Parched Lips Quotes

To build a church when a school house is needed is to perpetrate a theft upon education.
To build a church when a hospital is needed is to take from the parched lips of the sick the cup of relief and from the suffering the merciful hand of help.
When the object of man's conduct will be to improve the conditions of his fellow man and not the appeasement of a mythical God, he will become more understanding and more indulgent of the frailties, mistakes, and action of others, and by the same token he will become more appreciative of their efforts.
He will develop a greater consciousness to avoid mistakes and to prevent injury. Life and its living will take on a greater significance, and our efforts and energies will be devoted to creating as much joy and happiness as possible for all living creatures. ~ Joseph Lewis

She licked her parched lips, moistening them, preparing them. "You could lose your job."
"You could be expelled."
"It's unethical."
"Dangerous."
His mouth hovered only millimeters over hers. "We doing this?"
She hooked her arms around his neck. "God yes. ~ Shelly Bell

Jessica," he began. "Just leave me alone!" He turned her around. That she only hesitated briefly before she allowed it was a very good sign, to his mind. He pulled her close, then ran his blood-caked hand over her hair as gently as he knew how. She liked that. He would have walked from Hadrian's wall to London on his hands if she'd liked that, too. Saints, what a fool love made of a normally sane man. He rested his bruised cheek against her hair. "Jess," he whispered, "it was talk you shouldn't have heard." She tried to pull away, but he tightened his arms around her. "I said things I didn't mean." "You creep, then you don't care about me at all!" "I care," he said, forcing the words from between suddenly parched lips. He was so terrified, he was shaking. If she turned and walked away now, he wasn't sure he would survive. ~ Lynn Kurland

How soft and gentle her name sounds when I whisper it. It lingers on the tongue, insidious and slow, almost like poison, which is apt indeed. It passes from the tongue to the parched lips, and from the lips back to the heart. And the heart controls the body, and the mind also. Shall I be free of it one day? ~ Daphne Du Maurier

Hope is a merciless tormentor. It's the sound of trickling water to parched lips. The prospect of love to the unlovable. A miracle cure to the parents of a dying child. It holds up victory over the inevitable and beckons us to crawl further over slicing shards, all the while pulling back, remaining just out of reach. It makes agony out of mere pain by pretending a different outcome could have been. It laughs at mankind's embrace of it after millennia of disappointment. ~ Robert Liparulo

Sinking, sinking, drinking water. When everyone in the village was fasting a long month,when not a grain, not a drop of water passed between the parched lips of any able-bodied man, woman or child over the age of ten, when the sun was hotter than the cooking pot and dusk was just a febrile wish, the hypocrite went down to the pond to duck his head, to dive and sink, to drink and sink a little lower. p. 105 ~ Monica Ali

Inch by tantalizing inch, he brought the shirt up exposing his six pack abs. Kim's mouth went dry as more and more of his chest was revealed to her view. Her tongue ran over her parched lips. All she could think about was licking something off those abs. It could have been poison and she would have gladly licked it and begged for more. ~ Marie Rose Dufour

I am not a historian. I happen to think that the content of my mother's life - her myths, her superstitions, her prayers, the contents of her pantry, the smell of her kitchen, the song that escaped from her sometimes parched lips, her thoughtful repose and pregnant laughter - are all worthy of art. ~ August Wilson

I often remember in this false, distorted way, and the memories are often cloaked in the colour of the sun. Sometimes I feel nostalgia for things I knew I hated when they were happening, for days spent at the beach or the swimming pool with my sisters.
When I pick my memories apart, I realise my mind has merely played back the objective ingredients, the clichéd apparatus of happiness, the sun, the sound of splashing water, ice-cream on parched lips and cold fizzy drink on a hot tongue, and laugher too. My memory often peddles on the falsehood of past happiness. I should know this. ~ M.J. Hyland

Perhaps the only people who need go thirsty through the street where there is a drinking fountain, are the fine ladies and gentlemen who are in their carriages. They are very thirsty - but cannot think of being so vulgar as to get out to drink. It would demean them, they think, to drink at a common drinking fountain - so they ride by with parched lips. Oh, how many there are who are rich in their own good works and cannot therefore come to Christ! ~ Charles Haddon Spurgeon

I sat up then, looking at him appraisingly, knowing that was the moment I could stop everything if I wanted to. "Maybe you should go," I whispered, as I ran my hand through his hair slowly.
"Maybe I should stay," he said, bringing his lips to mine again. ~ Monica Alexander

Something statuesque is approaching her. It radiates a field of dynamic tension that grows more intense the closer it comes, its shadow lengthening upon the floor. Still, she cannot turn around to see the horror behind her, for at this point she cannot move her body, which is stiff-jointed and rigid. Perhaps she can scream, she thinks, and makes an attempt to do so. But this fails, because by then there is already a firm and tepid hand that has covered her mouth from behind. The fingers on her lips feel like thick, naked crayons. ~ Thomas Ligotti

I have to kiss her again; I start with her lips. When I taste her on my tongue, I want more. I need more. Tugging on her bottom lip with mine elicits a soft groan of pleasure from her. I live in the sound of it.
When our bodies fit together, like pieces falling into place, I'm nearly undone by it and by her eyes. They narrow and her forehead leans forward to rest against mine. Through her eyes, I can almost see inside her soul. That's where I long to be: centered near her soul, wedged between it and her heart. ~ Reed's POV ~ Amy A. Bartol

Republicans many times can't get the words 'equality of opportunity' out of their mouths. Their lips do not form that way. ~ Jack Kemp

He leans forward, his lips an inch from mine. And very deeply, very huskily, he whispers, "What do you want, Maximoff? ~ Krista Ritchie

For a kiss to be really good, you want it to mean something. You want it to be with someone you can't get out of your head. So that when your lips finally touch, you feel it everywhere. ~ Alex Kerev

How could I tell him that I now wanted what he had once wanted
to travel on trains and fall in love with girls with dark eyes and extravagant lips? It didn't matter to me if at the end of it I had nothing to show but sore thighs. It wasn't my fault that the life of the wanderer, the wayfarer, had fallen out of favor with the world. So what if it was no longer acceptable to drift with the wind, asking for bread and a roof, sleeping on bales of hay and enjoying dalliances with barefooted farmgirls, then running away before the harvest? This was the life I wanted, blowing around like a leaf with appetites. ~ Steve Toltz

In this atmosphere of wintry desolation and isolation, this slowly, very slowly increasing chill, my hands and lips started to freeze. Had I extinguished the sun? Had I killed the heart of all life? ~ Hermann Hesse

Well, hell, Eve. If you need to run off to you dressmaker, or take your cat to therapy, Peabody and I can handle this minor matter of murder."
Eve lips stretched in a vicious smile. "Bite me, Casto. ~ J.D. Robb

When Gabriel was about Ivo's age," the duchess remarked almost dreamily, staring out at the plum-colored sky, "he found a pair of orphaned fox cubs in the woods, at a country manor we'd leased in Hampshire. Has he told you about that?"
Pandora shook her head, her eyes wide.
A reminiscent smile curved the duchess's full lips. "It was a pair of females, with big ears, and eyes like shiny black buttons. They made chirping sounds, like small birds. Their mother had been killed in a poacher's trap, so Gabriel wrapped the poor th-things in his coat and brought them home. They were too young to survive on their own. Naturally, he begged to be allowed to keep them. His father agreed to let him raise them under the gamekeeper's supervision, until they were old enough to return the f-forest. Gabriel spent weeks spoon-feeding them with a mixture of meat paste and milk. Later on, he taught them to stalk and catch prey in an outside pen."
"How?" Pandora asked, fascinated.
The older woman glanced at her with an unexpectedly mischievous grin. "He dragged dead mice through their pen on a string."
"That's horrid," Pandora exclaimed, laughing.
"It was," the duchess agreed with a chuckle. "Gabriel pretended not to mind, of course, but it was qu-quite disgusting. Still, the cubs had to learn." The duchess paused before continuing more thoughtfully. "I think for Gabriel, the most difficult part of raising them was having to keep his distance, no matter how he loved t ~ Lisa Kleypas

With the blood dripping from her lips, with her blood spattered white dress, and with her pale skin, she is just a horrifyingly lovely and a breathtakingly attractive sixteen-year-old girl living in Hell. Nothing wrong with that, right? ~ Cameron Jace

Dodge, Alyss said, putting a hand to the parrallel scars on his cheek, that brand left so long ago by The Cat. She pressed her lips against each of them
four delicate kisses.
When she pulled away, he was smiling. ~ Frank Beddor

The three-toed sloth lives a peaceful, vegetarian life in perfect harmony with its environment. A good-natured smile is forever on its lips ... I have seen that smile with my own eyes. I am not one given to projecting human traits and emotions onto animals, but many a time during that month in Brazil, looking up at a sloth in repose, I felt I was in the presence of upside-down yogis deep in meditation or hermits deep in prayer, wise beings whose intense imaginative lives were beyond the reach of scientific probing. ~ Yann Martel

I pulled, allowing her body to slide down mine. I kept my hands at her waist to slow her descent. The shifting of her body against mine was heavenly. She sucked in a breath, and when our faces were level, her eyes were not narrowed, but closed. Her lips weren't pursed, but her bottom lip was caught between her teeth in a way that made my mouth dry. Her cheeks were still flushed, but I had a feeling it wasn't about anger anymore.
"You did that on purpose," she said.
I laughed, and it came out raspy. She wasn't the only one affected by our closeness. "I definitely did that on purpose. I think we should make this a post-show ritual actually. ~ Cora Carmack

Every woman knows the art of saying no with the lips and yes with the rest ~ Marcello Mastroianni

Happiness is having your very first hickey, put there by a set of soft lips that speak the smoothest words that sound like music to your ears and whispers to your soul. ~ J.M. Darhower

Al, close your eyes." He swallows. His eyes look excited and terrified at the same time.
He closes his own and leans towards me, his hands on the blanket, supporting the weight of his upper body. I lean in too until I can feel his breath on my lips. My hands are now joined in my lap. My eyes are still open. I want the memory of this moment burned in my mind forever. ~ V. Anton

I want to kiss the shit out of her right now.
"Are we really going to do this?" she whispers.
I can't help what I do next. Moving fast, I skim my mouth over hers, superfast, just one fleeting caress of our lips, but it's everything.
Everything. ~ Siobhan Davis

And," I continued, "I'm probably going to be a bitch most of the time. I guarantee I'll find a reason to yell at you almost every day, and don't be surprised if a few drinks get dumped on you from time to time. That's just me, and you're going to have to deal with it. Because I'm not changing for you or anyone else. And I-"
Wesley slid off his bar stool and pressed his lips against mine before the words could get out. My heart pounded as every thought vacated my mind. One of his arms encircled my waist, pulling me as close to him as possible, and his free hand cupped my face, his thumb tracing my cheekbone. He kissed me so passionately I thought we would catch on fire.
It wasn't until after he pulled away, both of us in need of some air, that I could think straight again.
"You jerk!" I yelled, pushing him away from me. "Kissing me to make me shut up? God, you're so obnoxious. I could just throw something at you right now."
Wesley hopped onto his bar stool with a big grin, and I suddenly remembered him telling me that I was sexy when I was mad at him. Go figure. "Excuse me, Joe," he called to the bartender. "I think Bianca wants a Cherry Coke."
Despite my best efforts, I smiled. He wasn't perfect, or even remotely close, for that matter, but, hey, neither was I. We were both pretty fucked up. Somehow, though, that made everything more exciting. Yeah, it was sick and twisted, but that's reality, right? Escape is impossible, so why not embrace it?
W ~ Kody Keplinger

I think you'd better stay extra alert tonight."

"Okay."

"I'm serious, Jeff. Someone snuck up on both Hampton and Martin, and neither of them are shirkers."

He grins. "You're worried for me, aren't you?"

"Course I am."

"Know what I think?"

I scowl at him, which only widens his grin.

He steps closer, puts a hand to my chin, and lifts it so I can't avoid his gaze. "I think you're in love with me," he says.

I stare at his lips. What comes out of my mouth is: "Jefferson McCauley Kingfisher, you have the swagger of a rooster and the swelled head of a melon. ~ Rae Carson

From high Meonia's rocky shores I came, Of poor decsent, Acoetes is my name, My sire was measly born: no oxen ploughed, His fruitful fields, nor in his pastures lowed, His whole estate within the waters lay' With lines and hooks he caught the finny prey; His art was all his livelehood, which he Thus with his dying lips bequeathed to me: In streams, my boy, and rivers take thy chance; There swims', said he, Thy whole inheritance. ~ Ovid

He crowded right up into her space, pressed his body against hers - trapping her against the glass of the door behind her, plunged his hands into her hair until he was cupping the nape of her neck, and devoured her lips with his. ~ Laura Kaye

There's nothing about you that's fake. Not even on the inside." His eyes finally closed for good, leaving just a wry smile on his lips. "That's why you're so beautiful." I ~ S.D. Hendrickson

He placed the tip of his fingers on her chin and tilted her head up to his. Rylan slowly closed her eyes as she felt his breathing quicken. The chill of his lips as they pressed against hers made her buckle at the knees, falling even further into him. ~ Courtney Giardina

A single twist of white-blonde hair blew across her face and stuck to her half-frozen lips. When she noticed me, the edges of her eyes crinkled as though she were smiling, as if she had been waiting. ~ Julia Ember

I can read lips. Especially if they have words tattooed on them. ~ Jarod Kintz

Every answer he [President John Adams] gives to his addressers unmasks more and more his principles and views. His language to the young men at Philadelphia is the most abominable and degrading that could fall from the lips of the first magistrate of an independent people, and particularly from a Revolutionary patriot. ~ James Madison

I'm sure you remember our first encounter, the morning in the kitchen in North Carolina, and what a disaster it turned out to be," Carmine said.

"What you don't know, though, is that as we sat like idiots in that puddle of juice, all I could think about was how beautiful you were. How beautiful you are. You were scared and confused, and I know I wasn't helping that, but underneath it all you were just beautiful, Haven. You had me the very first time I laid eyes on you. I remember thinking later that morning you were going to complicate my life." He paused as he laughed to himself. "And complicate it you did. Everything I knew, everything I believed . . . all of it went out the window. You turned me upside down and made me feel again. You saved my life, even though I didn't realize it needed to be saved. I thought I was fine, that I didn't need anyone else, but I was wrong, because I do. I need you. Christ, I - "

He grasped her chin gently and leaned forward, her eyes drifting closed as their lips came together. His kiss was sweet but there was passion behind it . . . passion she looked forward to feeling for the rest of her life. ~ J.M. Darhower

I'm so sorry. I don't think the etiquette manuals cover this sort of situation." He leaned in close, his lips all but grazing her neck, and inhaled. "Mmm. You smell good, too."
She nearly choked. Took a step backwards, until her back met cold stone. "Th-thank you."
"That's better. May I kiss you?" His finger dipped into her shirt collar, stroking the tender nape of her neck.
"I d-don't th-think that's a good idea."
"Why not? We're alone." His hands were at her waist.
Her lungs felt tight and much too small. "Wh-what if somebody comes in?"
He considered for a moment. "Well, I suppose they'll think I fancy grubby little boys. ~ Y.S. Lee

I know I found his lips and let him caress me without realizing that I, too, was crying and didn't know why. That dawn, and all the ones that followed in the two weeks I spent with Julian, we made love to one another on the floor, never saying a word. Later, sitting in a cafe or strolling through the streets, I would look into his eyes and know, without any need to question him, that he still loved Penelope. I remember that during those days I learned to hate that seventeen-year-old girl (for Penelope was always seventeen to me) whom I had never met and who now haunted my dreams. I invented excuses for cabling Cabestany to prolong my stay. I no longer cared whether I lost my job or the grey existence I had left behind in Barcelona. I have often asked myself whether my life was so empty when I arrived in Paris that I fell into Julian's arms - like Irene Marceau's girls, who, despite themselves, craved for affection. ~ Carlos Ruiz Zafon

If you would only be willing to take the time to truly get to know me. I know that we would spawn beautiful offspring together, my lovely Jazz.I could give you riches you can only imagine. I have much to offer a beauty like you." She felt her smile tremble on her lips, then lost her hard-won control. "I would rather eat dead rotting flesh," she replied, her disgust winning out over her fear of insulting him.
His eyes lit up at her words and bright-red gas literally crawled up his back making the dead fish scent of the wharves smell like French perfume. "You do not know my kind as well as you pretend to, my sexy Jazz. You just spoke of our most popular aphrodisiac. ~ Linda Wisdom

He pulled the gun from his waist, running it along my cheek and back down to my lips. I blinked back the tears at sick game. He finally stopped the gun at my temple, my pulse fighting against the pressure of the cold metal of the gun.
"Do you think you are a good person, Kendall?"
"No, not at all," I said, swallowing down the misery of my honest answer.
"Really?" he asked, one eyebrow lifting in confusion. "Are you afraid to die?"
I wished I could spit in his face for making everything so hard. I wished he would just pull the trigger and end it already. But a small part of me was begging and pleading internally that he wouldn't shoot me.
"No, I'm not afraid to die," I admitted, I closed my eyes and the tears fell quickly. "I'm not afraid of much in life. I've seen too much to be scared."
He let out a sigh. I opened my eyes. He pulled the gun away from me.
"Well, damn. How the hell am I supposed to kill someone so miserable?"
I looked away. Even in death I was pitiful. ~ Holly Hood

Struggling with frozen expressions and tightly compressed lips. Everyone wore black padded jackets in a kind of mournful uniformity, and battled the same bladed wind that swept across the open spaces, their fists jammed into pockets, their heads resolutely down. ~ Gail Jones

You don't tip before I've delivered the service, mate." I may be a prostitute but I don't accept payment when I haven't worked for it. I'll be vulnerable to peculiar demands later on. "I want you to have it." Ali shifts his feet uncomfortably. He gazes at me for a long moment, seemingly debating what to say. "I...I want us to have sex as though we're making love." Making love? Jaysus. I scratch my head. I am at a loss why the words scare me. It's not like I don't understand what it's about, theoretically. "Okay. You mean more kisses and shit?" Ali laughs. "And shit." His face lights up and he looks about ten years younger. "Like cuddles." Cuddles. Hugs. Kisses. Luxuries for other people. Sex has been only sex to me in the last few years. I guess grown-ups sometimes need some tender loving care. Fuck knows why Ali wants that from me, but if it's what he fancies, it's not the weirdest request I've ever heard. "'Course. The customer is always right." A frown appears briefly on his handsome face. I take his hand and lead him into the bedroom. We are still standing when I start kissing him, slowly at first as if I need to taste his lips and savour them. All the while, I try to think of him
as someone I want. Strangely, it turns me on more than I care to admit. As I undress him, each small button of his shirt I undo brings expectation that thrills me. His strong hands seem too big for the same task, but they are delicate at the same time with the act of revealing my body. Soon ~ A. Zukowski

To behold Queen Gwenhwyvar and the Lady of the Lake together was to peer too long into the sun's brilliant dazzle, to feel the heart lurch in the breast for yearning, to have the words stolen from the tongue before the lips could speak them. ~ Stephen R. Lawhead

There was a deliberate voluptuousness that was both thrilling and repulsive.
And as she arched her neck she actually licked her lips like an animal till I could see in the moonlight the moisture
Then lapped the white, sharp teeth.
Lower and lower went her head. I closed my eyes in a languorous ecstasy and waited. ~ Bram Stoker

A knock at the door pulled me from my thoughts. I opened it, expecting to see Gupta, but it was Amar. His expression looked carved in stone and his lips were set in a grim line. But the moment we held each other's gaze, something in him relented. His hands tightened at his side.
"I would never want to cause you pain."
I flinched. "I am not in pain."
Lie.
"I am not some animal you wounded," I added.
Truth.
"It is only a night longer," he said.
The warning voice from the halls echoed back to me: You are running out of moon time. Listen to my warning rhyme. What would happen tomorrow?
Amar hesitated, before reaching out to hold my hand. I stared at the circlet of my hair around his wrist. Bitterness rose in my throat. I glanced from my bracelet to the other one on his wrist--black leather and knotted--dull and malevolent.
"Do these past days mean nothing?" he asked, so gently that my weak self curled around his words.
But I would no longer be weak. I tapped into that power in my veins and a shimmering wall of flames sprang up between us. Amar jumped back, shocked and then…amused.
"A little ruthlessness is to be admired, but it's cruel to play with a powerless heart. ~ Roshani Chokshi

Suddenly his lips twitched. "I can feel you looking at me," he said in the softest wake up voice I'd ever heard. "I only hope you're a girl and not one of the drunken guys." My breath caught in my chest. I jerked my hand from him. Not taking his arm away from his face yet, he reached dowm with his other hand. And slowly ran his palm over my naked thigh in the direction of my bum. "Yep, definitely female," he purred. In panic, I held his hand in place. "Move another inch, Hunter, and you're a dead man."
"Matthews? ~ Anna Katmore