In the morning, that moment, when I knew it was you. When I could feel you breathing and we opened our eyes at the exact same time.
To me, you were more than just a person. You were a place where I finally felt at home.
You've obviously never been in love.I have actually. And . And—always—without hope—I've never had my love reciprocated ever.
My heart! Ohhh my poor heartIts bruised...its scarred and its full of pain.... But its still in love with you!
Love is a rare and precious thing. Squander it at your peril.
Therefore, have done with this nonsense: you have no ground for hope: dismiss, at once, these hurtful thoughts and foolish wishes from your mind, and turn to your own duty, and the dull blank life tha...
He's charmed by her as if she were some fairy! continued Arabella. See how he looks round at her, and lets his eyes rest on her. I am inclined to think that she don't care for him quite so much as he...
For when a woman resists an unwelcome passion, she is obeying to the full the law of her sex; the initial gesture of refusal is, so to speak, a primordial instinct in every female, and even if she rej...
For the first time she had dimly realized that only the hopeless are starkly sincere and that only the unhappy can either give or take sympathy--even some of the bitter and dangerous voluptuousness of...
PASSIONS are likened best to floods and streams: The shallow murmur, but the deep are dumb;
Susan had pointed out that everyone has their love story. Even if it was a fiasco, even if it fizzled out, never got going, had all been in the mind to begin with: that didn't make it any the less rea...
Graham’s thoughts of me were not entirely those of a frozen indifference, after all. I believe in that goodly mansion, his heart, he kept one little place under the skylights where Lucy might have ent...
Your dress is thin, you have been dancing, you are heated. Always preaching, retorted she; always coddling and admonishing. The answer Dr. John would have given did not come; that his heart was hurt b...
Why weren't we born in the same era?" he lamented. She eased past him neither here nor there, looked over her shoulder and whispered, "How mundane and cliche would that be?
Granted, I'd waited a long time to hear those words. Would've sold a kidney-maybe two-to have heard them at one point. Now, though...they didn't have the same impact. They were, in fact, an overcooked...
...and said with the softness of repressed violence, 'I am not one to stick his neck out; it is a bit of a reach. I was waiting for the smallest sign that you could love me... I never got it.
But he knew she was a star, and he, only human. He was never meant to reach the stars - he could only admire them from afar.
You think being dead inside is bad until someone brings you back to life and stabs you in the chest without the intention of killing you.
If I said I was madly in love with you you'd know I was lying.
I crave for love, everybody does . . . and I've never had a bloody crumb of it—and I've given so much love to people—I can really love people, I can, I let them walk over me—but nobody's ever loved me...