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Read through the most famous quotes by topic #romantic
I believed that I was approaching the end of my days without having tasted to the full any of the pleasures for which my heart thirsted...without having ever tasted that passion which, through lack of an object, was always suppressed. ...The impossibility of attaining the real persons precipitated me into the land of chimeras; and seeing nothing that existed worthy of my exalted feelings, I fostered them in an ideal world which my creative imagination soon peopled with beings after my own heart. ↗
Environmental historians have documented new mainstream environmentalism's wilderness and preservationist conceptions of the environment as a pristine green space devoid of people were derived from romantic and transcendentalist ideals and reflected class and racial biases." p28 in Noxious New York ↗
I stepped closer still. He closed his eyes again and covered my hand with his own. 'You smell of violets. You always smell of violets,' he said. 'You've no idea how many times I have walked these moors and smelled them and thought you were near. On and on I walked, following the scent of you, and you were never there. When I saw you in the hall tonight, I thought I had finally gone mad. ↗
Liza took her time sipping her tea. “That’s what I hear Janet. Of course, living it up can take years off your life and add them to your face. ↗
From Chloe's Secret--coming soon “What are you saying?” “I’m saying I want to have a relationship with you. I want to love you.” “Is there a ‘but’ coming next?” “But the funny thing is, when I didn’t want to love you—it happened anyway.” He slipped his arms into my back pockets and hugged the breath out of me. I choked, my eyes stung. “I don’t know what to say.” He smiled. “Say whatever you want to. Just because I said it, you don’t have to.” He was right; I didn’t have to. He wasn’t asking anything of me. ↗
You make velocity look good. ↗
#contemporary-romance #romance #romantic-suspense #suspense #romantic
The ferocity of her passion was what he'd been waiting for night after torturous night. He wanted her to hunger the way he hungered. To need like he needed. ↗
He wanted to paddle her himself, then shake her, then sit her down in a chair and explain to her why she must never, ever get herself in a situation where she could be shot at again—and then throw himself at her feet. ↗
I believe I am becoming pathetic. I'll go further, I believe that I am in love with a flower-growing, wood-carving quarryman/carpenter/pig farmer. In fact, I know I am. Perhaps tomorrow I will become entirely miserable at the thought that he doesn't love me back - may, even, care for Remy- but at this precise moment I am succumbing to euphoria. My head and stomach feel quite odd. ↗
#love
