Flat Chest Quotes

The 1920s brought not only the Charleston but the flat chest. ~ Robert Gottlieb

The fact that Aracely might understand what he could not say, it seeded in him a want, new and raw, like not knowing he was thirsty until water was in front of him. No one else, not his mother, not even Miel, could understand this wanting to live a life different from the one he was born into, so much that his own skin felt like ice cracking.

It shouldn't have mattered, not when Miel and the other girls in his class wore jeans more than they wore skirts. Not when they went out as late as they wanted. Not when they told their brothers what to do, and borrowed their fathers' books.

But there was everything else. The idea of being called Miss or Ms. or, worse, Mrs. The thought of being grouped in when someone called out 'girls' or 'ladies.' The endless, echoing use of 'she' and 'her,' 'miss' and 'ma'am.' Yes, they were words. They were all just words. But each of them was wrong, and they stuck to him. Each one was a golden fire ant, and they were biting his arms and his neck and his bound-flat chest, leaving him bleeding and burning.

'He. Him. Mister. Sir.' Even teachers admonishing him and his classmates with 'boys, settle down,' or 'gentlemen, please.' These were sounds as perfect and clean as winter rain, and they calmed each searing bite of those wrong words. ~ Anna-Marie McLemore

The ideal build for a golfer would be strong hands, big forearms, thin neck, big thighs and a flat chest. He'd look like Popeye. ~ Gary Player

Once, long ago, Francis Crawford had reduced her to terror and, the episode over, she had suffered to find that for Kate, apparently, no reason suggested itself against making that same Francis Crawford her friend. He was not Philippa's friend. She had made that clear, and, to be fair, he had respected it. He had even, when you thought of it, curtailed his visits to Kate, although Kate's studied lack of comment on this served only to make Philippa angrier. He had been nasty at Boghall. He had hit her at Liddel Keep. He had stopped her going anywhere for weeks. He had saved her life. That was indisputable. He had been effective over poor Trotty Luckup, while she had been pretty rude, and he hadn't forced himself on her; and he had made her warm with his cloak. He had gone to Liddel Keep expressly to warn her, and when she had been pig-headed about leaving (Kate was right) he had done the only thing possible to make her. And then he had come to Flaw Valleys for nothing but to make sure of her safety, and he had been so tired that Kate had cried after he had gone. And then it had suddenly struck her, firmly and deeply in her shamefully flat chest, so that her heart thumped and her eyes filled with tears, that maybe she was wrong. Put together everything you knew of Francis Crawford. Put together what you had heard at Boghall and at Midculter, what you had seen at Flaw Valleys, and it all added up to one enormous, soul-crushing entity. She had been wrong. She did not understand h ~ Dorothy Dunnett

A very ladylike bosom," she said, approvingly.
"There's nothing there," I complained.
The clerk grinned. "I have been fitting bras for twenty-five years and no
one ever thinks her breasts are good enough," she said. "You'll save yourself a
lot of unhappiness if you accept and enjoy what you have. Neat little breasts are
very chic. ~ Marta Acosta

From as far back as I can remember, I was always insecure about my looks, whether it was my flat chest, my skinny legs, or how to cope with my body as it changed. With hindsight, I can see I was different. I was given a body that worked for photographic modelling and a photogenic face. ~ Twiggy

Grief, I've learned, is really just love. It's all the love you want to give, but cannot. All that unspent love gathers up in the corners of your eyes, the lump in your throat, and in that hollow part of your chest. Grief is just love with no place to go. ~ Jamie Anderson

Aye, Jessica, I like you. And I'm not just stuck with you. You fit me here, woman. He thumped his chest with his fist. ~ Karen Marie Moning

A long time ago people believed that the world is flat and the moon is made of green cheese. Some still do, to this day. The man on the moon is looking down and laughing. ~ Vera Nazarian

I felt that I could swim for miles, out into the ocean: a desire for freedom, an impulse to move, tugged at me as though it were a thread fastened to my chest. It was an impulse I knew well, and I had learned that it was not the summons from a larger world I used to believe it to be. It was simply a desire to escape from what I had. ~ Rachel Cusk

Monstrosities of tall "monuments" and draped urns. One of the latter, the biggest and ugliest in the graveyard, was sacred to the memory of a certain Alec Davis who had been born a Methodist but had taken to himself a Presbyterian bride of the Douglas clan. She had made him turn Presbyterian and kept him toeing the Presbyterian mark all his life. But when he died she did not dare to doom him to a lonely grave in the Presbyterian graveyard over-harbour. His people were all buried in the Methodist cemetery; so Alec Davis went back to his own in death and his widow consoled herself by erecting a monument which cost more than any of the Methodists could afford. The Meredith children hated it, without just knowing why, but they loved the old, flat, bench-like stones with the tall grasses growing rankly about them. They made jolly seats for one thing. They were all sitting on one now. Jerry, tired of leap frog, was playing on ~ L.M. Montgomery

Alex felt something dark inside her uncoil. "You're a flat beast," Hellie had once said to her. "Got a little viper lurking in there, ready to strike. A rattler probably." She'd said it with a grin, but she'd been right. ~ Leigh Bardugo

For my sake," he said suddenly, and my chest throbbed. "For your sake," I replied. ~ R.K. Ryals

Have you ever thought, thought your heart would break? Wished you could cut open your chest tear it out to stop the pain? Why don´t you riot like everyone else. I don't care, life's too long. You can have any man you want. I want him...except him. Always suspected the world didn't smell of fresh paint and flowers. Smells of piss and human sweat If there could have been more moments like this. ~ Sarah Kane

I'd love to be in the '70s. I'd love to have a big, long wig parted down the middle with flat-ironed hair and bell-bottoms. They're actually very flattering for my figure. The wider the leg, the better for a person with a booty. ~ Sarah Paulson

Take a relief. You draw it, you carve it out. Later you build it up from a flat surface. There is no other way to do a sculpture - you either add or you subtract. ~ Urs Fischer

Within the grand scale of things, sitting in a classroom day after day is so utterly meaningless and pointless that it actually makes his chest hurt to think about it. ~ Tabitha Suzuma

Take cover!" but could not move himself. The helicopter nosed in unsteadily, rags of cloud catching in its whirring vanes. Even as he watched it approach, Rocannon watched from inside it, not knowing what he looked for, seeing two small figures on the mountainside, afraid, afraid - a flash of light, a hot shock of pain, pain in his own flesh, intolerable. The mind-contact was broken, blown clean away. He was himself, standing on the ledge pressing his right hand against his chest and gasping, seeing the helicopter creep still closer, its vanes whirring with a dry loud rattle, its laser-mounted nose pointing at him. ~ Ursula K. Le Guin

The whitewash'd wall, the nicely sanded floor, The varnish'd clock that click'd behind the door; The chest, contriv'd a double debt to pay,- A bed by night, a chest of drawers by day. ~ Oliver Goldsmith

He crossed his arms stiffly over his chest. "Oh yeah," he said, with a pleased nod. "Bad cop is ready."

-Oscar ~ Marissa Meyer

Morrie talked about his most fearful moments, when he felt his chest locked in heaving surges or when he wasn't sure where his next breath would come from. These horrifying times, he said, and his first emotions were horror, fear, anxiety. But once he recognized the feel of those emotions, their texture, their moisture, the shiver down the back, the quick flash of heat that crosses your brain - then he was able to say, Okay,. This is fear. Step away from it. Step away. ~ Mitch Albom

You stand in a dark room and grow a tree in your chest.
The color pink is your national anthem.
You have fled the burning city, but your pocket smolders.
He bats his eyelids and dust flies.
You are a well trying to quench its own thirst,
a tiger licking its bloody paw. ~ Karen Finneyfrock

:Paintings are easy to see," he said after a moment. "Open, presented flat to the eye. Words are not easy. Words have to be discovered, deep in their pages, deciphered, translated, read. Words are symbols to be encoded, their letters trees in a forest, enmeshed, their tangled meanings never finally picked apart. ~ Catherine Fisher

The wolf was not far away. After only a short time, he crested a nearby hill. His eyes blazing yellow fire. Fierce. For his mistress called. There she knelt. Queenly and yet so wild. Arrow set to bow - spilling out a bloody light.
At the sight of her, passion filled him. It rose in his gut, swelled his chest, then burst out of his throat. It overwhelmed the air and beat against the starry roof. The howl filled the mounds, rang out through the Vale and then rolled into Minonowe.
She had called him and here was his answer.
The spiders were out there. Running. With Luthiel, he would hunt them. ~ Robert Fanney

Your thigh? Your shoulder? Is there any part of you that hasn't been hurt yet?"
He seemed to be contemplating my question for a moment and then he nodded. He tapped his chest. "Yeah, my heart." He looked over at me. "But its feeling mighty vulnerable these days, so who knows. ~ Tess Oliver

You are beaten to earth? Well, well, what's that? Come up with a smiling face, It's nothing against you to fall down flat But to lie there - that's a disgrace. ~ Edmund Vance Cooke

Part of doing stand-up is to get things off your chest. It's a bit like being in a psychiatrist's chair - but more enjoyable. ~ Jack Whitehall

I couldn't see it because you are my heart, damn you! And how can I see my own heart if it's beating in my own chest? ~ Julie Anne Long

The first piece of 'long' fiction I wrote was a novella parody of Stephen King's 'Christine.' I was in high school, and my version was about a kid with a possessed locker instead of a possessed car. It was also my first attempt at humour, which fell completely flat because no one who read it realized it was a parody! ~ Kelley Armstrong

She will be busy writing novels. As soon as she had has gotten far enough away from this frighteningly puritanical country, her mind will be set free, and she will be able to turn all of her observations in richly drawn characters and intricately themed stories."
"But what will she eat, dear Grass?" Barnard leaned against the wall, his arms crossing his chest skeptically.
"Baguette and red wine, pure art, filthy air. Look at her, she is made of rose petals, and the world will take good care of her. And if it does not, we will have our hearts moved by such an exquisitely gorgeous tragedy. ~ Anna Godbersen

We also need to encourage Americans to become more fiscally responsible themselves. We can do this by redesigning our tax system into an expenditure tax with a single flat rate ... We have to substantially reduce the size and scope of the federal government, fundamentally increase the role of the states in choosing their own practices, and bring decision-making closer to the people, not to unelected administrators. These steps are crucial to getting our nation on a path of fiscal, political and constitutional responsibility. ~ Edwin Feulner

They refused to sing non-German songs. The greater the efforts made to win them away from their German allegiance, the more they exalted the glory of their German heroes. They stinted themselves in buying things to eat, so that they might spare their pennies to help the war chest of their elders. They were incredibly alert in the significance of what the non-German teachers said and they contradicted in unison. They wore the forbidden emblems of their own kinsfolk and were happy when penalized for doing so, or even physically punished. In miniature they were mirrors of loyalty from which the older people might learn a lesson. ~ Adolf Hitler

It should have been the Arabian Nights, but to Bond, seeing it first above the tops of trams and above the great scars of modern advertising along the river frontage, it seemed a once beautiful theatre-set that modern Turkey had thrown aside in favour of the steel and concrete flat-iron of the Istanbul-Hilton Hotel, blankly glittering behind him on the heights of Pera. ~ Ian Fleming

Even now when I'm furious, what I would like to do is to punch the infuriating person flat on the ground. That solves nothing I know, and I spent a lot of time understanding my own violence, which is not of the pussycat kind. There are people who could never commit murder; I am not one of those people. It's better to know it, better to know who you are, and what lies in you, and what you could do, might do, under extreme provocation. ~ Jeanette Winterson

I look at her and ask, flat out, "What's up?" Girl talk, of course, for, Back off my man, biotch. ~ Rusty Fischer

Men's rights activists tend to make a series of valid observations from which they proceed to a single, 180-degree-wrong conclusion. They are correct to point out that, worldwide, suicide is the most common form of death for men under fifty. It's also true that men are more likely than women to have serious problems with alcohol, that men die younger, that the prison population is 95 per cent male and that the lack of support for our returning frontline soldiers is a national disgrace. So far, so regrettably true.

They are incorrect, however, to lay any of this at the door of 'feminism', a term which they use almost interchangeably with 'women'. [...]

No, sir. No, lads. No, Daddy. That won't help us and it won't help anyone else. Men in trouble are often in trouble precisely because they are trying to Get a Grip and Act Like a Man. We are at risk of suicide because the alternative is to ask for help, something we have been repeatedly told is unmanly. We are in prison because the traditional breadwinning expectation of manhood can't be met, or the pressure to conform is too great, or the option of violence has been frowned upon but implicitly sanctioned since we were children. [...]

We die younger than women because, for one thing, we don't go to the doctor. We don't take ourselves too seriously. We don't want to be thought self-indulgent. The mark of a real man is being able to tolerate a chest infection for three months before laying off the ~ Robert Webb

Fix your awareness gently on the center of your chest. Try to feel love. ~ Frederick Lenz

It is enough," she said finally. "But there will be another, less tangible cost."
"Anything," said Lundy.
"That word, that promise, strike it from your tongue," said the Archivist. "With that word, I could ask for the heart in your chest and the blood in your veins and you could not stop me. There is no value fair enough to warrant an open check. ~ Seanan McGuire

Then what's wrong?"
He couldn't be that obtuse. "You're kidding, right?"
"Ah, yeah, gotcha. Modesty issue, huh?" He drove in a deceptively relaxed way. "Look, yours isn't the first tail I've ever seen, okay?"
Fury stole Priss's breath. She reacted without thinking, slugging his hard in the shoulder.
"Ow!" He grabbed her wrist and tossed her hand back at her. "I was trying to comfort you, woman."
"Comfort!" He couldn't be serious. No man could be that dense. "You're a . . . a Neanderthal!"
"Am not."
Flattened by his careless attitude, Priss stared at him in disbelief. He was a gorgeous guy, but still a jerk. Shaggy blond hair, darker and more unkempt than Trace's, piercing green eyes, a strong jaw and . . . she peeked at his naked chest . . . Built.
Her chin lifted. "Where in the world did they even find you?" It had to be under a rock. Or deep in a cave.
He glared at her. "They who?"
"Trace and Dare."
Giving her a cautious frown, Jackson rubbed at one bloodshot, swollen eye. "That's top secret."
That's top secret, she mouthed, making fun of him, lashing out in her embarrassment.
He went rigid with affront. "Goddamn it, woman, you blinded me, nutted me, and damn near clubbed me to death. Now you have to ridicule me, too?"
He dared to complain to her? "You snuck into my bathroom. You saw me naked!"
"Yeah." His mouth twitched. He nodded just a little. "Yeah, I did." As he turned on his headlights and pull ~ Lori Foster

I'm sorry I didn't trust you," I said to my Holmes, in a low voice . . . "I meant to say that I won't doubt you again."
"You won't," she said with flat surprise. "You really won't, will you? ~ Brittany Cavallaro

It was one of those moments in which I become very uncomfortable. One of those times when nothing you say can be right, and almost anything you do say is wrong. I could see no answer but the classic Croaker approach.
I began to back away.
That is how I handle my women. Duck for cover when they get distressed.
I almost made it to the door.
She could move when she wanted. She crossed the gap and put her arms around me, rested a cheek against my chest.
And that is how they handle me, the sentimental fool. The closet romantic. ~ Glen Cook

Fifteen minutes later I'm hunched over the steering wheel of a two-seater that looks like something you'd find in your corn flakes packet. The Smart is insanely cute and compact, does about seventy miles to a gallon, and is the ideal second car for nipping about town but I'm not nipping about town. I'm going flat out at maybe a hundred and fifty kilometers per hour on the autobahn while some joker is shooting at me from behind with a cannon that fires Porsches and Mercedes. Meanwhile, I'm stuck driving something that handles like a turbocharged baby buggy. I've got my fog lights on in a vain attempt to deter the other road users from turning me into a hood ornament, but the jet wash every time another executive panzer overtakes me keeps threatening to roll me right over onto my roof. And that's before you factor in the deranged Serbian truck drivers driven mad with joy by exposure to a motorway that hasn't been cluster-bombed and then resurfaced by the lowest bidder. ~ Charles Stross

Grief was a hell of a thing. Some days you climbed the walls and others you couldn't get out of bed. Just when you thought you might be pulling through, something would punch you in the gut and you'd be flat on your back again. ~ Brenda Rothert

DYER. (Sits down) There was nothing that I recall save that the Sunne was a Round flat shining Disc and the Thunder was a Noise from a Drum or a Pan.
VANNBRUGGHE. (Aside) What a Child is this! (To Dyer) These are only our Devices, and are like the Paint of our Painted Age.
DYER. But in Meditation the Sunne is a vast and glorious Body, and Thunder is the most forcible and terrible Phaenomenon: it is not to be mocked, for the highest Passion is Terrour. ~ Peter Ackroyd

It was when she returned to him, chilled & clearheaded, that it happened. He sat against the tree, his knees bent & his head in his hands. His shoulders slumped. Tired, unhappy. Something tender caught in her breath at the sight of him. And then he raised his eyes and looked at her, and she saw what she had not seen before. She gasped.
His eyes were beautiful. His face was beautiful to her in every way, and his shoulders and hands. And his arms that hung over his knees, and his chest that was not moving, because he held his breath as he watched her. And the heart in his chest. This friend. How had she not seen this before? How had she not seen him? She was blind. And then tears choked her eyes, for she had not asked for this. She had not asked for this beautiful man before her, with something hopeful in his eyes that she did not want. ~ Kristin Cashore

Travel broadens, they say. My personal experience has been that, in the short term at any rate, it merely flattens, aiming its steam-roller of deadlines and details straight at one's daily life, leaving a person flat and gasping at its passage. ~ Laurie R. King

Jane felt limp and sated and thoroughly wicked as she snuggled against Dom. They were still joined below, though he'd begun to soften inside her. Still, how naughty it was to be here like this, how deliciously carnal to have made love while they were both half-dressed. Why, Dom still even wore his cravat! She didn't know why that excited her, though it did.
But not as much as Dom saying "please" over and over. Letting her take control of their lovemaking. Even encouraging her to do it.
And not nearly as much as Dom asking her to marry him.
Well, he didn't really ask, exactly. He demanded it yet again. But he'd said "please," and that made all the difference. Especially since he'd then asked her to love him.
Silly man. As if she had any choice in the matter.
"I do love you, you know," she whispered. "I can't help myself. I fell in love with you practically from the moment we met, and I never stopped."
"I love you, too, sweeting," he murmured into her shoulder. "Always have, always will."
Her heart thundered in her chest. She'd waited so long to hear those words again, she could scarcely believe them.
She pulled back to search his face. "Truly?"
"Truly." With infinite tenderness, he brushed her fringe of curls from her eyes. "I tried so hard to forget you after we parted. But I couldn't. Not for one day."
That earned him a long kiss…that, and the prospect of him as hers. Her very own husband. Oh, yes. She could let herself think ~ Sabrina Jeffries

I also had the distinct impression that, when he'd leaned into my space, he'd tried to smell me, and he'd managed to do it without coming across as a creepy creeper. Admittedly, if he were less epically good-looking, he might have come across as a creepy creeper. But, as he had the body of a gladiator and the face of a movie star, I felt flustered, flattered, and turned on. The fact that I felt flattered made me feel like an idiot. I hated this about myself. I hated that, even though I knew better, good looks negated odd behavior. His odd behavior being that he was attempting to use all five of his senses to experience me while trapping us in an elevator; I didn't doubt that, if I'd given him any indication that I was in favor of his advances, he would have tried to taste me as well. I shivered at the thought, a wave of warmth spreading from my chest to the pit of my stomach, stinging and sudden, like a hot flash. ~ L. H. Cosway

I didn't do anything but sit quietly and pay attention to the fact that my hollow chest was still beating. I was still alive and could see that the new normal wasn't so bad. ~ Dee Williams

When he reached her, he put his hand on her shoulder and searched her face in the dim light. "Valten." She said his name on a happy sigh as she looked into his eyes. He put his arms around her, pulling her against his chest. ~ Melanie Dickerson