No Shirt Quotes

I find vacuuming very therapeutic, but I hate ironing. I usually have no shirt on while ironing, because I'm ironing it, and I end up burning my chest. ~ Warwick Davis

Thomas looked like someone's painting of the forgotten Greek god of body cologne. He had long hair so dark that light itself could not escape it, and even fresh from the shower it was starting to curl. His eyes were the color of thunderclouds, and he never did a single moment of exercise to earn the gratuitous amount of ripple in his musculature. He was wearing jeans and no shirt
his standard household uniform. I once saw him answer the door to speak to a female missionary in the same outfit, and she'd assaulted him in a cloud of forgotten copies of The Watchtower. The tooth marks she left had been interesting. ~ Jim Butcher

Marcus directed his response to Zach. "Do you have something against shirts?" His eyes dropped to Zach's bare chest.
"Yes," Zach retorted.
Tracy laughed. "I can live with that."
"Me too," Sean's Second, Nichole, said with a smile. ~ Dianne Duvall

Anytime you see white men suppose to fight each other an you not white, well you know you got trouble, because they blah-blah loud about Democrat or Republican an they huffing an puff about democracy someplace else but relentless, see, the deal come down evil on somebody don have no shirt an tie, somebody don live in no whiteman house no whiteman country. ~ June Jordan

The sixth rule of Fight Club: No shirt, no shoes. ~ Chuck Palahniuk

The jamaat was an almost silly mish-mash of people: Rude Dawud's pork-pie hat poking up here, a jalab-and-turban there, Jehangir's big Mohawk rising from a sea of kufis, Amazing Ayyub still with no shirt, girls scattered throughout – some in hejab, some not and Rabeya in punk-patched burqa doing her thing. But in its randomness it was gorgeous, reflecting an Islam I felt could not happen anywhere else ... If Islam was to be saved, it would be saved by the crazy ones: Jehangir and Rabeya and Fasiq and Dawud and Ayyub and even Umar. ~ Michael Muhammad Knight

If you have two shirts in your closet, one belongs to you and the other to the man with no shirt. ~ Ambrose Of Milan

I observed the cowboy in his natural element. He liked to work with no shirt on, which seemed so perfectly right and not at all beefcake. ~ Alice Clayton

My eyes change color depending on my mood and what I'm wearing. If I'm wearing an acorn brown shirt, my eyes look like squirrel fur. And if I'm wearing no shirt at all, my eyes look more nude and flesh-colored. I guess my ex girlfriend, Zelda, said it best when her friend asked her what I look like and she said: "He looks like you'd imagine him to look like, if you had no imagination. ~ Jarod Kintz

Kyle must have seen my panic, because when I looked up at him again, his jacket and shirt were off and he was handing me his shirt. The sight of him with no shirt on hit me. Holy hell, what was he doing? ~ Christie Cote

I'm really sorry, Nathan." Her accent thickened as she stared up at him, biting her lip nervously as she wondered how much he would pout.
Nathan could go all quiet, somber, and answer her in monosyllables that drove her insane. He would glare at her.
He would watch ball games. He would come to bed late. Late. After she went to sleep. And wouldn't give her any until the next morning. It really wasn't fair.
"Nathan, please don't be mad at me . . ."
"How did you hit my truck? How? It was sitting in plain view. Plain view, Sabella." He was getting angry. He only said her full name when he was really getting angry or really, really horny. And he was not horny. Okay, this wasn't good. She could do without for days. But she didn't like it.
She stomped her foot, glaring back at him in irritation. "If it weren't for you, I would have never hit it."
"Me?" He stepped back, shaking his head fiercely. "How the hell was this my fault?"
"Because you were cutting the grass, with no shirt, in sexy jeans and boots, and seeing your tight ass striding across the lawn made me horny. You distracted me. It's all your fault. If you dress properly things like this just would not happen, Nathan . . ."
He kissed her. It wasn't a gentle, easy kiss. It was rough and ready and smack full of lust as he jerked her against him, pressing his cock into her belly as she gasped in pleasure.
"You are so spanked." He picked her up, striding across the lawn, leaving her ~ Lora Leigh

I walked out of the condos onto the flat lithesome beach this morning, and took a walk in my swimming trunks and no shirt on. And I thought that one natural effect of life is to cover you in a thin layer of . . . what? A film? A residue or skin of all the things you've done and been and said and erred at? I'm not sure. But you are under it, and for a long time, and only rarely do you know it, except that for some unexpected reason or opportunity you come out--for an hour or even a moment--and you suddenly feel pretty good. And in that magical instant you realize how long it's been since you felt just that way. Have you been ill, you ask. Is life itself an illness or a syndrome? Who knows? We've all felt that way, I'm confident, since there's no way that I could feel what hundreds of millions of other citizens haven't.

Only suddenly, then, you are out of it--that film, that skin of life--as when you were a kid. And you think: this must've been the way it was once in my life, though you didn't know it then, and don't really even remember it--a feeling of wind on your cheeks and your arms, of being released, let loose, of being the light-floater. And since that is not how it has been for a long time, you want, this time, to make it last, this glistening one moment, this cool air, this new living, so that you can preserve a feeling of it, inasmuch as when it comes again it may just be too late. You may just be too old. And in truth, of course, this may be the last time ~ Richard Ford

I was wearing my bathroom-cleaning costume of shorts, surgical boots, and gloves but no shirt. "Wow." She stared at me for a few moments. "This is what martial arts training does, is it?" She appeared to be referring to my pectoral muscles. ~ Graeme Simsion

I'm rockin' PJ's and no shirt. I smoke weed, eat yogurt ~ Mac Miller

Not that Strider was intoxicated. He was the sober one. He reclined on a delightfully cushioned lounge in the sprawling ranch Paris had rented. In Dallas, Texas, of all places. Promiscuity had decked himself out, too, wearing a Stetson (weird), no shirt (understandable), unfastened jeans (smart) and cowboy boots (weird again). Dude looked ready to rustle cattle or something. At ~ Gena Showalter

Good Lord, just look at that six pack!" She sighed. "I think you could grate cheese there."

"Fran, if you were with Daniel Craig with no shirt, I think the last thing you would think about would be grating cheese. ~ Amanda Laneley

No shirt today. Dammit. ~ Colleen Hoover

Sometimes, particularly in summers in New York, I have tried to write in shorts or with no shirt on and found myself unable to do so, the reason being, I take it, that writing, even of the most impersonal sort, is for me a divestment, a striptease, even, so that if I start off undressed, I have nowhere to go. ~ Alan Bennett

He seemed normal again, or as normal as Myrnin ever got, anyway. He'd begged, borrowed, or outright stolen a long, black velvet coat, and under it he was still wearing the poofy white Pierrot pants from his costume, dark boots, and no shirt. Long, black, glossy hair and decadently shining eyes.
Oliver took in the outfit, and raised a brow. "You look like you escaped from a Victorian brothel," he said. "One that . . . specialized."
In answer, Myrnin skinned up the sleeves of the coat. The wound in his back might have healed--or might be healing, anyway--but the burns on his wrists and hands were still livid red, with an unhealthy silver tint to them. "Not the sort of brothel I'd normally frequent, by choice," he said, "though of course you might be more adventurous, Oliver. ~ Rachel Caine

Martin nodded, his head snapping up and down. He was wearing baggy gray sweatpants and no shirt. His torso was soft and undeveloped and covered with a thick growth of fine hair. He squinted against the bright morning sun. Yeah, sure. What do you want? ~ Robert Crais

He is wearing he same black pants from yesterday, but no shirt, his body is brown and hard, perfectly proportioned. He knows that he is beautiful and somehow his makes him ugly. ~ Damon Galgut

I remember seeing Extreme play with [Debra] Winger and Cinderella. Gary Cherone was wearing purple velvet overalls with no shirt and saddle oxfords.Afterward, I went home and told my mom, "I need to find saddle oxfords." And she said, "Like little girls wear?" Naturally, I couldn't find them in my size, so I went to a shoemaker and had him make me a pair. I wore them for a while, but they didn't seem as cool on me, because when your foot is size 12, they sort of look like clown shoes. ~ Patrick Wilson

He reclined on a delightfully cushioned lounge in the sprawling ranch Paris had rented. In Dallas, Texas, of all places. Promiscuity had decked himself out, too, wearing a Stetson (weird), no shirt (understandable), unfastened jeans (smart) and cowboy boots (weird again). Dude looked ready to rustle cattle or something. ~ Gena Showalter

Isaiah opens the door to the bathroom, and steam pours out. He sports a pair of jeans and no shirt.
"Wear some clothes around my girl."
Isaiah digs through his duffel bag. "Why? She already knows I'm the better-looking one. Echo chose you because you've got that smooth mouth." ~ Katie McGarry

Uncle Mort pounded on the ceiling of the basement.
"I sense affection!" he yelled. "Knock it off, you two!"
Scowling at the camera, Lex retreated to the other end of the couch while Driggs pulled his shirt back down and gave her a disappointed look.
"Next time Crash us to a hotel room, okay?" he grumbled. ~ Gina Damico

Oz suddenly looked very guilty. "About that. Um, that's because I marked you last night."
My smile froze on my cheeks, making my face ache. "What?"
He suddenly found the half-eaten pancakes on his plate fascinating. "While you were sleeping on the couch, I rolled you over and ... "
The blood left my face. "What exactly does marking someone entail?"
"Nothing so bad. I just bit your back."
"You bit me?"
"Yeah. I injected some venom into your bloodstream that would make you feel better around me. I like holding your hand but I didn't think it was very practical."
I lifted my shirt, pulled down my pants, and almost fell over. My lower back looked ... it looked ... "You gave me a festering tramp stamp?" I shrieked.
"You don't think it's cute? ~ Katherine Pine

John, you don't like me."

"I've never said I didn't like you."

"You don't have to say it. You just look at me and I know it's true."

His brows drew together. "How do I look at you?"

She sat back. "You scowl and frown at me as if I'd done something tacky, like scratch myself in public."

He smiled. "That bad, huh?"

"Yes."

"What if I promise not to scowl at you?"

"I don't think that's a promise you can keep. You are a very moody person."

He removed one hand from his pocket and placed it over the even pleats of his shirt. "I'm very easygoing."

Georgeanne rolled her eyes. "And Elvis is alive and raising minks somewhere in Nebraska. ~ Rachel Gibson

Garrett tosses me the shirt. "Okay, get changed. We want to be fashionably late, not asshole late. ~ Elle Kennedy

When I found out I had to take off my shirt in 'Teen' movie, I panicked and hit the gym. I was like, 'It's going to be on film, documented, for my children to see. I can't be 140 pounds. I need to put on a little bit of muscle.' ~ Chris Evans

I'll tell them," she said. "I'll tell them it was my fault."
He looked at her, gold eyes incredulous. "You can't lie to them."
"I'm not. I brought you back," she said. "You were dead, and I brought you back. I upset the balance, not you. I opened the door for Lilith and her stupid ritual. I could have asked for anything, and I asked for you." She tightened her grip on his shirt, her fingers white with cold and pressure. "And I would do it again. I love you, Jace Wayland - Herondale - Lightwood - whatever you want to call yourself. I don't care. I love you and I wil always love you, and pretending it could be any other way is just a waste of time. ~ Cassandra Clare

Indie Rokkers"

i like the line between your belly and your thighs
the smell of your hair
the sparkle in your eyes
the smoke in your breath
the breathing hard and heavy
the back of your neck
the shine on your Chevy
the moon was so big when i drove it to the levy, girl

i found blood and i saw stars
all in the backseat of your car
and i told you it was love
but you don't wanna know the truth
i was young and in my prime
with my heart still filled with fear
and it goes on bleedin'

the clean dreams, the sexy limousine
Jason's (?) got the energy he used to be a coke fien
the skinny brown arms coming round in your shirt
heart is in the right place brain is in the dirt
you live life like everyone's an enemy

i found blood and i saw stars
all in the backseat of your car
and i told you it was love
but you don't wanna know the truth
i was young and in my prime
with my heart still filled with fear
and it goes on bleedin ~ MGMT

Alana – still dressed as a pirate- chambers over the counter like that evil Japanese ghost in the Ring, knocking over the child-size popcorn of some little kid, who starts to cry. The pink-pigtailed girl knows something crazy is going on, but she doesn't yet understand it has anything to do with her. Not until Alana has grabbed Tyler by his black button-down shirt and pushed him hard into the Icee machine, which begins to stream cherry-red Icee onto the counter. ~ Tommy Wallach

I love you, Rylann." He cupped her face, peering down into her eyes. "And now I finally have a good answer to the one question everyone always asks me
why I hacked into Twitter. I didn't know it at the time ... but I did it to find you again."
She leaned into him, curling her fingers around his shirt. "That may be the best justification I've ever heard for committing a crime." She looked up at him, her eyes shining. "And I love you, too, you know. ~ Julie James

It's me," he says softly. "Stop listening to everything else. Remember the way you feel when I'm kissing you and touching you. Don't think with your head. You know me. And when my lips are on yours, you trust me." As if to make his point, he dips his head and brushes his mouth over mine. Sparks fly between us. As always. "You trust me, when my hands are on your skin." He runs his palms down my arms and then over to my waist where he pushes them up under the edge of my shirt. Chills break out down my back. "You trust me when you turn your mind off, when you just feel. ~ M. Leighton

He reached up for his elegant neck cloth and began to unfasten it, and she watched his long, pale, bejeweled fingers in something of a daze.
He pulled the cloth free, his shirt coming open, and she averted her gaze from the disturbing sight of his bare chest. She heard his laugh, and then his hands were on her once more, catching her shoulders and turning her around. "Don't worry, my pet. You won't be seeing anything that might shock you." And he pulled the neck cloth over her eyes, effectively blinding her.
She wanted to fight back, to struggle, but that would give him an excuse to touch her further, and the less she felt the brush of his cool fingers the better. "That's right," he said, his voice soft and approving. "Now give me your arm and we'll give you a taste of damnation."
"Do you really find blasphemy that entertaining?" she said, trying not to start when he took her hand and placed it on his arm.
"Always."
She'd never put her hand on any arm that wasn't covered by layers of clothing, including a coat. The devil who oversaw these revels, be he Monsieur le Comte or something else, wore only a thin shirt made of the finest lawn. In her sudden world of darkness she was acutely aware of the feel of his arm beneath her fingers. The sinew and bone. The unexpected warmth of his skin, when his hands and his heart were so cold. ~ Anne Stuart

Who are you?" Violet asked. It is confusing to fall asleep in the daytime and wake up at night.
"what are you doing with Uncle Monty's reptiles?" Klaus asked. It is also confusing to realize you have been sleeping on stairs, rather than in a bed or sleeping bag.
"Dixnik?" Sunny asked. It is always confusing why anyone would choose to wear a plaid shirt. ~ Lemony Snicket

It rarely snows because Antarctica is a desert. An iceberg means it's tens of millions of years old and has calved from a glacier. (This is why you must love life: one day you're offering up your social security number to the Russia Mafia; two weeks later you're using the word calve as a verb.) I saw hundreds of them, cathedrals of ice, rubbed like salt licks; shipwrecks, polished from wear like marble steps at the Vatican; Lincoln Centers capsized and pockmarked; airplane hangars carved by Louise Nevelson; thirty-story buildings, impossibly arched like out of a world's fair; white, yes, but blue, too, every blue on the color wheel, deep like a navy blazer, incandescent like a neon sign, royal like a Frenchman's shirt, powder like Peter Rabbit's cloth coat, these icy monsters roaming the forbidding black. ~ Maria Semple

I straighten and stretch my neck side to side. 'I really need to hit something.'
Rafa's mouth quirks. 'I know what you need.'
'In your dreams.' I know where this is going: it's been the same banter for about five decades now. Usually he saves it for an audience.
'In my dreams, Gabe, you end up slick with sweat and moaning.'
'I have food poisoning?'
He laughs, a beer halfway to his lips. Condensation drips from the bottle. He's completely at ease here: three-quarter cargoes, frayed t-shirt, bare feet. 'I'm just saying that if you need distracting, I'm your man.'
'If I wanted to go places everyone else has been, Rafa, I'd take a trip to Disneyland.'
He leans in closer. 'Yeah, but don't you want to know why everyone loves Space Mountain? ~ Paula Weston

I've never worn a dress shirt that's been comfortable. I've always just worn dress shoes. On more than one occasion, I've heard that a champion should dress like a champion. But I'm a champion because of who I am. Who I am is not that guy. If everybody wears three-piece suits, everyone looks the same. ~ CM Punk

I longed for artificial bacon bits, melted cheese in a shade of yellow unknown to nature, and creamy chocolate fillings, sometimes all in the same product. I wanted food that squirts when you bite into it or plops onto your shirt front in such gross quantities that you have to rise very, very carefully from the table and sort of limbo over to the sink to clean yourself up. ~ Bill Bryson

I close my eyes and press my face into his shirt and howl against him, liquid agony pouring from me. He smooths my hair from my face and continues to murmur, but he never shushes me, never tells me to stop. Never tells me it'll be all right. He knows life too well to believe such lies. ~ Aprilynne Pike

Unfortunately, once I did learn to smoke, I couldn't stop. I escalated to two packs a day very quickly, and stayed that way for about ten years. When I decided to stop, I adopted the method that my father had used when he quit. He would carry a cigarette in his shirt pocket, and every time he felt like smoking, he would pull out the cigarette and confront it: "Who stronger? You? Me?" Always the answer was the same: "I stronger." Back the cigarette would go, until the next craving. It worked for him, and it worked for me. ~ Kirk Douglas

Now's my chance. I grab the collar of his shirt and pull him down so I can reach. As soon as our lips touch, his hands gently grasp the sides of my face, holding me close.
Pulling away slowly, Kristian gazes down at me, the dim light around the shadowed room glinting in his dark eyes. This moment is perfect. One I will remember forever. Kristian's fingers run down the side of my face, I smile up at him and he returns it. ~ Dannielle Wicks

I like Billy Beane for his idiosyncrasies - that he can't watch the games without getting too emotional, that he often has food down his shirt, that he tends to break a few chairs now and then.These things make him human. ~ Brad Pitt

And then he's grabbing my hand, and pulling me into a storage room they use for art supplies. And he puts his finger to his lips, and the walls are filled with pads of paper and boxes of colored pencils and jars of paint,
and I'm laughing
and he shuts the door behind us
and leans up against it to stop anyone coming in
and like he's trying to get up his nerve now that he's started something,
before we've ever gone to the dumplings and the movies -
he leans in and kisses me.
His lips are cold. The kiss is soft. He has gum in his mouth, and he stops, and giggles nervously, and takes it out and throws it in the trash can,
and looks like he feels embarrassed to have kissed me with the gum,
but I don't care,
and so now I kiss him,
and he's tall enough that he has to bend down to get to me,
and I put my hand on his neck, which is smooth and warm,
and we kiss for a minute in the storage room,and I want to run my hands up his shirt suddenly -
but I don't.
He pulls away for a second and touches my cheek.
"I thought you'd never ask," he whispers.
"I thought I never would either," I say, "but I did."
"Good job," he says, and kisses me again. ~ E. Lockhart

I pause by the door,schedule in hand, taking a moment to confirm I'm in the right place,since I really don't need to make that particular mistake yet again.
Independent study.Right.Last class of the day-praise be,hallelujah, and more.
I make my way inside and introduce myself to the man at the podium bearing a squinty mean gaze, a cruel slash of a mouth, a size-too-small T-shirt forced to stretch over a belly that will always arrive well before the rest of him,and a crew cut so tight it's mostly just scalp.Pausing when he places a red checkmark next to my name and tells me to grab any seat.
If I've learned anything today,it's that it can't be that easy.It may not be obvious at first sight,but somewhere in this deceptively innocuous classroom, territory has been staked, boundaries drawn,and an invisible wall erected,bearing an equally invisible sign that states clueless new girls like me are not welcome here.
"Any seat," he barks, shooting me a look that's already pegged me as just another moron in a succession of many. ~ Alyson Noel

Lan, through her stories, was also traveling in a spiral. As I listened, there would be moments when the story would change-- not much, just a minuscule detail, the time of day, the color of someone's shirt, two air raids instead of three, an AK-47 instead of a 9mm, the daughter laughing, not crying. Shifts in narrative would occur-- the past never a fixed and dormant landscape but one that is re-seen. Whether we want to or not, we are traveling in a spiral, we are creating something new from what is gone. ~ Ocean Vuong

Sympathy is why when a man is getting mugged, you let him keep his shirt after you take his life. Funerals are respectable affairs, after all. ~ Bauvard

My style during the day is very casual - boyfriend jeans, T-shirts, Converse, Uggs, whatever. At night, I love heels and thigh-highs, I like something fresh and new, and I'm not afraid to push the envelope. ~ Katie Cassidy

My hands were trembling, but only because of who he was, not because I was scared of him. I oddly felt calmed by his presence. He smiled as he placed his hands in the pockets of his charcoal gray pants. He was finely dressed in a black button up shirt that was unbuttoned at the top low enough to see where his chest began. It clung to him, accentuating every muscular detail. I shook my head. I had to stop evaluating him.
"Is everything okay?" Ethan asked, tilting his head to the side, trying to read my expression.
"Huh ... oh, yeah, fine. ~ Nicole Gulla

he ran his palms up the warmth of her bare back, beneath the white T-shirt, that the people in his life weren't beads strung on a wire of sequence, but clustered like quanta, so that he knew her as well as he'd known Rudy, or Allison, or Conroy, as well as he knew the girl who was Mitchell's daughter. "Hey," she whispered, working her mouth free, "you come upstairs now. ~ William Gibson

They can't expect anyone to actually pay for a shirt that says, 'I (picture of an elephant) the San Diego Zoo.' What does that even mean? ~ Adam Rex

The revoloution is just a T-shirt away. ~ Billy Bragg

He wore a threadbare white T-shirt that should've been as noteworthy as a bowl of oatmeal. Instead, it clung to his chest like it had aspirations of taking over for his skin. Hell, she'd have the same life goal. ~ Christine Bell

In my everyday life, I'm a jeans and button-up shirt kind of guy. ~ James Wolk

When he was dressed, Stepan Arkadyevitch sprinkled some scent on himself, pulled down his shirt-cuffs, distributed into his pockets his cigarettes, pocketbook, matches, and watch with its double chain and seals, and shaking out his handkerchief, feeling himself clean, fragrant, healthy, and physically at ease, in spite of his unhappiness, he walked with a slight swing on each leg into the dining-room, where coffee was already waiting for him, and beside the coffee, letters and papers from the office. ~ Leo Tolstoy

I like Daniel. He takes care of you."
I blinked. "Oh my God. Did you really just say that? He takes care of me?"
Dad flushed. "I didn't mean it like-"
"Takes care of me? Did I go to sleep and wake up in the nineteenth century?" I looked down at my jeans and T-shirt. "Ack! I can't go to school like this. Where's my corset? My bonnet?"
Dad sighed as Mom walked in with her empty teacup.
"What did I miss?" She said.
"Dad's trying to marry me off to Daniel." I looked at him.
"You know, if you offer him a new truck for a dowry, he might go for it. ~ Kelley Armstrong

I can deal with your judgment, because I've always marched to the beat of my own drummer
ever since i cut my camp shirt into a halter top. ~ Hannah

Iris is my opposite in all ways small. She loves reality TV, finds movies too long, and only reads when it's for an assignment. Her idea of fun involves a credit card and an open mall, and she has harbored a massive crush on Justin Bieber, despite all his WTFuckery, since her junior year of high school. Her continuing love of The Bieb is evident by the fact that her favorite nightshirt is a My World concert tee. And while the image of his face plastered over her boobs is more than creepy, I hate that she hides the shirt whenever Henry comes around. Or rather, I hate that Henry makes her feel like she should to hide it for fear he'll make fun of her. ~ Kristen Callihan