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Find a guy who calls you beautiful instead of hot, who calls you back when you hang up on him, read more
Find a guy who calls you beautiful instead of hot, who calls you back when you hang up on him, who will lie under the stars and listen to your heartbeat, or will stay awake just to watch you sleep... wait for the boy who kisses your forehead, who wants to show you off to the world when you are in sweats, who holds your hand in front of his friends, who thinks you're just as pretty without makeup on. One who is constantly reminding you of how much he cares and how lucky his is to have you.... The one who turns to his friends and says, 'that's her.'
Love is the delightful interval between meeting a beautiful girl and discovering that she looks like a haddock.
Love is the delightful interval between meeting a beautiful girl and discovering that she looks like a haddock.
Love begins at home, and it is not how much we do... but how much love we put in that read more
Love begins at home, and it is not how much we do... but how much love we put in that action.
You really love him, don't you? a simple psychological question, no name was mentioned but suddenly someone came into your read more
You really love him, don't you? a simple psychological question, no name was mentioned but suddenly someone came into your mind.
I don't pretend to know what love is for everyone, but I can tell you what it is for me; read more
I don't pretend to know what love is for everyone, but I can tell you what it is for me; love is knowing all about someone, and still wanting to be with them more than any other person, love is trusting them enough to tell them everything about yourself, including the things you might be ashamed of, love is feeling comfortable and safe with someone, but still getting weak knees when they walk into a room and smile at you.
Once you care about a person, it’s impossible to be logical about them anymore.
Once you care about a person, it’s impossible to be logical about them anymore.
Nobody has ever measured, not even poets, how much the heart can hold.
Nobody has ever measured, not even poets, how much the heart can hold.
I love a hand that meets my own with a grasp that causes some sensation.
I love a hand that meets my own with a grasp that causes some sensation.
