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Affectionate Quotes

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Affectionate Quotes

“Let us remember to always rediscover one another because we are forever changing.”

“All I need to do is place my pen against paper and your love writes for me.”

“Love, they said, burns you and builds you. But with you, there’s no ash. Just light.”

“What is this love that makes me see beauty, and makes every beautiful thing bring you back to me? What is this love that makes me declare 'I love you' even though I uttered it only a moment ago? What is this love that keeps growing even when my chest is sore and it hurts to love you any more? Tell me: How am I to find what this love is when it was the one to find you, me, this verse, and this universe?”

“Like a pair of old slippers, I feel comfort and warmth as I slip into you. No, that is too crude. Like the match to the wick, I ignite when we touch. My counterpart and life's purpose. Yes, as though I've known you my whole life. Every scar, every failure has become an affirmation of what should be: You. Yes, as though I've loved you my whole life.”

“My eyes hurt," she said plaintively, as he surveyed the stacks of books they hadn't read yet. "Then by all means, we will save your eyes for a bit," Peri said, with a chuckle that rumbled inside his chest. He put his head down along his folded forelegs and looked up at her with an amused expression. "What are you thinking about?" he asked. "That I've never known anyone it was easier to be- friends with," she said, hesitating a moment over the "friend" part. Because it felt as if their relationship was unfolding into something a great deal warmer than mere friendship. "It's odd, isn't it?" he responded. "Except for my brother, I've never been as comfortable around any dragon as I am around you. I don't quite know how to fathom it." "Then let's not," she said instantly, not wanting to spoil anything. "All right?" He laughed. "One can certainly analyze things until they are no longer enjoyable. I bow to your wisdom. I am just happy to enjoy your company." She felt warm and tingly in a pleasant sort of way as he looked down at her with those glowing dark-emerald eyes. Feeling greatly daring, she reached out and scratched the soft skin under his chin. He sighed. "Oh, glory. That feels lovely. Don't stop doing that for the next thirty years or so. Take more time if you need it." She laughed, but kept scratching. "I wish there was something I could do for you that felt as good," he said, in a voice rich with content. "You already are," she said. "You're very comfortable to sit on." He laughed again, this time with a note of self-mockery. "I shall be sure to add that to my list of virtues. 'Makes a comfortable chair.' I am sure the Great Dragon at the gates of Paradise will find that ample reason to let me in straightaway. And the rest of my clan will surely inscribe it on my memorial wall." She blinked. "Dragons believe in Paradise?" she said, surprised. "Of course they do, silly goose," Peri replied, with another affectionate brush on his nose on her shoulder.”

“Emotions don’t interfere in my acting, nor in my life.”

“I don't care a whit for Society. I think people should only marry someone who can offer them some bit of affection. I am not so naive that I believe in the sort of romantic love and devotion that Miss Austen touts." Though what August had found with the duke seemed very close to that sort of love, and if she was honest, she actually wouldn't mind very much if she found that for herself. But that was far too complicated a subject to discuss with Lord Leigh, a man she should not be talking to at all, much less going on and on like she was. "But there should be some sort of mutual respect and consideration." "Affection is important to you." His gaze dropped down to her mouth. She licked her lips and then pressed them together to stifle the nervous tick. "Affection is important to everyone. People are much happier when they are in family units where they are supported and valued. It has been proven to be true." He grinned, an attractive dimple forming in his left cheek. "You are a bluestocking like your sister." "I read for information as well as entertainment if that's what you mean." She was aware of the way her shoulders stiffened and her voice hardened, but seemed to be able to do nothing to control her reaction to him. Bluestocking held all sorts of negative connotations. She knew she wasn't worldly enough to have someone like him return the depth of her attraction, but she wouldn't have him believing her interest in knowledge to be a mark against her. His grin stayed in place. "That is exactly what I mean, Miss Crenshaw. It is a trait I admire in anyone, especially a woman who courts scandal by the very admission.”

“My mother, who hated what she called his Americanisms, ended up calling him Il cauboi—the cowboy. It started as a putdown and soon enough became an endearment, to go along with her other nickname for him, conferred during his first week, when he came down to the dinner table after showering, his glistening hair combed back. La star, she had said, short for la muvi star.”

“DIANA: You never appreciate me, even when I’m being nice! MARY: It was nice of you to defend me like that, Diana. I did appreciate it, you know. I do appreciate it, even now. DIANA: Well, you’re my sister. I mean, you’re annoying, and you have a stick up your—Catherine doesn’t want me to say that word anymore—but you’re still my sister. MRS. POOLE: That may be the most affectionate thing I’ve heard you say, Miss Scamp. DIANA: Go back to your kitchen, you old (unprintable).”

“The mare's ears flicked forward in interest. "Aren't you lovely?" Elspeth crooned to her. "I'm sorry I didn't think to bring you a treat. That was quite remiss of me." Plum had stopped by her feet, but now he ventured close to the horse. Elspeth watched. Octavia could hurt the dog should she wish. The mare merely lowered her head, snuffling curiously at Plum. Plum licked her nose. Octavia jerked her head back but then lowered it to blow at the dog and then shake her head as if in horsey laughter. Plum immediately went into a play bow--- the first that Elspeth had seen him make. She laughed. "Silly. How do you expect Octavia to play with you? She'd run right over if let loose." Julian sighed from the stall, and Elspeth glanced over to see him leaning on the pitchfork, watching her. "Octavia has never been as serious as her name," he said. "And she likes dogs." "Does she?" Elspeth asked in delight. Plum was now darting forward at the horse's legs, pretending to attack before retreating just as swiftly. Octavia watched bemusedly before stamping her hoof at the next attack, sending the dog into spins of excitement. Elspeth knit her brow, concerned that the horse would accidentally stomp on the dog, but Julian reassured her. "You needn't worry. Octavia knows to be gentle.”

“BLACK AND WHITE Oh Princess of the Sun. Daughter of nature. Love of the trees. Your eyes are with tears but love only flows through its canal You who defeated death with a kiss and old age was given as a crown. You walk in the streets of fate with hope as a sceptre. Olawaremilekun, the goodness that expresses grace. Your beauty still marvels the sons of men. Poem by Victor Vote for Princess Abisoye Oluwaremilekun Atinuadewa ©️2021 by VVF”

“Why didn't you write all this time? Did you not remember us in a song? A dance? In the skies littered with stars? Did you not get drunk? Why didn’t you write all this time? Did you not remember us in a film? A book? In idyllic dusks and dawns? Did you not get high? It is good that you didn't. For all is well. I am drunk and dazed. I have already forgotten you and your bewitching ways.”

“Like a child who saves their favourite food on the plate for last, I try to save all thoughts of you for the end of the day so I can dream with the taste of you on my tongue.”

“I can sense your love, why leave me in darkness? Beguile me for your amusement, stealing my soul without kisses. You are the sun and I, the moon. Your beauty is reflected in my eyes. When we are apart, I am extinguished in the blackness of these skies.”

“Real art, like the wife of an affectionate husband, needs no ornaments. But counterfeit art, like a prostitute, must always be decked out. The cause of production of real art is the artist's inner need to express a feeling that has accumulated...The cause of counterfeit art, as of prostitution, is gain. The consequence of true art is the introduction of a new feeling into the intercourse of life... The consequences of counterfeit art are the perversion of man, pleasure which never satisfies, and the weakening of man's spiritual strength.”

“I feel that a genuine, affectionate smile is very important in our day-to-day lives. How one creates that smile largely depends on one's own attitude. It is illogical to expect smiles from others if one does not smile oneself. Therefore, one can see that many things depend on one's own behaviour.”

“Would I describe a preacher, I would express him simple, grave, sincere; In doctrine uncorrupt; in language plain, And plain in manner; decent, solemn, chaste, And natural in gesture; much impress'd Himself, as conscious of his awful charge, And anxious mainly that the flock he feeds May feel it too; affectionate in look, And tender in address, as well becomes A messenger of grace to guilty men.”

“Children need directing and teaching what is right in a kind, affectionate manner How often we see parents demand obedience, good behavior, kind words, pleasant looks, a sweet voice and a bright eye from a child or children when they themselves are full of bitterness and scolding! How inconsistent and unreasonable this is!”

“Men who are sincere in defending their freedom, will always feel concern at every circumstance which seems to make against them; it is the natural and honest consequence of all affectionate attachments, and the want of it is a vice. But the dejection lasts only for a moment; they soon rise out of it with additional vigor; the glow of hope, courage and fortitude, will, in a little time, supply the place of every inferior passion, and kindle the whole heart into heroism.”

“The desire to give advice is itself a symptom of disapproval; and further, it is usually the result of a desire to express that disapproval. And we are most moved to give advice to those for whom our affection and regard may be taken for granted, but to whom we would rather express our disapproval. We cannot go to them and say that we disapprove of them. That would not be affectionate, and might lead to reprisals. But we can give them advice in which the disapproval is implied and which yet seems innocently helpful.”

“Royal relationships across the generations have often been strained and distant, rather than close and affectionate. Most eldest sons, interminably waiting to become king, have not been on the best of terms with the sovereign to whose death they look forward with a debilitating combination of guilt-ridden anxiety and eager anticipation. And younger sons (and daughters, too) have often found their lives empty of purpose: cut off by their royal statius, but unable to find anything rewarding with which to fill the time.”