Enrique Love Quotes

Not all who are lost are lost forever.

Don't be afraid to grow up, Peter. It's only a trap if you forget how to fly.

Something that can pull men apart-" "Money?" asked Enrique. "Love!" said Hypnos. "Magnets," said Zofia. Laila, Enrique, and Hypnos turned to stare at her. "Powerful magnets," Zofia amended.

You’re a lot braver than most of the people outside,” said Enrique. “None of them could build a bomb with their eyes closed and wander into a metal monster and still want to name it ‘David.’ Trust in yourself, Phoenix.

Enrique didn’t want a forced love. He wanted a love like a light, a presence that drove out the shadows and recast the world into something warm.

Love is a felt force when we become aware of it. Our cognition must be added to the reality of existence. This is the dance of love. We must cultivate our seeds that we plant in each other's lives. Only then we will enlarge our view of love, beauty, creativity, and purpose.

Serena has spent her life fighting fiction the way good soldiers fight—intent on detecting its presence, harassing it, suppressing it—but I have to find a way to show her she’s mistaken her enemy, to explain to her that whoever suppresses fiction destroys life, and that everything disappears with it, all love, all desire. If the past is an invention, it’s not such a big deal. After all, the future’s an invention, and no one finds that hard to accept.

También me gusta mucho Lucinda Williams cuando canta "Born to be Loved", casi un blues sobre el orgullo: "No naciste para que abusaran de ti, para perder / para sufrir, para nada. / Naciste para que te quieran". EVM

This house belongs to me,” Enrique said. “Why do you think we all came here? Because you were such a warm and loving mother? You show that stone thing you’re holding more affection than you ever did any of us. I’m not leaving without what’s mine. This land is rightfully mine.” “Nothing is yours, Enrique,” Orquídea shouted. “You don’t have the first clue of what I did to survive.

I remember always thinking that life itself doesn’t actually exist, because if no one tells it as a story or turns it into a narrative, life is merely something that happens, nothing more. To understand life, you have to tell it, even if only to yourself. This doesn’t mean that a story can make life comprehensible, because there are always gaps in any narrative, whatever sutures or remedies you might try to apply. That is why a narrative only restores life in fragmentary form.

That man loves you. I have never seen anyone look at you like that before, almost as if he couldn't get enough of seeing you. It almost made me jealous of the intensity, and I am a big married woman." "Of over forty years," her father tacked on, "and I do look at you with love, dear. It's just that my eyes are a fading watery brown and Enrique's are green. Women seem to like that sort of color." Colleen

Desde los reyes a los plebeyos, desde los inteligentes a los de condición sencilla, lo que el hombre necesita es amor verdadero.

Solidarity has its roots in love, Peter. We can say that solidarity is empathy, affection or good feelings. The solidarity, the affection, the good feelings, the empathy or the love that the beings radiate and receive, is an energy of a certain class, a very fine energy, the finest that exists, and it can be measured by instruments like the ones we have.” “Seriously?” “Of course, because it’s a force, a vibration, an energy, which penetrates the entire Universe, which made the Universe possible. So, it could be said that love is a ‘vitamin’ that all life forms need, and the more they need, the greater their evolution.” “How is that?” “A dog or a dolphin, they need more affection than a worm or a bacteria, right?” “Oh, sure.” “And a human being, even more.” “It’s true!” When I saw that so clearly, I didn't feel as bad as before because of my fear that ... I’m almost ashamed to confess it ... Well, this is a secret, shhh ... (my fear that nobody loves me) ... But now I understood that needing greater affection is not a sign of weakness, but of greater distance from a bacteria, a worm and a fly. Good!

To fully appreciate the depth of love, we must captivate ourselves in the moment. Whether it is fate or humanism, it produces a great capacity for happiness with a throw in of anxiety, grief, and isolation. Use those whales as an insidious beginning to produce meaning and humility in your life.

if it weren’t for the fact, ladies and gentlemen, that I never go to the movies. Indeed, I’ve never even been inside a cinema, not even when I was a child, when it was fashionable to spend Sundays in one of those dark places.

Habana Eva" released in 2010, Habana Eva is a funny Romantic comedy. Eva works as a seamstress in a sweatshop where she dreams of becoming a fashion designer with her own a room. Her love is her longtime partner Angel, a charming yet lazy islander. Her dream of marrying Angel fades when she meets Jorge, a handsome and wealthy Cuban raised in Venezuela who returns to Cuba, with a more ambitious project than taking photos of Eva for a book. Eva who has been living with her aunts falls for him and has to decide which of the two men she will want to marry. Directed by Fina Torres, starring Prakriti Maduro as Eva and Juan Carlos García as Jorge and Carlos Enrique Almirante as Angel. Venezuelan produced and filmed in La Habana, Cuba. Habana Eva film won the Best Picture award at the New York International Latino Film Festival on August 2, 2010.

Give this gift to the world. Give yourself.

Es conmovedor pensar que "los prófugos", los "reos", los sacrílegos, los desdichados amantes víctimas de la estupidez y la siniestra moral de su tiempo, fundaron la primera escuela que existió en Goya. El amor sólo puede inspirar gestos de amor.

Mi fe en tu amor perdida, es ancla de una nave destrozada.

Todas las ilusiones que te amaron, las que quisieron compartir tu suerte, mucho tiempo en la sombra te esperaron, y se fueron... ¡cansadas de no verte!

He took her hand out of gentlemanly habit, and they walked out of her driveway and started their stroll in a row of garlic, the pungent scent filling the air. Grape vines contrasted with nascent strawberry plants, which would probably be ready to harvest this spring. This farm was massive. Normally, Enrique loved staring out at the ocean from his home in La Jolla, but the view of all these plants as far as his eyes could see almost seemed better. The round artichoke globes reminded him of the undulating waves in the ocean. Wind blew the leaves of the garlic plants, which varied in size. And all this magnificent greenery fed people throughout California.

She'd like that kiss. Actually, she'd loved the kiss. She wanted to kiss him again and again. She wanted him to want to kiss her back. And not just her lips. She would let Enrique kiss her neck, sprinkling even more kisses on her breasts, and maybe even down her body, in between her legs. A shiver passed over her. Yes, she was a virgin, but it wasn't exactly by choice. She most certainly was not saving herself for marriage, an institute she had no desire to partake in. Her virginity was not a prize for a future husband. Maybe she wanted to have sex. Hell, a lot of sex.

When Enrique had realized that Carolina might not be going home for Christmas Eve, he had snuck away to the gift shop in Carmel to get her a present. There hadn't been too many options, but he purchased a pretty butterfly necklace with matching earrings. Once they were alone in the room, he took out the small wrapped box. Her eyes lit up. "Enrique! You didn't have to get me anything." He grinned. "I know. But I wanted to. Open it." She carefully unwrapped the box. "Oh, mariposas! I love these. Gracias." "You know, the butterfly represents rebirth. Carolina, you can do anything. I know you are struggling with what is going on with your family, but I want you to know that you are amazing, and I believe in you.

His hands dropped down to her thighs. He kissed her belly, and then blew kisses in between her legs. She experienced nothing but pleasure as he made her body sing. He licked her like he had the other night, and she gasped. She clutched his hair. He touched her bud and stroked her. It felt amazing, and she wanted him to lick her forever, but she didn't know if she was being selfish. She hadn't done anything to pleasure him. She sat up and pulled him next to her. "You don't have to do that again. We can just have sex. Or I can try to do it to you, though I don't know how to." "Babe, sex isn't just about penetration. I want to please you. I love this. You taste so damn sweet. I want you to enjoy yourself and do anything that feels good. I want you to come in my mouth again." "Enrique!" she gasped, her cheeks turning red as she was laughing. She had never talked freely about sex. And she loved how open he was being with her. He smiled. "You're mine now. And I think you're sexy as hell. I'm going to tell you every chance I get--- how much I want you, how badly I wanted to touch you from the second I saw you. How you have the most incredible plump ass. How much I want to eat your pussy." She exhaled. "I've never seen myself as sexy or attractive. But you... you're a god." She rubbed her hand down his abs and stroked his cock. "I've fantasized about this since I met you." He grinned and kissed her neck. "I can pretty much guarantee not as much as I have. Now relax, babe." He kissed her back down to her belly, and in between her thighs. Sweet heat. He licked her pussy and her breath quickened. Her moans came rapidly. He rubbed her nipples with his free hand as she clutched the sheets, writhing against his tongue. She looked down at Enrique, who was settled between her legs, lapping at her as if she were his oasis in the middle of the fields. She took a deep breath and did exactly as he said. Relax. As she loosened up, pressure built between her legs and waves of pleasure washed over her. Her chest heaved. "Enrique. That feels really good." He grinned. "I'm going to make you feel even better." He rubbed her clit. She felt as if she was going to explode. "That's it, baby. Come for me." Carolina closed her eyes and let go. The intensity pulsed through her as her body shook and ecstasy took over. "Ah, Enrique!

Make love to me." He laced his fingers with hers and rocked slowly in and out. Pleasure replaced the pain as they moved together, finding their own lovely rhythm. She loved this. Not just the sex, but the intimacy. Having him on top of her. This special dance they engaged in that was just between them. He looked into her eyes. "You're incredible." And now they belonged to each other. His pace quickened and she let herself go. Her joy came in waves, like it had earlier, but this time it was different. She was lost in this moment, lost in Enrique. How could anything feel so amazing? Her heart beat so loudly, she was certain he could hear it. Blood coursed through her body; she was on fire as he rubbed her clit. Pleasure prickled through her veins. Over and over again. "Come on, baby. Don't stop!" he said. She didn't want to stop. She wanted to feel this great every day for the rest of her life. He was like a drug, and she was addicted. He gazed deep into her eyes. Her body throbbed as she cried out. Her thighs quivered as he pressed closer. Finally, she broke into a million pieces. "Enrique!

She pointed to a sundress with bright yellow lemons on it. "That's cute. I love lemons." Ay, Dios mio! Carolina cringed. She sounded like a fool. It was like Baby's "I carried a watermelon" line in Dirty Dancing. Why was she so awkward? "You'd look stunning in that." Enrique signaled to a woman who worked there. A saleswoman walked over to them from the back of the shop. She quickly and professionally assessed Carolina's body and then picked one of the bright dresses off the rack. "This should fit you. Shall I put it in a room for you, miss?" "Sure." Carolina followed her right to the dressing room. The dark hair on her arms stood at full attention and her heart raced. Nerves and anticipation swirled through her--- this whole day seemed like a fantasy, but it was tough for her to just live in the moment. She undressed and slipped the dress over her head. The soft fabric caressed her body, accentuating her curves. She stared at her figure in the mirror. She looked... sexy. Carolina had never seen herself as sensual, but in this dress, in the soft, warm glow of the dressing room lights, she was a knockout. The saleswoman had also placed some bright red pumps in the room. Carolina loved high heels and never had a problem walking in them, because she had spent so many years dancing with the Ballet Folklórico. Carolina's eyes practically bugged out of her head when she saw their bottoms, and she stroked the red soles--- they were Louboutins, an identifying detail she knew about from Blanca's endless fashion magazines. Blanca dreamed of owning a pair one day. She would be so jealous. Luckily, they were the same size, so Carolina would let Blanca borrow them. There was only one problem with Carolina's outfit--- her underwear didn't work with the dress. Her broad, wide bra elastics showed under the thin spaghetti straps, and her panties were too dark. She leaned out of the curtain. "Ma'am." The saleslady walked back over to her. "Can I get you something else?" "Yes. A bra and some panties." Carolina told the lady her sizes, and the lady went around the corner, returning later with an adorable matching yellow lace bra and thong. A thong. Her face crinkled. "Do you have anything with, uh, fuller coverage?" "Of course, dear. But not in the yellow. Do you want to match the bra?" Carolina did want to match the bra. It was such a cute set. She exhaled, stepping out of her comfort zone and into the lingerie. She again looked at herself in the mirror. She practically couldn't recognize herself--- a gorgeous young woman on a romantic day trip with a man whom she really liked.

Time to feast. Enrique grasped her waist and planted kisses in between her thighs. Then he slowly licked her, savoring her sweet taste. He licked and licked again, picking the pace. She was quiet at first, then her hand dropped and rubbed the back of his head. "Ay, Enrique. Wow." He licked her sweet clit as she came alive under his mouth. Her body trembled, and he'd never seen anything sexier in his life than watching her above him. Her breath came more rapidly, and her chest began to heave. She was so fucking hot, and she tasted like sweet sex. The fact that she had never been with anyone but him, that no one had ever made her moan, drove Enrique wild. This was his woman and only his woman. What if he was the only man to ever touch her? Ever? He pushed that thought out of his head. "That's my girl." Enrique pressed his finger into her beautiful pussy. It was so damn tight. He couldn't wait to feel her clench around his cock. But for now, he just wanted to make her come. He sucked on her clit as he worked her pussy. He could sense that she was close, but he was in no rush. He could eat her all night. Her thighs trembled and Enrique pressed his tongue flat against her. "Ay, Dios mío!" She came all over his face, and he lapped up her juices. After catching her breath, a gorgeous smile graced her face as he pulled back, loving the beautiful sight in front of him. "You're right. I loved it.

(Mothers) They lose their children's love. Reunited, they end up in conflict homes. Too often, the boys seek out gangs to try to find the love they thought they would find with their mothers. Too often, the girls get pregnant and form their own families. In many ways, these separations are devastating Latino families. People are losing what they value the most.

Meat Loaf, Cher and Bonny Tyler rub shoulders with Kirsty MacColl, The Bangles and Dixie Chicks. Bryan Adams and Enrique Iglesias compete with Take That and Boyzone for my attention.

.” He dressed discreetly, without pretension, in a jacket or a sport coat. He traveled by auto with a single aide. “He was very much in love with his wife, Doña Soledad,” recalled Adolfo Orive Alba, the young director of the National Commission for Irrigation who used to accompany him in visiting villages where they would discuss plans for small-scale irrigation. The marriage produced no children but a love that caught Orive’s attention: “For the general to meet a fashionable actress of the time—María Félix, Sofía Alvarez, Dolores del Río—would be like his becoming acquainted with