Bristly Brushing Quotes

By our pontifical assertions, our superior impatience, and our casual brushing aside of their curiosity, we do not encourage their inquiry, for we are rather apprehensive of what may be asked of us; we do not foster their discontent, for we ourselves have ceased to question. ~ Jiddu Krishnamurti

Mara, I have never felt about anyone the way I feel about you. And when you're ready for me to show you," he said, brushing my hair to the side, "I'm going to kiss you." His thumb grazed my ear and his hand curved around my neck. He leaned me backward and my eyes fluttered closed. I breathed in the scent of him as he leaned in and kissed the hollow under my ear. My pulse raced under his lips.
"And I won't settle for anything less. ~ Michelle Hodkin

Sometimes when I'm brushing my teeth, I'll look at the mirror and I swear my reflection seems kind of disappointed. I realized a couple of years ago that not only am I not super-skilled at anything, I'm not even particularly good at being myself. ~ Charles Yu

Kissed me like he had all the time in the world. Slowly at first, just a brushing of his mouth against mine, and then deeper, parting my lips with his tongue. It wasn't just a kiss. Not when his tongue danced over mine or the way he tasted me. Reece turned kissing into an art form, and if I had to attach a color to it, to get it on canvas, it would be supple shades of reds and purples. ~ J. Lynn

Effortlessly, the man sowed the idea of sex with his quips, the smiles, and something as innocent as their legs brushing against one another. ~ Melissa Blue

But the young sapper was already on his back, the rifle aimed, his eye almost brushing the beards of Noah and Abraham and the variety of demons until he reached the great face and was stilled by it, the face like a spear, wise, unforgiving. ~ Michael Ondaatje

My goal is that after seeing 'Grand Canyon,' every person in the audience will go home knowing they have to conserve water: even something as simple as installing a low-flow toilet or showerhead, or turning off the faucet while they're brushing their teeth. ~ Greg MacGillivray

If you ever try to change my memories again, I will slap you into next spring." I took a breath, knees shaking as I felt small beside him, my white dress brushing against his black trousers. Some women get flowers or poems from their suitors. I get insults and threats. ~ Dawn Cook

Oscar's breath warmed the back of her head, his lips brushing against her hair, loosened from a braid. He drew a lock away from her neck and kissed the skin just beneath her earlobe, against the throb of her quickening pulse. Like the blackness outside the dome of lamplight, there seemed to be nothing more in the world than his lips, his touch, and the flood of heat consuming her.
With a gentle nudge, Oscar turned her toward him. He looked at her the way he had in the Grampains meadow-as if she was the most fascinating woman he'd ever seen. Under his gaze she felt fascinating, too. Capivating…wanted. He traced her jaw with his lips, kissing the angle of her neck ever so tenderly, as though he weren't certain she wanted him, too. Camille closed the inch of space left between them, her body pressing against his. The muscles in his chest and arms tightened. He was wanted, and she needed to show him how much. No one was there to watch, no one to judge, or tell her the lips caressing her were unworthy of tasting her skin.
With those very thoughts, Oscar's grip loosened. His lips retreated.
"This isn't right," he whispered, catching his breath.
Camille stared at him, her hurt and disappointment plain on her face.
"You're engaged, Camille." He looked around the room. His eyes rested on the bed. "I shouldn't be here."
All of a sudden, Camille completely and fully detested Randall. Good, sweet, well-meaning Randall infuriated her with his mere existence, ~ Angie Frazier

Wait," he said, and he had his hand outstretched toward me, fingertips just brushing the sleeve of my sweatshirt, gently rooting me to the spot. I wanted to shrug him off, but at the same time, I wanted to fall against him and bury my face in his shoulder. I wanted to commiserate about what had just happened, and make sure he was okay, and discuss how Stanton really is psychotic. I did none of the above. ~ Emma Mills

I feel completely embarrassed and remember the lock on the door and think: He knows, he knows, it shows, shows completely.
"He's out back," Mr. Garret tells me mildly, "unpacking shipments." Then he returns to the papers.
I feel compelled to explain myself. "I just thought I'd come by. Before babysitting. You, know, at your house. Just to say hi. So . . . I'm going to do that now. Jase's in back, then? I'll just say hi."
I'm so suave.
I can hear the ripping sound of the box cutter before I even open the rear door to find Jase with a huge stack of cardboard boxes. His back's to me and suddenly I'm as shy with him as I was with his father.
This is silly.
Brushing through my embarrassment, I walk up, put my hand on his shoulder.
He straightens up with a wide grin. "Am I glad to see you!"
"Oh, really?"
"Really. I thought you were Dad telling me I was messing up again. I've been a disaster all day. Kept knocking things over. Paint cans, our garden display. He finally sent me out here when I knocked over a ladder. I think I'm a little preoccupied."
"Maybe you should have gotten more sleep," I offer.
"No way," he says. Then we just gaze at each other for a long moment.
For some reason, I expect him to look different, the way I expected I would myself in the mirror this morning . . . I thought I would come across richer, fuller, as happy outside as I was inside, but the only thing that showed was my lips puffy from kisses. J ~ Huntley Fitzpatrick

When a little of his strength returned he moved onto his side, taking her with him, still a part of her. Her hair spilled over his naked chest like a rumpled satin waterfall, and he lifted a shaking hand to smooth it off her face, feeling humbled and blessed by her sweetness and unselfish ardor.
Several minutes later Elizabeth stirred in his arms, and he tipped her chin up so that he could gaze into her eyes. "Have I ever told you that you are magnificent?
She started to shake her head, then suddenly remembered that he had told her she was magnificent once before, and the recollection brought poignant tears to her eyes. "You did say that to me," she amended, brushing her fingers over his smooth shoulder because she couldn't seem to stop touching him. "You told me that when we were together-"
"In the woodcutter's cottage," he finished for her, recalling the occasion as well. In reply she had chided him for acting as if he also thought Charise Dumont was magnificent, Ian remembered, regretting all the time they had lost since then…the days and nights she could have been in his arms as she was now. "Do you know how I spent the rest of the afternoon after you left the cottage?" he asked softly. When she shook her head, he said with a wry smile, "I spent it pleasurably contemplating tonight. At the time, of course, I didn't realize tonight was years away." He paused to draw the sheet up over her back so she wouldn't be chilled, then he continued in the same quiet vo ~ Judith McNaught

I've been busy," said Ford, rather weakly. He staggered to his feet, brushing himself down. Then he thought, what the hell was he saying things weakly for? He had to get on top of this situation. ~ Douglas Adams

You drive me crazy," he growled.
She leaned down, her breasts brushing against his chest. "It's a good look for you. ~ Lisa Kessler

I keep thinking of all the people who cast despairing eyes toward the dark heavens and cry "Why?" And I imagine him. I imagine him listening. I picture his eyes misting and a pierced hand brushing away a tear. And although he may offer no answer, although he may solve no dilemma, although the question may freeze painfully in midair, he who also was once alone, understands. ~ Max Lucado

You'll get a lot of 'no' RSVPs to your next party," I said, brushing the smoldering bits from my costume. His smile only widened. "This isn't the first party I've thrown where fewer guests left than arrived. ~ Jeaniene Frost

It would be many years before I began to understand that all of life is practice: writing, driving, hiking, brushing teeth, packing lunch boxes, making beds, cooking dinner, making love, walking dogs, even sleeping. We are always practicing. Only practicing. ~ Dani Shapiro

When you hear music so beautiful it gives you chills, those are angel wings brushing against you. ~ Tiffany Reisz

Excellent," said Cinder, standing up and brushing off her hands. "I was beginning to worry we wouldn't have a pilot for when it's time to take Kai back to Earth. Now I just have to worry about not having a competent one. ~ Marissa Meyer

Sorry, he said, kissing me lightly once more and brushing my hair from my face. I'd never seen a less sorry person in my life. ~ Annabel Monaghan

You don't have to call me that, you know," she said, brushing her hair back from her shoulders. "There was a time when you called me Winter."

He leaned his elbows on the enclosure wall. "There was also a time when I could come visit you without feeling like I was supposed to toss bread crumbs to earn your favor."

"Bread crumbs? Do I look like a goose?"

He tilted his head to the side. "You don't look like an arctic wolf, either, but that's what the plaque tells me I'm looking at."

Winter leaned back on her hands. "I will not play fetch," she said, "but I might howl if you ask nicely."

He grinned. "I've heard your howl. It's not very wolf-like, either."

"I've been practicing."

"You won't bite me if I come in there, will you?"

"I make no guarantees."

Jacin hopped over the rail and came to sit beside her. She raised an eyebrow. "You don't look like an arctic wolf, either."

"I also don't howl." He considered. "Though I might play fetch, depending on the prize."

"The prize is another game of fetch."

"You drive a hard bargain. ~ Marissa Meyer

Mad Rogan was walking next to me with that same confident stride that had made me notice him back in the arboretum, and I knew precisely where he was and how much distance separated us. My whole body was focused on him. I wanted him to touch me. I didn't want him touching me. I was waiting for him to touch me. I didn't know what the hell I wanted.
"Did you like the carnations?"
I reached into my pocket and handed him a small red card. "Texas Children's Hospital is grateful to you for your generous donation. Thanks to you, every one of their rooms has beautiful flowers this morning. They think it might be at least partially tax deductible, and if your people talk to their people, the hospital will provide the necessary paperwork."
Mad Rogan took the card, brushing my hand with his warm, dry fingers. The card shot out of his hand and landed in the nearby trash bin. ~ Ilona Andrews

Sometimes when I'm in the midst of all this, I can hear my mother saying, 'Democracy is just something you must do every day, like brushing your teeth. ~ Gloria Steinem

Sorry, sorry, don't mind me, coming through, oh why hello there - " This to a particularly handsome Kai look-alike droid, which had no more reaction than any of the others. "Or not," she muttered, brushing past him. "Pardon me, a little space, please? ~ Marissa Meyer

My lack of faith in God is not a dilapidated house.
It does not need to be razed to the ground or burned down to cinders.
I refuse to be the wounded woman on a cross
that you crucify with your disapproval like nails;
I will only be the woman who believes in thunderstorms
the same way lightning loves the tops of trees it strikes
every time it gets tired of being pent up in an unforgiving sky,
the only difference is that I believe these are natural weather phenomenons,
not God's belly rumbling or synapses firing.
When my doorway is filled with groups of people
wielding religious conversion pamphlets like crossbows,
I will be the martyr who steps aside to let the arrows
crack through the plaster in my wall instead of piercing my chest.
This is not a eulogy to the believer I could have been.
This is a battle cry to the believer I always have been,
believer in sunsets like splashes of paint, handholding
like willow branches brushing one another, new mornings
after old nights spent drowning in despair, believer
in love as an entire language instead of a single word.
Just because my beliefs align themselves on a different spectrum
does not mean they are the wrong wavelength or color.
And even though I think the universe was created by the Big Bang
instead of a God with magic dust shooting from his fingertips,
my universe does not contain fewer stars. ~ Meggie Royer

The amazing thing is that we're part of people's daily lives, like brushing their teeth. It's just something they do throughout the day while working, buying things, deciding what to do after work and much more. Google has been accepted as part of people's lives. ~ Larry Page

Silas nods and turns to back the car up, accidently brushing a hand against my shoulders as he does so.
"Sorry," he says under his breath, like he's whispering in church. I shake my head as Scarlett settles her long arms and legs in the backseat and uses her cloak as a blanket.
Still trying to lean somewhere between the door of death and Silas's shoulder, I stare out the window as we lumber out of town. The road is smooth, hypnotic, with the dotted lines vanishing rhythmically before us. I glance back at my sister. She's fallen asleep, and Screwtape is casting her dark looks, as if she's to blame for his predicament.
I looked toward Silas, trying to appear as if I'm just glancing out his window. Really, I want to study him intensely. He's wearing one of his many nearly threadbare T-shirts, jeans that are soft from washing, wavy hair . . . Everything about him begs to be touched . . .
"You're nervous," Silas says suddenly.
"What? No!" I answer sharply. Am I that obvious?
Silas raises an eyebrow and laughs.
"It makes sense. I mean, you and Lett have lived in Ellison forever." Right . . . right. He's talking about the trip, not my resisting the temptation to fall on him. We're silent for a moment, nearly tangible awkwardness floating around the front seats. Silas drums his fingers on the steering wheel. ~ Jackson Pearce

Over the years I must have spent thousands of hours silently brushing on the liquid coatings, preparing each sheet in anticipation of reaching the perfect print. ~ Irving Penn

It's like we made promises last night, and you're not sure you can keep them." "Yeah," Carson confessed, his lips brushing Dale's chest. Dale pulled him tight against his chest and dropped a kiss on his hair. "Don't be scared, baby. We'll find a way. I'm not a fan of letting go. ~ Amy Lane

I've always thought that we have to bring our spirituality into our everyday life such as even brushing our teeth with God. ~ Dorothy Maclean

Are you all right, he whispered, his lips brushing the tips of my spiky hair. Granted, I knew he was only being discreet so as to save poor Hillary from being reamed again, but my knees didn't know the difference. They betrayed me, buckling under his hot breath on my ear and the deep whisper that tickled my senses. ~ Gwenn Wright

I silently hand him back the newspaper and he takes it, his fingertips brushing mine. The contact makes my skin tingle. Stupid handsome bastard. ~ L. H. Cosway

I slide my feet onto the seat next to him, my ankle brushing against his thigh. "No shallowness of breath? No rapidly beating heart?"
He rests one hand on my foot as he continues to mess with his phone. His eyes meet mine in amusement. "Are those the indicators? I might have an issue after all. ~ Kasie West

As a wave caught her, splashing her legs, she gasped and whirled around with a laugh. Shiro watched her from a few paces away and she paused, uncertain and self-consious. He crossed the sand to join her, and as she blinked up at him, he raised a hand, his thumb brushing the corner of her mouth. "Don't stop smiling", he murmured. ~ Annette Marie

He was lounging in a cubicle beside an outdated computer, hands shoved into the pockets of his faded jeans. A wavy lock of hair covered his forehead, brushing against thick lashes. His lips curled into a half smile. "I was wondering if you were ever going to find me." He made no move to clear up any space in the tiny 6x6 hole.
I dropped my bag outside the walls and hopped up on the desk opposite him. "Embarrassed someone would see you and think you're capable of reading?"
"I do have a reputation to maintain."
"And what a lovely reputation that is."
He stretched out his legs so that his feet were under mine. "So what did you want to talk about" - his voice lowered to a deep, sexy whisper - "in private?"
I shivered - and it had nothing to do with the temperature. "Not what you're hoping."
Daemon gave me a sexy smirk. ~ Jennifer L. Armentrout

Prophet's legs opened wider, pushing against the barrier of Tom's legs. "Yeah, that's right . . . let me in," Tom urged, and Prophet wanted to tell him to fuck off, but he couldn't. Not when Tom entered him with a finger. A few twists to open him, coupled with several swipes of his prostate, and Prophet was pushing his hips up to meet Tom's motions. "Good. That's what I want to see." "Fuck your good," Prophet growled, but his voice was too raw and gave away exactly what he was feeling. Tom added another finger, turned them until Prophet groaned his surrender. The sensation of Tom's fingertips brushing his gland made him shudder. He kept his hands above his head, didn't try to break Tom's grip. He'd have rug burn on his ass by the end of this, and he didn't care. Tom was here. Home. Safe. Now, so was he. "Go ~ S.E. Jakes

I made some friends at Listerine and they taught me a little bit about oral care. That half of adults suffer from oral disease, that the number one chronic disease among children is oral disease, that we're only taking care of 25% of our mouths when brushing alone and there are more germs in your mouth than there are people on the planet. ~ Ginnifer Goodwin

Don't give in," he murmured, brushing his mouth against my lower lip. "Give over. ~ Nina Lane

Check it out. I got a new name tag today." He unclipped it and held it out toward me.
I looked at it. "A. GUY."
He grinned. "Someone actually asked me what the A stood for," he said, his hand brushing mine as he took the tag back, sliding it into his pocket. "I said Larry. ~ Elizabeth Scott

I decided at that moment that we would find a way to be together. The future was terrifying, but we would face it together ... our pelts brushing,our tails twined. Our hearts in love,forever. -CrowfeatherXLeafpool. Secrets of the Clans pg.122 ~ Erin Hunter