Hot Quotes

Still, there are many things we can toss at them that don't require magic at all. Acid. Hot oil. Bookshelves. ~ Aprilynne Pike

Those dripping crumpets, I can see them now. Tiny crisp wedges of toast, and piping-hot, flaky scones. Sandwiches of unknown nature, mysteriously flavoured and quite delectable, and that very special gingerbread. Angel cake, that melted in the mouth, and his rather stodgier companion, bursting with peel and raisins. There was enough food there to keep a starving family for a week. ~ Daphne Du Maurier

He surveyed me, his eyes half closed, as if wondering if I were a delicious snack. I had an image of a massive dragon circling me slowly, eyes full of magic fixed on me as he moved, considering if he should bite me in half.
"Dragons." Rogan snapped his fingers.
Oh crap.
"I wondered why I kept getting dragons around you." He leaned forward. His eyes lit up, turning back to their clear sky blue. "You think I'm a dragon."
"Don't be ridiculous." My face felt hot. I was probably blushing. Damn it.
His smile went from amused to sexual, so charged with promise that carnal was the only way to describe it. I almost bolted out of my chair.
"Big powerful scary dragon."
"You have delusions of grandeur."
"Do I have a lair? Did I kidnap you to it from your castle?"
I stared straight at him, trying to frost my voice. "You have some strange fantasies, Rogan. You may need professional help."
"Would you like to volunteer?"
"No. Besides, dragons kidnap virgins, so I'm out." And why had I just told him I was not a virgin? Why did I even go there?
"It doesn't matter if I'm the first. It only matters that I'll be the last."
"You won't be the first, the last, or anything in between. Not in a million years."
He laughed.
"Rogan," I ground out through my teeth. "I'm on the clock. My client is in the next room mourning his wife. Stop flirting with me."
"Stop? I haven't even started. ~ Ilona Andrews

Bright lamplight bounced off golden varnished wood. The suddenly vivid colors of scarves, hats, hair and faces after the gray-green gloom they'd been immersed in all morning dazzled them. The solid warmth of the coal-fired range, dry and hot, pressed against them from the front as the lingering damp embedded in their backs brought forth a final, convulsive shiver. The sights and smells of rich food and aromatic coffee hit them, no longer just a hope in their hollow stomachs. This made them all as if drunk with good fortune and delighted them with sheer, physical pleasure. ~ Antonio Dias

We Persian women certainly know how to hold our tongues, but when emotions flare, we say it, and say it hot. Maybe Middle-Eastern weather creates residents who feel and respond in ways bizarre to the rest of the world. I'm sure culture and weather connect in some way. ~ Michael Ben Zehabe

At about the end of the eighteen minutes and twenty miles, I said: "But suppose I don't find anything before election day?"

The Boss said, "To hell with election day. I can deliver Masters prepaid, special handling. But if it takes ten years, you find it."

We clocked off five miles more, and I said, "But suppose there isn't anything to find."

And the Boss said, "There is always something."

And I said, "Maybe not on the Judge."

And he said, "Man is conceived in sin and born in corruption and he passeth from the stink of the didie to the stench of the shroud. There is always something."

Two miles more, and he said, "And make it stick."

And that was all a good while ago. And Masters is dead now, as dead as a mackerel, but the Boss was right and he went to the Senate. And Callahan is not dead but he has wished he were, no doubt, for he used up his luck a long time back and being dead was not part of it. And Adam Stanton is dead now, too, who used to go fishing with me and who lay on the sand in the hot sunshine with me and with Anne Stanton. And Judge Irwin is dead, who leaned toward me among the stems of the tall gray marsh grass, in the gray damp wintry dawn, and said, "You ought to have led that duck more, Jack. You got to lead a duck, son." And the Boss is dead, who said to me, "And make it stick."

Little Jackie made it stick, all right. ~ Robert Penn Warren

History is the dark magician inside us, tearing at our liver. (Deborah Levy, Hot Milk, p. 185) ~ Deborah Levy

I don't know what happened. One minute, I was dreamin' about a fat piece of George Clooney and a hot date with some brown sugar pound cake, and the next thing I knew, the house was coming down on us. ~ Kami Garcia

We had some memorable times, on those long, hot summer nights, along the shores of the mighty Rideau; but we were by no means the first to do so. ~ Arlene Stafford-Wilson

Outsong in the Jungle

[Baloo:] For the sake of him who showed
One wise Frog the Jungle-Road,
Keep the Law the Man-Pack make
For thy blind old Baloo's sake!
Clean or tainted, hot or stale,
Hold it as it were the Trail,
Through the day and through the night,
Questing neither left nor right.
For the sake of him who loves
Thee beyond all else that moves,
When thy Pack would make thee pain,
Say: "Tabaqui sings again."
When thy Pack would work thee ill,
Say: "Shere Khan is yet to kill."
When the knife is drawn to slay,
Keep the Law and go thy way.
(Root and honey, palm and spathe,
Guard a cub from harm and scathe!)

Wood and Water, Wind and Tree,
Jungle-Favour go with thee!

[Kaa:] Anger is the egg of Fear--
Only lidless eyes see clear.
Cobra-poison none may leech--
Even so with Cobra-speech.
Open talk shall call to thee
Strength, whose mate is Courtesy.
Send no lunge beyond thy length.
Lend no rotten bough thy strength.
Gauge thy gape with buck or goat,
Lest thine eye should choke thy throat.
After gorging, wouldst thou sleep ?
Look thy den be hid and deep,
Lest a wrong, by thee forgot,
Draw thy killer to the spot.
East and West and North and South,
Wash thy hide and close thy mouth.
(Pit and rift and blue pool-brim,
Middle-Jungle follow him!)

Wood and Water, W ~ Rudyard Kipling

When you're hot, it's fair, when you're not, it's foul. ~ Harold Reynolds

It's alright. I mean, sex can be messy sometimes and these things happen and ... I really need to stop talking." Kyler chuckled deeply and then he kissed the tip of my nose. "Have I told you how adorable you are?" Adorable? I'd been aiming for sexy or hot. I shrugged one shoulder. "You're fucking adorable. ~ Jennifer L. Armentrout

I love you,' I told him.
It was not the first time, but I didn't want it to be the last.
Austin gathered me close and breathed into my hair, his big hands hot and restless on my back. 'I love you, too. ~ Megan Hart

She held out a small voice recorder. 'By the way, could you describe exactly how you felt at the moment of impact? I'm writing this short story
'
'Put that away, Hazel,' hissed Mam. 'The poor boy is in pain.'
Hazel persisted. 'Would that be a white-hot pain? Or more of a dull throbbing pain? ~ Eoin Colfer

You look like a pagan. A pagan warrior queen." He scraped his teeth along her throat. "Naked, glowing, wearing nothing but ropes of diamonds."
"I want you inside me." Breath tearing, she bit at his ear. "Hot, hard inside me."
"My hands are busy at the moment." He filled them with her breasts. "I'll need help getting out of this shirt."
She reached up, tore it open, sending buttons flying.
"Well, that's one way."
"It's how it works when you're a pagan warrior queen. Take me." She gripped his hair, yanked his mouth to hers. "I want you to take me like there's nothing you need more."
"There isn't. It's you. It's always you. ~ J.D. Robb

For some women, a man is their whole meal. For me, life is a full meal and a man is just the hot sauce. If a man wants to be my whole meal, I say, 'That's nice, baby, but right now, I'm already full. ~ Lisa Nicole Carson

I've got one more record. - Have you heard "So Long, Letty"? I suppose you have.'
'Honestly, you don't understand - I haven't heard a thing.'
Nor known, nor smelt, nor tasted he might have added; only hot cheeked girls in hot secret rooms. The young maidens he had known at New Haven in 1914 kissed men saying 'There!' hands at the man's chest to push him away. Now there was this scarcely saved waif of disaster bringing him the essence of a continent ... ~ F Scott Fitzgerald

At a press conference yesterday NASA announced that 2005 was the hottest year on record. It is so hot, and global warming is so bad, if the presidential election were held today, Al Gore would still lose. ~ Jay Leno

Affliction hardens and discourages us because, like a red hot iron, it stamps the soul to its very depths with the scorn, the disgust, and even the self-hatred and sense of guilt that crime logically should produce but actually does not. ~ Simone Weil

We lived in a safe, family-friendly area, but parts of London were rough, as you'd expect from any large city. Mark had a knack for attracting muggers. One time, we were in a train station and a little kid--no more than about eight years old--came up to him: "Oi, mate, give me your phone." We always carried the cool Nokia phones with the Snake game on them, and they were the hot item. It was like inviting trouble carrying one around, but we didn't care.
Mark thought the mini-mugger was crazy: "Are you kidding me? No way." Then he looked over his shoulder and realized the kid wasn't alone; he had a whole gang with him. So Mark handed over his phone and the kid ran off. I never let him live down the fact that an eight-year-old had mugged him.
I had my own incident as well, but I handled it a little differently. I got off the train at Herne Hill station and noticed that two guys were following me. I could hear their footsteps getting closer and closer. "Give us your backpack," they threatened me.
"Why? All I have is my homework in here," I tried to reason with them. They had seen me on the train with my minidisc player and they knew I was holding out on them. "Give it," they threatened.
My bag was covered with key chains and buttons, and as I took it off my shoulder, pretending to give it to them, I swung it hard in their faces. All that hardware knocked one of them to the ground and stunned the other. With my bag in my hand, I ran the mile home without ever ~ Derek Hough

It's amazing the relationships you forge in a kitchen. When you cooperate in an environment that's hot. Where there's a lot of knives. You're trusting your well-being with someone you've never before met or known. ~ Alexandra Guarnaschelli

Hot water is my native element. I was in it as a baby, and I have never seemed to get out of it ever since. ~ Edith Sitwell

The world was full of dangers now that she was pregnant: mercury in tuna, hot tubs, beer, secondhand smoke, over-the-counter medicine. Not to mention crazy baby-abducting fairy kings. ~ Jennifer McMahon

Shhh, no more talking Em, Ethan whispered. ~ Christy Pastore

Nowadays men cannot love seven night but they must have all their desires: that love may not endure by reason; for where they be soon accorded and hasty, heat soon it cooleth. Right so fareth love nowadays, soon hot soon cold: this is no stability. But the old love was not so. ~ Thomas Malory

I'm thinking we ought to rethink the whole self-esteem thing. It should almost be a dirty word. I mean, look at Kayla. She has the intelligence of a tree stump, and its sense of humour. She's less about real attractiveness than she is about advertising ... She's the kind of girl who shows how hot she is because she has nothing else to offer, who doesn't realise that hotness has an expiration date. Yet, I'm still a little nervous talking to her like she's holding a lottery ticket she just might or might not decide to hand over to me. It is nuts, if you stop to think about it. I give give her this power, and it's kind of like voting some idiot into office. But hey, we're good at that, too. ~ Deb Caletti

There is, then, a world immune from change. But I am not composed enough, standing on tiptoe on the verge of fire, still scorched by the hot breath, afraid of the door opening and the leap of the tiger, to make even one sentence. What I say is perpetually contradicted. Each time the door opens I am interrupted. I am not yet twenty-one. I am to be broken. I am to be derided all my life. I am to be cast up and down among these men and women, with their twitching faces, with their lying tongues, like a cork on a rough sea. Like a ribbon of weed I am flung far every time the door opens. I am the foam that sweeps and fills the uttermost rims of the rocks with whiteness; I am also a girl, here in this room. ~ Virginia Woolf

You're right. We do need to talk. In Private." Hudson's jaw ticked. It was hot, like a super-spicy dried meat stick from the 7-Eleven. ~ Helena Hunting

You like playing with bears?" A growl rumbled from his chest, vibrating her to the soul. This male is hot. "I like playing with you." "Careful what you ask for. ~ Lia Davis

Oh, stop talking," I cried, in a hunted tone. "I can't bear it. If you are going to arrest me, get it over."

"I'd rather NOT arrest you, if we can find a way out. You look so young, so new to Crime! Even your excuse for being here is so naive, that I - won't you tell me why you wrote a love letter, if you are not in love? And whom you sent it to? That's important, you see, as it bears on the case. I intend," he said, "to be judgdicial[sic], unimpassioned, and quite fair."

"I wrote a love letter" I explained, feeling rather cheered, "but it was not intended for any one, Do you see? It was just a love letter."

"Oh," he said. "Of course. It is often done. And after that?"

"Well, it had to go somewhere. At least I felt that way about it. So I made up a name from some malted milk tablets - - "

"Malted milk tablets!" he said, looking bewildered.

"Just as I was thinking up a name to send it to," I explained, "Hannah - that's mother's maid, you know - brought in some hot milk and some malted milk tablets, and I took the name from them."

"Look here," he said, "I'm unpredjudiced and quite calm, but isn't the `mother's maid' rather piling it on?"

"Hannah is mother's maid, and she brought in the milk and the tablets, I should think," I said, growing sarcastic, "that so far it is clear to the dullest mind."

"Go on," he said, leaning back and closing his eyes. "You named the letter ~ Mary Roberts Rinehart

The guest thought long and hard and then said, with deliberation: Hot water, good dentishtry and shoft lavatory paper. ~ Terry Pratchett

What if I can't find it? What if I can't find that particular pumping-station? The breath tore in and out of his lungs, hot and bloody-tasting in the back of his throat. A stitch was sinking into his side. His buttocks sang where the rock had hit him. Beverly had said Henry and his friends meant to kill them, and Ben believed it now, yes he did. He came to ~ Stephen King

Anna was, Livia is, Plurabelle's to be. Northmen's thing made southfolk's place but howmulty plurators made eachone in per-son? Latin me that, my trinity scholard, out of eure sanscreed into
oure eryan! Hircus Civis Eblanensis! He had buckgoat paps on him, soft ones for orphans. Ho, Lord! Twins of his bosom. Lord save us! And ho! Hey? What all men. Hot? His tittering daugh-ters of. Whawk?
Can't hear with the waters of. The chittering waters of. Flitter-ing bats, fieldmice bawk talk. Ho! Are you not gone ahome?
What Thom Malone? Can't hear with bawk of bats, all thim liffey-ing waters of. Ho, talk save us! My foos won't moos. I feel as old as yonder elm. A tale told of Shaun or Shem? All Livia's daughter-
sons. Dark hawks hear us. Night! Night! My ho head halls. I feel as heavy as yonder stone. Tell me of John or Shaun? Who wereShem and Shaun the living sons or daughters of? Night now!
Tell me, tell me, tell me, elm! Night night! Telmetale of stem or stone. Beside the rivering waters of, hitherandthithering waters of. Night! ~ James Joyce

It is very, very hard to do that ballroom dancing and I am going to be nowhere near it. Now if you have a hot dog eating contest, call me. ~ Daymond John

You know most of the food that Americans hold so dear - things like hamburgers and hot dogs - were road food, but even before they were road food, they were peasant food. ~ Alton Brown

There was something special about a carnival at night. Bright lights pierced the darkness; the tinkling music of the merry-go-round provided the perfect background for the shrill calls of the carnival workers; the giggles of the people aiming fake rifles at fake ducks were full of contagious fun; the distant shrieks coming from the roller coaster and the top of the Ferris wheel filled the air; and a warm breeze carried the tantalizing aromas of cotton candy and hot buttered popcorn. ~ Marilyn Kaye

What I do is try to stay away from the hot subjects. ~ Jerry Bruckheimer

Poems 1959-2009_

I turn into the man they photograph.
I think I'll ask him for his autograph.
He's older than I am and more distinguished.
The beauty of the boy has been extinguished.
He smiles a lot and then not.
Hauteur is the new hot.
He tilts his nose up and looks imperious.
He wants to make sure he looks serious.
He smiles at the photographer but not
The camera. He thinks cold is the look that's hot.
You know the poems. It's an experience.
The way that Shylock is a Shakespearience.
A Jew found frozen on the mountain at the howling summit,
Immortally preserved singing to the dying planet from it. ~ Frederick Seidel

This was a little house, with a ceiling that kept getting higher and higher, a hot place with no windows. This was anger. ~ Helen Oyeyemi

Life is easy when you're hot. But what happens when the ball bounces the other way? You just keep getting back up and climbing up. ~ Bill Walton

A movie playing on the TV screen in front of us. Some sort of bad Tom Cruise drama. I've never liked Tom Cruise. He always reminded me of someone's creepy cousin, who smiles too big before he touches your butt and whispers something gross in your ear with hot whiskey breath. ~ Erin McCarthy

Unlike the hot line frequently depicted in Hollywood films, the new system didn't provide a special telephone for the president to use in an emergency. It relied on Teletype machines that could send text quickly and securely. Written statements were considered easier to translate, more deliberate, and less subject to misinterpretation than verbal ones. Every ~ Eric Schlosser

Some of the world's best athletes didn't start out being that hot. If you have a passion for a sport, put in the effort and see. ~ Carol S. Dweck

Why is your face all red, Celia? You hot or something?"

"Liam," Koda growled. Go put on some clothes."

Liam spoke between chews. "Why it's warm in here."

"Because the girls weren't raised among beings that are frequently naked."

Understanding spread across Liam's boyish features. He shook his head. "Celia, you have to get over your modesty. The body is a gift. Here, take off your clothes so you can see how freeing--"

I threw my spatula in the sink. "Go upstairs, Liam. And don't come back down until you put on some damn pants! ~ Cecy Robson

Reading for me, was like breathing. It was probably akin to masturbation for my brain. Getting off on the fantasy within the pages of a good novel felt necessary to my survival. If I wasn't asleep, knitting, or working, I was reading. This was for several reasons, all of them focused around the infititely superior and enviable lives of fictional heroines to real-life people.
Take romans for instance. Fictional women in romance novels never get their period. They never have morning breath. They orgasm seventeen times a day. And they never seem to have jobs with bosses.
These clean, well-satisfied, perm-minty-breathed women have fulfilling careers as florists, bakery owners, hair stylists or some other kind of adorable small business where they decorate all day. If they do have a boss, he's a cool guy (or gal) who's invested in the woman's love life. Or, he's a super hot billionaire trying to get in her pants.
My boss cares about two things: Am I on time ? Are all my patients alive and well at the end of my shift?
And the mend in the romance novels are too good to be true; but I love it, and I love them. Enter stage right the independently wealthy venture capitalist suffering from the ennui of perfection until a plucky interior decorator enters stage left and shakes up his life and his heart with perky catch phrases and a cute nose that wrinkles when she sneezes.
I suck at decorating. The walls of my apartment are bare. I am allergic to most sto ~ Penny Reid

Run everything on a generator," Haskel said. "Got to keep it a certain temperature for the stuff I carry. Not too cold. Not too hot. There's shit in here, weather got wrong, it'd go off and blow our asses all the way to Mineola. Maybe out in the goddamned Gulf."
"I don't like to travel that far unless I got plane tickets and a steward in my lap," Leonard said.
Haskel cut an eye toward Leonard. "You mean stewardess, don't you?"
"I don't think so," Leonard said, and let Haskel churn that one over. ~ Joe R. Lansdale

Hiking is sort of like strip poker: by the end, all the participants are hot, sweaty, and nearly naked, and the winner is the person who wore the most layers. ~ Winona Dimeo-Ediger

Funny sky,' he said, squinting up at the thick-bellied white clouds and the sun shining so hot on them but not breaking through.
'It feels as if there should be a storm,' I said 'but it was like this at haymaking and the weather never properly broke then.'
'If I was at sea I should run for a port,' Ralph said. He was looking towards the horizon where there was a yellow tinge to the sky over the top of the downs. ~ Philippa Gregory

You really have the nerve to stand there and ask me that?" When he didn't respond, I practically growled as I took a step towards him. "You blow so hot and cold with me that I'm not sure which way is up. It's a wonder I don't need a chiropractor from your emotional whiplash. One minute you're telling me you want a girl like me to be interested in you and the next you're coyly asking how I feel about Garrett." Finally toe to toe, I glared up at him. "You're really good at charming the panties off girls at ten paces, but you can't even tell a girl how you really feel when she's up close and personal! ~ Katie Ashley

I was full of a hot, powerful sadness and would have loved to burst into the comfort of tears, but tried hard not to, remembering something my Guru once said
that you should never give yourself a chance to fall apart because, when you do, it becomes a tendency and it happens over and over again. You must practice staying strong, instead. ~ Elizabeth Gilbert

Like LeBron James, we already know how good the man is. We know he can play. He's rich. But he still want a ring. N!ggas know my music hot. That's proven. Now its time to get the ring. ~ Yo Gotti

Now this greatest tent staled out hot raw breaths of earth, confetti that was ancient when the canals of Venice were not yet staked, and wafts of pink cotton candy like tired feather boas. In rushing downfalls, the tent shed skin; grieved, soughed as flesh fell away until at last the tall museum timbers at the spine of the discarded monster dropped with three canon roars. ~ Ray Bradbury

Make it quick," I said when I picked up.
"Okay. Two men from the FBI are here." Cookie said. Quickly.
Crap. "Men in black are at the office?"
"Well, yes, but they're actually in more of a navy."
Crapola. I so don't have time for men. In any color. "Okay, two questions. Do they look mad, and are they hot?"
After a long, long, pause, Cookie said, "One, not really. Two, no comment at this time. And three, you're on speakerphone."
After another long, long pause, I said, "Okie dokie then. Be there in a jiff. ~ Darynda Jones

In terms of jobs, I'm an actor. There's gotta' be depth there. I'd never say yes to something just to play the hot guy. That's not what I'm interested in. ~ Bill Skarsgard

Hot tea," he said, holding the cups. "It's just wrong. ~ Maureen Johnson

I think it's creepy if a guy says, I would never hit a girl. Cause that should go without saying. That's like if you ever heard a guy go, I would never crap in a hot tub. ~ Bonnie McFarlane

There is a Rainbow Bridge. It's like dog heaven. We run and play and never get fat. The sun is always warm but not hot, the water is fresh and cold, and we get to just be dogs. We all take turns waiting. The bridge is a beautiful wooden structure that crosses over from dog land to the other side when our owners come. Time means nothing to us, which is hard for humans to understand. ~ Jennifer Probst

He'd gone too far. He didn't usually talk to women so frankly. Not with them both fully clothed anyway. ~ Amy Andrews

Little Cinder

Girl, they can't understand you.
You rise from the as-heap in a blaze
and only then do they recognize you
as their one true love.

While you pray beneath your mother's
tree you carrve a phoenix into your palm
wth aa hazel twig and coal;
every night she devours more of you.

You used to believe in angels.
Now you believe in the makeover;
if you can't get the grime off your face
and your foot into a size six heel

who will ever bother to notice you?
The kettle and the broom sear in your grasp,
snap into fragments. The turtledoves sing,
"There's blood within the shoe."

You deserve the palace, you think, as you signal
the pigeons to attack, approve the barrel filled with red-hot nails.
Its great hearth beckons, and the prince's flag
rises crimson in the angry sun.

He will love you for the heat you generate,
for the flames you ignite around you,
though he encase your tiny feet in glass
to keep them from scorching the ground. ~ Jeannine Hall Gailey

I like the hot-cold, the sugar-salt, being able to play over-the-top and dramatic things - in the same film. Just as in my life, I can be very funny and at other times almost extinguished. ~ Jean Dujardin

On an exceptionally hot evening early in July a young man came out of the garret in which he lodged in S. Place and walked slowly, as though in hesitation, towards K. bridge. ~ Fyodor Dostoyevsky

nothing like a hot bath in a cold world ~ Charles Bukowski

Later, at the sink in our van, Mama rinsed the blue stain and the odd spiders, caterpillars, and stems from the bucket.
"Not what we usually start with, but we can go again tomorrow. And this will set up nicely in about six, eight jars."
The berries were beginning to simmer in the big pot on the back burner. Mama pushed her dark wooden spoon into the foaming berries and cicrcled the wall of the pot slowly.
I leaned my hot arms on the table and said, "Iphy better not go tomorrow. She got tired today." I was smelling the berries and Mamaa's sweat, and watching the flex of the blue veins behind her knees.
"Does them good. The twins always loved picking berries, even more than eating them. Though Elly likes her jam."
"Elly doesn't like anything anymore."
The knees stiffened and I looked up. The spoon was motionless. Mama stared at the pot.
"Mama, Elly isn't there anymore. Iphy's changed. Everything's changed. This whole berry business, cooking big meals that nobody comes for, birthday cakes for Arty. It's dumb, Mama. Stop pretending. There isn't any family anymore, Mama."
Then she cracked me with the big spoon. It smacked wet and hard across my ear, and the purple-black juice spayed across the table. She started at me, terrified, her mouth and eyes gaping with fear. I stared gaping at her. I broke and ran.
I went to the generator truck and climbed up to sit by Grandpa. That's the only time Mama ever hit me and I knew I deserve ~ Katherine Dunn

Don't let the case from 1995 fool you. Early Bil Gates Beige is just a color. Many wonders lurk therein."

"Many wonders?"

"A fast-as-hell processor. Shit-tons of memory. A hard drive that could crack nuts. And best of all, for our purposes, some very expensive audio editing software that I did not pay for."

"Ah. And the rest of this stuff--over here on the bookcase?"

"External drives. A CD burner. Extra parts. And that thing on the end that looks like a little hot plate is a mug-warmer my grandmother gave me for Christmas. So that's not part of FrankenHal. ~ Cherie Priest

Politics will always mean more to the poor. Always. That's why we strike and march, and despair when our young say they won't vote. That's why the poor are seen as more vital, and animalistic. No classical music for us - no walking around National Trust properties or buying reclaimed flooring. We don't have nostalgia. We don't do yesterday. We can't bear it. We don't want to be reminded of our past, because it was awful: dying in mines and slums without literacy or the vote. Without dignity. It was all so desperate then. That's why the present and the future is for the poor - that's the place in time for us: surviving now, hoping for better later. We live now - for our own instant hot, fast treats, to pep us up: sugar, a cigarette, a new fast song on the radio. ~ Caitlin Moran

She always had a headache, or it was too hot, always, or she pretended to be asleep, or she had her period again, her period, always her period. So much so that Dr. Urbino had dared to say in class, only for the relief of unburdening himself without confession, that after ten years of marriage women had their periods as often as threes times a week. ~ Gabriel Garcia Marquez

Every relationship will suffer to some degree without finding self-acceptance and treating yourself like your own best friend. ~ L.K. Elliott

To catch the ball, face up, look at all of my options and then pass. I was playing hot potato. I didn't want to be the guy to stall the triangle. ~ Karl Malone

THTL - too hot to live ~ Rachel Caine

But Mark was come of the glittering towns
Where hot white details show,
Where man can number and expound,
And his faith grew in a hard ground
Of doubt and reason and falsehood found,
Where no faith else could grow.
Belief that grew of all beliefs
One moment back was blown
And belief that stood on unbelief
Stood up iron and alone. ~ G.K. Chesterton

The Pastor had spent his boyhood in the old country and was not at all sure that hot water, stall showers and the like were necessary to salvation. In fact it was one of his notions that Americans were too clean. Rub all the natural protective oils off their skins, they do for a fact. ~ Budd Schulberg

Here is a good joke. The little boy walks into an ice cream store, He asks for a sundae with extra hot fudge sauce. 'I'm sorry." says tje ice cream man. "Hot fudge only comes in one temperature." Mark, Florida ~ Susan Magsamen

Can you just imagine the two of them next year at the Phi Delta Carnation Ball?" Laura Grace asks, clapping her hands together.
Daddy looks confused. "The two of who?"
"Why, Ryder and Jemma, of course." Mama pats him on the hand. "You remember the Carnation Ball--it's the first Phi Delta party of the year. They have to go together, right, Laura Grace?"
She nods. "We've been waiting all our lives for this."
Mama finally glances my way and sees my scowl. "Aw, honey. We're just teasing, that's all."
This sort of teasing has been going on my entire life--second verse, same as the first. It's gotten real old, real fast.
"May I be excused?" I ask, pushing back from the table.
"You go on and finish your dinner," Laura Grace says, entirely unperturbed. "We'll stop teasing. I promise."
"It's okay. I'm done. It was delicious, thanks. I just need to get some air, that's all. I'm getting a bit of a headache."
Laura Grace nods. "It's this heat--way too hot for September." She waves a hand in my direction. "Go on, then. Ryder, why don't you go get Jemma some aspirin or something."
I glance over at Ryder, and our eyes meet. I shake my head, hoping he gets the message. "No, it's fine. I'm…uh…I've got some in my purse."
"Go with her, son," Mr. Marsden prods. "Be a gentleman, and get her a bottle of water to take outside with her."
Ugh. I give up. My escape plot is now ruined.
Wordlessly, Ryder rises from the table and stalks out ~ Kristi Cook

Khaled's mouth was hard and perfect on hers, hot and wild. ~ Caitlin Crews

This place is just too frickin precious," the cop said, eyeing a guy dressed in a hot pink leisure suit with makeup to match. "Give me rednecks and home-grown beer any day of the week over this X-culture bullshit. ~ J.R. Ward

And here I thought they were called Peeping Toms." I didn't need to see him to know he wore a smile.
"Stop laughing," I said, my cheeks hot with humiliation. "Get me down."
"Jump."
"What?"
"I'll catch you."
"Are you crazy? Go inside and open the window. Or get a ladder."
"I don't need a ladder. Jump. I'm not going to drop you. ~ Becca Fitzpatrick

And now of a sudden my illusion vanished. What was my body to me? A kind of flunkey in my service. Let my anger wax hot, my love grow exalted, my hatred collect in me, and the boasted solidarity between me and my body was gone.

Your son is in a burning house. Nobody can hold you back. You may burn up, but what do you think of that? You are ready to bequeath the rags of your body to any man who will take them. You discover that what you set so much store by is trash. You would sell your hand, if need be, to give a hand to a friend. It is in your act that you exist, not in your body. Your act is yourself, and there is no other you. Your body belongs to you: it is not you. Are you about to strike an enemy? No threat of bodily harm can hold you back. You? It is the death of your enemy that is you. You? It is the rescue of your child that is you. In that moment you exchange yourself against something else; and you have no feeling tat you lost by the exchange. Your members? Tools. A tool snaps in your hand: how important is that tool? You exchange yourself against the death of your enemy, the rescue of your child, the recovery of your patient, the perfection of your theorem...Your true significance becomes dazzlingly evident. Your true name is duty, hatred, love, child, theorem. There is no other you than this. ~ Antoine De Saint Exupery

I often think, that she foresaw only the end times, never hot dogs. ~ Karen Russell

McCain said the lower gas prices were sitting somewhere under the Gulf of Mexico. Obama said they were sitting in the bank accounts of companies like Exxon in the form of windfall profits to be taxed.

The formula was the same formula we see in every election: Republicans demonize government, sixties-style activism, and foreigners. Democrats demonize corporations, greed, and the right-wing rabble.

Both candidates were selling the public a storyline that had nothing to do with the truth. Gas prices were going up for reasons completely unconnected to the causes these candidates were talking about. What really happened was that Wall Street had opened a new table in its casino. The new gaming table was called commodity index investing. And when it became the hottest new game in town, America suddenly got a very painful lesson in the glorious possibilities of taxation without representation. Wall Street turned gas prices into a gaming table, and when they hit a hot streak we ended up making exorbitant involuntary payments for a commodity that one simply cannot live without. ~ Matt Taibbi

Damn it," I muttered.
"What?" asked Adrian.
"I hate when you're the sane one. That's my job."
"Rose," he said, forcibly trying to keep a serious tone, "I can think of many words to describe you, sexy and hot being at the top of the list. You know what's not on the list? Sane. ~ Richelle Mead

Sometimes to imagine that you are having fuck with a sexy girl or a hot girl or with a girl which you want to have. It's useless it won't happen, and you can't do anything! ~ Deyth Banger

Yeah, you like that? You like it when Big Papa gives you his hot and juicy wiener?" I pant, my hips hammering against her. Her fists yank my hair, pulling my head away from her neck so hard that I see stars. "Ow! What the fuck?" I complain as she gives me a dirty look. "You cannot say shit like that when we're fucking. You Just can't," she warns me, letting out a low groan when I shift my hips and grind my pubic bone against her clit.
"What's wrong with a little dirty talk? I thought you'd like it." "I like dirty talk. I LOVE dirty talk. What you're doing is not dirty talk. It's 'weird as fuck' talk. Repeat after me: I love fucking you, your pussy is so tight," Ava demands. (Well, damn, that was hot. I kind of wish I had a vagina right now). ~ Tara Sivec

That's a cold-blooded way to view the world," said Runajo.

"And the way of the Sisters isn't?"

"Blood is hot when you spill it," said Runajo, and Juliet laughed suddenly, her head tilting back. ~ Rosamund Hodge

A little blue-eyed blonde in a red hot sweater, wants to spice my chili, I think I'll let her. ~ Toby Keith

This girl was so hot, that even if one of your friends slept with her, you would have ended up gloating about it yourself for him. ~ Jimmy Tudeski

Nella had the sudden flash of seeing Rio, in his leather leggings, kneeling with thighs spread, his hands behind him, his brawny wrists encircled by wide cuffs with a chain between them.
Rio's gaze locked to hers, his eyes nearly filling with blue, as though he knew what was in her head.
Then she noticed Rees. He'd stilled, his irises also widening. His large hand moved to cup Talan's waist and pull her toward him. The tunic couldn't hide the fact that his cock was stiffening and lengthening.
"Better stop whatever you are imagining," Dr. Laas said to Nella, amusement in her voice. "You have two Shareem males erect and randy in front of you, and you're only wearing a sheet. Who knows what the consequences will be?"
"Can they read my mind?" Nella asked in surprise.
"No," Rees said, his voice rumbling and low. "Your pheromones."
"They pour over us like water, sweetheart," Rio said. "When your body is craving us, we get all hot and bothered. We can't help it." He moved to her. "Later, I'll make you tell me what you were thinking about."
Bad idea. A very bad idea.
Talan seemed the only one able to take the situation in stride. She broke away from Rees and came to Nella. "You poor dear. I imagine you are quite confused. Come and sit." She glanced at Rio. "Couldn't you find her any clothes?"
Rio shrugged. "I like her the way she is. ~ Allyson James

A kiss, he said, is a conversation. Easing closer, he continued to speak as he caressed her cheeks with featherlight stokes of his thumbs.
"A first kiss", his lips neared hers, is an introduction and then his mouth brushed against hers. The contact sparked, sharp and bright like lightning, yet his lips were soft, unexpectedly so. Her breath caught the same instant his did.
Against her mouth he whispered "That was Hello" His breath mingled with hers as he waited, his lips so close she could feel their warmth. For a moment she simply breathed him in growing heady on the scent of him and the tight anticipation gathering in her belly. Then she understood. Nerves fluttering, she brushed her lips across his as he had done. Again his breath hitched, as if he too felt that same spark, that hot need. Her eyes drifted closed and his voice poured over her like warm cream.
"This is, 'I'm Jack'. ~ Kristen Callihan

In the garden where the lilacs were so tall it was impossible to see the road. The leaves were dusty, the way they always were in August when the weather turned hot. ~ Alice Hoffman

Dale's father edited an English-language newspaper in Bombay and Dale always shouted "Aiee!" when he was in pain. It had amazed me greatly when I first heard him stubbing his toe against the foot of the bed in the dormitory, since I had never imagined that expressions of pain could vary. I had thought "Ouch!" and "Ow!" were the same all over the world. I had suffered a hot and bothered exchange in my first French lesson, for example, when I was told that the French for "Oh!" was "Ah!"
"Then how do they say 'Oh,' sir?"
"They say 'Ah.'"
"Well then, how do they say 'Ah'?"
"Don't be stupid, Fry."
I had sulked for the rest of the lesson. ~ Stephen Fry

Stopping just short of her mouth, he rasped, "Are you still engaged to Blakeborough?"
Her gorgeous eyes narrowed. "My engagement didn't stop you last night."
"It would now."
A coy smile broke over her lips, and she tightened her grip on his neck. "Then I suppose it's a good thing I am not."
With a growl of triumph, he kissed her once more. She was here. She was his. Nothing else mattered.
Still kissing her, he jerked both sets of curtains closed. Then he tugged her onto his lap and began to tear at the fastenings of her pelisse-dress. He wanted to touch her, taste her…be inside her. He could think of naught else.
"I take it that you mean to seduce me," she murmured between kisses.
"Yes." Seduce her and marry her. And then seduce her again, as often as he could.
"Well then, carry on."
So he did. He unfastened her clothes just enough to bare her breasts, then seized one in his mouth. God, she was perfect. His perfect jewel.
She buried her hands in his hair to pull her into him, sighing and moaning as if she would die if he didn't make love to her. Which was exactly how he felt.
Working his hand up beneath her skirts and into the slit in her drawers, he found her so wet and hot that he nearly came right there. He slipped a finger inside her silky sweetness, and she gasped, then began to tug at his trouser buttons.
"You're all I want, Jane." As he stroked her, he used his other hand to brush hers away so he could unfaste ~ Sabrina Jeffries

Eric pressed himself against me, a long hot line of sweat and flesh. There was a roll of his hips against mine and I said, "Wow." He laughed. The ~ T.J. Klune

Here, rancid air hangs heavily in a void, its texture thick, liquid, clinging, in a night full of the hot smells of decay. ~ Robert Dunbar

On Neil's right shoulder was a burn scar, courtesy of getting smacked by a hot iron. Andrew put his left hand to it, fingertips lining up perfectly with the raised bumps the iron's holes had left behind. His right thumb found the puckered flesh from a bullet. ~ Nora Sakavic

Dude. Hot Bozo. Best nickname ever. ~ Cynthia Hand

So coming back from a journey, or after an illness, before habits had spun themselves across the surface, one felt that same unreality, which was so startling; felt something emerge. Life was most vivid then. One could be at one's ease. Mercifully one need not say, very briskly, crossing the lawn to great old Mrs. Beckwith, who would be coming out to find a corner to sit in, "Oh, good-morning, Mrs. Beckwith! What a lovely day! Are you going to be so bold as to sit in the sun? Jasper's hidden the chairs. Do let me find you one!" and all the rest of the usual chatter. One need not speak at all. One glided, one shook one's sails (there was a good deal of movement in the bay, boats were starting off) between things, beyond things. Empty it was not, but full to the brim. She seemed to be standing up to the lips in some substance, to move and float and sink in it, yes, for these waters were unfathomably deep. Into them had spilled so many lives. The Ramsays'; the children's; and all sorts of waifs and strays of things besides. A washerwoman with her basket; a rook; a red-hot poker; the purples and grey-greens of flowers: some common feeling held the whole. ~ Virginia Woolf

What destiny is there, but to sense, observe, merge, re-emerge,
Empty, yet filled, spreading everywhere, inside, outside, in,
Pulsing, fluctuating, breathing as part of one being,
Whispering, feeling, reflecting, flowing between hot and cold,
Mineral and plant, dark and light, love and fear, new and old. ~ Jay Woodman

While some male "admirers" of trans women tend to fetishize us for our femininity or our imagined sexual submissiveness, I find trans women hot because we are anything but docile or demure. In order to survive as a trans woman, you must be, by definition, impervious, unflinching, and tenacious. In a culture in which femaleness and femininity are on the receiving end of a seemingly endless smear campaign, there is no act more brave - especially for someone assigned a male sex at birth - than embracing one's femme self.

And unlike those male tranny-chasers who say that they like "T-girls" because we are supposedly "the best of both worlds", I am attracted to trans women because we are all woman! My femaleness is so intense that it has overpowered the trillions of lameass Y chromosomes that sheepishly hide inside the cells of my body. And my femininity is so relentless that it has survived over thirty years of male socialisation and twenty years of testosterone poisoning. Some kinky-identified thrill-seekers may envision trans women as androgyne fuck fantasies, but that's only because they are too self-absorbed to appreciate how completely fucking female we are. ~ Julia Serano

Imagine," Tyler said, "stalking elk past department store windows and stinking racks of beautiful rotting dresses and tuxedos on hangers; you'll wear leather clothes that will last you the rest of your life, and you'll climb the wrist-thick kudzu vines that wrap the Sears Tower. Jack and the beanstalk, you'll climb up through the dripping forest canopy and the air will be so clean you'll see tiny figures pounding corn and laying strips of venison to dry in the empty car pool lane of an abandoned superhighway stretching eight-lanes-wide and August-hot for a thousand miles. ~ Chuck Palahniuk

Is what I am not saying, young LaMont Chu, is why you cease to seem to give total effort of self since you begin with the clipping pictures of great professional figures for your adhesive tape and walls. No? Because, privileged gentlemen and boys I am saying, is always something that is too. Cold. Hot. Wet and dry. Very bright sun and you see the purple dots. Very bright hot and you have no salt. Outside is wind, the insects which like the sweat. Inside is smell of heaters, echo, being jammed in together, tarp is overclose to baseline, not enough of room, bells inside clubs which ring the hour loudly to distract, clunk of machines vomiting sweet cola for coins. Inside roof too low for the lob. Bad lighting, so. Or outside: the bad surface. Oh no look no: crabgrass in cracks along baseline. Who could give the total, with crabgrass. Look here is low net high net. Opponent's relatives heckle, opponent cheats, linesman in semifinal is impaired or cheats. You hurt. You have the injury. Bad knee and back. Hurt groin area from not stretching as asked. Aches of elbow. Eyelash in eye. The throat is sore. A too pretty girl in audience, watching. Who could play like this? Big crowd overwhelming or too small to inspire. Always something.' [p.458] ~ David Foster Wallace

You read yourself full, you pray yourself hot, and then you turn yourself loose. ~ Timothy B. Tyson