Quotes About Comfort

How do you feel?" she asked, trying to fluff his pillow. "Other than terrible, I mean." He moved his head slightly to the side. It seemed to be a sickly interpretation of a shrug. "Of course you're feeling terrible," she clarified, "but is there any change? More terrible? Less terrible?" He made no response. "The same amount of terrible?

I knew nothing but love and devotion when I was growing up. Trust me, it makes everything easier.

As his hands moved to his trousers, he saw that she was pulling the bedsheets over her. "Don't," he said, barely recognizing his own voice. Her eyes met his, and he said, "I'll be your blanket".

It was strange, to find a woman who could make him happy just with her mere presence. He didn't even have to see her, or hear her voice, or even smell her scent. He just had to know that she was there.

And she never knew that he laid awake the whole time, his lips at her temple, his hand against her hair. Whispering her name. Whispering other words as well.

I vow to spend the rest of my life keeping your hands and feet warm.

He'd been waiting for a love fraught with passion and drama; it hadn't even occurred to him that true love might be something that was utterly comfortable and just plain easy.

Daniel immediately knelt at her side, pulling her close. "It's all right," he murmured. "Everything is going to be all right." Anne shook her head. "No, it's not." She looked up, her eyes shining with love. "It's going to be so much better.

Is there anything else I can do to see to your comfort, Miss Trent?" Perriwick inquired. "She's fine," Blake growled. "Clearly, she--" "Perriwick, isn't the west wing on fire?" Perriwick blinked, sniffed the air, and stared at his employer in dismay. "I do not understand sir.

what a sad pair we are," she said. "Surely we can manage a conversation on a topic other than our respective terrible evenings.

He took her hand and squeezed. "Do I look a mess?" she asked. He nodded. "But you're my mess," he whispered. And he was very glad for that.

Oakley won't," the duke said. She turned and blinked. "I beg your pardon." "Lord Oakley. He won't forget to find us rooms. I've known him for years. The only thing that is making this bearable is that he must be dying inside over all this." "You don't like him?" "On the contrary. I've long considered him a friend. It's why I enjoy his misery so much.

Do you live here?" Sophie asked dryly. "No," he said, plopping down into the chair next to her, "although my mother is constantly telling me to make myself right at home.

I'm home'', he said against her skin, and she realized it was the truth. ''I'm home, too''.

And that was when she finally allowed herself to cry. Funny how she could hold herself together, keep it all inside until she saw him. But now that he was here, all she could do was bury her face in the warmth of his chest, snuggle closer as his arms wrapped around her. As if somehow he could make all her problems go away by his presence alone.

Places I Would Rather Be, Edition 1821 By Lady Olivia Bevelstoke France With Miranda With Miranda in France In bed with a cup of chocolate and a newspaper Anywhere with a cup of chocolate and a newspaper Anywhere with either with a cup of chocolate or a newspaper

No," he said hoarsely, "the chair will do just fine, thank you." "If I know you are uncomfortable, I shan't be able to sleep." She sounded remarkably like a damsel in distress. Dunford shuddered. He had never been able to resist playing hero. Slowly he got to his feet and walked to the empty side of the bed. How bad could it be?

It's bacon. How can anything in the world seem bleak when one is eating bacon?

She was here, with him, and she felt like heaven. The soft scent of her hair, the slight taste of salt on her skin— she was, he thought, born to rest in the shelter of his arms. And he was born to hold her. -Benedict's thoughts about Sophie

Everyone had spent so much time telling her that love was a thing of magic, something wild and uncontrollable that came like a thunderstorm. And now it was something else? It was just comfort? Something peaceful? Something that actually sounded nice?

He was comfortable with her. He could make the sort of stupid comments that were only a little bit funny and made no sense. The kind one made when one didn't have to weigh every word and worry about judgment or scorn.

How can anything in the world seem bleak when one is eating bacon?

It is simply a matter of making sure they realize that you are comfortable with them. Once they realize that, they will be comfortable with you.

Her hand stirred at his back. "What do I do?" she whispered.