Romantic

I've flown across America, I've scaled fences, I've stood under windows and gone out of my way hundreds of times. I'm a hopeless romantic. There's no hope for me.

I'm not about to talk about what's romantic in my life - I figure if you talk about it once - then that's an open invitation for everyone to dig into your personal life even further.

I'm not about to talk about what's romantic in my life - I figure if you talk about it once, then that's an open invitation for everyone to dig into your personal life even further. So, I just keep my private life to myself.

My granddaddy on my momma's side, he was a romantic. He loved love songs. Every Valentine's Day, I remember him buying a red carnation for my grandmomma, my momma and my sister. That was something you could count on every year.

I love Valentine's Day! I love it, I love it, I love it. I like having doors opened for me. My favorite romantic comedy is 'When Harry Met Sally.'

You cannot look up at the night sky on the Planet Earth and not wonder what it's like to be up there amongst the stars. And I always look up at the moon and see it as the single most romantic place within the cosmos.

That on a romantic level, if you feel it about somebody and it's pure, it means that they do too.

I think romance is anything honest. As long as it's honest, it's so disarming.

Love, whether newly born, or aroused from a deathlike slumber, must always create sunshine, filling the heart so full of radiance, this it overflows upon the outward world.

My dearly beloved if I am to die today and never see the sweet face of you I want you to know that I am no great man and am lucky to have such a woman as you.

Of all the music that reached farthest into heaven, it is the beating of a loving heart.

It is better to have loved and lost than never to have lost at all.

My heart is like a singing bird.

When men attempt bold gestures, generally it's considered romantic. When women do it, it's often considered desperate or psycho.

The curse of the romantic is a greed for dreams, an intensity of expectation that, in the end, diminishes the reality.

Romance is the glamour which turns the dust of everyday life into a golden haze.

Beauty, sweet love, is like the morning dew, Whose short refresh upon tender green, Cheers for a time, but till the sun doth show And straight is gone, as it had never been.

I am a hopeless romantic. And I won't stop till I get it right.

If a June night could talk, it would probably boast it invented romance.

All the beautiful sentiments in the world weigh less than a single lovely action.