Ashes In The Mouth Quotes

We laugh, we sing, we dance, we love, we hate, we triumph and strive for joys that turn to ashes in the mouth, and all the time the divine phenomenon of life is working out its completion beneath those shadowy appearances of things real. ~ Anonymous

This is glorious!' I cried, and then i looked at the sinner by my side. He sat with his head sunk on his breast and said 'Yes', without raising his eyes, as if afraid to see writ large on the clear sky of the offing the reproach of his romantic conscience. ~ Joseph Conrad

She tries to maintain a nondescript exterior; she learns the sideways glance instead of looking at people directly. She speaks in practised, precise sentences so that she is not misunderstood. She chooses her words carefully, and if someone addresses her in Punjabi, she answers in Urdu, because an exchange in her mother tongue might be considered a promise of intimacy. She uses English for medical terms only, because she feels if she uses a word of English in her conversation she might be considered a bit forward. When she walks she walks with slightly hurried steps, as if she has an important but innocent appointment to keep. She avoids eye contact, she looks slightly over people's heads as if looking out for somebody who might come into view at any moment. She doesn't want anyone to think that she is alone and nobody is coming for her. She sidesteps even when she sees a boy half her age walking towards her, she walks around little puddles when she can easily leap over them; she thinks any act that involves stretching her legs might send the wrong signal. After all, this is not the kind of thing where you can leave your actions to subjective interpretations. She never eats in public. Putting something in your mouth is surely an invitation for someone to shove something horrible down your throat. If you show your hunger, you are obviously asking for something. ~ Mohammed Hanif

She fell asleep rapidly, swimming through a haze of pleasant images... walking through the forest in Hampshire... dangling her feet in a cool pond on a hot day... pausing in the kissing gate, while the smell of sun-warmed meadowsweet rose thickly to her nostrils. She closed her eyes and tilted her chin upward, relishing the sultry rays, while a butterfly's wings brushed lightly against her cheek. Entranced by the delicate tickle, she held very still. The silken strokes moved over the tip of her nose, the sensitive periphery of her upper lip, the tender corners of her mouth.
Searching blindly, she lifted her face to the brushes of warmth and was rewarded by a gentle pressure that opened her lips and drew a moan from the upper part of her lungs. Lord Sydney was standing with her in the kissing gate, his arms trapping her against the painted ribs of latticework. His mouth searched hers so gently, his body firm against hers, and she writhed in a mute plea for him to hold her more tightly. Seeming to know exactly what she wanted, he pushed his knee into her skirts, right against the place that felt swollen and yearning. Gasping, she curled her fingers in his glossy hair, and he whispered for her to relax, that he would take care of her, satisfy her-
"Oh." Blinking hard, she stirred from the sensuous dream as she realized that she was not alone. The bed curtains had been drawn aside, and Nick Gentry's long body was entangled with hers. One large hand was cupped beneath he ~ Lisa Kleypas

Guess what?" Maggie said as soon as I walked into Celmentine's.
"What?"
She clapped her hands. "I have a date to the prom!"
"Guess what?" I replied.
"What?"
"I don't." Her mouth dropped open. "Oh, and," I added, "I bought a bike."
.... "Okay, let's just slow down." She held up her hands, palms facing me. "First things first. What do you mean, you don't have a date?"
"Just that," I said, sitting down at the desk. "Jason bailed on me."
"Again?"
I nodded.
"When?"
"About twenty minutes ago."
"Oh, my God." She put her hand over her mouth: her expression was so horrified, like someone had died. "That's the worst thing ever."
"No," I said, swallowing. "It's actually not."
"No?"
I shook my head. "The worst thing is that right afterward, I marched right into the bike shop and asked Eli to go with me, and he said no."
She threw up her other hand, clapping it over the one already covering her mouth. "Holy crap," she said, her voice muffled. "Where does the bike come in?"
"I don't know," I said, waving my hand. "That part's kind of a blur. ~ Sarah Dessen

Don't stride so, Russell!" Holmes whispered fiercely. "Throw your boots out in front of you as you walk and let your elbows stick out a bit. It would help if you let your mouth hang open stupidly, and for God's sake take off your glasses, at least until we get out of town. I won't allow you to walk into anything. Do you think you could persuade your nose to drip a bit, just for the effect? ~ Laurie R. King

The kiss was everything she hadn't dared let herself think about. Slow. Hot. Hungry. His lips molded to hers, drinking up her small, breathless exhale before his tongue skimmed across hers. Bree reached out and gripped his shirt, tugging him until he was flush against her. The man knew how to kiss, and she felt her mind emptying of everything but how incredible his mouth felt working deeper into hers. Every nip, every silky stroke of his tongue, every breath dragged between their mouths made her hold on tighter. The second he stopped, the real world would slide back into place, and more than anything, she wanted this. Wanted Finn with an unexpected yearning that burrowed deeper with each second he continued to kiss her. He cupped the nape of her neck, tipping her head back as he deepened the kiss. She whimpered, catching his bottom lip between hers. His thumb trailed along her jawline, and she shuddered in its wake, wanting his mouth there. Wanting ~ Sydney Somers

I should like to take your head apart, put a fact in it, and watch it go its way through the runnels of your brain until it comes out of your mouth. We were both born here, we went to the same schools, we were taught the same things. I wonder what you saw and heard. ~ Harper Lee

She had been struck by the figure of a woman's back in a mirror. She stopped and looked. The dress the figure wore was the color called ashes of roses, and Ada stood, held in place by a sharp stitch of envy or th woman's dress and the fine shape of her back and her thick dark hair and the sense of assurance she seemed to evidence in her very posture.
Then Ada took a step forward, and the other woman did too, and Ada realized that it was herself she was admiring, the mirror having caught the reflection of an opposite mirror on the wall behind her. The light of the lamps and the tint of the mirrors had conspired to shift colors, bleaching mauve to rose. She climbed the steps to her room and prepared for bed, but she slept poorly that night, for the music went on until dawn. As she lay awake she thought how odd it had felt to win her own endorsement. ~ Charles Frazier

It was not a purer realm that loomed vastly over the city. Smokestacks punctured the membrane between the land and the air and disgorged tons of poisonous smog into that upper world as if out of spite. In a thicker, stinking haze just above the rooftops, the detritus from a million low chimneys eddied together. Crematoria vented into the airborne ashes of wills burnt by jealous executors, which mixed with coaldust burnt to keep dying lovers warm. Thousands of sordid smoke-ghosts wrapped New Crobuzon in a stench that suffocated like guilt. ~ China Mieville

And the pain is too much it's too much it's too much and my hands are on my head and I'm rearing back and my mouth is open in a never-ending wordless wail of all the blackness that's inside me.
And i fall back into it. ~ Patrick Ness

I look out the window, a jammed-up feeling growing inside. Am I going to cry? Or is it something else? My eyes are dry, but I feel like something wants to burst out of me. I focus on the empty road outside. Hold back. Hold it in. Keep your mouth shut, Jenna. Keep it shut. Shut. Shut. ~ Mary E. Pearson

This is what nibbling your ear sounds like." Blake created a soundtrack for his teeth.
"This is what looking into your eyes sounds like." The notes were deep and beckoning.
"This is what my mind hears when my tongue is in your mouth." The kiss sounded steamy and delicate. The rhythm was her heartbeat as he sampled her mouth.
"But when you smile. When you smile it's ... "
Blake scooted the keyboard around behind her. He needed both hands.
She put her hands on his face and smiled in amazement as the music exploded. She couldn't imagine how her simple facial gesture could inspire such a majestic sound.
He smiled back. "One thousand nine hundred and ten."
"So many? Really?"
"Yes, really. And it's not nearly enough. I want to lose count, Livia. Make me lose count." His hands left the beautiful music and grabbed handfuls of her hair. ~ Debra Anastasia

As for me, this is my covenant with them," says the LORD. "My Spirit, who is on you, will not depart from you, and my words that I have put in your mouth will always be on your lips, on the lips of your children and on the lips of their descendants - from this time on and forever," says the LORD. ~ Mark Batterson

In the afternoon dark clouds suddenly color the sky a mysterious shade and it starts raining hard, pounding the roof and windows of the cabin. I strip naked and run outside, washing my face with soap and scrubbing myself all over. It feels wonderful. In my joy I shut my eyes and shout out meaningless words as the large raindrops strike me on the cheeks, the eyelids, chest, side, penis, legs, and butt - the stinging pain like a religious initiation or something. Along with the pain there's a feeling of closeness, like for once in my life the world's treating me fairly. I feel elated, as if all of a sudden I've been set free. I face the sky, hands held wide apart, open my mouth wide, and gulp down the falling rain. ~ Haruki Murakami

You'll also need to invest in yourself with the kind of promo that targets your specific audience to help build that word of mouth. Most importantly, believe in what you're doing and in your music and lyrics. ~ Eliot Lewis

Cross," she whispered. "Please-"
And in that plea, he lost himself. "Yes, love," he said, inhaling her heady, glorious scent. "I'll give you everything you want. Everything you need."
He stroked into her softness again, and he wondered at the way she wept for him, not knowing what he would give her... what he could do to her... and wanting it nonetheless. "Do you feel it? The truth of it? How much you want me?"
"I want..." she started, then stopped.
He turned his head, nipping at the soft skin of her inner thigh, reveling in the softness there- that untouched, uncharted, silken spread. "Say it." He would give it to her. Anything in his power. Anything beyond it.
She looked down at him, blue eyes fairly glowing with desire. "I want you to want me."
He closed his eyes at that; trust Pippa to be forthright even here, even now, even as she bared herself to his eyes and mouth and hands. Trust her to strip this moment of all remaining shrouds, leaving it raw and bare and honest.
God help him, he told her the truth. He wasn't certain he could do anything but. "I do, love. I want you more than you could ever know. More than I could have ever dreamed. I want you enough for two men. For ten."
She laughed at that, the sound coming on a wicked movement of strong hips and soft stomach. "I don't require ten. Just you."
Even as he knew he would never be worthy enough for her, the words went straight to the hard, straining length of him, and he k ~ Sarah MacLean

You cannot say - A body translates its you - you there, hey you even as it loses the location of its mouth. When you lay your body in the body entered as if skin and bone were public places, when you lay your body in the body entered as if you're the ground you walk on, you know no memory should live in these memories becoming the body of you. ~ Claudia Rankine

In any case, Maya's efficiency of speech was extremely helpful in the maintenance of a relationship that I was subconsciously keeping on the knife-edge between casual and serious. She was capable of talking with her eyes and her body, but she mostly chose to use her mouth. I didn't mind this. ~ Hank Green

Let her arm go and pray she has no bruise," a familiar voice said in a low angry tone. I shuddered from relief at the sound of his voice. Trey released my arm and shrugged, grinning. "I just wanted an oyster, and she wouldn't serve me." I opened my mouth to protest when the warm fingers holding my arm softly squeezed me for reassurance. So, I stayed quiet. "Jason, please escort your friend to the door. I have no other reason to speak with him unless Sadie has a bruise or any lasting marks from his hands, and then he will see me again. ~ Abbi Glines

He lifted his head and looked into her eyes as he tugged at her shirt, pulling it from beneath her, pulling it over her head until she lay beneath him in her bra, and an insubstantial one at that. His nostrils flared as he took in the sight of her in the dim light, and he trailed his fingertips over the slope of her breast to touch her extended nipple. She held her breath in anticipation as he paused, then rolled it between his fingers. When he bent his head, she closed her eyes, and let the heat of his mouth become the focal point of her world. ~ M.J. Fredrick

Teeth represent only 10 percent of the surface of your mouth and bacteria live throughout the whole mouth. When you stop brushing, bacteria left behind resettle on your teeth and gums. Oil pulling reaches virtually 100 percent of the mouth, thereby affecting all bacteria, viruses, fungi, and protozoa in the mouth. ~ Bruce Fife

I know that. I just don't feel it sometimes. Over there I felt like I
hadn't a care in the world. Things felt so good and it was almost as
if every muscle in my body relaxed the moment I landed there. I
haven't laughed so much in years. I felt like a 23-year-old, Steph. I
haven't felt like that much lately. I know this probably sounds weird
but I felt like the me that I could have been.
I liked that I didn't have to look out for somebody else while I
walked down the street. I didn't have the fifty near heart attacks per
day that I usually get when Katie goes missing or puts something in
her mouth that she shouldn't. I didn't have to dive onto the road
and hold her back just in time from being hit by a car. I liked that I
didn't have to give out, correct people on their pronunciation or
make threats. I liked laughing at a joke without my sleeve being
tugged at and being asked to explain. I liked having adult conversations
without being interrupted to cheer and applaud a silly dance
or the learning of a new word. I liked that I was just me, Rosie, not
mummy, thinking just about me, talking about things I liked, going
places I liked to go without having to worry about nappy changes,
bottle feeding or sleepy-head tantrums. Isn't that awful? ~ Cecelia Ahern

I can see the driver as if I'm looking at him through binoculars, bending to adjust the volume on his radio, eyes wide at what he hears, which I can't understand because when he hits you there is only silence. My feet, pounding through the grass, make no sound. I know that my mouth is open, that air is rushing across my stretched vocal chords, but I hear nothing. You lift into the air and the car is past before you land silently at my feet, as if something as small as you couldn't possibly make a sound in a world where buildings can come down. ~ Philip Beard

When he lifted his head, she clung to his shoulders, both of them breathing hard. He cradled her cheek in one palm. "I'm not asking you to believe now. I know it's too soon for that, after…well, after everything. If you can believe just for this second, then for the one after that, and after that, soon you're believing in me, in us, all the while. Think you can handle that? This second?"

She smiled, desire pulling at her again. "I can do that."

An answering smile flirted with his mouth. He kissed her. "What about this one?"

"I can do that too."

He lowered his mouth to hers again. "How about this one? ~ Linda Winfree

The back of my neck breaks out in a sweat, and I'm getting nervous. Why is he just standing there, staring at me? "What do you want?" I press, my tone curt.

He opens his mouth but then closes it swallowing.

"Pike, Jesus - "
"The day you left," he blurts out, and I stop.

I wait, listening as a look of fear crosses his eyes.

"The house was so empty," he continues. "Like a quiet that was never there before. I couldn't hear your footsteps upstairs or your hairdryer or anticipate you walking into a room. You were gone. Everything was…" he drops his eyes, "gone."

A ball lodges in my throat, and I feel tears threaten, but I tense my jaw, refusing to let it out.

"But I could still feel you," he whispers. "You were still everywhere. The container of cookies in the fridge, the backsplash you picked out, the way you put all my pictures back in the wrong spot after you dusted my bookshelves." He smiles to himself. "But I couldn't rearrange them, because you were the last to touch them, and I wanted everything the way you had it."

My chin trembles, and I fold my arms over my chest, hiding my balled fists under my arms.

He pauses and then goes on. "Nothing would ever go back to the way it was before you came into my house. I didn't want it to." He shakes his head. "I went to work, and I came home, and I stayed there every night and all weekend, every weekend, because that's where we were together. ~ Penelope Douglas, Birthday Girl

He takes out a cigarette and offers one to me.
"I try not to indulge. It's a filthy habit," I tell him.
"I love that word filthy. I love the way you force it out of your mouth like it's some kind of vermin you want to get rid of."
"You've had vermin in your mouth?"
"You're mean in that way, you know. You don't let anyone get away with pathetic analogies. ~ Melina Marchetta

I want to hear you say cock."
Lenora's eyes flash to mine. And she frowns.
"Those are cheap words. Vulgar words."
"They're real words. Hot words. Sensual words real people use in the throes of passion and fucking and lust and love. If you can't bring yourself to say it, sweetheart, you've got no business getting anywhere near it.
Lenora lifts her chin and lets out a shuddery breath. And then she looks me right in the eyes – stunning in her stubbornness – and that beautiful bud of a mouth gives me exactly what I want.
"Cock."
And it's fucking sublime. ~ Emma Chase

Where will you go if you don't get into NYU?" he asks.
"Where else?" I say. "Ole Miss, with Lucy and Morgan."
"Then Ole Miss is my backup too. Here's the thing, Jem. I'm going wherever you're going--whether it's New York or Oxford. I'm not missing my chance this time."
"Why?" The word just tumbles out of my mouth before I can stop myself. "You're going to be some kind of college superstar, whether it's the SEC or the Ivy league. You'll probably win a freaking Heisman."
"And you just might win an Oscar," he counters.
I roll my eyes. "Yeah, right. Please."
"Why not? God, Jemma, you don't even see it. How strong and smart and tenacious you are. Everything you do, you do well. I've never seen you put your mind to something and not come out on top. You win that trophy at cheer camp every single summer--what's it called, the superstar award? Only three people at the whole camp get it or something like that, right?"
"How'd you know about that?"
"Miss Shelby told my mom. I think they put it in the yearbook, too, don't they?"
"Maybe," I say with a shrug. It's not that big of a deal. It's just a cheerleading trophy.
"And how long did it take you to win your first shooting tournament after your dad bought you that gun? Six months, tops? From what I hear, you're the best shot in all of Magnolia Branch."
"Okay, that's true," I say, a smile tugging at the corners of my mouth.
He reaches for my hand. "And then there's those dresses ~ Kristi Cook

Then she bent her head over at the waist and tossed her head around to separate the curls.
The elevator stopped and she heard the door open. She straightened up to find some big guy in a ball cap and sunglasses right in her face, charging into the elevator before she could even get out of it. He had both hands full of carry-out bags - Mexican food, judging from the smell.
She looked at them, her mouth watering. Yep. Enrique's. The best in town.
He whirled around to punch the door-close button.
"Hey," she said. "I'm getting off here."
Some girl outside in the lobby yelled, "We know it's you, Chase. You shouldn't lie to us."
Startled, Elle looked at the guy's face and saw, just before he reached for her, that it really was Chase Lomax in ragged shorts and flip-flops.
He grabbed her up off her feet and bent his head. Found her mouth with his.
"Wait for us," another girl yelled. The sound of running feet echoed off the marble floor, slid to a stop. "Oh, no!"
Kissing her, without so much as a "Hi, there, Elle." Burning her up. She tried to struggle but he had both her arms pinned to her sides.
And suddenly she wanted to stay right where she was forever because the shock was wearing off and she was starting to feel. A lot more than she ever had before.
The door slid closed. The girls began banging on it.
"We know your room number, Chase, honey," they yelled. "See you there."
Loud giggles.
"We'll show you a real g ~ Genell Dellin

When the armorer opened the door, the blast of hot air that came through made Ned feel as though he were walking into a dragon's mouth. Inside, a forge blazed in each corner, ~ George R R Martin

Let the words of my mouth and the
meditation of my heart be acceptable
in your sight, my
redeemer. ~ Akosiastroboy

His gaze narrowed and she could see his
hands twitching again like he'd love nothing more than to throttle her. She was beginning to think it was an affliction of his. Did he go around wanting to choke the life out of everyone or was she special in that regard?
"I'm afraid 'tis an urge that is entirely original to you," the laird barked.
She clamped her mouth shut and closed
her eyes. Mother Serenity had vowed one day Mairin would regret her propensity to blurt out her least little thought. Today just might be that day. ~ Maya Banks

That was the end of the dialogue, because, I remember distinctly, he barely had time to say "What about the bread?" That was all. After that there was nothing but flame and noise. The kind of noise you wouldn't have thought possible. Our eyes, ears, nose, and mouth were so full of that noise I thought it was all over and I'd turned into noise and flame myself.

After a while the flame went away, the noise stayed in my head, and my arms and legs trembled as if somebody were shaking me from behind. My limbs seemed to be leaving me, but then in the end they stayed on. The smoke stung my eyes for a long time, and the prickly smell of powder and sulphur hung on, strong enough to kill all the fleas and bedbugs in the whole world. ~ Louis Ferdinand Celine

The whistling dawn, the sussurration of the leaves, a honking goose, and then a sentimental confab at the Solid Rock Gospel Church with a wounded soul who poured his heart out to Press precisely because he was blind and therefore harmless. Since these individuals had no money, he couldn't give them financial advice, just wholehearted sympathy. As at the commune, a toddler might scramble into his lap, and while he petted the child its mother held a cookie to its mouth and another one to his to bite and chew.
A world worth living in and for. ~ Edward Hoagland

Haven't I? - he thought. Haven't I thought of it since the first time I saw you? Haven't I thought of nothing else for two years? ...He sat motionless, looking at her. He heard the words he had never allowed himself to form, the words he had felt, known, yet had not faced, had hoped to destroy by never letting them be said within his own mind. Now it was as sudden and shocking as if he were saying it to her ...Since the first time I saw you ...Nothing but your body, that mouth of yours, and the way your eyes would look at me, if ...Through every sentence I ever said to you, through every conference you thought so safe, through the importance of all the issues we discussed ...You trusted me, didn't you? To recognize your greatness? To think of you as you deserved - as if you were a man? ...Don't you suppose I know how much I've betrayed? The only bright encounter of my life - the only person I respected - the best business man I know - my ally - my partner in a desperate battle ...The lowest of all desires - as my answer to the highest I've met ...Do you know what I am? I thought of it, because it should have been unthinkable. For that degrading need, which would never touch you, I have never wanted anyone but you ...I hadn't known what it was like, to want it, until I saw you for the first time. I had thought : Not I, I couldn't be broken by it ...Since then ...For two years ...With not a moments respite ...Do you know what it's like, to want it? Would you wish to hear what I ~ Ayn Rand

Before I could retrieve the bullet off the floor, Helsing jumped down, grabbed it in his mouth, and raced to tuck it under the purple pillow in his bed, where he also kept Gloria's feathers. Then he crouched, glowering, as if daring any of us to take it away. Great. My cat was a hoarder. ~ A&E Kirk

He unsnapped her jeans and said, "I want you just like this." Then he kissed her.
There was nothing romantic about Diaz, no murmured sweet things, no gallant gestures, just this kiss that went on and on, deep and voracious. She'd never been kissed like this before, with an intensity that stripped everything down to the simplest components: male, female. He held her with his hand burrowed into her hair, her skull gripped in his palm, her head tilted back while he fed from her mouth. That was what it felt like, a taking. And yet he gave, too. He gave pleasure. She burned with it, the flames fueled by nothing more than his mouth and tongue. ~ Linda Howard

TIA OR TARA has stopped applying makeup to my wife's face and is looking at Scottie with disapproval. The light is hitting this woman's face, giving me an opportunity to see that she should perhaps be working on her own makeup. Her coloring is similar to a manila envelope. There are specks of white in her eyebrows, and her concealer is not concealing. I can tell my daughter doesn't know what to do with this woman's critical look.

"What?" Scottie asks. "I don't want any makeup." She looks at me for protection, and it's heartbreaking. All the women who model with Joanie have this inane urge to make over my daughter with the notion that they're helping her somehow. She's not as pretty as her older sister or her mother, and these other models think that slapping on some rouge will somehow make her feel better about her facial fate. They're like missionaries. Mascara thumpers.

"I was just going to say that I think your mother was enjoying the view," Tia or Tara says. "It's so pretty outside. You should let the light in."

My daughter looks at the curtain. Her little mouth is open. Her hand reaches for a tumbleweed of hair.

"Listen here, T. Her mother was not enjoying the view. Her mother is in a coma. And she's not supposed to be in bright light."

"My name is not T," she says. "My name is Allison."

"Okay, then, Ali. Don't confuse my daughter, please."

"I'm turning into a remarkable young lady," Scottie say ~ Kaui Hart Hemmings