Dry Lips Quotes

You're not supposed to be here," Lillian told Westcliff when the contraction was over. She clung to his hand as if it were a lifeline. "You're supposed to be downstairs pacing and drinking."
"Good God, woman," Westcliff muttered, blotting her sweaty face with a dry cloth, "I did this to you. I'm hardly going to let you face the consequences alone."
That produced a faint smile on Lillian's dry lips. ~ Lisa Kleypas

Do you remember," he said, "when we first met and I told you I was ninety percent sure putting a rune on you wouldn't kill you - and you slapped me in the face and told me it was for the other ten percent?" Clary nodded.
"I always figured a demon would kill me," he said. "A rogue Downworlder. A battle. But I realized then that I just might die if I didn't get to kiss you, and soon." Clary licked her dry lips. "Well, you did," she said. "Kiss me, I mean."
He reached up and took a curl of her hair between his fingers. He was close enough that she could feel the warmth of his body, smell his soap and skin and hair.
"Not enough," he said, letting her hair slip through his fingers. "If I kiss you all day every day for the rest of my life, it won't be enough. ~ Cassandra Clare

Hunt seemed similarly indifferent to the show, his head inclined toward hers, his gaze
locked on her face. Though his breathing remained soft and disciplined, it seemed to her that its rhythm
had changed ever so slightly.
Annabelle moistened her dry lips. "You ... you mustn't stare at me like that."
Soft as the murmur was, he caught it. "With you here, nothing else is worth looking at. ~ Lisa Kleypas

I went on Accutane, which is very strong. Your sebaceous glands dry up, you can't exercise, and you have very dry lips. But it was a miracle, and it worked. ~ Trinny Woodall

From then on, right up to this day, I fear that I walk funny, in other words, that I walk like a woman. When I find myself walking at my own pace, I almost immediately slow down. And I learned what men do not do. They do not wet their dry lips by running their tongues over them. They don't trot after their mothers into the kitchen. They don't use face powder. They don't sit on a motorbike behind a woman. They don't need mirrors in the rooms where they might change their clothes. On trips, they can go behind a tree. They don't even need an enclosed space to take a dump; they can do it in the open. They shouldn't be afraid of other people seeing their bodies. If there's only one bathroom, they can bathe in the open. When caned in class, they do not cry. They do not buy tamarind from the lady who sells it on the road and they certainly do not sit by her side and eat it. ~ Sachin Kundalkar

She lay quiet, looking at the ceiling. 'I wish the peace to come back,' she said.

'He himself is the peace. He comes if we invite him, and stays, if we ask. It's ourselves who wander away.'

'Why do we wander away?'

'Its the old free-will business - we're charmed by the self, by our own pointless self-seeking.'

'What does he want from us?'

'He wants us to ask him into our lives, to give everything over to him, once and for all.'

'I can't imagine.'

'I couldn't either. I heard it preached and talked about all my life. I exegeted Romans and memorized vast amounts of scripture before I was twelve years old, but somehow it went in one ear and out the other - I got the bone, but not the marrow. Long after becoming a priest, I remained terrified of surrendering anything, much less everything. And then one day I did.'

'Why?'

'Because I could no longer bear the separation from him.'

She licked her dry lips. 'You said there would be nothing to lose.'

'And everything to gain.'

'I don't wish to be humiliated.'

'By God?' He took the lid from the balm and moistened the swab.

'By anyone, and especially God.'

'God does not humiliate the righteous. He may fire us in the kiln to make us vessels, crush us like grapes so we become wine - but he never humiliates. That is the game of little people.'

'I have always depended on ~ Jan Karon

Don't forget to
raise your voice
when their words
hurt your soul.

Don't forget to shove,
when they try to hush you.

If every time you look
at yourself, and
all that you can see is
the ruined mascara,
dry lips and burning eyes
Girl,
that's the proof for you
to pack your bags and leave.

If they bury you
with the roses and
burn you alive
with their words
Girl,
that's the proof for you
to pack your bags and leave.

Don't forget to
raise your voice
when their words
hurt your soul.

Don't forget to shove,
when they try to hush you. ~ Jyoti Patel

His grip on her wrists loosened, and his thumbs dipped gently into the humid cups of her palms. "Shall I come to you tonight?" he whispered.
Lottie had to lick her dry lips before she could answer. "Are you posing a question to me or yourself?"
A smile flickered in his eyes. "You, of course. I already know what I want."
-Nick & Lottie ~ Lisa Kleypas

In a nervous and slender-leaved mimosa grove at the back of their villa we found a perch on the ruins of a low stone wall. She trembled and twitched as I kissed the corner of her parted lips and the hot lobe of her ear. A cluster of stars palely glowed above us between the silhouettes of long thin leaves; that vibrant sky seemed as naked as she was under her light frock. I saw her face in the sky, strangely distinct, as if it emitted a faint radiance of its own. Her legs, her lovely live legs, were not too close together, and when my hand located what it sought, a dreamy and eerie expression, half-pleasure, half-pain, came over those childish features. She sat a little higher than I, and whenever in her solitary ecstasy she was led to kiss me, her head would bend with a sleepy, soft, drooping movement that was almost woeful, and her bare knees caught and compressed my wrist, and slackened again; and her quivering mouth, distorted by the acridity of some mysterious potion, with a sibilant intake of breath came near to my face. She would try to relieve the pain of love by first roughly rubbing her dry lips against mine; then my darling would draw away with a nervous toss of her hair, and then again come darkly near and let me feed on her open mouth, while with a generosity that was ready to offer her everything, my heart, my throat, my entrails, I gave her to hold in her awkward fist the scepter of my passion. ~ Vladimir Nabokov

He couldn't look away from the pale curve of Jamie's spine. From the two dimples just above the swell of Jamie's ass. From the tiny pink hole between Jamie's pale, lush cheeks. He felt like a bloody pervert every time he looked at the picture. This time was no exception, but he wasn't looking away. He never could. He licked his dry lips, looking at Jamie's hole. ~ Alessandra Hazard

When I found you, I didn't know what I was finding," Alec said. "Words about things that are beautiful and precious to me don't come easily. You know that. You know me better than anyone." He licked his dry lips. "And when one day people look back on me and what my life meant, I don't want them to say, 'Alec Lightwood fought in the Dark War' or even 'Alec Lightwood was Consul once.' I want them to think, 'Alec Lightwood loved one man so much he changed the world for him.' "
Magnus's eyes shone bright as stars. He gazed at Alec with eyes full of joy, of a feeling so profound Alec felt humbled to be a part of it. "You know you've already changed the world for me."
"Will you marry me?" Alec whispered. His heart was beating like a frantic bird's wings. "Right now? Tonight?"
Magnus nodded wordlessly and pulled Alec to his feet. They wrapped their arms around each other, and Alec leaned up just that little bit, since Magnus was just that little bit taller, which he had always loved.
And they kissed for a long time. ~ Cassandra Clare

Is this seat taken?"
The deep, gravelly voice jolted Noelle from her blood-thirsty thoughts. When she laid eyes on the man it belonged to her breath caught in her throat.
She blinked, wondering if maybe she'd dreamed him, but then he flashed her a captivating grin and she realized that he must be real - her mind wasn't capable of conjuring up a smile this heart-stoppingly gorgeous.
A pair of vivid blue eyes watched her expectantly as she searched for her voice.
"There are lots of other seats available," she finally replied, gesturing to the deserted tables all around them.
He shrugged. "I don't want to sit anywhere but here."
She moistened her suddenly dry lips. "Why?"
"Because none of those other seats are across from you," he said simply. ~ Elle Kennedy

..... he had ridden right through the gates of the palace. Of course, people rode through
the gates of the palace every day, but most of them needed the things to be opened first.
The guards on the other side were rigid with fear, because they thought they had seen a ghost.
They would have been far more frightened if they had known that a ghost was almost exactly
what they hadn't seen.
The guard outside the doors of the great hall had seen it happen too, but he had time to gather his
wits, or such that remained, and raise his spear as Binky trotted across the courtyard.
'Halt,' he croaked. 'Halt. What goes where?'
Mort saw him for the first time.
'What?' he said, still lost in thought.
The guard ran his tongue over his dry lips, and backed away. Mort slid off Binky's back and
walked forward.
'I meant, what goes there?' the guard tried again, with a mixture of doggedness and suicidal
stupidity that marked him for early promotion.
Mort caught the spear gently and lifted it out of the way of the door. As he did so the torchlight
illuminated his face.
'Mort,' he said softly.
It should have been enough for any normal soldier, but this guard was officer material.
'I mean, friend or foe?' he stuttered, trying to avoid Mort's gaze.
'Which would you prefer?' he grinned. It wasn't quite the grin of his master, but it was a pretty
effective grin and didn't have a trace of humour in it.
Terry Pratchett

17. Butterfly
A butterfly fluttered its wings in a wind thick with the smell of seaweed. His dry lips felt the touch of the butterfly for the briefest instant, yet the wisp of wing dust still shone on his lips years later. ~ Ryunosuke Akutagawa

Adam wet his dry lips and tried to ask and failed and tried again. "Why do they have to do it?" he said. "Why is it?"

Cyrus was deeply moved and he spoke as he had never spoken before. "I don't know," he said. "I've studied and maybe learned how things are, but I"m not even close to why they are. And you must not expect to find that people understand what they do. So many things are done instinctively, the way a bee makes honey or a fox dips his paws into a stream to fool dogs. A fox can't say why he does it, and what bee remembers winter or expects it to come again? When I knew you had to go I thought to leave the future open so you could dig out your own findings, and then it seemed better if I could protect you with the little I know. You'll go in soon now--you've come to the age."

"I don't want to," said Adam quickly.

"You'll go in soon," his father went on, not hearing. "And I want to tell you so you won't be surprised. They'll first strip off your clothes, but they'll go deeper than that. They'll shuck off any little dignity you have--you'll lose what you think of as your decent right to live and be let alone to live. They'll make you live and eat and sleep and shit close to other men. And when they dress you up again you'll not be able to tell yourself from the others. You can't even wear a scrap or pin a note on your breast to say, 'This is me--separate from the rest.'"

"I don't want to do it," said Adam.

"After a ~ John Steinbeck

She would try to relieve the pain of love by first roughly rubbing her dry lips against mine; then my darling would draw away with a nervous toss of her hair, and then again come darkly near and let me feed on her open mouth, while with a generosity that was ready to offer her everything, my heart, my throat, my entrails, I gave her to hold in her awkward first the scepter of my passion. ~ Vladimir Nabokov

Some day,' said Smee, 'the clock will run down, and then he'll get you.'
Hook wetted his dry lips, 'Aye,' he said, 'that's the fear that haunts me. ~ J.M. Barrie

Coming up behind her, Westcliff settled his hands at her waist, easily dodging her attempts to throw him off. He pulled her hips back firmly against his and spoke against her ear. "Are you angry because I started making love to you, or because I didn't finish?"
Lillian licked her dry lips. "I'm angry, you bloody big hypocrite, because you can't make up your mind about what to do with me." She punctuated the comment with the hard jab of one elbow back against his ribs."

~ Marcus and Lillian ~ Lisa Kleypas

Panting softly, I licked my dry lips. He groaned, tilted his head, and sealed his mouth over mine. I was shocked by how soft his firm lips were and the gentleness of the pressure he exerted. I sighed and his tongue dipped inside, tasting me in long, leisurely licks. His kiss was confident, skilled, and just the right side of aggressive to turn me on wildly. ~ Sylvia Day

I licked my dry lips, glancing around at everyone staring at us. Finally I looked up into Cole's handsome face. "I'm here because I love you, and I need to ask you something." I took a deep breath. It was time to go big.

I lowered myself to one knee.

Cole's eyes grew round and I heard a few female gasps behind him. "Shannon, what - "

"Cole Walker, I once told you in fear that you were nothing, but there has never been a day of your life that that was true and there has never been a day I've ever really thought that. You've been extraordinary to me since we were fifteen." I smiled shakily, feeling vulnerable and frightened but hopeful too as he stared down at me with growing tenderness in his expression. "Apart from Logan I've never had a real family. The kind you can count on through everything. The kind that gives you second, third, fourth chances because the other option is no option at all. Because they love you and they're there for you. Unconditionally. Logan was the only one who ever gave me that. Until you. You're my family, Cole. I want you to be my family forever." I laughed hoarsely. "I don't have a ring or anything. I just have me. And I know I'm not perfect and I know you deserve perfect . . . but I love you more than anyone else in this world and I promise you I'll never let you forget that again." My heart slowed its rapid beating as a sense of calm came over me. A sense of rightness. It was as if I'd found the balance I'd been m ~ Samantha Young

He moved to the faded red chair she'd indicated. As he lowered himself into it, there was a loud crack. One of the wooden legs snapped and broke, just as Sophia and Angus had planned when they'd sawed it half-through.
A normal man would have been tossed to the floor, but with a little twist, MacLean shifted his weight forward and managed to remain upright, turning to regard the chair as it collapsed.
Sophia swept to her feet. "Goodness! How horrid!" She narrowed her gaze accusingly at the chair. There was nothing like a little humiliation to set a man against a location, and it was a pity MacLean hadn't been thrown to the floor as she'd planned.
MacLean bent and picked up a piece of the broken chair, his expression unfathomable. "Horrid, indead."
Her desire to smile fled. Did he suspect something? Could he see where Angus had cut the chair let partway through?
MacLean hefted the leg in his hand, his mouth thinned.
Sophia cleared her throat. "I'll call the butler to remove that."
His gaze locked with hers.The chair leg still in his hand,he walked toward her.
Sophia licked her suddenly dry lips. She didn't know this man, not really. What was he going to do?
She gripped the arms of her chair. Should she run for help? Surely not. Nothing she'd heard had indicated MacLean was a man of violence. Of course, everything she knew of him was mere heresay-
He stopped before her and stook looking down into her face with the faintest of smi ~ Karen Hawkins

Red lips are not so red as the stained stones kissed by the English dead. ~ Wilfred Owen

The practices that once fed my soul feed it no more. John of the Cross, writing from his prison cell, says in the dark night the soul is pained but not hopeless. God's love is not content to leave us in our weakness, and for this reason he takes us into a dark night. He weans us from all of the pleasures by giving us dry times and inward darkness ... No soul will ever grow deep in the spiritual life unless God works passively in that soul by means of the dark night. ~ John Ortberg

Gabriel came out a moment later, while Kaitlyn was still standing motionless by the stairs. He was shrugging into his T-shirt. He looked particularly handsome in a just-roused, early morning way. His hair was very wavy, as if someone had run fingers through it to release the curl, his eyes were hooded and lazy and there was a faint smile of satisfaction on his lips.
Kaitlyn discovered that she wanted to kill him. The image that came to her mind was of hitting him with a rolling pin, but not in an amusing, comic-book sort of way. ~ L.J.Smith

We all wear masks
to veil the truth.
Truth is nakedness.
Truth is fear.
Truth is the gardener
making you sit on
his lap
asking you to
light his cigarette.
Truth is father -
with a limp cigarette on his lips
- telling you to never
use his matches
to light it for him.
Truth is father
yelling:
"It is not
nice for little girls
to do so".
Truth is a curious girl
wanting to
ignite a match
like a woman.
Truth is the maid watching
from the kitchen,
knowing.
But knowing isn't truth.
Truth is the maid calling:
Come. Come.
Truth is the gardener understanding.
But understanding isn't truth.
Truth is the maid saying,
"Stay away!"
Truth is a girl thinking
she is in control.
That nothing happened,
nothing bad.
But the truest truth
is a girl knowing,
a girl understanding that
on that day
someone stole
a little piece of her
truth. ~ Kamand Kojouri

To dry the damp hem, and the firelight glowed from both my rings. A strong disposition to ~ Diana Gabaldon

He'd almost died and seeing the proof of his knife wounds, hearing him describe the incident that had almost taken his life, rattled her so much.
With him still holding her wrist, she bent awkwardly and pressed her lips against the worst of his scars. ~ Virna DePaul

My roommate has a gerbil," Ryan said, grinning. "The little guy got loose and crapped all over my bed. It's just been a crazy day."
Nodding at his silly story, I heard a familiar voice. "That's fucking fascinating," Judd said from behind me. "Then, what happened?"
Judd was stalking me apparently.
He pulled a chair to the table. "What are we having for dinner?"
"Who are you exactly?" Ryan asked.
"Tawny's man. I don't do names or handshakes, so save it, kid."
When Ryan looked at me for help, I shook my head. "I have no control over him. If I did, he wouldn't be here."
"Oh, don't be like that," Judd said, caressing the back of my hair. "I like that sweater on you. Very autumn. Looks good with your eyes."
"Please, go away."
"I can't. I'm your ride tonight."
"Should I leave?" Ryan asked.
Judd glanced at my date. "Just catch onto that, did you?"
Ryan stood up. "See you around, Tawny."
"Can't you stay and ignore him?"
Judd's eyes narrowed. "No, he can't."
"We can still talk," I said, praying Ryan would stay. "He might leave if we treat him like static in the background."
Ryan considered staying until Judd's amused expression faded. "She's not fucking you, if that's what you're holding out for. In fact, you ain't even getting a goodnight kiss. Well, unless you want that to be the last thing your lips ever do before I rip them off your face."
"I'm going to leave," Ryan said, giving me ~ Bijou Hunter

Remi's lips parted as he panted. His eyes darkened. "Yes. I want you."
"Then what else is there? Mate me."
"Oh goddess. Yes!" Remi shuddered. "I… I'm going to bite you and take your blood. Then I'm going to make love to you - going to claim you. Take what's mine. Then… then you're going to do the same… exact… thing to me."
Holy. Fuck. Emotions flooded me, but I couldn't seem to grasp any one thing. Desire, anxiety, confusion, need. They were all there. I wanted him. I wanted him desperately, but all this talk about making love… I had never made love.
Oh, I fucked. A lot, actually. I couldn't count the men and women who'd been in my bed. None of them I made love to, though. I damn sure hadn't given my ass to any one of them either. Remi would be my first. "Can't wait. Remi, I've never…."
"I know. You've never… and my first experience was less than pleasant. What a pair we make." Remi kissed my cockhead. "But I will do everything I can to make sure you like it."
My partners always came - I made sure of it and prided myself on my skills. I often took over and, well… controlled the whole thing. But for once I was going to lie back and let someone else do the work. No, not someone else. Remi. I was giving him control. Remi explored as much as he wanted, and I didn't try to take over. He purred softly as he nosed my cock. I clenched the bedding. Oh God, please just….
He licked the tip, and my eyes rolled. I liked getting my cock sucked as well as ~ M.A. Church

A moment on the lips is a lifetime on the hips. ~ Khloe Kardashian

She thumped her weapon (others might call it a cane, but he
knew better) against the floor. "Fell off your horse?"
"No, I - "
"Tripped down the stairs? Dropped a bottle on your foot?" Her
expression grew sly. "Or does it involve a woman?"
He fought the urge to cross his arms. She was looking up at him
with a bit of a smirk. She liked poking fun at her companions; she'd
once told him that the best part of growing old was that she could
say anything she wanted with impunity.
He leaned down and said with great gravity, "Actually, I was
stabbed by my valet."
It was, perhaps, the only time in his life he'd managed to stun
her into silence.
Her mouth fell open, her eyes grew wide, and he would have
liked to have thought that she even went pale, but her skin had such
an odd tone to begin with that it was hard to say. Then, after a
moment of shock, she let out a bark of laughter and said, "No,
really. What happened?"
"Exactly as I said. I was stabbed." He waited a moment, then
added, "If we weren't in the middle of a ballroom, I'd show you."
"You don't say?" Now she was really interested. She leaned in,
eyes alight with macabre curiosity. "Is it gruesome?"
"It was," he confirmed.
She pressed her lips together, and her eyes narrowed as she
asked, "And where is your valet now?"
"At Chatteris House, likely nicking a glass of my best brandy."
She let out anoth ~ Julia Quinn

Perhaps a maiden's bashfulness is more A matron's lesson than our lips aver. ~ Alfred Austin

He who has a living faith in God will not do evil deeds with name of God on his lips. ~ Mahatma Gandhi

When the pupil is ready to receive the truth, then will this little book come to him, or her. Such is The Law. ...The Law of Attraction, will bring lips and ear together - pupil and book in company. So mote it be! ~ Three Initiates

We call it a grain of sand,
but it calls itself neither grain nor sand.
It does just fine, without a name,
whether general, particular,
permanent, passing,
incorrect, or apt.

Our glance, our touch means nothing to it.
It doesn't feel itself seen and touched.
And that it fell on the windowsill
is only our experience, not its.
For it, it is not different from falling on anything else
with no assurance that it has finished falling
or that it is falling still.

The window has a wonderful view of a lake,
but the view doesn't view itself.
It exists in this world
colorless, shapeless,
soundless, odorless, and painless.

The lake's floor exists floorlessly,
and its shore exists shorelessly.
The water feels itself neither wet nor dry
and its waves to themselves are neither singular nor plural.
They splash deaf to their own noise
on pebbles neither large nor small.

And all this beheath a sky by nature skyless
in which the sun sets without setting at all
and hides without hiding behind an unminding cloud.
The wind ruffles it, its only reason being
that it blows.

A second passes.
A second second.
A third.
But they're three seconds only for us.

Time has passed like courier with urgent news.
But that's just our simile.
The character is inverted, his hasts is make believe,
his new ~ Wisława Szymborska

She was not undamaged, however, and she knew it. No food or drink had passed her lips, but she had drunk deep of the Truth, and now it could not be flushed out of her system with bitter cordials, or washed from her skin, or picked out of her hair. ~ Frances Hardinge

I've been dying to know," he said again, "how you taste."
Oh, hell. Her right hand grabbed the back of his head, and she yanked him down toward her.
Their mouths met. Open. Ready. Lips kissed. Tongues licked. And - damn!
Yes, she wanted.
The control she'd held so tightly began to crack. She jerked in her seat, struggling to press against him. He took her mouth. Tasted her. Tormented her. And she met him. No, she fought him, fought him for more. ~ Cynthia Eden

When a human's tears finally dry up forever, they transform into a monster. ~ Kohta Hirano

I'm not selfless. I've led a criminal, selfish life. Not sure I've ever cared about anyone." She watched him put his cigarette to his lips. It looked damp and forlorn, the way she felt, suddenly. "So it came as quite a shock to me to realize that when you love someone, it comes above all other things. All the other little pieces of your life. You just want them to be happy." - Kieran ~ Charlotte Stein

Windy or not, a day this beautiful has to be lived. The day is bright and clear, the sky blue, and the dry air feels light. A northerly wind stirs a primal urge to move. The geese feel it, and so do I. Perhaps it is a last internal vestige from a time, long ago, when we migrated with the seasons across open plains, following the animals we pursued for food. Perhaps that is why the sight of migrating geese arrests our attention, why we feel the pull. We want to go, to travel in fresh or moody weather, taking in each newly revealed vista. ~ Carl Safina

On hashish, he saw the elaborate furnishings of the nineteenth-century bourgeois interior concentrating to satanic contentment, satanic knowing, satanic calm ... To live in these interiors was to have woven a dense fabric about oneself, to have secluded oneself within a spider's web, in whose toils world events hang loosely suspended like so many insect bodies sucked dry. ~ Daniel Pinchbeck

Look under the passenger seat in a black plastic bin. There should be a book."
Raphael hopped out, dug under the seat, and pulled out a dog-eared copy of The Almanac of Mystical Creatures.
"Got it," I said into the phone.
"Page seventy-six."
Raphael flipped the book open and held it up. On the left page a lithograph showed a three-headed dog with a serpent for a tail. The caption under the picture said CERBERUS.
"Is that your dog?" Kate asked.
"Could be. How the heck did you know the exact page?"
"I have perfect memory!"
I snorted.
She sighed into the phone.
"I spilled coffee on that page and had to leave the book open to dry it out. It always opens to that entry now. ~ Ilona Andrews

So amazingly, agonizingly sexy that it's a wonder I can get anything done when all I ever think about is the taste of your lips and the touch of your fingertips on my skin and the way your legs feel when I - ~ Richelle Mead

When?' said the moon to the stars in the sky
Soon' said the wind that followed them all
Who?' said the cloud that started to cry
Me' said the rider as dry as a bone
How?' said the sun that melted the ground
and 'Why?' said the river that refused to run
and 'Where?' said the thunder without a sound
Here' said the rider and took up his gun
No' said the stars to the moon in the sky
No' said the trees that started to moan
No' said the dust that blunted its eyes
Yes' said the rider as white as a bone
No' said the moon that rose from his sleep
No' said the cry of the dying sun
No' said the planet as it started to weep
Yes' said the rider and laid down his gun ~ Nick Cave

I put my finger to my lips to shush Jack. He put a finger to his lips, too, but used the middle one instead of the pointer. ~ Kiersten White

It is said, and it is true, that just before we are born, a cavern angel puts his finger to our lips and says, "Hush, don't tell what you know." This is why we are born with a cleft on our upper lips and remembering nothing of where we came from". ~ Roderick MacLeish

Dreams like a podcast,
Downloading truth in my ears.
They tell me cool stuff."
"Apollo?" I guess, because I figured nobody else could make a haiku that bad.
He put his finger to his lips. "I'm incognito. Call me Fred."
"A god named Fred? ~ Rick Riordan

Do these past days mean nothing?" he asked, so gently that my weak self curled around his words.
But I would no longer be weak. I tapped into that power in my veins and a shimmering wall of flames sprang up between us. Amar jumped back, shocked and then…amused.
"A little ruthlessness is to be admired, but it's cruel to play with a powerless heart."
"Crueler still to promise equality and hide a person's true self."
"I thought it was best for you," he repeated.
"Strange how something that only affected me was decided by you."
Amar's smile turned cold. "My promises were true. You seek to punish an illusion without fully knowing. What were your kisses, then? Vengeance?"
The wall of flames shimmered away. Anger still flared inside me, but now it was mixed with something else. Something I couldn't push away, despite fury. Want.
"They were nothing," I lied. "They meant nothing."
I didn't look at him. And then, a bloom of cold erupted beside me and Amar was at my side. His fingers traced a secret calligraphy along my arms.
"Nothing at all?"
My heart twisted. I reached forward, my hands tangling in his hair as I kissed him. It was a kiss meant to devour, to summon war. And when I broke it, my voice was harsh:
"My kisses mean nothing."
"Cruel queen," he murmured, tilting my head back. His lips skimmed down my neck. Amar's hands gripped my waist, before tracing the outline of my hips. Heat flared through my body. But just ~ Roshani Chokshi

We cannot see Beauty till we let go our hold of it. It was Buddha who conquered the world, not Alexander - this is untrue when stated in dry prose - oh when shall we be able to sing it? When shall all these most intimate truths of the universe overflow the pages of printed books and leap out in a sacred stream like the Ganges from the Gangotrie? ~ Rabindranath Tagore

I like how you are with me. You're not careful with me. You see more of me than anybody else."
I pressed my body against his, arching up on my toes and leaning toward his lips. His breath hitched, and I slipped my hands inside his jacket again and gripped his waist.
"Don't be careful with me, Tyler," I whispered, catching his bottom lip, sucking it quickly and then letting it go. "Please," I pleaded.
And he groaned, closing his eyes and diving in. ~ Penelope Douglas

I had never seen her smile before. At least, not beyond the cursory upturn at the edges of her lips as we passed each other in the hallway. But now, her smile transformed her, as if she'd grown taller, or changed her hair color, or something. Her cheeks popped with dimples, her lips seemed redder and softer against the backdrop of her white teeth. Damn. She was cute. ~ Allen Eskens

Beg me, Is." Reggie circled the wrinkled entrance, teasing even though his limbs felt heavy and his vision was getting all kinds of blurry. "Ask for it and I might throw you some scraps like what you threw me when I had to listen to your eyes and your touch, because your lips could never speak the fucking truth. ~ Avril Ashton

Tamlin thought about what he'd heard during his rescue and said, "And in addition to his talent of imitating father's voice, Talbot has become some sort of monster." "Well," she(Tazi)said. "In a manner of speaking, yes"
"And you just returned from training as a master assassin?"
"That is not how I'd describe myself."
"Cat burglar, then. Just like mother."
Well, yes. If you must be rude about it."
"And even the chambermaid has divine powers?"
"That's right" Tazi said. "That, and she's actually our sister"
"Our sister..." "It appears that everyone I know has become some sort of storybook hero--" he sighed-- "And all I can boast is 'most often kidnapped.'"
"Now would be a bad time to tell you about Larajin's twin brother?" Tazi asked. She raised a solemn eyebrow, but the quirk upon her lips was all mischief
"Now you're making things up"
She kept smiling, but shook her head.
"Next you'll tell me he's an elf"
Tamlin strove not to take offense at her wild laughter, even though it continued long after they had turned off the streets of Selgaunt and rumbled through the gate to Stormweather Towers. ~ Dave Gross

And our lips. There isn't enough skin, enough spit, enough time, for the lost years that our lips are trying to make up for as they find each other. We kiss. The electric current switches to high. The lights throughout all of Brooklyn must be surging. ~ Gayle Forman

What I wanted to talk to you about was - "
He kissed me. At first he gently touched his lips to mine. e more exciting development was that in order to do this, he'd stepped very close. His chest was an inch
from mine. I could feel his heat. He tasted of blackberries. He leaned even closer and braced his muscular arms on the tree on either side of me.
When he broke the kiss to take a breath, I whispered, "Tree hugger."
He opened his eyes, blue as the afternoon sky, and gave me this look. A combination of amusement and exasperation and hunger. He looked like a teenager making out
in the woods. Puzzling through this, I realized that I was gazing at him from the perspective of a six-year-old girl playing army and dodging rubber snakes.
But he was this teenager, and so was I. I felt the same need for him that he felt for me, like a force was drawing me forward into his heat. I just didn't know how to say
it. ~ Jennifer Echols

Aside from my little girl, life had never gifted me anything so beautiful. I knew every inch of her golden skin, had drowned in the icy-blue pools of her eyes, and basked in her warmth. I'd pulled every sweet sip from her lips. We'd become magnetic and inseparable and I let it happen in my selfish haze knowing it would rip us to shreds to lose it.
She was my golden shore after the shipwreck that was my life and she'd loved me with her whole heart, only to let me break it. ~ Kate Stewart

She raised an eyebrow. "You got something to say to me, Seaweed Brain?"

"You'd probably kick my butt."

"You know I'd kick your butt."

I brushed the cake off my hands. "When I was at the River Styx, turning invulnerable . . . Nico said I had to concentrate on one thing that kept me anchored to the world, that made me want to stay mortal."

Annabeth kept her eyes on the horizon. "Yeah?"

"Then up on Olympus," I said, "when they wanted to make me a god and stuff, I kept thinking-"

"Oh, you so wanted to."

"Well, maybe a little. But I didn't, because I thought-I didn't want things to stay the same for eternity, because things could always get better. And I was thinking . . ." My throat felt really dry.

"Anyone in particular?" Annabeth asked, her voice soft.

I looked over and saw that she was trying not to smile.

"You're laughing at me," I complained.

"I am not!"

"You are so not making this easy."

Then she laughed for real, and she put her hands
around my neck. "I am never, ever going to make things easy for you, Seaweed Brain. Get used to it."

When she kissed me, I had the feeling my brain was melting right through my body.
― Rick Riordan, The Last Olympian ~ Rick Riordan

So many details came into focus. The shape of his lips, the line of his neck. "I'm not dangerous," I breathed.
He brought his face toward mine. "You are to me."
And somehow, against all reason, we were kissing. I closed my eyes, and the world around me faded. ~ Richelle Mead