189 Quotes About Indian-authors

Stories End, Love Doesn't.

some words bring warmthjust bybeing next to each other.

Ruhi blushed. She had a peculiar way of beingembarrassed. She would restrain a smile and look at my wrist, or my ring, or my sleeves, or my shirt collar - just about any place that would keep her gaze away from my eyes.

give mea pillow of strongever-dependable shouldersthat i can bury my head in.

We are the children of a womb.Yet we differentiate each other,On color, creed and the sizes of our tombs!!

I'm always curious about guys who can cook and play the guitar and have hairy chests and beautiful eyes.

She put on some music. Drum and flute, I think. She played it soft, because it was dreadfully late, a time when all good men and women, or at least the practical ones, had gone to bed. Then she danced for me.

Push away the past, that vessel in which all emotions curdle to regret.

Ebb and flow, ebb and flow, our lives. Is that why we're fascinated by the steadfastness of stars? The water reaches my calves. I begin the story of the Pleiades, women transformed into birds so Swift and bright that no man could snare them.