Charlaine Harris Quotes

Do you think I’m pretty?” I heard myself ask. Something I couldn’t name flashed across his face. “No. I don’t think you’re pretty. I think you’re the most beautiful girl I’ve ever seen.

Do you think I'm pretty? I think you're beautiful Beautiful? You are so beautiful, it hurts sometimes.

You are the most beautiful thing in my world.

“Well," Isaid finally, knowing he was waiting, “you make me laugh.” He nodded. “And?” “You're pretty good-looking." ""Pretty good-looking? I called you beautiful." "You want to be beautiful?" I asked him. "Are you saying I'm not?"

My God, Sage. Your eyes. How have I never noticed them?" That uncomfortable feeling was spreading over me again. "What about them?" "The color," he breathed. "When you stand in the light. They're amazing... like molten gold. I could paint those..." He reached toward me but then pulled back. "They're beautiful. You're beautiful.

You are so beautiful to me.

Love is the attempt to form a friendship inspired by beauty.

Love is a great beautifier.

I think romance is anything honest. As long as it's honest, it's so disarming.

I have no agenda - just to be loved.

I always wanted to be loved.

Have you not noticed that love is silence? It may be while holding the hand of another, or looking lovingly at a child, or taking in the beauty of an evening. Love has no past or future, and so it is with this extraordinary state of silence.

Friendship language is, 'You look nice tonight.' Desire language is, 'You look hot tonight.'

I think in general, people are baffled by love and what it does to them and how far they'll go to have love and be loved.

They needed to share one secret after another with a beautiful woman, to peel away layer after layer, mask after mask, and still find themselves worshiped.

I liked just being with you. I liked the way you breathed when you were asleep. I liked when you took the champagne glass from my hand. I liked how your fingers were always too long for your gloves.

Look at me, chica." When she does, I repeat, "Eres hermosa." "What does it mean?" "You're beautiful.

I think you're a wonder. You're beautiful. You're mature. You are, I admit, vastly more experienced than I am. That's what threw me. I was thrown. Forgive me.

Douglas: You really got to stop doing that. Isabel: Doing what? Douglas: Getting prettier everyday.

Well, duh. You're cuter than she is." He said it like he might say, Grass is green or, Gravity works. Something warm opened up inside my chest. It was a nice feeling.

I've never met another man I'd rather be.

I’d ask you to hang out with us, but you’re not supposed to see me this way.’… ‘What way?’ I ask. ‘Drunk?’ ‘Yeah…well, no.’ His voice softens. ‘Real, I guess.’ ‘I’ll pretend I didn’t.’ ‘Nice of you.’ He puts his lips next to my ear and says, ‘You look good, Tris.’… I laugh. ‘Do me a favor and stay away from the chasm, okay?’ ‘Of course.’ He winks at me.

You're beautiful, every part of you. I love your hair, the way it looks, the way it feels. I love touching it, smelling it. I love the way you wrinkle your nose when you laugh. It makes me laugh, too, every time. And I love watching you eat. Sometimes you can't shovel it in fast enough, but when you get interested in a conversation, you forget there's anything in front of you. God knows, I love making love with you. I can't even talk about that without wanting you. I love your pathetic attachment to those seniors. I love how hard you work.

Love’s secret is always lifting its head out from under the covers, “Here I am!”

We all have our tastes and our type... [But] for me to say 'You're beautiful', I can only say that to my girlfriend. The word 'beautiful' has such a different caliber than any other word out there, like sexy, hot, cute.