When it comes to men who are romantically interested in you, it’s really simple. Just ignore everything they say and only pay attention to what they do.
Romance is thinking about your significant other, when you are supposed to be thinking about something else.
She wanted something else, something different, something more. Passion and romance, perhaps, or maybe quiet conversations in candlelit rooms, or perhaps something as simple as not being second.
In our time together, you claimed a special place in my heart, one I'll carry with me forever and that no one can ever replace.
Sometimes you wake up from a dream. Sometimes you wake up in a dream. And sometimes, every once in a while, you wake up in someone else's dream.
Moments, when lost, can't be found again. They're just gone.
Have I told you how hideous you look tonight? Cardan asks, leaning back in the elaborately carved chair, the warmth of his words turning the question into something like a compliment. No I say, glad to be annoyed back into the present. Tell me. I can't.
thus with a kiss I die
My only love sprung from my only hate! Too early seen unknown, and known too late! Prodigious birth of love it is to me, That I must love a loathed enemy.
You’re dangerous, he says. Why? Because you make me believe in the impossible
Sometimes I wonder if there's something wrong with me. Perhaps I've spent too long in the company of my literary romantic heroes, and consequently my ideals and expectations are far too high.
The Very first moment I beheld him, my heart was irrevocably gone.
When one is in love, one always begins by deceiving one's self, and one always ends by deceiving others. That is what the world calls a romance.
You could have fooled me. Everytime I called you, Luke said you were sick. I figured you were avoiding me. Again. I wasn't. I did want to talk to you. I've been thinking about you all the time. I've been thinking about you, too. I really was sick. I swear. I almost died back there on the ship, you know. I know. Everytime you almost die, I almost die myself.
My soul will find yours.
I knew, in the silence that followed, that anything could happen here. It might be too late: again, I might have missed my chance. But I would at least know I tried, that I took my heart and extended my hand, whatever the outcome. Okay, he said. He took a breath. What would you do, if you could do anything? I took a step toward him, closing the space between us. This, I said. And then I kissed him.
I'm not sentimental--I'm as romantic as you are. The idea, you know, is that the sentimental person thinks things will last--the romantic person has a desperate confidence that they won't.
And he took her in his arms and kissed her under the sunlit sky, and he cared not that they stood high upon the walls in the sight of many.
I stood still, vision blurring, and in that moment, I heard my heart break. It was a small, clean sound, like the snapping of a flower's stem.
Every great love starts with a great story...