If a woman stands behind you, respect her; if she stands beside you, cherish her; if she stands with you, adore her.

— Matshona Dhliwayo

I knew you didn't love me, but I dangerously adored you anyway.

— R. Y.S. Perez

Infatuated painted clouds, enamored of our silky bed-lagoon, reflect with silent tremors your sweetest of the kisses...whispers...then lightly consume its shining sunset skin with loving smiles greeting the lacy starry night ahead...making our senses dance so softly stepping on to the adorn petals of the place no one else knows...

— Oksana Rus

Insane love. Loving insanity. Insanity and love...

— Simona Panova

It's delicious to have people adore you, but it's exhausting, too. Particularly when your own feelings don't match theirs.

— Tasha Alexander

I was not born to be free---I was born to adore and obey.

— C.S. Lewis

Kiss your scars. Fall in love with them. They ought to serve as life-affirming reminders—a lingering trace of hope. The only reason we have these scars is that we survived and are still here.

— Kamand Kojouri

Life. This morning the sun made me adore it. It had, behind the dripping pine trees, the oriental brightness, orange and crimson, of a living being, a rose and an apple, in the physical and ideal fusion of a true and daily paradise.

— Juan Ramón Jiménez

Never blame circumstances for your condition, you yourself are responsible for what you go through. If someone's treating you bad, it's your fault not theirs. If you are not satisfied with your life, It's time you take a step and change it. Nobody will stand for you, nobody will help you, it's you who has to ultimately do something for yourself. Doesn't matter if you're hurting yourself for a small-time, imagine when things will change and your life will change, how happy you'll be... Let that imagination drive you and help you in your betterment. God is watching everything, always think that, as long as, there's someone in the sky to watch over me, nobody on earth can hurt me...

— Mehek Bassi

Oh, but my nether ling side did, and she casts my human armor aside. She guides my hands, knots my fingers through his hair, teases his tongue with hers. She won’t let me pull away, because she wants to be there again. In Wonderland, where his tobacco-flavored kisses always take us. . . Because the things I loathe are the things she adores: His snark, his infuriating condescension. His menacing mastery of half-truths and riddles. The way he shoves me into the face of danger, forces me to look beyond my fears and reach for my full potential. Most of all, because he encourages me to believe in the madness ...in her. . . The darker side of myself: the queen who was born to reign over the Red kingdom and to give Wonderland a legacy of dreams and imagination. His gloved palms seek the bend of my waist, the bow of my hips. He moves me on top of him, so close there’s not enough space for a blade of grass between us. His kisses grow insistent, desperate. His flavor winds through me, fruit and smoke and earth, and other things born of shadows and storms. . . Things I can’t put a name to.

— A.G. Howard