Finger Licking Quotes

Leftovers are less tasty if they were left over by someone else, unless you are poor. ~ Mokokoma Mokhonoana

You don't need to touch me in order to hurt me. You break my heart without lifting a finger, and that's why tonight happened. ~ Anonymous

I'm not an elected official who puts a finger in the wind to see what the majority thinks; I represent women, whether they're popular or not. ~ Gloria Allred

Potter,' she said in ringing tones, 'I will assist you to become an Auror if it is the last thing I do! If I have to coach you nightly, I will make sure you achieve the required results!'
'The Minister for Magic will never employ Harry Potter!' said Umbridge, her voice rising furiously.
'There may well be a new Minister for Magic by the time Potter is ready to join!' shouted Professor McGonagall.
'Aha!' shrieked Professor Umbridge, pointing a stubby finger at McGonagall. 'Yes! Yes, yes, yes! Of course! That's what you want, isn't it, Minerva McGonagall? You want Cornelius Fudge replace by Albus Dumbledore! You think you'll be where I am, don't you: Senior Undersecretary to the Minister and Headmistress to boot!'
'You are raving,' said Professor McGonagall, superbly disdainful. ~ J.K. Rowling

I touched Loki's chest, running my fingers over the bumps of his scar. I didn't know why exactly, but I felt compelled to, as if the scar connected us somehow.
"You just couldn't wait to get me naked, could you, Princess?" Loki asked tiredly. I started to pull my hand back, but he put his own hand over it, keeping it in pace.
"No,I-I was checking for wounds," I stumbled. I wouldn't meet his gaze.
"I'm sure." He moved his thumb, almost caressing my hand, until it hit my ring. "What's that?" He tried to sit up to see it, so I lifted my hand, showing him the emerald-encrusted oval on my finger. "Is that a wedding ring?"
"No, engagement." I lowered my hand, resting it on the bed next to him. "I'm not married yet."
"I'm not too late, then." He smiled and settled back in the bed.
"Too late for what?" I asked.
"To stop you, of course." Still smiling, he closed his eyes.
"Is that why you're here?" I asked, failing to point out how near we were to my nuptials.
"I told you why I'm here," Loki said.
"What happened to you, Loki?" I asked, my voice growing thick when I thought about what he had to have gone through to get all those marks and bruises.
"Are you crying?" Loki asked and opened his eyes.
"No, I'm not crying." I wasn't, but my eyes were moist.
"Don't cry." He tried to sit up, but he winced when he lifted his head, so I put my hand gently on his chest to keep him down.
"You need to rest," I said.
"I will ~ Amanda Hocking

Wait. Is this book about aliens?"
She snatched it back from me. "Yes."
"Really?"
"But they're hot aliens." She tapped on the guy's face with one thin finger. "And he can be my ET any day. ~ Jennifer L. Armentrout

Between the innocence of boyhood and the dignity of manhood, we find a delightful creature called a boy ... A boy is truth with dirt on its face, beauty with a cut on its finger, wisdom with bubble gum in its hair and the hope of the future with a frog in its pocket. ~ Alan Beck

I'm tired of these sophistries. I'm tired of these right-wing fuckers. They wouldn't lift a finger themselves. They work contentedly in offices and banks. Yet now they sit pontificating in parliament, in papers, impugning our motives, questioning our judgements. And why? Because they themselves need to feel better by putting down everyone whose work is so much harder than theirs. You only have to say the words 'social worker'…'probation officer' … 'counsellor' … for everyone in this country to sneer. Do you know what social workers do? Every day? They try and clear out society's drains. They clear out the rubbish. They do what no one else is doing, what no one else is willing to do. And for that, oh Christ, do we thank them? No, we take our own rotten consciences, wipe them all over the social worker's face, and say 'if…' FUCK! 'if I did the job, then of course if I did it…oh no, excuse me, I wouldn't do it like that…' Well I say: 'OK, then, fucking do it, journalist. Politician, talk to the addicts. Hold families together. Stop the kids from stealing in the streets. Deal with couples who beat each other up. You fucking try it, why not? Since you're so full of advice. Sure, come and join us. This work is one big casino. By all means. Anyone can play. But there's only one rule. You can't play for nothing. You have to buy some chips to sit at the table. And if you won't pay with your own time…with your own effort…then I'm sorry. Fuck
off! ~ David Hare

When I ask God to change my actions, that honesty about my own inconsistent behaviors forces me not to be so hard on other believers. Humble acknowledgment of the plank in my own eye gives me more patience with the specks in everyone else's (see Matthew 7:1-5). Instead of pointing the finger at others, let's allow God to examine us. ~ Craig Groeschel

(Rico) "What's it going to take to get you to dance with me?"
She crooked her index finger and motioned him to come close. "A million in your bank account and seven inches in your pants."
Without missing a beat he replied, "The million I have, but even for a woman as beautiful as you, I won't cut off three inches."
Olivia's eyes went wide and she burst out laughing. ~ Rita Henuber

It's an individual sport (golf), so it's the exact opposite of baseball. If you hit a bad shot, you can't say, 'Well, this happened.' It's just you. It's your shot. You can't point the finger at anybody but yourself. ~ Albert Belle

You act different around Kavinsky. Did you know that?"
I look up from sweeping the broken ornament. "No I don't."
"You don't act like you. You act like…like how all girls act around him. That's not you, Lara Jean."
Annoyed, I say, "I act the same as I always do. What would you know about it, Josh? You've barely ever even been around us." I crouch down and pick up a shard of glass.
"Be careful," Josh says. "Here, I'll do it." He stoops down next to me and reaches for another shard. "Ow!"
"You be careful!" I lean close to him and try to get a closer look at his finger. "Are you bleeding?"
He shakes his head. "I'm fine." And then he says, "You know what I don't get?"
"What?"
Josh stares at me, his cheeks a dull red. "Why you never said anything. If all that time you felt like that about me, why didn't you say anything?"
My whole body goes stiff. I wasn't expecting that. I'm not prepared. I swallow hard and say, "You were with Margot."
"I wasn't always with Margot. The stuff you wrote--you liked me before I ever liked her. Why didn't you just tell me?"
I let out a breath. "What does that even matter now?"
"It matters. You should have told me. You should have at least given me a chance. ~ Jenny Han

I'll never forget my first time with you' Min said as she edged the doughnut off her finger. 'The earth moved, and then my mother asked my father who he was going down on at lunch. ~ Jennifer Crusie

I was on a mission. I had to learn to comfort myself, to see what others saw in me and believe it. I needed to discover what the hell made me happy other than being in love. Mission impossible.

When did figuring out what makes you happy become work? How had I let myself get to this point, where I had to learn me..? It was embarrassing. In my college psychology class, I had studied theories of adult development and learned that our twenties are for experimenting, exploring different jobs, and discovering what fulfills us. My professor warned against graduate school, asserting, "You're not fully formed yet. You don't know if it's what you really want to do with your life because you haven't tried enough things." Oh, no, not me.." And if you rush into something you're unsure about, you might awake midlife with a crisis on your hands," he had lectured it. Hi. Try waking up a whole lot sooner with a pre-thirty predicament worm dangling from your early bird mouth.

"Well to begin," Phone Therapist responded, "you have to learn to take care of yourself. To nurture and comfort that little girl inside you, to realize you are quite capable of relying on yourself. I want you to try to remember what brought you comfort when you were younger."

Bowls of cereal after school, coated in a pool of orange-blossom honey. Dragging my finger along the edge of a plate of mashed potatoes. I knew I should have thought "tea" or "bath," but I didn't. Did she want me t ~ Stephanie Klein

No one else noticed, or cared. It was just something they did. Taking other people's livestock. Other people's lives. She watched the soldiers, hating them. They were different in so many ways, white and black, yellow and brown, skinny, short, tall, small, but they were all the same. Didn't matter if they wore finger-bone necklaces, or baby teeth on bracelets, or tattoos on their chests to ward off bullets. In the end, they were all mangled with battle scars and their eyes were all dead. ~ Paolo Bacigalupi

I will not be forgotten
This is my time to shine
I've got the scars to prove it
Only the strong survive
I'm not afraid of dying
Everyone has their time
Life never favored weakness
Welcome to the pride ~ Five Finger Death Punch

The screams echoing through Janet's class were hard to bear. She was attempting a lecture on the Treaty of Paris while Mrs. Pachenko walked between the rows of desks insisting upon calm, raising a finger to her lips and whispering to individual students to please sit all the way down in their desks. In the back of the of the room, several kids were cheering as one of them, a young man whose shirt bore a flaming skull, stood hunched atop his desk like a motocross biker, sliding it forward in small hops. Students appear enthusiastic and are communicating well together, I wrote on the evaluation form. ~ Alissa Nutting

Hey," Nick grunted. "Marriage is just a word for some people, but for others it's a fucking sentence, okay?"
Zane was holding his side. "Oh my God, marriage puns! Oh my God ... "
Nick was trying not to grin, but he finally couldn't help himself. "Once we established I was the victim, then we had to find a girl with a ring on her finger to figure out which one I'd fucking married."
Ty leaned against Zane's arm, laughing so hard he could no longer sit up straight. "The look on his face!"
"He made a marriage pun," Zane gasped. ~ Abigail Roux

Gin's the toughest gal I know. Takes a licking and keeps on ticking, just like a Timex. Isn't that right, Gin? ~ Jennifer Estep

People always say, 'Who is your audience?' and I could never put a finger on it - and I wouldn't want to put a finger on it. ~ Cassandra Peterson

A finger points at the moon, but the moon is not at the tip of the finger. Words points at the truth, but the truth is not in words. ~ Huineng

I've got something for you," he crooned, reaching down and putting my wedding band back on my finger. The huge diamond ring sparkled in a spotlight against the familiar darkness - the darkness of the bedroom where Tristan had perpetrated so many drug-induced sex acts against me. "You forgot your finest jewelry at home. Never leave home without it. ~ A. Violet End

there are now only two people on earth who know who he is." He swung a finger back and forth between them. "Us." He squeezed her hands, held her eyes with his. "That's why it's such - joy for me to be with you again. Not just because you're my mother. Because you know who I am, because I don't have to hide the truth from you! And don't you feel something like that toward me? How ~ Ira Levin

Get you pretty ass ready and you might as well settle yourself to it. Because you are mine." His finger pointed imperiously toward her chest. "And you will stay mine. ~ Lora Leigh

It is a torturously laboured ride home like this. Allyson is desperate for it to end and would like for it to go on forever.
Willem is just desperate for it to end. He is so full of wanting that it is painful and Allyson keeps lifting his shirt and licking his back, which she shouldn't do while he's riding a bike because he might pass out (But she shouldn't stop, either.) ~ Gayle Forman

Every anniversary was a victory, a middle finger to everyone who thought we wouldn't last. ~ Jamie McGuire

Beyond the electroliers, beyond the beat and toot of the small sidewalk cars, beyond the smell of hot fat and popcorn and the shrill children and the barkers in the peep shows, beyond everything but the smell of the ocean and the suddenly clear line of the shore and the creaming fall of the waves into the pebbled spume. I walked almost alone now. The noises died behind me, the hot dishonest light became a fumbling glare. Then the lightless finger of a black pier jutted seaward into the dark. This would be the one. I turned to go out on it. Red ~ Raymond Chandler

My recommendation is to keep up the good work. I'm changing your title to senior executive assistant, and giving you a three percent raise effective next payday. Congratulations."
Wow, three percent. I could move up that early retirement plan to age seventy-five now, instead of eighty. Lucky me.
Thank you," I said. "That's very generous."
You're quite welcome." Ms. Saunders nodded and grabbed a gold-plated letter opener to begin attacking her stack of mail.
I turned to leave. Didn't want to outstay my welcome.
Damn it!" she exclaimed, and I turned back around. She winced and nodded at the letter opener that she'd dropped to her desktop. "Damn thing slipped. I'm probably going to need stitches now. Can you be a dear and fetch the first-aid kit for me?"
She held her left index finger and frowned at the steady flow of blood oozing out. A few small drops of red splashed onto the other letters spread out on the desk.
I felt woozy. And suddenly dizzy.
I blinked.
When I opened my eyes, I was no longer standing by the door about to leave. I was crouched down next to Ms. Saunders's imported black leather chair, grasping her wrist tightly…… and sucking noisily on her fingertip.
I shrieked and let go of her, staggering backward. I grabbed at her desk to keep from falling, but I dropped on my butt, anyhow, taking most of the contents of the top of her desk with me.
She held her injured finger far away from her and stared at me, wide- ~ Michelle Rowen

Dying is easy, getting the dental floss off your finger and into the trash is hard. ~ Gregor Collins

If Bill Finger created Batman, where is Bill Finger's byline on my strip? It is conspicuous by its absence. ~ Bob Kane

Little bits of Norwegian came to me by a kind of aural osmosis. The most surprising linguistic fact I learned was the impoverishment of that language in swear words. In fact, there is only one- 'farn'- which merely means something like 'devil take it!', but is considered very rude by a well brought-up Viking. It has to pass muster for most of the everyday tragedies that beset an expedition. If a finger is hammered, you jump up and down and cry 'farn'; if you drop an outstanding fossil irretrievably into the sea, you splutter for a while and then mutter 'farn' under your breath. If all your provisions were carried away by a hurricane and death were guaranteed, all the poor Norwegian could do would be to stand on the shingle and cry 'farn' into the wind. Somehow this does not seem adequate for the occasion. ~ Richard Fortey

One guy I dated insisted on being called 'visually impaired.'" Amelie made finger quotes in the air. "I don't really understand that. To me it's like calling someone 'melanin deficient' instead of calling them white. People are so weird. I am a white, blind girl. I am a twenty-two-year old, white, blind girl. Can we just call it like it is? ~ Amy Harmon

I wanted to stare it down and give the reaper the middle finger when I went. ~ Donna Augustine

He stood up, rushed to the fanned-out glossy company brochures. His finger landed on one in the center. Three stylized gold crowns. Corona Labs - BRINGING THE FUTURE TODAY.
"This," he said, finger tapping. Each time he touched the paper it seemed to get warmer.
This turned out to be the brochure for a new company.
Catherine picked it up, showed it to her husband. "I thought I knew more or less all the research labs in the country, but this is a new one." Mac turned the glossy paper over in his big hands. There was a videolette loop embedded in the paper, all the rage nowadays. Some smiling woman in a lab coat endlessly raising a test tube in triumph, putting it down, raising it . . .
Nick was shaking with tension. The logo, the name Corona Laboratories meant nothing to him, but still they shone in his mind. ~ Lisa Marie Rice

When he settles back onto his knee, he wipes a tear away from his own eyes. "Sherry, until I met you I didn't know what life was. I had no clue that I wasn't even alive. It's like you came along and woke up my soul." He's looking straight at her as he talks. He doesn't sound nervous at all, like he's determined to prove to her how serious he is. He takes a deep breath and then continues. "I'll never be able to give you everything you deserve, but I'll definitely spend the rest of my life trying."
He pulls the ring out of the box and slides it on her finger. "I'm not asking you to marry me, Sherry. I'm telling you to marry me, because I can't live without you."
Sherry wraps her arms around his neck and they hold onto one another and cry. "Okay," she finally says. When they begin to kiss, his hand reaches over and turns off the camera. ~ Colleen Hoover

I stared at the reproduced mural in the book
but I was more interested in his finger as he tapped the book with approval. That finger had pulled a trigger in a war. That finger had touched my mother in tender ways I did not fully comprehend. I wanted to talk, to say something, to ask questions. But I couldn't. All the words were stuck in my throat. So I just nodded. ~ Benjamin Alire Saenz

Kelly held up a finger. "No half-assed middle school kissing, either."
"Okay."
"I want the whole deal."
"This is starting to feel like I'm leasing a car or something."
"I'm serious, I want the Irish special."
Nick rolled his eyes and looked up at the ceiling. "Fine. Jesus. ~ Abigail Roux

She studies the endless rows of titles on the bookshelf, then whirls toward me. "Okay. Admit it."

"Admit what?"

She points an accusing finger at me. "You're smart."

I snort loudly. "Of course I'm smart."

"You sure as hell don't act like it." Allie crosses her arms over the front of her loose striped sweater. "In fact, I feel like you go out of your way to make everyone believe you're a dummy. With your 'baby dolls' and foul language and the way you throw 'ain't' into a sentence every so often."

I flash her a grin. "Nope, that's just how I fucking talk, baby doll. Ain't nothing wrong with that. ~ Elle Kennedy

The name Mary Jo Quinn was written neatly in faded blue marker on the front of the scrapbook, its gray edges frayed with age and wear, as though it had been handled often. Such a memento was a strange thing to find in a used bookstore, especially when one considered its contents. I'd discovered the handmade tome buried on the bottom shelf on the back wall of a little musty-smelling shop in the tiny resort town of Copper Harbor. This picturesque community is the gateway to Isle Royale National Park, an island in the western quarter of Lake Superior that beckoned to hikers, kayakers and canoers. Copper Harbor is the northern-most bastion of civilization in Michigan on a crooked finger of land called the Keweenaw Peninsula. Its remote, pristine shoreline provided an excellent respite from a hellacious year for my best friend from high school and me on a late September weekend. ~ Nancy Barr

I love you. If you remember nothing else for the rest of your life, if you fall and hit your head and can't remember my name, if you get so sick you're unrecognizable, if you hate me, if you're on your deathbed and can't manage to even lift a finger - remember this. I. Love. You. Always. Forever. Eternally. Is that kind of love something you can handle, Saylor? ~ Rachel Van Dyken

The baron reminds me of someone, but I can't quite put my finger on who it is," Ramsey remarked.
"I swear my own father never talked to me the way Gillian's uncle just did."
"Your father died before you were old enough to know him."
"It was humiliating, damn it. He sure as certain wasn't what I expected. The way Gillian talked about him, I pictured a mild-mannered gentleman. She thinks he's ... gentle. Is the woman blind? How in God's name can she love such a crotchety old ... "
Ramsey's head snapped up, and he suddenly burst into laughter, breaking Brodick's train of thought. "It's you."
"What?"
"Morgan ... he reminds me of you. My God, Gillian married a man just like her uncle. Look at the baron and you'll see yourself in twenty years."
"Are you suggesting I'm going to become a belligerent, foul-tempered old man?"
"Hell, you're already belligerent and foul-tempered. No wonder she fell in love with you," he drawled ~ Julie Garwood