#l

Riley was quiet for a minute. She gathered her blanket all around her. "Paul always loved you, Alice. He knows I know that. I know he loves me, too. But it's different." Alice opened her mouth, but nothing came out at first. "He loved me once. But I think that part is over," she said slowly. "No, it's not. It hasn't even begun." Riley took Alice's bare foot in her hand and squeezed it. "I told him, though, that he better be good to you. When you came along, I said I'd share you, but I told him to remember that you're my sister. I loved you first." ↗

— Ann Brashares

#love #sisterhood #love

I am a pop widow. ↗

— Louise Rennison

#love

I'd love to write some porn, but I don't know if I have the right engines. When I was a young man and I was tempted to write porn, imaginary parents would appear over my shoulder and read what I was writing; just about the point that I managed to banish the imaginary parents, real children would lean over my shoulder and read what I was writing. ↗

— Neil Gaiman

#on-writing #porn #thoughts-on-writing #love

Risky, thought Paul D, very risky. For a used-to-be-slave woman to love anything that much was dangerous, especially if it was her children she had settled on to love. The best thing, he knew, was to love just a little bit, so when they broke its back, or shoved it in a croaker sack, well, maybe you'd have a little love left over for the next one. ↗

— Toni Morrison

#love

We must not be so ready to fancy ourselves intentionally injured. We must not expect a lively young man to be always so guarded and circumspect. It is very often nothing but our own vanity that deceives us. Women fancy admiration means more than it does. ↗

— Jane Austen

#love #romance #love

‎Keep your love, I have no use for it anymore. ↗

— Richelle Mead

#love

Your lips are like sugar And your cheeks an apple Your breasts are paradise And your body a lily. O, to kiss the sugar To bite the apple To reveal paradise And open the lily. ↗

— Louis de Bernières

#love #philothei #love

كيف يكون الألم أشد حين تكون المحبة أكبر؟ ↗

— تركي الحمد

#novel #pain #love

When you were the son of evil, there was little you couldn't do, own, or kill, and yet her mortal self was an elusive trophy he could touch, but not put on his shelf. This made her rare. This made her precious. This made him...love her. ↗

— J.R. Ward

#lash #lover-mine #love

Hatred is the madness of the heart. ↗

— Lord Byron

#madness #love