Butterflies In Stomach Love Quotes

Kind of like love before first sight.” and “Butterflies in your stomach. That was such a crappy metaphor. More like killer bees.

Feeling in love (or lust) and fear feel a lot alike. They both give you that anxious butterfly feeling in your stomach, a sense of excitement, and a general unease physically and mentally. It's easy to confuse love with fear.

Me plus you. (Imma tell you one time) Me plus you. (Imma tell you one time) Me plus you. (Imma tell you one time) One time. When I met ya girl my heart when knock (knock knock) Now them butterflies in my stomach won't stop (stop stop) Even love is a struggle and it's all we got. So we gun keep keep climbing to the mountain top. 'Cause your world, is my world, and my breath is your breath, and my heart is yours...

I smiled back as he walked away, but all the lovely butterflies in my stomach landed one by one in a cold, dead heap.

Then she did something that really surprised me. She blinked back tears and put out her arms. I stepped forward and hugged her. Butterflies started turning my stomach into a mosh pit. "Hey, it's... it's okay." I patted her back. I was aware of everything in the room. I felt like I could read the tiniest print on any book on the shelves. Annabeth's hair smelled like lemon soap. She was shivering.

Somewhere someone thinks they love someone else exactly like I love you. Somewhere someone shakes from the ripple of a thousand butterflies inside a single stomach. Somewhere someone is packing their bags to see the world with someone else. Somewhere someone is reaching through the most terrifying few feet of space to hold the hand of someone else. Somewhere someone is watching someone else’s chest rise and fall with the breath of slumber. Somewhere someone is pouring ink like blood onto pages fighting to say the truth that has no words. Somewhere someone is waiting patient but exhausted to just be with someone else. Somewhere someone is opening their eyes to a sunrise in someplace they have never seen. Somewhere someone is pulling out the petals twisting the apple stem picking up the heads up penny rubbing the rabbits foot knocking on wood throwing coins into fountains hunting for the only clover with only 4 leaves skipping over the cracks snapping the wishbone crossing their fingers blowing out the candles sending dandelion seeds into the air ushering eyelashes off their thumbs finding the first star and waiting for 11:11 on their clock to spend their wishes on someone else. Somewhere someone is saying goodbye but somewhere someone else is saying hello. Somewhere someone is sharing their first or their last kiss with their or no longer their someone else. Somewhere someone is wondering if how they feel is how the other they feels about them and if both theys could ever become a they together. Somewhere someone is the decoder ring to all of the great mysteries of life for someone else. Somewhere someone is the treasure map. Somewhere someone thinks they love someone else exactly like I love you. Somewhere someone is wrong.

It was a completely new feeling for me–like someone had just released a million, tiny butterflies loose in my stomach, and they were feverishly flying up into my head and making me lose my mind.

...but love isn’t always roses and rainbows and butterflies in your stomach. It’s equally cruel and painful and the world’s worst villain.

A flock of butterflies riots in my stomach and steals my breath.

Love fades with time. Sex becomes routine. You pretend to be in love with the person you once loved with all your heart. You have to make compromises. Romance doesn’t last. The person you fell in love with eventually won’t give you butterflies in your stomach anymore. You want them out of your life, but you can’t get the words to come out of your mouth.

And she loved the way he made her feel, the way her heart beat when he was near, the electricity she felt at his touch, and the nervous butterflies he always caused in her stomach.

The butterflies swirl again in Sera’s stomach. Perhaps they have brought along fireflies too, to light up her soul.

If there’s a physical component to falling in love—the butterflies in your stomach, the roller coaster of your soul—then there’s an equal physical component to falling out of love. It feels like your lungs are sieves, so you can’t get enough air. Your insides freeze solid. Your heart becomes a tiny, bitter pearl, a chemical reaction to one irritating grain of truth.

Those rose-tinted glasses look good on you, Sunshine." Sunshine? I was sure he meant that mockingly, but the butterflies in my stomach stirred to life anyway, fanning away my anger. Traitors.

We humans have known since time immemorial something that science is only now discovering: our gut feeling is responsible in no small measure for how we feel. We are “scared shitless” or we can be “shitting ourselves” with fear. If we don’t manage to complete a job, we can’t get our “ass in gear.” We “swallow” our disappointment and need time to “digest” a defeat. A nasty comment leaves a “bad taste in our mouth.” When we fall in love, we get “butterflies in our stomach.” Our self is created in our head and our gut—no longer just in language, but increasingly also in the lab.

Something light and velvety brushed against my heart…and fluttered. Just once, but it was enough for me to identify it. A butterfly. No, no, no. I loved animals, I truly did, but I could not have a butterfly living in my stomach. Not for Rhys Larsen. It needed to die immediately.

Love it’s always roses and rainbows and butterflies in your stomach. It’s equally cruel and painful and the world’s worst villain.

I never got over that," he murmured, breaking away just long enough for a breath. I slid my hands up his chest. "What?" "How well you kiss. Over the last seven years," he went on, resting his forehead against mine, "I went on so many dates, I kissed so many people, I tried to fall in love again and again, and all I could think about was you." I wasn't sure what to say. "All seven years?" "Two thousand five hundred and fifty-five days. Not that I was counting," he added, because clearly he had been, and that made the butterflies in my stomach awfully happy. Seven years—seven whole years.

There was no way those things in my stomach were butterflies. The beating wings in my stomach definitely belonged to an eagle.

In all honesty, he’s most likely going to get sex somewhere else if he’s not getting it from you. This is still GOOD! While he’s using some other woman for sex, he’s thinking about you and what it will take to get you to be his girl. She’ll be the quick piece of ass and you’ll be the woman that gives him butterflies in his stomach. He’ll use her for sex, while you’re receiving flowers and going out on nice dates. She’ll be the one hurt in the end, while you’ll be “the one” who made him fall in love.

Michael leaned in, his voice turning low and heavy. “And how about me?” I swallowed, still studying my drink. What song described him? What band? That was like trying to pick one food to eat for the rest of your life. “Disturbed,” I said, naming the band and still looking down at the glass. He said nothing. Only remained still before finally sitting back and tipping his drink up to his lips. Butterflies swarmed in my stomach, and I kept my breathing even. “Drowning Pool, Three Days Grace, Five Finger Death Punch,” I continued, “Thousand Foot Krutch, 10 Years, Nothing More, Breaking Benjamin, Papa Roach, Bush…” I paused, exhaling nice and slow despite the way my heart drummed. “Chevelle, Skillet, Garbage, Korn, Trivium, In This Moment…” I drifted off, peace settling over me as I looked up at him. “You’re in everything.

None of you understand what love really is. It's not lust, or dependence, or infatuation, or familiarity. Love isn't a fondness or butterflies in your stomach." "Then what is it?" Elis managed to ask. "Love is the degree to which you are willing to sacrifice your own interests for those of another.

I can't tell you what love is, I really don't know that there's a concrete definition for it. But I can tell you what love is to me. When I was younger it was the way I got butterflies in the pit of my stomach every time your name was mentioned, it was the way my mind only wanted to think of you; daydream of you. The way I yearned for you and laughed louder when I was with you. You made me feel safe, cherished and happy despite my unhappiness. (...) Love is knowing that one day when I'm old and my body aches, my heart won't, because I'll be with you.

I wonder if this is what falling in love sounds like. Like butterfly wings in my ears and trumpets in my stomach and like the pound of bass in my chest.

The chrysalis moves in my solar plexus fulfilling its mission to quietly emerge... then I see you and a thousand butterflies migrate into my heart.

So…” I start. “I… You wanted me to stop by?” Just so we’re clear, he’s still melting my insides with a single look, and I’m still a babbling idiot who can’t form a sentence. Xavier moves closer to me, a single whiff of his cologne enough to make my knees buckle. “No,” he shocks me by saying. My jaw hangs limply. “I wanted you to come and stay,” he corrects, and a herd of murderous butterflies assault my stomach. “Stay tonight?” He moves closer again. “Forever,” he says unapologetically. I avoid his gaze. “Xav, I—” “Don’t fucking go, Vee.” He cuts to the chase, cupping my face in his hands without a single thought as to the possibility of people seeing us. “I know this is shitty, and complicated, and it’d be easier for you to get on that plane, but… I don’t want easy—fuck easy. I want you. I love you, Vee,” he croaks, pressing his forehead flush to mine. “Just… stay.

There's a difference between being in love and being horny. When you are horny you want release, when you are in love, you don't want to be released, you just want to stay there in that state forever.

I thought love was supposed to be weak knees and butterflies in your stomach and a terrible longing that could never be quenched." Eeny shook her head, chuckled, came over and embraced me. "No, child", she said gently, patting my back. "That's romance. Romance is build on doubt. Love is solid. Constant. If you're not careful, you might mistake it for bein' boring because it's so reliable. Love is warm and deep and comfortable, just right, so you float in peacefully without ever being scalded or frozen, like a perfect, relaxing bubble bath.

[...] “What were you going to do if he’d refused ?” Jaenelle looked at him and smiled. Butterflies filled his stomach and tickled unmercifully before turning into heavy, sinking stones. “Well,” his darling said, “you have a wonderful deep voice too. So if Papa refused, I was going to ask you.” Saetan walked into the sitting room where he’d asked Geoffrey and Draca, the Keep’s Seneschal, to meet him. “My friends, this bottle of wine arrived this evening, compliments of Prince Sadi. Since it came from the wine cellar at the Hall, I can assure you it is a very fine vintage, one best enjoyed when shared.” He called in three glasses and opened the wine. Draca said nothing until he handed her a glass. “What iss the occassion ?” Saetan grinned. “My son has just realized how much his father loves him.

In the beginning of our love lives, it is the beastly instinct of sexual attraction that drives us all. The butterflies in your stomach simply signal your mind that the person in front of you would make a fantastic mate to make babies with. Without this primeval drive, you won’t ever fall for anyone in your entire lifetime. The very attraction you feel towards a person in a romantic way, is a mental manifestation of a subconscious desire to mate with that person.

No part of me believes," I say, "that you struggle with first impressions." He brushes his thick hair up off his forehead, and it stays there, all except that one strand, of course, which is determined to fall sensually across his eyebrow. "Maybe you make me a little nervous." "Yeah, right," I say, spine tingling. "Just because you don't see me grabbing a mop every time you walk into a room doesn't mean I don't notice you're there." It feels like a bowling ball has landed in my stomach, a sudden drop. Then come the butterflies.

It was just a quick touch of his lips and it left her breathless, as always. In that moment his kiss infuriated her. This was only supposed to happen in the movies! It was a feeling designed by books! She wasn’t supposed to feel her lungs seize and butterflies were not supposed to run rampant in her stomach, just because a man pressed his lips to her lips

My stomach fluttered. Not butterflies, just excitement. I loved motorcycles.

From the very first moment I saw you, "Hi." "Hi." My heart has raced with adrenaline. Stomach full of butterflies and one mind hopelessly full of love.

Stupid, love-sick butterflies took flight in my stomach, and I cursed every moronic one of them. Fucking butterflies never thought with their heads.

There was knock on the door and I knew it was Romeo. Butterflies took flight in my stomach as I went to answer. I was so nervous about tonight. Romeo’s eyes widened when I pulled back the door. He whistled beneath his breath. “Holy shit, Smalls.” “Do I look okay?” I worried. “Think your mother will approve?” Romeo reached out and grabbed me by the waist. “You don’t have to impress her. I don’t want or need her approval. You’re my girl. The end.” “No take backs?” I whispered. He smiled. “No take backs.

Those rose-tinted glasses look good on you, Sunshine.” Sunshine? I was sure he meant that mockingly, but the butterflies in my stomach stirred to life anyway, fanning away my anger. Traitors. “Thanks. You can borrow them. You need them more than I do,” I said pointedly. A low chuckle slipped from his throat, and I almost fell to the floor in shock. Tonight was turning out to be a night of firsts. Alex’s hand trailed up my spine until it rested on the back of my neck, leaving a cascade of tingles in their wake. “I feel it dripping all over me.” He did not—what? An inferno consumed my body. “You’re—you—no, I’m not!” I sputtered, pushing him away and scrambling off him. My core pulsed. Oh my God, what if I was? I couldn’t look, afraid I’d see a telltale wet spot on his jeans. I’d have to move to Antarctica. Build myself an ice cave and learn to speak penguin because I could never show my face in Hazelburg, D.C., or any city where I could run into Alex Volkov again. His chuckle blossomed into a full-blown laugh. The effect of his real smile was so devastating, even amid my mortification, that all I could do was stare at the way his face lit up and the sparkle that transformed his eyes from beautiful to downright breathtaking. Holy crap. Perhaps I should be grateful he never smiled, because if that was what he looked like while doing it…womankind didn’t stand a chance. “I’m talking about your bleeding heart,” he drawled. “What did you think I was talking about?” “I—you—” Forget Antarctica. I had to move to Mars. Alex’s laughter subsided, but the twinkle in his eyes remained.

You've had ample opportunity to send me up the river… you could've easily gotten me locked up long ago just by opening your mouth. I didn't need to marry you to gain your silence. You've given it to me from the start. If you didn't turn on me then, when you had plenty of reason to, I trust that you won't do it now, ring or no ring. I married you, Karissa, because I love you. Nothing more, nothing less." As many times as he's said those words… I love you… it still makes my stomach flutter to hear them come from him. The butterflies soar. He's not an outwardly emotional person, not at all, so when he says it, I know he means it. Wrapping my arms around his neck, I reach up on my tiptoes and kiss him. His lips are soft, sweet. His tongue tastes like peppermint. "I love you, too, you know." "I know.

Those rose-tinted glasses look good on you, Sunshine.” Sunshine? I was sure he meant that mockingly, but the butterflies in my stomach stirred to life anyway, fanning away my anger. Traitors. “Thanks. You can borrow them. You need them more than I do,” I said pointedly. A low chuckle slipped from his throat, and I almost fell to the floor in shock. Tonight was turning out to be a night of firsts. Alex’s hand trailed up my spine until it rested on the back of my neck, leaving a cascade of tingles in their wake. “I feel it dripping all over me.

The butterflies were performing circus tricks now, flying through hoops of fire. Lexi had read about infatuation once. Some writer had doused the romantic notion of winged insects. He'd said the funny feeling was simply the motion of common sense fleeing the body. It made more sense, in a world where few things did. Lexi smiled, reveling in the feeling.

What can I do for you?” I had no idea why he’d want to speak to me, but my heart was thudding and the butterflies in my stomach were going crazy. “Well,” he began. “I was wondering if you’d come to dinner with me.” “Me,” I gasped. Dex chuckled. “Yeah you, Katie.” “Are you sure you mean me?” He full on laughed. “Yeah, darlin’, I do mean you.” “I…I don’t…I’d love to.

She’s Uncle Terry’s sissy.” That crooked grin appeared on his lips. It affected me as much now as it had then. “Yeah, I know who she is, doll.” He looked to me and the look on his face was pure affection. “I’ve known Hadley for a good long while.” My brain gave permission for my stomach to release more butterflies. I wanted to ask him to stop looking at me like that. No, affectionate glances were definitely not allowable.

Love is supposed to be a fire, an all-consuming passion that keeps you up at night. A state of being that drives you crazy because you wake to thoughts of her, and end the day, and end the day with the same. Love is marked by sighs and stars. With songs and butterflies that make your stomach flip and flutter when she looks at you. You feel nervous and excited at the same time. You just want to be near her. You don’t even care if you’re doing anything – just sitting next to her is good enough.

My throat raw with emotion, I said, “I thought love was supposed to be weak knees and butterflies in your stomach and a terrible longing that could never be quenched.” Eeny shook her head, chuckled, came over and embraced me. “No, child,” she said gently, patting my back. “That’s romance. Romance is built on doubt. Love is solid. Constant. If you’re not careful, you might mistake it for bein’ boring because it’s so reliable. Love is warm and deep and comfortable, just right, so you float in it peacefully without ever being scalded or frozen, like a perfect, relaxing bubble bath. “But it’s also fierce and strong and demands all the best parts of you, the parts that are giving and honest and true. Love makes you a better person. It makes you want to be a better person. You know it’s love when you feel comfortable just as you are, when you feel seen and understood, when you know you could tell all your darkest truths and they’d be accepted without judgement.” Eeny pulled away and gently smoothed a hand over my hair. “Love isn’t butterflies, boo. It isn’t weak knees. It’s a pride of lions. It’s a pack of wolves. It’s ‘I’ve got your back even if it costs me my own life,’ because unlike romance that fizzles at the first sign of trouble, love will fight to the death. When it’s love, you’ll go to war to avenge even the slightest offense. And you’ll be justified. “Because of all the marvelous and terrible things we can experience in this life, love is the only one that will last beyond it.

He finally returned my gaze, and held it. A knot lodged in my throat, because he was closer than I expected, and his eyelashes were darker than I expected, and long, and there was a gray rim around the inside of his irises that looked like crowns of storm clouds surrounding a peridot. His gaze made the butterflies in my stomach shake off their hibernation and want to remember how to flutter again. Oh yes, he had to be the main character. Book boyfriend material, once someone fixed him up. But then: Where was his heroine?

I love you too,” she replied, her breath catching in her throat. She realized then that she always had. She couldn’t remember falling in love with Matt. She hadn’t had the butterflies in her stomach, the giddy absorption of falling in love. It hadn’t been like that. She’d just seen him, and suddenly it had all clicked into place. She’d always been in love with him, and had been quietly, patiently, waiting for him to turn up. Perhaps once there had been a time when she wasn’t tied to him with every molecule of her being, but it was so long ago it was impossible to remember.

My throat raw with emotion, I said, “I thought love was supposed to be weak knees and butterflies in your stomach and a terrible longing that could never be quenched.” Eeny shook her head, chuckled, came over and embraced me. “No, child,” she said gently, patting my back. “That’s romance. Romance is built on doubt. Love is solid. Constant. If you’re not careful, you might mistake it for bein’ boring because it’s so reliable. Love is warm and deep and comfortable, just right, so you float in it peacefully without ever being scalded or frozen, like a perfect, relaxing bubble bath. “But it’s also fierce and strong and demands all the best parts of you, the parts that are giving and honest and true. Love makes you a better person. It makes you want to be a better person. You know it’s love when you feel comfortable just as you are, when you feel seen and understood, when you know you could tell all your darkest truths and they’d be accepted without judgement.” Eeny pulled away and gently smoothed a hand over my hair. “Love isn’t butterflies, boo. It isn’t weak knees. It’s a pride of lions. It’s a pack of wolves. It’s ‘I’ve got your back even if it costs me my own life,’ because unlike romance that fizzles at the first sign of trouble, love will fight to the death. When it’s love, you’ll go to war to avenge even the slightest offense. And you’ll be justified. “Because of all the marvelous and terrible things we can experience in this life, love is the only one that will last beyond it.

It’s so cute, isn’t it?” Arianna said dreamily. “Are we seeing the same creature? It’s like a demented goat with a bone growth.” “You’re going to hurt its feelings! Now shut up and sit on the ground.” I did as I was told, sticking my ankle out. “How is it going to heal me?” I asked, suddenly nervous. I pictured it licking my ankle and gagged. I could only imagine the diseases unicorn saliva had or what it carried around in its filthy, matted beard and hair. Bleating reproachfully, it stared at me with its doleful, square-pupiled brown eyes. “Oh, fine. Great, glorious unicorn, beloved of oblivious girls everywhere, please heal me. Now, if you don’t mind.” With one last bat of its gunk-crusted eyelashes, it lowered its head and put its stubby horn against my ankle. I cringed, waiting for pain, but felt instead tingling warmth spread out, almost like having butterflies in my stomach. Only in my ankle. Butterflies . . . with rainbows. The feeling of wholeness and well-being spread up my leg and into my entire body, and I couldn’t stop grinning. The forest was beautiful! The tree branches, naked against the brightening sky, held unimaginable wonders. The hard-packed dirt beneath me was a treasure trove of unrealized potential, lovely for what it could eventually give life to. I could sit out here forever and just enjoy nature. I was so happy! And rainbows! Why did I keep thinking of rainbows? Who cared! Rainbows were totally awesome! And the unicorn! I beamed at it, reaching out my hand to stroke it. There was never a creature more beautiful, more majestic. I’d spend the rest of my life out here, and we’d prance around the forest, worship the sunlight, bathe in the moonlight, and . . . I shook my head, scattering the idiotic warm fuzzies that had invaded. “Whoa,” I said, shoving the unicorn’s head away. “That’s enough of that.” I looked down at my ankle, which was now completely healed, not even a scar left. I fixed a stern look on the unicorn. “I am not going to frolic in an eternal meadow of sunshine and moonlight with you, you rotten little fink. But thanks.” I smiled, just enough to be nice without being too encouraging, and patted it quickly on the head. I was going to soak that hand in bleach. “Okay, let’s get out of here.” I stood, testing my ankle and relieved with the utter lack of pain. I still had an irrational desire to do an interpretive dance about rainbows, but it was a small price to pay for being healed.

So,” Cole says. “Did you decide on a name yet?” Before I can answer, everyone starts speaking at once. “You should name him Jace after your favorite brother.” Cole shoots Jace a dirty look. “You should name him Cole after your good-looking brother.” Dylan gives me a rueful grin. “Dylan is a great boy’s name, too. Just saying.” Sawyer nudges her in the ribs. “So is Sawyer.” Oakley and I exchange a humorous glance. “Okay,” Oakley declares, rubbing his hands together. “The bidding starts at fifty dollars.” After pulling out his wallet, Jace slaps some money on the tray table. “I got a hundred for Jace, right here.” Cole shoves some bills into Oakley’s hands. “I got two hundred for Cole.” Wayne reaches inside his pocket. “Do you take credit?” “Sorry, Pops. Cash only.” Fanning the money in his hand, Oakley looks around the room. “Any more takers?” Dylan pulls some money out of her bra. “Yup. Four hundred for Dylan.” “Well, I didn’t bring my checkbook with me.” Smiling smugly, Sawyer pats her stomach. “But we are having a girl and a boy. Perhaps we can work out an exchange.” Jace glowers. “That’s not fair.” “It’s called bartering, bro.” Reaching over, Cole high-fives his wife. “And that right there is just one reason I love you so much, Bible Thumper. You’re so fucking smart.” Oakley’s shoveling the money into his wallet when a nurse waltzes in. “Hi, Bianca. I’m the lactation nurse. Do you think you’re ready to try breastfeeding yet?” Jace makes a face. “And that’s my cue to leave.” Cole shakes his head. “Not me. I’m not leaving until I know my nephew’s name is Cole.” I’m shifting to get into a more comfortable position when I notice the blue, green, orange, and purple butterflies scattered across the nurse’s scrubs. My chest swells and I look over at Oakley who’s smiling. There’s only one name that feels right. “Liam,” we whisper at the same time.

Drake: "I know it;s love because I think of you night and day. I miss you when you are sitting right next to me. When I look at you my heart races and my stomach turns in the best and worst way possible. When I'm with you I feel complete, I feel whole. When I'm away from you it;s hard to breathe. When I think of my life without you I panic and tears fill my eyes. Before I met you, I didn't think I had much of a future besides being CEO at Baylor. I look at you, Morgan, and am filled with beautiful optimism at all of the things my future could have, and that is because i see you right there with me. I want to marry you, Morgan, I want to have children with you. You are my best friend, my confidant, my everything. To me that's love. You say you love me, Morgan, is that how you feel?" I ask hopefully. "Yes," Morgan says, as a confident smile crosses her face and tears fill her eyes. "Yes, that is exactly how I feel. I love you, Drake, you are my everything,

The perfect girl what can I say; to be so close yet, feel miles away. I want to run to her, but have to walk out the door going the other way. The only words spoken to her are- ‘Have a nice day.’ I think about her and the summer, and what it could have been with her. It reminds me of- sixteen, you are on my mind all the time. I think about you. It is like a vision of the stars shining, ribbon wearing, bracelet making, and holding hands forever. All the sunflowers in the hayfields and kissing in the rain, no more brick walls, no more falling teardrops of pain, and no more jigsaw puzzle pieces would remain. True love should not be such a game; does she feel the same. She is everything that I cannot have, and everything I lack. What if every day could be like this- Diamond rings, football games, and movies on the weekends? It is easy to see she belongs to me; she is everything that reminds me of ‘sixteen’ everything that is in my dreams. Everything she does is amazing, but then again, I am just speculating, and fantasizing about Nevaeh Natalie, who just turned the age of sixteen! Nevaeh- I recall my first boy kiss was not at all, what I thought it was going to be like. I was wearing a light pink dress, and flip-flops that were also pink with white daisy flowers printed on them. I loosened my ponytail and flipped out my hair until my hair dropped down my back, and around my shoulders. That gets A guy going every time, so I have read online. He was wearing ripped-up jeans and a Led Zeppelin t-shirt. He said that- ‘My eyes sparkled in blue amazement, which was breathtaking, that he never saw before.’ Tell me another line… I was thinking, while Phil Collins ‘Take Me Home’ was playing in the background. I smiled at him, he began to slowly lean into me, until our lips locked. So, enjoy, he kissed me, and my heart was all aflutter. When it happened, I felt like I was floating, and my stomach had butterflies. My eyes fastened shut with no intentions of me doing so during the whole thing. When my eyes unfastened my feelings of touch engaged, and I realized that his hands are on my hips. His hands slowly moved up my waist, and my body. I was trembling from the exhilaration. Plus, one thing led to another. It was sort of my first time, kissing and playing with him you know a boy, oh yet not really, I had gotten to do some things with Chiaz before like, in class as he sat next to me. I would rub my hand on it under the desks- yeah, he liked that, and he would be. Oh, how could I forget this… there was this one time in the front seat of his Ford pickup truck, we snuck off… and this was my first true time gulping down on him, for a lack of a better term. As I had my head in his lap and was about to move up for him to go in me down there, I was about to get on top and let him in me. When we both heard her this odd, yet remarkably loud scream of bloody murder! Ava was saying- ‘You too were going to fuck! What the fuck is going on here? Anyways, Ava spotted us before he got to ‘Take me!

Blake smiles—a full, megawatt smile that has my stomach fluttering like the butterflies in there are fucking drunk. Seriously, those bitches are bumping into each other and knocking over tables and shit.

I wanted to tell you I loved you, but the butterflies in my stomach swarmed my throat, and all the words got caught in their wings.

Molly dove onto the floor with the dish towel, crawling awkwardly with her bustle bouncing above her. Bailey met her midway under the table. “It was only a wink,” he whispered. “No reason to drench me.” Molly tilted her head up, inches from his face. Why, oh why, did her heart have to beat like a hummingbird’s wings? Why couldn’t her anger prevent the fluttering in her stomach? Fluttering or no, his unsettling smile must be dispelled. Lifting the saturated dish towel over his head, she squeezed it, sending a cascade of dirty tea rolling down his face. “I have every reason to drench you,” she cooed and willed the butterflies to calm before she rose to help her shocked hostess.

I thought about how puny humans are in comparison to the vast expanse of space and yet how much of our lives and wellbeing we base on one another. I thought about how human love has the power to make us feel on top of the world and send butterflies racing through our stomachs. How it also has the power to break our hearts, causing depression and overwhelming sadness. But if human love is that powerful when it’s placed at the center of our lives, what could the love of God do? If a human who is inestimably small can make or break our world, what could the love of the God who created the infinite expanse of space do if it were placed at our core?

You know the sensation you get when you like someone? A simple smile will turn your legs into jelly, a touch will send butterflies fluttering around in your stomach, and your heart begins to race. Your words also become a jumbled mess around them.

His heart began to thump like a piston, punching him in the stomach with a fist full of butterflies.

The husky way he said my name sent a fresh wave of butterflies careening around my stomach. I wanted to hear my name on his lips every day. Sighing, I let go, acknowledging what was in my heart. Luke. I loved Luke. Acknowledging the emotion, naming it, helped to conquer my fear, filling me with a new confidence as he smiled down at me.

While I may not have felt the flutter of butterflies in my stomach from a romantic encounter, I am well-versed in the transformative power of love and its ability to create ripples of kindness and compassion.

I never thought I’d be capable of loving someone as much as I do you. So maybe, if you can teach me.” My heart stops, and I can’t breathe. Butterflies flitter throughout my stomach. “Did you just say you love me, Alek?” “Is it so wrong?” he asks. “I just can’t let you go. I refuse. I will make every promise, take every vow, and tell you I love you every day, just to remind you how right it is for me to stand by your side. We’re made for each other, Lena. I always thought killing was my only purpose in this life, until I met you.

Ready to give me your lethal vows, wife.” And I can’t help but smirk as that word leaves his mouth. Who knew it would create butterflies in my stomach. Who knew I’d love this man with everything I am? He did. That’s who. Asshole.

None of you understand what love really is. It's not lust, or dependence, or infatuation, or familiarity. Love isn't a fondness or butterflies in your stomach." "Then what is it?" Elis managed to ask. "Love is the degree to which you are willing to sacrifice your own interests for those of another.

The butterflies in my stomach are out of control. There is fire in my veins. And want so dangerous I fear I might become addicted to this feeling. To him.

Tell me that you’re happy with your life that you don’t crave my touch, my kisses, the way I used to whisper in your ear. Tell me that when you see me, your heart doesn’t race, that butterflies don’t flutter in your stomach, that the moment you see me, your world isn’t right. Because every time I see you, everything is right in my world. I crave you, I need you, and I’ll die proving to you that I’m a man that deserves you. When things went to hell for me, you were the only thing that kept me alive. Your memory kept me sane and has driven me to become a man. This time, Julia, I’m not letting you walk away and I’ll fight for us. Even if I have to fight for the both of us, I’ll fight till my dying breath to show you I deserve you.

I turned my wrist over and smiled at my very own butterfly imbedded artfully and permanently into my skin. It was simple…just a black outline...a cookie cutter tattoo.  At least that was what Max had called it. Gently I traced the outline and remembered the day I got it. I was just eighteen, and scared to death, but I wanted it so badly. To make me feel better, Max decided to get one as well. It would be his sixth tattoo…not his first time under the ink gun. He was a pro in my eyes and so having him there helped. He teased me about my choice saying I was too girly, but when the work was done, he had looked at me with admiration. “It suits you,” he had whispered. “It’s pretty and uncomplicated…just like you.” He’d leaned in and kissed me gently. I can still feel the scrape of his stubble and the warmth of his lips. The hazel eyes were earnest, as he pulled away. “What did you get?” I had asked, still overwhelmed by him. That crooked grin set the butterflies to flight in my stomach. He’d chuckled and went for the hem of his shirt, lifting it up on the left side. I’d seen the beautiful angel he had gone back time and time again to be finished. It was a twist of wings and shadows and it raveled down the entire rib cage ending just at his hip. It was a masterpiece.  I had admired it for an instant before I noticed the change. I had covered my mouth and gasped in surprise. Woven into one of the angel’s wings was my name.

Love in the heart tingles the stomach - Kissing with butterfly wings on the lips - Seen star for star, millions of stars.

Those butterflies that are in our stomachs, aren't butterflies they are our hearts getting so full of love that just, at some point explodes and then fills our whole stomach and body with love.

A ball of fire rolled through my stomach, catching on the wings of the butterflies darting around in there and setting them up in a blaze. I bristled as Carter’s grin brushed mine, lips just barely touching. Any closer and we’d be kissing for real, plunging straight off this knife edge we balanced on.

There was no room in his head right now for self-doubt — nor that heartbreaking scene not twenty minutes past, when, after getting ready for the match, he'd come downstairs to find Juliet silently packing her trunk, tears running down her set-in-stone face... It seemed unreal. It could not be happening to him. She could not be leaving him, not when everything had been so good between them, not when she'd just told him she loved him, not when he was risking everything he had — his health, his reputation, his life — to win Swanthorpe back for his family and provide a home for the two people he loved most in this world. Damn it, I need you Juliet!  Please — oh, God, please — come to your senses; please have faith in me; please, please, please be at the house when I get back. And as the butterflies began to beat against his stomach, he realized he was not afraid of facing or losing to the Butcher. He was afraid of losing his wife. His dear wife, whom he loved more than life itself.

The very first few days when you actually start having symptoms of falling for someone special, are the days of heavenly bliss and unreasonable madness. This specific “madness” is one of the most rudimentary elements of the foundation of love. Along comes “Euphoria”. It feels like you have grown wings and you can fly around without a single care in the world. Everything starts to seem beautiful and better. The sun shines a bit brighter and the birds twitter a little louder and sweeter. As if you are stuck in an enchanting dream. You get butterflies in your stomach whenever the special person casts a blazing gaze upon you. And off course you all know about the thumping of heart and dilation of pupils.

Drake and Jake stand in the garage as I finish the long walk up the driveway. The chill of my skin evaporates the moment his intense eyes connect with mine. Electricity, present from day one. heats my insides, awakening a thousand butterflies in my stomach. I stand in the rain, not moving another inch, and he doesn't move or smile, either. He just remains stock still with his feet frozen to the garage floor. His eyes are intense, almost pleading to hear what I have to say.

When your heart was broken. What happened to the butterflies? Did they all drown in your tears? When no more of love’s words were spoken. Could you hear their endless cries?

Last night you asked me to fall apart for you, to show you how I’ve always felt for you, and I did. I hate you for it, but I did. And you did what you always do, push me away and act like it means nothing. Maybe it does because that would make it simple. But you should know it doesn’t mean nothing to me, no matter how much I want it to. Because I can hate you for everything you’ve done and everything you’ll probably continue to do, but you’re still the only man who can breathe life into those painful, hopeful butterflies I always fall for. Right. Here.” My fingers curl into a fist and I press it against my stomach, trying to contain the fluttering fighting to get out. “And I hate you for it. I really do.

Sunshine? I was sure he meant that mockingly, but the butterflies in my stomach stirred to life anyway, fanning away my anger. Traitors.

I loved animals, I truly did, but I could not have a butterfly living in my stomach. Not for Rhys Larsen. It needed to die immediately.

I believed that I would be serving the devil if I allowed myself to listen to the thoughts and feelings inside me that were telling me something was amiss. The fact that I never did achieve peace with Lamori and her cruel treatment of others is a testament to the fact that my body knew that something was not right. The butterflies in my stomach never stopped. They wouldn’t back down no matter what I told them with my logical head. I thought they were harbingers of doom indicating my evil nature, but they were simply trying to get my attention.

You are little, just a baby, and butterflies flutter in your stomach. You do not understand. "What is happening?" you ask, but your inexperienced mind can't explain. You can't ask others -- you don't know, not yet, how to put it in words. You grow up, and now you have learned many words for it. But you have also learned not to talk about it. Living your life has become daunting ... exhausting. Your family worries, so you pretend to be alright. You gather courage and talk to those who will listen. Sometimes they don't judge, they try to empathise. They try hard, but they fail. You feel more frustrated, more lonely. It never goes away, You are high and happy, then you think of it, and slowly your happiness fades. You are low and sad, and you feel relieved. You know it is going to happen, you can't help but feel this way. It gets suppressed, but it is there. You are afraid, cautious, for you know it is going to resurface, When you are least expecting. Like a beast lurking at the edge, ready to pull you into the dark abyss. It strikes in that one unsuspecting moment. You don't want to kill yourself, Because it will hurt the people you love. But you really really ... really wish you never existed. Then one day you stand against it. Whether you like it or not, you are here ... you exist. If everything is meaningless, then why should you be afraid. So you decide to fight ... to write…. But this dread never goes away.

Like It Was You've waited so long for someone who can laugh with even when you're sad Someone you can be at peace with, even with a stomach full of butterflies And as you are searching the great sea of darkness for a flicker of light there is someone who is searching for you One day you will find refuge in another, and they will learn to know your heart like it was their own

I kept my mouth closed but continued to stretch out across Hendrix. I scratched my fingernails lightly up his side and arched my back, pressing my body into his. I was mostly trying to irritate him, but he grabbed my waist with two hands and flipped me over so that he loomed above me. “Are you trying to kill me, Reagan?” he demanded in a husky morning voice that revealed he was just waking up, too. I shook my head and pressed my lips together. Someone would have to threaten to shoot me before I spoke to this man without brushing my teeth first. “Then what are you doing with your body?” Hendrix demanded sounding a bit strangled. His hands lightened their grasp and his fingers brushed against my hipbones. He lowered his forehead to mine and rubbed his nose along my nose. “We’re in a room full of people. Reagan. I haven’t even kissed you yet. Probably it’s better not to turn me on violently first thing in the morning.” My stomach jolted awake, followed by the thousands of butterflies that had apparently fallen asleep in my stomach. His leg slipped between my thighs and his whole rigid, glorious body pressed down on mine. His breath was stale from sleep, but oddly I found it even more endearing. I had to close my eyes against all of the sensations flooding my body. Vaguely, I remembered those other people with us in the freezer, but just barely. He leaned down and kissed my cheek before he pulled back and moved away from me. I heard him groan into his hands. I tilted my head and watched as he scrubbed his face with his hands roughly. He noticed me watching him and shot me an evil scowl. I smiled. This boy was more than any girl was capable of resisting. I was falling for him, despite my better judgment.

I remember reading once that love—or what we perceive as love—the mad, passionate kind that sends butterflies flitting through stomachs—is a sort of addiction.

That unequivocal feeling of being in love. Of warmth and security, of butterflies in the stomach, of an excess of joy and high spirits, laughter and craziness. And of happiness. Yes, happiness.

To Seduce You With Looks (The Sonnet) I haven't come to seduce you with looks, I have come to overwhelm you with love. I haven't come to break your door by force, I’ve come to charm it open with my mind’s touch. I haven't come to bring you worldly riches, But to offer you the garland of my heart. I haven't come to usher you with complements, I’ve come to celebrate you, tearing myself apart. I haven't come to count the benefits of bond, I’ve come to make you lose count of your wounds. I haven't come to feel butterflies in my stomach, But to fight the world, helping you break all rules. Let me burn to ashes time and time again, So I may remove the shadows from your life's lane.

Love is not all hearts, butterflies in the stomach and smiling couple selfies. Love is not just a fantasy land, I believe that couples in a long-term relationship would one day surely hit the unromantic milestone and that’s when, little things starts to matter more than ever before. - From (The Awakening)

Butterflies flew around her stomach, and her heart began reaching breaking point. Love knew no boundaries; her strong affection for him went beyond the lowest depths of the seas and higher than the skies above.

When I go out into the street and look people in the eye, I understand how the system works on society. Human beings have abandoned without realizing what is truly essential in this life, and they have done so because there are many titles to be harvested waiting in the dens of inclusive indoctrination, many jobs that demand that doctrine, many tributes and debts to silence Caesar, in this frivolous and superficial holographic recreation of life, love is similar to a colic, none of them believe that feeling "butterflies in the stomach" is an experience we are part of when we are in the first stage of falling in love. So, all that once was, no longer will be, and depersonalizing the human race is a great job of social engineering that the ancient shapers of humanity did very well in times past and present. But we cannot cross the bridge or break the gap or make a quantum leap through consciousness if we do not unite! If we cannot connect our hearts with our brains and send a signal across the skies to the farthest reaches of this planet, we will be lost forever! So do you realize what I am talking about? Do you understand why to this world you are just a number that adds up with your work and subtracts with your old age? Do you understand why it is necessary to regain that power before it is too late? The new generations are being subjected to a large-scale social experiment, the days will come when the men and women of the future will be replaced by a thing similar to artificial intelligence and will no longer need feelings, much less organs. So... When I go out on the street and look people in the eye, that's when I understand how the system works on society. From the book The Game of Life

It’s going to be fine.” Butterflies swirl in my stomach. “How do you know?” “Because this baby has you as a mom.” My eyes well with tears. “And its father loves its mother so, so

Vaishusmriti (The Sonnet) Those few afternoon trips back from uni, With her head on my shoulder, were utopia. My stomach was bursting with butterflies, But my lips could barely utter a word. My shirt got seeped with her intoxicating scent, But her heart was posted to another man's mail. Yet how can you begrudge someone you once loved! It's okay to lose your heart to the wrong people. Hadn't she rejected me, I'd have ended up yet another nobody in the sea of engineers. When life shatters you to a million pieces, Get up and give back life some middle finger. If you must love, love without any agenda, If they love you back, your heart grows softer, If they break you, your heart grows stronger, Either way, in act of love there is no failure.

Back in Atlantica, Ariel couldn't contain the whirlwind of emotions that coursed through her. She had saved a human! The most beautiful and kind and wonderful human she had ever seen. And she'd spoken to him. "Eric," she whispered, her stomach fluttering like butterfly fish. "When am I going to see you again?" She plucked a flower from one of the reef beds and rolled onto her back as she giggled to herself.

Love, as she knew it, did not make a person feel vulnerable and defenseless, or generate confusion, or send butterflies in one's stomach! It didn't make one want to laugh and cry at the same time, or feel annoyed and excited in a flash, or want to inflict pain or care for someone simultaneously. It didn't make one despise oneself for responding to a kiss like that, wanting it to end, and yet feeling such unbearable longing and yearning for it, needing it to go on and on and on. Love, she admonished herself firmly, doesn't make one do or feel those things.

She said, Do you know what I really love about him? When he kisses me on the forehead my feet are lifted from the ground and butterflies dance in my stomach.

Date: 27th of Feb, 2021 What is Love ? Is it something you feel, vibe or exhibit ? Or is it in caring, sharing or sacrifices L.O.V.E Love is in small details, everywhere around, the sun loves the sky amidst it colours, the sky loves the clouds inspite of its darkness, the darkness loves the light inspite of its own capabilities to lighten, Love is not something that can be talked or explained, but then what am i trying to do so?? Weird. Despite the running thoughts right now i have to share what i feel before that thought would never strike again (Ps: You are a constant thought that runs in my mind) For me what love really is ! For me, love is a gift, that feeling is magical, being in that feeling is lucky, Love is not something you fall for, how can u fall in love, when you feel embraced and butterflies, in your stomach you are actually lifted in love, you are actually strong when you love. You admire the person with all its possibilities to be with her and its goodness and makeup your mind about the righteous of the person and imagine and day dreaming of being with them. That's the first sip. Love is true, when you demand no change and when u accept her the way she is with all her negativity and positivity, with her moods and habits, accepting and going with her choices, supporting her beyond the support you expect from her, pushing yourself to make efforts to see her smile, taking her stand in public, respecting her thoughts despite having different opinions. love is not about being right every time about everything, its about making her feel right about things that are not, its about sacrificing your thoughts to hear hers, its about sacrificing your last bite to look her smile, its about starring into your partner eyes and talk without a word, holding hands until you go home, hold her mood until she's back, and being insecured about her safety until she's home This is the only feeling that makes me feel special, its the only feeling that helps me finds happiness in sacrificing too, That's the only feeling that lifts my mood by seeing her or motivating her when i m having a bad day, its tough though sometimes, love can make you think for possibilities and impossibilities that may never occur and give you a hard time, sometimes you push yourself and them away. But cannot really stay away, then why do we do that, Sharing of emotions will be the best part of the journey of love You don't shy accepting, being in love, coz not everybody is lucky to have it, You embrace it, You love being in Love ❤️ but then why do they not talk about love Its a complex simple feeling. 05:19 AM (the moon was still so pretty)

I kept all the butterflies in my stomach in a jar hidden somewhere in my closet. I would need them at nights when I'm tangled up in your sheets and I need to feel something.

You are the words I can't seem to write and stash away in those paper napkins when I take afternoons off coffee houses, the butterflies I've caged in my stomach, so I won't have to feel them after all those somersaults.

He smiled at me, awakening the butterflies in my stomach. I’d never thought I’d find a smile to be so captivating, but Hugo’s was. Every time he smiled at me my heart stopped, and everything else ceased to exist. Hugo’s smile was the sun at the centre of my universe.

Tonight my heart weeps on behalf of my eyes a reluctant delegation of tears like condensation on a window on the verge of falling Tonight I am a ruin a castle made of sand The tide has come to reclaim me I am a mirage in a ghost's memory already gone if I was ever here Tonight I am the blood of the rose squeezed and pressed in a child's hand I am the moon without the sun My light is dimming and the moths have taken up residence in my stomach where the butterflies once lived It is dark and they are hungry Tomorrow I will keep planting flowers in my soul Winter will pass They will bloom and the butterflies will return

The beginning of love enters with butterflies in the stomach to pain in the heart and leave you with scars and endless questions in you!

Shannon whirled around with a basketball in her hands, annoyed that the sound of Sam’s voice sent butterflies flitting through her stomach like they were OD-ing on Starbuck’s.

What is it like to fall in love? What does it feel like? It's this tingling sensation you feel, somewhere in the remotest corners of your stomach. The feeling that butterflies are dancing within you. The feeling that you never want to sleep again because reality finally feels better than any dream you've dreamt before. The feeling that all the colours all around you radiate a bit more than they did before and that your own radiance competes with all the colours all around you. The feeling that all the people all around you drink in this radiance, giving it back to you and that everything is ablaze with light and that everything fell into place and that everything will stay in this place. The feeling that your own happiness is intertwined with this significant other who suddenly found his way into your life. The feeling you feel within you whenever this significant other looks at you in this way, he doesn't look at anyone else. The feeling that you have already known this significant other for ages. The feeling that you waited for this significant other all your life. The feeling that you want to spend the rest of your days with this significant other. The feeling that you're not solely yourself and him not solely himself but that what has changed is bearing a name: we. We, together.

Alone. Ha! Right, like that was going to happen. Katie’s heart raced and her stomach was full of butterflies—no, she mentally corrected herself, not butterflies. Those lovely creatures flew around gracefully, sweeping their wings in wide, slow arcs. Whatever had invaded her belly was a lot more manic than innocent little butterflies. Maybe hummingbirds. Yeah, she thought, hummingbirds. Their wings going a mile a minute and shredding her stomach lining sounded about right.

Daisy, I love you. I’ve loved you for years.” His eyes searched mine, and I saw the sincerity in his words. A lump rose in my throat, and butterflies exploded in my stomach. “I love you, too,” I replied in a rush. “Thank fuck.” He grinned. “But I don’t want us to change.” “Well, I’d like to fill your pussy up again, but everything else can stay the same.