I read the most romantic thing in THREE CUPS OF TEA (the story of Greg Mortenson, who failed at climbing K2 but turned to building schools for children, especially girls, in Pakistan & Afghanistan). This conversation transpired the evening he met his wife-to-be, ending up at her apartment:
Her: “Welcome to my home.”
Him: “Welcome to my heart.”
Here’s something equally romantic, tho’ very different, that just happened to me:
Teenage son, already p.o.’ed at me, cuts me off as I’m trying to help him with something, and asks DH instead.
DH (or should I say, DDDDDDH) replies, rather hotly, “I have NO interest in helping you after the way you just treated my wife.” Burning gaze elicits contrite apologies from son.
Warmed my heart.