Instone For Nails Quotes

Tall, over six foot, ripped, and with sandy-blond hair that was just a bit too long, tats running down both arms to his elbows, cheekbones you could file your nails on, and lips that were just perfect for biting. ~ Jane Harvey-Berrick

The bragging was the worst. I hear this in schools all over the country, in cafés and restaurants, in bars, on the Internet, for Pete's sake, on buses, on sidewalks: Women yammering about how little they eat. Oh, I'm Starving, I haven't eaten all day, I think I'll have a great big piece of lettuce, I'm not hungry, I don't like to eat in the morning (in the afternoon, in the evening, on Tuesdays, when my nails aren't painted, when my shin hurts, when it's raining, when it's sunny, on national holidays, after or before 2 A.M.). I heard it in the hospital, that terrible ironic whine from the chapped lips of women starving to death, But I'm not hun-greeee. To hear women tell it, we're never hungry. We live on little Ms. Pac-Man power pellets. Food makes us queasy, food makes us itchy, food is too messy, all I really like to eat is celery. To hear women tell it we're ethereal beings who eat with the greatest distaste, scraping scraps of food between our teeth with our upper lips curled.

For your edification, it's bullshit. ~ Marya Hornbacher

She had this dark cancer water dripping out of her chest. Eyes closed. Intubated. But her hand was still her hand, still warm and the nails painted this almost black dark blue and I just held her hand and tried to imagine the world without us and for about one second I was a good enough person to hope she died so she would never know that I was going, too. But then I wanted more time so we could fall in love. I got my wish, I suppose. I left my scar. ~ John Green

Aunt Ester: He didn't care if anybody else knew if he did or not. He knew. He didn't do it for the people standing around watching. He did it for himself. He say I'd rather die in truth than to live a lie. That way he can say that his life is worth more than a bucket of nails. What is your life worth, Mr. Citizen? That what you got to find out. You got to find a way to live in truth. If you live right you die right. ~ August Wilson

You need to face, you need to confront, and really properly look at what's happening, and not try and explain it away or give it justifications or anything, because at this juncture, we still, by our finger nails, have the chance to make a difference, and turn this around. And to not take part and to just watch ... ... .., but if you don't push back, if you don't face it and confront it for what it is, it'll just takeover, and then no one will be free. ~ Vivian Kubrick

Two things I do for maintenance: I get a manicure once a month, and I see my therapist about every six weeks. I am happy to report that, at this point, my nails crack more often than I do. ~ Gina Barreca

Let a man take time enough for the most trivial deed, though it be but the paring of his nails. The buds swell imperceptibly, without hurry or confusion,
as if the short spring days were an eternity. ~ Henry David Thoreau

I'm going to die. I'm going to die. I'm going to die-
No.
Heather took a deep breath and tried to think about something else. Anything else.
Like ponies.
Ponies were a happy thought. They were nice and gentle and they never kidnapped people or strapped them to cold warehouse pillars.
Ponies, ponies, ponies-
"Tie him up by the girl and for God's sake don't kill him!" Clare's - er, Raven's - voice was like nails on a chalkboard as it floated into Heather's ears.
Any attempts to think of ponies came to an abrupt halt. ~ Chelsea Fine

Feed, Jacques. I offer my life freely to you as you have so many times done for me."
Mikhail slashed his wrist and held it out to his brother.
The moment the richness spilled into his mouth, the taste and surge of power brought a rush of memories. Mikhail laughing, pushing Jacques from a tree branch playfully. Mikhail's body crouched low, protectively, in front of his as a vampire with brown-stained teeth began to grow long, dagger-like nails. Mikhail holding Raven's limp body, a river of blood, the earth and sky erupting all around them while Mikhail looked up at Jacques with the hopeless resolve to join his lifemate in her fate.
Jacques' eyes jumped to Mikhail's face, examined every inch of it. This man was a leader, a dangerous, powerful predator who had skillfully steered their dying race through centuries of pitfalls. One whom such as Gregori chose to follow. Something stirred inside Jacques, the need to protect this man, to shield him. Mikhail.
Mikhail's head jerked up. He heard his name echo clearly in his head. The path had been there for one heartbeat, familiar and strong; then just as quickly it was lost. ~ Christine Feehan

In that day an educated rich man was acceptable. He might send his sons to college without comment, might wear a vest and white shirt and tie in the daytime of a weekday, might wear gloves and keep his nails clean. And since the lives and practices of rich men were mysterious, who knows what they could use or not use? But a poor man––what need had he for poetry or for painting or for music not fit for singing or dancing? ~ John Steinbeck

The canvases which Mr. St. Jones referred to with a paintbrush that was long and slightly bowed: for the most part interiors, or undergrounds, of pocked and craggy holes, rock vaults with mossy floors and slimy walls, or narrow scenic vistas that skinny silver streams squirmed through like sidewinders flipped on their backs, beneath downward grasping tentacles of roots, stalactites dagger-sharp and dangling by threads of stone, stalagmites teetering, all doused, frozen in molten electric white that suggested what a glimpse of hell might be, too beautiful, some still lifes too, great bulbous beets, hoary legumes, giant scallions, white carrots, tomatoes, berries, squash in huge radiant bowls, and portraits, signed by Ionia, of shadows, from which gleamed eyes and teeth and nails and, here and there, a glowing bubble, or scrotum, caught the eye. Near the door a counter clacked but rather quietly. ~ Douglas Woolf

What is a priest doing being a doctor geology?" said Du Pre.

Father Van Den Heuvel turned back from his diggings.

"The Catholic Church," he said, "favors education as the only way to fight off good ideas. They have gotten good at it, having been fighting off good ideas for the last millenium and a half, and they don't learn. ~ Peter Bowen, Nails

I felt that I did not really remember her except through the pain, and I longed for the nails that riveted her to my consciousness to be driven yet deeper. ~ Marcel Proust

I want to clear my mind a little bit and give my mind a little bit of time to breathe so I can pinpoint or at least nail down feelings I'm having and that I've had for the last however long. I need to nail them down long enough to actually write about and elaborate on them. ~ Fred Durst

A ghost doesn't just move normally. They have this freaky way of zipping across the room. You see the ghost, you blink, and then it's suddenly behind you or up in your face and you scream and dig your nails into your boyfriend's knee and the he has marks there for like a week and I hope you're putting out for all that goddamn pain you put him through when you were the one who picked the movie even when you knew it was going to be scary. ~ Dennis Liggio

After another second had passed I added, "But you're pretty, pretty," and as soon as I said it I thought, "Pretty, pretty? John, you're an idiot." But she squeezed my hand and when I looked at her I saw her entire lovely face was aglow with a wonderful smile, the kind of smile you get when you have won something.
"Why do you rub your fingers together all the time?" she asked me, and I felt the breath leave my body and gasped for air. She had seen me do my crazy finger thing, my affliction. I clenched my teeth while I searched for a long, exaggerated lie to tell her about why I did what I did. I didn't want to be the crazy kid with tics, I wanted to be James Bond 007, so slick ice avoided me.
"It's okay," she said. "I bite my nails, see?" and she showed me the backs of her hands. Her finger nails were painted a color I later learned was puce.
"My Dad, he blinks all the time, he doesn't know why either," she continued. She looked down her feet and said, "I shouldn't have asked you that. I'm really nervous and I say stupid things when I'm nervous. I'm a girl and this is my first date, and for girls this really is a very big deal."
I understood completely. I was so nervous I couldn't feel my toes, so I started moving them up and down to make sure they were still there.
"It's all right," I said. "I don't know why I do that with my fingers; it's a thing I do."
"Well, you're really cute when you do it," she said.
"I know," I said, and I do ~ John William Tuohy

Save your wack rhymes, hold your female.
Pass the Old Gold, trash the ale.
Cash your food stamps, get the WIC out the mail.
Love to eat shrimps, but I never eat snail,
Eat a whole fish except for the tail.
Keep food in the fridge so it don't get stale,
And when there's nothing to eat ... I bite my nails. ~ Big Daddy Kane

When I do fall in love, I'll go to the ends of the earth for that person. I'd lay down on a carpet of nails for the person I love. ~ Peter Andre

I could never myself believe in God, if it were not for the cross. The only God I believe in is the One Nietzsche ridiculed as 'God on the cross.' In the real world of pain, how could one worship a God who was immune to it? I have entered many Buddhist temples in different Asian countries and stood respectfully before the statue of the Buddha, his legs crossed, arms folded, eyes closed, the ghost of a smile playing round his mouth, a remote look on his face, detached from the agonies of the world. But each time after a while I have had to turn away. And in imagination I have turned instead to that lonely, twisted, tortured figure on the cross, nails through hands and feet, back lacerated, limbs wrenched, brow bleeding from thorn-pricks, mouth dry and intolerably thirsty, plunged in Godforsaken darkness. That is the God for me! He laid aside his immunity to pain. He entered our world of flesh and blood, tears and death. He suffered for us. Our sufferings become more manageable in the light of his. There is still a question mark against human suffering, but over it we boldly stamp another mark, the cross that symbolizes divine suffering. 'The cross of Christ ... is God's only self-justification in such a world" as ours....' 'The other gods were strong; but thou wast weak; they rode, but thou didst stumble to a throne; But to our wounds only God's wounds can speak, And not a god has wounds, but thou alone. ~ John R.W. Stott

Say you want me." His mouth moved over her throat, closed over her aching breast. Every strong pull sent an answering rush of liquid heat.
"You know I do." She pressed him to her, wound a leg around his.
She could barely breathe with her need, clawing at him to get closer, to crawl inside the shelter of his body, his mind, to feel his body in hers, taking possession as he was meant to, to feel his mouth at her breast, dragging her further into his world.
"All of it," he said hoarsely, his fingers probing the nest of tiny curls, stroking, caressing. "Mate with me my way."
She moved in a kind of anguish against his hand. "Yes, Mikhail." She was frantic for release, frantic to relieve him. She was consumed with the same red haze, not separating love from lust or hunger from need. She was on fire, hurting, aching, body and mind, even her soul in torment, not knowing where his wild, uninhibited emotions left off and hers began.
Mikhail lifted her easily with his enormous strength, slid her slowly, erotically down his clenching belly until she was pressed against the broad head of his raging erection. Her heat seared him, beckoned. Raven's arms slid around his neck, her legs around his hips, opening for him. Slowly he lowered her body over his, impaled her on the thick length of fire so that she surrounded him with such a moist, tight sheath he shuddered, somewhere beyond mere pleasure, a kind of erotic heaven and hell.
Her nails dug into his shoulders ~ Christine Feehan

Shut one eye then the other
Peek into every corner of yourself
See that there are no nails no thieves
See that there are no cuckoo's eggs

Shut then the other eye
Squat and jump
Jump high high high
On top of yourself

Fall then with all your weight
Fall for days on end deep deep deep
To the bottom of your abyss

Who doesn't break into pieces
Who remains whole gets up whole
Plays ~ Vasko Popa

I want to kiss you right here. Against the bar. On my lap. I want to know if the memory of our kiss is as good as I remember it. If your sharp nails digging into my shoulders feel as good as they did then. But for now I will leave that decision up to you. ~ V. Theia

You see flaws in every face
If you look long enough.

That's why I'm so afraid
Of the word 'forever'.

Forever is long enough
For sunrises to become stale
For fire to become tame
For a favorite song
To become like nails
On a chalkboard;

Forever is long enough
For passion to waste away
Like grapes into raisins
Under the beating sun
Of countless days. ~ Justin Wetch

I take these vitamins that make my hair grow like crazy. They're called Herpanacine, and I get them on Amazon - they've got echinacea and vitamins A and E. They're really good for your immune system, too. You don't get sick, and they really help your skin, hair, and nails. ~ Kacy Hill

The attractiveness of a woman to a man is based in limitation and immobilization.

Feeders like women so fat, they can't move, and depend on him for the simplest things.

Men like women who are young, or have low self-esteem, so he can convince her she is lucky someone gave her the privilege of being acknowledged or used for sex.

Men like; high heels, so she can't run. Tight clothes, so she can't move. Youth, so she doesn't know better. Hair, artificial nails, and make-up, to prevent her from doing basic enjoyable things.

And this is what they call, "femininity". The entire concept is rooted in misogyny and control. ~ Sasha Scarr

I can't stop biting my nails. It's a bad habit of mine. I like anything to do with math and numbers. I know a lot of people don't like geometry, but for me it's fun. ~ Khleo

Today you are thirteen weeks old and already controversial. You should know that the mention of the name Pablo is alarming to a very few, highly insignificant people. From this palsied paction there is occasionally the slightest pause, and then, 'Oh, really. Pablo.' Then with a small, self-depreciating chuckle, they might tilt their heads playfully and say something like 'Aren't you afraid people will think he's Mexican?'
... I find it amusing when they balk at Pablo, as though we were naming you Jesus H. Christ and jamming our nails into your hands. They seem to feel your name is up for general discussion, like naming a local bridge or a stray cat.
Hmmm. Mr. Whiskers? I don't like Mr. Whiskers. I like the name Blackie.'
Aren't you afraid people will think he's black? ~ Suzanne Finnamore

This whole acting thing was always just for me and was always an absolute shot in the dark. If it didn't pan out, I had my hammer and tool belt, banging nails again tomorrow if I had to. ~ Matt LeBlanc

Eight to ten loaves came to the house every day, and they never grew dry. We tore them to pieces with their crusts still warm, and their monotony was brightened by the objects we found in them – string, nails, paper, and once a mouse; for those were days of happy-go-lucky baking. ~ Laurie Lee

...The man who stood before her was taller and stranger than anyone she had ever encountered. His unkempt hair was a long dark brown, partially braided and twisted around twigs, the tips of his pointed ears poking between strands. His bare chest made her flush, but it was completely covered in green inked tattoos. Leather breeches creaked when he shifted. He held his hand out to her, uncurling fingers with long nails. "Aislin," he repeated, his voice gruff and purring, "do not be frightened. I have been waiting so long for you. ~ Lori J. Fitzgerald

A strange thing - nails will hold a building together, but there's nothing better for taking a man apart. ~ Mark Lawrence

The Divine was expansive, but religion was reductive. Religion attempted to reduce the Divine to a knowable quantity with which mortals might efficiently deal, to pigeonhole it once and for all so that we never had to reevaluate it. With hammers of cant and spikes of dogma, we crucified and crucified again, trying to nail to our stationary altars the migratory light of the world. ~ Tom Robbins

Tell you what," A.J. offered. "I've got some errands to run today. We'll hijack the truck and pick up a new one together."
"You askin' me on a date?" Chester asked wolfishly.
"I suppose I am."
"You buyin' or am I?"
"If you're talking about the wheelbarrow, I am," Devlin interjected.
"But what about food? If it's a date, ya need food."
"Probably not a lot of that at the local hardware store," A.J. said with a grin. "Considering your days of eating nails are over with."
"Well, I'll pay for lunch if we go to the Pick a' the Chicken."
"Okay, but you should know, I don't kiss on the first date."
"Neither do I. ~ J.R. Ward