Gunky Throat Quotes

You saved the world," annabeth said.
"We saved the world."
"And Rachel is the new Oracle, which means she won't be dating anybody."
"You don't sound disappointed," I noticed.
Annabeth shrugged. "Oh, I don't care."
"Uh-huh."
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. I could've stayed that way ~ Rick Riordan

The words that I want to utter
Stuck in the pit of my throat
Is love written in my destiny or
Can someone write it for me
I question myself

Can you see
the wound of my bleeding heart
and the hint of pain on my face
Is love written in my destiny or
Can someone write it for me
I question myself ~ Jyoti Patel

What do you think they'll say about us?" Cassius whispered in Merrick's ear as they danced heart to heart and cheek to cheek.
"That we are two handsome princes madly in love."
"We are certainly handsome this evening," Cassius replied with a twinkle in his eye. They had chosen to wear matching black tailcoats with golden cuff links. "And I shall definitely love you until I take my final breath."
"And I you," Merrick replied with a thick throat as he pressed a discreet kiss to his temple. ~ Riley Hart

Horror fans need horror, okay? They don't need little worms squirming around going down your throat. To them, that's not horror. ~ Michael Rooker

Yaw realised that it was not his scar that terrified her, but rather the problem of language, a marker of her education, her class, compared with his. She had been terrified that for the teacher of the white book, she would have to speak the white tongue. Now, released from English, Esther smiled more brightly than Yaw had seen anyone smile in ages. He could see the large, proud gap that stood in the doorway between her two front teeth, and he found himself training his gaze through that door as though he could see all the way down into her throat, her gut, the home of her very soul. ~ Yaa Gyasi

I wasn't used to having someone know the truth and it all seemed to burn my throat as finally I said the words out loud. ~ Isabelle Rae

Unable to break the tenacious grip, Claude spun around and forced Mr. Braddock backward, slamming him hard into the walls, crashing into bookcases, and finally, in a desperate move, throwing himself out the street window. A shrill, useless scream escaped from my throat as the glass shattered and the cold London air rushed in. The pair disappeared out the window. There was the briefest silence, a thud, and a rattling. ~ Tarun Shanker

His staff had shaken hands with her as though a woman was merely another kind of man. Fools! The seeds of Eve were in this radiant creature. The lullabyes of half a million years throbbed in her throat. Had they no sense of wonder, no reverence, no pride? ~ Mervyn Peake

Mostly, though, he looked at the girl, with her red hair and bare white arms. There was something about the whiteness of those arms that made them seem more naked than the bare arms of other women in church. A lot of red heads had freckles, but she looked as if she had been carved from a block of soap ... She was very pretty, about his age, her hair braided into a silky rope the colour of black cherries. She was fingering a delicate gold cross around her throat, and she turned it just so, into the sunlight, and it shone, became a cruciform flame. She lingered on the gesture, making it a kind of confession, then turned the cross away. ~ Joe Hill

I have a son,' says JJ, marveling at the sound and truth of the words ...
'You know, I love you and Mom ... But I don't even know this baby and the love- ' JJ clears his throat and wipes his suddenly wet eyes with the back of his hand. 'It's bigger. I'd lie down in traffic for him right now. I didn't know it could get bigger.'
Joe nods. 'This is only the beginning. ~ Lisa Genova

I watched, paralyzed, as Nritti sank the blade into his heart. Amar shuddered, his body tense. The muscles of his neck stood out in sharp relief. His eyes rolled back, the whites of his sockets glistening before they focused on me.
"Jaani," he said, a shaky smile curling his lips.
Amar tapped his lips twice, one hand fluttering to his heart. And then he went still. I blinked back tears, and a scream wrenched from my throat. Grief cut me, separating me like a soul from its body. I was nothing more than a being of fury and heartbreak. ~ Roshani Chokshi

Jay's downstairs waiting."
With her father on one side, and the handrail on the other, Violet descended the stairs as if she were floating. Jay stood at the bottom, watching her, frozen in place like a statue.
His black suit looked as if it had been tailored just for him. His jacket fell across his strong shoulders in a perfect line, tapering at his narrow waist. The crisp white linen shirt beneath stood out in contrast against the dark, finely woven wool. He smiled appreciatively as he watched her approach, and Violet felt her breath catch in her throat at the striking image of flawlessness that he presented.
"You...are so beautiful," he whispered fervently as he strode toward her, taking her dad's place at her arm.
She smiled sheepishly up at him. "So are you."
Her mom insisted on taking no fewer than a hundred pictures of the two of them, both alone and together, until Violet felt like her eyes had been permanently damaged by the blinding flash. Finally her father called off her mom, dragging her away into the kitchen so that Violet and Jay could have a moment alone together.
"I meant it," he said. "You look amazing."
She shook her head, not sure what to say, a little embarrassed by the compliment.
"I got you something," he said to her as he reached inside his jacket. "I hope you don't mind, it's not a corsage."
Violet couldn't have cared less about having flowers to pin on her dress, but she was curious about what he had brou ~ Kimberly Derting

We pick up our shots and for the first time there's a total absence of sound in the room. From the ceiling, shy silver things blink and wait. Dennis doesn't sit, but hovers at the edge of the table, leaning in with a darkroom perfected slump. His hair hangs like its edges were dipped in lead. Thin spears pointing to the table. I'm looking at his face; we're both serious in a self-aware way, pretending not to notice.

"It doesn't even feel like I left. God, you look fucking terrible. But it's a terrible face that drinks tequila well. Down. And cheers."

We force a dull clash of cups and pour everything down at once. The hard tequila shudders that never happen in the movies. First your head feels light, then it starts receiving the distress signals from throat, lungs, belly. Your shoulders jerk to shake off the snake that wrapped around you and squeezed. It burns. The good burn. ~ Laurie Perez

Behind me, Eaden cleared his throat. "Rachel?" He was holding open the door of a sleek, tiny black sports car, the kind I didn't know the name of, but recognized as expensive. He looked amused at the way my mouth fell open a little.
"You drive?" I was dumbfounded. I walked back towards him and the glossy black automobile.
He raised an eyebrow. "Yes, I drive. I'm immortal, not Amish. ~ Georgia Bell

I would have, Damien! I would have! I would have rather died a thousand painful, torturous deaths than watch you die one! I would have given up anything to go back to that day and relive it!" Damien takes a step back as I run shaky fingers through my hair. I lower my voice and cry, "When you died, I thought I lost everything. I was empty. Numb inside. And the pain...the pain of feeling my heart break over and over again was never ending. I'm sorry about what happened. I think you know that. But what I think you know more than anything is you haunting me and reminding me of what you sacrificed is the most mean-spirited thing you've ever done." More tears well in my eyes, and I suck them back trying to be strong. "The Damien, I knew wouldn't want this for me. He wouldn't want me to live the rest of my life, loving his ghost.
My Damien was too proud, good, and selfless for that." The one thing that I forgot was that in this dream, this is not my Damien. He's a sinister, sick, and twisted version of the boy I loved. And I know this when he lunges at me, wraps both of his hands around my neck, cuts off the air in my throat, and whispers in a deadly voice, "Love me."
"No!" I bolt upright in my bed choking on air. "No!" I try to steady my breathing, but I'm too shaken up to concentrate ~ Lauren Hammond

Mr. Carter cleared his throat. "Soy sauce." He deadpanned. "Really, Sera? ~ Flora Roberts

The vampire had both his arms around the human girl, and she had both hands pressed to his chest. her throat was just inches from his mouth, but she didn't look frightened of him at all. And he didn't look like he was hunting her. I had tried to wrap my head around the idea of a coven with a pet human, but this was not close to what i had imagined. if she'd been a vampire, i would have guessed that they were together. ~ Stephenie Meyer

Alek coughed politely, "If I promise to avoid funny business, could you perhaps remove this knife from my throat? ~ Scott Westerfeld

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

Thank god for Vegas. Seriously.
A lobotomy wasn't as effective as a weekend three hours of Red Bull away (from LA, not Pismo) where I wore the thinnest pinned stilettos, gambled like a sweaty degenerate mobster in black loafers, drank like Amy Winehouse and Charles Bukowski's baby, and snorted throat-dripping lines of coke in a Hard Rock Hotel bathroom with four new best friends. I'd giddily rub off any one of those from the to-do list I wrote in eyeliner on my hotel bathroom mirror. ~ Christy Heron

Clearing her throat, Peabody turned the cube on record. I owe Dallas, Lieutenant Meaniepants Eve, twenty dollars to be paid out of my hard-earned, under-appreciated detective's salary next payday. Peabody, Detective Churchmouse Delia. ~ J.D. Robb

Rider made this sound in the back of his throat. It was deep and masculine, part groan and growl, and it made me shiver. He folded one hand along my cheek and lowered his head to mine, but he didn't kiss me.
No.
His warm breath glided over my forehead as his hand slid across my cheek, his fingers spreading into my hair at the base. His other hand landed low on my back, and the weight did insane things to my insides. He drew it up my back, leaving a trail of fire in its wake. My eyes fluttered shut as his lips brushed over the curve of my cheek. It was the craziest torture. My entire body tensed, prepared for the moment when his lips met mine.
And it was the sweetest pressure, a feather-light brush of his lips over mine. Once. Then twice. I felt the touch everywhere, a jolt to the system that zipped through my veins, and then the pressure increased.
Rider kissed me then.
It was a real one, soft and beautiful, and when the kiss deepened, it wasn't a shy one. He knew what he was doing, and even though I didn't, an innate knowledge told me it didn't matter. His lips mapped out mine, and my insides were in tight coils.
Kissing was awesome. Amazing. Astonishing. I could probably think of a couple of more words to describe it. Kissing blew me away, and when he lifted his mouth, both of us were breathing hard. He rested his forehead against mine. Neither of us spoke for several moments.
I still wasn't thinking. I had no idea how my hands had gotten ~ Jennifer L. Armentrout

A small warehouse. Dark inside, against the bright daylight. Reacher walked closer. There was a sound inside. Fast wheezing breaths, bubbling and gurgling, each one ending in a tiny gasp or yelp. The sound of a guy breathing hard with broken ribs and blood in his throat. Reacher took his Colt out of his pocket. He clicked the safety. He put his finger on the trigger. He kept close to the wall, and tried to see in through the crack of the hinge. A big dark mass. He followed the angle of the left-hand door, and flattened his back against the last part of it. Neagley waited a yard away. She would replace him when he moved. He listened to the breathing. Wheezing, bubbling, yelping. He moved off the door and peered around its edge. He ~ Lee Child

Sometimes the darkness that shown from Rafe's eyes scared Skye so that her breath caught in the back of her throat, preventing her from answering his prying questions. There was something beyond forceful, dark and dangerous, that she just couldn't put her finger on. Like she couldn't trust him - that he might do something to her, but she almost didn't care. The longing that pervaded every fiber of her being made her ache for his darkness. - quote from my book Capture My Soul ~ Audra Claire

Of all the unchristian beverages that ever passed my lips, Turkish coffee is the worst. The cup is small, it is smeared with grounds; the coffee is black, thick, unsavory of smell, and execrable in taste. The bottom of the cup has a muddy sediment in it half an inch deep. This goes down your throat, and portions of it lodge by the way, and produce a tickling aggravation that keeps you barking and coughing for an hour. ~ Mark Twain

You got to knock a man down and put your knife at his throat before he'll hear you, like I did to that trooper. The truth seems hateful to most everybody. ~ Thomas Berger

I swallow the fear in my throat as his cold eyes hold mine.
"Go to Hell," I whisper.
"I'm the gate keeper of Hell, baby. Welcome home. ~ T.L. Swan

She was the third beer. Not the first one, which the throat receives with almost tearful gratitude; nor the second, that confirms and extends the pleasure of the first. But the third, the one you drink because it's there, because it can't hurt, and because what difference does it make? ~ Toni Morrison

Emily knew she was going to cry. She tried to avert it with a childhood trick that had sometimes worked before - pressing both thumbnails hard into the tender flesh beneath the nails of her index fingers, so that the self-inflicted pain might be greater than the ache of her swelling throat - but it was no use. ~ Richard Yates

Up until the mid twentieth century the mountain gorilla was considered a myth. Oddly enough, a legend not unlike bigfoot or the loch ness monster. The chance of actually seeing/experiencing this elusive shadow was as likely as finding ones soulmate. Rare. Precious. Even once discovered they seemed unapproachable. The only way to get close to this magnificent creature was to become empathetic. Abandon all pretense and preconceptions. To bare an open throat. To collapse into the arms of vulnerability. All but extinct, these beings/moments are threatened by the black hearted. The cold and oblivious. The empty eyed profit seekers that overlook these rare precious moments. ~ Maynard James Keenan

Now you stride alone through the Paris crowds
Busses in bellowing herds roll by
Anguish clutches your throat
As if you would never again be loved
In the old days you would have turned monk
With shame you catch yourself praying
And jeer your laughter crackles like hellfire
Its sparks gild the depths of your life
Which like a painting in a dark museum
You approach sometimes to peer at closely ~ Guillame Apollinaire

Come here," he growled, his body so heavy with need that he was afraid he would explode into fragments if he took one step.
She shook her head slowly, her tongue deliberately moistening her full lower lip. "I only want my true lifemate. I hunger tonight. My body is hungry." Her hand drifted slowly, enticingly, over her satin skin, and his eyes followed the graceful movement while his body raged at him.
Gregori covered the distance between them in a sudden surge, catching her up, the momentum taking them to the wall. He held her prisoner there, his mouth fastened on hers, commanding her response, feeding, devouring, his hands claiming her body for his own. "No one else will ever touch you and live," he snarled, his mouth burning a trail of fire down her throat to her breast. He fed hungrily, his teeth grazing the creamy fullness. "No other, Savannah."
"Why, Gregori? Why can no other touch my body like this?" she whispered, her mouth on his skin, her tongue lapping at his pulse. "Tell me why my body is only yours and your body is only mine."
His hands cupped her bottom, brought her hard against him. "You know why, Savannah."
"Say it, Gregori. Say it if you believe it. I won't have lies between us. You have to feel it in your heart as I do. You have to feel it in your mind. Your body has to burn for mine. But most of all, in your deepest soul, you have to know I'm your other half."
He lifted her, set her up high on the rim of the sleeping cham ~ Christine Feehan

The one thing the blues don't get is the backing and pushing of TV and radio like a lot of this garbage you hears. They choke stuff down people's throat so they got no choice but to listen to it. ~ John Lee Hooker

He grabbed a handful of God's silky curls and pulled, making him tilt his head back and show his throat. Day's senses snapped, turning feral. Day growled with the animalistic urge to leave a large bite mark on his man. Day bowed forward as his cock's first eruption of a thick, white rope of come hit God's Adam's apple, followed by much more painting his lover's neck and cheek. Day pulled slow, firm strokes up to his head before dragging back down until he was completely emptied. "Mmmhmm. I'm yours, sweetheart," God said, giving him a sexy grin. "Fucking right you are," Day said while he kissed and licked God's face clean. ~ A.E. Via

That beautifully crooked smile hit me like a punch to the face. He leaned in. "Miss me?"
I shook my head, my throat thickening drastically. "You're an asshole."
"I know," he uttered roughly. "But this asshole adores you. ~ Belle Aurora

Don't go for a man's throat when he hasn't hurt you. ~ Paul Bamikole

When one contemplated Portia, when one contemplated Sharon, when one contemplated one's own apparently pointless, utterly trivial being, the questions hung all around one, as urgent as knives at the throat. But the instant one tried to grasp one of them and turn it to one's own purpose and pierce through the murk, it became blunt and useless as a piece of cardboard. ~ Deborah Eisenberg

He watched him turn, his throat racked by forces pulling him in different directions. Part of him wanted to grab him by the neck, force him to his knees, and caress the skin off him while covering his face with frenzied kisses. But, God, part of him wanted to bite him. To fill his lips with the boy's moans and tears before extracting more from him, until the boy was so disgusted that he'd never want to touch Charles again.
Because that was what terrified Charles more than anything else: Dorian's touch. And what his hands might uncover deep in his soul. ~ Valentina C. Brin

A question wells up inside me, a question so big it blocks my throat and makes it hard to breathe. Somehow I swallow it back, finally choosing another.
"Are memories such an important thing?"
"It depends," she replies, and closes her eyes. "In some cases, they're the most important thing there is. ~ Haruki Murakami

Oh Shnorhk, how beautifully you speak Armenian, the third thing I miss most about you. The second thing I miss most about you: how beautifully you play."
Shnorhk not say anything. What trying to say only take away. Shnorhk just scald throat with more tea and eat cake after cake.
Grateful still, in the end, that Mnatsagan, always kind, is kind enough not to say the first thing he miss so much. ~ Mark Z. Danielewski

Thirrin's fighting spirit still roared within her though, and as the creature lowered its jaws towards her throat she punched it hard on the nose. The werewolf shook its head and sneezed, taken completely aback. ~ Stuart Hill

Afterward, we lay on our sides facing each other. I murmured, "I know it couldn't possibly be worth the wait for you, but was it-"
"By all gods, it was worth the wait." He cupped my face, had to clear his throat before he could say, "Do you understand how precious you are to me? Not because I can touch you - that merely allowed me to recognize you." I laid my hand over his heart. For two thousand years, it'd been one way. Now it was changed. His brows drew together, as if he was trying to sort through chaotic thoughts. He opened his mouth to speak, closed it, then tried again: "That wild storm was a tiny fraction of what was going on inside of me. I look at you...and I soar. I make love to you, and everything is new; I feel...so much. I'm certain my chest will explode from it...Gods, I make no sense, do I?" Color tinged his broad cheekbones. "Tonight has boggled my mind. You have boggled my mind." He held my gaze with his own. "Sieva, I am a planet off its axis." I lost myself in his eyes. "I love you too, Aric." The corner of his lips curled. ~ Kresley Cole

If I found in my own ranks that a certain number of guys wanted to cut my throat, I'd make sure that I cut their throats first. ~ Pierre Trudeau

I had something in my throat. It felt like I had swallowed the whole world. ~ Frida Kahlo