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In Love Quotes

Browse 331 quotes about In Love.

In Love Quotes

“I watch him start to undress me. The ground moves my feet, but it’s my knees that are shaking. The temperature in the room goes up a few degrees. My breathing quickens. I watch his fingers pick at my tank top. Nicholas slides one hand underneath. He runs his fingers over my torso, presses them against my stomach. They move up and down with each one of my breaths.”

“There are all kinds of ways to make love. If it's good, that's what you need. But going back to your Gary. You cling to him because he made you feel grounded. Everything around you was so different and you didn't know how to handle it. I think you do love him, Gabrielle, but I don't think you're in love with him. If you were in love with him, you wouldn't feel as if all your loyalty should belong to Aleksei.”

“He leans me back against his chest and we are both in complete and utter bliss, but me especially, because the wind and snow outside are unbearably cold. In fact, I called Alex on the way over to moan that I was freezing to death. And now here he is, warming me up with his body and the hot water, his arms wrapped around me. I feel like I’m in an invincible, impregnable wigwam of tenderness and affection. I am at peace, I am in ecstasy, I am in pleasure, I am in healing, I am in purging, I am in love...”

“I have no use for these other loves. Seal them shut in jars and place them in the pantry. A reserve of love. Thank them for their love. They are so kind. Perhaps store them in the fridge For others to take. They say love is a panacea. I know it is not. Flakes of snow, no two are alike. When I am down on my knees, hopeless and angry, for the world no longer makes sense, I won't look in the pantry or fridge. It is your hand pressing on my shoulder that makes me whole, makes me forget. What trouble? What world?”

“I am in love with your sleepy voice and crooked smile. I am in love with your passion, for me and for life. I am in love with your wisdom, gained from what has been lost and what is to come. I am in love with the soft curls of your hair and dark hazel eyes. I am in love with your sensitivity, your drive to always do better and be better. I am in love with how you take me for who I am. I am in love with your romantic side and with your serious side. I am in love with the comfort you emit, your ability to be my home when you're a thousand miles away. I am in love with how you look at me. I am in love with your motivation and your support for my silly dreams. I am in love with your accessibility, my shoulder to cry on, my protector at three a.m. when I have nowhere else to turn. And I am in love with the way you love me.”

“In all the days that followed, I sometimes felt like I was dreaming. All my life, I had known I would marry the Gentle Lord, and all my life, I had expected it to be a horror and a doom. I had never thought that I would know love at all, much less in his arms. Now that every hour was a delight, I couldn't quite believe it was real. We still looked for an answer. We still hunted through the library and prowled the corridors. But it seemed less like a quest and more like a game. And we played in that house. We chased each other through the rose garden, hiding and seeking in turns; we built castles in a room full of sand; I made him sit in the kitchen while I tried to cook for him and set the pans on fire. And I was his delight and he was mine. I had read love poems when studying the ancient tongues, though I had never sought them out like Astraia; I had learnt the rhythm of the words and phrases, but I had always thought them empty decorations. They said that love was terrifying and tender, wild and sweet, and none of it made any sense. But now I knew that every mad word was true. For Ignifex was still himself, still mocking and wild and inhuman, terrible as a legion arrayed for war; but in my arms he became gentle, and his kisses were sweeter than wine.”

“I never knew the difference between loving someone and being in love,” he began. “I don’t know why, because now it seems so obvious. I mean, it’s in the name: in love. When you love someone that just means you care; but when you’re in love, that means you’re a part of it.” He scanned the audience and landed on Paxton and Jade holding hands in the third row. “The feeling consumes you,” he continued. “And when you’re surrounded by that want and that need to make that other person happy, you can’t see anything else. You’re blind to all of the hate and the hurt that’s waiting on the outside. None of it matters, because in here – in love – nothing hurts.” Larson watched as a drop of his own tears fell onto the surface in front of him. “I don’t care if I’m blind for the rest of my life. I loved Owen. I’m in love with him. And even though he’s gone, I’ll never leave this place we made.”

“My love, you are driving the entire world mad. The nightingales are committing suicide one by one out of jealousy of your voice. The roses took one glance at your beauty and folded themselves from shame. The trees now only whisper your name and the sky hasn’t stopped crying since you looked up. Have pity on us, my love. We have already broken all the mirrors and glass out of fear that you will forget us and fall in love with yourself once you see what we all cannot stop seeing.”

“And so, in silence, we walked the surface of a dying world, but in the breast of one of us at least had been born that which is ever oldest, yet ever new. I loved Dejah Thoris. The touch of my arm upon her naked shoulder had spoken to me in words I would not mistake, and I knew that I had loved her since the first moment my eyes had met hers that first time in the plaza of the dead city of Korad.”

“Claire's memory flashed to their wedding day, to her vibrant happiness. To Kirk's loving hand around her, steadying her as they stood in front of the church full of people. To her, that day had beenperfect, despite the rain, the mix-up about flowers, her father's rambling speech. She and Kirk had been in love. They truly had. And now he'd fallen in love with someone else. Their marriage had ended after just twelve years. The ramifications crashed through her mind. She was going to be on her own, raising three children. Would she have to go back to work? Put the girls in after-school care? Then in seven months… Oh, God. What was she going to do?”

“She had no desire to see Conall dead. She loved him. That was a thought that caught her by surprise. Claray had liked Conall from the start, admired his sense of honor and determination to look after his people. She also appreciated all he had done for her, rescuing her from Kerr, carrying her before him on his mount while she slept, no matter that he was exhausted. He'd also been most patient with her rescuing animals at every turn on the way home to MacFarlane when she'd known he hadn't wanted her to. He was a good man----he worked day and night here to build a home for them all, and he'd tended to her when she was injured and ill with such gentleness and kindness. And then there was his loving. Aye, at first Claray had worried that her soul might be in peril because of the pleasure he gave her, but she'd come to terms with that. It was just too beautiful and intimate to be something God would begrudge them. Surely, if He hadn't wanted them to enjoy each other like that, He wouldn't have made it possible for people to enjoy it as they did. At least that was her reasoning. Perhaps it was just a justification to allow her to continue to enjoy her marital bed without guilt, but since she found it impossible not to, she was happy to accept that justification. Whatever the case, with all that she admired, respected and enjoyed about her husband, Claray supposed it would be surprising if she did not love him. Conall was a man worth loving, and she simply could not bear the thought of this man ending his life.”