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True Love Quotes

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True Love Quotes

“As he neared the house, he saw Albert bounding out of the woods, followed by Beatrix's slender form. She was returning from Ramsay House. A strong gust of wind blew against her wine-colored cloak, causing it to flap wildly, and her hat flew from her head. She laughed as the dog went to chase it. Seeing Christopher approach on the road, she waved at him. He was nearly overcome with relief. The panic eased. The darkness began to recede. Thank you, God. Beatrix was there, and safe. She belonged to him, she was beautiful and vibrant, and he would spend his life taking care of her. Whatever she desired of him, whatever words or memories she asked for, he would give. It almost seemed easy now- the force of his love would make anything easy.”

“René Char, poète français du XXe siècle et membre de la Résistance française, parle de l’Amour en termes de résistance contre l’absence non pas sous sa forme laborieuse, mais sous la forme la plus simple qui soit. Pour Char, la présence de la personne aimée n'est plus une condition préalable à l'épanouissement de son amour, il ne peut en aucun cas en être une cause. Le bien-aimé est là, dans l'espace qu'il remplit, dans l'espace qu'il décore; cependant et avec qui il veut. La personne aimée tient le temps aussi aussi fermement que les clés d'absence. Mais l'amour de Char, la nature la plus vraie de l'amour, "résiste" si facilement.”

“And as for his being a cold fish, I can assure you most definitely that he is not. Furthermore-" "Sophia," Sir Ross interrupted softly, "you don't have to defend me, my love." "Well, you're not," she insisted. His hand turned palm up to grip hers, and for just a moment the pair stared at their interlaced fingers with a shared pleasure that seemed unspeakably intimate. Lottie felt a peculiar ache in her chest. What must it be like to love that way? The two of them seemed to take such enormous delight in each other.”

“Pat gave a few little yelps of pain as he was carried down the hall, but he looked around, surprised and faintly pleased, when Phil put him carefully on the bed. And his ears pricked up to listen to the sound of Katy's voice from the bathroom, calling out a thank-you to Phil for the warm towel. The dog's eyes had seemed to be dimming, like two faraway torch beams moving farther away into the night. But for a few seconds they seemed to brighten, sharpen, intensify. He looked straight at Phil as if trying to communicate something. "You love her, don't you?" Phil said softly. The dog blinked and then closed his eyes. "Me too.”

“She was leaning over him, with a slight smile that was victorious over everything: victorious over her sickness, over the incandescent air, over her exhaustion, the dust, the stench, the merciless heat. Lying flat under the bush, his eyes blood- shot and his nose bleeding. Fields told himself that he would particularly have liked to inspire such love and devotion in a German he, the son of parents who had been gassed by the Germans at Auschwitz: it would have proved that to be a man was after all not hopeless. To fall in love with a German girl, he a Jew, that would show the Germans how he felt about it. But perhaps it was merely lust.”

“Oh," said her husband, sounding deeply pleased at something he'd read in his letter. "What?" Bridget sat up, inadvertently spilling several drops of honey on her breast. Sadly, she succumbed to her husband's fondness for nudity soon after their marriage. Valentine glanced up, but his gaze was immediately drawn to the honey slowly dripping down her breast. "Val..." Bridget moved to scoop the honey up with her finger. His hand darted out, catching hers. "Oh, don't," he breathed, leaning over her, forcing her flat on her back. He bent, closing his azure eyes, and licked her breast almost reverently. She shuddered. "It's the middle of the day," she whispered. His eyes opened, wicked and amused. "I know. Your favorite." She smiled up at him, threading her fingers through his golden hair. "I love you." "And I love you," he murmured against her lips, before taking her mouth hard and possessively. Their letters fell to the floor, abandoned, but Bridget didn't care at all. She was with her true love and the world outside could wait.”

“If you fall for a dark-eyed beauty, pretty as a picture, with lips as sweet as a luscious rasberry, and a gentle face, unrumpled by kisses, like an apple-blossom petal in May, and she becomes your love—then do not say that love is yours: even though you cannot tire of her rounded breasts, of her slender frame that melts in your embrace like wax before a flame. . . . The day will come, that cruel hour will come, the fatal moment will come, when he face will fade, rumpled by kisses, her breasts will no longer quiver at your touch: all this will come to pass; and you will be alone with your own shadow amidst the sunscorched deserts and the dried up springs, where flowers do not bloom and the sunlight plays on the dry skin of a lizard; and you might even see the hairy black tarantula’s lair, all enmeshed in the threads of its web . . . And then your thirsting voice will be raised from the sands, calling longingly to your homeland. --- But if your love is otherwise, if her browless face has once been touched by the black blemish of the pox, if her hair is red, her breasts sagging, her bare feet dirty, and to any extent at all her stomach protrudes, and still she is your love—then that which you have sought and found in her is the sacred homeland of your soul.”

“I love the quiet beauty of the night sky," she continued thoughtfully, "filled with mystery and starlight, but there is something magical about the dawn. It is strange, When the sky begins to lighten and soft colors first appear, the transition is so gentle you hardly notice it. But if you are aware enough to observe, if you take the time to really be a part of the transformation, it feels..." Her explanation trailed off. She found it difficult to find the words to properly describe the wonder she felt as she experienced the very common daily occurrence. "It feels like it possesses all the possibilities of life," Avenell offered quietly. Lily turned in place. She slipped her arms around his naked torso and tipped her head back to look into his face. Her smile was so wide her cheeks ached, but she did not hold back. Her joy in the past few months had grown by leaps and bounds, and only because of how much she had seen her happiness reflected in the man she loved. Love flowed freely between them as he lowered his head to take her mouth in a kiss that was slow and deep.”