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Romantic Quotes

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Romantic Quotes

“Italian restaurants are the stuff romantic dates are made of. Usually. If you think about it, it's a formula that works: a cozy room full of dark, earthy woods; menus that indulge with multiple courses of carbohydrates; plus servers with seductive accents who deliver the food with knowing looks. As they say, that's amore. All of these restaurants define themselves as Tuscan or Northern Italian, which means you can count on them for amazing house-made pastas along with classic meat and fish dishes.”

“So where—?" asked Robin. "I'm taking you to the Ritz for champagne," said Strike. "Are you serious?" "Yeah. It's why I'm wearing you a suit." For a moment Robin simply looked at him, then she reached up and hugged him tightly. Surrounded by banked flowers, both remembered the hug they'd shared at the top of the stairs on her wedding day, but this time, Robin turned her face and kissed Strike deliberately on the cheek, lips to stubble. "Thanks, Strike. This really means a lot." And that, thought her partner, as the two of them headed away toward the Ritz in the golden glow of the early evening, really was well worth sixty quid and a bit of an effort . . . Out of his subconscious rose the names Mazankov and Krupov, and it was a second or two before he remembered where he'd heard them, why they sounded Cornish, and why he thought of them now. The corners of his mouth twitched, but as Robin didn't see him smiling, he felt no compulsion to explain.”

“Be at peace, darling, be at peace, be at peace. Do you remember me? Do you remember? You are, indeed, my only and my last love. Be at peace, I am with you. Think of me, I will be with you, because you and I did not love each other only for one moment, but forever. Do you remember me? Do you remember? Do you remember? And now I feel your tears. Be at peace. It is sweet, sweet, sweet, sweet for me to sleep.”

“Why would you call for me to save you?" He led her out of the coffee shop. "Saving you would be Faroz's job." "I don't know." She looked out over the bay, taking in the soft glow of the golden hour, that magical, romantic, fleeting moment between daylight and dusk when the sun began to dip below the horizon, enveloping everything in shimmering gold. "I think it's maybe because you made me feel safe when Faroz was flashing his gun and telling us stories about being tortured. My subconscious must have figured you were my best bet for a happy Bollywood ending." "You think I could protect you?" He looked so bewildered that Layla had to laugh. "Of course I do. It's who you are. You might be trying to kick me out of the office, but you've been protecting me since the day we met.”

“I have to hand it to you, little Annamuk, this is not what I would have expected." "Why is that?" "It's so, um, romantic." "And you don't think I'm romantic?" "I think you're refreshingly unsentimental. It's what makes you a great builder." "I don't think I follow." He pauses for a moment. "I think that your eye always goes to what will make a home function smoothly, what will make the people who live there comfortable. That is different than the romantic aspect. Romantic people get focused on things like brand names and labels that evoke a certain feel for them, or focused on elements that may or may not work well for their space. Old-world crown molding in a modern loft space, commercial kitchen appliances for a family that doesn't cook, the kinds of touches that actually make a space feel awkward or just off. Your places are always fully kitted out, with amazing attention to detail, and always designed with the actual usage and client in mind." "So why is this different?" "I don't know. Don't get me wrong, it's amazing, and still super-functional, but the chandelier? The painted floor? Very girly." "And I'm not a girl?" Liam looks me dead in my eyes. "No, my darling. You are not now and never have been a girl. You are a woman. Every inch.”

“The Promethean = the Faustian = the eternal seeker = the eternal wanderer = the eternal quester. The Promethean is a romantic, a striving figure, an outsider, a non-conformist. He’s often alone. Conventional society has rejected him and, more importantly, he has rejected conventional society. The HyperHuman plays the Great Game – the God Game. His objective it to transform himself into God ... to undergo the ultimate metamorphosis. The HyperHuman is a new kind of knight, a knight of the mind. He seeks to merit the title of “knight” and lives courageously by a noble code. His life has total focus and purpose. His mind is always focused on the Holy Grail. The search for the Grail is the symbol of the HyperHuman’s search for heaven, for God, to become God.”

“Finally, he sat next to me, his hand lifted up the loose strands of hair from my forehead And placed it behind my ear. His eyes were brimming with ?gentleness, “Don’t worry, no matter how good these Goddesses are, they cannot enter my heart. In this wide world only one person lives in my heart. In my life I will only marry that one person.” With that , he placed me in his deep embrace.”

“For you, I would bring down the stars, wreath their fire around your neck like diamonds, and watch them pulse to the beat of your heart For you, I would capture the candlelight in the palm of my hand Give my breath to give it life A whisper, 'My love' So that it may grow Bright and hot And burn me For you, I would drink the salted oceans Until their depths Were swallowed into the depth of me How deep it is, this life This love, for you I cannot touch bottom I never will For you, I would mine the stony earth Until it relinquished The secrets of time Cracks in the stone wrinkles of the Earth As she turns her face to another new day And so I wish to live Every one of mine With you For you, I would be myself At long last I would live in my skin And breathe my words in my own voice Tinged with the accent Of a child calling to a car that will never stop And in the fading echo Nothing remains but the truth of me that is the love of you I have loved you with both Hands tied behind my back Bound with pen and ink Paper and words Sealed with someone else's name until this moment in which I am nothing but a man who loves a woman. There is nothing left to say Except to give all of my heart For you”

“as with any good fairytale there are moments when everything seems lost and there's no possible solution that brings the lovers together again so please remember, my little love, that while we may have our ups and downs tears of laughter and bouts of heartache the real beauty of 'I do' of this fairytale the one where every chapter begins 'me and you' is that Happily Ever After is not where our story ends but rather it is where our life together begins”