Bernard Cornwell Quotes

He bowed is head into my throat, groaning softly. "I loved you long before you loved me. Its the only thing I have you beat at, and ill bring it up every chance I get." His mouth pressed to my skin, took on a devilish curve. "Lets get out of here. I'm taking you back to my place, this time for good. We have unfinished business, and I think its time we do something about it.

Love is more cruel than lust.

I dreamed that you bewitched me into bed And sung me moon-struck, kissed me quite insane. (I think I made you up inside my head.)

Love is when the desire to be desired takes you so badly that you feel you could die of it.

Love is an irresistible desire to be irresistibly desired.

The song Venus de Milo, the whole subject of it is Love is a drug.

Love is the hardest habit to break, and the most difficult to satisfy.

What love is depends on where you are in relation to it. Secure in it, it can feel as mundane and necessary as air - you exist within it, almost unnoticing. Deprived of it, it can feel like an obsession; all consuming - a physical pain.

He was in my hair, my eyes, my fingers, my heart. I day-dreamed about what he was doing, thinking, seeing, smelling, feeling. I could not eat for thoughts of him.

Love is every bit as violent and dangerous as murder.

Passionate love is a quenchless thirst.

Lover? I don't know. I don't know if she loves me. I don't know if I love her. All I can say is, she's the one I think about. All the time. She's the voice I want to hear. She's the face I hope to see.

I knew then that I had never understood what humans called love. But if that was anything close to the power you held over me, then no wonder they searched for it so passionately." I reached out and pulled him into bed with me. "You're going to be late." "Why ?" "Because after hearing that I can't let you leave until I've had my fill. Get naked, Dankmar.

Infatuation.First Love.Lust.My passion can be explained away.But this is sure: Whatever she touches, she reveals

Love isn't quite desire... Love is probably a little bit in The Sandman's domain. Love is partly a dream, it's partly to do with desire, and sometimes it's partly to do with death, as well. It's also very often something to do with delirium.

The essence of romantic love is not the company of a lover but the pursuit.

Love is an angel disguised as lust.

Love is blind, but desire just doesn't give a good goddamn

Love is an irreresisistible desire to be irresistibily desired.

Love is desire sustained by unfulfilment.

I meet you. I remember you. Who are you? You’re destroying me. You’re good for me. How could I know this city was tailor-made for love? How could I know you fit my body like a glove? I like you. How unlikely. I like you. How slow all of a sudden. How sweet. You cannot know. You’re destroying me. You’re good for me. You’re destroying me. You’re good for me. I have time. Please, devour me. Deform me to the point of ugliness. Why not you? Why not you in this city and in this night, so like other cities and other nights you can hardly tell the difference? I beg of you.

Love is madness, if thwarted it develops fast.

Love is a robber and he lives within your eyes.

I don't want to be loved. I want to be desired. Love is safety, but desire is foul.