Rubs Quotes

He's that senior offensive lineman I told you about who's coming off the injured reserve list. Anyway, Coach is concerned that he won't be ready to play at full--"
Mimi drops her head on the bar and starts to snore out loud. Very loud. So loud that a couple of patrons stop and stare at us.
"Mimi," I say in a low voice, "what the hell?"
She pops her head back up and rubs her eyes as if she just woke up from a catnap. "Oh my God, I'm so sorry, Katy. I was just so bored I fell right to sleep while you were talking about sports. Again. For like the millionth time. ~ Barbie Bohrman

Overdone lipstick is a deterrent to men. It rubs off easily onto their skin and the edges of their shirts, so it discourages them from kissing, touching, and coming closer to you, which is what they really want to do! ~ Helen Fisher

Time plays no role in the life of one man - the subtle consciousness of it floating past me is more than enough. Years, months, days, hours, minutes, seconds - what does it matter? Floating by, it rubs against my skin, face, and hair - wearing me down, yet polishing me all the while. Time is like fine grains of sand in a desert storm. At first, you don't pay any attention to it, but the more it hits you in the face, the more aware of it you become, the more annoying it gets until, one day, you find yourself suffocating. The weight of it eventually bends your spine, until you are crawling on your hands and knees, unable to stand straight. Then comes the time to crawl back into the womb, crawl inside and wait for rebirth. ~ Henry Martin

So if we're all quarks and electrons ... " he begins.
What?"
We could make love and it would be nothing more than quarks and electrons rubbing together."
Better than that," I say. "Nothing really 'rubs together' in the microscopic world. Matter never really touches other matter, so we could make love without any of our atoms touching at all. Remember that electrons sit on the outside of atoms, repelling other electrons. So we could make love and actually repel each other at the same time. ~ Scarlett Thomas

No one believes he is an idiot until the consequences of his actions prove it. Then hindsight rubs it in. ~ Richelle E. Goodrich

My eyes are so close together that when I cross my eyes, my irises actually trade places. My skin is so craterous that Neil Armstrong annually rubs my face just to reminisce about his time on the moon. And my nose is so long that my penis is jealous. But enough about how handsome I am. ~ Jarod Kintz

What rubs off on me is hard to rub off. So, I'd better figure out what I rubbing up against. ~ Craig D. Lounsbrough

The DSS offices are not given enough funding, their staff are poorly paid and are driven to distraction by the amount of work they have to do. There is frequent turnover of staff. Morale is extremely low. Working with desperate people all day is very dispiriting; their unhappiness rubs off on you. ~ Sue Townsend

Doesn't look like much, does he?" murmurs Frederick. "Hardly a couple of ounces of feathers and bones. But that bird can fly to Africa and back. Powered by bugs and worms and desire."
The wagtail hops from twig to twig. Werner rubs his aching eyes. It's just a bird.
"Ten thousand years ago," whispers Frederick, "they came through here in the millions. When this place was a garden, one endless garden from end to end. ~ Anthony Doerr

Hey," he says.
I feel foolish for being out of breath and standing over him. The moonlight cuts a line down my chest. "Hey," I say.
"Checking on me?"
"I couldn't sleep. Scottie. She's in the bathroom." I stop talking.
"Yeah?" he says and sits up.
"She's playacting." I don't know how to say it. I don't need to say it. "She's kissing the mirror."
"Oh," he says. "I used to do some messed-up things as a kid. Still do."
I feel wide awake, which always makes me angry in the middle of the night. I'm useless without sleep. I can't get myself to go back to my own room. I sit on the end of the bed by his feet. "I'm worried about my daughters," I say. "I'm worried there's something wrong with them."
Sid rubs his eyes.
"Forget it," I say. "Sorry for waking you up."
"It's going to get worse," he says. "After your wife dies." He holds the blanket up to his chin. ~ Kaui Hart Hemmings

My ears perked up like a dog's again when she spoke and pointed in the general direction of the chick that smelled of Slim Jims.
I hope I don't start barking.
"Oh, please, like she doesn't know about the smell of meat products wafting from her lady parts. I think she rubs bologna down there to attract men. Lunch meat is her sex pheromone."
The brunette shook her head in irritation. "If I do a shot, will you please stop talking about Jade's disgusting vagina and never, ever use the word meat product in a sentence?"
"Woof!"
Three sets of eyes all turned to look at me.
"Did I just bark out loud?"
Three heads bobbed up and down in unison. ~ Tara Sivec

I didn't mean to mess things up, I don't know what got into me-"
He rubs his temples. "Please don't apologize.It's not your fault."
"But if I hadn't dragged you out to dance-"
"Anna." Etienne speaks slowly. "You didn't make me do anything I didn't want to do."
My face grows hot as the knowledge explodes inside of me like dynamite.
He likes me.Etienne really does like me. ~ Stephanie Perkins

An idea can turn to dust or magic, depending on the talent that rubs against it. ~ William Bernbach

Take them off," I order and without hesitation she removes them and drops them on the floor. She lifts her cami so I can see her, then rubs her hand over her tummy and over the top of her mound while she watches me. When I look into her eyes she's licking her lips.
"Do you like what you see?" she asks playfully.
"You know I do."
"Good. When you apologize, you can have some."
Oh, hell no. "Let me remind you, as your husband and your Master, I don't need your permission. I'll have some with or without an apology, but because I love you and because it was a shitty thing for me to accuse you of, I'll apologize anyway. So for what's worth - I'm sorry for accusing you of hitting on Sawyer. I love you. Now open your legs like a good wife and let me fuck you. ~ Ella Dominguez

Acting is something I love. It's a great craft that I have a lot of respect for. But I don't think it's any greater challenge than teaching 8-year-olds or any other career. In my life, I try not to make it more important than it is and I just hope that rubs off on the people around me. ~ Hugh Jackman

The way she always stared at Leo was kind of disturbing. She twirled a lock of her wavy hair around a finger and batted her long, curly eyelashes at him. Once, in Chem class, Leo's Chap Stick dropped out of his pocket and rolled across the floor without him noticing. Carrie picked it up. Later, I saw her pop the lid off, sniff it, and then rub it over her lips. She had this weird look on her face, a bit like when Buffalo Bill tossed the bottle of Jergens down to his victim in Silence of the Lambs. I half expected her to moan, "It rubs the Chap Stick on its lips. ~ Leah Marie Brown

There will be little rubs and disappointments everywhere, and we are all apt to expect too much; but then, if one scheme of happiness fails, human nature turns to another; if the first calculation is wrong, we make a second better: we find comfort somewhere. ~ Jane Austen

By obliging men to turn their attention to other affairs than their own, it rubs off that private selfishness which is the rust of society. ~ Alexis De Tocqueville

I wonder if he still hates me," Silas says as the cat edges out from the couch, pale green eyes like little limes in the dark. As if to answer Silas's question, Screwtape takes a flying leap onto his lap and begins to purr wildly.
"I'm not falling for this anymore," Silas says firmly. He moves to push Screwtape away, but as soon as his palms are within a few inches of Screwtape's wild fur, the cat extends his claws into Silas's thighs. Silas winces and muffles a yelp.
"Need some help?" I say, trying to hide my laughter.
"That'd be great," he answered tensely. I hurry over and scoop Screwtape into my arms. The cat instantly melts against me and rubs his face against mine, the scent of catnip on his breath. I crinkle my nose.
"Thanks." Silas sighs in relief. "I can hunt wolves, but it's a cat I can't handle. Not terrible manly of me, is it?"
"I won't tell anyone," I answer with a soft smile that he returns. ~ Jackson Pearce

Not everything you hear about yourself can be considered good publicity. And if you have delicate sensibilities, the currycomb of public imagination frequently rubs your vanities the wrong way. ~ Corra May Harris

Emma laughed, even though she wanted to cry and scream and run away all at the same time. Jake put his arms around her, and she felt calmer. He has a mellowness that rubs off on people, Emma has noticed. But it's not just being mellow. There is something kind about him. He knows when people need him, she thinks. He knows that she needs him. ~ Thomas Fahy

As the character changes in the movie, it rubs off on the viewer, so the viewer also goes through that change. ~ Eckhart Tolle

Have you ever witnessed the anger of the good shopkeeper, James Goodfellow, when his careless son has happened to break a pane of glass? If you have been present at such a scene, you will most assuredly bear witness to the fact that every one of the spectators, were there even thirty of them, by common consent apparently, offered the unfortunate owner this invariable consolation – "It is an ill wind that blows nobody good. Everybody must live, and what would become of the glaziers if panes of glass were never broken?"

Now, this form of condolence contains an entire theory, which it will be well to show up in this simple case, seeing that it is precisely the same as that which, unhappily, regulates the greater part of our economical institutions.

Suppose it cost six francs to repair the damage, and you say that the accident brings six francs to the glazier's trade – that it encourages that trade to the amount of six francs – I grant it; I have not a word to say against it; you reason justly. The glazier comes, performs his task, receives his six francs, rubs his hands, and, in his heart, blesses the careless child. All this is that which is seen.

But if, on the other hand, you come to the conclusion, as is too often the case, that it is a good thing to break windows, that it causes money to circulate, and that the encouragement of industry in general will be the result of it, you will oblige me to call out, "Stop there! Your theory is confined ~ Frederic Bastiat

The roar of the traffic, the passage of undifferentiated
faces, this way and that way, drugs me into dreams; rubs the
features from faces. People might walk through me. And what is
this moment of time, this particular day in which I have found
myself caught? The growl of traffic might be any uproar - forest trees or
the roar of wild beasts. Time has whizzed back an inch or two on its reel;
our short progress has been cancelled. I think also that our bodies are in truth
naked. We are only lightly covered with buttoned cloth; and beneath these
pavements are shells, bones and silence. ~ Virginia Woolf

How are you feeling?"
She rubs the back of her neck. "Stupid question."
"Well, ask me and I'll tell you I'm fucking great. ~ Courtney Summers

Let me tell you something. I'm a funny girl, and I gave birth to what? Funny. I can't help it. It just is what it is, and my kids have been around my antics so long, it kind of rubs off a little bit. So when it comes to what you see, you only see what is really manifesting in our lives at the time. ~ Niecy Nash

But Jesus is talking about God becoming king in order to explain the things he himself is doing. He isn't pointing away from himself to God. He is pointing to God in order to explain his own actions. In case we miss the point, Mark rubs it in by having Jesus command the wind and the sea to be still, and they obey him: ~ Tom Wright

He rubs his hand through his thick, dark hair and I am riveted by the cords of rippling muscles that intertwine and gallop down his arms. ~ Jennifer Martucci

She rubs my back and sighs.
Jesus Abby, I'm so sorry. If I didn't know any better, I'd say you're still hung up on him. Big time. ~ Annie Brewer

The really destructive feature of their relationship is its inherent quality of boredom. It is quite natural for Peter often to feel bored with Otto - they have scarecely a single interest in common - but Peter, for sentimental reasons, will never admit that this is so. When Otto, who has no such motives for pretending, says, "It's so dull here!" I invariably see Peter wince and looked pained. Yet Otto is actually far less often bored than Peter himself; he finds Peter's company genuinely amusing, and is quite glad to be with him most of the day. Often, when Otto has been chattering rubbish for an hour without stopping, I can see that Peter really longs for him to be quiet and go away. But to admit this would be, in Peter's eyes, a total defeat, so he only laughs and rubs his hands, tacitly appealing to me to support him in his pretense of finding Otto inexhaustibly delightful and funny. ~ Christopher Isherwood

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

She rubs my back and speaks in hushed tones that tell lies.
'It's all right, baby. It's all right. ~ Angie Thomas

That it does." I smile warmly. He rubs his nose against mine, Eskimo-style. "I just thought it would ~ Samantha Towle

A moment later, as he pulls away from the curb, I'm assuming the ride to school will be awkward with my sister in the back. It's confirmed when she asks, "So what's the deal with you and my sister?"
He laughs shortly and rubs the back of his neck like something is there, tickling, tapping.
"Tamra." Clutching the dashboard, I turn and glare at her. "There is no deal."
She snorts. "Well, we wouldn't be sitting here if that was the case now, would we?"
I open my mouth to demand she end the interrogation when Will's voice stops me.
"I like your sister. A lot."
I look at him dumbly.
He looks at me, lowers his voice to say, "I like you."
I know that, I guess, but heat still crawls over my face. I swing forward in my seat, cross my arms over my chest and stare straight ahead. Can't stop shivering. Can't speak. My throat hurts too much.
"Jacinda," he says.
"I think you've shocked her," Tamra offers, then sighs. "Look, if you like her, you have to make it legit. I don't want everyone at school whispering about her like she's some toy you get your kicks with in a stairwell."
Now I really can't speak. My blood burns. I already have one mother doing her best to control my life. I don't need my sister stepping in as mother number two.
I know," he says. "That's what I'm trying to do now - if she'll let me."
I feel his gaze on the side of my face. Anxious. Waiting. I look at him. A breath shudders from me at the intensity in h ~ Sophie Jordan

No, I need to feed her." She rubs her breasts and winces a little. "They hurt because I didn't give her enough time when we were on the road. I need to nurse or they'll start leaking." Holy fucking shit. I just got insta-hard. "Leaking? ~ J.A. Huss

It's been what – eleven years?" he says, his voice quieter now.

"Twelve." I swallow.

"Twelve. Christ, yeah, right." He runs his hand through his hair. "You look different ... but the same – you know," he shrugs.

"I know," I smile. "You look different too." I gesture to the tattoos on his arms.

He grins down at them, then back at me.

"But still the same." I point my finger to the freckles on his nose.

Surprised by how much my fingers are itching to touch him, I draw my hand back.

He rubs his hand over his nose. "Yeah, no getting rid of them."

"I always liked them."

"Yeah, but you liked the Care Bears, Tru."

I flush. I can't believe he remembers that.

It's crazy that he, Jake Wethers, rock god extraordinaire, remembers that I liked the Care Bears when I was little. ~ Samantha Towle

I could stay here, I thought, make money at the track while she nurses me over the bad moments, rubs oils on my body, cooks for me, talks to me, goes to bed with me. ~ Charles Bukowski

During your life, everything you do and everyone you meet rubs off in some way. Some bit of everything you experience stays with everyone you've ever known, and nothing is lost. That's what is eternal, these little specks of experience in a great, enormous river that has no end. ~ Harriet Doerr

In the hall, Tina whisper hisses, "Retreat! Retreat!" The sounds of heels clip clopping follows before...
stumble crash bang
Mimi laughs her ass off and says, "We have a man down! I repeat. We are a man down!"
Lola laughs hard and yells out, "We're so bad at this! Best mission ever!
The sound of giggles and heels approach my room. I put an arm under my head to elevate it. I want to see what these goofballs are doing. Tina's first through the door and looks sheepish while rubbing her elbow. That is until she see Nat, Helena and Nina all sitting on my bed. Then she yells out, "Pajama party!" And literally throws herself on to my bed, hurt elbow forgotten. She belly flops onto my stomach, My body jolts upwards, the wind is knocked out of me and I groan. Tina looks up at me with wide eyes. She rushed out, "Ash, honey! I'm so sorry!" Then she rubs what she thinks is my stomach. Only its my cock.
Removing her hands from me, I tell her,
"Tina, I don't think Nik would like you in my bed rubbing my junk. ~ Belle Aurora

Mon Kate, qui était à moi, qui n'est plus à moi," he whispers as he kisses me. And then he says it in English. "My Kate, who was mine, who is no longer mine" -- he tiredly rubs his bloodshot eyes -- " because now you belong to fate. ~ Amy Plum

Why do you care, anyway?" I say. "You can be either cruel instructor or concerned boyfriend." I tense up at the word "boyfriend." I didn't mean to use it so flippantly, but it's too late now. "You can't play both parts at the same time."

"I am not cruel." He scowls at me "I was protecting you this morning. How do you think Peter and his idiot friends would have reacted if they discovered that you and I were..." He sighs. "You would never win. They would always call you ranking a result of my favoritism rather than your skill."

I open my mouth to object, but I can't. A few smart remarks come to mind, but I dismiss them. He's right. My cheeks warm, and I cool them with my hands.

"You didn't have to insult me to prove something to them," I say finally.

"And you didn't have to run off to your brother just because I hurt you," he says. He rubs at the back of his neck.

"Besides- it worked, didn't it?"

"At my expense."

"I didn't think it would affect you this way." Then he looks down and shrugs. "Sometimes I forget that I can hurt you. That you are capable of being hurt."

I slide my hands into my pockets and rock back on my heels. A strange feeling goes through me- a sweet, aching weakness. He did what he did because he believed in my strength.

At home it was Caleb who was strong, because he could forget himself, because all the characteristics my parents valued came naturally to him. ~ Veronica Roth

Pissed-off people need back rubs and they also need gym memberships. ~ Augusten Burroughs

Virtue, without the graces, is like a rich diamond unpolished
it hardly looks better than a common pebble; but when the hand of the master rubs off the roughness, and forms the sides into a thousand brilliant surfaces, it is then that we acknowledge its worth, admire its beauty, and long to wear it in our bosoms. ~ Jane Porter

It rubs against me, dipping between my hot lips and makes me whimper with yearning. You remove it dramatically and raise it up, out of my eye line, although I imagine that you are inspecting it.
"Yes, definitely a slut, aren't you?"
"Yes, sir." I reply instantly. My voice sounds needy – already. ~ Felicity Brandon

When a shameful thing is done to you, the shamefulness rubs off on you. You feel dirtied. ~ Margaret Atwood

Every night before bed, I rub my wife's feet. She says they're the best foot rubs on Earth. ~ Luke Bryan

We need a test!" I jump up out of the chair and pat my body down. "Where's my wallet?"

"In your pocket," she replies dryly.

"I'll be back!" I race out of the house and drive the short distance between Dom's estate and the nearest village. After I find a drug store and buy one of each kind of pregnancy test they have, I race back to my hopefully pregnant wife.

"That was fast," she murmurs with a grin. She was still sitting in the lounge chair, sipping her coffee.

"Should you be drinking coffee?" I ask.

"Let's not get crazy," she responds. I need coffee.

"I got one of each kind," I announce and opened the bag, sending small white and blue boxes scattering.

"Uh, Caleb, we only need one."

"What if we can't figure them out?" I ask and pick one up to examine it. "All of the instructions are in Italian."

She laughs hysterically and then stands, wiping her eyes.

"It's not funny."

"Yes, it is. Pregnancy tests are pretty universal, Caleb. You pee on it and a line either appears or it doesn't." She rubs my arm sweetly and kisses my shoulder before plucking the box out of my fingers. "I'll be back."

"I'm coming with you." I begin to follow her but she turns quickly with her hands out to stop me.

"Oh no, you aren't. You are not going to watch me pee on this stick."

I scowled down at her and cross my arms over my chest. "I've helped you b ~ Kristen Proby

Are you sure about this?" I wring my hands. "I was a homeless druggie, a beggar and an escort. I'm prone to breakdowns and poor decisions. Have you picked up strays before and let them into your house?" He laughs, not taking me seriously at all. "I don't give a flying fuck as long as you're here." He rubs my abs to soothe me. "Liam. You make me happy. Life's too short not to grab hold of happiness when it comes knocking at my door." Fuck. He has done it again. Tears surge in my eyes. "And you just seem to make me cry like a fucking twat!" He smiles, comes closer and kisses me. Before I know it, he wraps his arms around my waist and thighs and tries to lift me up and carry me. I am pretty lithe but I'm still too tall and heavy for him. He manages to half-lug, half-drag me up the stairs and into the bedroom while laughing his head off. ~ A. Zukowski

There are moments of silence and smiles and breaths taken away from the chest, wherein you truly feel a deep understanding for your position in your life, in this world, and within the walls of yourself that you call bones and tissue. You madly understand yourself (your thoughts, your desires, what you want to be living for, really) and it's amazing because it is within those moments where you will come to see how very few people should actually be important to your heart and to your path: because your heart and your path are glorious and different and breathtaking and not everyone belongs there with you. We all often feel pangs of loneliness and we clamour to hold onto other people because it has not yet dawned on us, that not everyone we wish to hold onto will fit on our paths with us. If you could come to an understanding of your own space, and what it means to occupy that space, then you would come to know, and to feel, and to realise, that we are not lonely in our hearts because others do not occupy with us; rather, we are painfully lonely in our hearts because we do not occupy our own skin. We do not occupy our own souls. We do not occupy the space we've been given by our own dreams, desires, longings... what makes you cry? What makes you laugh? It doesn't matter if you're the only one who cries or who laughs! What matters is that you fill up your space so full that your soul rubs up against your bones and pushes up against just below the surface of your skin. You will ~ C. JoyBell C.

He rubs his nose ruefully. "We…can't take you home. Yet. We can't take you home yet. But we will. Soon, I mean. Just not yet."

I stare at him for a moment in bewilderment. "That was probably the least articulate anyone in history has ever been," I finally say. ~ Haley Fisher

If my legs are showing, the makeup artist adds a tiny amount of foundation to body lotion and rubs it in. ~ Christina Hendricks

My lady," says Aladdin, extending an arm toward the sun, "I give you gold as a token of my love."
"All I want is you," I reply. I turn and kiss him, pulling him against me, feeling the warmth of the dawn in my hair. Then I rest my head on his shoulder, simply feeling his arms around me, his heart beating against me.
"Are you cold?" asks Aladdin. "You're shivering."
"A little."
"I'll go get a blanket. And breakfast. If I can find the kitchen."
"Galley, love. It's called a galley."
"Right. Galley. Got it. I'll ask the captain. What was his name?"
"Sinbad, I think?"
"I'll be right back."
But I catch his hand. "I'm all right. Don't go yet."
He stays with me, and together we watch the sun stain the sea and sky a thousand and one shades of gold. My thumb rubs the ring on my finger, its dents and contours as familiar to me now as my hand.
So this is what it feels like to have all your wishes come true. ~ Jessica Khoury

Marriage is not comfortable and harmonious. Rather it is a place of individuation where a person rubs up against oneself and against the partner, bumps up against the person in love and in rejection, and in this fashion learns to know oneself, the world, good and evil, the heights and the depths. ~ Adolf Guggenbuhl-Craig

Gray texted me a joke the other day. Want to hear it?"
"Knowing Gray's terrible jokes, probably not. But okay."
He rubs the back of his neck. "What do you call a cow with no legs?"
I caress his waist where muscles ripple. "What?"
"Ground beef. ~ Kristen Callihan

Quote from "The Dish Keepers of Honest House" ....TO TWIST THE COLD is easy when its only water you want. Tapping of the toothbrush echoes into Ella's mind like footsteps clacking a cobbled street on a bitter, dry, cold morning. Her mind pushes through sleep her body craves. It catches her head falling into a warm, soft pillow.
"Go back to bed," she tells herself.
"You're still asleep," Ella mumbles, pushes the blanket off, and sits up.
The urgency to move persuades her to keep routines. Water from the faucet runs through paste foam like a miniature waterfall. Ella rubs sleep-deprieved eyes, then the bridge of her nose and glances into the sink.
Ella's eyes astutely fixate for one, brief millisecond. Water becomes the burgundy of soldiers exiting the drain. Her mouth drops in shock. The flow turns green. It is like the bubbling fungus of flockless, fishless, stagnating ponds.
Within the iridescent glimmer of her thinking -- like a brain losing blood flow, Ella's focus is the flickering flashing of gray, white dust, coal-black shadows and crows lifting from the ground. A half minute or two trails off before her mind returns to reality.
Ella grasps a toothbrush between thumb and index finger. She rests the outer palm against the sink's edge, breathes in and then exhales. Tension in the brow subsides, and her chest and shoulders drop; she sighs. Ella stares at pasty foam. It exits the drain as if in a race to clear the sink of negativity -- of all g ~ Helene Andorre Hinson Staley

The Hotel dining-room, like most of the others I was to find in the Highlands, had its walls covered with pictures of all sorts of wild game, living or in the various postures of death that are produced by sport. Between these pictures the walls were alert with the stuffed heads of deer, furnished with antlers of every degree of magnificence. A friend of mine has a theory that these pictures of dying birds and wounded beasts are intended to whet the diner's appetite, and perhaps they did in the more lusty age of Victoria; but I found they had the opposite effect on me, and had to keep my eyes from straying too often to them. In one particular hotel this idea was carried out with such thoroughness that the walls of its dining room looked like a shambles, they presented such an overwhelming array of bleeding birds, beasts and fishes. To find these abominations on the walls of Highland hotels, among a people of such delicacy in other things, is peculiarly revolting, and rubs in with superfluous force that this is a land whose main contemporary industry is the shooting down of wild creatures; not production of any kind but wholesale destruction. This state of things is not the fault of the Highlanders, but of the people who have bought their country and come to it chiefly to kill various forms of life. ~ Edwin Muir

At Sea Oak there's no sea and no oak, just a hundred subsidized apartments and a rear view of FedEx. Min and Jade are feeding their babies while watching How My Child Died Violently. Min's my sister. Jade's our cousin. How My Child Died Violently is hosted by Matt Merton, a six-foot-five blond who's always giving the parents shoulder rubs and telling them they've been sainted by pain. Today's show features a ten-year-old who killed a five-year-old for refusing to join his gang. The ten-year-old strangled the five-year-old with a jump rope, filled his mouth with baseball cards, then locked himself in the bathroom and wouldn't come out until his parents agreed to take him to FunTimeZone, where he confessed, then dove screaming into a mesh cage full of plastic balls. The audience is shrieking threats at the parents of the killer while the parents of the victim urge restraint and forgiveness to such an extent that finally the audience starts shrieking threats at them too. Then it's a commercial. ~ George Saunders

Can you rework your past, the grit that rubs in you, until it is shiny and smooth as a pearl? ~ Anna Funder

I am fairly tired
bored beyond endurance
by the world we live in, and its ideals, and am ready to say so, not violently, but kindly, as one rubs salt into the back of a flogged sailor as though one loved him. ~ Henry Adams

Let me look at you." I pull away and put my hands on his cheeks, examining his face. Blue eyes, of course. And how could I forget that mouth? Thin pink lips with one crooked corner always suggesting a mocking smile. My God, how had I never noticed before how handsome he is? "You need a haircut."
He rubs the side of his thumb over my cheekbone. "You're beautiful. ~ Cristin Terrill

Tell me, Alice." He rubs something off his trousers. "On a scale from one to insanity, how insane are you? ~ Cameron Jace

'Indiana Jones' wasn't physically tough, but they are the only two films I've ever been ill on. On 'The Last Crusade,' I got sciatica. That's when the sciatic nerve, which goes through the funny hole in your pelvis down your leg, swells and rubs against the nerves. ~ John Rhys-Davies

Will's on the bed on his hands and knees. Patrick pounds into him as he rubs up and down his back over and over. A strange, possessive thought fills him: he's mine now and I have to take good care of him. Patrick ~ Leta Blake

As a consumer, you want to associate with brands whose powerful presence creates a halo effect that rubs off on you. ~ Tom Peters

Maybe it begins the day you pledge allegiance,
face the flag and suddenly clutch your left clavicle
because you find a tender puff of breast
where yesterday your heart was

Or maybe it happens later when you're walking home
from school and they rush you on the street--
those boys who reach out fast, disgrace your blouse
with rubs of dirt, their laughter
stinging hot against your face.
And you bite your rage, swallow your tears
because the fact is, your territory's up for grabs
and somehow it's your own damned fault.

And one day you stand at your mirror
armed with jars and razor blades against the scents
and grasses of your shameless bleeding body,
and you see what you've become--a freak
manufactured to disguise the real one,
the one who sometimes still recalls your innocence,
the time before you became a dirty joke.

And maybe it begins to end the day
you try against the odds to love yourself again.
Even though you know the worst thing
you can call someone is cunt,
you try to love the flesh and fur you are,
that convoluted, prehistoric flower,
petals dripping weeds and echoing
vaguely fragrant odors of the sea. ~ Marilyn Johnson

Spider rubs his eyes in a way that makes it clear that the weight of both life's experience and the immutability of youth's colossal dumbassedness is presently crushing his very soul.
Wise Young Fool ~ Sean Beaudoin

I'm sorry I'm slow."
He brushes my hair over my shoulder. "You're not slow."
I raise an eyebrow.
"I'm serious." When he sees I'm unconvinced, he rubs at his stubble and starts again. "I don't want you to give any more than you want. What makes this special is that you're into it. The moment you aren't, that's where I become a bastard for asking for more. I'm telling you, I've got no problem taking it slow. ~ Katie McGarry

Are you all right?" A crease appears between his eyebrows, and he touches my cheek gently.I bat his hand away.
"Well," I say, "first I got reamed out in front of everyone,and then I had to chat with the woman who's trying to destroy my old faction,and then Eric almost tossed my friends out of Dauntless,so yeah,it's shaping up to be a pretty great day,Four."
He shakes his head and looks at the dilapidated building to his right, which is made of brick and barely resembles the sleek glass spire behind me. It must be ancient.No one builds with brick anymore.
"Why do you care,anyway?" I say. "You can be either cruel instructor or concerned boyfriend." I tense up at the word "boyfriend." I didn't mean to use it so flippantly,but it's too late now. "You can't play both parts at the same time."
"I am not cruel." He scowls at me. "I was protecting you this morning. How do you think Peter and his idiot friends would have reacted if they discovered that you and I were..." He sighs. "You would never win. They would always call your ranking a result of my favoritism rather than your skill."
I open my mouth to object,but I can't. A few smart remarks come to mind, but I dismiss them. He's right. My cheeks warm, and I cool them with my hands.
"You didn't have to insult me to prove something to them," I say finally.
"And you didn't have to run off to your brother just because I hurt you," he says. He rubs at the back of his neck. "Besides-it worked,didn't it ~ Veronica Roth

watching trails of mist swirl about your legs, which reminds you of a neighbor's gray kitten that arches its back, puffs up, and rubs against your ankles. ~ Shane Jiraiya Cummings

Stay close to the young ... and a little rubs off. ~ Alan Jay Lerner

Rowin glances briefly at Farrow's hand on me, then he scribbles on the chart. His eyes land on me for a short second. "You're too sweet to be with someone like Farrow."
Farrow rubs my leg. "You'd be surprised how much of a dick Maximoff is. ~ Krista Ritchie

Holly rubs her temples. "Are we talking ... vampires?"
Arkady groans. "On, the V-word! Here it comes again. ~ David Mitchell

Mr. Bucket and his fat forefinger are much in consultation together under existing circumstances. When Mr. Bucket has a matter of this pressing interest under his consideration, the fat forefinger seems to rise, to the dignity of a familiar demon. He puts it to his ears, and it whispers information; he puts it to his lips, and it enjoins him to secrecy; he rubs it over his nose, and it sharpens his scent; he shakes it before a guilty man, and it charms him to his destruction. ~ Charles Dickens

I love foot rubs, too. I'll take one whenever I can. ~ Torrie Wilson

A dragonfly settles on a bulrush an inch from my nose. Its wings are like cellophane and Jonah says, "Its wings are like cellophane," and I say, "I was just thinking that," but Jonah says, "Just thinking what?" so maybe I just thought he'd said it. Valium rubs out speech marks and pops thought-bubbles. I've noticed it before. ~ David Mitchell

I thought how lovely and how strange a river is. A river is a river, always there, and yet the water flowing through it is never the same water and is never still. It's always changing and is always on the move. And over time the river itself changes too. It widens and deepens as it rubs and scours, gnaws and kneads, eats and bores its way through the land. Even the greatest rivers- the Nile and the Ganges, the Yangtze and he Mississippi, the Amazon and the great grey-green greasy Limpopo all set about with fever trees-must have been no more than trickles and flickering streams before they grew into mighty rivers.
Are people like that? I wondered. Am I like that? Always me, like the river itself, always flowing but always different, like the water flowing in the river, sometimes walking steadily along andante, sometimes surging over rapids furioso, sometimes meandering wit hardly any visible movement tranquilo, lento, ppp pianissimo, sometimes gurgling giacoso with pleasure, sometimes sparkling brillante in the sun, sometimes lacrimoso, sometimes appassionato, sometimes misterioso, sometimes pesante, sometimes legato, sometimes staccato, sometimes sospirando, sometimes vivace, and always, I hope, amoroso.
Do I change like a river, widening and deepening, eddying back on myself sometimes, bursting my banks sometimes when there's too much water, too much life in me, and sometimes dried up from lack of rain? Will the I that is me grow and widen and deepen? Or will I st ~ Aidan Chambers

I've always balked at anything that feels like a clique, even if it's not always in my best interest to do so. I like each individual, fedora-wearing hipster - it's just the greater gestalt that rubs me the wrong way. ~ Michael Showalter

In every room there is a mirror before which he stands attentively and chews his rage, and from the constant chewing, from the grumbling and mumbling and the muttering and cursing his jaws have gotten unhinged and they sag badly and, when he rubs his beard, pieces of his jaw crumble away and he's so disgusted with himself that he stamps on his own jaw, grinds it to bits with his big heels. ~ Henry Miller

After a second, he reaches over and rubs my head playfully, and then pulls me into him. 'Come here,' he says gently. I unbuckle and scoot in close to him. I don't care if this truck full of dials has no airbags and I get killed in a wreck. I'll die happy. He drives slow and careful and we kiss at every stop sign and red light the whole way back to my house. ~ Colleen Clayton

But what is Hope? Nothing but the paint on the face of Existence; the least touch of truth rubs it off, and then we see what a hollow-cheeked harlot we have got hold of. ~ George Gordon Byron

She's unmarried but, as she confided early on to Judy, 'not short of offers'. Nelson often thinks that Jo is not nearly as attractive as she thinks she is but, as with all these things, her insane self-belief rubs off on others, and after a week King's Lynn police were treating her as if she were Helen of Troy. Her technique is divide and rule. ~ Elly Griffiths

I guess my enthusiasm kind of rubs off on people. ~ Margaret Murray

The best training is to learn to accept everything as it comes, as from Him whom our soul loves. The tests are always unexpected things, not great things that can be written up, but the common little rubs of life, silly little nothings, things you are ashamed of minding one scrap ~ Amy Carmichael

The river moves, but it follows a path. When it tires of one journey, it rubs through some rock to forge a new way. Hard work, but that's its nature. ~ Kekla Magoon

How are we going to handle dating and the newspaper?"
He rubs the tension at the base of my neck. "I tell you what to do and you'll ignore me."
"So...like normal?"
"Yeah."
"Sounds good. ~ Jenny B. Jones

Any time some well-meaning person forces you to demonstrate you have no talent and rubs your nose in the fact you're a failure at the only dream you ever had, take another drink. ~ Chuck Palahniuk

There's not someone who tells you how adorable you are and rubs your head and goes into a crowded press conference and stands at the back and winks at you so that you think, 'I can get through this.' ~ Cher

And nevertheless, no, I have nothing to say to them, to my parents. Nothing. Nothing and everything, as always. If I tried – out of boldness, through luck, or in distress – to share with them some of the violence that causes me to be so totally on my own, they would not know where I am, who I am, what it is, in others, that rubs me the wrong way. ~ Julia Kristeva

Are you actually laughing at me? Seriously?" Janie rubs her hair with a towel. "I almost died out there. Plus my brain is now infested with plankton and carp shit. You'd better watch it, or I'll blow a snot rocket at you."
"I'm ... eww. That's disgusting." Cabe laughs. "But seriously, you really should have seen yourself. Right, Megan? I wish I had a video camera. ~ Lisa McMann

I lick my lips as his teeth nibble on my earlobe. Between my muscles melting under his touch, my blood tingling with the teasing of my ear and the way my foot rubs against his calf, my thoughts become hazy.
My shirt rides up and Isaiah rubs his thumb in small circles on the bare skin of my stomach. The sensation causes me to arch my back and Isaiah groans as I kiss his neck. I like these feelings. Actually, I more than like them. They're addicting, and I love how every little thing I do causes Isaiah to kiss and touch me more.
He rolls and I move with him. Our tangled legs become unraveled as my thighs fall open, accepting his weight. Isaiah's body over mine is heavier than I would have imagined, but it's a weight I craved without knowing it.
Isaiah kisses up my neck and when his lips meet mine again, he rocks his hips. Suddenly very aware parts of him are touching very aware parts of me, and my head falls to the side as a new sensation spikes through my body. ~ Katie McGarry

At first I was like, No way am I saying that, but when you hang out with people who are always being supergrateful and appreciating things and saying thank you, in the end it kind of rubs off, and one day after I'd flushed, I turned to the toilet and said, "Thanks, toilet," and it felt pretty natural. I mean, it's the kind of thing that's okay to do if you're in a temple on the side of a mountain, but you'd better not try it in your junior high school washroom, because if your classmates catch you bowing and thanking the toilet they'll try to drown you in it. I explained this to Jiko, and she agreed it wasn't such a good idea, but that it was okay just to feel grateful sometimes, even if you don't say anything. Feeling is the important part. You don't have to make a big deal about it. ~ Ruth Ozeki

Oi didn't loike that bloke, Captain. Bastard, 'e were, but Oi s'pose rules is for them yer don't loike. Yer won't 'urt them as yer do. In't that what God's about, been fair to them as rubs your coat all the wrong way? ~ Anne Perry

Depend upon it, you see but half. You see the evil, but you do not see the consolation. There will be little rubs and disappointments everywhere, and we are all apt to expect too much; but then, if one scheme of happiness fails, human nature turns to another; if the first calculation is wrong, we make a second better: we find comfort somewhere - and those evil–minded observers, dearest Mary, who make much of a little, are more taken in and deceived than the parties themselves. ~ Jane Austen

The trouble with chronic pain is that it is so easy to become accustomed to it, both mentally and physically. At first it's absolutely agonizing; it's the only thing you think about, like a rock in your shoe that rubs your foot raw with every step. Then the constant rubbing, the pain and the limp all become part of the status quo, the occasional stabbing pain just a reminder.
You are so set to endure, hunched against it - and when it starts to ease, you don't really notice, until the absence washes over you like a balm. ~ Robert J. Wiersema

If you're playing a negative character, sooner or later it rubs off on you. Some people don't mind living in that state, but I don't want to be there anymore. I don't want to live in a state of depression. ~ Alan Arkin

Valium rubs out speech marks and pops thought-bubbles. ~ David Mitchell

What happened?" I ask. My heart hurts.
"That big guy," he says. His voice is high and tight. "Number forty-six. Jeez, he just bashed his shoulder right into my chest, and when I was on the ground, he steps on my leg with his cleat." He sniffs hard, rubs his nose on his sleeve, doesn't meet my eyes.
"That bastard," I say. "The minute he gets off the field I'm going to kick him in the balls." Oliver laughs a little, his eyes filling up at the same time. "He'll never know what hit him. His balls are gonna go flying, I promise you that. People will wish they brought their catcher's mitts. ~ Deb Caletti

Consider that the earth is a processing plant, a factory. Picture a tumbler used to polish rocks: a rolling drum filled with water and sand. Consider that your soul is dropped in as an ugly rock, some raw mineral or natural resource, crude oil, mineral ore. And all conflict and pain is the abrasive that rubs us, polishes our soul, refines us, teaches and finishes us over lifetime after lifetime. ~ Chuck Palahniuk

I saw you having a hard time getting across the grass to your car.' He whispers it, like he's telling me secrets.

'You saw that?'

He turns a slight shade of pink, rubs the back of his neck, and stares out of the kitchen window.

'I wasn't spying.' For a moment he looks ten years younger. 'I was hoping to get your attention. You see, I thought we were flirting.'

'Hang on a second.' I'm confused. It's like being introduced to Advanced Calculus all over again. 'You mistook an anxiety attack for flirting? How?' Trying to figure out which part of my harpooned-squid impression could be considered anything other than tragic. ~ Louise Gornall

As for your back rubs ... Study an anatomy book, pal, because what you've been rubbing isn't my back. ~ Susan Elizabeth Phillips