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Love Story Quotes

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Love Story Quotes

“Pobre de mi madre, ella me trajo impecable a este mundo y cuidó de que no me diera pañalitis, que la varicela no dejara recuerdos, que en las piernas no me quedaran las marcas de las caídas o que el acné no dejara cicatrices. Así me entregó al mundo cuando pensó que era un adulto, que siguiendo su ejemplo me mantendría lejos de los peligros y que no sería igual de niñata de correr como cabra al precipicio. Pero nunca me advirtió de enamorarme, nunca mencionó que existía una herida que ni ella podría curar, solo el tiempo.”

LoveRomanceRomanticQuoteLove StoryLadykiller
Book:LadyKiller
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“pero a veces sencillamente lo sabes. Que esa persona no es cualquiera, que la piel no se te pone de gallina en vano, que el brillo en tus ojos y esa sonrisa estúpida y perpetua no la consigue el chico que te sirve el café en el Starbucks aunque lleva meses intentándolo. Sabes que hay algo especial porque en tu interior algo estalla y se renueva. Y ya no eres el mismo. Es así de místico e inevitable.”

LoveRomanceRomanticQuoteLove StoryLadykiller
Book:LadyKiller
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“Le golpeé el abdomen mientras me reía. —¿Por qué eres tan cruel? —Porque si te digo que todo estará bien, te estaría mintiendo. Es lo lógico que extrañes a alguien que quisiste tanto, con quien compartiste parte de tu vida y frente a quien te desnudaste y no me refiero solamente al cuerpo. Pero es la forma en la que tu cerebro procesa la ausencia, vas a estar triste, tendrás recuerdos, añoranzas, maldecirás y te mentirás para sentirte mejor. Debes vivirlo, dejarlo salir, gritar, llorar… sacarlo de ti. Pero, lo peor que puedes hacer es darle más importancia de la necesaria. No te encierres ni te aísles. Habla, con tus amigos, conmigo o con los gatos. —¿Quién eres? —Le puyé el brazo. —La respuesta a tu S.O.S. Tu rescatista. Vamos.”

LoveRomanceRomanticQuoteLove StoryLadykiller
Book:LadyKiller
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“—¿Qué quería? —dije tan fresca como pude. Pero sin mirarla, sin girarme. —Supongo que hablar contigo, justificarse el muy gilipollas —Grace lo odiaba y de su odio hay que cuidarse. Si quería vengarme de Marc solo debía asentir y ella lo entendería. En dos días los medios hablarían de cualquier cosa que lo desprestigiara y estaría acabado. No era la periodista de más peso, el periódico del que era editora era muy respetable. Pero ella no iba a exponerse, la chica tiene enchufe. Que lo diga yo que gracias a sus contactos trabajaba donde trabajaba. —Ya. ¿Qué le dijiste? —Que se largara si no quería que clavara el tacón de mis zapatos en sus elitistas y traicioneros huevos. Tragué saliva, casi me reí. Era capaz, de Grace me esperaba todo. —¿Qué zapatos tenías? —Unos Louboutin muy puntiagudos. Imaginar la escena me hizo gracia. Seguro que Marc le miró los zapatos primero. —Los únicos que tienes e ibas a perderlos así… —Nunca podrían haber sido mejor usados, te lo aseguro. —Imagino que tu amenaza lo mantendrá a raya —soné muy borde, no era mi intención. Tampoco la de retractarme. —No lo sé, pero Salo se encargó de darle un par de dolorosas razones para no volver. Aunque ya sabemos que el cabrón tiene más cara que espalda.”

LoveRomanceRomanticQuoteLove StoryLadykiller
Book:LadyKiller
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“—Te traje algo que te va a hacer alucinar. —No le entro a las drogas. —Fingí enfado y junté las cejas. —Nunca dejas de estar a la defensiva. —Culpa a tu amigo que me enseñó a estar siempre “en guardia”. —Prueba esto y terminarás amándome. —Ten cuidado con lo que deseas, chato. Porque soy de las que lleva el amor a los extremos. —Una chica intensa y peligrosa. —Ya ves que me paso la vida entre el nunca y el siempre.”

LoveRomanceRomanticQuoteLove StoryLadykiller
Book:LadyKiller
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“No me podía engañar, no cuando apenas si lo nombraba con Marcelo porque necesitaba decir su nombre, volver a acariciarlo en mis labios. Sentir que aún me quedaba algún derecho a sentir mío lo nuestro solo con hablar de lo que fue nuestra relación. Algún día dejaría de hacerlo, algún día dejaría de hablar de él cuando nadie me escuchaba. Solo era un ítem más a mi lista de tareas. Todos estamos llenos de olvidos pendientes.”

LoveRomanceRomanticQuoteLove StoryLadykiller
Book:LadyKiller
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“ACTS OF LOVE Love is not a word Or a thought. It is the name for An action That breathes from its light. What do you DO In Love's name? And is it only done Outside In the light? Or with an inner Flame Illuminating Love's TRUE Name? I want to know. Are your actions Done by remote Or with SOUL? And when you say You love someone, Does a light go off Inside at all? What have YOU Done In the Name of LOVE? Because, Really, I want to know.”

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Book:Rise Up and Salute the Sun: The Writings of Suzy Kassem
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“He firmly pulled her body against his and he brushed her lips with his. Staring into her eyes, he lightly slid his tongue across her bottom lip. She drew a deep, staggered breath in response to the wave of heat she felt flushing through her. Derrick smiled at her. Then, he softly kissed her. He lightly swept his tongue between her lips, pressing his warm, soft lips to hers. He slid his hands up her body and cradled her face with his hands. Then, he passionately kissed her, tickling her tongue with his. He sucked her lips, gently, as though he was sampling nectar on a delicate petal. Then, with an intense urgency, he dipped his tongue past her lips, caressing her tongue with his. She felt fluttering inside. Anne’s body craved him. A shallow hum escaped from within her in response to how he was making her feel. She could feel his body responding to her. He was breathing heavier which was waking Anne’s primal needs. The tidal wave of lust that had just churned within her was slowly calming as his kiss became more subtle and tender. He gently pressed his lips against hers. He pulled back a little and looked away, exhaling.”

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Book:Lock Creek: One Year's Time
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“You know what?” he whispered, out of breath, “You’re about to be in a whole lot of trouble. We probably better go.”

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Book:Lock Creek: One Year's Time
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“ERIC: What are you always writin' in that book anyway? RODNEY: Poetry. TYRONE: Poetry? Rodney stops sketching and sentimentally flips through a few dozen pages of sketches and handwritten poems and notes. RODNEY: Poetry and pictures. Snapshots of our lives developed in the darkrooms of our souls." From CENTRAL PARK SONG -- a screenplay”

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Book:Stories and Scripts: an Anthology
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“I’ve never had a reason to survive—no reason to question the way things were. I lived because I was told to…now I live because I want to. I survive because I want to know what is outside the deception we’re buried in, and I want to experience it with you. You’re the only person I’ve ever trusted, and now you’re the reason I’m going to fight. I don’t know how we’re going to make it out of here, but we’ll find a way. We’ll find a better life.”

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Book:In Between Seasons
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“You are a bright light, Elli.’ His own breath hitches, a sound that I cannot quite grasp. His eyes are darkening, his lips tightening. His hands grasp me tighter and he moves closer, his mouth inches from mine, I can almost taste the sweetness and saltiness of his scent, the rich coffee beans and sugar, the vague spearmint. I say nothing, I’m not even sure I’m breathing. ‘You shouldn’t have to see such pain, such blackness. You are too pure.’ His lips do not collide with mine, his skin does not brush against me, only his voice sends a shiver down every notch in my spine, trailing goose bumps over my skin. He tilts his head to the side, his lips gently brushing against my ear. And that is all. I’m not good enough for him. I’m not. That’s why… that’s why… ‘Too pure…”

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Book:Grey October
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“I want to get to know you a little better.’ His hand touches mine, the briefest of touches but I still recoil my hand into the sleeve of my cardigan. His touch is blisteringly hot, I’m sure earlier today when he cupped my cheek I had burn marks. But no, it is just him, just his touch, it sends crazy little shivers throughout my entirety. ‘I don’t understand you… you said you want what you cannot have. Isn’t this a form of torture?’ ‘Does a person who wishes to lose weight not taunt themselves with sweets? Does a person not go by the same window every day, just to glimpse the piece of jewellery they long for, yet can never attain? We torment ourselves every day with things we cannot have. Perhaps it is torture, but perhaps my request is genuine.”

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Book:Grey October
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