A Quote by F. Scott Fitzgerald

My God,' he gasped, 'you're fun to kiss. — © F. Scott Fitzgerald
My God,' he gasped, 'you're fun to kiss.
So, when kiss Spring comes we'll kiss each kiss other on kiss the kiss lips because tic clocks tock don't make a toctic difference to kisskiss you and to kiss me.
If I say you're a goatherd's son, you say, 'Yes, Lord Ralon.'" Alanna gasped with fury. "I'd as soon kiss a pig! Is that what you've been doing-kissing pigs? Or being kissed?
I think it'd be fun to tour with Kiss just because Kiss is the reason I got into playing in a band.
What it was like to kiss Matt Damon? You know, it doesn't matter, does it, if it's a man or a woman. It's a kiss. We had to show affection in some places, love, passion in other places. A kiss is just a kiss. I mean, we'd have our fun. You know, "Matt, what flavour lip gloss would you like me to wear today?" When I see the movie I'm so proud that a few minutes go by and I forget that it's Matt and I, and halfway through I forget it's two guys. The arguments sound the same as arguments a guy has with his wife.
We are still not in the Rock & Roll Hall of Fame but there are 3,000 Kiss products, a Kiss musical toothbrush, everything from Kiss caskets to Kiss condoms. There are no Radiohead condoms.
I was seventeen and the star of my high school play. I was supposed to kiss my leading man, but I couldn't stand the guy. I really didn't want to kiss him. All during rehearsals, I refused to kiss him. Then my drama teacher told me, "If you don't kiss him on opening night, you'll flunk drama class. So I kissed him, and that was my first kiss.
Because a real kiss, a kiss that two real people choose to give each other - it's something that can't be filmed or photographed or drawn, or even described with words. Because a kiss isn't what it looks like or how it feels. A real kiss happens down deep inside of two hearts at the same time. It's hidden away. A real kiss is invisible.
It wasn't my first kiss, maybe it wasn't my best kiss, but it was pretty fine, and the fact that he had asked will forever make that kiss stand out in my mind, touch my heart, make me remember a kiss so tender it made me cry.
It was a kiss made in lonely dreams. A kiss that took its time. A kiss that felt so right she couldn't remember all the reasons it was wrong.
This was the kiss I had waited for so long - a kiss born by the river of our childhood, when we didn't yet know what love meant. A kiss that had been suspended in the air as we grew, that had traveled in the world in the sovenier of a medal, and that had remained hidden behind piles of books. A kiss that had been lost and now was found. In the moment of that kiss were years of searching, disillusionment and impossible dreams.
Did we kiss last night?" "Yes." "Well, it wasn't memorable because I have no recollection of it." He laughs. "I was kiddin'. We didn't kiss." He leans in. "When we kiss you'll remember it.Forever.
And this is a kiss like none before, a kiss that could overcome the dark of deep space night. It's a falling star, flame, ice. It's pure as water from a snow-fed mountain spring. This is what you dream a kiss to be. To have a kiss just like this each and every day! How satisfying life would be.
Give me a kiss, and to that kiss a score; Then to that twenty, add a hundred more: A thousand to that hundred: so kiss on, To make that thousand up a million. Treble that million, and when that is done, Let's kiss afresh, as when we first begun.
There are many different types of kisses. There's a passionate kiss of farewell - like the kind Rhett gave Scarlett when he went off to war. The kiss of I-can't-really-be-with-you-but-I-want-to-be - like with Superman and Lois Lane. There's the first kiss - one that is gentle and hesitant, warm and vulnerable. And then there's the kiss of possession - which was how Ren kissed me now.
Let no one believe that he has received the divine kiss, if he knows the truth without loving it or loves it without understanding it. But blessed is that kiss whereby not only is God recognized but also the Father is loved; for there is never full knowledge without perfect love.
Oh! might I kiss those eyes of fire, A million scarce would quench desire; Still would I steep my lips in bliss, And dwell an age on every kiss; Nor then my soul should sated be, Still would I kiss and cling to thee: Nought should my kiss from thine dissever, Still would we kiss and kiss for ever; E'en though the numbers did exceed The yellow harvest's countless seed; To part would be a vain endeavour: Could I desist? -ah! never-never.
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