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Romantic Quotes

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Romantic Quotes

“Men know that most women want to have an emotional connection with someone before they sleep with them. Men know that a lot of women think it's romantic to be friends first, and then the friendship blossoms into a relationship. Men know that they have to jump through all these hoops first, before they can get laid. And that's really all romance and courtship is to a man: hoops he has to jump through to get laid.”

“Nazmahal 2, Sonnet of Lost Love You know who the biggest enemy of the lover is? It's the behaviorist. The behaviorist warns, but the lover wants to believe - the behaviorist restrains, but the lover wants to fall. So far, every time the behaviorist has had the final word - I told you so - yet the lover never learns the lesson. Still at the faintest possibility of love, lover jumps in, lock, stock and barrel. Love misplaced is not love wasted, Love misplaced is heart sweetened. Trust misplaced is not trust lost, Trust misplaced is humanity tested. Every good deed is a test of heart, Every act of love is existence tried. It's okay to be disappointed in deception, but never let it turn your ideals into a lie.”

“One and A Half Ex (Sonnets 1429, 1430) Once upon a time by the Bay of Bengal, a naive tiger fell for a vain sheep. The sheep had him eating out of her hand, only to discard him for another sheep. The tiger's world was turned upside down, abandoning home-n-uni he set out as monk. Then one afternoon underneath the tree, the monk awakened to prophetic dimension. The saintly tiger then returned home, Lo, commenced his sleepless self-education! He had already mastered all divine sight, Now he needed to muster a scientific arsenal. During his making he met a Balkan xena, she was everything he could ever dream of. But the tiger still had plenty struggle ahead, even for the perfect partner it was too much. She had a beautiful heart which grew weary, waiting for a giant with the world on shoulder. The first whole love of the tiger came to halt, after four magical years of timeless forever. Though devastated, unable to think-n-work, this time this was no longer a naive tiger. Gloom galvanizes conviction invincible, Shattered heart makes shade for the world.”

“Every person has a secret inventory of "things". I call them objects of attachment - things that refuse to be forgotten. Perhaps it's a place, a smell, a business card. Whatever it is, they refuse to go unnoticed. These objects are enchanted, taking us back to another time or another place, where things are very different from the way they are now. They make us nostalgic. Playing back memories like old black and white movies, flickering with shimmer and warmth. They are hard to avoid - popping up when your mind is distracted. And regardless of what you threw away, or donated to charity, that is where you find yourself - staring at the game of Scrabble, wondering exactly how each piece used to fit. While I know my inventory and have studied it well, I often wonder which objects I am attached to. And I find myself hoping that one day you find me, unexpectedly tucked away in the back of your closet, or a messy desk drawer - and remember exactly what we once were.”

“Our world is filled with different kinds of people. They are all special in some way; they just don't know it yet. Some people are happy and sad. Some people have other people who care about them. Then there are people who believe that they have no one. Some people are doing great & some people are heartbroken. The fact is you can't run away from what's about to come. You can't run away from the pain.”

“He hated himself for allowing his heart to be tossed by the waves of her flicking tongue. This Earth Mother who in one moment offered limitless hope—a glorious horizon that would inspire him to perform any heroic deed she might require—before hurtling him into the hollow despair of her disdain. The goddess had chosen another! Or perhaps no one at all. What mattered was that the lovely warmth of her gaze no longer shone upon you.”

“He stood frozen, staring at me as if he didn’t know how to do anything else. I couldn’t focus; it was like all the world’s blue had originated from his eyes. It was all there, the color of midnight, the sky, the ocean, and blue raspberry lollipops. Why had I spent so much time pretending they weren’t remarkable?”

“Even the memory of cradling her in my arms is pure euphoria. And all that I ask out of life is that it be constant and unending euphoria.”

“Life is too short to be anything but happy. So kiss slowly. Love deeply. Forgive quickly. Take chances and never have regrets. Forget the past but remember what it taught you.”

“As I tried to doze, the incident on the piazzetta, lost somewhere amid the Piave war memorial and our ride up the hill with fear and shame and who knows what else pressing on me, seemed to come back to me from summers and ages ago, as though I'd biked up to the piazzetta as a little boy before World War I and had returned a crippled ninety-year-old soldier confined to this bedroom that was not even my own, because mine had been given over to a young man who was the light of my eyes. The light of my eyes, I said, light of my eyes, light of the world, that's what you are, light of my life. I didn't know what light of my eyes meant, and part of me wondered where on earth had I fished out such claptrap, but it was nonsense like this that brought tears now, tears I wished to drown in his pillow, soak in his bathing suit, tears I wanted him to touch with the tip of his tongue and make sorrow go away.”

“Ô, the wine of a woman from heaven is sent, more perfect than all that a man can invent.”

“Ô, the wine of a woman from heaven is sent, more perfect than all that a man can invent. When she came to my bed and begged me with sighs not to tempt her towards passion nor actions unwise, I told her I’d spare her and kissed her closed eyes, then unbraided her body of its clothing disguise. While our bodies were nude bathed in candlelight fine I devoured her mouth, tender lips divine; and I drank through her thighs her feminine wine. Ô, the wine of a woman from heaven is sent, more perfect than all that a man can invent.”

“Imagine, if you will: Meradinis! The stuff myths are made of! The Turtle Island of the stars – home planet to the fearsome and once legendary Corsairs. The very name of this world immediately grabbed the imaginations of young boys and girls, and universally mesmerize dreamers and romantics alike. The truth though was less romantic – and as reality so often demonstrates in real life - instead rather ugly and brutal. The Corsairs were not corn-ball comics that went about with parrots on their shoulders, saying “Arr!” to everything they encountered. They were anything but. Behind the Corsairs and their culture lay a history fraught with a struggle to survive, a vengefulness and a cruelty – and a drive to survive by preying upon others that struck fear into the hearts of neighboring fringe worlds.”

“This was the first time I thought of S— that day. Her music was beautiful, her voice was beautiful, her body was beautiful. Even the dirty little pads of her feet were beautiful. I cursed myself then. For once, heaven had sent me Beauty in its most perfected form and I abandoned it. She might not have been a girl after all but an angel: a force to guide me on this hazardous path of life I hurry down. How can life be hazardous if it can only end in death?”

“Xiao YuAn, listen to me very carefully. I like you, the kind of like in which I want to tie you to my bed. The kind of like that in addition to me, you won’t see anyone else. In which, night after night you’ll be under my arms begging for mercy. I’ll make your eyes cry until the corners of your eyes become red, and your fingers clutch the bedding because you can’t bear my manipulation on your body. You will desperately try to escape, but you’ll be unable to move, trying really hard to breathe as you can’t stop your mouth from moaning in pleasure. Do you understand me?”