Rainbow Rowell Quotes

To give and receive love, you have to be in touch with pain, you have to be capable of provoking it and feeling it.

Loneliness sucks. It's a slog. It feels wonderful and exhilarating when someone makes it go away. But love is a whole different ball game.

The tenderness between two people can turn the air tender, the room tender, time itself tender. As I step out of bed and slip on an oversize shirt, everything around me feels like it's the temperature of happiness.

What other thing, Eve?" "I love you. Sometimes it makes my stomach hurt, but I kind of like it. Tired now, come to bed. Love you.

He slides his hand over my cheek, one finger anchored behind my ear. Then he tilts his head down and kisses me, sending a warm ache through my body. I wrap my hands around his arm, holding him there as long as I can. When he touches me, the hollowed-out feeling in my chest and stomach is not as noticeable.

I wished for nothing beyond her smile, and to walk with her thus, hand in hand, along a sun warmed, flower bordered path.

It's a long shot, it's suicide maybe, but I do the only thing I can think of. I lean in and kiss Peeta full on the mouth. His whole body starts shuddering, but I keep my lips pressed to his until I have to come up for air. My hands slide up his wrists to clasp his. "Don't let him take you from me." Peeta's panting hard as he fights the nightmares raging his head. "No. I don't want to. . ." I clench his hands to the point of pain. "Stay with me." His pupils contract to pinpoints, dilate again rapidly, and then return to something resembling normalcy. "Always," he murmurs.

I found my happy place the minute I saw you

Your hand is a warm stone I hold between two words.

I-" said Nick, his voice halting. "I don't mind it as much when - when people touch me. Some people." Mae looked down, and Nick, who looked more relaxed when he'd been stabbed, slowly lifted his hand from his chest and laid it on the tumbled sheets between them, fingers half-curled into his palm. He was still regarding the ceiling with a fixed glare. "Because you trust them not to hurt you?" Mae asked tentatively. "No," Nick said, his voice harsh. "Because I'd let them hurt me.

One glance, one word from you gives more pleasure than all the wisdom of this world.

And enough for me that when my hand touched your shoulder, you leaned on me; and when you felt me slip away, you called my name.

You know it's love when you want to keep holding hands even after you're sweaty.

The essence of romantic love is that wonderful beginning, after which sadness and impossibility may become the rule.

I could only try to comfort the women that I came face-to-face with. I was really moved by how much they wanted to talk, how much they needed to be comforted, and how happy they were that we were there.

I'll put it out there: I love getting hugs.

A man reserves his true and deepest love not for the species of woman in whose company he finds himself electrified and enkindled, but for that one in whose company he may feel tenderly drowsy.

Love is the eternal quest: almost everyone wants to love and be loved.

Love? What is it? Most natural painkiller.

When it's a love scene with someone you actually love, there's no feeling like, 'Can I touch him here? Can I touch him there?' You know what your boundaries are - or what they aren't, I suppose.

I can't really explain what it's like to be in love, but I feel like it's being comfortable. It's almost like having a best friend. It's a beautiful thing.

People will still love and hurt and yearn.

I love nicknames. It makes me feel loved. It makes me feel less alone in this world.

Sometimes it is a great joy just to listen to someone we love talking.