Crooked Jaw Shark Quotes

Octopuses are tough
and not just in the sense that they can take out sharks (both real and computer generated, as in Mega Shark versus Giant Octopus). They're almost pure muscle. With tridirectional muscles in the arms, they're a tad less supple than a well-marbled sirloin, to say the least (though certainly a lot more healthful). So over the centuries, people have been finding ways to make them a little easier on the jaw.
The classic tactic is beating the bejesus out of them on rocks. ~ Katherine Harmon Courage

How recently have the sharks been fed?" the guy next to me asked.
Alex and I were in a small room with a dry-erase board, a perky blonde aquarium emplyee, and three guys from Rutgers who'd won their fraternity Christmas prize. True to Alex's promise, no one had seen me in my miniscule jungle print. Another perky girl had handed me a wet suit and pointed me into a changing room. So as I listened to the basics of shark tank etiquette, I was fully encased in blue neoprene from ankle to jaw. The frat boys kept sneaking looks at me when they thought I-and Alex-wasn't looking. It made me feel just a little bit better. Alex's promise that I didn't have to get into the water if I really didn't want to helped, too. It had gotten me out of the car and into the aquarium.
"You can do it," he'd coaxed.
"Yes," I'd answered, thinking of the skateboarder a little and "fake it til you make it" more. "I can do it."
"Yesterday." Perky Girl answered the feeding question. "Believe me. They're not hungry."
I wanted to know exactly how she knew that.Did she ask the sharks?
"Okay," she chirped. "Let's get snorkeling. ~ Melissa Jensen

You're breaking my heart."
At the sound of Rider's voice, I wheeled around, clutching my bag to my side. First thing I noticed was the faded Ravens emblem stretched over his broad chest, and then I forced my eyes up. The slight scruff along his jaw was gone. Nothing but smooth skin today.
No notebook. Hands shoved into the pockets of his jeans, a familiar, crooked grin pulled at Rider's lips, causing the dimple in his right cheek to pop. He stepped forward, and my heart did a backflip as he dipped his chin. I felt his warm breath on the side of my cheek as he spoke.
"You didn't respond to my text last night," he said, and there was a light, teasing tone I didn't remember from before. "I thought maybe you didn't realize it was me, but that would mean someone else would be texting you good-night and calling you Mouse. I'm not sure how I feel about that. ~ Jennifer L. Armentrout

I blinked, and clamped my jaw shut to keep from answering, fishing through a school of thoughts like a greedy shark, watching them all dart just out of reach before I could sink my teeth into one. ~ Michael W Sherer

What it like to sail?" she asked.
His gaze shifted, and he stared into the distance. "It's freedom. Like riding a powerful horse with a gait like silk. You speed over the waves, carried on the wind, held up over an unknowable depth of water beneath you, with the entire sky above. And that sky is a different color depending on where on earth you are. There are a thousand shades of blue. You can look up and know where you are, just by the color. And the stars at night - there's indescribable beauty in the stars, like a woman's eyes, flashing, shining... And yet, they are tools, enabling navigation, a map to follow..."
She stared at his profile as he spoke, at the scars that marred his brow and cheeks, the crooked line of his broken nose, the elegant, aristocratic line of his jaw, half-hidden under the shadow of stubble, and the soft, sensual curve of his mouth. She saw the sea in his eyes, smelled the wind, tasted the salt, and she felt her chest tighten with a longing to sail, to experience speed and adventure. Breathless, she felt the presence of the man in the portrait, the rogue, the bold captain. Her heart twisted as she imagined him in prison, beaten, chained, tormented to madness. He was still a prisoner, trapped inside the cage of his injured flesh, his damaged bones, his memories of unspeakable horrors.
What would it take to set him free? ~ Lecia Cornwall

In the space of a breath, Kaz had shoved Wylan against the tomb wall with his forearm, the crow head of his cane wedged beneath Wylan's jaw. "Tell me my business again." Wylan swallowed, parted his lips. "Do it," said Kaz. "And I'll cut the tongue from your head and feed it to the first stray cat I can find. ~ Leigh Bardugo

He sang like an angel, he was faithful to God and he waited honorably
for the wife he believed God chose for him. He made two daughters who
shone like mirrors in the direct sun; he blazed his path with a scythe
and his broad shoulders, and he was who he chose to be, which is the
hardest and bravest thing a man can do. He looked at us, his parents,
his sisters, his whole crooked family, and he flexed his jaw muscles,
packed up his truck, and drove away. ~ Haven Kimmel

In the 1940s, I was doing something called the Equity Library Theater in New York, when a movie company came to see the play I was in and offered me a contract. But the deal was, my nose was too big and they wanted me to have surgery. My jaw was crooked, and I'd have to have that fixed, too. And they didn't like my name; it was too common. ~ Elizabeth Wilson

I am game for his crooked jaw, and for the jaws of Death too, Captain Ahab, if it fairly comes in the way of the business we follow; but I came here to hunt whales, not my commander's vengeance. How many barrels will thy vengeance yield thee even if thou gettest it, Captain Ahab? It will not fetch thee much in our Nantucket market. ~ Herman Melville

You listen to me," she says. Her jaw is set, ironclad. It's the game face he's seen her use to stare down Congress, to cow autocrats. Her grip on his hand is steady and strong. He wonders, half-hysterically, if this is how it felt to charge into war under Washington. "I am your mother. I was your mother before I was ever the president, and I'll be your mother long after, to the day they put me in the ground and beyond this earth. You are my child. So, if you're serious about this, I'll back your play."
Alex is silent.
But the debates, he thinks. But the general.
Her gaze is hard. He knows better than to say either of those things. She'll handle it.
"So," she says. "Do you feel forever about him?"
And there's no room left to agonize over it, nothing left to do but say the thing he's known all along.
"Yeah," he says, "I do."
Ellen Claremont exhales slowly, and she grins a small, secret grin, the crooked, unflattering one she never uses in public, the one he knows best from when he was a kid ~ Casey McQuiston

But she never thought about the way Terrible looked, at least not that way. He hadn't been ugly to her for months; he'd gone from just being a face she was familiar with to being a face she loved to look at, a face that made her ... .happy. Who gave a shit what anyone else saw when they looked at him, when they saw the crooked, many times broken nose, or the scars, or the jutting brow or thick jaw and heavy muttonchops? She knew what she saw, and that was all that mattered. Knew what was behind those hard dark eyes, and wanted it more than anything. ~ Stacia Kane

Aw, angel," he said, shaking his head as he looked around. "I get you now."

He got me? What the heck was that supposed to mean? "What?"

"You know, my grandmother is a big gardener," he said, tucking the flat of cat food under one arm and running his hand over the back of my sofa.

"That's wonderful. Now get out of my apartment."

"She's won awards 'round here for her roses," he went on his weird speech. His attention suddenly turned back toward me, pinning me into place. "She used to tell me that the prettiest roses have the biggest thorns. It's a defense mechanism. So," he said, coming closer toward me and running his finger across the side of my jaw, "I get you, Amelia Alvarado. ~ Jessica Gadziala

It's not an honest face. It's not a kind face. It's a face made of anger and secrets and lies. From the tight, guarded mouth to the clenched, square jaw to the glossy shimmer of I-dare-you that coats the surface of her eyes, Aimee's face is a scary place for Meghan's gaze to rest. But beneath the gloss, behind the sharpness and tension, deep at Aimee's core, Meghan can see something warm and real. It's the same unnameable thing she saw in the sickroom on the first day of school. It's the same thing she feels pulsing softly deep in her own chest. ~ Madeleine George

Bricks could be used to pad the pockets of crooked politicians. Why stuff their greedy pockets with cash, when we could load them up with bricks and find out how good of swimmers they are? ~ Jarod Kintz

While master of myself, I'll not permit
The soothing beauty of a tear to roll
Along the crooked contours of this nose.
There's a sublimity in tears; and I
Would not debase them;
I would never turn
Something sublime to the ridiculous. ~ Edmond Rostand

Love's pure free joy when it works, but when it goes bad you pay for the good hours at loan-shark prices. ~ David Mitchell

Hi" she said.
He gave her the sexiest crooked smile. "Hi." He stepped into her space, both his hands going to her hair, pushing it back off her face, just running his fingers through it. Touching her like he always did. "What was it you wanted?" he asked, no rush or urgency to his voice.
"You." The word fell from her lips unbidden, but she didn't' want to take it back. She didn't have time for anything but honesty. "Just you. ~ Laura Kaye

Between the whiskers scraggling down his neck and the now-crooked glasses, he could have been the Black Allen Ginsberg. ~ Garth Risk Hallberg

He put down the receiver and looked vaguely at the paper in his hand. It was a rough piece of white wrapping paper. Scrawled in pencil in ragged block letters were the words:
HE DISAGREED WITH SOMETHING THAT ATE HIM
And underneath in brackets:
(P.S. WE HAVE PLENTY MORE JOKES AS GOOD AS THIS) ~ Ian Fleming

No. It couldn't be. I shook my head, still disbelieving. Maybe the poison had warped my brain and I was delusional after all. I pulled myself to my feet, swaying against Drake, allowing his warm, hard body to prop me up.

"You know what that means."

"I do." His jaw tightened, his eyes flashing with intermingled anger and passion.

My heart, leaden and sick, suddenly was enveloped in a gentle warmth that did much to dispel the ills that had possessed it. "Are you sure? Really sure? It's not something else? Maybe you're sick."

His face grew harder. "Do you think I'm a fool that I could mistake it?"

"No, but you don't look very happy about it."

"I'm not," he snapped, irritation rampant on his handsome features.

A smile curved my lips as I kissed the corners of his mouth, ignoring the presence of those around us. "Are you going to say it?"

"No."

"Come on. I want to hear it."

"No!"

I allowed all the love I had for him to show in my eyes as I rubbed my nose on his. "Please?"

His face took on the most martyred expression I'd ever seen. "If I say it once, do I have to say it again?"

"Yes. With increasing frequency. It gets easier with time, honest."

He sighed again. "I knew this would not come to a good end. Very well, I'll say it. But I reserve the right to refer you to this conversation on occasions when you wish me to say it again. ~ Katie MacAlister

Leaning back, she studied me, knuckles brushing along my jaw. "You've turned into a man overnight, it seems. Just yesterday, this face was three years old with a samurai turtle Band-Aid on your cheek."
"Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles, Mom. Way more awesome than samurais."
"You're right. Ninjas have masks and nut chucks."
Any other time I would have laughed. "Nunchakus."
"I know, but you definitely did some damage to your nuts that I think you should get checked out before you have children. I meant to tell you years ago. ~ Ashlan Thomas

He reached out and caressed her face. With a serious expression, he traced the edge of her jaw with his thumb. "You're beautiful, Ani. In all of eternity, there's never been another faery who could make me want to forget everything and everyone else."
"Because you like the way I look?" She rolled her eyes. "Apparently, my dream mind is shallow."
"No, not the exterior. You… the tempers and follies and passion… even the way you care for that infuriating steed."Devlin gazed at her like she was precious. "Even knowing you could be fatal, I would've said yes."
Her chest hurt like she had held her breath too long as she asked, "To?"
"Whatever you wanted." He didn't reach out and pull her into his embrace. Instead, he took one step forward, leaned down, and kissed her. ~ Melissa Marr

Most people go through life by the line of least resistance in every circumstance where they can make a choice. They do not recognize that following the lines of least resistance makes all rivers, and some men, crooked! ~ Napoleon Hill

In fact, if they didn't let me commute, I would not have taken the role because I wanted to graduate high school with my classmates. I remember my agent's jaw dropping when I told him if I couldn't commute I didn't want the role. ~ Sarah Chalke

The suggestion that the body really wanted to go straight but some mysterious agent made it go crooked is picturesque but unscientific. It makes two properties out of one; and then we wonder why they are always proportional to one another - why the gravitational force on different bodies is proportional to their inertia or mass. The dissection becomes untenable when we admit that all frames of reference are on the same footing. The projectile which describes a parabola relative to an observer on the earth's surface describes a straight line relative to the man in the lift. Our teacher will not easily persuade the man in the lift who sees the apple remaining where he released it, that the apple really would of its own initiative rush upwards were it not that an invisible tug exactly counteracts this tendency. (The reader will verify that this is the doctrine the teacher would have to inculcate if he went as a missionary to the men in the lift.) ~ Arthur Stanley Eddington

New York City is the most fatally fascinating thing in America. She sits like a great witch at the gate of the country, showing her alluring white face, and hiding her crooked hands and feet under the folds of her wide garments,
constantly enticing thousands from far within, and tempting those who come from across the seas to go no farther. And all these become the victims of her caprice. Some she at once crushes beneath her cruel feet; others she condemns to a fate like that of galley slaves; a few she favors and fondles, riding them high on the bubbles of fortune; then with a sudden breath she blows the bubbles out and laughs mockingly as she watches them fall. ~ James Weldon Johnson

Rivington seemed unperturbed by Jack's loss of temper. He rubbed has hand along his jaw. "In that case, we
could pretend to be cousins by marriage. And then we can both act appalled by the connection." Jack laughed,
feeling his anger dissipate. ~ Cat Sebastian

Where do you plan to live now that you're done with school?" Isabelle asked before Emma even had a chance to swallow. "Isabelle, enough," Ethan said as he rested his hands on Emma's shoulders. Isabelle's eyes flickered between the two of them, a muscle twitched in her cheek as her jaw clenched. "It's not the Spanish Inquisition." "Sorry," Isabelle said to Emma. "Its ok," Emma assured her. "It's just that Ethan doesn't bring many girls around, in fact I've never met a girlfriend of his; we were actually beginning to wonder if he even liked girls." "Isabelle!" Ethan hissed as Stefan choked on his drink and began to laugh loudly. ~ Brenda K. Davies

Who thinks his great achievements poor
Shall find his vigour long endure.
Of greatest fulness, deemed a void,
Exhaustion ne'er shall stem the tide.
Do thou what's straight still crooked deem;
Thy greatest art still stupid seem,
And eloquence a stammering scream. ~ Lao-Tzu

You're not mad?"

His jaw clenches. "I'm furious."

"Oh."

"But we're okay, Sophie. As long as you're safe and I know where you are, we're okay."

I nod.

"I'd like to turn you over my knee and spank the shit out of you, and before you get excited, I don't mean that erotically."

"I'm sorry," I whisper.

"I know," he replies. ~ Jana Aston

There was a minor burst of macho nuttiness after 'Jaws' came out, in which people would go off in shark tournaments and come back holding the bloody heads of these animals and say, 'Look what I did.' But they've been doing that for hundreds of thousands of years anyway. ~ Peter Benchley

If- if I could find a way to free you," I whispered, "would you walk the world above with me?"
My back was to the Goblin King; I could not face him. It was a long time before he answered.
"Oh, Elisabeth," he said. "I would go anywhere with you."
I turned around. His eyes deepened in color and for a moment, just for the merest glimpse, I could see what he would have been like as a mortal man. If he had been allowed to live the course of his life, from the child he had been to the man he would have become. A musician- a violinist. I ran back into the circle of alder trees, wanting the circle of his arms around me. I reached out my hands, and his fingers brushed mine, but we passed through each other like water, like a mirage. We were each nothing but a shimmering illusion, a candle flame we could not hold.
And yet, the Goblin King was still here, in the Goblin Grove, with me. He stood in the Underground while I stood in the world above, but our hearts beat within the same space.
"Don't look back," he said.
I nodded. I love you, I wanted to say. But I knew these words would break me.
"Elisabeth."
The Goblin King was smiling. Not the pointed smile of the Lord of Mischief or Der Erlkönig, but a crooked one. Twisted to one side, lopsided and goofy, it cracked my heart open and I bled inside.
He mouthed a word at me. A name. "You've always had it, Elisabeth," he said softly. "For it is you I gave my soul. ~ S. Jae-Jones

Geez, woman, you're gonna dislocate my jaw."
"Well, don't do that in public, you brute!"
"Wow." Renfield adjusted his glasses. He was sitting across the table from them with a book. "I feel so privileged, being an audience to this-"
"Shut up, Ren," the other two said simultaneously. ~ Lia Habel

I could see the cat was definitely on the steps. Still on the steps, 20 minutes after Carl's call. This was strange; Amy loved the cat. The cat was declawed, the cat was never let outside, never ever, because the cat ... was sweet, but extremely stupid ... Amy knew she'd never see the cat again if he ever got out. The cat would waddle straight into the Mississippi River, "deedlie-dum," and float all the way to the Gulf of Mexico into the maw of a hungry bull shark. But it turned out, the cat wasn't even smart enough to get past the steps. ~ Gillian Flynn

He can hit a man in the liver so the blood flow stops. It takes a full second before the pain registers and the man falls. I've seen Billy hook men's livers and punch at their hearts. I've seen him break a man's nose in the ring, shatter an eardrum, close an eye. I've seen him hit a man so hard, fist to jaw, the man seemed to fall asleep before he fell, his body so relaxed his face looked calm even when his head slammed against canvas. ~ Adam Berlin

She lifted her lantern high, and he allowed her to free him from the shadows, casting his face in warm, golden light. He had aged marvelously, grown into his long limbs and angled face. Penelope had always imagined that he'd become handsome, but he was more than handsome now... he was nearly beautiful.
If not for the darkness that lingered despite the glow of the lantern- something dangerous in the set of his jaw, in the tightness of his brow, in eyes that seemed to have forgotten joy, in lips that seemed to have lost their ability to smile.
He'd had a dimple as a child, one that showed itself often and was almost always the precursor to adventure. She searched his left cheek, looking for that telltale indentation. Did not find it.
Indeed, as much as Penelope searched this new, hard face, she could not seem to find the boy she'd once known. If not for the eyes, she would not have believed it was him at all.
"How sad," she whispered to herself.
He heard it. "What?"
She shook her head, meeting his gaze, the only thing familiar about him. "He's gone."
"Who?"
"My friend."
She hadn't thought it possible, but his features hardened even more, growing more stark, more dangerous, in the shadows. For one fleeting moment, she thought perhaps she had pushed him too far. He remained still, watching her with that dark gaze that seemed to see everything. ~ Sarah MacLean