Sexy Arms Quotes

It was my scientific opinion that Zach was one of those people who used his intelligence to make sure that no one knew exactly how intelligent he was (a tendency Macy tells me is common among boys with really sexy arms). ~ Ally Carter

If God had intended us not to masturbate, He would have made our arms shorter. ~ George Carlin

Violence is a very ugly thing. Violence is often so casual on film, and made to look so cool and so sexy, but violence is a repulsive, repugnant act that human beings inflict on each other. It shouldn't seem to be cool and sexy, ever really. ~ James Purefoy

No name, no number, but she remembered him, his eyes the color of shadow, his arms the shape of oblivion, a voice lulling her, beckoning her into the surf. His name was Brad or Tom or Steve ... or was it Rick? Ten years ago his voice had been the same, supplicating and tender with the promise of fairytale. ~ V.S. Kemanis

So when a little girl asks her father where the moon came from, he might tell her that the moon circles around the earth and reflects light from the sun. He might tell her that the moon likes to play hide-and-seek with the sun, so sometimes the moon looks like it's peeking out from behind a black curtain; sometimes all you can see is the top of its head, and sometimes you can't even see it at all! He might tell her about how the moon has invisible arms that can pull the oceans back and forth, making tides rise and fall. He might tell her that astronauts have walked on the moon and played golf on the moon and collected rocks from the moon. He might tell her that the moon has dimples and craters and basins that we can see only with a telescope and that there's a special place on the moon called the Sea of Tranquility that isn't really a sea. Then the father might take the little girl outside, hoist her up onto his shoulders, and let her stare at the moon for a while. He might recite a poem about a cow jumping over the moon or sing a song about a dreamy-eyed kid slow-dancing with it. Soon the little girl will become so lost in her father's beautiful stories that she will forget she ever had a question to begin with. ~ Rachel Held Evans

He laughs and then encloses his arms around me, drawing me in for a hug. And if you need anything, you can call me. I'll always be here for you. ~ Jessica Sorensen

It's all right, I got off the ship okay. I'm alive," he said again. But his voice sounded different now. "I said I'm alive, Camille. Open your eyes and look at me."
Camille's heart shriveled as her eyelids fluttered open and she saw the ceiling of Monty's shack.
"Camille?" Oscar leaned over her, his calloused hand on her cheek. "Thank God. You've been delirious for nearly an hour."
Tears slipped down her cheeks as the truth stung her with renewed vigor. Her father wasn't alive. He was truly gone. It had been nothing but a hallucination.
"Why are you crying? Does something hurt?" Oscar asked, lightly prodding her arms and then checking her head. She was lying on a cot in front of the blazing stove, blankets covering her. They were scratchy and too heavy. She tried to push them away.
"No." Oscar blocked her arms. "Don't do that."
"Why?" she asked, her throat dry and sore.
Oscar looked apprehensive as he tucked the blankets tightly around her arms and neck. "Your clothes were soaked. You were shivering and flush with fever."
"Had to take 'em off, love," Ira said, coming to the foot of the cot. "You gave us quite a scare. That lump on the back of your head worked you over something nasty."
Camille stared at Ira, then Oscar. The crushed hope of her father being alive withered under the heat of embarrassment.
"You…you removed my dress?" she whispered. Oscar backed away from her, as if he'd just slid his hand over an open flame.
Angie Frazier

It is part of the general pattern of misguided policy that our country is now geared to an arms economy which was bred in an artificially induced psychosis of war hysteria and nurtured upon an incessant propaganda of fear. ~ Douglas MacArthur

And I want you to know that I heard what you said in that speech,' Rider said, his voice scratchy. 'I might've saved you all those years ago, but now you've saved me,'
My heart stuttered and then sped up. I reacted without thought. Placing the book on the bed, I launched myself at Rider just as he came off the window seat. We collided. I folded my arms around him as we went down onto the floor, me partially in his lap and his arms tight around my waist, his face burrowed against my neck. I felt a tremor run through his body and then he shook in my arms. I held him tighter as he broke into pieces, and years of holding it together shattered. I held him through it all.
Then it was me who put Rider back together. ~ Jennifer L. Armentrout

Father God, we just ask You to open Your wide, wide arms and look down upon us, Lord, and lead us, and let us know what we should do to stop this, this terrible, terrible holocaust. ~ Norma McCorvey

Not a single object seems to possess a practical use. The antechamber itself seems useless, a sort of vestibule to a barn, It is exactly the same sort of sensation I get when I enter the Comedie-Francaise or the Palaise- Royal Theatre; ; it is a world of bric-a-brac, of trap doors, of arms and busts and waxed floors, of candelabras and men in armor, of statues without eyes and love letters lying in glass cases. Something is going on, but it makes no sense; it's like finishing the half-empty bottle of Calvados because there's no room in the valise. ~ Henry Miller

Pretty words," Brooke said, dropping her arms so they laid limply at her sides. "But even the prettiest song can lose its intended meaning if it is repeated constantly. ~ Heather C. Myers

She slipped into the shadows and waited, like a she-wolf, for her quarry.
Bay caught her breath when Owen Blackthorne stepped into the cool night air. He was close enough to touch. His shaggy black hair looked rumpled, as though he'd shoved both hands through it in agitation. When he started to move off the porch, Bay reached out and grasped his sleeve.
A second later she was slammed back against the wall, a powerful male hand at her throat choking her. She could feel the heat of him, the solid maleness of him. And panicked. She clawed at Owen's flesh with her nails and drove her knee upward toward his genitals. Her thrust her upraised knee aside, and the full weight of his over-six-foot frame shoved hard against her from shoulders to thighs.
Bay froze, staring up at him in mute horror. Her body trembled in shock. She tried to speak, but there was no air to be had beneath the crushing pressure of his grip on her throat.
"What the hell . . .?" He released her throat and grabbed her arms to yank her into the narrow stream of light from the kitchen doorway.
She gasped a breath of air, coughed, then gasped another, pressing a shaky hand to her injured throat. She wrenched to free herself, but he let her go without a struggle and took a wary step back. She rubbed her arms where he'd held her, wishing she'd approached him more directly.
"What are you doing out here, Mizz Creed?" His voice was clipped but controlled. The violence she'd felt in his touc ~ Joan Johnston

I like you like this. The way it should be. Safe in my arms. ~ Amanda Carlson

I am who I am. There's no facade. No put-on. And being voted sexiest doesn't concern me. Maybe that's the sexy part. ~ Gerard Way

arms wide and said, 'That's a question ~ Catherine Cookson

I slipped my arms around his waist, hooking my fingers behind his back, and he held me to him, smiling down at me.

I put my chin to his chest. "I'm only hugging you because those cougars over there have their eye on you," I lied. "It's my duty as your friend to protect you from impending cougar attacks."

He chuckled. "Thanks for clearing that up. I was afraid for a second there you were hugging me for real."

I would do everything with you. For real. ~ Abby Jimenez

An individual man is a fruit which it cost all the foregoing ages to form and ripen. He is strong, not to do, but to live; not in his arms, but in his heart; not as an agent, but as a fact. ~ Ralph Waldo Emerson

Knight was walking to me; dark gray, drawstring pajama bottoms on, long-ish hair sexy messy from sleep, chest with its enticing array of dark hair bared, eyes on me. ~ Kristen Ashley

I was working from home at the time and sometimes indulged in a little wander around my yard, a hard reset before I got back to work. Today, however, I had ignored the nice weather and instead put my head on my desk, forehead pressed to the Formica and arms covering my skull.

I had joked with one of my yoga-loving co-workers that I was developing a series of poses that we could do at our desks. A head-in-hands slump over galleys called "Drudge's Hunch". The arms overhead seated stretch called "Fluorescent Salutation". The hand out position used to catch the fire door so it didn't slam and bother everyone. That was "Worrier's Pose".

My current pose was called "Nuclear Fallout". ~ Kory Stamper

You know what I wish? I wish I could put time in a bottle and throw it into the ocean. Then I would have forever to spend with you. I wouldn't need air to breathe or food to eat. Holding you in my arms would be all the food I would need. Having your love would be the only air I would need to breathe. ~ Lynn Austin

I woke in his arms and I knew I'd never be happier than I was in this moment. I watched his chest rise and fall as he slept peacefully next to me. As I relished in this tranquility, the sight of his body stirred me once again. My heart was attached and I knew I was ruined. It was a lesson I knew all too well, when you love, you hurt... they were two sides of the same coin. ~ Brynn Myers

Sexy, to me, doesn't have anything to do with beautiful. ~ Shane West

There is law enough all about us
in almanack and season, anniversary
days come round, the round earth's carnivale
of chimes and recessionals.
Good to be included
there. Good also what is not
fixed or sure even,
the second breath of being
here when the May-bush
snows in mid-September, as giddy
happenstance leads us
this way into
a lost one's arms, or that way
deeper into the maze. ~ David Malouf

If we are to follow the Jesus who suffered with us and bled for us, we too must suffer. We must hold the dying in our arms. We must shed tears for hungry stomachs, trafficked children, and wandering souls. This is what He wants for us. It's the reason we are called to lay down our nets and take up our crosses to pursue the Suffering Servant. And it's the one thing we will avoid at all costs.
It is not enough to feel bad. Religion to me, has always been the routine of feeling guilty for all the things we should do but don't. We must act. This is where life happens, where we begin to participate in our stories. This is when we awaken. Not on the sidelines; not on the outside looking in. Life is lived right in the midst of all this mess. Incidentally, that's where mercy and the miraculous are found. That's where flowers begin to grow again. ~ Jeff Goins

Please Say A Prayer For All Who are Broken Hearted And Grief In Despair. May They Find Peace In The Loving Arms Of God And Comfort In Our Prayers. May They Pray For Us When It's Our Turn To Need Help In Our Own Despair. ~ Timothy Pina

I am a Christian - but sometimes I feel very removed from Christianity. The Jesus Christ that I believe in was the man who turned over the tables in the temple and threw the money-changers out - substitute T.V. evangelists if you like ... why in the West, do we spend so much money on extending the arms race instead of wiping out malaria, which could be eradicated given ten minutes worth of the world's arm budget? To me, we are living in the most un-Christian times. When I see these racketeers, the snake-oil salesmen on these right-winged television stations, asking for not your $20.00, or your $50.00, but your $100.00 in the name of Jesus Christ, I just want to throw up!! ~ Bono

You know, for a long time being a heavily tattooed woman was viewed as something gross, or you're either a criminal or a drug addict. It feels good to be a good representation of the art form versus being the token tattoo girl. I'm just glad that people even consider it to be sexy, because I think I'm just a big nerd so it works out. ~ Kat Von D.

She remembers blood.
A fine mist which goes deep into her lungs, over her skin and through the air. She remembers a desert at dusk. The sky indigo blue and the fire bright, so bright that she can see everything. Near the fire, in the night, all she knows is chaos wrapped in crimson. All is death and nightmare with a single solitary dancer who smiles cruelly as he moves. He is power and darkness. He is man and beast, silver coin eyes and that face, those claws and the agony of loss.
Time stretches wide; seconds like vast eons swallow up her world. Vince is dead, his mother, his brother and her small son ripped apart and gushing as he/it moves. She is screaming, a howl of agony beyond words, primal and wordless. Still he moves, faster than air, faster than she could ever be. Blood drips from her face as she grunts, running with her lungs on fire and her last remaining hope wrapped in her arms. ~ Amanda M. Lyons

My arms turn into a giant red welt. "Everyone has different bodies." "Did you just call my vagina loose? ~ Krista Ritchie

If a girl found the right man, she might not need love stories. She might find them in a pair of strong arms before drifting off to sleep. Pages unread. ~ Amber Scott

You roped me in, you chased me and you got me basically hooked on you. But you're keeping me at a distance because while I'm sure you like me, you like me best for one thing, and that's sex."
"That's not true," Lukas said without missing a beat.
"No?" I crossed my arms. "Prove it. ~ Stella Rhys

Lately, my sexual fantasies revolved around once again having a landlord. Looks, age, and hygiene didn't matter, as long as he had a tool belt and said, Don't worry, I'll fix it. ~ J.A. Konrath

At night if I'm in a hurry, I'll just put on a lot of mascara and black pencil all the way around the inner rim. It's a totally sexy eye in a minute and a half. ~ Brooke Burns

They preach the supremacy of the state, declare its omnipotence over individual man and predict its eventual domination of all peoples on the Earth. They are the focus of evil in the modern world ... So, in your discussions of the nuclear freeze proposals, I urge you to beware the temptation of pride, the temptation of blithely declaring yourselves above it all and label both sides equally at fault, to ignore the facts of history and the aggressive impulses of an evil empire, to simply call the arms race a giant misunderstanding and thereby remove yourself from the struggle between right and wrong and good and evil. ~ Ronald Reagan

The arms, legs, and torso with head were dragged away in sections as the children were captivated by the drama, zealously chewing their candies with sticky teeth. ~ Wyatt Michael

If the milk industry can make their product seem sexy and increase consumer demand, there must be hope for music. ~ Gary Arnold

It's cool in the basement, so I pull the blanket up to my chest. Caleb slides in beside me, and I feel his bare legs against mine. "You're shivering," he says, his voice a low whisper.
"I'm a little cold... and a little nervous."
"Don't be nervous, Maggie. It's juste me."
It's the real Caleb, without the tough facade. I'm glad it's completely dark now and he can't see my trembling fingers as they move up to his beautiful face. "I know."
He pulls me closer. I rest my head in the crook of his arm and am more content than ever.
"Maggie ?"
"Yeah ?"
"Thanks."
"For what ?"
"For making me feel alive again."
I drape my arm across his chest, the warmth of his skin melting into mine. I want to remember this night forever, because we'll probably never get another chance to hold each other like this again. It makes me want to do more than just sleep in his arms. I try and relax, to slow my own erratic heartbeat as I wrap my right leg, the one that wasn't severely damaged in the accident, around him. It's a definite hint that I'm ready to do more than just lie in his arms.
He moans in response. "Maggie, you're treading into dangerous territory. I'm trying to be a good, honorable guy here."
" I know. But I'm not asking you to be one."
"You sure you know what you're getting into ?"
"Nope. I've got no clue." I start kissing and feeling my way across his broad chest.
"You're killing me", he says, his hands slowly reach ~ Simone Elkeles

I had stepped into his arms, showing him my raw, broken heart. ~ Sarah Dessen

You call that caring?! I call it a line of crap! The only thing you cared about begins with an "F" and ends with me losing my virginity! ~ Maggie Adams

Do you get it now,Becks?" Jack wrapped a finger around a long strand of my hair, and we were quiet as it slipped through his grip.
"You haven't moved on?"
He chuckled. "I have a lifetime of memories made up of chestnut wars and poker games and midnight excursions and Christmas Dances...It's all you. It's only ever been you.I love you." The last part seemed to escape his lips unintentionally, and afterward he closed his eyes and put his head in his hands,as if he had a sudden headache. "I've gotta not say that out loud."
The sight of how messed up he was made me want to wrap my arms around him and fold him into me and cushion him from everything that lay ahead.
Instead,I reached for his hand. Brought it to my lips. Kissed it.
He raised his head and winced. "You shouldn't do that," he said, even though he didn't pull his hand away.
"Why?"
"Because...it'll make everything worse...If you don't feel-"
His voice cut off as I kissed his hand again, pausing with his fingers at my lips. He let out a shaky sigh and his hair flopped forward. Then he looked at my lips for a long moment. "What if...?"
I bit my lower lip. "What?"
"What if we could be like this again?" He leaned in closer with a smile, and as he did,he said, "Are you going to steal my soul?"
"Um...it's not technically your soul that..."
I couldn't finish my sentence. His lips brushed mine, and I felt the whoosh of transferring emotions,but it wasn't as strong as th ~ Brodi Ashton

D'Artagnan looked his friend earnestly in the face. "You know one
thing," continued the comte, leaning upon the arm of the captain; "you
know that in the course of my life I have been afraid of but few things.
Well! I have an incessant gnawing, insurmountable fear that an hour will
come in which I shall hold the dead body of that boy in my arms. ~ Alexandre Dumas

I didn't think you were real for a long time," I confess. "I thought you were someone I'd dreamed up."
"A dream worth reliving every night for ten years?" he asks, chuckling and slowly loosening his hold.
"For eternity," I whisper, winding my arms around his neck to keep him close.
"Good." He leans down and brushes his lips against mine. "That is exactly how long I plan on keeping you. ~ Erica Cameron

He was working that charm right now on the trainer who kneeled before him and touched his thigh as though it were the thigh of David, Michelangelo's glorious statue come to life right here on court. ~ A.G. Starling

But when (as will inevitably happen) mature women are again seen as sexy, it's likely that the maxi and midi will make their triumphant return as sexy garments. Fashion ~ Tim Gunn

I've received a lot of positive feedback from both the secular and Christian markets. People seem to be receiving it with open arms and hearts, and are interested in the stories I want to share about my relationship with God and my faith. ~ Brian Littrell

Spring had come once more to Green Gables-the beautiful, capricious Canadian spring, lingering along through April and may in a succession of sweet, fresh, chilly days, with pink sunsets and miracles of resurrection and growth. The maples in Lover's Lane were red-budded and little curly ferns pushed up around the Dryad's Bubble. Away in the barrens, behind Mr. Silas Sloane's place, the mayflowers blossomed out, pink and white stars of sweetness under their brown leaves. All the school girls and boys had one golden afternoon gathering them, coming home in the clear, echoing twilight with arms and baskets full of flowery spoil. ~ L.M. Montgomery

O Lazy bones! Dost thou think God would have given thee arms and legs, if he had not design'd thou should'st use them? ~ Benjamin Franklin

I definitely tell things at arm's length but that is conscious. No part of me wants everybody to know what's going on. ~ Laura Marling