I have loved you woman as surely as I have named you rust and sand and nylon.
Fang, fang. I love you. I looooove you. I love you thiiiiiiiiiis much!
In that film Love Story, there's a line, "Love means never having to say you're sorry." That's the dumbest thing I ever heard. Love means saying you're sorry every day for some little thing or other.
I love my mom. And this time, I told her I loved her. And she told me she loved me, too. And things were okay for a little while.
Love is not a feeling to be felt, it's an action to be learned.
She tells her love while half asleep, In the dark hours, With half-words whispered low: As Earth stirs in her winter sleep And puts out grass and flowers Despite the snow, Despite the falling snow.
We should remember that saying 'I love you' is only a beginning. We need to say it, we need to mean it, and most importantly we need consistently to show it. We need to both express and demonstrate love.
To show great love for God and our neighbor we need not do great things. It is how much love we put in the doing that makes our offering something beautiful for God.
I love you too, Will Blakelee," she whispered, leaning in to kiss him again.
O, let me kiss that hand! KING LEAR: Let me wipe it first; it smells of mortality.
A kiss that was every bit as big and every bit as small as a kiss can be.
Only half a page left now. Shall I fill it with 'I love you, I love you'-- like father's page of cats on the mat? No. Even a broken heart doesn't warrant a waste of good paper.
You can't give a child too much love and if you love somebody, you can't be with them enough. There's no such thing.
Sam," she said, and I crushed her to me.
Will you come down and kiss me good night?
Hold me? If you still want to, I mean." She looked away. "Everyday"--then he was there, lifting her into his arms, holding her like she was fragile and precious--"I want to hold you every day. Nothing will ever change that.
Trust me, he whispers against my lips. Maggie, you're my paradise.
How much do you love me?' Midori asked. 'Enough to melt all the tigers in the world to butter,' I said.
Holding someone's hand was always my idea of joy.
If you can't feel then why did you kiss me? Because I can feel it here, in my heart.
And he made love to her, offering his body in both tenderness and anger, unsure which was the best way to pass her bits of his soul so that she could patch her own with it
He stopped and looked back at me "I love you too Pagan. I'll miss you. In every life.
There wasn't a lot of physical tenderness with my parents. There was plenty of love but we weren't into the hugging thing, which now I've totally reversed with my family to the point where it probably drives them crazy.
I want to let her know though that all the nights sleeping beside her even the useless arguments were things ever splendid and the hard words I ever feared to say can now be said: I love you.
Presents of love fear not to be ill taken of strangers.
