Best 602 quotes in «affection quotes» category

Dork," I chastised affectionately. But his cheesy exclamation was something I was okay with. I smiled up at him. His hazels danced with mischief. "Okay," I agreed. The mischief turned to triumph. Damn those magic eyes!

Een hele mond vol,' mompelde ze, en drukte haar gezicht tegen de brede borst van haar echtgenoot. Het voelde heerlijk om op zijn kracht te steunen, al was het maar voor even, terwijl hij haar haren zacht streelde.

Emotion integrates but emotivity isolates. So free yourself from affectivity. In this absence of emotivity, you may have the impression at first that you become indifferent. But very soon you’ll see that there is really affection for your surroundings. Emotion, affection, is giving.

Every day is a miracle make it count

Fortunately I did not need affection.

Ever since she was a young girl, [Patricia Highsmith] had felt an extraordinary empathy for animals, particularly cats. The creatures, she said, 'provide something for writers that humans cannot: companionship that makes no demands or intrusions, that is as restful and ever-changing as a tranquil sea that barely moves'. Her affection for cats was 'a constant as was feline companionship wherever her domestic situation permitted,' says Kingsley. 'As for animals in general, she saw them as individual personalities often better behaved, and endowed with more dignity and honesty than humans. Cruelty to or neglect of any helpless living creature could turn her incandescent with rage.' Janice Robertson remembers how [...] Highsmith was walking through the streets of Soho when she saw a wounded pigeon lying in the gutter. 'Pat decided there and then that this pigeon should be rescued,' says Janice. 'Although I think Roland persuaded her that it was past saving, she really was distraught. She couldn't bear to see animals hurt.' Bruno Sager, Highsmith's carer at the end of her life, recalls the delicacy with which the writer would take hold of a spider which had crawled into the house, making sure to deposit it safely in her garden. 'For her human beings were strange - she thought she would never understand them - and perhaps that is why she liked cats and snails so much,' he says.

From attraction and affection Cover of perfection Failure beyond texture to a painful lesson Everything that was from the start wasn't from the heart

Growing up, you would think that love is a tangible object, that you can point or touch it. Love is not a thing, it is an aggregation of several things, like caring, assisting, sacrifice, attention, and doing whatever one has to do to protect someone dear.

Go to bed! Someone is anxious to come into your dream.

Entrambi respirarono un po' di quell'affetto che ancora resisteva tra di loro, diluito lungo centinaia di chilometri di cavi coassiali e alimentato da qualcosa di cui non sapevano il nome e che forse, se ci avessero pensato bene, non esisteva più.

He'd seen a different side of her today, he realized with pleasure, recalling the sight of her standing on the bow of the Orpheus, holding on to the shrouds with the wind in her face and a look of pure delight in her eyes. She'd been a vision with those skirts flapping wildly around her legs, so different from his long-standing perception of her. And when they rounded the point, something had awakened inside him. An emotion he'd not felt in a very long time- a deep, genuine affection that reached beyond the surface thrill of the conquest.

He despised causeless affection, just as he despised unearned wealth. They professed to love him for some unknown reason and they ignored all the things for which he could wish to be loved. He wondered what response they could hope to obtain from him in such manner—if his response was what they wanted.

He had big plans for you," I said with tears rolling down my face. "That's why it took so long." Sir Alistair stopped and looked back, looking with affection at Marco, Yipes, and me. "We all play our part. Some roles just dray on a little more than others.

He laughed and came forward impulsively to kiss her—his affection a potent thing, a flourish of light. She was smiling, her tears feeling fresh on her face. He smelled of sweat and roses. She felt it in the palms of her hands, in her loins. It was right. It was Southampton she had wanted all along.

He longed for her more than he could say. It was a wonderful thing to be able to truly want someone like this –the feeling was so real, so overpowering. He hadn’t felt this way in ages. Maybe he never had before. Not that everything about it was wonderful: his chest ached, he found it hard to breathe, and a fear, a dark oscillation, had hold of him. But now even that kind of ache had become an important part of the affection he felt. He didn’t want to let that feeling slip from his grasp. Once lost, he might never happen across that warmth again. If he had to lose it, he would rather lose himself.

He stepped down trying not to look long at her, as though she were the sun, yet he saw her as one sees the sun, without looking.

I can sense your love, why leave me in darkness? Beguile me for your amusement, stealing my soul without kisses. You are the sun and I, the moon. Your beauty is reflected in my eyes. When we are apart, I am extinguished in the blackness of these skies.

Ich bin kein Kind, ich bin nicht niedlich; warum soll man so jemanden streicheln?

i DO NOT WHY BUT i KEEP THINKING OF YOU, WHAT DID YOU EVER DO TO ME? I have tried na nikashindwa kukudelete from my system, IMEKATAA. i KNOW YOU HAVE TRIED TOO, IT LEAVES ME WONDERING WHAT IS THESE. It can only be explained by the gods.

If you like someone, you wish them well. But. If you love someone, you breathe wellness into them.

I like the word 'affection' because it signifies something habitual, and we are soon to meet to try whether we have mind enough to keep our hearts warm.

Innately affectionate, and innately afraid of unreturned affection, and indomitably unwilling to let any of that stop her.

In the Mars-and-Venus-gendered universe, men want power and women want emotional attachment and connection. On this planet nobody really has the opportunity to know love since it is power and not love that is the order of the day. The privilege of power is at the heart of patriarchal thinking. Girls and boys, men and women who have been taught this way almost always believe love is not important, or if it is, it is never as important as being powerful, dominant, in control, on top-being right. Women who give seemingly selfless adoration and care to the men in their lives appear to be obsessed with 'love,' but in actuality their actions are often a covert way to hold power. Like their male counterparts, they enter relationships speaking the words of love even as their actions indicate that maintaining power and control is their primary agenda.

[I]t is not by being richer or more powerful that a man becomes better; one is a matter of fortune, the other of virtue. Nor should she deem herself other than venal who weds a rich man rather than a poor, and desires more things in her husband than himself. Assuredly, whomsoever this concupiscence leads into marriage deserves payment rather than affection.

It is the privilege of affection to see a friend in all the situations of his soul.

It’s okay to let go,” she whispered when I had a long day. All I wanted was a cold, hard drink—something to cool my nerves and the flame inside me. “Just give yourself to me, Vinny. Don’t worry about drinking. Get drunk on me. Take me.

It's the people who know you and love you that save you.

I understood. I suffered. But whose sake was I suffering for? I kept thinking of Señor Saguaro's question: Whose affection do you value more, hers or the others'?

I use the chopsticks to outline the biggest heart possible. Then I use the Sweet'N Low packets to fill it in. I borrow some from two other tables when I run out. When I'm done, I point to the heart on the table. "This," I say, "is only about one ninety-millionth of how I feel about you." She laughs. "I'll try not to take it personally," she says. "Take what personally?" I say. "You should take it very personally." "The fact that you used artificial sweetener?" I take a Sweet'N Low and fling it at her. "Not everything is a symbol!" I shout.

I’ve come to think that flourishing consists of putting yourself in situations in which you lose self-consciousness and become fused with other people, experiences, or tasks. It happens sometimes when you are lost in a hard challenge, or when an artist or a craftsman becomes one with the brush or the tool. It happens sometimes while you’re playing sports, or listening to music or lost in a story, or to some people when they feel enveloped by God’s love. And it happens most when we connect with other people. I’ve come to think that happiness isn’t really produced by conscious accomplishments. Happiness is a measure of how thickly the unconscious parts of our minds are intertwined with other people and with activities. Happiness is determined by how much information and affection flows through us covertly every day and year.

I Wanna Hold Your Hand.’ First single. Fucking brilliant. Perhaps the most fucking brilliant song ever written. Because they nailed it. That’s what everyone wants. Not 24-7 hot wet sex. Not a marriage that lasts a hundred years. Not a Porsche or a blow job or a million-dollar crib. No. They wanna hold your hand. They have a feeling that they can’t hide.

Looking up at the stars and smoking in silence.

Love is something far more than desire for sexual intercourse; it is the principal means of escape from the loneliness which afflicts most men and women throughout the greater part of their lives. There is a deep-seated fear, in most people, of the cold world and the possible cruelty of the herd; there is a longing for affection, which is often concealed by roughness, boorishness or a bullying manner in men, and by nagging and scolding in women. Passionate mutual love while it lasts puts an end to this feeling; it breaks down the hard walls of the ego, producing a new being composed of two in one.

Love never dies but the affection/passion you have for each other may fade over time when you don't personally connect with each other.

Love requires trust, and trust requires honesty that is only got through love.

Marriage is the commodification of affection, copulation, and, reproduction.

Matters of the heart are so incalculable!

Maumivu ya matatizo ya yule aliyekukosea hayana tofauti na maumivu ya matatizo ya wewe uliyekosewa. Adui yako (kwa mfano) akifiwa na mke aliyempenda sana, atajisikia vibaya kama utakavyojisikia vibaya kufiwa na mke uliyempenda sana. Kuwa na huruma kwa waliokukosea, wakati wa shida.

Have you ever really watched him? I bet he'd found out everything about Jabbar by the time he'd talked to him for ten minutes. I bet he knows the name of every camel. And he'll remember it all. People don't take that much interest in other people, usually.' Her fingers idly traced a pattern in the sand. 'So he makes you feel important.' 'Politicians do that-' Vimes began. 'Not the way he does, believe me. I expect Lord Vetinari remembers facts about people-' 'Oh, you'd better believe that!' '-but Carrot takes an interest. He doesn't even think about it. He makes space in his head for people. He takes an interest, and so people think they're intesting. They feel... better when he's around.

.....Her eyebrows are the living example of nature.

He wasn't the type for displays of affection, either verbal or not. He was disgusted by couples that made out in the hallways between classes, and got annoyed at even the slightest sappy moments in movies. But I knew he cared about me: he just conveyed it more subtly, as concise with expressing this emotion as he was with everything else. It was in the way he'd put his hand on the small of my back, for instance, or how he'd smile at me when I said something that surprised him. Once I might have wanted more, but I'd come around to his way of thinking in the time we'd been together. And we were together, all the time. So he didn't have to prove how he felt about me. Like so much else, I should just know.

He was not his father, and this was not his work; but he was the master, and this was his masterpiece.

He wondered how it could have taken him so long to realize how much he cared for her, and he told her so, and she called him an idiot, and he declared that it was the finest thing that ever a man has been called.

His mind drifted back to times past. He missed the companionship of his old pack. He had grown up in the pack and knew each wolf by sight and smell. They had played and hunted, bred and cared for the young, and fought and died together. His bonds to the other wolves had been very close – particularly his mate. She had been the strongest and the swiftest female. She had reared their young well and had always yelped and whined with affection after he returned from the hunt. He remembered the comfort he had felt on so many starry nights, lying beside her with his head resting upon her neck in a sign of affection. However, she was gone now, and he could not bring her back. The two-legged ones had seen to that.

How do you ever hold on to anybody?

How do you make me smile when it seems like there’s nothing in the whole world to smile about?

How is it that there was never you until there was and then all was you?

Humanism is my Religion, Good is my adoption , Bad is my Elimination, Acceptance is my Decision, Love is My Gift , Relation is my Affection ,Truth is My Strength, Help Is My Credit , Knowledge is My Treasure

I crave the violence of your affection. I ache for the way it jumbles my insides and makes my heart feel like it's harboring a thunderstorm. I've never felt more alive in all my time on this earth, as I have, being underneath your touch.

I didn't find out until I became a father. You don't just LOVE your children. You FALL in love with them.