When He Kisses Me Quotes

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When He Kisses Me Quotes

When he kisses me again, the last part of me that could stand myself dies.
— Karen Marie Moning —

And, like a fool, she kissed him back. Kissed him a way that would leave no doubt about the way she felt about him. Kissed him because she knew the chances were slim she'd have very many kisses like that in her lifetime.
Which is a sad thing when you're only seventeen.

— Cinda Williams Chima

So he starts getting up and brings me along by my lips. Alright. Now we're being videotaped. His backs to the camera. "Trust me?" He asks.
"Uh ... sure?" Huh?
He starts to lift up my shirt when he kisses me again. I bite his lip and glare at him. "What? I need your shirt for the camera."
"Use your own goddamn shirt!

— Bella Shadow

He smiles and kisses my hand. I like it when you're sassy.

— Kristen Proby

And that's when I realize how tired I am, of lies and omissions and half-truths. I put Wes in danger, but he's still here-and if he's willing to brave this chaos with me, then he deserves to know what I know. And I'm about to speak, about to tell him that, tell him everything, when he brings his hand to the back of my neck, pulls me forward, and kisses me.
The noise floods in. I don't push back, don't block it out, and for one moment, all I can think is that he tastes like summer rain.
His lips linger on mine, urgent and warm.

— Victoria Schwab

There used to be two kinds of kisses: First when girls were kissed and deserted; second, when they were engaged. Now there's a third kind, where the man is kissed and deserted. If Mr. Jones of the nineties bragged he'd kissed a girl, everyone knew he was through with her. If Mr. Jones of 1919 brags the same, everyone knows it's because he can't kiss her any more. Given a decent start any girl can beat a man nowadays.

— F. Scott Fitzgerald

I like you so much, she says between kisses. And I can tell she wants to say love instead of like, not because she really does love me but because she just wants to say it. Of course, she can't, though. Not when I haven't said it first.

— Tim Tharp

When shall we pass a day alone? I have had a thousand kisses, for which with my whole soul I thank love - but if you should deny me the thousand and first - 'twould put me to the proof how great a misery I could live through.

— John Keats

When you lick me," he said roughly, "I want to be alone-far away from everyone. Because when you lick me, Feyre," he said, pressing nipping kisses to my jaw, my neck, "I'm going to let myself roar loud enough to bring down a mountain.

— Sarah J. Maas

Why do you sell your wine, merchant?
What can they give you in exchange for your wine? Money? ... And what can money give you? Power? ... Aren't you the owner of the world when you are holding a drink? Is anyone richer than you, who have gold in your cup, Rubies, Pearls, Dreams, and Love? Don't you feel the blood burning in your veins when the cup kisses your lips.

— Omar-Khayyam

Here I love you and the horizon hides you in vain.
I love you still among these cold things.
Sometimes my kisses go on those heavy vessels
that cross the sea towards no arrival.
I see myself forgotten like those old anchors.
The piers sadden when the afternoon moors there.
My life grows tired, hungry to no purpose.
I love what I do not have. You are so far.
My loathing wrestles with the slow twilights.
But night comes and starts to sing to me.

— Pablo Neruda

Fatima went back to her tent, and, when daylight came, she went out to do the chores she had done for years. But everything had changed. The boy was no longer at the oasis, and the oasis would never again have the same meaning it had had only yesterday. It would no longer be a place with fifty thousand palm trees and three hundred wells, where the pilgrims arrived, relieved at the end of their long journeys. From that day on, the oasis would be an empty place for her.
From that day on, it was the desert that would be important. She would look to it everyday, and would try to guess which star the boy was following in search of his treasure. She would have to send her kisses on the wind, hoping that the wind would touch the boy's face, and would tell him that she was alive. That she was waiting for him, a woman awaiting a courageous man in search of his treasure. From that day on, the desert would represent only one thing to her: the hope for his return.

— Paulo Coelho

When moonlight french kisses the Manhattan midnight
There's a not a face without a teardrop that's in sight
Midnights in Manhattan keep me dreamin'
I think I'm gonna keep em

— Mac Lethal

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