A Quote by Gayle King
How do I love Tim McGraw? Let me count the ways: I love that he's a country boy with a city sensibility. I love that he refuses to be pegged, and his duet with Nelly proves it. And I really love that he had the brains to marry Faith Hill.
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I would love to do a duet with Tim McGraw. I think that would be fun.
Working on 'Drive', a lot of fun. This is Tim Minear whom I've worked with before on 'Firefly' of course. He called me up and said, 'I've got a part for you that you will love,' and I love Tim's writing. I love his stories. I love his characters, his dialogue. He has a knack for reveals and he has a knack for moments.
Working on Drive, a lot of fun. This is Tim Minear whom I've worked with before on Firefly of course. He called me up and said I've got a part for you that you will love and I love Tim's writing. I love his stories. I love his characters, his dialogue. He has a knack for reveals and he has a knack for moments.
There are many ways to love someone. Sometimes we want love so much, we're not too choosy about who we love. Other times, we make love such a pure and noble thing, no poor human can ever meet our vision. But for the most part, love is a recognition, an opportunity to say, "There is something about you I cherish." It doesn't entail marriage, or even physical love. There's love of parents, love of city or nation, love of life, and love of people. All different, all love.
I love my country. I love my guns. I love my family. I love the way it is now, and anybody that tries to change it has to come through me. That should be all of our attitudes. Cause this is America, and a country boy is good enough for me, son.
Love. How do we define this word? We love our family. We love food. We love the weather. We love our shoes. Love that music. Love someone's work. Love a movie. Love a celebrity. Love that time in life. Love love love!
I love the '40s. I love the '50s. I love the style, I love the clothes. I love how the women looked. I love the dances. I love the music. I love the amber of the light. I'm just in love with the cars. I'm in love with all of it.
As a married person myself, I don't know what it's like to be told I can't marry somebody I love, and want to marry, I can't imagine how that must feel. I definitely think we should all have the right to love, and love publicly, the people that we want to love.
As a married person myself, I don't know what it's like to be told I can't marry somebody I love and want to marry. I can't imagine how that must feel. I definitely think we should all have the right to love, and love publicly, the people that we want to love.
Not that she didn't love almost every boy she'd ever met, and not that every boy in the world didn't totally love her. It was impossible not to. But she wanted someone to love her and shower her with attention the way only a boy who was completely in love with her could. The rare sort of love. True love. The kind of love she'd never had.
Joy is love exalted; peace is love in response; long-suffering is love enduring; gentleness is love in society; goodness is love in action; faith is love on the battlefield; meekness is love in tough situations; and temperance is love in training.
Love is man's natural endowment, but he doesn't know how to use it. He refuses to recognize the power of love because of his love of power.
I love my job. I love fighting for what I believe in. I love having fun while doing it. I love reporting stories that the Complex refuses to report. I love fighting back, I love finding allies, and - famously - I enjoy making enemies.
D.C. is in my blood, my diction, my sensibility and style. I am, though, in love with a city that cannot fully love me back.
I profess the religion of love,
Love is my religion and my faith.
My mother is love
My father is love
My prophet is love
My God is love
I am a child of love
I have come only to speak of love.
We, drinking love at the furthest springs,
Covered with love as a covering tree,
We had grown as gods, as the gods above,
Filled from the heart to the lips with love,
Held fast in his hands, clothed warm with his wings,
O love, my love, had you loved but me!
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