If You Love Your Woman Quotes

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If You Love Your Woman Quotes

Eve: "If you ended up naked and dead with another woman, Id do the Rumba on your corpse." Roarke: "You cant do the Rumba." Eve: "Id take lessons first." Roarke: "You might very well. Not that youll ever get the chance, but youd also grieve." Eve: "Wouldnt give you the satisfaction. You cheating f-wit putz. " Roarke: "Youd weep in the dark and call my name." Eve: "Call your name alright. How are things in hell? You dickless bastard. And Id laugh and laugh, thats how Id call your name." Roarke: "Christ Jesus Eve, I love you." Eve, Roarke
— J.D. Robb —

) "Do you hear his voice as you hear me? Is it a voice outside your head?"
"It's difficult to explain. It isn't a voice like anything I've ever heard before. It isn't a man or a woman, it's God."
"How do you know?"
"Because the voice says so. And I believe it."
"Does it talk to you or does it talk about you or others?"
"It talks to me."
"Does it call your name?"
"Yes ... It says something like: "Cain, listen. There's something I want you to tell the others. Tell them they must love themselves. Tell them they are beautiful.""
"Who are the others?"
"Black people."
"You mean God is talking to the black people through you."
"I mean God is black.

— Olga Núñez Miret

It is as if, oddly, you were waiting for someone but you didn't know who they were until they arrived. Whether or not you were aware that there was something missing in your life, you will be when you meet the person you want. What psychoanalysis will add to this love story is that the person you fall in love with really is the man or woman of your dreams; that you have dreamed them up before you met them; not out of nothing - nothing comes of nothing - but out of prior experience, both real and wished for. You recognize them with such certainty because you already, in a certain sense, know them; and because you have quite literally been expecting them, you feel as though you have known them for ever, and yet, at the same time, they are quite foreign to you. They are familiar foreign bodies.

— Adam Phillips

The child comes home and the parent puts the hooks in him. The old man, or the woman, as the case may be, hasn't got anything to say to the child. All he wants is to have that child sit in a chair for a couple of hours and then go off to bed under the same roof. It's not love. I am not saying that there is not such a thing as love. I am merely pointing to something which is different from love but which sometimes goes by the name of love. It may well be that without this thing which I am talking about there would not be any love. But this thing in itself is not love. It is just something in the blood. It is a kind of blood greed, and it is the fate of a man. It is the thing which man has which distinguishes him from the happy brute creation. When you got born your father and mother lost something out of themselves, and they are going to bust a hame trying to get it back, and you are it. They know they can't get it all back but they will get as big a chunk out of you as they can.

— Robert Penn Warren

I don't suppose you told the woman you're arse over teakettle in love with her?"
"I did. [ ... ] I went about it all wrong."
"There's a wrong way to tell a woman you love her?"
"Nearly shouting it at her when she's angry and frightened and looking for excuses to throw your ring at you might qualify.

— Grace Burrowes

They're kids Apollo. Young kids. And they don't need to know their father has a bed partner."
"I won't exactly be sharing our play second for second at the breakfast table, Madeleine," he stated, his voice turning cold . "But to share your bed with a woman you care about is not something to be ashamed of."
"No, of course not, but-"
"And I'll not communicate that by hiding who you are to me."
That was nice, so nice.
But that didn't mean he wasn't moving too fast.
"That's sweet, honey, but-"
"And I'll not have it communicated to my children ... in any way ... that the act of love between two agreeable adults is something to hide because it's shameful.

— Kristen Ashley

As to your being worthy, I don't think falling in love has much to do with the worth of the object of love. But I'd dispute your assessment. I think you're a fine woman, and I think you always try to be the best person you can be.

— Charlaine Harris

Being a mother is the best thing that ever happened to me. Before you have your first baby you are a girl and then you become a mother. There is no transition into being a woman; you literally become a mum and being a mum means you always love someone else more than yourself and it is an unexplainable situation.

— Brigitte Nielsen

Perhaps you are right. In another setting it would be ridiculous, too grand. In another setting it would not happen because you are a famous woman and at best I would shake your famous hand for one second while you stepped into your car after a performance. But in this place I hear you sing every day. In this place I watch you eat your dinner, and what I feel in my heart is love. There is no point in not telling you that. These people who detain us so pleasantly may decide to shoot us after all. It is a possibility. And if that is the case, then why should I carry this love with me to the other world? Why not give to you what is yours?

— Ann Patchett

I have raised you to respect every human being as singular. And you must extend that same respect into the past. Slavery is not an indefinable mass of flesh. It is a particular, specific enslaved woman whose mind is as active as your own, whose range of feelings as vast as your own, who prefers the way the light falls in one particular spot in the woods, who enjoys fishing where the water eddys in the nearby stream, who loves her mother in her own complicated way, thinks her sister talks to loud, has a favorite cousin, a favorite season, who excels at dress making, and knows inside herself that she is as intelligent and capable as anyone.
Slavery is the same woman born in a world that loudly proclaims its love of freedom and describes this world in essential texts. A world in which these same professors hold this woman a slave. Hold her mother a slave, her father a slave, her daughter a slave.

— Ta-Nehisi Coates

My dear Princess, if you could creep unseen about your City, peeping at will through the curtain-shielded windows, you would come to think that all the world was little else than a big nursery full of crying children with none to comfort them. The doll is broken: no longer it sweetly sqeaks in answer to our pressure, "I love you, kiss me." The drum lies silent with the drumstick inside, no longer do we make a brave noise in the nursery. The box of tea-things we have clumsily put out foot upon; there will be no more merry parties around the three-legged stool. The tin trumpet will not play the note we want to sound; the wooden bricks keep falling down; the toy has exploded and burnt our fingers. Never mind, little man, little woman, we will try and mend things to-morrow

— Jerome K. Jerome

So what's your secret?" Jed asked. "There's two secrets, son. One is to love your woman, not with your whole heart but with your soul. If you got an inklin' that you aren't finished chasin' skirts, then you ain't ready to settle down anyway. The other is to respect your woman." Everett poured coffee from the thermos into his cup. "That's different from loving her. That means you don't belittle her, not in front of other people or in private. Your job is to not only make her feel like she's gorgeous but to know in your heart that she really is and to drop down on your knees every once in a while and thank God that he put her in your life. You do those things and you'll be just fine. If you don't, somebody else will and you'll lose the best thing that ever happened to you." "Good

— Carolyn Brown

Woman, I would have been your child, to drink the milk of your breasts as from a well, to see and feel you at my side and have you in your gold laughter and your crystal voice.
To feel you in my veins like God in the rivers and adore you in the sorrowful bones of dust and lime, to watch you passing painlessly by
to emerge in the stanza-cleansed of all evil.
How I would love you woman, how I would love you, love you as no one ever did!
Die and still
love you more.
And still
love you more
and more.

— Pablo Neruda

When a woman tells me she loves my dresses. These women have nothing to gain to tell you that they love your dresses. A lot of professional women admit dressing for work previously was such a challenge. It's these moments for me that are so rewarding.

— Sarah Lafleur

I love the confidence! I am who I am, and I know who I am. I respect what you have to say, but I'm not listening to you, and your opinion is not affecting me. I am a 49-year-old woman. Don't tell me! That's what I love!

— Wendy Williams

Secret of life is to go through something harrowing that doesnt kill you ... and to love one woman for the rest of your life.

— Garrison Keillor

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