Romance

"Let’s start with this statistic: You are delicious. Be brave, my sweet. I know you can get lonely. I know you can crave companionship and sex and love so badly that it physically hurts. But I truly believe that the only way you can find out that there’s something better out there is to first believe there’s something better out there. What other choice is there?"

"Love is a luxury."No. Love is an element."An element. Like air to breathe, earth to stand on."

"We kiss all the time." I clear my throat, then add, "We just...do it in private." "A smug expression crosses his face. "I don't buy it for a second, 'cause if you were my girlfriend and a stud like me was livin' in your house, I'd kiss you in front of the guy every chance I got as a reminder." "A reminder of w-w-what" "That you were mine."

"Maybe the first time you saw her you were ten. She was standing in the sun scratching her legs. Or tracing letters in the dirt with a stick. Her hair was being pulled. Or she was pulling someone's hair. And a part of you was drawn to her, and a part of you resisted--wanting to ride off on your bicycle, kick a stone, remain uncomplicated. In the same breath you felt the strength of a man, and a self-pity that made you feel small and hurt. Part of you thought: Please don't look at me. If you don't, I can still turn away. And part of you thought: Look at me."

"One day, when I am a braver man, I will tell her these things, and then I will look her in the eye tell her I love her and ask her to be only mine. But until that day, we're just friends."

"Falling for him would be like cliff diving. It would be either the most exhilarating thing that ever happened to me or the stupidest mistake I’d ever make."

"Don't leave a piece of jewelry at his house so you can go back and get it later he may be with his real girlfriend."

"Here's something else to think about: calling when you say you're going to is the very first brick in the house you are building of love and trust. If he can't lay this one stupid brick down, you ain't never gonna have a house baby, and it's cold outside."

"Ye are Blood of my Blood, and Bone of my Bone,I give ye my Body, that we Two might be One. I give ye my Spirit, 'til our Life shall be Done."

"If I die, I will wait for you, do you understand? No matter how long. I will watch from beyond to make sure you live every year you have to its fullest, and then we’ll have so much to talk about when I see you again… (Bones)"

"Those sweet lips. My, oh my, I could kiss those lips all night long. Good things come to those who wait."

"So it’s true, when all is said and done, grief is the price we pay for love."

"You really love her don't you," she said. With all my heart."She looked as sad as I'd ever seen her. What's your heart telling you to do"I don't know."Maybe", she said gently,"You're trying to hard to hear it."

"Perhaps, after all, romance did not come into one’s life with pomp and blare, like a gay knight riding down; perhaps it crept to one’s side like an old friend through quiet ways; perhaps it revealed itself in seeming prose, until some sudden shaft of illumination flung athwart its pages betrayed the rhythm and the music, perhaps . . . perhaps . . . love unfolded naturally out of a beautiful friendship, as a golden-hearted rose slipping from its green sheath."

"If you can capture a woman's imagination, then you will have her. But imagination is a strange creature. It needs time and distance to function properly."

"Oh no. Don't smile. You'll kill me. I stop breathing when you smile."

"He dug so deeply into her sentiments that in search of interest he found love, because by trying to make her love him he ended up falling in love with her. Petra Cotes, for her part, loved him more and more as she felt his love increasing, and that was how in the ripeness of autumn she began to believe once more in the youthful superstition that poverty was the servitude of love. Both looked back then on the wild revelry, the gaudy wealth, and the unbridled fornication as an annoyance and they lamented that it had cost them so much of their lives to find the paradise of shared solitude. Madly in love after so many years of sterile complicity, they enjoyed the miracle of living each other as much at the table as in bed, and they grew to be so happy that even when they were two worn-out people they kept on blooming like little children and playing together like dogs."

"Moments, when lost, can't be found again. They're just gone."

"She wanted something else, something different, something more. Passion and romance, perhaps, or maybe quiet conversations in candlelit rooms, or perhaps something as simple as not being second."

"It's bullshit to think of friendship and romance as being different. They're not. They're just variations of the same love. Variations of the same desire to be close."