehow. More defiant, more stubborn, less feeling . Even as a girl, she frightened me - fierce and fiery-eyed, with a temper like my father's once was.
But Lena . . . little darling Lena, with her tangle of dark hair and her flushed, chubby cheeks. She used to rescue spiders from the pavement to keep them from getting squashed; quiet, thoughtful Lena, with the sweetest lisp to break your heart. To break my heart: my wild, uncured, erratic, incomprehensible heart. I wonder whether her front teeth still overlap; whether she still confuses the words pretzel and pencil occasionally; whether the wispy brown hair grew straight and long, or began to curl.
I wonder whether she believes the lies they told her. — Lauren Oliver

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

No, listen. I've got it now. You meet a girl: shy, unassuming. If you tell her she's beautiful, she'll think you're sweet, but she won't believe you. She knows that beauty lies in your beholding." Bast gave a grudging shrug. "And sometimes that's enough."
His eyes brightened. "But there's a better way. You show her she is beautiful. You make mirrors of your eyes, prayers of your hands against her body. It is hard, very hard, but when she truly believes you ... " Bast gestured excitedly. "Suddenly the story she tells herself in her own head changes. She transforms. She isn't seen as beautiful. She is beautiful, seen. — Patrick Rothfuss

Toxic relationships are dangerous to your health; they will literally kill you. Stress shortens your lifespan. Even a broken heart can kill you. There is an undeniable mind-body connection. Your arguments and hateful talk can land you in the emergency room or in the morgue. You were not meant to live in a fever of anxiety; screaming yourself hoarse in a frenzy of dreadful, panicked fight-or-flight that leaves you exhausted and numb with grief. You were not meant to live like animals tearing one another to shreds. Don't turn your hair gray. Don't carve a roadmap of pain into the sweet wrinkles on your face. Don't lay in the quiet with your heart pounding like a trapped, frightened creature. For your own precious and beautiful life, and for those around you - seek help or get out before it is too late. This is your wake-up call! — Bryant McGill

Did you know, you're sort of beautiful?'
'You hit your head pretty hard, didn't you? — Stephenie Meyer

"Breathe deeply and concentrate on me. You are safe."
I take a shallow breath, but it chokes me.
"Look at me," Morpheus presses. I focus on his complexion, the color of snowy shadows beneath the eclipse of his wings, and he begins to sing. Not inside my mind, since the iron dome prevents it, but aloud ... a simple, sweet lullaby, carried on his beautiful voice.
"Little blossom so filled with dread, clear the nightmares from your head. Let me wipe away your tears, for in this place you have no fears." — A.G. Howard

A certain dervish tells a dream in the night-talking.

"I saw the sheikhs who are connected to Khidr. I asked them where I might get some daily food

without being bothered about earning it, so I could continue my devotions uninterrupted.

'Come to the mountains and eat wild fruit. Our benedictions have made its

bitterness sweet. That way your days will be free. 'I did as they said, and from the fruit

came a gift of speech that made my words exciting and spiritually transporting, valuable

to many. "This is dangerous,' I thought. 'Lord of the world, give me another, more

hidden gift.' I escaped. The beautiful speech left, and a joy came that I have

never known. I burst open like a pomegranate. 'If heaven is nothing but this feeling,

I have no further wish. — Jalaluddin Rumi

He slid over to me and grabbed me closer to him. My smile fell from my face with the unexpectedness of it. His hands cupped my face, his lips hovering above mine.
"You seriously want to know, Tess?"
He closed the space and claimed my mouth with an urgent, hot, delving kiss.
He smiled. "You are sexy, in your own goofball way, you're sweet and beautiful and smart and funny and, although you kiss to the point where I feel like I want to go back for seconds, you're my best friend, and that's why I don't want to tap that. — C.J. Duggan

Little Wing is like one of these beautiful girls that come around sometimes ... you play your gig; it's the same thing as the olden days, and these beautiful girls come around.. you do actually fall in love with them because that's the only love you can have. It's not always the physical thing of "Oh, there's one over there ... ", it's not one of those scenes. They actually tell you something. They release different things inside themselves ... "Little Wing" was a very sweet girl that came around that gave me her whole life and more if I wanted it ... — Jimi Hendrix

Please go away, Monsieur le Comte," she said in a polite voice. "You must have tired of your absurd, inconsequential games by now."
"My games are never inconsequential, as long as they entertain me."
She closed her eyes in frustration for a brief moment. "This house is filled with beautiful women ... "
"Oh, not quite filled," he said frankly, leaning back. "The Revels won't start for another day. At this point there are no more than half a dozen beauties in residence."
"Then why don't you go bother one of them?"
"Because I don't want one of them, my sweet. I want you. — Anne Stuart

Five minutes later, the girls stood at the open kitchen door, blinking in the brilliant overcast light. The smell of lilacs, roses, sweet peas, and honeysuckle mixed with the scent of crisp late summer leaves. None of them had been in the gradens for nine months, and the bright saturated greens, reds, and violets overwhelmed them. It reminded Azalea of Mother, beautiful and bright, thick with scents and excitement. And the King-he was like the palace behind them, all straights and grays, stiff and symmetrical and orderly.
"It's really allowed?" said Flora, her eyes alight at the colors.
"Allowed allowed?" said Goldenrod.
"For the last time," said the King, pushing them gently out the kitchen door and onto the path. "It is Royal Business! Go On. Get some color in your cheeks. — Heather Dixon

After climbing off his bike, I smacked his shoulder. "Did you forget I was with you? Are you trying to get me killed?"
"It's hard to forget you're behind me when your thighs are squeezing the life out of me." A smirk came with his next thought. "I couldn't think of a better way to die, actually."
"There is something very wrong with you. — Jamie McGuire

The elaborateness of the cover story made him feel like a criminal. This is what criminals must feel like as they prepare to do a job, he thought, constructing a world based on the fullness (and falseness) of the cover story. And yet he was not going to commit a murder or rob a bank or burglarize a house. He was only going to do something so normal the wonder was that it did require such an elaborate preparation. But it was the combination of secretness and commonness that made it so sweet. It was what everyone wanted and almost nobody did, to slip out of or through the structure that gave your life a shape into a room where your life took the shape you wanted it to have, to love and be loved by someone perfectly beautiful. — Ron Loewinsohn

Well, hell yeah! I'm gonna kick your ass, too!"
I narrowed my eyes at him. "Not this time you're not. I have a new superpower."
He laughed. "And what's that? Harsh language?"
I leaned over to kiss his neck once, and then ran my tongue up to his ear, kissing his earlobe. He froze in place.
"Distraction," I breathed into his ear.
He grabbed my arms and flipped me onto my back. "You're going to miss another class. — Jamie McGuire

There was dancing to wear your feet down, and there were beautiful boys and girls, and kisses were cheaper than wine but the wine was sweet and the fruit sweeter. And you could still hear the music in your head. — Cassandra Clare

Antonio, I speak to you from beyond the grave, in seriousness. I have loved you with all my shameful heart, as much as I once loved Francisco, and I have conquered any envy that I might have felt. If a dead man may have a wish, it is that you should find your future with Pelagia. She is beautiful and sweet, there is no one who deserves you more, and no one else worthy of you. I wish that you will have children together, and I wish that once or twice you will tell them about their Uncle Carlo that they never saw. As for me, I hoist my knapsack on my shoulders and buckle the webbing, I put my arm through the sling of my rifle, and I open the veil to march into the unknown as soldiers always will. Remember me.
Carlo. — Louis De Bernieres

The woman's face was grimly drawn, an ugly expression on an indescribably beautiful face. "This is the Shadowdun. You know who I am, but I wish to know you more. What is your name?" Her voice was rich; it sounded sweet and smooth in Athena's ears, like soft honey. She hated every last word. — Kendra Sunderson

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

The rose is a very common flower that everyone sees as beautiful. A rose by any other name would smell as sweet right? It means that what matters is what something is, not what it is called. People are too quick to judge once they hear your name. They base their judgment on what they've heard instead of what really matters. - Christian Jones — Angela Karaky

A secret love is beautiful, sweet and sacred when it's just a light infatuation; but when that person reaches over and touches you in the heart, making it alive in a way it has never known, that secret love becomes frightening, because you can never make them love you, you would never want to make them love you ... but all the same, no matter which way you view it, they don't love you ... and your heart doesn't know how to beat the same. — Stefanie Schneider

Now the best thing is to put attention to your spirit. If you start putting your attention to spirit, the sweetness of the spirit itself will make the whole thing very sweet and beautiful. — Nirmala Srivastava

Practice self-nurturing, not only to get you through hard times but to guide you into a loving relationship with yourself. When you follow through with a simple act like comforting yourself with homemade soup, bringing home a fragrant flower for your night table, or taking a sweet solitary walk in a beautiful place, then you get an experience of being kind to yourself that can answer all those questions about "what do they mean, love myself?" This question is more easily answered by doing than by thinking. — Dossie Easton

These are my cards on the table. I think you're beautiful. I feel like I'm an idiot with dirt on his face sitting next to someone out of a painting. I think...I think I'm just plain stupid for you. I know that's not exactly sweet talk out of a play. Frankly, I'd kiss your shadow. I'd kiss dirt that had your heel print on it. I like feeling this way. I don't give a damn what you or anyone else thinks...this is how it feels every time I look at you. — Scott Lynch

The Nigger was a handsome, austere woman with snow-white hair and a dark and awful dignity. Her brown eyes, brooding deep in her skull, looked out on an ugly world with philosophic sorrow. She conducted her house like a cathedral dedicated to a sad but erect Priapus. If you wanted a good laugh
and a poke in the ribs, you went to Jenny's and got your money's worth; but if the sweet worldsadness close to tears crept out of your immutable loneliness, the Long Green was your place. When you came out of there you felt that something pretty stern and important had happened. It was no jump in the hay. The dark beautiful eyes of the Nigger stayed with you for days. — John Steinbeck

I can't blame you!
You really have no idea, how important you are
How elegant you look and how sweet is your smile
Everyone can smell you, from thousands kilometers away
They can feel like the hungry wolves
How delicious you are
And they can see you from far planets
Mars and Jupiter
Like the owls with big eyes
They know you are not human
Because no one have seen a creature
With such beauty and prettiness
I haven't seen angels
But I am sure they are not as beautiful as you are
Even beauty by nature has its limits
But I have to confess there is no limit in yours. — M.F. Moonzajer

There are many paths leading to a garden and many experiences awaiting those who venture in. No matter what your motive - whether to grow healthy, delicious food; spend time outdoors feeling more alive than your desk job allows; help save the planet; find relaxation, solace, or healing; meet your neighbors; get your hands in the sweet earth; or discover for yourself just how abundant and generous nature can be - a garden rarely disappoints. It's a magnet for life in all its quirky, beautiful forms. — Jane Shellenberger

Thomas Builds-the-Fire's stories climbed into your clothes like sad, gave you itches that could not be scratched. If you repeated eve a sentence from one of those stories, your throat was never the same again. Those stories hung in your clothes and hair like smoke, and no amount of laundry soap or shampoo washed them out. Victor and Junior often tried to beat those stories out of Thomas, tied him down and taped his mouth shut. They pretended to be friendly and tried to sweet talk Thomas into temporary silences, made promises about beautiful Indian women and cases of Diet Pepsi. But none of that stopped Thomas, who talked and talked. — Sherman Alexie

It was the way your sweet, soft hands wiped away my tears, and the way your body just curved into mine when you let me hold you. It all made me feel, for just an instant, that everything really was going to be all right. No one has ever comforted me like that ... except my mom." What the fuck? Did I just say all that out loud? I shook my head furiously from side to side as the room started spinning me like a Tilt-a-Whirl at the county fair back home.
Abby grabbed my shoulders to steady me. I blinked my eyes trying to focus on her blurry, but beautiful image. "Most of all, it's that I want someone like you to want me - just for me, not for Jake Slater the singer of Runaway Train." I smacked my hand hard against my chest. "For what's really inside me. — Katie Ashley

I don't know where you are these days, what's broken down and what's beautiful in your life this season. I don't know if this is a season of sweetness or one of sadness. But I'm learning that neither last forever. There will, I'm sure, be something that invades this current loveliness. That's how life is. It won't be sweet forever. But it won't be bitter forever either. If everywhere you look these days, it's wintery, desolate, lonely, practice believing in springtime. It always, always comes, even though on days like today it's nearly impossible to imagine, ground frozen, trees bare and spiky. New life will spring from this same ground. This season will end, and something entirely new will follow it. — Shauna Niequist

I carry your heart with me (I carry it in my heart)I am never without it (anywhere
I go you go,my dear; and whatever is done by only me is your doing,my darling)
I fear no fate (for you are my fate,my sweet)I want no world (for beautiful you are my world,my true)
and it's you are whatever a moon has always meant and whatever a sun will always sing is you
here is the deepest secret nobody knows
(here is the root of the root and the bud of the bud and the sky of the sky of a tree called life; which grows
higher than the soul can hope or mind can hide)
and this is the wonder that's keeping the stars apart
I carry your heart (I carry it in my heart) — E. E. Cummings

Thank you, miss ... ?"
"Annabelle." She dropped a napkin onto his lap and smiled. "And might I say you are a handsome gent. Beautiful green eyes! I can see why Miss Ayden fancies your company!"
Kane frowned. "Miss Ayden? Is this the same creepy woman with the gray eyes and weapons arsenal dangling from her hips?"
"Why yes, sir. Although, she's not so scary, once you get to know her." Anna backed away and clasped her fingers together. "Bit of a sweet spot she has." She winked.
"Yeah. I noticed. — Keri Lake

You made me face something I should have faced a long time ago. I'm grateful. And I should have never asked you to leave. You don't ask someone you to love to walk out of your life — Jaci Burton

I can only speak from my personal experience, but I've been married for ten years and barely any gay people have tried to break up my marriage. I say barely any because that Nate Berkus is a little shady. I am defenseless against his cuteness and eye for accessories. He is always convincing me to buy beautiful trinkets with our grocery money, and this drives your sweet father a bit nuts. So you might want to keep your eye on Berkus. But with the exception of him, I'm fairly certain that the only threats to your father's and my marriage are our pride, insecurity, anger, and wanderlust. Do not be afraid of people who seem different from you, baby. Different always turns out to be an illusion. Look hard. — Glennon Doyle Melton

{Letter from Debbs to Eva Ingersoll, husband of Robert Ingersoll, just after the news of Robert's death}

We were inexpressibly shocked to hear of the sudden death of your dear husband and our best loved friend. Most tenderly do we sympathize with you, and all of yours in your great bereavement... Gifted with the rarest genius, in beautiful alliance with his heroism, his kindness and boundless love, he made the name of Ingersoll immortal.

To me, he was an older brother and as I loved him living, so will I cherish his sweet memory forever. — Eugene V. Debs

The trouble is, when you gift a girl with flowers your choice can be construed so many different ways. A man might give you a rose because he feels you are beautiful, or because he fancies their shade or shape or softness similar to your lips. Roses are expensive, and perhaps he wishes to show through a valuable gift that you are valuable to him.
When a man gives you a rose what you see may not be what he intends. You may think he sees you as delicate or frail. Perhaps you dislike a suitor who considers you sweet and nothing else. Perhaps the stem is thorn, and you assume he thinks you likely to hurt a hand too quick to touch. But if he trims the thorns you might think he has no liking for a thing that can defend itself with sharpness. There's so many ways a thing can be interpreted. — Patrick Rothfuss

Devotion is not about a God. Devotion is about you making your emotions so sweet that your life experience becomes beautiful. — Jaggi Vasudev

And I'm clued into the fact that no matter how hard I can make you come, no really good orgasm is gonna erase your perceptions of yourself and replace them with how I see you. I know what I got on my hands. I also know that most women who look like you have their heads up their asses in a different, far more annoying way. So the bright side is, what happened to you, even though you're as beautiful as you are, you'll never think your shit doesn't stink. And I gotta say, sweetheart, I get your sweet, I get your attitude, I get your mouth and I get all that without conceit and you thinkin' you can lead me around by my dick, so this is not a bad thing at all. — Kristen Ashley

Spring is beautiful, and smells sweet. Spring is when you shake the curtains, and pound on the rugs, and take off your long underwear, and wash in all the corners. — Virginia Cary Hudson

You always were selfish. Your one fault. Not willing to share anything, are you?" Suddenly, Damon's lips curved up in a singularly beautiful smile. But fortunately the lovely Elena is more generous. Didn't she tell you about our little liaisons? Why? The first time we met she almost gave herself to me on the spot."
"That's a lie!"
"Oh, no, dear brother, I never lie about anything important. Or do I mean unimportant? Anyway, your beauteous damsel nearly swooned into my arms. I think she likes men in black." As Stefan stared at him, trying to control his breathing, Damon added, almost gently, "You're wrong about her, you know, You think she's sweet and docile like Katherine. She isn't. She's not your type at all, my saintly brother. She has a spirit and a fire in her that you wouldn't know what to do with."
"And you would, I suppose."
Damon uncrossed his arms and slowly smiled again. "Oh, yes. — L.J.Smith

Tattoo your name across my heart, so it will remain / not even death could make us part / what kind is it / It could be a sweet dream or a beautiful nightmare / either way I don't want to wake up from you. — Beyonce Knowles

What I'm feeling, I think, is joy. And it's been some time since I've felt that blinkered rush of happiness, This might be one of those rare events that lasts, one that'll be remembered and recalled as months and years wind and ravel. One of those sweet, significant moments that leaves a footprint in your mind. A photograph couldn't ever tell its story. It's like something you have to live to understand. One of those freak collisions of fizzing meteors and looming celestial bodies and floating debris and one single beautiful red ball that bursts into your life and through your body like an enormous firework. Where things shift into focus for a moment, and everything makes sense. And it becomes one of those things inside you, a pearl among sludge, one of those big exaggerated memories you can invoke at any moment to peel away a little layer of how you felt, like a lick of ice cream. The flavor of grace. — Craig Silvey

He held her face in his hands, and stared into her eyes, and said that she was his for only a while anyway, and that it wasn't his going to Cranwell that would split them up. "You're destined for greater things, Susannah Hammond. I see it in you. You're so clever, so bright. So beautiful. So special. I'm not any of those things. Except when I'm flying, maybe. Down here, I'm ordinary. I'm going to be just a memory for you. A sweet one, I hope. Happy. But just a part of your past. I might be good enough for now, but I'm not good enough forever. Not for you. — Elizabeth Noble

His fingers fucked her slowly as he lowered his head and purred."Oh,so beautiful.So pink.Every inch of you cries for me.Eating your sweet pussy makes my cock cry too."
He covered her clit with his mouth and drew the bud into his wet heat,suckling it as he'd suckled her swollen tit. — Laura Wright

Gabriel settled over her, pinning her in place. His mouth lowered to her shoulder for a brief, soft bite. "You obsess me, with your sweet mouth and clever little hands . . . your beautiful back . . . and legs . . ." "You need a hobby," Pandora said severely as she felt his erection against her bottom. "Have you ever tried writing poetry? Building a ship in a bottle?" "You're my hobby." He pressed his lips to the back of her neck, having discovered it was a particularly sensitive place. — Lisa Kleypas

Is your face a beautiful blossom
or a sweet torture?
I have no complaints
but my heart is tempted
to let you
hear of its sorrows. — Rumi