A Quote by Linda Howard

I’m going to go," he said. "All right." He didn’t move. Then: "I don’t want to." "Do it anyway." He chuckled. "You’re a hard woman, Faith Devlin." "Hardy." "I didn’t know him. He isn’t real to me. Did you love him?" "Yes." But not the way I love you. Never like that.
I'd like to be that chameleon. That's really ultimately what I want to hear from people eventually: 'I really love when I see him in stuff, but I never know he's gonna be here.' I want to be that actor that surprises you when you see him in a project, and you go, 'Yes! I love that guy. He's in this? Awesome.'
Bitterly I wondered if Hardy was going to overshadow every relationship for the rest of my life, haunting me like a ghost. I didn't know how to let him go. I'd never even had him.
Really love him, I mean," Geilie persisted. "Not just to bed him; I know you want that, and he does too. They all do. But do you love him?" Did I love him? Beyond the urges of the flesh? The hole had the dark anonymity of the confessional, and a soul on the verge of death had no time for lies. "Yes," I said, and laid my head back on my knees. It was silent in the hole for some time, and I hovered once more on the verge of sleep, when I heard her speak once more, as though to herself. "So it's possible," she said thoughtfully.
My grandpa didn't believe in hugging and kissing, or saying I love you. His love had to do with the way he treated you. When he said, We're going here, we're going there, he was telling me about life. That was his love for me. My love for him was listening to what he said, keeping out of trouble, doing right, being fair.
"Who am I, that you should love me?" "You are My Queen," said Eugenides. She sat perfectly still, looking at him without moving as his words dropped like water into dry earth. "Do you believe me?" he asked. "Yes," she answered. "Do you love me?" "Yes." "I love you." And she believed him.
Because God wants to take you in ever-increasing measures to know Him. And the only way you can know Him is by experiencing Him. So He's going to ask you to go with Him in dimensions that require more faith and more activity than you have ever used before. Otherwise you will never grow in your faith in Him. The only way you can grow in your faith in Him is to accept the next assignment which is always greater than the previous one. Don't ever feel that you will get to the place where you'll never be scared half to death.
How did I look at you? I asked thickly. Like you had to, like I was a magnet you were pulled to. There was no choice, he said. And when you look at Jack, it's because when he's around, why would you want to look at anything else? You love him the way you could never love me.
You'll always love him" he said, as if he'd read her mind. "That doesn't die just because he did, or because you now love me. Your love for him is part of who you are. It's a beautiful part, Denise. Don't be sad of it, and I will never be jealous of it". Denise's eyes overflowed again. Spade was right.
I want him to know I love him. I want him to feel that we both tried, but this was way too big for us: we aren't going to survive this. Even if I hadn't done what I did with Mal, almost all the strings of our marriage have been severed; waiting together to say goodbye is the last one. Once it has been cut, only love will remain. And it takes more than love--no matter how fervent, deep and passionate--to keep two people together.
All she saw, down in the cellar well beneath the stoop, was a light yellow feather with a tip of green. And she had never named him. Had called him "my parrot" all these years. "My parrot." "Love you. "Love you." Did the dogs get him? Or did he get the message - that she said, "My parrot" and he said, "Love you," and she had never said it back or even taken the trouble to name him - and manage somehow to fly away on wings that had not soared for six years.
And then I asked him with my eyes to ask again yes and then he asked me would I yes and his heart was going like mad and yes I said yes I will yes.
I like streaming music. I'll be in the car going, 'I want to hear Scotty Anderson.' He's a great guitar player not many people know about - maybe me and two other dudes know him. But I love him, and I can pull him up on Apple Music, and there it is, right there in my car.
There is that. I might have better luck telling him I’m in love with him. Jace thinks everyone’s in love with him anyway.” “But I,” said Clary, “actually am.
I love you; I love you and I don’t care that you’re my sister; don’t be with him, don’t want him, don’t go with him. Be with me. Want me. Stay with me. I don’t know how to be without you.
Miles Davis came in a couple of days and said, "Oh, man, I love that. Keep going." So he said, "Let me know when you need trumpet." And he came in, and he was sitting there, and I was very intimidated, because now he's going to play the trumpet on something that I wrote." He starts to play, and I go, "That's not right, but I don't know how to tell him it's not right." Finally he goes, "When are you going to tell me what to do?" He said, "This is your music. I know you know how it's supposed to sound. Stop fooling around. We don't have time."
Love the Lord and in him love me too. And in him, go your own way and I'll be right here with you.
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