#ch

People can love their lies, tell their lies, believe their own lies until hell pays a visit. ↗

— Carol Plum-Ucci

#love

Do you want to be with someone who loves you for something that isn’t really you? - Jane ↗

— Eileen Cook

#love

To fall in love and to commit yourself to love means you should make your loved one the one thing you cherish the most. ↗

— Kou Yoneda

#commitment #falling-in-love #loved-ones #love

I don’t know what it is but every time I see you I feel such a strong urge, to be near you, to protect you, to hold you in my arms and never let you go.” Luke Nero - The Witchlings-Midnight curse ↗

— Amanda Turner

#love #paranormal #romance #the-witchlings-midnight-curse #love

No one was ever saved because his sins were small; no one was ever rejected on account of the greatness of his sins. Where sin abounded, grace shall much more abound. ↗

— Archibald Alexander

#account #because #ever #grace #greatness

olivia reminds me of a bird sometimes, how her feathers get all ruffled when she's mad. and when she's fragile like this, she's a little lost bird looking for its nest. ↗

— R.J. Palacio

#home #love #protection #rj-palacio #wonder

He shot to his feet, faced off against her. "No more mercy for ye, Valkyrie." Holding nothing back, he launched a haymaker at her head. She ducked and laughed. "That accent you work so hard to hide is coming out! Are ye feckin' Oirish this time? Eh, boyo?" She leapt atop his desk, punting the side of his head. "Those swords are mine! Touch them, and I'll use 'em to slice off your nutsack! For a coin purse! ↗

— Kresley Cole

#berserker #declan-chase #dreams-of-a-dark-warrior #immortals-after-dark #kresley-cole

But for the most part, love is a recognition, an opportunity to say, 'There is something about you I cherish. ↗

— Raymond E. Feist

#love #love

Imora thea mi savur," Ash whispered under his breath in Atlantean. God save me from love. ↗

— Sherrilyn Kenyon

#love

That's how it is, Rocamadour: in Paris we're like fungus, we grow on the railings of staircases, in dark rooms with greasy smells, where people make love all the time and then fry some eggs and put on Vivaldi records, light cigarettes... and outside there are all sorts of things, the windows open onto the air and it all begins with a sparrow or a gutter, it rains a lot here, rocamadour, much more than in the country, and things get rusty... we don't have many clothes, we get along with so few, a good overcoat, some shoes to keep the rain out, we're very dirty, everybody is dirty and good-looking in Paris, Rocamadour, the beds smell of night and deep sleep, dust and books underneath. ↗

— Julio Cortázar

#love