Quotessence
Home / Topics / Romance Book Quotes Quotes

Romance Book Quotes Quotes

Browse 755 quotes about Romance Book Quotes.

Romance Book Quotes Quotes

“[...] but back in grad school Annie told me that there are three types of attractive men. I don’t know if she came up with this taxonomy herself, if Aphrodite announced it to her in a dream, or if she stole it from Teen Vogue, but here they are: There is the cute type, which consists of guys who are attractive in a nonthreatening, accessible way, as a combination of their nice looks and captivating personalities. Tim falls into this group, just like Guy and most male scientists—including, I suspect, Pierre Curie. Come to think of it, all the guys who ever hit on me do, perhaps because I’m small, and dress quirky, and try to be friendly. If I were a dude, I’d be a Cute Guy™; Cute Guys™ recognize that at some elemental level, and they make passes at me. Then there’s the handsome type. According to Annie, this category is a bit of a waste. The Handsome Guy™ has the kind of face you see in movie trailers and perfume ads, geometrically perfect and objectively amazing, but there’s something inaccessible about him. Those guys are so dreamy, they’re almost abstract. They need something to anchor them to reality—a personality quirk, a flaw, a circumscribed interest—otherwise they’ll float away in a bubble of boredom. Of course, society doesn’t exactly encourage Handsome Guys™ to develop brilliant personalities, so I tend to concur with Annie: they’re useless. Last but not least, the Sexy Guys™. Annie would go on and on about how Levi is the epitome of the Sexy Guy™, but I’d like to formally object. In fact, I don’t even acknowledge the existence of this category. It’s preposterous, the idea that there are men you can’t help yourself from being attracted to. Men who give you the tingles, men you can’t stop thinking about, men who pop up in your brain like flashes of light after stimulation of the occipital cortex. Men who are physical, elemental, primordial. Masculine. Present. Solid. Sounds fake, right?”

“You know, there’s something I wish I could comprehend about pets and other animals: if they can’t form any speeches, then how does their thinking process work? I mean, when we humans think about anything, we do form sentences in our heads… right? So, if animals are unable to form any sentences at all, then how are they able to compose any thoughts in their heads?”

“I may have been able to keep myself distracted the last eight years, but the second my eyes locked with hers tonight, I was reminded of a truth I’d forgotten— she may not always be mine, but I will always be hers. It’s been 2,942 days since we last kissed, and I’ve belonged to her for all of them.”

“I always thought 'love at first sight' was silly and incredibly irresponsible. Then, you came along and you flipped it on me. I understand it now. I do! ~Sheriff Derrick Decker”

“They were wandering around for about half an hour; then they crawled along the river bank, trembling both because of fear and the cold wind which blew stronger at night. It seemed like the rustling reeds were whispering, trying to say something… which seemed even scarier. Emily began silently—just in her thoughts—talking to the heavens asking for help, as she normally did in situations like that.”

“Para bien o para mal, tal vez esto era lo único que yo necesitaba después de todo: un cierre actuado para nuestro muy real final. Algo un poco más dulce que lo amargo que sentí hace años, cuando pareció que durante veinte días de octubre había encontrado a mi alma gemela justo antes de dejar de hablarle para siempre.”

“Ella watched as he dismounted that bike, pretty sure those jeans had been painted on. Dear Lord that was a delicious hind view. "Stop it, you’re not supposed to objectify new people." She knew it was a man because that black t-shirt showcased tanned skin and work earned muscles. He had turned around, his profile to her, and she watched that helmet come off, sunlight bouncing off the visor briefly. "I’m gonna objectify the shit out of that." Ella would freely admit she was a jackhole.”

“His hair was a dark gold and worn long enough to reach his chin. It had been pulled back into a tight queue for riding and bound with a leather strip, but the wind had pulled it loose and now it flew around his face. Perhaps on another man, the style might have been unflattering. But on Linden Chevalier it only added something more alluring to his presence, and as he lifted a black-gloved hand to push it back, the set of his jaw and twist of his mouth made him look sharp and wicked.”

“«Ti causo così tanto ribrezzo da non poter sopportare la mia mano su di te per una stupida foto?» I miei occhi si aprono di scatto e si puntano sulla figura che si è appena chiusa la porta alle spalle. «Tu mi causi solo una cosa, Trevor» trovo il coraggio di pronunciare ad alta voce il suo nome mentre sposto lo sguardo sulla parete dietro di lui. «Dolore.»”

“And, thus we went out. We talked. Briefly. Intensely. Being as open as we could. Judging as little as possible. For an hour or less. Every day or every alternate day. Over the last month or so. We talked till we parted. Initially, we found our time too short and childishly expressed that we would look forward to our next chat. Then we saw the value of speaking face-to-face, in a city that hardly spoke. We cherished our little time. Our conversations grew deeper. We set them free. And returning home felt less shackling. We shared nothing more. An accidental touch of fingers, or a wrist held while crossing the road, or an arm around the shoulder, rather barely above it, scraping the thin air. But we didn’t hold hands. We didn’t hug. We hadn’t so far. Though we both wanted it. So badly.”

“I'm filled with that buzz that finishing a good book gives you. You know the one. When all you want to do is savor the words that just changed your life, even if for just a moment. When you're still high from experiencing every up and down the characters went through. Feeling as though you were right there with them, seated front row, hands in the air as you take that first plunge down to the final dip of the roller coaster they call life.”

“I love the way she laughs when she squishes a tide-pod, especially that one time it burst, and she couldn’t stop apologizing. I love her clinical obsession with every shade of pink and how incredible she looks in it. I love the glow of her skin in the morning, as if the sun recognizes her as equal. I love how her smile is too big for her face, how her cheeks flush pink when I compliment her, and how her pupils grow in her eyes when we speak. I love the sound of her voice, silvery and sunny, especially when she shares stories of her childhood or asks me about mine. I love her ambitions, her passions, her dedication, and devotion to her craft.” I steal in a breath when beads of tears appear at her waterline. “I love everything she fails to love about herself.”

“What’s on your mind?” “You.” I sigh a smile. “Who’s on your mind?” “Always you.” Now I chuckle. “Where’s your mind?” “Wherever you are.” “When is your mind?” I pull back, knowing there isn’t an ans— A smirk. “Never not thinking about you.” Ah, shit. I narrow my eyes. “Why is your mind?” He thinks for a second, holding my gaze. “If the why equals Nyla, then yes. Why is my mind.”