He lost his lease, so he was living with loved ones.
How did you know you loved him?
He had loved a singer, but he had married the farmer's daughter.
I loved you in this life and the last.
Next to his family he loved his dogs and gun.
After all, they had known and loved each other for a long time.
She and Dad would have loved Alex.
The boy was jubilant to be with a dad he loved and away from an overly strict mom.
I still believed in people, loved them, and sacrificed myself.
This was the man she loved, and they were engaged.
Not only because she loved him, but also because she trusted him.
He loved her and she loved him.
If you loved me, why didn't you let me make love to you?
I know Martha had her days when I could have killed her but I loved her too.
Dusty gazed at him, sensing how much he loved his sister and how hurt he was by his own actions.
I also dreamed that I might gather the wild herbs, or carry evergreens to such villagers as loved to be reminded of the woods, even to the city, by hay-cart loads.
Of course she loved him, but somewhere inside she still cringed at that sinful word.
"Oh, he loves me so!" said Helene, who for some reason imagined that Pierre too loved her.
They loved one child as much as the other, but one child could never take the place of another.
The Alex she knew loved her and the children.
She needs to be loved... touched.
How could anyone who loved so thoroughly be guilty of the things she suspected?
She told me she thought she loved Giddon, but at the same time she was having Howard investigate him.
She knew little about Bordeaux except that she loved him.
Why had she thought he loved her?
While Betsy loved her position, she was far more enchanted with our success and would adopt it as a full time venture in a minute.
While she truly loved nursing, she too reveled in our accomplishments, second only to her unborn child.
In less than a month in early spring our lives were totally changed and we loved it.
He loved Molly and she thinks the world of him.
No, I decided, Betsy was my wife and I loved her dearly.
Then Ronnie got up and said how he and mom loved each other and how she still loved her daughter Annie and it sounded like my sister was her only child.
Betsy loved reveled in it and it fulfilled my needs; the wine did the trick and, I was hungry and the food tasted good.
All the while, I couldn't block the vision of the wife I so loved, being herded at knife point.
She loved his scent, the feel of his hard, warm body against hers.
She'd hoped not to lose the man she loved as well.
When she was younger, she'd loved it when he told her this.
I think I've loved you since I stole your soul.
For her sake, he made an effort to behave, but he truly loved the openings she gave him.
Claire was all that remained of his brother, and he'd loved her out of respect for a man whose death he'd never been able to accept.
Memories of how much Darian loved Claire, of his own nights in her bed, overwhelmed him.
He loved her fresh innocence, her selfless courage.
He loved her hugs, though he'd never experienced hugs since he was a babe.
She'd never loved Darian and had used him to gain his title and power.
At one point, I think I loved you, too.
"I see a man who just lost the last connection to someone he loved to his soul," she whispered.
My brother loved her with all his soul.
She loved being in his arms!
The Tin Woodman loved Dorothy most tenderly, and welcomed with joy the return of the little old Wizard.
This primer was his only book, and he loved it.
He was the best loved of all our poets.
He loved poetry and soon began to write poems of his own.
Many of his poems are still read and loved by children as well as by grown up men and women.
Indeed, there were few things that he loved more.
He was glad to do this; for he loved the baby.
It was a good old Friend, whom everybody loved--a-white-haired, pleasant-faced minister, whose words were always wise.
He was not strong enough to work on the farm like his brothers; but he loved books and study.
Everybody loved her, and this was the first time she had whispered that day.
And that meant, for too many of us, ditching what we loved to do and doing the work of a machine.
British music is known and loved around the world, as is its comedy and royalty.
He understood my signs, and I knew it and loved him at once.
I had not loved the doll.
I did not eat them; but I loved their fragrance and enjoyed hunting for them in the leaves and grass.
Discouragement and weariness cast me down frequently; but the next moment the thought that I should soon be at home and show my loved ones what I had accomplished, spurred me on, and I eagerly looked forward to their pleasure in my achievement.
I had disgraced myself; I had brought suspicion upon those I loved best.
All the friends I loved best, except one, have remained my own to the present time.
We sailed on the Hudson River and wandered about on its green banks, of which Bryant loved to sing.
Only those who knew and loved him best can understand what his friendship meant to me.
I loved "Little Women" because it gave me a sense of kinship with girls and boys who could see and hear.
In my fancy the pagan gods and goddesses still walked on earth and talked face to face with men, and in my heart I secretly built shrines to those I loved best.
I do not remember a time since I have been capable of loving books that I have not loved Shakespeare.
As a child I loved to sit on his knee and clasp his great hand with one of mine, while Miss Sullivan spelled into the other his beautiful words about God and the spiritual world.
I also knew Mr. Charles Dudley Warner, the most delightful of story-tellers and the most beloved friend, whose sympathy was so broad that it may be truly said of him, he loved all living things and his neighbour as himself.
But soon they learned some Dutch words; but they loved their own language and they did not want little boys and girls to forget it and learn to talk funny Dutch.
And so He loved men Himself and though they were very cruel to Him and at last killed Him, He was willing to die for them because He loved them so.
He cannot imagine how very, very happy he will be when he can tell us his thoughts, and we can tell him how we have loved him so long.
I have loved you for a long time, but I did not think you had ever heard of me until your sweet message came.
A lady seemed surprised that I loved flowers when I could not see their beautiful colors, and when I assured her I did love them, she said, "no doubt you feel the colors with your fingers."
The two distinguished authors were very gentle and kind, and I could not tell which of them I loved best.
Some time ago, when a policeman shot dead her dog, a dearly loved daily companion, she found in her forgiving heart no condemnation for the man; she only said, 'If he had only known what a good dog she was, he wouldn't have shot her.'
The fairies promised obedience, and were off in a twinkling, dragging the heavy jars and vases along after them as well as they could, now and then grumbling a little at having such a hard task, for they were idle fairies and loved to play better than to work.
I dreaded the darkness and loved the woodfire.
I loved to sound him on the various reforms of the day, and he never failed to look at them in the most simple and practical light.
Men of business, even farmers, thought only of solitude and employment, and of the great distance at which I dwelt from something or other; and though they said that they loved a ramble in the woods occasionally, it was obvious that they did not.
And she added, turning to Vera, You'll never understand it, because you've never loved anyone.
I have loved you like a son from the first.
The one general whom we all loved, Schmidt, you expose to a bullet, and then you congratulate us on the victory!
No one has ever complained yet of being too much loved; and besides, you are free, you could throw it up tomorrow.
At one end of the table, the old chamberlain was heard assuring an old baroness that he loved her passionately, at which she laughed; at the other could be heard the story of the misfortunes of some Mary Viktorovna or other.
I loved your father... and she will make you a good wife...
The insult was the more pointed because it concerned not himself but another, his daughter, whom he loved more than himself.
Decide, my dear, good, gentle Marie, whom I have always loved as a daughter!
And suddenly, at this thought of death, a whole series of most distant, most intimate, memories rose in his imagination: he remembered his last parting from his father and his wife; he remembered the days when he first loved her.
"Well then," Prince Andrew answered himself, "I don't know what will happen and don't want to know, and can't, but if I want this--want glory, want to be known to men, want to be loved by them, it is not my fault that I want it and want nothing but that and live only for that.
"Yes, I never loved her," said he to himself; "I knew she was a depraved woman," he repeated, "but dared not admit it to myself.
And Fedya, with his noble spirit, loved him and even now never says a word against him.
It was evident that this strange, strong man was under the irresistible influence of the dark, graceful girl who loved another.
"And fancy! she refused him quite definitely!" adding, after a pause, "she told him she loved another."
One tormenting impression did not leave him: that those broad- boned reddish hands with hairy wrists visible from under the shirt sleeves, those hands which he loved and hated, held him in their power.
"And why did she resist her seducer when she loved him?" he thought.
I have loved you from the very first moment I saw you.
"You know that from the very day you first came to Otradnoe I have loved you," she cried, quite convinced that she spoke the truth.
Could he be to blame toward her, or could her father, whom she knew loved her in spite of it all, be unjust?
He wrote that he had never loved as he did now and that only now did he understand and know what life was.
Prince Andrew had loved his wife, she died, but that was not enough: he wanted to bind his happiness to another woman.
She wept quietly, and felt that she was a sinner who loved her father and little nephew more than God.
There was no need to say more: Julie's face shone with triumph and self- satisfaction; but she forced Boris to say all that is said on such occasions--that he loved her and had never loved any other woman more than her.
She loved and knew Prince Andrew, he loved her only, and was to come one of these days and take her.
All will be forgiven her, for she loved much; and all will be forgiven him, for he enjoyed much.
She was tormented by the insoluble question whether she loved Anatole or Prince Andrew.
She loved Prince Andrew--she remembered distinctly how deeply she loved him.
But she also loved Anatole, of that there was no doubt.
She recalled her love for Prince Andrew in all its former strength, and at the same time felt that she loved Kuragin.
Yes, she loved him, or else how could that have happened which had happened?
Then he went on to say that he knew her parents would not give her to him--for this there were secret reasons he could reveal only to her--but that if she loved him she need only say the word yes, and no human power could hinder their bliss.
How is it you have loved a man for a whole year and suddenly...
It seems to me I've loved him a hundred years.
It seems to me that I have never loved anyone before.
More than once they had beaten him, and more than once they had made him drunk on champagne and Madeira, which he loved; and he knew more than one thing about each of them which would long ago have sent an ordinary man to Siberia.
That Prince Andrew's deeply loved affianced wife--the same Natasha Rostova who used to be so charming--should give up Bolkonski for that fool Anatole who was already secretly married (as Pierre knew), and should be so in love with him as to agree to run away with him, was something Pierre could not conceive and could not imagine.
The old man was still sitting in the ornamental garden, like a fly impassive on the face of a loved one who is dead, tapping the last on which he was making the bast shoe, and two little girls, running out from the hot house carrying in their skirts plums they had plucked from the trees there, came upon Prince Andrew.
Yes, indeed, I loved her.
"I not only understood her, but it was just that inner, spiritual force, that sincerity, that frankness of soul-- that very soul of hers which seemed to be fettered by her body--it was that soul I loved in her... loved so strongly and happily..." and suddenly he remembered how his love had ended.
He said that in all his life he had loved and still loved only one woman, and that she could never be his.
Afterwards when he had received a name and wealth he dared not think of her because he loved her too well, placing her far above everything in the world, and especially therefore above himself.
It is possible to love someone dear to you with human love, but an enemy can only be loved by divine love.
That is why I experienced such joy when I felt that I loved that man.
And of them all, I loved and hated none as I did her.
With a softened, happy, timid look she watched the boy she loved in the arms of the man she loved.
Her position in the house was such that only by sacrifice could she show her worth, and she was accustomed to this and loved doing it.
She knew that Natasha loved no one but Prince Andrew and had never ceased to love him.
Karataev had no attachments, friendships, or love, as Pierre understood them, but loved and lived affectionately with everything life brought him in contact with, particularly with man--not any particular man, but those with whom he happened to be.
He loved his dog, his comrades, the French, and Pierre who was his neighbor, but Pierre felt that in spite of Karataev's affectionate tenderness for him (by which he unconsciously gave Pierre's spiritual life its due) he would not have grieved for a moment at parting from him.
Latterly she had become convinced that she loved and was beloved, though she never said this definitely to herself in words.
She knew that she loved for the first and only time in her life and felt that she was beloved, and was happy in regard to it.
There was only one expression on her agitated face when she ran into the drawing room--that of love--boundless love for him, for her, and for all that was near to the man she loved; and of pity, suffering for others, and passionate desire to give herself entirely to helping them.
He, the sensitive, tender Prince Andrew, how could he say that, before her whom he loved and who loved him?
She did not think of applying submission and self-abnegation to her own life, for she was accustomed to seek other joys, but she understood and loved in another those previously incomprehensible virtues.
When she smiled doubt was no longer possible, it was Natasha and he loved her.
I am sure he really loved him.
I don't know when I began to love her, but I have loved her and her alone all my life, and I love her so that I cannot imagine life without her.
The whole meaning of life--not for him alone but for the whole world--seemed to him centered in his love and the possibility of being loved by her.
"Can she have loved my brother so little as to be able to forget him so soon?" she thought when she reflected on the change.
But the princess had caught a glimpse of the man she had known and loved, and it was to him that she now spoke.
No, it was not only that gay, kind, and frank look, not only that handsome exterior, that I loved in him.
She felt he had a world apart, which he loved passionately and which had laws she had not fathomed.
From broken remarks about Natasha and his father, from the emotion with which Pierre spoke of that dead father, and from the careful, reverent tenderness with which Natasha spoke of him, the boy, who was only just beginning to guess what love is, derived the notion that his father had loved Natasha and when dying had left her to his friend.
I loved you, but I have orders from Arakcheev and will kill the first of you who moves forward.
She was equally certain that he would have loved them.
Maybe he loved his children more than she gave him credit for.
I loved him and he left me.
He loved the animals, his home and the clinic.
When we were in Texas, I got the feeling that Señor Medena loved Alex - that he was saddened by the way Alex rejected him.
She needs to be loved... touched.
He said he loved her.
I thought he loved us.
Last night she could have sworn he loved her.
"I've always loved the piglets," she said; "but they don't love me."
By some means, however, he learned to read; and after that he loved nothing so much as a good book.
Al Mansur loved poetry and was fond of hearing poets repeat their own verses.
This boy loved pictures.
They sang their sweetest songs to show how much they loved him.
Being superior to physical suffering, it sometimes chanced that they were superior to any consolation which the missionaries could offer; and the law to do as you would be done by fell with less persuasiveness on the ears of those who, for their part, did not care how they were done by, who loved their enemies after a new fashion, and came very near freely forgiving them all they did.
It is only Malvinas and women of that kind who are loved for their beauty.
Knowing Howie, I felt certain he loved her enough to forgive her.
She had once loved her father – probably still did.