"romance"タグの名言

If you want the rainbow, you have to deal with the rain.

Want to know the best part of being a warlord?' came a hoarse whisper. I bit my lip, puzzled by the question. Keir’s mouth curled up slowly into a smile. 'I always get what I want.

Magnus remembered a town in Peru whose Quechua name meant “quiet place.” He recalled even more vividly being obscenely drunk and unhappy over his heartbreak of that time, and the maudlin thoughts that had recurred to him over the years, like an unwanted guest slipping in through his doors: that there was no peace for such as he, no quiet place, and there never would be. Except he found himself remembering lying in bed with Alec—all of their clothes on, lounging on the bed on a lazy afternoon, Alec laughing, head thrown back, the marks Magnus had left on his throat very plain to see.

Bellamy took Clarke’s hand, then leaned in and whispered, “Should we go check on your parents?” She turned to him and tilted her head to the side. “Don’t you think it’s a little early to be meeting my parents?” she teased. “After all, we’ve been dating less than a month.” “A month in Earth time is like, ten years in space time, don’t you think?” Clarke nodded. “You’re right. And I suppose that means that I can’t get mad at you if you decide to call it off after a few months, because that’s really a few decades.” Bellamy wrapped his arm around her waist and drew her close. “I want to spend eons with you, Clarke Griffin.” She rose onto her toes and kissed his cheek. “Glad to hear it, because there’s no going back now. We’re here for good.

When lovers kiss on the cheeks, it is because they are searching, feeling for one another's lips. Lovers are made by a kiss.

If I am never to have you again after this night, this moment, you will remain the wife of my soul. Keeper of my heart.

Picnics are very dear to those who are in the first stage of the tender passion.

I stare at her for a long moment. I want to kiss her. I want to kiss her more than I've ever wanted anything in my life.

We don’t read and write poetry because it’s cute. We read and write poetry because we are members of the human race. And the human race is filled with passion. And medicine, law, business, engineering – these are noble pursuits and necessary to sustain life. But poetry, beauty, romance, love – these are what we stay alive for.

I want him to look in the mirror and smile, not scowl. I need him to not think of himself as a monster. I need him to see the real him, because if he doesn’t pull himself out of the villain role, it will destroy him, and I’ll just be left with ashes. I just needed to get it all out because I feel like I’m drowning, and it’s hard to keep myself above water,especially when I’m fighting against the current to save him rather than myself.

I noticed him right away. No, it wasn’t his lean, rugged face. Or the dark waves of shiny hair that hung just a little too long on his forehead. It wasn’t the slim, collarless biker jacket he wore, hugging his lean shoulders. It was the way he stood. The confident way he waited in the cafeteria line to get a slice of pizza. He didn’t saunter. He didn’t amble. He stood at the center, and let the other people buzz around him. His stance was straight and sure.

Because I don’t believe that you are a slave to what you’ve become. I don’t believe that you simply can’t.

Don’t call me babe. I’m not a floozy. Or a freaking talking pig.

It is as if Quincey has replaced the sun in my universe and it is around him that I spin.

Beh reaches up and touches my cheek. “Love,” she whispers. “Luffs!” I respond, and her smile brightens even more. Without a doubt, I will do anything for her.

I think of you only twice a day - when I am alone and when I am with someone else.

She’d felt it before, she felt it now: the pull to fall in with him, to fall into him, to lose her sense of self.

The moment you stop chasing happiness, you become happy.

I wonder if he'll ever see the truth in my own heart: that, whatever Dustpelt says, however much Fireheart breaks the warrior code, I love him more that I could imagine loving any other cat. And if Fireheart knew, would he love me, too? - Sandstorm

My love for you won't stop with my leaving. Come an evening over the years, when you step outside your door and hear the wind blowing through the cottonwoods, that'll be me, thinking of you, whispering your name, and loving you.