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Read through the most famous quotes by topic #romance
Stumbling closer, I held up the manuscript, the pages flapping frantically in the wind. “I take it this is a murder mystery? You killed the ex-fiancée and thanked her in the dedication? Mighty dignified of you, I must say.” “Nah. It’s a horror novel. But yeah, the bimbo dies in the end. Bob Hall says it’s going to be a bestseller, so I figured I owed her some thanks for the inspiration.” He edged a few feet closer, his smile spread from ear to ear. The glimmer in his eyes flickered toward the ocean, breaking our connection. He hung his head, licked his lips, then returned his eyes to mine, restoring the connection with an intense smolder. “Are you gonna get over here, or what?” Letting out a soft chuckle, the tears began to blind me. “Make me. ↗
You get up every morning then life happens to you. You just have to have the right stuff to get through it. ↗
Ik riep: “Doornroosje! Je bent ternauwernood meer van belang! Ternauwernood… Nog net wel. Nog niet helemaal niet. “Ik houd ternauwernood oneindig veel pijnlijk nauwgezet en desalniettemin niet voor herhaling vatbaar nog net wel van jou”, zei ik. En niet lang daarna: “Ik houd ternauwernood oneindig veel op zijn minst overdadig en onomkeerbaar pijnlijk nauwgezet bijna achteloos en desalniettemin niet voor herhaling vatbaar nog net wel van jou.” “Van wie?” (riepen de denkbeeldige meeuwen) “Van wie? Van wie?” “Van Doornroosje”, zei ik, buiten adem. ↗
Oh, they'll never believe a woman could solve such puzzles. They'll just assume I'm humoring you by editing it myself and allowing you to put your name to it." She raised her eyebrows. "But you wouldn't be." He humphed. "They'll never hear me admit it." "I will," she said, a smile curving her lips. He shrugged. "They'll believe me, not you. ↗
...he couldn't help but wonder what Hannah might have looked like if...he'd answered that question April had asked him years ago. ↗
He understood now why she was so much calmer, so much happier when he held her hand while they walked. When he first did that, she had looked at their linked fingers quizzically, but didn't pull away, even though she had been as skittish as a stray cat. limit. ↗
Bram stared into a pair of wide, dark eyes. Eyes that reflected a surprising glimmer of intelligence. This might be the rare female a man could reason with. "Now, then," he said. "We can do this the easy way, or we can make things difficult." With a soft snort, she turned her head. It was as if he'd ceased to exist. Bram shifted his weight to his good leg, feeling the stab to his pride. He was a lieutenant colonel in the British army, and at over six feet tall, he was said to cut an imposing figure. Typically, a pointed glance from his quarter would quell the slightest hint of disobedience. He was not accustomed to being ignored. "Listen sharp, now." He gave her ear a rough tweak and sank his voice to a low threat. "If you know what's good for you, you'll do as I say." Though she spoke not a word, her reply was clear: You can kiss my great wolly arse. Confounded sheep. ↗
A near half hour passed as Salvatore weaved his way through the winding tunnel, his steps slowing as he tilted back his head to sniff the air. The scent of cur was still strong, but he was beginning to pick up the distant scent of other curs, and…pure-blood. Female pureblood. Coming to a sharp halt, Salvatore savored the rich vanilla aroma that filled his senses. He loved the smell of women. Hell, he loved women. But this was different. It was intoxicating. “Cristo,” he breathed, his blood racing, an odd tightness coiling through his body, slowly draining his strength. Almost as if… No. It wasn’t possible. There hadn’t been a true Were mating for centuries. “Curs,” Levet said, moving to his side. “And a female pureblood.” “Si,” Salvatore muttered, distracted. “You think it’s a trap?” Salvatore swallowed a grim laugh. Hell, he hoped it was a trap. The alternative was enough to send any intelligent Were howling into the night. “There’s only one way to find out.” He moved forward, sensing the end of the tunnel just yards in front of him. “Salvatore?” Levet tugged on his pants. Salvatore shook him off. “What?” “You smell funny. Mon Dieu, are you…” With blinding speed, Salvatore grasped the gargoyle by one stunted horn and yanked him off his feet to glare into his ugly face. Until that moment, he hadn’t noticed the musky scent that clung to his skin. Merda. “One more word and you lose that tongue,” he snarled. “But…” “Do not screw with me.” “I do not intend to screw with anyone.” The gargoyle curled his lips in a mocking smile. “I am not the one in heat. ↗
I no longer believed in the idea of soul mates, or love at first sight. But I was beginning to believe that a very few times in your life, if you were lucky, you might meet someone who was exactly right for you. Not because he was perfect, or because you were, but because your combined flaws were arranged in a way that allowed two separate beings to hinge together. ↗
