L'word Quotes

Anyway, how are you and Ramona doing?' Uh... you know. Pretty good.' Have you said the L-Word yet?' The L-Word? You mean? Lesbian?' Uh... No. The other L-Word.' ?' Okay. Uh, It's "love." I wasn't trying to trick you or anything.

I don’t like to throw the L-word around; it’s too good and rare a feeling to cheapen with overuse.

The last declaration he'd made to me hung between us. The L word. The one that had nothing to do with like.

And God help them both, if it hadn’t been for Saxton, Qhuinn would have dropped the l-word right then and there, even though the timing was stupid.

I wanted to tell you I....uh, like you." Shit. I chickened out! What was it with me that I couldn't say the big L word? I am such a dope. Morelli sighed into the phone. "You are such a dope.

(...) before they actually admit to the big 'L' word. Love or lust - what's the big, damn deal? You're going to  fuck either way, right?

News flash, Fern Taylor!" Ambrose barked, slamming his hand against the dashboard, making Fern jump. "Everything has changed! You are beautiful, I am hideous, you don't need me anymore, but I sure as hell need you!" "You act like beauty is the only thing that makes us worthy of love," Fern snapped. "I didn't just l-love you because you were beautiful!" She'd said the L word, right out loud, though she'd tripped over it.

(After Nicholas tells Dahlia that he loves her) "...Just don't break my heart my heart, Dahlia. I've never handed it over to anyone before." She placed both hands over his. "I've never had anyone's heart. I don't know the first thing about keeping hearts. You're taking a terrible risk." "That's what I do best." ... "Are you feeling relaxed now?" ... "I was until you started throwing around the L-word. That's enough to scare anyone.

Do you believe in crazy at first sight?” Lines creased his brown. “What?” “I’m not down with the whole L-word and I don’t think this, whatever this is, is that. So don’t freak out and suddenly accuse me of being a stage-ten clinger or something, got it?” “Okay.” He looked amused. “But what if there was crazy at first sight? Because I think we have a credible basis for that.

OK, I confess. I Googled him once. Maybe twice. Oh, all right, so I've lost count over the years. But so what? Who hasn't gone home and Googled a man they're in love with? Hang on - did I just say the L word? - Lucy

Do we use the L-word because we mean it, or because we want to kid ourselves into thinking we’re still in that blissful state?

Maybe you've been in love. I man real love, the kind my grandmother used to describe by quoting the apostle Paul's First letter to the Corinthians, the love that is kind and patient, that does not envy or boast, that beareth all things and believeth all things and endureth all things. I don't like to throw the L-word around; it's too good and rare a feeling to cheapen with overuse. You can live a good life without ever knowing real love, of the Corinthians variety,..

Good," he said. "We need to talk." Suddenly, I didn't feel so relaxed anymore. Talk? What does he want to talk about? The part where I nearly died? I didn't want to talk about that. Because the fact is, that whole part, the part where I nearly died, well, I nearly died trying to save him. Seriously. I was hoping he hadn't noticed, but I could tell by the look on his face that he totally had. Noticed, I mean. And now he wanted to talk about it. But how could I talk about it? Without letting it slip? The L word, I mean. "You know what?" I said, very fast. "I don't want to talk. Is that okay? I really, really don't want to talk. I am all talked out. Jesse lifted Spike of his lap and put him on the floor. Then he stood up. What was he doing? I wondered. What was he doing? I took a deep breath, and kept talking about not talking. "I'm just--Look," I said as he took a step toward me. "I'm just going to give CeeCee a call and maybe we'll go to the beach or something, because really...I just need a day off." Another step forward. Now he was right in front of me. "Especially," I said, significantly, looking up at him, "from talking. That's especially what I need a day off from. Talking." "Fine," he said. He reached up and cupped my face in both hands. "We don't have to talk." And that's when he kissed me. On the lips.

Love. I don’t use the L word lightly. I don’t go around telling people I love pizza or chocolate or Riverdale. I like those things. Love, I save for the important stuff. But I am hopelessly, tragically in love with Penn Scully.

You weren't the perfect father but that's okay because -- probably nobody's a perfect father. No family's perfect, either. I was lucky. I was privileged. Not because of the big house and the money, but because you gave me a lot of yourself. You taught me, you showed me, you encouraged me -- you never lied to me and you never demanded that I be anything I’m not. I didn’t imitate you because you insisted that I do so, but because I wanted to. Of all the men I knew, you were most worthy of imitation. Then I blamed you for letting me be who I was. Pretty dumb. You and Alfred gave me a home and you gave me what we don't mention. The L word. You were the best family I could have had. Thanks.

For whatever reason, I was a hundred times more awkward about saying the L-word in front of the other guys than having sex in front of them. Truly a testament to how broken I was.

Maybe you've been in love. I mean real love, the kind my grandmother used to describe by quoting the apostle Paul's First Letter to the Corinthians, the love that is kind and patient, that does not envy or boast, that beareth all things and believeth all things and endureth all things. I don't like to throw the L-word around; it's too good and rare a feeling to cheapen with overuse. You can live a good life without ever knowing real love, of the Corinthians variety, but I was fortunate to have found it with Harold.

Hell, he'd (Nathan/Noah) been around Tehya and his uncle enough to know that Jordan was determined to fight whatever he was feeling for Tehya. He'd been feeling it for six damned years now or more, and still, Jordan didn't dare mention the L word. If he acknowledged it, then he might have to admit it actually existed.

You’re going to make me L-word you.

She kept . . . using the, well, the quote L-word itself several times without irony or any evident awareness that the word has through tactical over-deployment become trite and requires invisible quotes around it now at the very least.

A week ago,” I say, “I liked you so much I would have wanted to try to make this work.” I swallow a jagged, fist-sized lump, but still my voice has to scrape by to get out. “But now I think I might love you too much for that.” I’m surprised to hear myself say it. Not because I was unaware of how I felt—but because I’ve never been the first person to say the L-word. Not even with Jakob. “You don’t have to say anything,” I hurry to add. His jaw flexes against my temple. “Of course I love you, Nora. If I loved you any less, I’d be trying to convince you that you could be happy here. You have no idea how badly I wish I could be enough.

If I have to tell him what's going on with Prichard, I will. I'm not proud of it, but pride is a very slippery slope where love is involved. Marx. Love. I don't use the L word lightly. I don't go around telling people I love pizza or chocolate or Riverdale. I like those things. Love, I save for the most important stuff. But I am hopelessly, tragically in love with Penn Scully.

His arms went around my waist. "I been meanin' to tell you, Zach-I want a raise. And that's not a sexual innuendo." "I'll see what I can do." His lips brushed min, and he smiled. "I lied." "You don't want a raise?" "It was a sexual innuendo." "I think I love you." The words were out of m mouth before I knew I was going to say them. I wanted to take them back immediately. If talking about moving in together sent him into a full blown panic attack, there was no telling what the L-word was going to do to him. He froze, just for a second, and I braced for the worst, but he just smiled and simply said, "I know.

When I'd begun my last relationship, nearly two decades ago, I'd been unaware of the rule that new lovers must hoard the 'L Word' the way atomic nations hoard their explosives, like something that, once detonated, would change their world forever.

Nooooooooo!” “Don’t gooooooooo!” As much as I hate to use the L word, we all love Mr. Granite. We didn’t want him to leave. “Mr. Granite has been teaching at our school for a long time,” said Mr. Klutz to the aliens. “Why are you suddenly showing up now?” Good question. That’s why Mr. Klutz is the principal. “We do apologize for our lateness,” said one of the Mr. Granites.

I wouldn’t go through high school again if someone paid me a million dollars.” He snorts. It’s a joke, but his tone is laced with pain. We’re getting dangerously close to hitting a nerve. Maybe the same one Nina keeps tempting. “A million, no,” I say. “You’d still need a job with only one mil. What if it were two?” His smile looks forced. “Not even for two.” I swallow, staring at his eyes though he’s not looking at me. “Must have been some wicked girl. What did she do?” He considers this for a moment, then shakes his head. “Nothing.” “You can tell me, you know,” I push, for equal parts curiosity and because he might really need to talk about it. “I won’t judge.” “No, she did nothing, that’s just it. She didn’t love me.” Whoa. Wasn’t expecting the L word. “And you…loved her?” A lump forms in my throat. Whoever she is, I want to punch her.

Careful,” I teased. “You don’t want to veer into the L-word territory.

Regret was even scarier than the L word.

You haven’t used the L word when referring to a guy in years. You love pizza, you love pop up shops, you love our Drop Red Gorgeous lipstick. You do not love these hoes.

You okay?” he asked quietly. “Sure. Why wouldn’t I be?” “Brad. I know you were crushing on him, and now he’s packed it up and moved next door. I wanted to make sure you weren’t having trouble dealing with it.” “I can’t believe Allie told you about my crush.” “Give me a break, Kate. I’ve known since family weekend. When was the last time you wanted to take a picture of me? Document my freshman year? What? Do I have clueless tattooed across my forehead?” Narrowing my eyes, I leaned toward him. “Yeah, I think maybe you do.” Even in the shadows I could see him grin. This was so totally weird. Sitting out here, having an almost normal conversation with my brother. “He’s not your type, Kate.” I scoffed. “How do you know my type? I don’t even know my type.” “Trust me, when you do figure your type out, you’re gonna realize it’s not Brad. I mean, I like him, and he’s a great roommate, but what I want in a friend and what you need in a boyfriend aren’t the same. He’d just end up hurting you. Then I’d have to beat the crap out of him.” I couldn’t stop myself from smiling. “Would you really do that for me, Sam?” “You know I would.” His voice was totally serious. And I realized that he was so not joking. His revelation stunned me almost as much as Joe’s kiss. No, wait, nothing would ever throw me off balance as much as that kiss. “You do know that, don’t you, Kate?” Sam asked. “You’re my sister and I . . .” He waved his hand. “That L-word. You know.” “Love?” I asked. “Don’t make me say it, okay? Just know it’s true. I know I give you a hard time, but hey, that’s what brothers do. It’s part of our genetic makeup, a little chip inside our brains that gets activated when our parents shove a screaming baby sister in our face.” “Like you’d have a memory of that moment. You were only fifteen months old.” “Whatever. Look, I’m out here right now because I’ve been a little worried about you, and I haven’t really been able to get you alone to talk.” “You’ve been able to get Allie alone.” And for a lot more than conversation. He grimaced. “Yeah, she told me you know about us. Are you okay with that?” “What if I’m not?” “Then tough. Get over it.” “Some understanding brother you are.” “I’ve got my limits.” “So you really like her, huh?” “Yeah, I have for a long time, but geez, she’s my sister’s best friend. How weird is that?” “Totally weird. When she described the way you kiss—” “What?” Horror echoed his voice. His eyes were wide, his mouth open. “Payback for the snowball,” I said snidely. “I already paid you back for that.” “So? Maybe there’s a little chip inside a girl’s brain that gets activated when her brother is a jerk and erases paybacks as soon as they happen so we need a steady stream of them.” “You’re definitely not playing nice, Kate.” I heard him heave a sigh. “You know, that’s part of the reason I’ve steered clear of Allie. I don’t want her discussing my . . . moves with my sister.” “Yeah, like you’ve got moves.” He gave me a cocky look. “Hey, I’ve got moves.” I held up a hand. “Definitely don’t want to hear about them.” “Definitely don’t want you to hear about them.

Taylor realized that he had better use the “L” word or this was going to go south pretty far, pretty fast.

How do I get her back?” “You don’t. You cry. You watch L Word reruns. You say you’re going to go vegan and stop drinking, but you don’t actually do it. That’s what you do when you get dumped. Because people don’t come back.

Maybe she's a spaghetti girl.....straight until wet.

I want you to know something—I want to marry you. Whenever you’re ready. But that’s not the most important thing. I’m committed, totally. No matter what you decide you want to do, I’m in this with you all the way. I’ll never leave you. I love you, and I don’t just toss out the L word. You can count on me, Abby.” She ran a hand along his cheek. “Thank you, Cam,” she whispered. “I love you. You can count on me, too.” He smiled. “Thank God those deer came into the yard. This could be the best day of my life.” When

Jack is not at this school to fall in love, Dani, any more than I am." "Who said anything about love? I didn't say the l-word. Did you say the l-word? Oh... I do believe you did.

Even though it was only the word 'like', it roughly followed the same rules as the other L word.

The L word I’d never had any use for was now stamped to the inside of my skull with her name scrawled beneath it beside a picture of a tiny dick with a smiley face and a wavey hand.

Maybe you’ve been taught that using the “L-word” implies that you are making some large commitments. Wouldn’t it be better to ask ourselves how we love any particular person rather than worrying about whether we do or not?

Beauty doesn’t make someone love you. Cece grimaced. She hated that word. What did it have to do with real life? It was a lie—the master tool of manipulation. It tricked women into an illusion of safety and secured their loyalty while the man did whatever he pleased. Soon, the woman hated the man, and everything fell apart. She would never believe in the L-word. She was too smart for that.

I loved her. I was in love with her. The L word I’d never had any use for was now stamped to the inside of my skull with her name scrawled beneath it beside a picture of a tiny dick with a smiley face and a wavey hand. It was my happy place. Rosalie now dominated it over the tiny dick smiler I usually turned to when I needed to raise my spirits. But I didn’t need that friendly dick anymore, I had something much, much better than him. I had love.

Nathanielsz is one of the scientists now brave enough to invoke the “L” word for Lamarck: “the transgenerational passage of characteristics by nongenetic means does occur. Lamarck was right, although transgenerational transmission of acquired characteristics occurs by mechanisms that were unknown in his day.

Is there a particular feeling that makes you want to spend time with us?” “Maybe that dreaded L-word,” I hint, grinning as I catch on. Maven scowls, breaking out of Decimus’s arms to confront us. “Oh, my gods. You know what? Fine. Let's get this over with. Yes, okay?” “Yes, what?” Frost arches a brow. “I obviously caught feelings. Happy?