Marjolin Skin Quotes

#1. Honestly, I think it's about always making sure to cleanse your skin every single night. I never go to bed with my makeup on. That is a major key. There's nothing worse than waking up in the morning and all of your makeup has soaked into your pores. - Author: Shay Mitchell

#2. Beauty isn't skin-deep. It's bone-deep. Heart-deep. Soul-deep. Only put to sleep. When we prick our finger on fear. Beauty can't be bought or made. It can only be awoken through laughter, and living, and love. Through being you and being true. - Author: Siobhan Curham

#3. I will never be without information,' she determined. 'I will do better than my sisters. If a bird or any other beast comes out of that uncanny republic where husbands are grown, I will see him with his skin off before I agree to fall in love.' For this is how Marya Morevna surmised that love was shaped: an agreement, a treaty between two nations that one could either sign or not as they pleased. - Author: Catherynne M Valente

#4. The string slices into the skin of his fingers and no matter how tough the calluses, it tears.
But this beat is fast and even though his joints are aching, his arm's out of control like it has a mind of its own and the sweat tat drenches his hair and face seems to smother him, but nothing's going to stop Tom. He;s aiming for oblivion. - Author: Melina Marchetta

#5. Before she could think, he bent his head and was kissing her, only this wasn't anything like the chaste kiss she'd gave him. His mouth slanted across hers, demanding her response. Soft and warm, his tongue brushed against the tender skin. With a sigh, Clarissa parted her lips and he quickly took advantage, deepening their kiss.
His hand cupped the back of her head and his fingers tangled in her hair, while his other arm around her waist locked her against him. Clarissa twined her arms around his neck and felt the cold wall of the house at her back as he pressed her into it.
Her pulse raced as their kiss became even more heated, each second that passed marking time they didn't have. Langston's tongue stroked hers in a dance that set fire to her blood. The shadow of whiskers on his face softly abraded her skin. His hair was silky, and she couldn't resist from pushing her fingers into the thick strands, which he must have liked, judging by the masculine groan that met her ears.
When he finally lifted his head, both of them were breathing hard. - Author: Tiffany Snow

#6. The art of tea, whichever way you drink it, or whichever country you are from, has one underlining thread for all of us. It is the cultivation of yourself as you follow the ceremony of preparing your tea, the way in which you make your tea, how and where you drink it, and with whom. Making a cup of tea creates a space for just being. - Author: Nicola Salter

#7. Tissue gas was an embalmer's worst nightmare - a highly infectious form of bacteria that thrived on dead tissue and released a noxious gas inside the body. Smell was usually the easiest way to detect it, but sometimes, as with this body, the smell was buried under other chemicals, and the only way to identify it was the 'skin-slip' Mom had found on the back, where interior gas bubbles separated the skin from the muscle. The gas itself was bad enough, because the stink would soon become so foul it would be all but impossible to cover up; that didn't reflect well on us when people showed up for the viewing. Even worse than the gas though, were the bacteria that made it. Once they got into your workspace, you might never get them out again. If we didn't put a stop to this right now, every body we embalmed would catch the same bacteria from our tools and table. It could destroy the entire business. - Author: Dan Wells

#8. She took her coat off as if it had only now occurred to her to do so. She emerged from it like an insect sloughing off its skin. - Author: Haruki Murakami

#9. If the cultural standing of excrement doesn't convince them, I say that the material itself is as rich as oil and probably more useful. It contains nitrogen and phosphates that can make plants grow and also suck the life from water because its nutrients absorb available oxygen. It can be both food and poison. It can contaminate and cultivate. Millions of people cook with gas made by fermenting it. I tell them that I don't like to call it "waste," when it can be turned into bricks, when it can make roads or jewelry, and when in a dried powdered form known as poudrette it was sniffed like snuff by the grandest ladies of the eighteenth-century French court. Medical men of not too long ago thought stool examination a vital diagnostic tool (London's Wellcome Library holds a 150-year0old engraving of a doctor examining a bedpan and a sarcastic maid asking him if he'd like a fork). They were also fond of prescribing it: excrement could be eaten, drunk, or liberally applied to the skin. Martin Luther was convinced: he reportedly ate a spoonful of his own excrement daily and wrote that he couldn't understand the generosity of a God who freely gave such important and useful remedies. - Author: Rose George

#10. Seeping in through his clothes and his skin until it was gone - or not gone. Absorbed. - Author: V.E Schwab

#11. Hot." The last word, barely a whisper, lost itself in my hair as he pressed his lips to that spot just below my ear that can, apparently, flip the off switch in my brain. Before I realized it my hands were inside that jacket, stroking the hard planes of his chest and stomach. And then, as if moving without any prompting from me they reached down, undid his belt, pulled it loose, and…"Ahhh, that feels great," I moaned."I am completely grossed out over here!" Cassandra informed us.Vayl, who'd been peering down at me with an expression of utter disbelief, stared at Cassandra over the top of my head. "It is not what you think," he assured her."As if I'd do something that disgusting," I said, pulling away from him, but keeping the belt, because the buckle relieved the itching so much better than fingernails. I continued using it to scratch the inflamed skin across my stomach as I sat down by Cassandra.
"You are pathetic," she told me.
"I'd get all offended, but I'm pretty sure you're right. - Author: Jennifer Rardin

#12. Death holds no allure for me, Elena." The power of him cut against his skin, a cold white fire. "Not when I have yet to sate my hunger for you. - Author: Nalini Singh

#13. The day your kind stops killing each other over skin colour or which God someone prays to, I might believe that. - Author: Jeaniene Frost

#14. I was no stranger to bar fights. You'd think they'd be rare in a place like the University, but liquor is the great leveler. After six or seven solid drinks, there is very little difference between a miller on the outs with his wife and a young alchemist who's done poorly on his exams. They're both equally eager to skin their knuckles on someone else's teeth. - Author: Patrick Rothfuss

#15. I was its skin, its movement, its shape, its god, its creator, its destroyer. And you thought Dexter was bad. The Bridgeman arrives soon. - Author: Catherine Astolfo

#16. I want to map every inch of her skin with my mouth. I want to sit with her in my arms and kiss her for hours, until our lips are swollen and our jaws are tired. I want to know what she looks like when she comes. And I want to be the one who makes her come with my name falling from her lips. - Author: Monica Murphy

#17. At the skin, my blood calls out to
your heart, my whole sky craves
an island of tenderness.
My rivers tilt towards you. - Author: Marina Tsvetaeva

#18. His skin smelled sweet, like milk and honey, and he'd shaved and trimmed his hair. Etta ran a hand over it.

"You're looking especially clean this morning," she said.

"I couldn't sleep," he said, "so I brought water up for a bath, and then more for you. The water should still be warm."

Pure joy exploded in her. "I could kiss you for that!"

"By all means," he said coyly. "Don't hold yourself back on my account. - Author: Alexandra Bracken

#19. the migration patterns were the migration patterns solely of people of colour until 7000 years ago or later, when the first Caucasians appeared on earth, and the pigmentation of "white" skin only appeared 1000 years later. - Author: L.B. Ó Ceallaigh

#20. She flexed her fingers, as if she were ready to tear justice out of someone's skin. - Author: Julie Berry

#21. When he asks you why
you chose alone all these years.
Tell him that it's because
you love with all claws and bared teeth.
Apologize for the scratches
that you will leave on his skin;
ask forgiveness for the bite marks.
Tell him you never ever mean to love so hard, but you do. - Author: Danabelle Gutierrez

#22. He tilted my head up with his index finger. Tingles spread on my skin. Pain, obstacles, betrayal and all shitty things that happen in life shape everyone, just as much as good things do. Don't regret anything if in the end you can say you're an amazing woman. - Author: Stephanie Witter

#23. I dreamt of Curran snarling "Fix her!" And Doolittle saying that he wasn't a god and there was only so much he could do. I dreamt of Julie crying by my bed, of Jim sitting near, of Andrea telling me some frustratingly complicated story . . . The noises blended in my head until finally I could stand it no longer. "Would all of you just be quiet? Please."
I blinked and saw Curran's face.
"Hey," he said.
"Hey." I smiled. There he was, alive. I was alive. "I was telling the people in my head to shut up."
"They have medication for that."
"I probably can't afford it."
He caressed my cheek.
"You came for me," I whispered.
"Always," he told me.
"You're a damn idiot. Trying to throw your life away?"
"Just staying sharp. Keeping you safe keeps me in shape."
He leaned in and kissed me softly on the lips. I reached for him and he hugged me to him and held on for a long moment. I closed my eyes, smiling at the simple pleasure of his skin on mine. - Author: Ilona Andrews

#24. For a breath she wished for a shape-shifter's heart so she could shed her skin and weave herself into something else, the music or the wind, and blow across the world. - Author: Sarah J. Maas

#25. Bauer was a large, flat-topped man, with pale skin that had been acned and pitted so that it resembled a cob cleaned of corn, eyes the color of snuff, and the general expression of a natural-born straw boss. - Author: Daniel Woodrell

#26. Everyone looks to an artist for something more than just the music, and that message of being comfortable in my own skin is number one for me. - Author: Lizzo

#27. When you first looked at me
I forgot to breathe
that moment marked my hardened heart
I vowed to never leave

And the touch of your skin
healed something deep within
that left me wanting more of you
the less I got the more it grew

Oh I couldn't help from falling, falling for you

So I'm standing here, oh girl you know
After all that we've been through we couldn't let it go
and as long as I'm alive, in your eyes I'll stare
holding you so close I'll solemnly swear
that I have fallen too far
that I have fallen too far, too far for you.
For you

When I finally found you
I finally found me
that day I won't soon forget
the reason for it all

I'll give you a new name
nothing in life will be the same
the story is now complete
our life and love is all we need

'Cause I couldn't help from falling
falling for you

So I'm standing here oh girl you know
After all we've been through we couldn't let it go
and as long as I'm alive, in your eyes I'll stare
holding you so close I'll solemnly swear
that I have fallen too far, that I have fallen too far
too far for you

My heart is beating
begging for you
this night will be
a dream come true
so fall, fall, fall into my arms

So I'm standing here oh girl you know
After all that we've been through we couldn't let it - Author: Abbi Glines

#28. Everything would turn out exactly the same, and I would return here for a second time, and then, if I was fool enough, a third time, waiting, as now, for my other to touch the canvas. And it would be progressively worse, because though I would know slightly more each time, I would still be powerless to change my fate. Perhaps I would be unaware of the previous decision, yet choose again to come back. Or worse, I would become aware that I was inadvertently repeating the same mistake for a horrific split second just after I made the decision. Infinity was terrifying. Its abyss makes my skin crawl. - Author: Wesley Stace

#29. What I find really works for me is dry body brushing; it helps improve the circulation and exfoliates your skin. - Author: Miranda Kerr

#30. Long black hair and deep clean blue eyes and skin pale white and lips blood red she's small and thin and worn and damaged. She is standing there.
What are you doing here?
I was taking a walk and I saw you and I followed you.
What do you want.
I want you to stop.
I breathe hard, stare hard, tense and coiled. There is still more tree for me to destroy I want that fucking tree. She smiles and she steps towards me, toward toward toward me, and she opens he r arms and I'm breathing hard staring hard tense and coiled she puts her arms around me with one hand not he back of my head and she pulls me into her arms and she holds me and she speaks.
It's okay.
I breathe hard, close my eyes, let myself be held.
It's okay.
Her voice calms me and her arms warm me and her smell lightens me and I can feel her heart beat and my heart slows and I stop shaking an the Fury melts into her safety an she holds me and she says.
Okay.
Okay.
Okay.
Something else comes and it makes me feel weak and scared and fragile and I don't want to be hurt and this feeling is the feeling I have when I know I can be hurt and hurt deeper and more terribly than anything physical and I always fight it and control it and stop it but her voice calms me and her arms warm me and her smell lightens me and I can feel her heart beat and if she let me go right now I would fall and the need and confusion and fear and regret and horror and shame and weakness and f - Author: James Frey

#31. I am beautiful in my own right.
Not in vain, proud way but in the way God made me.
My beauty isn't connected to the amount of boys that look at me.
I do not become less beautiful because no boys flirt with me.
No my beauty is not skin deep.
My beauty is not found in my appearance.
I am beautiful because God doesn't make mistakes or second bests.
I am beautiful because I am a child of God.
Perfectly imperfect. - Author: Rachel Hamilton

#32. The real transformation upon the awakening of kundalini is that you shed your old tendencies and negativity like a snake sheds its old skin. You no longer feel angry or flustered over trivial matters unlike the earlier times. Your emotions and thoughts don't overpower and trample all over you anymore. You begin to gain control of yourself. - Author: Om Swami

#33. This is called My Youth in Vienna. It's a very nice edition
an association copy, Schnitzler to his Latin master, one Johann Auer, 'with thanks for the Auerisms.' [ ... ] Here he apologizes for writing so much on 'the so-called Jewish question.' But he says that no Jew, no matter how assimilated, was allowed to forget the fact of his birth. [ ... ] 'Even if you managed to conduct yourself so that nothing showed, it was impossible to remain completely untouched; as for instance a person may not remain unconcerned whose skin has been anesthetized but who has to watch, with his eyes open, how it is scratched by an unclean knife, even cut until the blood flows.' [ ... ] He wrote that in the early 1900s. The imagery is very chilling, is it not, in the light of what followed ... - Author: Geraldine Brooks

#34. A word is not a crystal, transparent and unchanged; it is the skin of a living thought and may vary greatly in colour and content according to the circumstances and time in which it is used. - Author: Oliver Wendell Holmes, Jr.

#35. How could someone possibly be that beautiful? She wondered for the hundred thousandth time. What higher power orchestrated such a perfect union of genes? Who decided that one single solitary soul deserved skin like that? It was so fundamentally unfair.(Chasing Harry Winston) - Author: Lauren Weisberger

#36. Skin color or the shape of one's nose cannot be the criteria upon which individuals are judged. Black is not beautiful; it's racist. Being African-American, conscious of your culture, fascinated by your history, this is beautiful - and really has nothing to do with putting a color chart next to your face. - Author: Anthony Marais

#37. He opened his eyes again, raking his gaze up and down my body before coming to rest on my crotch. "Quite simply," he said, "I'd like to lick your cunt. I'd like to hear you scream my name."

The world seemed to sway. "Don't... don't you have groupies for that sort of thing?" I asked breathlessly.

"I'd rather have you."

I swallowed. "I don't know what to say."

"You can start by saying yes, please, Kent. Eat my pussy."

My skin tingled with his words. I wondered why he wasn't the one singing, front and center. That voice could carry me away, anywhere he wanted me to go...

Oh, this was a problem. This was a huge problem, and I wasn't about to make it any better. My mouth was dry, but the words came out clear enough:

"Yes, please, Kent. Eat my pussy."

"I thought you'd never ask," he said. - Author: Ava Lore

#38. APHORISM, n. Predigested wisdom. The flabby wine-skin of his brain Yields to some pathologic strain, And voids from its unstored abysm The driblet of an aphorism. "The Mad Philosopher," 1697 - Author: Ambrose Bierce

#39. Even as she spoke, silver blue flashed on her other side and then Illium was standing beside her, his wing touching Elena's in an intimacy that made Raphael raise an eyebrow. Illium's lips curved in a wicked smile that did little to hide the intensity of his emotions. I would not watch you die again, Sire. His veins stood out against his skin as he gripped the wrist of one hand with the other.
Raphael met those eyes of gold that had stood beside him for centuries. If I had done so, I would have gone knowing you would keep my heart safe.
Illium's gaze went to Elena. Always. - Author: Nalini Singh

#40. We've worshipped many gods. Some have been consigned to the scrapheap, others to museums. Let us make Truth into a god! A god before whom each of us shall answer according to his own conscience, and not as a class, or a university year, or a collective, or a people... Let us be charitable to those who have paid a greater price for insight than we ourselves. Remember: 'I brought my friend, and my own truth, back with me from a raid.. Head, arms and legs, all severed, and his skin flayed... - Author: Svetlana Alexievich

#41. Don't cry,' he breathed out so very close to my face. Just a little closer and I'd feel his lips ghosting against mine. "It's like a punch in my guts when you cry.'
"You shouldn't touch me,' I said, but despite my words, I didn't try to move away from his touch. A tear ran to my upper lip and I tasted it with the very tip of my tongue. Nolan's eyes darkened when he followed it, not straying from my mouth. I could see goosebumps over his skin on his neck and on his forearms. "Nolan? - Author: Stephanie Witter

#42. connection between skin color and sunlight. The results were as clear as the sky on a cloudless day - there was a near-constant correlation between skin color and sunlight exposure in populations that had remained in the same area for 500 years or more. They even produced an equation to express the relationship between a given population's skin color and its annual exposure to ultraviolet rays. (If you're feeling adventurous, the equation is W = 70-AUV/10. W represents relative whiteness and AUV represents annual ultraviolet exposure. The 70 is based on research that indicates that the whitest possible skin - the result of a population that received zero exposure to UV - would reflect about 70 percent of the light directed at it.) - Author: Sharon Moalem

#43. The feeling of his lips on my skin and his hand just below my breasts sent shivers through my body. I ran my hands through his soft hair, slipping in a kiss as he ran his tongue up my neck. His lips met mine again. - Author: Julia Crane

#44. The door was locked. The control had been buggered. Miles ripped it apart, shorted it out, and heaved the door open manually, nearly snapping his splayed fingers. She lay in a tumbled heap, too pale and still. Miles fell to his knees beside her. Throat pulse, throat pulse - there was one. Her skin was warm, her chest rose and fell. Stunned, only stunned. Only stunned. He looked up at a blurred Ivan hovering anxiously, swallowed, and steadied his ragged breathing. It had, after all, been the most logical possibility. - Author: Lois McMaster Bujold

#45. "I am so sorry, Joe," he whispered, gently pushing her hair away from her face and neck. "I know I keep fucking up," he said, pressing a kiss to her neck, "and that by all rights you should bitch slap me, but I can't stand the idea of you getting hurt."
His hand found its way to her panty clad hip and gave her a gentle squeeze. "It kills me to think of what could have happened that night, Joe," he explained softly as he pressed another kiss to her neck. "Do you have any idea how lost I would be without you?"
"You're my entire world, Joe," he said, pressing another kiss to her neck, this time lingering. "I don't know what I'd do without," he said against her skin. - Author: R.L. Mathewson

#46. A cowboy's hands are as strong as steel, as tough as leather, but soft enough to touch a butterfly's wing and the skin of a woman without disturbing the beauty of either. - Author: Carol Crandell (The Weaver's Tale: A Story Of The Malheur River Country

#47. I don't love her!" he shouted. His voice echoed through his empty apartment. He stood and toppled his coffee table, its glass top shattering as it hit the floor. He kicked the sofa several times then went on a full rampage through his lavish apartment. Every ornament got a taste of his wrath. Curtains were ripped off the railings. Paintings were hit off the wall. Vases were flung across the room. Nothing was exempt from this riotous frenzy. Loud banging. Damaged furniture. Cracked glass. Everything that was whole and complete needed to be destroyed. Everything needed to feel the same way he did.
Broken… Shattered…
"I don't love her." He collapsed hopelessly into the mess he created, not caring about the jagged pieces of glass that pierced his skin. "I don't love her." He shut his eyes but the tears streamed down his cheeks regardless. "Love isn't this painful. - Author: Jacqueline Francis - The Journal

#48. I just can't conceive of how a person could hate another because of skin color. I love every race on the planet earth. - Author: Michael Jackson

#49. I didn't hit her, man, what happened was that Maria was obsessed with the Marquis de Sade and wanted to try the spanking thing," said Luscious Skin.
"That's very Maria," said Pancho. "She takes her reading seriously. - Author: Roberto Bolano