#om

I know the rules. I've been living here longer than you have." He cracks a smile then. He nudges me back. "Hardly." "Born and raised. You're a transplant." I nudge him again, a little harder, and he laughs and tries to catch hold of my arm. I squirm away, giggling, and he stretches out to tickle my stomach. "Country bumpkin!" I squeal, as he grabs out and wrestles me back onto the blanket, laughing. "City slicker," he says, rolling over on top of me, and then kisses me. Everything dissolves: heat, explosions of color, floating. ↗

— Lauren Oliver

#delirium #lauren-oliver #lena #love #romance

Look for the heart in a man before you look at what he has. ↗

— Jonathan Anthony Burkett

#man #relationships #woman #love

There's always be a me and you. ↗

— James Patterson

#romance #love

Much of what we called "depression" was really dissatisfaction, a result of setting a bar impossibly high or expecting treasures we weren't willing to work for. ↗

— Mitch Albom

#faith #happiness #mitch-albom #satisfaction #faith

My words are the kisses but many of the times they don't taste so good as the touch of your lips does to mine. ↗

— Santosh Kalwar

#romance #love

Neither of us says the word love, not once. It would be tempting fate; it would be romance, bad luck. ↗

— Margaret Atwood

#romance #love

You are it for me. But the me that knelt in front of you that night and the me that is standing in front of you right now is not the same me that's out there in the spotlight." He thumped his hand over his heart. "They only get the outside, not the inside. That's for you. ↗

— Tina Reber

#love

You think my first instinct is to protect you. Because you're small, or a girl, or a Stiff. But you're wrong." He leans his face close to mine and wraps his fingers around my chin. His hand smells like metal. When was the last time he held a gun, or a knife? My skin tingles at the point of contact, like he's transmitting electricity through his skin. "My first instinct is to push you until you break, just to see how hard I have to press." he says, his fingers squeezing at the word break. My body tenses at the edge in his voice, so I am coiled as tight as a spring, and I forget to breathe. ↗

— Veronica Roth

#love

Strangers when you meet, strangers when you part -a gymnasium of bodies namelessly masturbating each other. People with no morals often considered themselves more free, but mostly they lacked the ability to feel or to love. So they became swingers. The dead fucking the dead. There was no gamble or humor in their game -it was corpse fucking corpse. Morals were restrictive, but they were grounded on human experience down through the centuries. Some morals tended to keep people slaves in factories, in churches and true to the State. Other morals simply made good sense. It was like a garden filled with poisoned fruit and good fruit. You had to know which to pick and eat, which to leave alone. ↗

— Charles Bukowski

#promiscuity #sex #experience

It was like he’d just discovered fire, and she was the main ingredient. ↗

— Debra Anastasia

#love #poughkeepsie #love