Tell Your Man You Love Him Quotes & Sayings

You are her mother.
Why did you not warn her,
hold her like a rotting boat
and tell her that men will not love her
if she is covered in continents,
if her teeth are small colonies,
if her stomach is an island
if her thighs are borders?

What man wants to lie down
and watch the world burn
in his bedroom?

Your daughter 's face is a small riot,
her hands are a civil war,
a refugee camp behind each ear,
a body littered with ugly things.

But God,
doesn't she wear
the world well? — Warsan Shire

Sounding hoarse, Dare whispered, "Tell me what you want."
The feel of his broad, strong hand against her left her quaking inside - in a good way. The tremble sounded in her tone as she tried to explain. "I want to be whole again. I want to be me, the person I was before I was taken to Tijuana."
Dare said nothing. Molly felt his hesitation, his indecision. God love the man, he didn't want to take advantage of her.
"I know what I want, Dare." She covered his hand with her own, pressed him closer. "I want to replace the bad memories with new ones. Better ones."
His hand curved around her, but he said nothing.
Watching his face, Molly whispered, "I want to do that now, with you. — Lori Foster

If I truly loved a man, his fortune or lack of one would not make any difference to me. In any case, we cannot always choose with whom we fall in love. When it happens, it is not something we can just dismiss on a whim or tell to go away. There is no rhyme nor reason in matters of the heart. — Jane Odiwe

I wouldn't change anything as long as it brought me here, back to you," I whisper. He stops my words with his lips on mine, kissing me with acceptance and love. With every cell in my body I kiss him back, I love this man. Although I told him he was the man I love, I had yet to tell him the actual words. "Marry me," I whisper in between kisses. As — Amelia Oliver

I know God loves me. I tell people all the time I'm one of his favorite childs. I had to believe in something bigger than me - bigger than man. I had to believe that God would send somebody across my path to keep my dreams alive. — Darlene Love

What? You're just going to stand there and watch me?" she snapped at him.
"You're not very nice," he stated, taking a lesson from his brother.
"I'm not nice? You're the one who busted into a bank and blew a man's hand to kingdom come!" she said. "You shot me, you kidnapped me, you cut off my hair. I've got a bruise in the shape of your handprint on my upper arm. But I'm not a nice person?" she fumed. "Tell me, which of the items on that list would inspire me to be nice to you?" Stacy had worked herself into such a rage that she couldn't stop. "I swear, I'd love to beat the crap out of you! — Debra Trueman

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

What do you see when you look at me?"
My eyes narrowed and I pressed my lips together, weighing my thoughts. All of his bimbo admirers aside, what did I see? What did my gut tell me about this man? What did it say that allowed me to wind up here with him, under such impulsive circumstances?
"You're a sad man," I swallowed. "You're arrogant and set in your ways, but that creates a fortress for you. It's your safe haven. Behind the moat is someone who has lost something he loved, only I'm not sure what, or who. You're afraid of something and your loyalty is hidden away in a cell, wounded by betrayal." I rested my head on the pillow. "That's what I see."
"On second thought," he exhaled, letting his head drop next to mine. "You're psychic. — Rachael Wade

To keep something, you must take care of it. More, you must understand just what sort of care it requires. You must know the rules and abide by them. She could do that. She had been doing it all the months, in the writing of her letters to him. There had been rules to be learned in that matter, and the first of them was the hardest: never say to him what you want him to say to you. Never tell him how sadly you miss him, how it grows no better, how each day without him is sharper than the day before. Set down for him the gay happenings about you, bright little anecdotes, not invented, necessarily, but attractively embellished. Do not bedevil him with the pinings of your faithful heart because he is your husband, your man, your love. For you are writing to none of these. You are writing to a soldier. — Dorothy Parker

If with pleasure you are viewing
Any work a man is doing;
If you like him or you love him, tell him now.
Don't withhold your approbation
Till the preacher makes oration
And he lies with snowy lilies o'er his brow.
For no matter how you shout it,
He won't really care about it;
He won't know how many teardrops you have shed.
If you think some praise is due him,
Now's the time to slip it to him,
For He cannot read his tombstone when he's dead. — Clyde H. Box

No, you don't understand, young man. You couldn't understand. Emily was my life. I got up in the morning for her, I went to work for her, I built a business for her. I couldn't wait to get home at night to tell her about my day. I went to bed with her and I dreamed about her when I slept. She was my passion, my wife, my best friend, the love of my life. And one day, without warning, she was gone and my life is a void. You couldn't possibly understand. — Christopher Moore

Hello, old friend. And here we are. You and me, on the last page. By the time you read these words, Rory and I will be long gone. So know that we lived well and were very happy. And above all else, know that we will love you always. Sometimes I do worry about you though. I think once we're gone you won't be coming back here for awhile. And you might be alone. Which you should never be. Don't be alone, Doctor. And do one more thing for me. There's a little girl waiting in a garden. She's going to wait a long while, so she's going to need a lot of hope. Go to her. Tell her a story. Tell her that if she's patient, the days are coming that she'll never forget. Tell her she'll go to see and fight pirates. She'll fall in love with a man who'll wait two thousand years to keep her safe. Tell her she'll give hope to the greatest painter who ever lived. And save a whale in outer space. Tell her, this is the story of Amelia Pond. And this is how it ends. — Steven Moffat

He made a small movement of his head. "Do you love Pennhyll as well as you do the mountain upon which it sits?"
"I find it much like you."
His mouth quirked, and then, curved in another smile. She stared, transfixed by the sight. "Unpleasant and forlorn?"
She tipped her head to one side, considering him. She felt an odd sensation of understanding this harsh man who was, in fact, a stranger to her. "Not entirely unpleasant, that I will admit. Nor forlorn, either."
"Do not tell me you find me amiable."
"Certainly not. Like Pennhyll, you are strong and fierce." She felt, ridiculous as it was, that she knew him better than she knew herself. "To make a life here is to have courage and heart, and those you surely have. — Carolyn Jewel

When they killed him, Mother wouldn't hold her peace, so they slit her throat. I was stupid then, being only nine, and I fought to save them both. But the thorns held me tight. I've learned to appreciate thorns since. The thorns taught me the game. They let me understand what all those grim and serious men who've fought the Hundred War have yet to learn. You can only win the game when you understand that it IS a game. Let a man play chess, and tell him that every pawn is his friend. Let him think both bishops holy. Let him remember happy days in the shadows of his castles. Let him love his queen. Watch him loose them all. — Mark Lawrence

I think can sit here for hours,
Arguing with the world as to why I can't give up,
Tell everyone around me what a blessing you are,
Laugh at all the times that you've brought sun into my life,
I can tell everyone how passionate you are and how much you bring into this world,
But right now I'm sitting here for hours,
Trying to keep myself together because I'm trying to figure out how to tell the world that the man I love,
Is the reason why I'm so broken. — Tanzy Sayadi

Tell me,' the man leans forward ans says, 'have you heard of a lady called Madeleine? No? In 1996, this lady named Albright Madeleine, the US ambassador to the United Nations, was asked on television how she felt about the fact that five hundred thousand Iraqi children had died as a result of US economic sanctions? Do you know what she said? She said that it was "a very hard choice" but "we think the price is worth it". These are her exact words. How do you feel about that?
'How do you think I feel about that? And I would take your love for children more seriously if you didn't have children cleaning your floors. — Nadeem Aslam

) "Do you hear his voice as you hear me? Is it a voice outside your head?"
"It's difficult to explain. It isn't a voice like anything I've ever heard before. It isn't a man or a woman, it's God."
"How do you know?"
"Because the voice says so. And I believe it."
"Does it talk to you or does it talk about you or others?"
"It talks to me."
"Does it call your name?"
"Yes ... It says something like: "Cain, listen. There's something I want you to tell the others. Tell them they must love themselves. Tell them they are beautiful.""
"Who are the others?"
"Black people."
"You mean God is talking to the black people through you."
"I mean God is black. — Olga Nunez Miret

Ignorance of naturall causes disposeth a man to Credulity, so as to believe many times impossibilities: for such know nothing to the contrary, but that they may be true; being unable to detect the Impossibility. And Credulity, because men love to be hearkened unto in company, disposeth them to lying: so that Ignorance it selfe without Malice, is able to make a man bothe to believe lyes, and tell them; and sometimes also to invent them. — Thomas Hobbes

Opinion. Love meant being brave, otherwise you had already lost your own argument: the man who couldn't tell a woman he loved her was, by definition, not worthy of her. — Nick Hornby

You can tell a lot about what a man lacks by watching what he is cynical about, and many of us are cynical about love. — Merle Shain

Then it stands to reason that love doesn't make a man less than what he already is."
"It makes him vulnerable."
"Perhaps it does," Ramsey agreed.
"And if his mind is constantly consumed with thoughts of her, then he becomes weak. Is that not so?"
Ramsey smiled. "I'll tell you what is so. You love her, Brodick, and that scares the hell out of you."
"I should have broken your nose. — Julie Garwood

All you Westerosi make a shame of loving. There is no shame in loving. If your septons say there is, your seven gods must be demons. In the isles we know better. Our gods gave us legs to run with, noses to smell with, hands to touch and feel. What mad cruel god would give a man eyes and tell him he must forever keep them shut, and never look at all the beauty in the world? — George R R Martin

Laughing, Bailey still put on a little frown. "I want a man to cuddle."
Tucker stopped kissing Maddy long enough to look at Bailey. "Everyone needs love. Even the dipshit. I'll find someone for you." Tucker looked around. "How high are your standards?"
Bailey opened her mouth and I knew a tirade of profanity was coming.
Before she got started, I hugged her to me. "Tuck wants to help you. It's his asshole way of showing his love. Tell him thank you and we'll train him to be less of a jerk."
Bailey took a deep breath and nodded. "Thank you, Tucker."
A sober Tucker might have teased his sister, but the drunken version hugged her and told her that he would find someone great. Hot, big dick, money, good hair, the whole package.
Cooper frowned at both me and Farah. "You two are having an adverse influence on the family. Fucking Sawyer said thank you earlier today. What's next? Will she say please?"
Grinning, Farah cuddled up to Cooper. — Bijou Hunter

You can find yourself a decent,
honorable man, one to love you, respect you, cherish you. Someone with
morals, with a decent job and a good future. That's what you think you
want, isn't it? Not some white trash from Alabama. Not some ex-con
who's running the scam of a lifetime. You're so good and decent, the very
thought of me disgusts you, doesn't it?" His voice was low and seductive
as he pushed the words at her.
She met his gaze with what she hoped was a fearless one of her own.
"Yes," she said.
"Then tell me, Rachel," he said, letting his hand toy with the loose
neckline of her tunic, "why aren't you out somewhere, fucking your little
gentleman's brains out? Why are you here with me, quivering when I
touch you? — Anne Stuart

I believe it is love, but how does one tell?"
Her friend's gaze grew thoughtful. "The signs are usually recognizable. When you love a man, he becomes the center of your world. You yearn to be with him, and when you are not, he is constantly on your mind. He brightens your day. His simplest touch sparks passion in you... a tender look fires a
warmth in your heart. Life feels empty without him. — Nicole Jordan

Don't go woman on me and tell me you don't need a man to complete you. It's bullshit. Woman looks like you, goddamn waste. But a woman who has the love you got to give, that's not a waste. That's a crying shame. — Kristen Ashley

Now, girls, if you want to observe a young man hustle out after a pick and shovel, just tell him that your heart is in some other fellow's grave. Young men are grave-robbers by nature. — O. Henry

He tried to tell me week after week to accept things as they were and move on with my life. But if there was one man who had put his life on hold to wait for something or someone, it was him. — Cecelia Ahern

To love someone," she said. "I can tell from your face that you love this man, and you loved your husband, too. What is it like?" "It is . . . wonderful," I replied. "It gives me a reason to wake up every morning. When he is happy, I am happy; when he is sad, I want only to cheer him. It is the best thing in life; nothing else comes close to it. — Jeanne Kalogridis

How am I going to tell the kids? How do I tell the man that I love, the man that I swore I'd grow old with that we won't have that happy ending that he and I have worked so hard for? How do I say goodbye to all of you? How do I let go? — Nicole Ireland

I should like,' said the child, 'to leave my dear love to poor Oliver Twist; and to let him know how often I have sat by myself and cried to think of his wandering about in the dark nights with nobody to help him. And I should like to tell him,' said the child pressing his small hands together, and speaking with great fervour, 'that I was glad to die when I was very young; for, perhaps, if I had lived to be a man, and had grown old, my little sister who is in Heaven, might forget me, or be unlike me; and it would be so much happier if we were both children there together. — Charles Dickens

I am waiting for the right story to tell. Just like 'Man of Tai Chi' just seemed to be the right story to tell. So I'm looking for that. Because I really love directing. I love developing the story. I love actors. I love the cinema of it, the way that you tell a story visually. — Keanu Reeves

But this month is all about CITY OF JASMINE which I hope you already have in your hot little hands. My favorite review snippet? KIRKUS REVIEWS said it's "part screwball comedy".
I can't tell you how much time I spent with Carole Lombard and William Powell and Irene Dunne when I was writing it. I adore the 30s comedies for their light-hearted take on relationships and adventure - and the glamorous settings and occasional dash of intrigue only heighten the magic. (Did you know that Nicholas Brisbane from my Lady Julia series was named for THE THIN MAN's Nick Charles? And apologies to Dashiell Hammett, but I fell in love with the film long before I read the book and appreciated how much it had been lightened in the adaptation!) So when you're reading CITY OF JASMINE, give some thought to who you'd like to see playing Evie and Gabriel - I'd love to hear who you'd cast in your own production. — Deanna Raybourn

Abraham was a man who lived in oneness with God. If I live in oneness with a certain brother day after day, there will be no need for him to tell me of many things. I will already know what he likes and what he does not like, what pleases him and what offends him. If I love him and live in oneness with him, whatever I say and do will be in accordance with his likes or dislikes. I am sorry to say that many Christians [791] do not live in oneness with God. When important matters arise, they kneel down and pray, "O Lord, what is Your will?" Eventually, they do not follow God's will but their own concept. We do not know God's will by praying in such a way. If we would know God's will, we must live in oneness with Him. If we live in oneness with Him, He will not need to tell us what He desires, because we shall already know it by being one with Him. — Witness Lee

She'd seen them on the news, compassionate Americans talking about how the United States should be more welcoming to people who came in peace. She believed these kindhearted people, like Natasha, would never betray them, and she wanted to tell Jende this, that the people of Judson Memorial Church loved immigrants, that their secret was safe with Natasha. But she also knew it would be futile reasoning with a raging man, so she decided to sit quietly with her head bowed as he unleashed a verbal lashing, as he called her a stupid idiot and a bloody fool. The man who had promised to always take care of her was standing above her vomiting a parade of insults, spewing out venom she never thought he had inside him. For the first time in a long love affair, she was afraid he would beat her. She was almost certain he would beat her. And if he had, she would have known that it was not her Jende who was beating her but a grotesque being created by the sufferings of an American immigrant life. — Imbolo Mbue

The old man spoke of nothing but shoes. He spoke of them with such love and emotion that a woman in our group had crowned him "the shoe poet." The woman disappeared a day later but the nickname survived. "The shoes always tell the story," said the shoe poet. "Not always," I countered. "Yes, always. Your boots, they are expensive, well made. That tells me that you come from a wealthy family. But the style is one made for an older woman. That tells me they probably belonged to your mother. A mother sacrificed her boots for her daughter. That tells me you are loved, my dear. And your mother is not here, so that tells me that you are sad, my dear. The shoes tell the story." I paused in the center of the frozen road and watched the stubby old cobbler shuffle ahead of me. The shoe poet was right. Mother had sacrificed for me. — Ruta Sepetys

How many rooms are there in the chambers of your heart? How many rooms full of memories can you describe like the one I'm going to tell you about. You know how you left him don't you? The man you were so in love with once. Bing Cherry Silk. Another man left those for you didn't he? And you put them on, just like I did. — Valentine Bonnaire

Son, I'ma tell you something ain't nobody else in the world can tell you: you got no soul. And I'ma tell your future, too: you ain't never gonna get a soul, you keep makin' people's shit small." Evan's eyes started to roll back in his head and the big man shook him like dust mop until he came back to the room. "You ain't shit, Evan, and you ain't never gonna be shit until you show some passion for something. Y'all got to love something. Y'all got to hate something. Y'all got to want something. Pissing on other people's passion 'cause you trying to be cool just make you a coward - a little bitch. — Christopher Moore

[Robin Stewart] was your man. True for you, you had withdrawn the crutch from his sight, but still it should have been there in your hand, ready for him. For you are a leader-don't you know it? I don't, surely, need to tell you?-And that is what leadership means. It means fortifying the fainthearted and giving them the two sides of your tongue while you are at it. It means suffering weak love and schooling it till it matures. It means giving up you privicies, your follies and your leasure. It means you can love nothing and no one too much, or you are no longer a leader, you are led. — Dorothy Dunnett

I accept you, I tell him. All of you. The broken parts. The bent parts. The ones filled with shame. The cracks where hope seeps through. The little boy cowering in fear and the grown man still suffocating in his shadow. The demons that haunt. Your will to survive. And your spirit that fights. Every single part of you is what I love. What I accept. What I want to help heal. — K. Bromberg

It is one of the severest tests of friendship to tell your friend his faults. So to love a man that you cannot bear to see a stain upon him, and to speak painful truth through loving words, that is friendship. — Henry Ward Beecher

Not fair? Oh, so now, we're talking about fair? Well, let me tell you how fucking not fair this is to me. I fell in love with a man whose fantasy is crawling through my window to escape reality. All the while, my fantasy is walking out that door to navigate reality by his side. I'm pretty sure that is the definition of not fair. — Anonymous

[There's] a joke that I've done forever: 'Nowadays they say that the largest majority of people will be Latino and you'll tell scary stories to your grandkids: "A long time ago when I was growing up, there used to be people who were white," and the kid says, "Really?" and you say, "Yeah, like the man who cuts our grass."' I've had that line forever and I love it. — George Lopez

My love affair with (him) had a wonderful element of romance to it, which I will always cherish. But it was not an infatuation, and here's how I can tell: because I did not demand that he become my Great Emancipator or my Source of All Life, nor did I immediately vanish into that man's chest cavity like a twisted, unrecognizable, parasitical homonculus. During our long period of courtship, I remained intact within my own personality, and I allowed myself to meet (him) for who he was. — Elizabeth Gilbert

That's the thing," Jo says. "You think you know what you're in for. I mean, you tell yourself that, of course, it's not going to be wine and roses and all of that bullshit for the rest of your life, but then, one day, you wake up, and your fucking husband has morphed into someone whom you barely recognize. And you sit there and you stare at him while he scratches his balls through his underwear at the kitchen table, and you think, 'This is totally not what I signed up for. I mean, who knows if I even love this ball-scratching, foul-breathed man?' And then you wonder if you love him more out of habit than out of anything else." She chews the inside of her lip and considers. "And I guess from there, all bets are off. — Allison Winn Scotch

Winter again. The summer people have gone. The early morning walks are solitary once more. Fog wraps the ocean and sky like a wet, gray glove. Sprinting through the frosty dune grass, my dog Buddy emerges soaked and grinning. He's become a man-child, his boundless puppy love and mindless exuberance caroming off the walls in a muscular body. He lives by one rule: To be alive is to be gloriously happy. Not a bad way to be, I often remind myself.

Comfortable in the ebb and flow of each other's idiosyncracies and needs, he keeps me company while I work, I join him often in his play. His unflagging high spirits urge me to cram activity and joy into every waking moment as he does. By so doing, I tell myself, I will multiply my allotted time by dog years and dilate the remaining seasons accordingly. A good way to look at life, I figure. — Lionel Fisher

My friendship with Jack remains strained. I want to believe that he was duped, but he has always been far too clever to fall for another man's ruse. So we have added yet one more thing to our relationship about which we never speak. Sometimes I think we will break beneath the weight of it, but on those occasions I have but to look at my wife in order to find the strength to carry on. I am determined to be worthy of her and that requires that I be a far stronger and better man than I had ever planned to be.
We see Frannie from time to time, not as often as we'd like unfortunately. She did eventually marry, but that is her story to tell.
Dear Frannie, darling Frannie.
She shall always remain the love of my youth, the one for whom I sold my soul to the devil. But Catherine, my beloved Catherine, shall always be the center of my heart, the one who, in the final hour, would not let the devil have me. — Lorraine Heath

If the man be really the weaker vessel, and the rule is necessarily in the wife's hands, how is it then to be? To tell the truth, I believe that the really loving, good wife never finds it out. She keeps the glamor of love and loyalty between herself and her husband, and so infuses herself into him that the weakness never becomes apparent either to her or to him or to most lookers-on. — Charlotte Mary Yonge

As I'm heading back to the ER, my hands shaking from both nerves and anticipation, it occurs to me how much I'm aching to hear his voice again. To brush my thumbs across his cheek and feel the sexy stubble that always seems to be there. I'm dying to tell him about the man with no one to call and make sure he knows that no matter what, when he's forty and injured in the ER, he can call me. He can always call me.
Is this what love is? — Julie Cross

What's killing him is the idea that I will die unhappy, in a miserable marriage. He hates that my life isn't ending on a good note ... So I told him that he's a good man and was the love of my life, both of which are true. I tried to tell him all the things I hadn't told him before ... Mostly, I wanted him to understand the real reason I'd thought our marriage was over. It was over because we forgot to stay in love. Both of us. — Marisa De Los Santos

Charlie glared at the puppet. "I'm really mad."
"Sure you are. Super mad." Leo circled his head one way and then the other. "I've got an idea."
"What?"
"Tell him how mad you are. Then look really pitiful and ask him to take you Boogie-boarding. If you look pitiful enough, I bet he'll feel so bad that he'll take you."
Charlie wasn't born yesterday. He looked past Leo to the man holding him. "Really! Can we go right now?"
His father set Leo aside and shrugged. "The waves look good. Why not? Get your stuff."
Charlie jumped up, and raced toward the house. His legs pumping. But just as he got to the front step, he stopped and whipped around. "I get to drive!"
"No you don't!" his mother countered, slipping Scamp from her arm.
Charlie stomped inside, and his father laughed. "I love that kid. — Susan Elizabeth Phillips

I want to feel the rain on my face, to smile at any man I feel attracted to, to accept all the coffees men might buy for me. I want to kiss my mother, tell her I love her, weep in her lap, unashamed of showing my feelings, because they were always there even though I hid them. — Paulo Coelho

I might like to have someone courting me. But it would have to be someone who is a square shooter and who has a train load of courage. And it would have to be someone who doesn't have to talk down to folks to feel good, or to tell a person they are worthless ifthey just made a mistake. And he'd have to be not too thin. Why, I remember hugging [my brother] Ernest was like warpping your arms around a fence post,and I love Ernest, but I want a man who can hold me down in a wind. Maybe he'd have to be pretty stubborn. I don't have any use for a man that isn't stubborn. Likely a stubborn fellow will stay with you through thick and thin, and a spineless one will take off, or let his heart wander. — Nancy E. Turner

I need to tell you a story.'

What about?

Zachariah, Zachariah, my foundling boy. 'A boy. A boxer, a fighting man. A brother. No. About brothers, sisters. Foundlings, laid-in-the-streets. Fights, fighting. A boy, it all begins with the boy. My love. A wolf. Peter and the Wolf! Oh dear! I am very crazy! Let me - I must tell you this story.'

Why?

'I'm frightened.'

Of?

'Fractals. Patterns.'

Ah, says the fish, looking at Rachel with his wise eyes. Chaos!

'Yes,' thinks Rachel. 'Chaos. Fearful symmetry.'

Go home, says the fish, flipping over, flashing in light, and diving down into the great blue sea. — Emma Richler

So, Lena, darling, tell me, for curiosity's sake. When do you put out?"
...
"Jimmy, my love," I said, my voice soft and sweet, "I don't fuck a guy until he has the balls to actually man up and talk to me about his feelings. — Kylie Scott

Eleanor's eyes widened at the sight of the man.
"I love that reaction." He pointed at Eleanor's face. "That is the 'you didn't tell me how pretty he was look, oui? — Tiffany Reisz

Put a girl in
moonlight
and tell only truths
and every man
becomes a poet. — Atticus Poetry

Logan: I don't care who you are or what you've done. Just tell me why you want to leave. Are you in love with this other man?
Maddy: Oh, no. It's not that, it's ... I promised God that I would go back home if you got well again.
Logan: That's not my idea of a good bargain, sweet. Besides, I wasn't consulted. — Lisa Kleypas

I don't care if I tell that story and John Roderick gets up afterward and yells, 'I hope you enjoyed the white privilege, mortality comedy of John Hodgman!' That's me! I'm going to play a sad Handsome Family song at the end and I guarantee you everyone is going to love it because, sometimes, you need a grown man or woman to tell you what you like. — John Hodgman

I tell girls all the time that the men that have fallen in love with me, have all fallen during a man repeller stage ... funny how life works out like that. — Rachel Roy

A man can tell a woman he's in love with her until he's blue in the face. Words don't mean anything to her when her head is full of doubt. You have to show her. — Colleen Hoover

I have a counteroffer. I'll tell you the job description I really want."
Raine's throat tightened in frustration. If he was going to keep it on this level, it was up to her to force them to the next one. As always.
Seth looked down at his feet. She saw his Adam's apple bob, once. Twice. He met her eyes, with the look of a man who was facing the firing squad. "Full-time lover," he said hoarsely. "Father of your children. Companion in adventure, champion, guardian, protector, helpmeet, mate. Love of you life. Forever. — Shannon McKenna

I'm strapped in [the barrel] with a five-point drag-racing harness. With 50 feet to go, they tell me on the walkie-talkie to get ready for a head-first. "We love ya, man," was the last thing I heard. Then I could feel myself going over. — Steve Trotter

Because only an artist can tell and only an artist have told, since we have heard of man, what it is like for anyone that gets this planet, to survive it. What it is like to die, or to have somebody die, what it is like to fear death, what is it like to fear, what it is like to love, what it is like to be glad. — James Baldwin

I have to tell you, you have to know: I have loved you honorably as a knight should do his lady, and I have loved you passionately as a man might a woman; and now, before I leave you, I want to tell you that I love you, I love you - — Philippa Gregory

Sunshine, you and Jake had sex, but trust me when I tell you, tonight's going to be your first time. The first time you know what it feels like for someone to own your body. The first time a real man makes love to you until you scream so loud the heavens hear you. And the first time you'll understand exactly what you mean to me. — K.J. Bell