With him, life was routine; without him, life was unbearable.
I fell in love the way you fall asleep: slowly, and then all at once.
We accept the love we think we deserve.
Our tongues have fallen madly in love and gotten married and moved to Paris.
The only thing worse than a boy who hates you: a boy that loves you.
Love is a great beautifier.
Love is many things, none of them logical.
When I think of what life is, and how seldom love is answered by love; it is one of the moments for which the world was made.
You love me. Real or not real? I tell him, Real.
Why do I care so much about him, and why do I wish I didn't? How can one person make me so confused all of the time?
Happiness. It was the place where passion, with all its dazzle and drumbeat, met something softer: homecoming and safety and pure sunbeam comfort.
To have been loved so deeply, even though the person who loved us is gone, will give us some protection forever.
If I loved you less, I might be able to talk about it more.
I don't want sunbursts or marble halls, I just want you.
I wish I could spend the rest of my life as a child, being slightly crushed by someone who loved me.
If he didn't care about you, you couldn't upset him.
He smells something like cinnamon-- brown and dry and sweet and warm. Ancestors, is it wrong for me to imagine laying my head on his chest?
If you ever find a man you love, don't waste time hanging your head and simpering. Go right up to him and say, 'I love you. How about getting married?”
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