Life should imitate romance literature far more often.
We could go back to your house. I can stay with you always. We can know each others bodies in every way, night after night. I could love you. I could work, you would not be poor. I would help you.
Just because lips have met doesn’t mean hearts have joined. And just because two bodies are drawn to each other doesn’t mean two people are right for each other. A physical relationship does not equal love.
I am a sucker for romance and I love girls and that is a terrible combination, because romance has the ability to overwhelm your perspective.
It’s the perpetually unfinished quality of housework that makes it oppressive – it never ends, like bad psychoanalysis, or a dream interrupted. It is paradoxically true that it is exactly this daily re-creation of the world that lends housekeeping its nobility and romance.
His attitude, though always bad, has changed since he helped me prep the Pandora charm for Morgan. He thinks I’m falling for her, as ridiculous as that sounds, and he might be tempted to take matters into his hands.
Rachel knew what she was doing. And when she didn’t, she could improvise on the fly, coming up with options that left a lot of collateral damage but usually only hurt herself, not the people around her. It was one of the things he would never admit that he admired about her.
Join us next time for Days of the Undead when Rachel learns her long lost brother is really a crown prince from outer space.
You look like the vamp who bled the cat.
His right ear still held both studs, and I wondered who had the missing earring. I would have asked, but was afraid he’d tell me Ivy had it.
We have more faith in a well-written romance while we are reading it than in common history. The vividness of the representations in the one case more than counterbalances the mere knowledge of the truth of facts in the other.
The time of illusion, then, is the beautiful moment of passion; it represents the artistic zone in which the poet or romance writer ought to be free to do the very best that he can.
The Western poet and writer of romance has exactly the same kind of difficulty in comprehending Eastern subjects as you have in comprehending Western subjects.
I have been married twice, and those were not the happiest times of my life. Part of the problem, quite frankly, is that when you get married, the romance disappears and the children arrive and the love is transferred. It shouldn’t be that way, but too often it is transferred to the children.
I comfort myself with the reflection that your wife will possibly be able to curb your desire – I admit, a natural one for the most part – to exterminate your fellows.
Those fine eyes of hers had a disconcertingly direct gaze, and very often twinkled in a manner disturbing to male egotism. She had common-sense too, and what man wanted the plainly matter-of-fact, when he could enjoy instead Sophia’s delicious folly?
The great romance of your youth is your best friend at that age.
I don’t care where I come from or who you are. I can make you happy, and you make me happy. We could have a happily ever after.
And empty words are evil.
It usually happens spur of the moment, like when I broke up My Chemical Romance, it was just that day that I decided it was time for them to be done. And people were very upset about it so I have to choose my next victims carefully.