Andy Partridge Quotes

Wait, I kinda do love you.

I have something to tell you," he says. I run my fingers along the tendons in his hand and look back at him. "I might be in love with you." He smiles a little. "I’m waiting until I’m sure to tell you, though.

Opinions may be mistaken; love never is.

Do you know, Gilbert, there are times when I strongly suspect that I love you!

I love you Huey was the note I read, but there's a strange pair of shoes underneath the bed.

Gilbert, I'm afraid I'm scandalously in love with you.

Dearest darling, how I love you. Words cannot tell how much I love you. So forget it.

I love you. I love you just the way you are. I love you so much!" ~Kyo

That's more than three questions, Max. And sometimes whether someone is your friend or enemy is all in how you look at it. But if you must know, I consider myself your friend, a good friend who loves you very much. No one loves you more than I do, Maximum. Now listen. I ask the questions, not you. You're just here... for the ride. For the incredible, indescribable Maximum Ride.

Love, too, was just a question of time

I might be in love with you." He smiles a little. "I'm waiting until I'm sure to tell you, though.

I am asking you to marry me because I love you,” he said, “because I cannot imagine living my life without you. I want to see your face in the morning, and then at night, and a hundred times in between. I want to grow old with you, I want to laugh with you, and I want to sigh to my friends about how managing you are, all the while secretly knowing I am the luckiest man in town.” “What?” she demanded. He shrugged. “A man’s got to keep up appearances. I’ll be universally detested if everyone realizes how perfect you are.

How can I describe how much I love you? Is it even possible to describe a love like that? I don’t know, but as I sit here with pen in hand, I know that I have to try.

Her passions are made of nothing but the finest part of pure love

I love you. Okay? Want it louder? I LOVE YOU. Spell it out, should I? I ell-oh-vee-ee why-oh-you. Want it backward? You love I.

I know this isn’t a conventional love story. I know there are all sorts of reasons I shouldn’t even be saying what I am. But I love you. I do. I knew it when I left Patrick. And I think you might even love me a little bit.

To do something that will just fly away is kind of special. Every time somebody tell you they love you, that "I love you" flies away, and you wait until the next one.

My girlfriend just told me I am one of the smartest people she knows. I told her, You need to meet other people.

And do you know Monsieur Marius? I believe I was a little in love with you.

There are certainties in existence, but love is something much harder to define than light and dark, life and death. I think saying you are "like" someone in love sounds right.

One may like the love and despise the lover.

I love you to pieces, distraction, etc.

I have something I need to tell you," he says. I run my fingers along the tendons in his hands and look back at him. "I might be in love with you." He smiles a little. "I'm waiting until I'm sure to tell you, though." "That's sensible of you," I say, smiling too. "We should find some paper so you can make a list or a chart or something." I feel his laughter against my side, his nose sliding along my jaw, his lips pressing my ear. "Maybe I'm already sure," he says, "and I just don't want to frighten you." I laugh a little. "Then you should know better." "Fine," he says. "Then I love you.

With time, people forget to say, "Darling I love you." just that word.