F. Scott Fitzgerald Quotes

Kiss me with your eyes.

Kissing is what humans do when words have reached a place they can't escape from.

She lifted the drooping muzzle with both hands...It was a special embrace saved for special occasions.

You men do not understand the delights of a glance, of a pressure of the hand... but as for me, I swear to you that, when I listen to your voice, I feel such a deep, strange bliss that the most passionate kisses could not take its place.

The music was my friend, my lover, my family.

I wish I could be whole for you…I wish I could hold you and dance with you, take you in my arms and make love to you the way I want to. (Adron) And I’m just grateful I have you at all. It’s not your body or face that I love, Adron. It’s your heart, your soul, and your mind. (Livia)

She nodded... and was about to turn away. Then, as if she thought better of it, she reached out and grabbed his arm. "Jack." "Yes?" "I. . ." she faltered. She knew what she wanted to tell him, but she couldn't bring herself to say the words. It turned out she didn't have to. Jack put a hand to his heart and nodded. "I feel the same way about you.

Love's sweetest meanings are unspoken; the full heart knows no rhetoric of words.

Sometimes he sits at your feet looking into your face with an expression so gentle and caressing that the depth of his gaze startles you.

They were kissing. Put like that, and you could be forgiven for presuming that this was a normal kiss, all lips and skin and possibly even a little tongue. You'd miss how he smiled, how his eyes glowed. And then, after the kiss was done, how he stood, like a man who had just discovered the art of standing and had figured out how to do it better than anyone else who would ever come along.

How has anyone ever understood anyone, except through love, which is wordless?

No words for the passion. No words for the need.No words for the sheer epiphany of the moment.And so, on an otherwise unremarkable Friday afternoon, in the heart of Mayfair, in a quiet drawing room on Mount Street, Colin Bridgerton kissed Penelope Featherington.And it was glorious.

Well, you can think what you want, so long as you remember - no matter how ordinary things seem between us - I'm still here, still in love with you, and care about you more than any other guy, evil or otherwise, ever will.

It's in the eyes, mostly. Don't listen just to the other actor's lines. Look at - and listen to - their eyes. That's where the emotion comes through.

I love you too, Will Blakelee," she whispered, leaning in to kiss him again.

I think that one of the great things about spending - as in my case - twenty-something years with somebody is that at some point you do love the actual person. They're there little by little, the outline is really pretty clear.

His chin grazed the top of my head and then his lips brushed across my forehead. “I’m not going anywhere,” he said. “I’ll be right here when you wake up, sweetheart. I promise.

Just as the pious man prays without speaking a word and the Almighty hearkens unto him, so the artist with true feelings paints and the sensitive man understands and recognizes it.

If her soul ever leaks, I want it to land on me.

I held him close and said nothing, all the while telling him silently that he was loved. Oh, but he was loved.

When you hug someone, you learn something else about them. An important something else.

His lips pressed against her forehead and she felt him smile against her skin. "Believe me...the only place in the world I want to be is wherever you are." -Grant Morgan

Usually they are quick to discover that I cannot see or hear.... It is not training but love which impels them to break their silence about me with the thud of a tail rippling against my chair on gambols round the study, or news conveyed by expressive ear, nose, and paw. Often I yearn to give them speech, their motions are so eloquent with things they cannot say.

In love, such a word, whispered, is a mysterious kiss of the soul to the soul.

And what is a kiss, specifically? A pledge properly sealed, a promise seasoned to taste, a vow stamped with the immediacy of a lip, a rosy circle drawn around the verb 'to love.' A kiss is a message too intimate for the ear, infinity captured in the bee's brief visit to a flower, secular communication with an aftertaste of heaven, the pulse rising from the heart to utter its name on a lover's lip: 'Forever.