Lashes Quotes

He was beautiful.
Whatever else he was, Sage was by far the most magnetic man I had ever seen. I had felt it in my dreams, and it was even more true in real life. I welcomed the chance to study him without his knowledge.
He glanced up, and I quickly closed my eyes, feigning sleep. Had he seen me? The scratching stopped. He was looking at me, I knew it. I held my breath and willed my eyes not to pop open and see if he was staring.
Finally the scratching started up again. I forced myself to slowly count to ten before I opened my eyelids the tiniest bit and peeked through my lashes.
Good-he wasn't looking at me.
I opened my eyes a little wider. What was he doing? Moving only my eyes, I glanced down at the dirt floor in front of him…
…and saw a picture of me, fast asleep.
It was incredible. I could see his tools laid out beside the picture: rocks in several sizes and shapes, a couple of twigs…the most rudimentary materials, and yet what he was etching into the floor wouldn't look out of place on an art gallery wall. It was beautiful…far more beautiful than I thought I actually looked in my sleep. Is that how he saw me?
Sage lifted his head again, and I shut my eyes. I imagined him studying me, taking careful note of my features and filtering them through his own senses. My heartbeat quickened, and it took all my willpower to remain still.
"You can keep pretending to be asleep if you'd like, but I don't see a career for you as an actres ~ Hilary Duff

He took her hand in his, caressed her palm with his finger."Duin an doras," he whispered hoarsely, feverishly."Fuirichidh mise."
Close the door. I'll stay.
Ellie flushed dark, her lashes fluttered shut. "I ... I don't know what you say," she murmured.
Liam dropped her hand, gently laid his at the base of her bare neck. Her skin was soft and warm against his callused palm, and he whispered in her ear,"I know." He moved his head; his lips whisked across hers, shimmering like a whisper of silk.
He breathed her in once more, made himself remove his hand from her heated flesh. ~ Julia London

You are playing with fire, ma petite." The words were nearly unable to escape his strangled throat.
She glanced up at him, just once. A quick look from under the crescent of her long lashes. Teasing. Sexy. His innocent erotic. "I thought I was playing with you," she denied, her attention back on his fierce arousal. Her warm breath bathed him in heat, in temptation.
He threw back his head, his hands tightening in her thick mane of hair. His neck was arched, his eyes closed. "I think it is fair to say it is the same thing," he bit out between clenched teeth. ~ Christine Feehan

At the bat of your lashes peacocks preen. Peacocks preen, elephants remember, camels go for days without water, and dinosaurs of all types become extinct. ~ Tom Robbins

The way you wield your power is about using it to afford you opportunities that you wouldn't otherwise have. So I'm very creatively ambitious, and I just hope people notice it; that's all I want. ~ Bat For Lashes

Now That I Am in Madrid I Can Think "

I think of you
and the continents brilliant and arid
and the slender heart you are sharing my share of with the American air
as the lungs I have felt sonorously subside slowly greet each morning
and your brown lashes flutter revealing two perfect dawns colored by New York

see a vast bridge stetching to the humbled outskirts with only you
Standing on the edge of the purple like an only tree
and in Toledo the olive groves' soft blue look at the hills with silver
like glasses like an old ladies hair
It's well known that God and I don't get along together
It's just a view of the brass works for me, I don't care about the Moors
seen through you the great works of death, you are greater

you are smiling, you are emptying the world so we can be alone together. ~ Frank O'Hara

One does not lash hat lies at a distance. The foibles that we ridicule must at least be a little bit our own. Only then will the work be a part of our own flesh. The garden must be weeded. ~ Paul Klee

Salem"

In salem seasick spindrift drifts or skips
to the canvas flapping on the seaward panes
until the knitting sailor stabs at ships
nosing like sheep of Morpheus through his brain's
asylum. Seaman, seaman, how the draft
lashes the oily slick about your head,
beating up whitecaps! Seaman, Charon's raft
dumps its damned goods into the harbor-bed,--
There sewage sickens the rebellious seas.
Remember, seaman, Salem fisherman
Once hung their nimble fleets on the Great Banks.
Where was it that New England bred the men
who quartered the Leviathan's fat flanks
and fought the British Lion to his knees? ~ Robert Lowell

The wild splash of red that was her hair tumbled over the vivid green of the bedspread. Shadows from the candle shifted over her face, reminding him of the impression he'd first had of her-the Gypsy-open fires,weeping violins. Her eyes were dark, pure gray,and waiting.
"We MacGregors," he murmured, "have ways of ... dealing with Campbells."
His mouth lowered but paused a whisper from hers.He saw that her lids had fluttered down yet hadn't closed. She watched him through her lashes while her breath came quickly.Slowly he shifted his head to nibble along her jawline. ~ Nora Roberts

So it happened at last: I was about to become a thief, a cheap milk-stealer. Here was your lash-in-the-pen genius, your one story-writer: a thief. ~ John Fante

This twinned twinkle was delightful but not completely satisfying; or rather it only sharpened my appetite for other tidbits of light and shade, and I walked on in a state of raw awareness that seemed to transform the whole of my being into one big eyeball rolling in the world's socket.

Through peacocked lashes I saw the dazzling diamond reflection of the low sun on the round back of a parked automobile. To all kinds of things a vivid pictorial sense had been restored by the sponge of the thaw. Water in overlapping festoons flowed down one sloping street and turned gracefully into another. With ever so slight a note of meretricious appeal, narrow passages between buildings revealed treasures of brick and purple. I remarked for the first time the humble fluting - last echoes of grooves on the shafts of columns - ornamenting a garbage can, and I also saw the rippling upon its lid - circles diverging from a fantastically ancient center. Erect, dark-headed shapes of dead snow (left by the blades of a bulldozer last Friday) were lined up like rudimentary penguins along the curbs, above the brilliant vibration of live gutters.

I walked up, and I walked down, and I walked straight into a delicately dying sky, and finally the sequence of observed and observant things brought me, at my usual eating time, to a street so distant from my usual eating place that I decided to try a restaurant which stood on the fringe of the town. Night had fallen without sound or ce ~ Vladimir Nabokov

If you ask all the cells
in my body,
they only answer your name.
Follicles push the hair upwards
so they may brush
against your skin.
Nails grow faster as well.
Lungs breathe rapidly
in hopes of inhaling your scent.
Toes curl to smile and
knees form dimples when you are near.
Brain fireworks.
Stomach fills with flies of butter
and swallows, and
swans swoon.
Cattle, rhinos, and walruses too -
there's a stampede when you are near.
I love you from the bottom of my liver
to the tip of my lashes.
One wink from you and heart stops,
like a sneeze. Bless you.
I cannot even begin to tell you
what happens to soul,
for soul is off
flying with its mate. ~ Kamand Kojouri

He was so conspicuously, irrefutably good-looking, it was silly; it made you want to laugh. With his long legs and his broad shoulders, and the flatness of his belly where his shirt tucked into his trousers, and those dark eyes with the thick black lashes, he looked like a god compared to other Pagford men, who were so slack and pallid and porky. ~ J.K. Rowling

Experience is a keen teacher; and long before you had mastered your A B C, or knew where the "white sails" of the Chesapeake were bound, you began, I see, to gauge the wretchedness of the slave, not by his hunger and want, not by his lashes and toil, but by the cruel and blighting death which gathers over his soul. ~ Frederick Douglass

They had been married for three days.
Lauren stirred, moving closer to him for warmth. Careful not to disturb her, he drew the satin quilt up around her shoulders. Reverently he touched her cheek, tracing its elegant curve. Lauren had brought joy to his life and laughter to his home.She thought he was beautiful. When she looked at him, he felt beautiful.
Somewhere in another part of the big house a clock began chiming the hour of midnight. Lauren's lashes slowly flickered open, and he looked into her enchanting blue eyes. "It's Christmas," he whispered.
His wife smiled up at him, and her answer made his throat tighten. "No," she said softly, laying her fingers against his jaw. "Christmas came three days ago. ~ Judith McNaught

Her eyes, walnut brown and shaded by fanned lashes, met mine. Held for a moment. Flew away. ~ Khaled Hosseini

You know this is wrong."

It isn't a question. When he turns, White is still wrapped snug in the counterpane, motionless, just his gaze pursuing the doctor about the room. "I am wrong to do this." The doctor says it as if instructing himself. White says nothing. With a sigh, Archer sits on the edge of the bed, smoothing White's curls back from his forehead. "Do you know what we did last night?" To admit it, to speak out loud, seems in itself a terrible affront. It might be his imagination, but the doctor fancies he sees a slight lowering of black lashes, the tiniest quirk of a shy smile. He says, wearily but not without affection, "No, I don't suppose you do. ~ John T. Fuller

We dance. Sweet, downcast, through-the-lashes-glances bely every beating she got at thirteen, every lash of the tongue from her dad at fourteen, every heroin high that let her out for awhile, every hour and day she had to be tough.

She is so natural and soft. Her shoulders are down, hips loose and swinging as we close together. I swear I'm growing chest hair just looking at her. I've been a boy in public before, but I've never seen her like this. That's it exactly; I haven't seen her at all, except in glimpses, in half-confessional role-play sex. And here she is - pressed tight against my chest, hips grinding against my crotch to the bass bump of the music. Her thigh along mine is electric heaven. Two drag queens cannot decide whether we are breeders or in drag. I stroke my mascara-made mustache at them - but none of it matters with hands in suede and the way she smiles. ~ Various

Edie Sedgwick (1943-1971)

I don't know how she did it. Fire
She was shaking all over. It took
her hours to put her make-up on.
But she did it. Even the false eye-lashes.
She ordered gin with triple
limes. Then a limosine. Everyone
knew she was the real heroine of
Blonde on Blonde.
oh it isn't fair
oh it isn't fair
how her ermine hair
turned men around
she was white on white
so blonde on blonde
and her long long legs
how I used to beg
to dance with her
but I never had
a chance with her
oh it isn't fair
how her ermine hair
used to swing so nice
used to cut the air
how all the men
used to dance with her
I never got a chance with her
though I really asked her
down deep
where you do
really dream
in the mind
reading love
I'd get
inside
her move
and we'd
turn around
and she'd
turn around
and turn the head
of everyone in town
her shaking shaking
glittering bones
second blonde child
after brian jones
oh it isn't fair

how I dreamed of her
and she slept
and she slept
forever
and I'll never dance
with her no never
she broke down
like a baby
like a baby girl
like a lady
with ermine hair
oh it isn't fair
and I'd like to see
her rise again
her white white bones
with baby bri ~ Patti Smith

And then those dusky lashes fluttered up, revealing a lambent gleam of jungle green.
His hands circled her waist and she slowly flexed his hips, a wholly male sound of satisfaction escaping him when her eyes fluttered shut and she gasped.
And then a small, secret, feminine smile appeared on her lips and Chase's control snapped like a power line in a high wind.
Wrapping her in his arms, he began to pump into her in a slow, relentless rhythm that was both too much and not enough. ~ Caroline Cross

Drifting snowflakes brushed her face as light as lover's kisses, and melted on her cheeks. At the center of the garden, beside the statue of the weeping woman that lay broken and half-buried on the ground, she turned her face up to the sky and closed her eyes. She could feel the snow on her lashes, taste it on her lips. It was the taste of Winterfell. The taste of innocence. The taste of dreams. ~ George R R Martin

Teresina went often to confession. She was the despair of Father Ramon. Indeed he had seen that while her knees, her hands, and her lips did penance for an old sin, her modest and provocative eyes, flashing under drawn lashes, laid the foundation for a new one. During ~ John Steinbeck

For the first time, she studied Nick's face. Lowered eyelids hid his beautiful green eyes, making his long lashes stand out against his cheeks. He had the kind of fair skin that freckled and then tanned only after repeated days in the sun. His jaw rested on the violin. Without his hat, she noted his prominent cheekbones. The bump on his nose gave his face character, and she wondered how he'd broken it. ~ Debra Holland

How...how do you feel about me?"
"I think it's pretty obvious."
"Let's just say I need a detailed account."
His lashes lifted and his eyes met mine. "I can do that for you."
"Okay." I leaned toward him.
"I never once stopped thinking about you when you were taken away. Four years. All I could hope was that you were in a good place. Never expected you to walk into school. Didn't even allow myself to dream about that. And then you did, and seeing you blew me away. You were just like I remembered, but different. The hints of the girl I saw in you when we were younger were now right in front of me. The moment you said my name - the moment you hugged me I knew." Rider reached between us, folding his hand around mine. "I knew I'd fall in love with you and I did. I love you, Mallory."
My lips parted on an inhale. "What?"
"I love you, and not the kind of love we had for each other when we were younger, you know? Paige knows that. So does Hector. So did Jayden. I love you. ~ Jennifer L. Armentrout

When I use electronic beats and program things, there's something quite brain about that - you're feeling it in your body but it's like a puzzle you wanna solve, and it gets very detailed. I really enjoy that side of music. ~ Bat For Lashes

What is this, master - the third time I've broken you out of a jail cell?"

Nathaniel coughed. "Minor misunderstandings, on both previous occasions," he assured Elisabeth.

(....) He spoke mildly, his lashes shading his eyes. "At least you're wearing clothes this time, master."

"I'll have you know," Nathaniel said, "that that was an accident, and the public certainly didn't mind. One woman even sent me flowers." To Elisabeth, he added, "Don't worry. She was forty years old, and her name was Mildred. ~ Margaret Rogerson

Four eyes full of gleams and radiance beneath their lashes, filling the looking-glass. Questions shooting out and then hiding again. I don't know: Gleams and radiance, gleaming from you to me, from me to you, and from me to you alone - into the mirror and out again, and never an answer about what this is, never an explanation. ~ Tarjei Vesaas

I need him as much as he needs me. But that doesn't make it love. Winter lowered her lashes Actually dear friend, I suspect that is precisely what makes it love. ~ Marissa Meyer

She's here, Diana. Our little Tabby is here. Safe and sound."
Diana lifted her lashes and looked up at Colby. He was on his knees between her legs, holding his daughter in
Brandon's denim jacket. In the glare of the flashlight Brandon held, she could see the brilliant expression of triumph
and happiness in her husband's eyes.
"I love you, Diana."
"I love you, Colby." Diana relaxed. This time, she thought, Colby wasn't just practicing.
This time he meant it. ~ Jayne Ann Krentz

I don't know if I can do this anymore," Jack's husky voice muttered sounding defeated. It was such a strange sound coming out of him.
"I know what you mean."
"I'm not sure I want to break up with Kate though."
That snapped her right out of her own pity party. Break up with Kate! Holy shit! "Uh, Jack?"
He tilted his head to look at her under his thick dark lashes. "Yes, my dear?"
"You've been thinking of breaking up with Kate?" She couldn't keep the disbelief out of her voice.
He nodded choking on his own words. "Ever since I saw you like a vision on the beach the first day you got here."
"Wh ... Why would you do that?" She knew the answer. But she wanted to hear him say it.
"I thought that was quite obvious ... for you. ~ K.A. Linde

I've gotten used to using individual lashes as well. A lot of girls will use strip eyelashes, but the glue comes out of each side and it gets messy. Individual lashes make your eyes look bigger and much more natural. ~ Katherine Webb

When I finished touring 'Fur and Gold,' I was just like, 'What am I doing? What do I have? Where is my home?' I didn't really know where it was, so I went to New York to try and make it there. ~ Bat For Lashes

What do you want most in life, Miss Willow?"

"For my mother to be well."

"Imagine you had that." His fingers rested on the nape of her neck. "What do you want for yourself?"

"Peace on earth?"

"Come, Miss Willow. I want a serious answer from you. Better yet, a selfish one." Though she stood inches from him, she seemed not to notice their proximity. As a grown man, he could control his base urges. He'd done so for years. He would do better by her than his father and brothers. Slowly, he lifted his fingers from the back of her neck. His palm took their place.

Head tilted, she considered him. "You'll laugh."

"Try me."

"A family. Children."

"What? Not thousands of pounds at your disposal? A mansion? Jewels to dazzle you? Servants at your beck and call?"

She rested the side of her head against the doorway and looked at him from beneath her thick red lashes. "I always thought I'd be married one day with half a dozen children at my knees." Her eyes danced again, and for a moment, the space of a breath, he was caught like a fly in a web. "I was right about the children at least, though I was sure they'd be mine."

"Are you sorry?" What soft skin she had, such a tender nape.

"That I'm not a wife and mother?"

"Mm." He imagined her with a husband, with children. His children. He saw her gravid by his doing, and him cradling an infant in his arms, the one he'd ~ Carolyn Jewel

Kami glanced over at Angela. Angela lay serenely with her hands folded across her chest and her lashes like black lace against her white cheeks. "You look so sweet when you sleep," Kami said. "Like an emo ten-year-old's first Vampire Bride Barbie. Pull the string on the back and she says cruel things to her hardworking friends. ~ Sarah Rees Brennan

Job is an optimist. He shakes the pillars of the world and strikes insanely at the heavens; he lashes the stars, but it is not to silence them; it is to make them speak. ~ G.K. Chesterton

A small hand slaps him. He opens his eyes for a moment. Against the glow of the sky, dark hair flutters in the breeze. Intense eyes fringed with long lashes. Lips so red the girl must have been biting them. It takes him a moment to realize she's the Daughter of Man who risked herself to help him. She's asking him something. Her voice is insistent but melodic. It's a good sound to die to. ~ Susan Ee

As she trembled and laughed and blotted her eyes with her gloved fingers, Nick took her into his arms and tried to soothe her. "Easy ... Easy ... ," he whispered, while his hands moved gently over her shoulders and back. "Take a deep breath. Hush, everything's all right." The warm brand of his mouth pressed against her forehead, her wet lashes, her cheeks. "You're safe, Lottie. You're mine, my wife, and I'll take care of you. You're safe. ~ Lisa Kleypas

Logan?'
'Yes?' I pulled my clothes back on even though the fabric stuck to my wounds. So much for trying to keep them clean.
'How did you know it wasn't really me?'
'Are you kidding? Your eyeballs could be on fire and you wouldn't bat your lashes at me like that. ~ Alyxandra Harvey

He loved me, but I also think he was infatuated with somebody in me I wasn't so crazy about. If Nate was the one who saw Kate Pierson underneath my grubby disaffect when we met, David tried to strip away all of Kate's lovely lashes and wigs and iridescent outfits to reveal what he was confident was the mousy, wide-eyed ragamuffin little girl that he wanted to love me as, and who he wanted me to be. ~ Julie Klausner

Everyone knows I'm a lash girl by now. When I don't have my lashes, I feel naked. ~ Nicki Minaj

Dad was an amazing storyteller and illustrator, which he did in his spare time - very inspiring and dramatic. ~ Bat For Lashes

A heavenly female with long, russet tresses that drifted over her right shoulder in undulating waves stepped toward him. A bright blue ribbon held her unruly mass of hair. She wore a light blue, snugly fitted shirt that matched the ribbon. It clung to full breasts tapering to a narrow waist. Skin like polished stone with a light kiss from the sun gleamed in the gathering light. Large, round, azure eyes the shade of sea shoals under a noonday summer sun and blanketed with thick lashes assessed him and left him speechless. ~ Aleigha Siron

Hold on to me!" Tedros yelled, hacking briars with his training sword.Dazed, Agatha clung to his chest as he withstood thorn lashes with moans of pain. Soon he had the upper hand and pulled Agatha from the Woods towards the spiked gates, which glowed in recognition and pulled apart, cleaving a narrow path for the two Evers. As the gates speared shut behind them,Agatha looked up at limping Tedros, crisscrossed with bloody scratches, blue shirt shredded away.
"Had a feeling Sophie was getting in through the Woods," he panted, hauling her up into slashed arms before she could protest. "So Professor Dovey gave me permission to take some fairies and stakeout the outer gates. Should have known you'd be here trying to catch her yourself."
Agatha gaped at him dumbly.
"Stupid idea for a princess to take on witches alone," Tedros said, dripping sweat on her pink dress.
"Where is she?" Agatha croaked. "Is she safe?"
"Not a good idea for princesses to worry about witches either," Tedros said, hands gripping her waist. Her stomach exploded with butterflies.
"Put me down," she sputtered -
"More bad ideas from the princess."
"Put me down!"Tedros obeyed and Agatha pulled away.
"I'm not a princess!" she snapped, fixing her collar.
"If you say so," the prince said, eyes drifting downward.Agatha followed them to her gashed legs, waterfalls of brilliant blood. She saw blood blurring - Tedros smiled.
"One . . . two . . . three . . ."She f ~ Soman Chainani

One touch from you ... ," water coated his lips, gathered in thick drops on his dark lashes, "makes me feel more than a whole goddamned orgy. ~ Aleksandr Voinov

He shouldn't be captivated by the sight of a tear caught on her lashes, or her perfect nose, slightly pink. Those lips were even more intriguing, so he made himself look away, staring out at the forest beyond the gazebo.
He glanced down to find Ellice still looking up at him, her eyes liquid pools of chocolate.
Their gaze caught and held, the seconds ticking by in solemn regularity. He felt drawn to her like a magnet. Pulling away would be a difficult task.
He must for his own safety. This woman with her guileless eyes, soft heart, and lurid imagination was a danger. ~ Karen Ranney

She felt him bow his head to rest his jaw on her hair, the touch feather light. Tears beaded in her lashes ~ C.L. Wilson

I don't think music is the first thing I turn to. For me, I think visual art is more the thing. Sometimes when I've been doing music for a while, I can't really take any more in. ~ Bat For Lashes

See, girls have it easy. Smile and bat you lashes and we're defenseless. ~ Nyrae Dawn

The horse was a pure-bred Arab. She came, bright and dancing, flaunting into the ring, her tail held high over her quarters, her silken mane flowing over the crest of her neck. Her head was fine-boned and delicate, with the concave line of the true Arab horse. Her dark, lustrous eyes were fringed with long lashes and the nostrils wrinkling her velvet muzzle were huge black pits. She moved around the ring like a bright flame, her pricked ears delicate as flower petals. Her legs were clean and unblemished and her small hooves were polished ivory. After the dull ache of the rosinbacks, she was all light and fire.
Jinny sat entranced, hardly breathing, and then her breath burst out of her in a throbbing gasp. She loved the chestnut mare. As if all their long day's travelling had only been for this. As if she had come all the way from Stopton only for this, to see this sudden gift of perfection. ~ Patricia Leitch

...he raised a hand to touch my face, a touch of promise, warm and sure, and as I struggled to smile back at him he kissed me. It felt so very right, so beautiful; tears pricked behind my lashes as life flowed through all my hollow limbs, and I lost all sense of place and time. It might have been a minute or an hour... ~ Susanna Kearsley

A girl and a boy, sitting lazily cross-legged under a pale green willow, picking at the grass. She is lying with her head in his lap, long red hair fanned against his knee. Her skin is not my unnatural red but like honeyed cream. She grins up at him, his eyes the color of an evergreen forest, of dragonfly wings, his corn-gold, too-long hair falling over his forehead. And she laughs. When she does her back, her throat arches slightly, and he blushes. He smells of wheat fields and fallen autumn apples soft against the earth, and it is a smell she knows like her own. Under the filmy reed-curtain of the old willow tree, they hold hands and talk quietly, shoes discarded like peach pits. The sun is low in the sky, warm and orange-gold on their young faces, their strong white smiles and freshly washed hair. The light spills onto their shoulders like water from a well. There are sharp-smelling rosemary branches braided into her hair, with their little blue blossoms, and the oil is on their brown fingers. The boy whispers something in the girl's ear, and she closes her eyes, lashes smoking cheekbones like bundles of sage. ~ Catherynne M. Valente

He placed our stuff on the table and then sat, straddling the bench. Patting the spot next to him, he grinned.
I dropped my bag on the tan pavers and as I swung a leg over the bench, I stopped to look at him. He was watching me through thick lashes, head still tilted, grinning so that lone dimple was begging to be touched. I realized that this was the first moment Rider and I had been alone. No prying eyes. No adults watching over us. No one walking past us as there had been in the parking lot yesterday. We were alone, just him and me, like it had been so many times in the past.
I don't know why I did what I did next, but a decade of emotion swirled up inside me. Maybe it had to do with everything he'd done for me in the past. Maybe it was just because he was sitting right there and we were in the present.
And I never felt more present than I did in that moment.
Bending over, I wrapped my arms around his wide shoulders and I squeezed him. Probably the lamest hug in history, but it felt good. It felt magnificent when he rose up a little and circled his arms around my waist. His hug was better.
When I pulled back, his hands slid off my waist, to my hips, and lingered for a moment. A strange sensation curled low in my stomach. He let go, but the heated awareness remained. "What was that for?"
Shrugging, I sat, tucking both legs under the table. My face was hot. "I...I just wanted to."
"Well, you can do that whenever you want to. I don't mind. ~ Jennifer L. Armentrout

There was something so alluring about him, with the light scruff he had growing on his face, the thick dark lashes that were too pretty to belong to any man, and the way his biceps bulged under the t-shirt. ~ Emma Nichols

Does it hurt here?" he asked, his fingers slipping over the swollen entrance of her sex.
"A little." She leaned back against his arm, her head lolling on the polished wooden rim of the huge porcelain bathtub.
Nick kneaded lightly with his fingertips, as if he could heal her with his touch. "I tried to be gentle."
"You were," she managed to say, her thighs floating apart.
Nick's thick lashes lowered as he stared at the shimmering blur of her body beneath the water. His handsome features were carved with such severity that his face could have been molded from bronze. The edge of his rolled-up sleeve dragged in the water, the velvet turning hot and sodden.
"I won't ever hurt you again," he said. "That's a promise. ~ Lisa Kleypas

Aidan from the past: He took her hands in his bloodied, callused ones. "Accept me?" His eyes glowed, his lashes spiked from rain.
Declan in the present: He gripped her nape. "I fuckin love you, Regin!" Rain spiked his lashes as he gazed down at her, commanding her, "Love me back! ~ Kresley Cole

I had always been in love with him. I counted the lashes of each closed eye. He had been my almost, my might have been, and I did not want to leave him ~ Alice Sebold

I think there's a lot of shame in American race relations. There's a lot of suppressed guilt that lashes itself out still. I see that all the time, and whereas opposed to sort of trying to address the issue in an up-front way, they're attacking and thus perpetuating the problem thinking that they're being sophisticated and post-racial, when, in fact, they're being completely regressive. ~ Danny Strong

When yet another woman old enough to be his grandmother headed Reyes off and demanded his attention before he could get to me, I giggled at the forced smile on his face. She flirted, batted her lashes, and patted his biceps about twelve times too many for his comfort. He took out his phone and typed as the woman spoke to him, her movements exaggerated. I couldn't be certain but I had a feeling she was talking to him about how she used to be a pole dancer until her hip gave out.

My phone chimed. I took it out of the delicate clutch that matched my dress and read Reyes's text.

Aren't you going to save me?

I don't know. I'm having a lot of fun right now. Wanna sext?

He crossed an arm over his chest while holding his phone. One corner of his mouth twitched as he leaned back against the tree and typed.

Absolutely.

Sweet. What are you wearing?

His eyes sparkled with mirth.

Animal print boxers and striped socks

I burst out laughing, gaining the attention of everyone around me. ~ Darynda Jones

There's a part of me that wishes I could go out in T-shirt and jeans, 'cause I really love Patti Smith, Cat Power, girls who look so casual; that appeals to me 'cause I guess it's the opposite from what I do. But I can never let myself just do that - I always have to try and dress up and create something. ~ Bat For Lashes

A drone is often preferred for missions that are too "dull, dirty, or dangerous" for manned aircraft."

PROLOGUE

The graffiti was in Spanish, neon colors highlighting the varicose cracks in the wall. It smelled of urine and pot. The front door was metal with four bolt locks and the windows were frosted glass, embedded with chicken wire. They swung out and up like big fake eye-lashes held up with a notched adjustment bar.

This was a factory building on the near west side of Cleveland in an industrial area on the Cuyahoga River known in Ohio as The Flats.

First a sweatshop garment factory, then a warehouse for imported cheeses then a crack den for teenage potheads. It was now headquarters for Magic Slim, the only pimp in Cleveland with his own film studio and training facility.

Her name was Cosita, she was eighteen looking like fourteen. One of nine children from El Chorillo. a dangerous poverty stricken barrio on the outskirts of Panama City. Her brother, Javier, had been snatched from the streets six months ago, he was thirteen and beautiful.

Cosita had a high school education but earned here degree on the streets of Panama.

Interpol, the world's largest international police organization, had recruited Cosita at seventeen. She was smart, street savvy, motivated and very pretty. Just what Interpol was looking for.

Cosita would become a Drone! ~ Nick Hahn

I'm wondering what it would be like to be kissed by you."
"Let's not go there," he said. "I don't want to mess up our friendship."
"It wouldn't," she said, grinning suddenly. "I'd like to know how it feels. I mean, as an experiment."
"Put the wrong chemicals together, and they explode."
She frowned. "Are you saying you don't think I'd like it? Or that I would?"
"It doesn't matter, because I'm not going to kiss you."
She looked up at him shyly, from beneath lowered lashes, and gave him a cajoling smile. "Just one teeny, weeny little kiss?"
He laughed at her antics. Inside his stomach, about a million butterflies had taken flight. "Don't play games with me, Summer." He said it with a smile, but it was a warning.
One she ignored.
She crooked her finger and wiggled it, gesturing him toward her. "Come here, and give me a little kiss."
She was doing something sultry with her eyes, something she'd never done before. She'd turned on some kind of feminine heat, because he was burning up just looking at her. "Stop this," he said in a guttural voice.
She canted her hip and put her hand on it, drawing his attention in that direction, then slid her tongue along the seam of her lips to wet them. "I'm ready, bad boy. What are you waiting for?"
His heart was beating a hundred miles a minute. He was hot and hard and ready. And if he touched her, he was going to ruin everything.
"I'm not going to kiss you, Summer."
He saw th ~ Joan Johnston

Here's some advice. Stay alive, says Haymitch, and then bursts out laughing. I exchange a look with Peeta before I remember that I'm having nothing more to do with him. I'm surprised to see the hardness in his eyes. He generally seems so mild.
'That's very funny,' says Peeta. Suddenly, he lashes out at the glass in Haymitch's hand. It shatters on the floor, sending the bloodred liquid running toward the back of the train. 'Only not to us.'
Haymitch considers this a moment, then punches Peeta in the jaw, knocking him from his chair. When he turns back to reach for the spirits, I drive my knife into the table between his hand and the bottle, barely missing his fingers. I brace myself to deflect his hit, but it doesn't come. Instead, he sits back and squints at us.
'Well, what's this?' says Haymitch. 'Did I actually get a pair of fighters this year? ~ Suzanne Collins

You will go there again. You will. I'm not about to pretend otherwise. It's all or nothing, Chris. All the dark, hated places you go, you go with me. You have to trust me enough to love that part of you as much as I do the rest." "You don't know what you're asking." "It's not a question. It's not even close to a request. This is how it has to be." His lashes lower; his struggle is palpable, and I soften instantly, hurting as he hurts. My fingers find his hair, stroking tenderly. "Let me love what you hate. Let me do that for you." He presses his cheek to mine, his whiskers a welcome rasp on my cheek. "God, woman. I can't lose you." I close my eyes and whisper, "I'm not going anywhere. ~ Lisa Renee Jones

The tenderness in his touch lashes out and scars my heart. ~ Colleen Hoover

But…but that's tragic! To go through life without color? Unable to appreciate art, or beauty?"
He laughed. "Now, sweet-hold your brush before you paint me a martyr's halo. It's not as though I'm blind. I have a great appreciation for art, as I believe we've discussed. And as for beauty…I don't need to know whether your eyes are blue or green or lavender to know that they're uncommonly lovely."
"No one has lavender eyes."
"Don't they?" His gaze caught hers and refused to let go. Leaning forward, he continued, "Did that tutor of yours ever tell you this? That your eyes are ringed with a perfect circle a few shades darker than the rest of the…don't they call it the iris?"
Sophia nodded.
"The iris." He propped his elbow on the table and leaned forward, his gaze searching hers intently. "An apt term it is, too. There are these lighter rays that fan out from the center, like petals. And when your pupils widen-like that, right there-your eyes are like two flowers just coming into bloom. Fresh. Innocent."
She bowed her head, mixing a touch of lead white into the sea-green paint on her palette. He leaned closer still, his voice a hypnotic whisper. "But when you take delight in teasing me, looking up through those thick lashes, so saucy and self-satisfied…" She gave him a sharp look.
He snapped his fingers. "There! Just like that. Oh, sweet-then those eyes are like two opera dancers smiling from behind big, feathered fans. Coy. Beckoning."
Sophia ~ Tessa Dare

Many a lash in the dark doth con science give the wicked. ~ Thomas Boston

Dimitri? She tried not to influence him. It was their decision together, not just hers. She knew he would listen with an open mind to her reasons and she wanted to be able to do the same for him.
His laughter was soft in her mind, filling her with an odd tingling sensation, with a small rush of heat. Skyler.
That was it. Her name. She sent him a look from under her lashes, one she usually reserved for Josef. Are you mocking me?
Teasing you. Just a little. We're getting the wolf pups. How could I possibly say no to a gift like that? You would never stop arguing with me.
Discussing. I was totally prepared to be reasonable and listen to you and then show you all the reasons you were absolutely wrong if you disagreed.
Dimitri burst out laughing. ~ Christine Feehan

You know, you can make a small mistake in language or etiquette in Britain, or you could when I was younger, and really be made to feel it, and it's the flick of a lash, but it would sting, and especially at school where there's not much privacy, and so on. You could, yes, undoubtedly be made to feel crushed. ~ Christopher Hitchens

The eyes she had wondered about turned out to be the most startling shade of blue-green she had even seen in her life. Ringed by raven lashes and a dark foreboding brow, they pierced her very soul. ~ Paula Quinn

In the music industry, intelligence in women is undervalued. ~ Bat For Lashes

My affections are one thing you won't be stealing." "A pity, that. A kiss then, Majesty, for your Gallant Knight?" he asked, looking up at her through his lashes in the manner that had devastated many a heart before hers. "Surely, you can grant me that. Or will such an act put you in irons once again? ~ Danelle Harmon

I understand that centuries of chains and lashes will not kill the spirit of man nor the sense of truth within him.

~Equality 7-2521 (as Prometheus), pg 98 ~ Ayn Rand

The divorce papers remained unopened in the crisp yellow envelope. He had thrown it on his desk without a backward glance. Between his lashes, his dark chocolate eyes burned with fury but there was something else in the depths that she hadn't seen in a long time, passion. ~ Suzan Battah

I live in a Moomin house in East London which I fill with blankets and nice crockery and get people round for dinner. When you travel a lot, you feel rootless and adrift - this is my sanctuary, where I can breathe out. ~ Bat For Lashes

I can't marry Tove!"
"Why ever not?" She batted her dark lashes at me.
"Because I don't love him!"
"Love is a fairy tale that manks tell their children so they'll have grandchildren," Elora said, brushing me off. ~ Amanda Hocking

In my rush, I hadn't tied my shoelaces. Noah was now tying them for me.
He looked up at me through his dark fringe of lashes and smiled. The expression on his face melted me completely. I knew I had the goofiest grin plastered on my lips, and didn't care.
"There," he said as he finished tying the laces on my left shoe. "Now you won't fall."
Too late. ~ Michelle Hodkin

If he lies pressed against me, he gently twines his legs about mine and our legs are merged by the very soft cloth of our pajamas; he then takes great pains to find the right spot to cuddle his cheek. So long as he is not sleeping, I feel the quivering of his eyelids and upturned lashes against the very sensitive skin of my neck. If he feels a tickling in his nostrils, his laziness and drowsiness keep him from lifting his hand, so that in order to scratch himself he rubs his nose against my beard, thus giving me delicate little taps with his head, like a young calf sucking its mother. ~ Jean Genet

When I was little, I grew up in a place called Hertfordshire, which is just near London, but out in the country, and I visited Pakistan in the summers to go and see my family on my dad's side. ~ Bat For Lashes

It is true. I did fall asleep at the wheel. We nearly went right off a cliff down into a gorge. But there were extenuating circumstances."
Ian snickered. "Are you going to pull out the cry-baby card? He had a little bitty wound he forgot to tell us about, that's how small it was. Ever since he fell asleep he's been trying to make us believe that contributed."
"It wasn't little. I have a scar. A knife fight." Sam was righteous about it.
"He barely nicked you," Ian sneered. "A tiny little slice that looked like a paper cut."
Sam extended his arm to Azami so she could see the evidence of the two-inch line of white marring his darker skin. "I bled profusely. I was weak and we hadn't slept in days."
"Profusely?" Ian echoed. "Ha! Two drops of blood is not profuse bleeding, Knight. We hadn't slept in days, that much is true, but the rest . . ." He trailed off, shaking his head and rolling his eyes at Azami.
Azami examined the barely there scar. The knife hadn't inflicted much damage, and Sam knew she'd seen evidence of much worse wounds. "Had you been drinking?" she asked, her eyes wide with innocence. Those long lashes fanned her cheeks as she gaze at him until his heart tripped all over itself.
Sam groaned. "Don't listen to him. I wasn't drinking, but once we were pretty much in the middle of a hurricane in the South Pacific on a rescue mission and Ian here decides he has to go into this bar . . ."
"Oh, no." Ian burst out laughing. "You're n ~ Christine Feehan

They met in the library searching for old Sidney Sheldon books. Her silence and calmness drew her to him. His brooding nature drew him to her. Conversations flowed like the waters of a water-fall! And every time they met their conversations sparked flames like the forest caught in a wild fire!

There was something in her eyes! Her eyes were expressive and from the first day that they met, they spoke to him a million things! He could know which night she had cried, which night she had slept peacefully and which night of hers had been spent in complete sleeplessness. He began reading her eyes more deeply and passionately than the books in the library...

And being an obsessive man, he did things normal men did not! Like he knew the number of strands of hair that her eye-lashes had! ~ Avijeet Das

Her face is a map of remembered trouble and absorbed guilt, The green eyes look broken, as if their glass has shattered. A motorway pile-up of wrecked mascara. Lashes jeweled with tears. ~ Glen Duncan

I like it when people make an effort to wear things that you wouldn't normally put together - I like eccentrics. ~ Bat For Lashes

He whispered her name as he pressed his forehead against hers. "So this is what love feels like." His fingers tightened possessively around the back of her neck, the pad of his thumb of his thumb caressing her soft skin.
Her lashes fluttered, eyes going a vibrant green. Her mouth curved into a soft smile. "You say the most beautiful things, Gavriil. You should have been a poet."
He brushed a kiss over each eye and slipped his gun into the waistband at the small of his back before straightening. "I'm a poet with a knife or gun."
-Gavriil & Lexi ~ Christine Feehan

There's no point in getting into politics at all unless you plan to lash things around. ~ Hunter S. Thompson

Her hair, the brightest shade of red he had ever seen, seemed to feed on the firelight, glowing with incandescent heat. The slender wings of her brows and the heavy fringe of her lashes were a darker shade of auburn, while her skin was that of a true redhead, fair and a bit freckled on the nose and cheeks. Sebastian was amused by the festive scattering of little gold flecks, sprinkled as if by the whim of a friendly fairy. She had unfashionably full lips that were colored a natural rose, and large, round blue eyes... pretty but emotionless eyes, like those of a wax doll. ~ Lisa Kleypas

She had his dark hair, his lashes, and from the glimpse he had, she bore his eyes, as well. But the shape of her face, a perfect oval, was her mother's. She had Anais's cheeks. Anais's lovely mouth and proud chin. He kissed her chin, feeling the softest of fluttering against his cheek - baby's breath. There was nothing sweeter than the feel of an innocent child's breath against one's cheek - nothing more wondrous than knowing that the baby was your own flesh and blood.
Mina stretched against him, yawning widely and throwing her arms up wide alongside her head. He laughed through his tears and reached for her little fist and brought it to his mouth, kissing her with such love he thought he would die of it. "You will consume me, little Mina, just as your mother has."
-Linsay to his infant daughter. ~ Charlotte Featherstone

To make lashes curl better, take a hair dryer to your eyelash curler for one or two seconds before using it. ~ Isla Fisher

Dark, that's the word. Dark hair strategically styled in at least a dozen conflicting directions. Dark brows and lashes, dark stubble, and hazel eyes pinning me with a piercing dark look. ~ Jewel E. Ann

The storm lashes us, out of the confusion of grey and yellow the hail of splinters whips forth the childlike cries of the wounded, and in the night shattered life groans painfully into silence. Our hands are earth, our bodies clay and our eyes pools of rain. We do not know whether we are still alive. ~ Erich Maria Remarque

I'll never leave you. I'll never mistreat you. I think you know that by now. Try with me. Let us find what we
may find."
"What do you expect to find, Robert?"
"How should I know? I've never experienced anything like this before in my life."
Tears shone briefly under her graceful long lashes before she blinked them away and glanced at him
again with a reluctant twist of a smile. Sitting up, she wrapped her arms around her bent knees and
sighed. "You are asking us both to set ourselves up for great hurt when it comes time for me to leave."
"Leave? Don't speak of leaving, angel. You must stay forever."
"As your mistress."
"As my love," he countered insistently. ~ Gaelen Foley

Don't save bold lashes and red lips for nighttime - do it in the day! ~ Tyra Banks

I love your loins, that's all,' Rachel says quietly. 'And now I love the word itself, and how words change, I love that too. And all the parts of you, I love them. That's all. And I'm not sad,' she whispers, gasping a little at the shock of her own tears, hot and extravagant, tears that catch the light in her lashes before they drop and roll across Zach's thighs, sparkling capsules, kaleidoscopic, the flow dynamic. ~ Emma Richler

Mascara is my daily essential. I pile it on top and bottom lashes during the day. If I'm going out, I'll add the individual Eylure lashes at the outer corners for more drama. ~ Ashley Madekwe

Two forms of government are favorable to the prevalence of falsehood and deceit. Under a Despotism, men are false, treacherous, and deceitful through fear, like slaves dreading the lash. Under a Democracy they are so as a means of attaining popularity and office, and because of the greed for wealth. ~ Albert Pike

Everything loses
it's splendour and light
when your lashes flop
over the dark circles
below your eyes.
Asleep. Soft.
With a scent of the
date cookies
you ate as a child. ~ Tatjana Ostojic

They locked him in the stockade for four days. No other prisoners occupied the other cells that ran the length of the room. He was alone, and that was fine with him. He needed to think, and that was best done in a place where he wouldn't see Ginesse Braxton - Ginesse, not Mildred - because she did things to his thought processes, such as dammed them up completely.
She acted and he reacted: viscerally, irrepressibly, and ruinously.
She fell in the water; he dove in after her. She laughed; he smiled. She mentioned the beauty of the sunset; he saw colors in it he hadn't ever noticed. She peeked at him from under her gold-tipped lashes; he grew hard as Damascus steel. Pomfrey said something derogatory; he wanted to kill the sonofabitch with his bare hands.
Things like that. ~ Connie Brockway

My eyelids felt like had tiny but chubby sleep faeries hanging on the lashes and pulling them closed ~ John Corwin

It had been only natural that as she developed into a young woman, she would become physically attracted to him. Certainly every other female in Hampshire was. McKenna had grown into a tall, big-boned male with striking looks, his features strong if not precisely chiseled, his nose long and bold, his mouth wide. His black hair hung over his forehead in a perpetual spill, while those singular turquoise eyes were shadowed by extravagant dark lashes. To compound his appeal, he possessed a relaxed charm and a sly sense of humor that had made him a favorite on the estate and in the village beyond. ~ Lisa Kleypas

Her eyes slid to Daniel. His fingers did a fast hunt-and-peck across the keyboard as his brows furrowed. The glow of the screen lit his face in the inadequately lit room. He had a nice profile. Long dark lashes that swept up and down as he typed, the perfect sized nose, a strong jaw, freshly shaven. His lips were nice too. Gently rounded peaks, set far apart. His lower lip was generous. Good kissing lips. He pursed them now. Jade jerked her eyes away. What are you doing, Jade? That's Daniel. She'd never noticed his nose or his long lashes, to say nothing of his lips - or had thoughts of kissing them. It was the hormones. They were doing weird things to her. Making her think crazy thoughts. Thoughts ~ Denise Hunter

The Lost Girls

Nomad girls are Lost Ones too,
With leaves at foot and crown;
They too seek shelter in the tress,
Drink Red and Gold and Brown.

Their circlets made of steam and rain,
Their lashes powdered ash,
They're firelight, they're fox's kill,
They're blood and sweat and scratch.

Lost Boys fly forever, and crow the rising sun.
They play all day in Neverland, their laughter mermaid-spun.
But Lost Girls live underground:
They steal from hole to hole.
They drink the shadows, wear the night,
And paint their cheeks with coal.

And when the wind turns colder,
They split a doe and climb inside.
Still-warm sinew wraps their hands,
Dead muscle soaks the light.

You'll never tell what's girl, what's beast,
Once bloody fur's been trussed-
So think your happy thoughts, Lost Boy,
Wish on your Fairy Dust. ~ Lauren Bird Horowitz