When your beauty struck me, it dissolved me. Deep down, I am not different from you. I dreamed you, I wished for your existence. I see in you that part of me which is you. I surrender my sincerity because if I love you it means we share the same fant...
I know you won't miss me, I know you won't even bother to ask how i am without you? But still my heart will always call for you, my mind will always think of you because I love you and I will miss you that every moment that I stay without you.
I know you won't miss me, i know you won't even bother to ask how i am with you? But still my heart will always call for you, My mind will only think of you because I love you And I will miss you that every moment I live without you.
Goodbye," she told him, running her hand across his broad back one last time. "I love you. And I'll never, ever stop missing you.
I refused to believe that love could take any other form than mine: I measured love by the extent of my jealousy, and by that standard of course she could not love me at all.
...you were there when they trampled me - you picked me up, healed me and gave me back my feelings - is it any wonder I love you?...
Even though I buried our love in a coffin, it isn’t dead. No, our love is very much alive. Or at least it was yesterday, when I went to visit the cemetery.
You're thoughtful, Barbara, but you're not open. You're passionate, but you're hard. You're a good, decent, funny, wonderful woman, and I love you, but you're a pain in the ass.
Man up?" He sat back in a lazy, arrogant sprawl, but the coiled tension was in every muscle in his body. "It's a good thing I love you or I'd find that particularly insulting.
Like Blue Ribbon Coffee, my love is in second place. But that’s OK, because like Blue Ribbon Coffee, I have winning taste.
I understood how strangers met and fell into bed, not how they met and fell in love. I wasn't sure what falling in love meant. The very notion seemed so corny, so arbitrary, so fragile.
Our time together was a blur—not because I was drunk, which I was, but because our love was like the beating of a hummingbird’s wings.
My love is popular. It must be, because I never have any. Is it because I don’t produce any, or because I’m always sold out?
She had no legs, so I made her wear suspenders and I carried her like a backpack. True love knows no luggage.
Love is a four-letter word. So is glue, only it isn’t as sticky. And I must admit, I still eat it all the time.
I’m so glad my date doesn’t think I’m ugly. I love blind dates where the woman is actually blind.
I believe there are three tenants to live by in this apartment called Life: Love is empowering, Fear is motivating, and Passion is fruit.
Love is me plus you. But what’s with the midget in the corner recording all of our interactions? I thought I fired him yesterday.
I’m tired of calling @PapaJohns. I wish they’d call me for once. I’m starting to think they don’t love me.
My I love you was a measured response, like one gallon of coffee in one cup of sugar. It was just overflowing with an awakening of my soul.
I love her passionately with a morbid intensity; madly as one can only love a woman who never responds to our love with anything but an eternally uniform, eternally calm, stony smile.
