Db Love Quotes

Have a big enough heart to love unconditionally, and a broad enough mind to embrace the differences that make each of us unique.

I have been mastered at last, sweet Cyn, helpless in the face of that most human of failings, I love you.

Would it be so terrible, sweet Cyn?” he whispered. “To spend eternity at my side?” But she was too far gone in sleep, and Raphael didn't know if he wanted to hear her answer anyway.

Cyn stepped up and grasped his sweater in her fist, pulling his face down to hers. “I love you more than life, Raphael. But I won’t be dismissed like some piece of fluff whenever it’s convenient.

Follow your heart, but keep it on a leash.

Hatred only tarnishes the soul that carries it.

She hadn’t needed him to escape that place. But rather than making him angry, it only made him proud. Proud that such a woman was his, that she loved him the way he did her. And that she needed him now.

she alone understood all that he was, both good and bad, and accepted him, loved him, without reservation.

For every monster, there’s a monster to love him.

The gardenia is an enigma, its petals dusted with the creamy white purity of innocence, but its aroma is wildly seductive. How appropriate; for in the language of flowers, the gift of gardenias conveys the message of secret love. —DB

Exactly. In the same way that I haven’t forgotten what David Benioff and D.B. Weiss did to us on May 19, 2019.” I waved my index finger between us. “Didn’t Daenerys Stormborn of the House Targaryen, First of Her Name deserve better than that?” I paused, just to let it seep in. “Didn’t we, Rosie?

He wasn’t fucking her, wasn’t even making love to her. No, he was saying good-bye because he didn’t expect to survive tomorrow night.

But stronger and brighter than any other was his mate bond with Lana. She was in every beat of his heart, the very fire in his blood. How could anyone have ever doubted his feelings for her?

In Greek mythology, the goddess Iris sped messages to the gods on the rainbow's arc. Her flower bears no perfume, but steam distillation of the root, or rhizome, yields orris, a precious essence that smells of candle wax, but its impression in perfume is powdery, silvery green, violet-like- a prize of the perfumer's palette. How I wish I could summon the goddess to carry my message to those I love. -DB

Since I overheard him saying those ugly and prejudiced things about me, to our boss no less, his name has been on my black list. And you know how seriously I take that. That shit is carved on stone.” I punched my palm with my other hand to be clear. “Have I forgiven Zayn Malik?” Rosie shook her head, snickering. “Oh, Lord knows you haven’t.” “Exactly. In the same way that I haven’t forgotten what David Benioff and D.B. Weiss did to us on May 19, 2019.” I waved my index finger between us. “Didn’t Daenerys Stormborn of the House Targaryen, First of Her Name deserve better than that?” I paused, just to let it seep in. “Didn’t we, Rosie?” “Okay, I’m going to take your side on that one,” she admitted. “But—” “No buts,” I stopped her, holding a hand in the air. “Aaron Blackford is on my black list, and he will stay there. Full stop.

So, having at last met a foe I could not defeat, I fled,” he said in disgust. “Rather than face you in my weakness, I thought to leave you behind, to forget about you, which I thought was surely possible. After all, how could one human overwhelm me with feelings in such a short period of time?” He smiled bitterly, shaking his head at his own foolishness. “You told me once I haunted your dreams,” he said softly. “With you gone, I have lived for those moments stolen from your sleep. I wanted you to remember me so that no other man could touch you the way I had. The very possibility drove me mad. When I learned you’d gone to Texas, my first thought was to destroy Jabril Karim before his eyes could so much as look upon you, lest he even think to take you for his own.” A cloud covered the moon high above, hiding his face until only the silver gleam of his eyes was visible as he met her gaze. “I have been mastered at last, sweet Cyn, helpless in the face of that most human of failings. I love you.

The book I was reading was this book I took out of the library by mistake. They gave me the wrong book, and I didn't notice it till I got back to my room. They gave me Out of Africa, by Isak Dinesen. I thought it was going to stink, but it didn’t. It was a very good book. I’m quite illiterate, but I read a lot. My favorite author is my brother D.B., and my next favorite is Ring Lardner. My brother gave me a book by Ring Lardner for my birthday, just before I went to Pencey. It had these very funny, crazy plays in it, and then it had this one story about a traffic cop that falls in love with this very cute girl that's always speeding. Only, he's married, the cop, so he can't marry her or anything. Then this girl gets killed, because she's always speeding. That story just about killed me. What I like best is a book that’s at least funny once in a while. I read a lot of classical books, like The Return of the Native and all, and I like them, and I read a lot of war books and mysteries and all, but they don’t knock me out too much. What really knocks me out is a book that, when you’re all done reading it, you wish the author that wrote it was a terrific friend of yours and you could call him up on the phone whenever you felt like it. That doesn’t happen much, though. I wouldn’t mind calling this Isak Dinesen up. And Ring Lardner, except that D.B. told me he’s dead. You take that book Of Human Bondage, by Somerset Maugham, though. I read it last summer. It’s a pretty good book and all, but I wouldn’t want to call Somerset Maugham up. I don’t know. He just isn’t the kind of a guy I’d want to call up, that’s all. I’d rather call old Thomas Hardy up. I like that Eustacia Vye.

I was marketing a database called DB2. DB2 was best known as the leading database platform on a mainframe (that’s what we used to call giant, powerful computers back in the olden days).

He who is devoid of the power to forgive is devoid of the power to love. There is some good in the worst of us and some evil in the best of us. When we discover this, we are less prone to hate our enemies. — Martin Luther King Jr.

But she’d learned long ago that fate was cruel, and those you loved most in the world could be gone in an instant.

No matter what someone’s race, age, gender, background, or creed, all humans know what it means to feel love, bereavement, guilt, regret, and so on—the experiences that shape character.

In the seventeenth century, Turkish concubines devised a secret method of communication with flowers by attaching a meaning to each blossom or plant. The fascination swept Europe and reached its zenith of popularity in Victorian England. In the language of flowers, the red rose symbolizes love, while the calla lily signifies a magnificent beauty. Together, a stunning marriage to the perfumer. - DB

Blood-Stained" Six minutes, no medics, I gasped as ragged breaths escaped my lungs. “Hold on, Bre, hold on,” my love pleaded, but I was already gone. I drowned in my own life’s blood as I heard my love weep for me. Lord, wake us from this nightmare – we want to go back to sleep.

the death of advertising. Certainly, conventional advertising—ads that seek to persuade people to think differently about product benefits—are becoming less effective as media get more fragmented and as audiences become more cynical about marketer’s claims. But cultural branding is different. Iconic brands perform ads that people love to watch. With the advent of the Web, customers search out these

The gardener coaxes seeds from the earth, lavishing attention on their every fragile leaf, their magnificent blossoms. How fragile, how fleeting—this beauty, this love. Only the perfumer can capture, extend nature’s response. Oh, that we could grasp real love so. —DB