#love

Ishq Karoge to dard Milega.....!! ↗

— Ameen

#love #love

I love the smell of lip balm in the morning ↗

— Jem Wilton

#love

It was the tyrannical, slightly stupid thing you say after you've made love. ↗

— Roberto Bolaño

#love

I can promise you that I could be sent back to live this year a hundred times, and I would always choose you. I would always. Choose. You. ↗

— Andrea Lochen

#repeat #year #love

Gut instincts were supposed to be the most trustworthy and it was in her gut where she felt the butterflies. The heart had its purpose as a blood pumping muscle, but love...love blossomed and sparked through the body - originating from the gut. ↗

— Nikki Jefford

#follow-your-gut #gut-instincts #love #nikki-jefford #love

She felt empty yet full, spent yet bursting with energy, drowsy yet wide awake. She felt love. ↗

— Andrea Lochen

#repeat #year #love

El amor no esta en la mente ni en el corazón, no esta en un lugar físico, sino en uno invisible, que no se ve, que no se puede palpar o tocar, que solo se puede sentir, como si hubiera llenado un espacio que antes estaba vacío, hueco, pero que ahora al sentirlo es como si se hubiera colmado de sensaciones lindas, hermosas, como cuando alguien planta una flor en un jardín, y este espacio queda lleno de alegría y color y da sentido a su existencia. ↗

— F.J. Vizcarra

#frases-en-espanol #inspirational-quotes #love #inspirational

You've got the wrong girl." "On the contrary..." the voice murmured, "I've got exactly the girl I want." Her body turned to ice. Her mind fought for calm. There were people only yards away, yet she was alone... "You're bleeding." Lips closed over hers. A kiss so passionate that time faded and stopped... so passionate, it sucked her breath away... Searing heat swept through her- pain and pleasure throbbing through her veins. With a helpless moan, she leaned into him and realized with a shock the kiss had ended. ↗

— Richie Tankersley Cusick

#fiction #obsessive-love #paranormal #richie-tankersley-cusick #the-unseen

Childhood friends are continuity, uninterrupted connections between selves, and you hold on them. You hold on them and you love them, but sometimes they're not quite comfortable. ↗

— Lynn Messina

#love

There was the look of the mad saint in her eye, the obsessive, the mortifier of the flesh, but I didn't care. She was lovely, wilting, clear-eyed, and pure, as cool and matchless as if she'd just stepped out of a Pre-Raphaelite painting, and I was in love. Besides, I tended a little that way myself. Hypochondria. Anal retentiveness. The ordered environment and alphabetized books. ↗

— T. Coraghessan Boyle

#love