...kids marked by the special thinness that one has only once, the transparent thinness of early maturity, when, without knowing it, you are immortal. And completely permeable. When you can walk indifferently down the street with a lover because you have become that lover. Two small people without dislike of suspicion.
Andrea LeeTag: lovers
Maybe we were together in another life...in a parallel universe, maybe our paths are not supposed to cross twice, maybe your arms are not supposed to go around me. I hear about you now
Stevie NicksTag: lovers
Swifts, on a fine morning in May, flying this way, that way, sailing around at a great hight, perfectly happily. Then, one leaps onto the back of another, grasps tightly and forgetting to fly they both sink down and down, in a great dying fall, fathom after fathom, until the female utters a loud, piercing cry of ecstasy.
Charlotte BrontëShe had no need to ask why he had come. She knew as certainly as if he had told her that he was here to be where she was.
Leo TolstoyWhen two people are in love, they are parrallel lines. That intersect. Together but seperate. Infinity.
James CollinsTag: lovers
In spite of photographs taken in beer halls or nightclubs showing her cuddling up to some strapping, smirking youth, it seems that the romantic cliché was true: when she met Adolf Hitler, Eva Braun met her destiny
Angela LambertBut it is just two lovers, holding hands and in a hurry to reach their car, their locked hands a starfish leaping through the dark.
John UpdikeTag: inspirational love metaphor imagery suggestive lovers beauty-in-literature
I had my own bed. I slept in it alone, except for those times when we needed—not sex—but sex was how we got there.
Amy HempelWhat made you fall in love with a prostitute?”
“I didn’t understand it myself at the time. But I’ve thought about it since, and I think it was because, knowing that your body would never be mine alone, I had to concentrate on conquering your soul.
He smiled then, and that smile was like the sunset, stretching from one end of her existence to the other, lighting her way not by sight, but with a slow kindle inside she knew would never leave her bereft for the sun's warmth.
Joey W. HillTag: lovers
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