Quotes About Lovers Quotes

“She was chaos and beauty intertwined. A tornado of roses from divine.”
― Shakieb Orgunwall

“I’m wrapped in you.
Melting in your silhouette
and becoming one,
a strange contour of love,
flowing with the wind.”
― Tatjana Ostojic

“If you were to love, love not for the lust that you yearn but the rather the pain that you earn with it.”
― Adhish Mazumder

“It was who they were, and it was who they always would be. They would remain forever in lust and forever in love, for theirs was a love that transcended body and mind. Theirs was a love of the soul.

--Mistletoe (2012) by Lyn Gardner”
― Lyn Gardner

“...Pouring every bit of the emotion she felt into her kiss, Blair melted into her partner until she could feel own her knees weaken. “I love you so much. It… it frightens me, but I can’t hold back.” “It frightens you?” “Yes. More than I can tell.” “Don’t be frightened,” Kylie murmured. “I’ll never hurt you, sweetheart. I swear!” “I know,” Blair said. “It’s not that… it’s… oh, I don’t know what it is. I’m just scared.” “Don’t let love frighten you. It’s freeing. Trust me.” “I do. I do trust you.” “That’s what love is,” Kylie said fervently. “It’s jumping out of a plane without a parachute, but knowing with every fiber of your being that you’re safe. Your lover will protect you. No matter what. It’s blind faith, Blair. Totally blind faith.” "I’ve never… ever felt this way before,” Blair said, tears filling her eyes. “I’m so frightened, Kylie. Please, please don’t hurt me.” She held on to her lover with all of her might, sobbing so hard she felt sick. “I’ll always be there for you. I’ll catch you. I promise I’ll catch you.”
― Susan X. Meagher, All That Matters

“...Kellen, it’s all just trial and error and making up your mind to live with a shitload of errors.” “Thank you for ripping the romanticism right out of love and crushing it,” Kellen said dryly. “Well, there’s good things about loving someone too. If you pick the right one, you’ll know you have someone to stand beside you no matter what life throws your way. It’s all peaks and valleys. That’s what marriage is. You’re stuck in a rotation of loving someone with all your heart and wanting to smother them with a pillow. It gets better when you’re older because you’re too tired to start over, plus prison isn’t a good place for a woman in her seventies.” Kellen smiled at Trulee. “I don’t know if you realize this or not, but you’re steadily talking me out of wanting to fall in love.” “Let’s deal in reality, honey. If you and Stevie have a long life together, she will eventually have the desire to smother you. Sleep with one eye open, and don’t dry your socks in the microwave like your uncle did this morning. The damn thing smells like a pickle sweltering on fresh asphalt in August. I couldn’t even rewarm my coffee in it. I’m not a good person to talk to about love right now because I’m definitely on the wanting to smother side of the rotation.” “So you’re saying my problem with having to tell Walt might be resolved by tomorrow morning after you’ve smothered him?” Kellen asked with a laugh. “Maybe by this afternoon, Walt does like to take a nap after a fishing trip.” Trulee laughed, too, and bumped Kellen with her shoulder. “Think about this, too. You won’t only want to smother Stevie, you’re gonna want to take a pillow to everyone in her family. The saying ‘you marry your in-laws’ is very true.” “Whew, that’s a sobering thought.” “You hang on to those sobering thoughts for dear life. No one is completely perfect, we all come with baggage. I’d been married to Walt a few months when I learned he enjoyed yodeling, and he wasn’t even any good at it. That was the first little bag he unpacked, the second was full of belches and farts. I started unpacking my bags, too, and one of them had my momma in it. I had her over to the house all the time because I missed her. I have only encountered Joan Sealy twice, and if Stevie unpacks her, you’d better have a pillow handy.” Kellen grinned. “Stop it.”
― Robin Alexander , Kellen's Moment

“Lovers are the best and worst kind of thieves, you know.

That’s the trick of love, you see. An entirely new invention, every time. Rare and singular. Without prior context. Fools us into imagining we are the only ones in the history of every last forever to have ever known such a staggering sort of homecoming.

The first to have tasted this opened-handed hope, to have surrendered that hope into such serendipitous grace. Love has us believing our own fairytales of never before and never again and now and now and only this right now. That in the entirety of this wide-open world nobody else has or will experience exactly this. Not quite like us.

And we are, of course, entirely right and also wholly incorrect, all at once. Language becomes inadequate here, and thus love makes plagiarists of us all—we plunder the cosmos to pirate words and music, and images that come anywhere close to capturing the complexity of this ordinary/extraordinary reality.”
― Jeanette LeBlanc

“The fireplace

The embers in the fireplace were dying slowly,
And their golden sheen that fell on her face was stealing her from me,
Because the embers that no longer shimmered resplendently,
Faded somewhere in the fireplace leaving her cold beside me,

Because a part of her had escaped with these golden embers,
Her warm and loving heart was now in their custody,
So I let my cold heart participate in some organic vitriol to lament their untimely slumbers,
The sleeping embers and in them a part of her sleeping too, leaving me behind to face this emotional fatality,

Where her cold part lies motionless beside me and beside the cold fireplace,
Only to awaken when the embers burn once again,
And her heart feels the renewed and a warmer pace,
Hopefully the embers do not die again then all this burning will be invain,

But burning is the fate of few, their only destiny,
So, I am sure when it is time the embers will shimmer in their golden fire,
Until that happens let me establish with her cold heart and her cold part, a warm fraternity,
And feel the warmth of my every unfulfilled desire,

In this hope I keep staring at the ash gray fireplace,
Where the embers have died, and where her warm part lies somewhere,
But whether it is cold or warm, her sensations with no other I wish to replace,
Because embers are meant to burn in the fireplace and nowhere,

It is a new day and the sun has not risen yet,
But there is a pulse of golden waves forming across the fireplace,
And outside, the rain that lasted the entire night has left everything wet,
Except one place, my own space, I call the sacred fireplace,

Because that is where my emotions burn with flames of desires,
And now everything is covered in a warm and golden sheen,
While my heart tries to separate flames from burning fires,
I over her warm part in emotional relays lean!”
― Javid Ahmad Tak, They Loved in 2075!

“The fireplace

The embers in the fireplace were dying slowly,
And their golden sheen that fell on her face was stealing her from me,
Because the embers that no longer shimmered resplendently,
Faded somewhere in the fireplace leaving her cold beside me,

Because a part of her had been imprisoned by these golden embers,
Her warm and loving heart was now in their custody,
So I let my cold heart lament their untimely slumbers,
The sleeping embers and in them a part of her sleeping too, leaving me behind to face this emotional fatality,

Where her cold part lies motionless beside me and beside the cold fireplace,
Only to awaken when the embers burn once again,
And her heart feels the renewed and a warmer pace,
Hopefully the embers do not die again then all this burning will be invain,

But burning is the fate of few, their only destiny,
So, I am sure when it is time the embers will shimmer in their golden fire,
Until that happens let me establish with her cold heart and her cold part, a warm fraternity,
And feel the warmth of my every unfulfilled desire,

In this hope I keep staring at the ash filled fireplace,
Where the embers have died, and where her warm part lies somewhere,
But whether it is cold or warm, her sensations with no other I wish to replace,
Because embers are meant to burn in the fireplace, else nowhere,

It is a new day and the sun has not risen yet,
But there is a pulse of golden waves forming across the fireplace,
And outside, the rain that lasted the entire night has left everything wet,
Except one place, my own space, I call the sacred fireplace,

Because that is where my emotions burn with flames of desires,
And now everything is covered in a warm and golden sheen,
While my heart tries to separate flames from burning fires,
I over her warm part in emotional relays lean!”
― Javid Ahmad Tak, They Loved in 2075!

“Heart’s deviation

Let us travel from now to then, from today to tomorrow,
Let us fulfill our desires and wishes in a row,
Because they lie sequenced in the order only you and I know,
And you can see them all over my face while I see them appearing on your beautiful brow,

Let me take you into the clouds and get wet,
Let me take you there where I first saw you and then our hearts met,
Because in that place everything is still wet,
Although there are no clouds and the sky is clear, I wonder from where it could such a cover of wetness get,

Let me take you there and together discover its secret,
Let us know what no one else knows about it,
Because the place is mysteriously always wet and it is beyond my wit,
Or it could be it is just my false impression of it,

Let me then make a confession, that since you left nothing has returned,
Let me reveal to you the world that appears deceptively wet as it is actually the world that has endlessly burned,
Because when from the distance you see fields of burned desires and wishes turned to ash, they look like wet surfaces where everything is frozen in stillness and unturned,
And it is from ash covered places like these life has all its ploys learned,

Let me take you away from here too, somewhere far, very far, where burning is not required,
Let us travel there where heart’s find whatever they have wished for and desired,
Because they say utopia is somewhere where human feelings are never by desperate moments mired,
And in this outlandish possibility let us seek each other and never feel tired,

Let me love you behind the clouds and beyond the blue sky,
Let us go there where everything burns: the sun, the stars, the universe, and everything that flies by,
Because there, maybe when you see them burning in the fire of eternity and cry,
You might realise why few places appear to be always wet long after their fires die,

Let me look at your face, your eyes; and understand you a bit more,
Let me see you in reality’s dress and then let me your every sentiment explore,
Because when we realise what burning feels like it is then your true soul peeps from your skin’s every pore,
Then let me kiss you and see if you too ever felt wet, and feel the corner of your heart where all your feelings you store,

Let me let you explore me in the same ways,
Let me let you experience the wetness of my soul, that has burned endlessly for nights and days,
Because only then you might be able to see what you could never feel because you knew not how to deal with heart’s ways,
As it is with all of us, in the beginning we let our minds dictate the darkness of our nights and the brightness of our days,

Let me cover you with my desires and their fires and everything that you wish to feel,
Let me show you how human lives turn and spin on the fate’s wheel,
Because sometimes what appears to be the reality is actually not real,
Maybe it will be the misadventure of our hearts but then if you look at the world and the universe even real sometimes seems unreal,

Let me introduce you to the world where everything is real because there is no fake dimension,
Let us then live in this romantic moment this romantic sensation,
Because in the miscellany of my feelings, desires, and endless wishes, your feelings appear to be my heart’s only native creation,
So let me, my love Irma, make you feel what true impenitence feels like when you do not obey your mind but you follow your heart’s every selfless deviation!”
― Javid Ahmad Tak, They Loved in 2075!

“This is the way of lovers, isn’t it - to overqualify their experience? Who, in the midst of rush and longing, thinks, well, this love is mundane, inconsequential, and utterly unoriginal?

No. To those in the midst of falling, all love is great love. It would be insulting to suggest otherwise.

But still, at the risk of appearing biased or overly sentimental, might I suggest that even in the truth of this, some loves are different. And this was one of them.

It is commonly accepted that a love affair is only made great by time and history and by its discovery and retelling at a time long after the love has ended, by death or leaving. Hearts broken by distance or cruelty or the ultimate fallibility of the human heart. We believe that the greatness of a love affair can only be defined and named in retrospect—after it has been documented, proven, recognized by many.

But normal rules of love do not apply here, because this was not an ordinary love.”
― Jeanette LeBlanc