The Woman In White Love Quotes & Sayings

His eyes are cold and restless
His wounds have almost healed
And she'd give half of Texas
Just to change the way he feels
She knows his love's in Tulsa
And she knows he's gonna go
Well it ain't no woman flesh and blood
It's that damned old rodeo


Well it's bulls and blood
It's dust and mud
It's the roar of a Sunday crowd
It's the white in his knuckles
The gold in the buckle
He'll win the next go 'round
It's boots and chaps
It's cowboy hats
It's spurs and latigo
It's the ropes and the reins
And the joy and the pain
And they call the thing rodeo


She does her best to hold him
When his love comes to call
But his need for it controls him
And her back's against the wall
And it's So long girl I'll see you
When it's time for him to go
You know the woman wants her cowboy
Like he wants his rodeo — Garth Brooks

All I wanted to do was get back to Africa. We had not left it, yet, but when I would wake in the night I would lie, listening, homesick for it already. Now, looking out the tunnel of trees over the ravine at the sky with white clouds moving across in the wind, I loved the country so that I was happy as you are after you have been with a woman that you really love, when, empty, you feel it welling up again and there it is and you can never have it all and yet what there is, now, you can have, and you want more and more, to have, and be, and live in, to possess now again for always, for that long sudden-ended always; making time stand still, sometimes so very still that afterwards you wait to hear it move, and it is slow in starting. But you are not alone because if you have every really loved her happy and untragic, she loves you always; no matter whom she loves nor where she goes she loves you more. — Ernest Hemingway,

Ultimately our problems will not be solved by the right man (or woman) in the White House. It simply doesn't work that way. We live in a democracy, a representative form of government, where it's as much if not more our responsibility to love and take care of our neighbors than our politician's responsibility. Real and lasting change comes from knowing and loving the folks who live in the houses that sit next to ours rather than saving all of our longing and hope for the voting booth...Our ultimate hope is not in politicians or powers or governments, but in a day coming when all things will be made right. And our ultimate concern isn't success but faithfulness. — Derek Webb

In the middle of my sophomore year, I was sent to boarding school, at the Cranbrook School for boys, in Bloomfield Hills, Michigan, where I fell in love with Marilyn Monroe. I knew that she was the most beautiful woman in the world, and yet she was in pain, in need. She was unhappy. I believed that I could help her. — Edmund White

A boy from Brooklyn used to cruise on summer nights.
As soon as he'd hit sixty he'd hold his hand out the window,
cupping it around the wind. He'd been assured
this is exactly how a woman's breast feels when you put
your hand around it and apply a little pressure. Now he knew,
and he loved it. Night after night, again and again, until
the weather grew cold and he had to roll the window up.
For many years afterwards he was perpetually attempting
to soar. One winter's night, holding his wife's breast
in his hand, he closed his eyes and wanted to weep.
He loved her, but it was the wind he imagined now.
As he grew older, he loved the word etcetera and refused
to abbreviate it. He loved sweet white butter. He often
pretended to be playing the organ. On one of his last mornings,
he noticed the shape of his face molded in the pillow.
He shook it out, but the next morning it reappeared. — Mary Ruefle

The river was beautiful and wise. There were the two of them being happy in a new way. For here, there was no man, no woman, no master, no yellow, no black, no white. We, we who were, we are the same no longer. — David Paul Kirkpatrick

Like a kite, carried by the wind, he followed her into the fluffy white clouds of her imagination. He didn't think her silly for living in the sky, but rather, he marveled at the wondrous life she had created on the outskirts of reality. He knew her love would elevate him to new emotional heights. — Jaeda DeWalt

If he slept, he dreamt of the woman with the icy white irises. She exploded planes, swallowed oceans and crumpled skies
in her palm in his dreams. Sometimes she and the green-eyed girl were one. At other times, the green-eyed girl was alone, a gaping hole where her heart should have been. At all times he could hear the woman's cold, low laughter. It swept across his consciousness like a hailstorm.
When he woke up, he thought he was going mad. — Sukanya Venkatraghavan

I think everybody has the ability to fall in love with a man or with a woman or a white person or a black person or a Jewish person or a Protestant person or whatever. — Ally Sheedy

Sunlight on orchids
Lightning on water
Twilight calls your name
I have searched for you for centuries
I am the woman who fell in love by accident-
Virtual love- who would have thought, is it even possible? ( I believe so )
I raise my white flag and listen for your echo in my dreams
I'm walking backwards to find you in my past
I'm entangled in your fate~

~Lady A~ — Ladyaslan

Is it really true that the only good thing a Blackman can offer in a relationship with a white woman is thunderous sex?
Of course, sex plays a vital healing role in every loving relationship. That is a fact of life. But, as we discover in the story of Glasgow Kiss, sex is not always the only thing that occupies a Blackman's mind. On the contrary, when a man is as passionate, dedicated, committed and determined as Mamadu is to fight and hold onto his true love, irrespective of the numerous challenges he faces, he is able show that it is far more important to pay attention to his heartbeat than the growing erection in his trousers! — Frank McChebe

From here to Jerusalem no woman has a more beautiful neck;
it was smooth and soft to the touch.
She had a bosom as white has the snow upon a branch,
when it has just fallen.
Her body as well made and svelte;
you would not have had to seek anywhere on earth to find a woman with a more beautiful body.
She had a pretty chaplet of gold embroidery. There was never a girl more elegant or better arrayed;
nor would I have described her right. Above the chaplet of gold embroidery was one of fresh roses, and in her hand she held a mirror,
and she had arranged her hair with a rich head-band. — Guillaume De Lorris

Body of a woman, white hills, white thighs,
you look like a world, lying in surrender.
My rough peasant's body digs in you
and makes the son leap from the depth of the earth.
I was lone like a tunnel. The birds fled from me,
and nigh swamped me with its crushing invasion.
To survive myself I forged you like a weapon,
like an arrow in my bow, a stone in my sling.
But the hour of vengeance falls, and I love you.
Body of skin, of moss, of eager and firm milk.
Oh the goblets of the breast! Oh the eyes of absence!
Oh the roses of the pubis! Oh your voice, slow and sad!
Body of my woman, I will persist in your grace.
My thirst, my boundless desire, my shifting road!
Dark river-beds where the eternal thirst flows
and weariness follows, and the infinite ache. — Pablo Neruda

For a woman to deny the necessity of true love in her life would be to deny herself, and her creator. — Dwain K. White Sr.

When a lack of white blood cells exposes the horizon of being, one has to make a choice. To cloister yourself away in a germ-free environment, alive but alone, or to embrace the woman you love and catch your death of cold at the marriage ceremony? What a great show. It's inner-directed script was unmatched by any other soap opera. — Benson Bruno

You see, love is strong. Stronger than hate even. Love is the only thing that can kill hate, nothing else. You see, hate destroys and that's why love is stronger. It builds. There is hope for all the colored people in this country while one white woman can love one colored man. Love keeps one alive. It makes you understan and fight... — Peter Abrahams

It is well known that women carry poison in their pockets. Did you expect a gun? A woman with a gun would be just another policeman. We fall in love with the convicts, remember that. Policemen marry girls from the neighborhood, high school looms over their unions, the first uniform is her prom dress and his black bow tie and white shirt. But the girls are thinking of poison, thinking of poison as the lights go out on the dresser where the revolver has been placed with care for the night. The black shoes, the fine, thick serge of the coat, shoulders and thighs of stallions. And the policemen are usually shot down by someone out of shape, thin, thin, nothing but living bones. Remember that. — Elizabeth Hardwick

I had grown up in a house with a fence around it, and in this fence was a white smooth wooden gate, two holes bored round and low together so the dog could see through. One night, the moon high, late for me home from the school dance, I remember that I stopped, hand on the gate, and spoke so quietly to myself and to the woman that I would love that not even the dog could have heard.
I don't know where you are, but you're living right now, somewhere on this earth. And one day you and I are going to touch this gate where I'm touching it now. Your hand will touch this very wood, here! Then we'll walk through and we'll be full of a future and of a past and we'll be to each other like no one else has ever been. We can't meet now, I don't know why. But some day our questions will be answers and we'll be caught in something so bright ... and every step I take is one step closer on a bridge we must cross to meet. — Richard Bach

'The White Woman on the Green Bicycle' is a love story mapped onto an unfolding political tragedy: that of the failure of the Independence era in Trinidad. — Monique Roffey

There was nothing to see in the room, but his brain pulled multiple vivid memories to the forefront of his mind.
Entering the house as husband and wife, with Angela holding onto his arm. The night his father died in the downstairs bedroom while he was helpless to do anything but watch from the window; an outsider. Long years of being Angela's Peter Pan before that boy had ever existed, flitting in and out of her window, and her life. Watching the woman he loved grow old and live a life without him by night, then babysitting her killer by day. It was impossible for him to see Amelia as anything else in those early days. The days before he loved her. — Elaine White

If God is the Creator, if God englobes every single thing in the universe, then God is everything, and everything is God. God is the earth and the sky, and the tree planted in the earth under the sky, and the bird in the tree, and the worm in the beak of the bird, and the dirt in the stomach of the worm. God is He and She, straight and gay, black and white and red - yes even that ... and green and blue and all the rest. And so, to despise me for loving women or you for being a Red who made love with a woman, would be to despise not only His own creations but also to hate Himself. My God is not so stupid as that. — Hillary Jordan

In the water is a woman of such beauty that her skin is paler than the white marble and her hair is darker than the night skies. He falls in love with her at once, and she with him, and he takes her to the castle and makes her his wife. — Philippa Gregory

YOU WERE MY FAVORITE THING
AND IN IMAGINATION YOUR DEATH WILL NOT EXIST
IT IS ALL 'AS IF' FROM NOW ON
AS IF YOU ARE NOT GONE
YOU WILL BE THE GIRL BESIDE ME
NEVER MORE THAN A HEARTBEAT LENGTH AWAY
THE WOMAN WHO WILL BE THE HILL OF MY BED
A CLIMB TO THE TOP
AND SUCH VIEWS TO MAKE LITTLE THINGS OF
LITTLE US THAT WILL BE PART YOU AND PART ME
AND WHOLE IN THOSE TWO THINGS
AS IF YOU ARE NOT GONE
AND WILL BE WITH ME TO GET THE WRINKLES
THE WHITE HAIR
THE SPINE SHAPED LIKE A ROCKING CHAIR
AS IF YOU ARE NOT GONE
AND SO WILL HAVE THE LOVE OF GOING IN MY ARMS
WARM AND WITH ME
YES, YOU ARE MY FAVORITE THING
YOU ALWAYS WILL BE. — Tiffany McDaniel

I look at the white woman's cards and listen to her bold English words - dog, cat, house - and there is all the evidence of what is to come in my life. I am not to go the way of the two people I long for in the thick terror of the night. The first man I love and the first woman I adore, my father and my mother with their Spanish words, are not in these cards. The road before me is English and the next part too awful to ask aloud or even silently: What is so wrong with my parents that I am not to mimic their hands, their needs, not even their words? — Daisy Hernandez

When you see a white woman and a white man eating dinner together, watching a movie, or drinking at a bar you probably think they are a couple. Not so fast! White people often engage in something called a "platonic friendship." These arrangements feature a white male who is in love with a white female who needs companionship or access to someone with a car. The relationship is symbiotic for a long time as the white male believes he is making "progress" in his efforts to sleep with the white woman. The white female is in turn rewarded with companionship, someone to help her move, and an excellent "backup" plan in case she is unable to date the male of her choice. — Anonymous

When he reached the desk he handed Caroline a photograph in a dark blue cardboard frame. It was a portrait, black and white, faintly tinted. The woman looking out wore a pale peach sweater. Her hair was gently waved, her eyes a deep shade of blue. Rupert Dean's wife, Emelda, dead now for twenty years. "She was te love of my life," he announced to Caroline, his voice so loud that people looked up. — Kim Edwards

And there's a woman dressed in white, who's nice to hear, and soft to touch, and she whispers, 'Colette, I love you very much' I have a place where no one is ost, and where no one cries, because crying is not aloud, on my Castle In the Clouds — Victor Hugo

But this noble woman had a soul that belonged to her alone -- that valued womanhood above wifehood or motherhood. A woman with a capacity for love and life made really by a ... finer courage, a higher more difficult ideal of the white flame of chastity than was "moral" or expedient and for which she was compelled to crucify all that society holds sacred and essential -- in name.... — Nancy Horan

I have met the most wonderful girl. Do you remember I told you about her on my last visit? I let her go. I let the woman I love go because I didn't want her to go through what Mom went through. And I've realized that I can't do this without her. That I need her. That she makes me stronger. I don't want to hurt her if it's my turn to end up here - I don't want her to cry every night like Mother does because I'm no longer here with her. Or cry because I'm across the country and she needs me and turns around to find out I'm gone. But I can't give her up. I'm fucking selfish, but I can't give her up. — Katy Evans

I don't have the words to describe my feelings.
A woman, the last thing I think of before falling asleep.
A woman, the first thing I think of when I wake.
A woman, the image that passes before my mind's eye
in a moment of clarity.
A woman, the hands we hold,
the one thing I miss most.
A woman, the laughter that warms my heart and soul.
A woman, the perfume that invokes wonderful memories.
A woman, the love, the love, the embrace, the joy,
the wonderful joy. — Jeffrey A. White

A working woman, rising before dawn to spin and needing light in her cottage room, piles brushwood on a smoldering log, and the whole heap kindled by the little brand goes up in a mighty blaze. Such was the fire of Love, stealthy but all-consuming, that swept through Medea's heart. In the turmoil of her soul, her soft cheeks turned from rose to white and white to rose. — Apollonius Of Rhodes

I would never normally approach a woman in this way, but I couldn't help but notice that you have the eyes of a lady I was once desperately in love with. "
"What a shame to love only once," she said, showing her white teeth in a wicked smile. "I've heard some men can manage twice or even more."
I ignored her gibe. "I am only a fool once. Never will I love again. — Patrick Rothfuss

As she felt his fangs against her neck, she was in another world.
There was screaming. A woman was somewhere in agony. Everything was black, and the tormented scream was overwhelming, echoing through the emptiness. After the screaming subsided, there was panting, loud and steady, and it wasn't as dark anymore. There was a room visible now, in a reddish light. A pale man with black hair hovered over a woman dressed in white. She lay on a bed, looking disheveled and sweaty. Her brown-black hair clung to her wet forehead and shoulders. She was covered in blood. The man sat next to her, and held her close to him. He stroked her hair as her chest heaved desperately.
"I love you, my dearest Katerina," he said, cradling her in his strong arms. "Soon, we'll be together forever." Everything faded to black once more, and the woman stopped breathing. All was silent and still. — Dawn Bonney

Everybody has a 'gripping stranger' in their lives, Andy, a stranger who unwittingly possesses a bizarre hold over you. Maybe it's the kid in cut-offs who mows your lawn or the woman wearing White Shoulders who stamps your book at the library - a stranger who, if you were to come home and find a message from them on your answering machine saying 'Drop everything. I love you. Come away with me now to Florida,' you'd follow them. — Douglas Coupland

A witch is a woman who emerges from deep within herself. She is a woman who has honestly explored her light and learned to celebrate her darkness. She is a woman who is able to fall in love with the magnificent possibilities of her power. She is a woman who radiates mystery. She is magnetic. She is a witch. — Dacha Avelin

This book should be sent to the White House, and to our earnest Attorney General, and to everyone in this country able to read - which may, however, alas, be a most despairing statement. We love - the white Americans, I mean - the notion of the little woman behind the great man: perhaps one day, Louise Meriwether will give us her version of What Every Woman Knows. — Louise Meriwether