Nicholas Sparks Quotes
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There are moments when mental overload can render words impossible.
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Dramatic fiction - William Shakespeare made his biggest mark writing dramatic love stories.
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Writing the last page of the first draft is the most enjoyable moment in writing. It's one of the most enjoyable moments in life, period.
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I don't write romance novels.
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Youth offers the promise of happiness, but life offers the realities of grief.
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But you're disappointed." He brushed a strand of hair from her face. "It's not possible for you to disappoint me.
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That's what dating is for, after all - to learn if you're compatible with someone.
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He took a few steps before responding. "You are special," he finally said, and the way e said it made her wonder if he wanted to add something else.
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People in pain don’t always see things as clearly as they should.
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Does trust have to be earned. Or is it simply a matter of faith?
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What mattered most was knowing that love was mine to give, without strings or expectations.
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As compromised as their marriage might be, part of her still believed in her vows. She loved the man he'd been, and she loved the man she knew he could be.
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What good is talking if neither of you are really committed? If one of you had an affair or got addicted to drugs or was abusive, simply talking about it wouldn;t take the hurt away; or fix the trust that's been lost. In the end, marriage comes down to actions. I think people talk too much about the things that bother them, instead of actually doing the little things that keep a marriage strong.
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It's funny, but have you ever noticed that the more special something is, the more people seem to take it for granted? It's like they think it won't ever change. Just like this house here. All it ever needed was a little attention, and it would never have ended up like this in the first place.
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If people don't like you, or they think you're strange, then that's their problem.
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I've come to understand that arguing with my wife about it has never solved anything. So instead of denying it, I've learned to take her hands, look her in the eyes, and respond with those three magic words every woman wants to hear: "You're right, sweetheart.
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I am still yours, Allie, my queen, my timeless beauty. You are, and always have been, the best thing in my life.
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I fell in love with her when we were together, then fell deeper in love with her in the years we were apart.
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Without music he felt aimless and adrift.
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You know how gossip is. It's the toxic waste of small town.
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I knew it wasn't fair, I knew it was wrong, but I couldn't help it. And after a while, the anger I felt just sort of became part of me, like it was the only way I knew how to handle the grief. I didn't like who I'd become, but I was stuck in this horrible cycle of questions and blame.
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I know. You could never hid anything. Your eyes always gave you away. You had the most wonderful eyes I'd ever seen." She lifted her head from his shoulder and looked discretely at him. When she spoke, her voice was barely above a whisper. "I think I loved you more that summer than I ever loved anyone.
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He was thirty-one now, not too old, but old enough to be lonely. He hadn't dated since he'd been back here, hadn't met anyone who remotely interested him. It was his own fault, he knew. There was something that kept a distance between him and any woman who started to get close, something he wasn't sure he could change even if he tried. And sometimes in the moments right before sleep came, he wondered if he was destined to be alone forever.
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Do you ever sit back and wonder what it all means? Whether this is it or if there's something greater out there? Or if you were meant for something better?