Type Of Boyfriend Quotes & Sayings

At this point, you may be wondering how I felt seeing my son with Nico di Angelo. I'll admit I did not understand Will's attraction to a child of Hades, but if the dark foreboding type was what made Will happy ...
Oh perhaps some of you are wondering how I felt seeing him with a boyfriend rather than a girlfriend. If that's the case, please. We gods are not hung up about such things. — Rick Riordan

I've always been the type to fall in love fast and, with every boyfriend, I plan out my wedding in my head. — Kim Kardashian

Suppressing his grimace, James gave his new boyfriend a thin smile. Tall, dark, and handsome, Fred was exactly his type, but James couldn't say he liked Fred all that much. They had been together for two weeks already, but he still felt uneasy every time Fred touched him. He couldn't help it. No matter what his mind knew, his heart still couldn't get the memo that he wasn't Ryan's, and every touch, every kiss felt like cheating. It had been easier with Paul. With Paul, James had managed to half-convince himself he could love Paul. With Fred, he couldn't. He'd chosen Paul because he had liked him; he'd chosen Fred because he needed a boyfriend. Because he needed to distract Ryan, needed to dispel any suspicion. — Alessandra Hazard

Would I love to run around and check out if Jennifer Aniston was looking for a boyfriend? Yeah, it would be interesting for a minute. But would I trade in my life to get her and Angelina [Jolie]? No way. I've got something better. And I don't need the neuroses of two type-A personalities in my life. One is enough. — Jon Bon Jovi

Suddenly Elena wished that Stefan wasn't the type of boyfriend to give her space. She wished that he was here with her. Come to think of it, if they were all grieving for the same person, why shouldn't he be with her? Why had he run away instead of staying to support her? — L.J.Smith

I don't know why this chick has this effect on me, I'm not the boyfriend type. I don't do love. — L.J. Sexton

It needs to be said. I didn't have the strongest stomach. I wasn't the type of guy who could hold your hair while you puked and not be affected. Did that make me the worst possible boyfriend ever? Maybe. It's entirely possible I'd throw you a towel and run out of the room gagging. I know it's romantic to women - oh, my gosh, he's so sweet he held my hair while I puked up last night's hot dog and enough rum and Diet Coke to kill Captain Jack Sparrow! Seriously? What do you women read? How the hell is that romantic? Give me one reason. One. Just one. I don't even need three. Oh, wow, silence, big shock. You wanna know why? Because it's gross. Because if I had long hair and I were leaning over the toilet, God, you would not, ever, in your right mind waltz into the bathroom, put it in a ponytail, rub my back, wipe my mouth, and think, Wow, I really love this guy, oh, look a cracker! — Rachel Van Dyken

I don't know what your type is. I don't know what your deal is. I don't even know if you have a boyfriend. I know I like you and I want to be in your
life, that's it, and if you have any room for a boyfriend, I would like to be your boyfriend, and if you don't have any room, I would like to be your friend.
Any room you have for me in your life is great. If you would like me to start out in one room and move to another, I could do that. — Rob Sheffield

And this bad-boy boyfriend?"
"Bad boy?"
"Yeah. The type you apparently avoid now."
Oh, right." I laugh. It's one single bark of bitterness. "Ummm, he fell into a wood chipper?"
"Poor guy. And the one before that?"
"Eaten by a shark?"
"And before that?"
"Kidnapped by a travelling circus?"
He chuckles. "Wow. Your life's like a cautionary tale."
"Future suitors be warned."
"I'm willing to take my chances," he says with a wink. — M. Leighton

On my floor, there were fifteen first years and ten sophomores. It was quickly discovered that most of the first years on my floor were still involved in high school relationships. It wasn't difficult to figure out who the ten were, as they (okay, by "they" I really mean "we" but I hate to admit to this type of behavior) often began sentences with the phrase, "My boyfriend/girlfriend . . ." As in "My boyfriend loves Coldplay, too!" Or "My boyfriend has a sweater like that, too!" Or "My boyfriend eats and sleeps and excretes waste, too!" Since no upperclassman would ever, ever, ever put a confining label like "boyfriend" or "girlfriend" on the person she/he was hooking up with on a semiregular basis, it was obvious that anyone making such a bold declaration of commitment was referring to a youthful union forged in the halls of her/his former high school. The — Megan McCafferty

Fog rolls between the blackened trees.
Reminds me of hell, actually.
I pull away from Tucker, shivering.
God, I need therapy, I think.
Right. As if I can picture telling my story to a shrink, stretched out on a sofa talking about how I'm part angel, how all angel-bloods have this purpose we're put on earth to fulfill, how on the day of my purpose I happened to bump into a fallen angel. Who literally took me to hell for about five minutes. Who tried to kill my mother. And how I fought him with a type of holy light. Then I had to fly off to save a boy from a forest fire, only I didn't save him. I saved my boyfriend instead, but it turns out that the original boy didn't need saving, anyway, because he's part angel, too.
Yeah, somehow I have a feeling that my first visit to a therapist would end up with me in a straitjacket getting comfy in my new padded cell. — Cynthia Hand