#lover

Oh, God, Francesca,Now there’s a good one.Why?Why? Why?” He gave each one a different tenor, as if he were testing out the word, asking it to different people. “Why?” he asked again, this time with increased volume as he turned around to face her. “Why? It’s because I love you, damn me to hell. Because I’ve always loved you. Because I loved you when you were with John, and I loved you when I was in India, and God only knows I don’t deserve you, but I love you, anyway.” Francesca sagged against the door. “How’s that for a witty little joke?” he mocked. “I loveyou. I loveyou, my cousin’s wife. I loveyou, the one woman I can never have. I loveyou, Francesca Bridger-ton Stirling. ↗

— Julia Quinn

#julia-quinn #lover #love

I suspect it may be like the difference between a drinker and an alcoholic; the one merely reads books, the other needs books to make it through the day. ↗

— Gail Carriger

#books #lovers

Lovers don't finally meet somewhere. They're in each other all along. ↗

— Rumi

#lovers

The odd thing about people who had many books was how they always wanted more. ↗

— Patricia A. McKillip

#book-lovers #books #readers #reading #lovers

We live for books. ↗

— Umberto Eco

#book-lovers #books #reading #lovers

I would hold you up. I will ever hold you up and hold you dear, lover mine. ↗

— J.R. Ward

#xhex #lovers

Thanks for putting me up for it ... trahyner." As V's eyes flared, Butch said, "Yeah, I looked up what the word meant. 'Beloved Friend' fits you perfect as far as I'm concerned." V Flushed. Cleared his throat. "Good Deal, cop. Good... deal. ↗

— J.R. Ward

#vishous #lovers

Hands that never touch. Lips that never meet. The Almost Lovers, never to be. ↗

— Rae Hachton

#heartbreak #lament #love #lovers-love-story #lovers-sadness

Sometimes you want to say, “I love you, but…” Yet the “but” takes away the ‘I love you’. In love their are no ‘buts’ or ‘if’s’ or ‘when’. It’s just there, and always. No beginning, no end. It’s the condition-less state of the heart. Not a feeling that comes and goes at the whim of the emotions. It is there in our heart, a part of our heart…eventually grafting itself into each limb and cell of our bodies. Love changes our brain, the way we move and talk. Love lives in our spirit and graces us with its presence each day, until death. To say “I love you, but….” is to say, “I did not love you at all”. I say this to you now: I love you, with no beginning, no end. I love you as you have become an extra necessary organ in my body. I love you as only a girl could love a boy. Without fear. Without expectations. Wanting nothing in return, except that you allow me to keep you here in my heart, that I may always know your strength, your eyes, and your spirit that gave me freedom and let me fly. ↗

— Coco J. Ginger

#breakups #friendship #i-love-him #i-love-you #jamie-weise

Between the daylight gambler and the player at night there is the same difference that lies between a careless husband and the lover swooning under his lady's window. ↗

— Honore de Balzac

#careless #daylight #difference #gambler #his