Rossi Love Quotes

People can be cruelest to those they love.

She absorbed the terror and beauty of him and his world. Of every moment over the past days. All of it, filling her up like the first breath she'd ever taken. And never had she loved life more.

Love is a rebellious bird that nobody can tame.

Love was like the waves in the sea, gentle and good sometimes, rough and terrible at others, but that it was endless and stronger than the sky and earth and everything in between.

I miss you. I miss you. I miss you, I miss you. Be ready, because when I see you, I'll never let you go again.

She'd survived the outside. She'd survived the Aether and cannibals and wolves. She knew how to love now, and how to let go. Whatever came next, she would survive it, too

What I was trying to say,” he whispered, “is that I see you in everything. There isn’t a word for you that means enough, because you’re everything to me.

There was nothing more painful than hurting someone you loved.

Fine. Then I love you, my little Night Crawler.

Most important, in order to find real happiness, you must learn to love yourself for the totality of who you are and not just what you look like.

Come back with me, Aria. Be with me.

Liv or love?" she asks. I brush her hair away from her neck and rest my hand there, feeling the beating of her pulse. "Either," I answer. "They're the same to me.

Love is a rebellious bird that nobody can tame. He looked up, meeting her eyes. 'I'm called Peregrine. Like the falcon. People call me Perry.' She smiled. 'We're alike, Perry. My voice is called a falcon soprano.' His hand brushed past her cheek and slid into her hair. 'We're the same, Aria.

Love is a rebellious bird that nobody can tame[...] I think the bird is the connection between us... I'd do anything for him.

It was a message from her. A reminder—here among hundreds of people—of a moment that had been theirs alone.

Oh her deathbed, when her hands could no longer weave or paint or mold clay, she'd told stories and filled them with the colors she loved.

Yes. Of Course… I’ll always…Like you, Aria." He grinned, because he sounded like fool. He loved her-down to his soul-and he was going to tell her sometime. But not with Talon’s knee digging into his kidney.

in other words, accept yourself. love your body the way it is and feel grateful towards it. most importantly, in order to find real happiness, you must learn to love yourself for the totality of who you are and not just what you look like

 Then he told Perry that love was like the waves in the sea, gentle and good sometimes, rough and terrible at others, but that it was endless and stronger than the sky and the earth and everything in between.

I shrug. You're a part of me, Olivia. Anything that involves you is always about us.

It was my idea. It's the safest way, but it's strange pretending to be something different. It's like there's a glass wall between us. Like I can't touch him or ... reach him. I don't like the way it feels.

She could have lived every minute she'd had with him better. She should have always spoken the best words she could to him.

They say that all great love stories have a happy ending. I, Francesca Rossi, found myself erasing and rewriting mine until the very last chapter.

Every rose has it's thorn, but that doesn't mean you have to put up with a ton of pricks.

I began to see myself as someone who can help others understand diversity rather than feeling like a social outcast. Ellen taught me to not care about other people's opinions. She taught me to be truthful. She taught me to be free. I began to live my life in love and complete acceptance. For the first time I had truly accepted myself.

It's good to be loved. It's profound to be understood.

When you've been hurt by someone you love like he has, why would you ever seek love out? Why would you risk being hurt again?

My decision not to eat animals anymore was paramount to my growth as a spiritual person. It made me aware of greed and made me more sensitive to cruelty. It made me feel like I was contributing to making the world better and that I was connected to everything around me. I felt like I was part of the whole by respecting every living thing rather than using it and destroying it by living unconsciously. Healing comes from love. And loving every living thing in turn helps you love yourself.

Healing comes from love. And loving every living thing in turn helps you love yourself.

Love, not balance, brings enlightenment

This ring means that I choose to spend the rest of my life with you. I promise to love you in the nurturing and selfless way that you love me. I've changed so much since I've known you. Your love has given me the strength to be softer. You've taught me kindness and compassion. You make me better.

When you end a chapter in your book of 'Wrong Men,' don't close the book of your love story, just turn the page.

Only in imagination or dreams do the people we love occupy their proper places

We know nothing about those we love, except our need of their presence

Sei la ragazza più intelligente che abbia mai conosciuto, la più spiritosa, e mi stupisci in tutto quello che fai. Vorrei poterti dire che sono queste le ragioni per cui mi piaci, perché questo proverebbe che sono un essere umano evoluto... Invece credo che c'entri anche il fatto che hai i capelli rossi e le mani morbide.. e che profumi come una torta di compleanno fatta in casa.

I’m going to kill him for this,” she said. “No. Stay away from him, Aria. Find a way to get us out of here. Use Hess. If he likes to run from problems, let’s give him somewhere to go. Another option. But promise me you’ll stay away from Sable.” “Perry, no.” “Aria, yes.” Didn’t she understand? He could endure anything—except losing her.

In a way, I loved him. But I loved the roles that we both played a lot more. I had assigned him the role of my protector.

You treat me better than I've ever treated myself.

.. solo essere liberi di andarsene ogni giorno può dimostrarci la sincerità di un rapporto.

Love is a rebellious bird that nobody can tame,’” she said... 'I think the bird is the connection between us.... I’d do anything for him,' she said, and realized that it really was that simple.

Then he told Perry that love was like the waves in the sea, gentle and good sometimes, rough and terrible at others, but that it was endless and stronger than the sky and the earth and everything in between.

Peregrine,” Molly said sometime later, when the group had fallen quiet. Talon snored softly with his head in her lap. “Sable made an announcement to us earlier. He told us this place was going to be called Cape Rim. I think we can do better.” “I know we can,” he said. “What would you call it, Molly?” “I’ve been thinking about it, and it seems to me we wouldn’t be here if it weren’t for Cinder.” “Oh . . .,” Marron said. “That’s lovely.” Aria looked up, her violet scent filling him with steadiness. “What do you think?” Perry looked down to the waves, and then farther out to the dark horizon, where he saw only stars. “I think it’s a great name.

Do you need me?” she said. She could scout as well as Roar and Brooke, who had already disappeared into the darkness. Perry looked up. His hair was tied back with a leather strip, but a piece fell forward, a blond wave coming to rest at his eyebrow. “You want the truth?” Aria braced herself for a comment about her arm. “Always.” “That’s my answer.

I can't explain the birds to you even if I tried. In the early morning, when the sun's rays peek over the mountain and subtly light up the landscape in a glow that, if audible, would sound like a hum, the birds sing. They sing in a layered symphony, hundreds deep. You really can't believe how beautiful it is. You hear bass notes from across the farm and soprano notes from the tree in front of you all at once, at varying volumes, like a massive choir that stretches across fifty acres of land. I love birds. But not as much as my wife loves them. My wife thinks about them, whereas I only notice them once they call for attention. But she looks for them, builds fountains for them, and saves them after they crash into windows. I've seen her save many birds. She holds them gently in the palm of her hand, and she takes them to one of the fountains she's built especially for them and holds their beaks up to the gentle trickle of water to let them drink, to wake them up from their dazed stupor. No matter how much time it takes, she doesn't leave them until they recover. And they mostly always do.

I highly recommend inviting the worst-case scenario into your life. I met Ellen when I was 168 pounds and she loved me. She didn’t see that I was heavy; she only saw the person inside. My two greatest fears, being fat and being gay, when realized, led to my greatest joy. It’s ironic, really, when all I’ve ever wanted is to be loved for my true self, and yet I tried so hard to present myself as anything other than who I am. And I didn’t just one day wake up and be true to myself. Ellen saw a glimpse of my inner being from underneath the flesh and bone, reached in, and pulled me out.

Then he told Perry that love was like the waves in the sea, gentle and good sometimes, rough and terrible at others, but that it was endless and stronger than the sky and the earth and everything in between. “One day,” his father had said, “I hope you understand. And I hope you’ll forgive me.” Perry knew how it felt to be haunted by a mistake whenever he lay down to sleep. There was nothing more painful than hurting someone you loved.

As a soldier in the US Army, I was prepared to do whatever was asked of me because I believed, down to my soul, that the uniform I’d wear as a Ranger represented the defense of liberty and freedom, and the country I love. I’d chosen to serve because I could fight and because until wars stopped happening, people like me were needed. I had zero problem doing whatever it took to keep harm from coming to innocent people. Zero problem. Period, exclamation point, and freakin’ hooah.

Writing to her, I was no longer lonely... I could tolerate anything as long as I had a notepad and a pen and could pour my heart out to her in these letters.

I can’t because I don’t want you to hide from me.

-Hueles a las violetas de principios de primavera-le susurró. Y entonces se echó a reír, porque aunque era cierto, al decirlo sintió que era el mayor de los idiotas del mundo.

She knew how to love now, and how to let go. Whatever came next, she would survive it, too

There is nothing more painful than hurting someone you loved.

Hay gente a quien su desnudez la viste -digo- , y hay gente que, al vestirse, se queda sola.

Love is a rebellious birf that nobody can tame

How the stars shone. How sweet the earth smelled. The orchard gate creaked, and a footstep pressed on the sand. And she entered, fragrant as a flower, and fell into my arms. Oh, sweet kisses, lingering caresses. Slowly, trembling, I gazed upon her beauty. Now my dream of true love is lost forever. My last hour has flown, and I die, hopeless, and never have I loved life more.” They

Acceptissima semper, munera sunt, auctor quae pretiosa facit.” Mr. Rossi turned to Ernie for a translation. “It’s Ovid. The most acceptable gifts . . . are the ones made precious by our love of the giver.

You have to talk to me. We have to tell each other the little things, the bad thing. Maybe they'll hurt for a while, but at least they won't become big things. If we don't, we're just going to keep hurting each other. And I don't want to do that anymore.

Wow.” She reached for a black pillow decorated with a big sparkly skull and hugged it. “So romantic.” I made a face, because who the hell wanted to be a romantic? Then I couldn’t look past the skull pillow. “Tell me something, sis. Why do we have to make skulls cute? Some things shouldn’t be messed with. Guns, for example. Toilets … toilet paper … guns … They should just stay functional. Sparkle-free.” She rolled her eyes. “Please. If I had a bedazzled toilet, I’d love it and so would you. Don’t even try to deny it. You’d love a fancy can.” I did deny it, which led to a healthy debate.

Sale del amor con un extraordinario vigor para las cosas cotidianas. Como si el amor hubiera sido sólo una pausa en los quehaceres, una isla fugitiva en el mar espeso de la rutina. Una isla en la que apenas hemos reposado, viajeros intermitentes. Yo, en cambio, naufrago en nebulosas olas lejanas: el amor me traslada, me transporta, me separa de las cosas. Vago, viajero perdido, en vagas holandas, en dinamarcas brumosas. No podría decir cuándo ha comenzado el placer ni cuándo ha terminado. Podría no haber empezado en la piel ni en un clítoris encajado a la boca como una llave en perfecta cerradura. Y nada habría cambiado.

Anastasia Rossi, born Edith Simmons, sat upright, her bulk filling the chair to its arms. She was dressed in her typical costume for a séance: silk kimono trimmed with cambric, loops of jet beads cascading down her bosom, “Pocahontas” headband with its diadem and ostrich plume. To her right sat Mr. Farnsworth, a tall, bearded man with russet eyebrows, to whom she had made love that morning beneath a rearing stuffed panther, lips (the panther’s) pinned back to show her fearsome teeth. To her left, her thin fingers trembling in Anastasia’s ample palm, was Mrs. Farnsworth, a slight, hysterical woman in a neck-high blouse with bishop sleeves. It was she who had first heard the ghosts that August, and for whose relief the séance was being conducted

I also suspect that he loves you." Trying to suppress the anguished hope that flared in her heart, Lauren turned her face to the stained-glass window near their table. "What makes you think so?" "To begin with, he isn't treating you the way he normally treats the women in his life." "I know that. He's nice to the others," Lauren said bitterly. "Exactly!" Mary agreed. "He's always treated his women with an attitude of amused indulgence...of tolerant indifference. While an affair lasts he's attentive and charming. When a woman begins to bore him he courteously but firmly dismisses her from his life. Not once to my knowledge has any woman touched an emotion in him deeper than affection or desire. I've seen them try in the most inventive ways to make him jealous,yet he has reacted with nothing stronger than amusement, or occasionally exasperation. Which brings us to you." Lauren blushed at being correctly categorized with the other woen Nick had taken to bed,but she knew it was useless to deny it. "You," Mary continued quietly, "have evoked genuine anger in him.He is furious with you and with himself. Yet he doesn't dismiss you fro his life; he doesn't even send you downstairs. Doesn't it seem odd to you that he won't let you work for Jim,and simply have you come upstairs to act as translator when Rossi's call finally comes through?" "I think he's keeping me up there for revenge," Lauren said grimly. "i think he is too.Perhaps he's trying to get back at you for what you're making him feel.Or possibly he's trying to find fault with you,so that he won't feel the way he does any longer. I don't know. Nick is a complex man. Jim, Ericka and I are all very close to him, and yet he keeps each one of us at a slight distance. There's a part of himself that he will not share with others, not even us.

Entonces la besó, separando aquellos labios suaves con los suyos. Su sabor era perfecto, a lluvia nueva. El beso se hizo más profundo, recorrió su cuerpo con las manos, la atrajo hacia sí. Pero entonces ella se retiró y sonrió. Sin decir nada, le besó la nariz, la comisura de los labios, y después un hoyuelo de la mejilla. Cuando le levantó la camisa, creyó que el corazón iba a dejar de latirle. Él la ayudó y se la quitó por encima e la cabeza. Los ojos de Aria recorrieron aquel pecho, y sus dedos resiguieron las marcas. Él no lograba respirar más despacio. -Perry, quiero verte la espalda. Otra sorpresa, pero él asintió y se dio media vuelta. Echó la cabeza hacia delante y aprovechó el momento para intentar calmarse un poco. Aria dibujó con su dedo el perfil de sus alas sobre su piel, y él dio un respingo y soltó un gemido. Se maldijo a sí mismo: ni queriendo habría podido sonar más salvaje. -Lo siento- susurró Aria. Él carraspeó.

His brows came down low over his eyes. “You realize you’re crazy.” She laughed. “I seem to recall that you like it when I’m crazy. You love it, in fact.

She raised her gaze to his. “Are you kicking me out?” “Will you go willingly?” “Only if you ask nicely,” she said and stepped up to him. “Although I’ll let you throw me over your shoulder and carry me out, if you insist.” He straightened and frowned down at her. “You’re driving me mad.” “You know I love hearing that,” she teased and brushed against his leg with her right knee.

What a shame. A perfectly good truck parked on a rainy mountain road and nobody’s making love? We must be a couple of old geezers.

I see what can only be described as pure unadulterated sex striding towards us. Oh my actual God. This man is a vision. He's wearing a gorgeous suit that I'd say has been stitched lovingly by hand in Italy or somewhere equally seductive. It's the perfect shade of ink-blue and frames a crisp white shirt, the collar of which is undone to reveal a teaser of his black curly-haired and very firm tanned chest that has just the right hint of sheen. His eyes are the darkest brown and nestling in sumptuous eyelashes that make me want to lick them right here and now.

They say love is blind, but it's not. Infatuation is blind. Emotional neediness is blind. Love sees the fault, it just sees beyond it as well. ~Kimberly Rossi's Diary

He smiles. I sit a few feet away and watch as he unpacks the linen bag. “Torin packed this, not Rayna, so who knows what we’ll find.” “Eye of newt and toe of frog,” I mutter. “Wool of bat and tongue of dog.” He smiles, waiting for me to pick up the next verse. “Sorry. That’s all I know.” He props his arms on his knees. “‘Adder’s fork and blind worm’s sting,’” he continues, affecting a macabre tone, “‘lizard’s leg and howlet’s wing, for a charm of powerful trouble, like a hell-broth, boil and bubble.’” “Yum. Breakfast of champions. Is howlet an owl?” “It is indeed.” “And blind worm must be a snake?” “No. Blind worms are lizards with no legs.” “That makes sense. That’s why those were added separately—the lizard legs.” “No respectable brew is complete without them.” “There should be some soft ingredients in there for flavor balance, like butterfly wings and dove’s feathers.” His eyebrows rise. “You’d eat butterfly wings?” “Never. I don’t know why I said that. I love butterflies.” “A symbol of rebirth and resurrection, I might add.” “Subtle, Samrael. Real subtle.” I catch myself smiling. But if he’s good—if he’s really changed—then smiling is fine. Right?

love is all that matters to me

The heat in her eyes? I put it there. She's like a gift that was never mine to unwrap. But now she's looking up at me like I hung the moon and stars.

(70 percent of immune cells live along the gut), as well as in digestion and the absorption of nutrients, which, if not working right, can lead to an array of nutrition deficiencies and negative health consequences.

food is love!

He cupped her face and looked into her eyes. “I don’t know what it is about you that has me so transfixed. Maybe it’s your aversion to my kinsmen or maybe I just like the challenge, but I want to rip your clothes off, make love to you for a week straight and prove to you that we could be great together if you’d only open up.” Her breath came out ragged. “I don’t think you’d be able to make love for a whole week.

When a husband is asked that question by his wife, he should say because he is madly in love with her. He can’t imagine his life without her. She makes him laugh, she is smart, strong, caring, generous, loyal and whatever else is important.

-¿Y qué crees tú que ha hecho? -no me importa lo que haya hecho, y a ti tampoco debería importarte. Vamos. Volvamos con Aria. Va por ahí. -Ya sé por donde ha ido. Rugido le dio una palmada fuerte en el hombro. -Sólo quería asegurarme de que te habías fijado.

«Devi vedere i colori di questa città» mi disse mentre già scendevamo la scalinata. «Londra è colorata. C’è il rosso degli autobus, per esempio». Mi afferrò la mano che aveva abbandonato per permettermi di scendere le scale e quasi mi trascinò per i primi passi. «Devi vedere il verde dei parchi, l’azzurro del fiume, il rosa di certi tramonti… Londra è molto più di autobus rossi e taxi neri, vedrai cosa intendo»

don’t know if I’m capable of loving at all. Not anymore. Not after my past. But if I could love someone, it would be you. It would be you.

To err is human. So relax and join the human race with the rest of us. It’s okay. In fact, it is more than okay. It is preferable and natural.

They say love is blind, but it’s not. Infatuation is blind. Emotional neediness is blind. Love sees the fault—it just sees beyond it as well. Kimberly Rossi’s Diary

Jack could hold a silence with the best of them. And Alanzo Rossi, Alan Ross, was in Jack’s five-day experience of him a pitch-dark room scattered with mousetraps.