“I cannot fix on the hour, or the spot, or the look, or the words, which laid the foundation. It is too long ago. I was in the middle before I knew that I had begun.”
——Pride and Prejudice

You are not small,you are beautiful.
——The Perks of Being a Wallflower

Three words, eight letters, say it, and I'm yours.
——Gossip Girl

The problems of your past ,are your business.But the problems of your future,are my privilege.
——Sherlock Holmes

I will love you until I take my last breath on this earth.
——The Vampire Dairies

I thought that it mattered what I said or where I said it. Then I realized the only thing that matters is that you.
——Friends

“The deepest love I think, later than apart, I will live as you like. ”
——Leon

Loving you is the important thing, Miss Lester. There are some people who think love is sex and marriage and six o’clock-kisses and children, and perhaps it is, Miss Lester. But do you know what I think? I think love is a touch and yet not a touch.
——The heart of a broken story

I should warn you, I'm not going to be any good at this. 'Bringing flowers' and 'holding hands'. I'll probably forget your birthday. But if I'm going to do this with anyone. It might as well be you.
——Rush

There is nothing I couldn’t give you, there is nothing I would deny you, if you would not deny me.
Open you’re heart to me.
——Titanic

You're going to get out of here. You're going to go on and you're going to make lots of babies and you're going to watch them grow and you're going to die an old， an old lady， warm in your bed. Not here. Not this night. Not like this.
——Titanic

I love you once.I love you twice.I love you more than beans and rice.
——Desperate Housewives

What I heard then was the melody of children at play. Nothing but that. And I knew that the hopelessly poignant thing was not Lolita's absence from my side, but the absence of her voice from that chorus.
——Lolita

I looked and looked at her, and I knew, as clearly as I know that I will die, that I loved her more than anything I had ever seen or imagined on earth. She was only the dead-leaf echo of the nymphet from long ago - but I loved her, this Lolita, pale and polluted and big with another man's child. She could fade and wither - I didn't care. I would still go mad with tenderness at the mere sight of her face.
——Lolita