Philippa Gregory Quotes

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

Among those whom I like or admire, I can find no common denominator, but among those whom I love, I can: all of them make me laugh.

Love is so simple.

I think more people need to make out.

I don't know, but I always loved that image of a girl putting toenail polish on a guy - her boyfriend, or something like that. Or a guy waking up in the morning and reaching over and putting on his girlfriend's shirt. Like Keith Richards putting on one of Anita Pallenberg's blouses, or Courtney Love putting nail polish on Kurt Cobain.

There's nothing more human than two people making love.

I like not only to be loved, but also to be told I am loved.

All who love are conspirators.

I have a lot of people in my life, and I think there's something key: the thing that leads to intimacy and relationship and connection is tenderness.

How genuine is my capacity for love if there is no one for me to love, to laugh with, to treat tenderly, to be trusted by?

I have been driven by romance my whole life because I crave the intimacy that comes with that.

It is very natural for a couple in love to be physically intimate.

Emotions never become obsolete, whether they are towards your family or your boyfriend.

But what doesn't change is that love is something we all crave. Everyone is looking for that touch, that emotion, that feeling. Love makes the mundane matter.

I am endlessly inspired by both the tenderness that can exist between two people and the excitement of falling in love. I'm very fortunate that I've been able to explore that in novels, a television show, some early development film projects, and essays about my own life.

To the questioning glance of love, as it flashes out and then conceals itself, speech has no reply; the smile, the kiss, the sigh answer.

Sam reached his hand toward mine and I automatically put my fingers in his.

friendship is love made bearable.

Kissing's a good thing, man. It's the doorbell of intimacy.

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

We stare into each other's eyes and softly kiss speaking and saying more with the movement of our lips and the tips of our fingers than words will allow us to say. Words can't say this. The one word love means too little for what it is. It means everything and that is still not enough. It doesn't communicate even a fraction of the feelings involved. Love. The word is not enough for what it is. Love. Love.

A kiss! When all is said, what is a kiss? An oath of allegiance taken in closer proximity, a promise more precise, a seal on a confession, a rose-red dot upon the letter i in loving; a secret which elects the mouth for ear; an instant of eternity murmuring like a bee; balmy communion with a flavor of flowers; a fashion of inhaling each other's hearts, and of tasting, on the brink of the lips, each other's soul!

I put my hand on him. Touching him has always been important to me, it was something I lived for. I never could explain why. Little, nothing touches, my fingers against his shoulder, the outsides of our thighs touching as we squeeled together on the bus. I couldnt explain it, but I needed it. Sometimes I imagined stiching all of our little touches together. How many hundreds of thousands of fingers brushing against each other does it take to make love?

You're my favorite part of the day and every morning I look forward to seeing your face.