Their Eyes Were Watching God Quotes

But nothin' can stop you from wishin'. ~ Zora Neale Hurston

Tain't no trouble tuh say whut's already so. ~ Zora Neale Hurston

For what can excuse a man in the eyes of other men for lack of strength? ~ Zora Neale Hurston

I lost many literary battles the day I read 'Their Eyes Were Watching God.' I had to concede that occasionally aphorisms have their power. I had to give up the idea that Keats had a monopoly on the lyrical. ~ Zadie Smith

It is so easy to be hopeful in the daytime when you can see the things you wish on. But it was night, it stayed night. Night was striding across nothingness with the whole round world in his hands ... They sat in company with the others in other shanties, their eyes straining against cruel walls and their souls asking if He meant to measure their puny might against His. They seemed to be staring at the dark, but their eyes were watching God. ~ Zora Neale Hurston

There in the fresh young darkness close together. Pheoby eager to feel and do through Janie, but hating to show her zest for fear it might be thought mere curiosity. Janie full of that oldest human longing - self-revelation. - ZORA NEALE HURSTON, THEIR EYES WERE WATCHING GOD ~ Janet Mock

Although watching her three children toddle to her, sleep-stained from their nap, rubbing their eyes while they make their way to Mama, little hands touching her knee or arm as if she were home base, as if they knew they were safe ... it hurts me sometimes to watch. ~ Gillian Flynn

Shrugging, I glanced at Judd who was watching someone in the corner. When I looked back at Cooper, he was studying the hair in my eyes.
"You look tired," he said, reaching out to brush away the hair.
Cooper's hand never reached my face before Judd grabbed his wrist and yanked it away.
In that instant, everything shifted. The men stepped closer, eyeballing each other as the heat of their anger became palatable.
I thought to step between them and calm things before violence broke out. Then, I remembered when I tried to break up a fight between my uncle's dogs. If Farah hadn't pulled me out of the way, I'd have been mauled. That day, I learned if predators wanted to fight, you let them while staying as far back as possible.
"I'll let this go because it's your woman," Cooper muttered, dark eyes still angry. "If you pull this shit again and it's not your woman, you and I will have a problem."
Once Cooper walked away, Judd finally relaxed.
I just stared at him as he led me to a booth because a group of old timers were at his table. Sitting next to him, I caressed his face, soothing him. He finally gave me a little grin.
Suddenly, Vaughn appeared and took the spot across from us. "Why do you look so pissed off?"
"He almost went feral on Cooper for trying to touch me."
Vaughn gave us a lazy grin. "So losing his balls makes a man stupid, eh? Good to know. Just another reason to keep mine attached."
Judd exhaled hard. "Y ~ Bijou Hunter

Tana," Aidan said as soon as he saw her. "Tana, they're going to come in as soon as it's dark. They told us." He looked pale and frantic, worse than she remembered him looking when she'd left. "We're going to die, Tana."
"Condamné à mort," a voice rasped from the other side of the door. She could hear the creatures whispering to one another in the hall, shifting hungrily, waiting for the sun to set.
Her hands shook.
She whirled on Gavriel, who was watching her with those eerie garnet eyes, huddled in the corner like a black crow. "What does that mean?"
"There are so many odd dappled patches of sunlight here," he called to them from his pile of blankets and jackets, ignoring her. "Come in. I long to watch your skin blister. I long to - "
"Don't say that!" she cut him off, panicked. If the vampires pushed their way in, she had no idea what she would do. ~ Holly Black

Watching her, I remembered a girl I'd known in school, a grind, Mildred Grossman. Mildred: with her moist hair and greasy spectacles, her strained fingers that dissected frogs and carried coffee to picket lines, her flat eyes that only turned toward the stars to estimate their chemical tonnage. Earth and air could not be more opposite than Mildred and Holly, yet in my head they acquired a Siamese twinship, and the thread of thought that had sewn them together ran like this: the average personality reshapes frequently, every few years even our bodies undergo a complete overhaul--desirable or not, it is a natural thing that we should change. All right, here were two people who never would. That is what Mildred Grossman had in common with Holly Golightly. They would never change because they'd been given their character too soon; which, like sudden riches, leads to a lack of proportion: the one had splurged herself into a top-heavy realist, the other a lopsided romantic. I imagined them in a restaurant of the future, Mildred still studying the menu for its nutritional values, Holly still gluttonous for everything on it. It would never be different. They would walk through life and out of it with the same determined step that took small notice of those cliffs at the left. ~ Truman Capote

Momo would have been delighted, except that most of the newcomers had no idea how to play. All they did was sit around looking bored and sullen and watching Momo and her friends. Sometimes they deliberately broke up the other children's games and spoiled everything. Squabbles and scuffles were frequent, though these never lasted long because Momo's presence had its usual effect on the newcomers, too, so they soon started having bright ideas themselves and joining in with a will. The trouble was, new children turned up nearly every day, some of them from distant parts of the city, and one spoilsport was enough to ruin the game for everyone else. But there was another thing that Momo couldn't quite understand - a thing that hadn't happened until very recently. More and more often these days, children turned up with all kind of toys you couldn't really play with: remote-controlled tanks that trundled to and fro but did little else, or space rockets that whizzed around on strings but got nowhere, or model robots that waddled along with eyes flashing and heads swiveling but that was all. They were highly expensive toys such as Momo's friends had never owned, still less than Momo herself. Most noticeable of all, they were so complete, down to the tiniest detail, that they left nothing at all to the imagination. Their owners would spend hours watching them, mesmerized but bored, as they trundled, whizzed, and waddled along. Finally, when that palled, they would go back to the famili ~ Michael Ende, Momo

I have to second Gran's thanks for not giving up on me."
"I did consider it a few times," she teased. "But you can be such an engaging fellow that I never considered it for long."
"And there was all that encouragement from my siblings," he said. "All their little machinations to help our romance along."
He had the satisfaction of watching his wife blush very prettily. "I didn't have anything to do with that. I had no idea they were trying to 'push you' anywhere."
"Of course you didn't. You don't have an ounce of guile in your entire body. But I knew what they were doing."
She blinked at him. "You did?"
"My siblings are as transparent as that fetching night rail you put on every evening."
"If you knew, why didn't you fight them?"
"Because they were pushing me in a direction I wanted to go."
"That's very sweet, but I'm sure you had no desire to marry until-"
"From the moment I met you, sweetheart, I could tell I was in trouble. I didn't acknowledge it, but on some level I sensed it. When a man first sees the thing he never realized he wanted, he knows it instantly. He just doesn't always know how to get it."
She laughed. "Oh, I think you figured out very quickly how to get it. You just kissed me until I stopped kneeing you in the privates, and after that I was putty in your hands."
"So that's the secret, is it?" Reaching over, he hauled her onto his lap. "Now I know how I'll be spending my afternoon."
Her eyes gle ~ Sabrina Jeffries

I believe it is possible to tell what sign some people were born under by watching their eyes, watching how they walk, how they talk. ~ Charley Pride

He doesn't know who he's making love to, I would think, and panic would slash through me until I reminded myself that it was over now, a freakish aberration not to be repeated. It was Hansen who first made me aware of shadow selves. He would lie in bed watching me for whole minutes, and I would look back into his eyes and wonder, What does he see? How can he not see the truth? Where is it hidden? It made me ask, when I looked at other people, what possible selves they were hiding behind the strange rubber masks of their faces. I could nearly always find one, if I watched for long enough. It became the only one I was interested in seeing. ~ Jennifer Egan

Am I to assume the Valerie I was introduced to earlier was the Valerie of our greenhouse notes?" He realized his mistake the instant her eyes clouded over and she glanced in the direction he'd looked.
"Yes."
"Shall I ask Willington to clear his ballroom so you have the requisite twenty paces? Naturally, I'll stand as your second."
Elizabeth drew a shaky breath, and a smile curved her lips. "Is she wearing a bow?"
Ian looked and shook his head. "I'm afraid not."
"Does she have an earring?"
He glanced again and frowned. "I think that's a wart."
Her smile finally reached her eyes. "It's not a large target, but I suppose-"
"Allow me," he gravely replied, and she laughed.
The last strains of their waltz were dying away, and as they left the dance floor Ian watched Mondevale making his way toward the Townsendes, who'd returned to the ballroom.
"Now that you're a marquess," Elizabeth asked, "will you live in Scotland or in England?"
"I only accepted the title, not the money or the lands," he replied absently, watching Mondevale. "I'll explain everything to you tomorrow morning at your house. Mondevale is going to ask you to dance as soon as we reach the Townsendes, so listen closely-I'm going to ask you to dance again later. Turn me down."
She sent him a puzzled look, but she nodded. "Is there anything else?" she asked when he was about to relinquish her to her friends.
"There's a great deal else, but it will have to w ~ Judith McNaught

Cold?" Ravus echoed. He took her arm and rubbed it between his hands, watching them as though they were betraying him. "Better?" He asked warily.
His skin felt hot, even through the cloth of her shirt, his touch was both soothing and electric.
She leaned into him without thinking. His thighs parted, rough black cloth scratching against her jeans as she moved between his long legs. His eyes half-lidded as he pushed himself off the desk, their bodies sliding together, his hands still holding hers. Then, suddenly, he froze. ~ Holly Black

I wish I could blame the solar storm
that blitzed the earth with electromagnetic rays,
rerouted several commercial airlines,
and caused all the geese to mistakenly fly west,
the secret compass needles in their heads
playing spin the bottle over a rowdy Pacific.
Satellite communications were disrupted,
electric eels in Peru forgot how to sing,
and for a few seconds all the iPhones in the world
flickered to black, during which time
everyone raised their eyes and noticed
moths shivering like tiny chandeliers.
The truth is your glance shortcuts every traffic light
in my heart and now no one's in charge,
I'm accelerating down the expressway
of a tuba's gold dream. With one outburst
from your hair, I sputter like a firefly drowning
in champagne. Just imagining the charged particles
of your lips colliding with mine
and I'm watching the northern lights,
those bodies flaring across midwinter sheets of sky ~ Katherine Rauk

I made an appointment with a sleep doctor, who explained that during the sleep study people would be watching me sleep and monitoring my brain waves to see how I reacted during the four stages of sleep. I'd explain those stages if I could spell all the complicated words but they basically range from "Wide awake" to "Just barely not dead."

My sleep cycle is a bit more elaborate.

The seven stages of sleep (according to my body)

STAGE 1: You take the maximum dose of sleeping pills, but they don't work at all and then you glare at their smug bottles at three a.m., whispering, "You lying bastards."

STAGE 2: You fall asleep for eight minutes and you have that dream where you've missed a semester of classes and don't know where you're supposed to be and when you wake up you realize that even in your sleep you're fucking your life up.

STAGE 3: You close your eyes for just a minute but never lose consciousness and then you open your eyes and realize it's been hours since you closed your eyes and you feel like you've lost time and were probably abducted by aliens.

STAGE 4: This is the sleep that you miss because you're too busy looking up "Symptoms of Alien Abduction" on your phone.

STAGE 5: This is the deep REM sleep that recharges you completely and doesn't actually exist but is made up by other people to taunt you.

STAGE 6: You hover in a state of half sleep when you're trying to stay under but ~ Jenny Lawson

scrub oak trees. Kieran was leaning against him, pinning him to the tree, and they were kissing.

Cristina hesitated a moment, blood rising into her face, but it was clear Mark wasn't being touched against his will. Mark's hands were tangled in Kieran's hair, and he was kissing him as fiercely as if he were starving. Their bodies were pressed together tightly; nevertheless, Kieran clutched at Mark's waist, his hands moving restlessly, desperately, as if he could pull Mark closer still. They slid up, pushing Mark's jacket off his shoulders, stroking the skin at the edge of his collar. He made a low keening sound, like a cry of grief, deep in his throat, and broke away.

He was staring at Mark, his gaze as hungry as it was hopeless. Never had a faerie looked so human to Cristina as Kieran did then. Mark looked back at him, eyes wide, shining in the moonlight. A shared look of love and longing and terrible sadness. It was too much. It had already been too much: Cristina knew she shouldn't have been watching them but she hadn't been able to stop, mingled shock and fascination rooting her to the spot.

And desire. There was desire, too. Whether for Mark, or for both of them, or just for the idea of wanting someone so much, she wasn't sure. She moved back, her heart pounding, about to pull the ~ Cassandra Clare

When she opened her eyes, she was both in her body and watching it, nowhere near the cavity of the tree. The Blue that was before her stood inches from a boy in an Aglionby sweater. There was a slight stoop to his posture, and his shoulders were spattered darkly with rain. It was his fingers that Blue felt on her face. He touched her cheek with the backs of his fingers.
Tears coursed down the other Blue's face. Though some strange magic, Blue could feel them on her face as well. She could feel, too, sick, rising misery she'd felt in the churchyard, the grief that felt bigger than her. The other Blue's tears seemed endless. One drop slid after another, each following an identical path down her cheeks.
The boy in the Aglionby sweater leaned his forehead against Blue's. She felt the pressure of his skin against hers, and suddenly she could smell mint.
It'll be okay. Gansey told the other Blue. She could tell that he was afraid. It'll be okay.
Impossibly, Blue realized that this other Blue was crying because she loved Gansey. And that the reason Gansey touched her like that, his fingers so careful with her, was because he knew that her kiss could kill him. She could feel how badly the other Blue wanted to kiss him, even as she dreaded it. Though she couldn't understand why, her real, present day memories in the tree cavity were clouded with other false memories of their lips nearly touching, a life this other Blue had already lived.
Okay, I'm ready- Gan ~ Maggie Stiefvater

You have to stop letting me do this," he bit off, half-angrily.
"If you'll stop leaning on me so that I can get my hands on a blunt object, I'll be happy to…!"
He kissed the words into oblivion. "It isn't a joke," he murmured into her mouth. His hips moved in a gentle, sensuous sweep against her hips. He felt her shiver.
"That's…new," she said with a strained attempt at humor.
"It isn't," he corrected. "I've just never let you feel it before." He kissed her slowly, savoring the submission of her soft, warm lips. His hands swept under the blouse and up under her breasts in their lacy covering. He was going over the edge. If he did, he was going to take her with him, and it would damage both of them. He had to stop it, now, while he could. "Is this what Colby gets when he comes to see you?" he whispered with deliberate sarcasm.
It worked. She stepped on his foot as hard as she could with her bare instep. It surprised him more than it hurt him, but while he recoiled, she pushed him and tore out of his arms. Her eyes were lividly green through her glasses, her hair in disarray. She glared at him like a female panther.
"What Colby gets is none of your business! You get out of my apartment!" she raged at him.
She was magnificent, he thought, watching her with helpless delight. There wasn't a man alive who could cow her, or bend her to his will. Even her drunken, brutal stepfather hadn't been able to force her to do something she didn't want to do ~ Diana Palmer

And then he hesitated. He turned his head and looked across the chasm at Ileni. Their eyes met, and his weren't deadly and focused at all. They were ... afraid.
This thing between us wouldn't survive my watching you murder someone. ~ Leah Cypess

Don't talk foolish," I said. His voice was coming from very far away, and it frightened me. "'Tis only talk," he assured me, grinning. "And I'd think it unlikely that the priests would welcome a heathen like myself into their number. Besides, my ghost will be busy enough, watching over you." "Do you mean to haunt me, then?" "Ay." His eyes were very warm on mine. "You'll not be rid of me so easily. ~ Susanna Kearsley

Lily Chadwick knew there was something different about the fiercely scowling gentleman the first moment she saw him.
She could feel it.
The instant their gazes met, caught, held, something skittered across her skin like a rain of white sparks. It entered her bloodstream, heating her from the inside until her breath became stilted and her knees went alarmingly weak.
He stared at her from beneath a brow drawn low in a forbidding expression. His eyes were so dark, even the light of the glittering ballroom could not be reflected there. The angles of his face were hard, his jaw sharply defined, and he held his mouth in a harsh line that attempted to harden the full curve of his lower lip but didn't quite manage it.
Lily tried to glance away demurely, but she couldn't seem to manage. She felt a flutter that became a tightening in her belly. Her heart stopped, skipped a few beats, then started up again in a frantic rhythm as he just kept watching her.
Despite his severe, aloof appearance, something about him reached out to her, touching her with an intrinsic sort of recognition. It left her feeling as though she stood in the heart of a firestorm. She sensed with a certainty beyond rational explanation that his unyielding manner was a facade, as if he were a hero in some gothic novel. There was passion in him. She felt it in every quickened, prey-like breath she took while frozen under his intent stare.
The silent interaction between them was becoming mo ~ Amy Sandas

In a private room down the hall, a tired but delighted Cecily was watching her husband with his brand-new son. Cecily had thought that the expression on Tate's face at their wedding would never be duplicated. But when they placed the tiny little boy in his father's gowned arms in the delivery room, and he saw his child for the first time, the look on his face was indescribable. Tears welled in his eyes. He'd taken the tiny little fist in his big, dark hand and smoothed over the perfect little fingers and then the tiny little face, seeking resemblances.
"Generations of our families," he said softly, "all there, in that face." He'd looked down at his wife with unashamedly wet eyes. "In our son's face."
She wiped her own tears away with a corner of the sheet and coaxed Tate's head down so that she could do the same for him where they were, temporarily, by themselves.
Now she was cleaned up, like their baby, and drowsy as she lay on clean white sheets and watched her husband get acquainted with his firstborn. "Isn't he beautiful?" he murmured, still awed by the child. "Next time, we have to have a little girl," he said with a tender smile, "so that she can look like you."
Her heart felt near to bursting as she stared up at that beloved face, above the equally beloved face of their firstborn.
"My heart is happy when I see you," she whispered in Lakota.
He chuckled, having momentarily forgotten that he'd taught her how to say it. "Mine is equally happy ~ Diana Palmer

This is the Death's-head Moth," he said. "That's nightshade she's sitting on - we're hoping she'll lay." The moth was wonderful and terrible to see, its large brown-black wings tented like a cloak, and on its wide furry back, the signature device that has struck fear in men for as long as men have come upon it suddenly in their happy gardens. The domed skull, a skull that is both skull and face, watching from its dark eyes, the cheekbones, the zygomatic arch traced exquisitely beside the eyes. "Acherontia styx," Pilcher said. "It's named for two rivers in Hell. Your man, he drops the bodies in a river every time - did I read that?" "Yes," Starling said. "Is it rare?" "In this part of the world it is. There aren't any at all in nature. ~ Thomas Harris

Why does she always seem to think you drive like we're holding up a bank?"
Roswell grinned and rolled his eyes, "Because that's what teenagers do, right? They also carve swastikas into their arms, steal prescription drugs from old people, and freebase cocaine. I need to institute a policy where she stops watching 60 Minutes and pretty much all public service announcements. ~ Brenna Yovanoff

Gregori was as still as a statue, his face a blank mask, his silver eyes as empty as death, yet Shea gave him a wide berth. There was something dangerous in his utter stillness. Shea felt she had no way to sorting out the complexity of the Carpathian male's nature. Gregori was watching Raven through narrowed, restless eyes, eyes that saw far too much. Suddenly he cursed, low and vicious, startling from someone of his stature and power. "She should not put herself at risk. She is with child."
His eyes met Jacques', silver lightning and black ice. Total understanding between the two men. Shea merged her mind with Jacues' quickly to try to understand the hidden currents. Raven's pregnancy, if she was pregnant, changed everything as far as the men were concerned. Shea could see no evidence of a child - Raven appeared as slim as ever - but she couldn't believe the healer would be wrong. He seemed so infallible, so completely invincible. The child was everything, all-important to the men. It surprised, even shocked her, the way they regarded the pregnancy. It was a miracle to both of them. The baby was more important than their lives. Shea was confused. Despite Jacques' fractured memories, his protective streak was extremely strong.
"He's aware of his surroundings, but he can't move. Even his mind is locked and still. He is paralyzed somehow." Raven's voice startled Shea, brought her back to the stormy weather and their rescue mission. Raven was clearly speaking of Byron. ~ Christine Feehan

The tattoos around his eyes burned as he scanned the surrounding area. No one but him probably noticed, but the plumes of darkness branching in every direction were writhing and groaning, desperate to avoid the light of the moon and street lamps.
Come to me, he beseeched them.
They didn't hesitate. As if they'd merely been waiting for the invitation, they danced toward him, flattening against his car, shielding it - and thereby him - from prying eyes.
"Freaks me out every damn time you do that," Rowan said as he crawled into the front passenger seat. For the first time, Sean's friend had accompanied him to "keep you from doing something you'll regret." Not that Gabby had known. Rowan had lain in the backseat the entire drive. "I can't see a damn thing."
"I can." Sean's gaze could cut through shadows as easily as a knife through butter.
Gabby was in the process of settling behind the wheel of her car. Though more than two weeks had passed since their kiss, they hadn't touched again. Not even a brush of fingers.
He was becoming desperate for more.
That kiss . . . it was the hottest of his life. He'd forgotten where he was, what - and who - was around him. He'd never, never, risked discovery like that. But that night, having Gabby so close, those lush lips of hers parted and ready, those brown eyes watching him as if he were something delicious, he'd been unable to stop himself. He'd beckoned the shadows around them, meshed their lips together, ~ Gena Showalter

Fuck you."

"Oh, now you want me too." Syn barked a laugh. "I thought you were straight."

"Syn," Furi snapped. "Knock it off."

Syn took Furi's backpack off his shoulder and slid it on to his own. He intertwined their fingers and Furi couldn't ignore how much he liked that gesture from his tough Sergeant. Doug still stood very close to Furi, watching them both through narrowed eyes.

"Stop looking like that," Furi whispered.

"Are you sure you know what you're doing?" Doug whispered back.

Furi turned and looked behind him at Syn's ruggedly gorgeous face then down at their joined hands. He turned back to Doug's concerned eyes. "Yes, I do." Furi leaned in and chastely kissed Doug on the lips and watched him turn and leave.

When Furi turned back, Syn was wearing a large frown and his chest was frozen like he was holding his breath. Furi got as close to Syn as he could. "What's the matter?"

"Don't do that again." Syn's voice was rough and low.

"Do what?" Furi frowned in confusion.

Syn brought his free hand up and wiped the pad of his thumb across Furi's full lips. "Don't put your lips on him again." Syn shook his head when Furi opened his mouth to argue. "I know it was friendly, and it didn't mean anything, but humor me, okay? Don't put your mouth on his. Syn leaned in and pulled Furi's bottom lip into his mouth and gently sucked on it, right there in the IHOP parking lot. "O ~ A.E. Via

When they arrived at his apartment, Allen's roommate Tim, was lying on the faux black leather sofa in the living room watching an NBA play-off game on their fifty-two inch flat-screen. Owen was barely over five feet tall with a pale complexion, buck teeth, kinky hair, and he wore thick glasses that made his eyes look like they were popping out at you in 3-D; but he was sweet as pie and had a heart of gold. ~ Monica Mathis-Stowe

What!" Schiffer blurted, not a question. Lucas had been watching Carver and Dannon again, and again, their eyes were blank; if they'd been lizards, Lucas thought, a nictitating membrane might have dropped slowly across them. ~ John Sandford

Jim watched them eat, his eyes fixed on every morsel that entered their mouth. When the oldest of the four soldiers had finished he scraped some burnt rice and fish scales from the side of the cooking pot. A first-class private of some forty years, with slow, careful hands, he beckoned Jim forward and handed him his mess tin. As they smoked their cigarettes the Japanese smiled to themselves, watching Jim devour the shreds of fatty rice. It was his first hot food since he had left he hospital, and the heat and greasy flavour stung his gums. Tears swam in his eyes. The Japanese soldier who had taken pity on Jim, recognising that this small boy was starving, began to laugh good-naturedly, and pulled the rubber plug from his metal water-bottle. Jim drank the clear, chlorine-flavoured liquid, so unlike the stagnant water in the taps of the Columbia Road. He choked, carefully swallowed his vomit, and tittered into his hands, grinning at the Japanese. Soon they were all laughing together, sitting back in the deep grass beside the drained swimming-pool. ~ J.G. Ballard

His hands lay flat on either side of him, his arms at his sides. He seemed barely to be breathing; she wasn't sure she was breathing herself. She slid her own hand across the bedsheet, just far enough that their fingers touched-so lightly that she would have probably hardly been aware of it had she been touching anyone but Jace; as it was, the nerve endings in her fingertips pricked softly, as if she were holding them over a low flame. She felt him tense beside her and then relax. He had shut his eyes, and his lashes cast fine shadows against the curve of his cheekbones. His mouth curled into a smile as if he sensed her watching him, and she wondered how he would look in the morning, with his hair messed and sleep circles under his eyes. Despite everything, the thought gave her a jolt of happiness.
She laced her fingers through his. "Good night," she whispered. With their hands clasped like children in a fairy tale, she fell asleep beside him in the dark. ~ Cassandra Clare

At once, Katie rose into the air, not as Ron had done, suspended comically by the ankle, but gracefully, her arms oustretched, as though she was about to fly. Yet there was something wrong, something eerie. . . . Her hair was whipped around her by the fierce wind, but her eyes were closed and her face was quite empty of expression. Harry, Ron, Hermione, and Leanne had all halted in their tracks, watching. Then, six feet above the ground, Katie let out a terrible scream. Her eyes flew open but whatever she could see, or whatever she was feeling, was clearly causing her terrible anguish. She screamed and screamed; Leanne started to scream too and seized Katie's ankles, trying to tug her back to the ground. Harry, Ron, ~ J.K. Rowling

Swallowing hard, she looked at him.
He raised his eyes from the frothy concoction on his spoon at the precise moment she looked up, and their gazes
locked over the length of the polished wood table. Where would you drip whipped cream on him, Lisa? The answer
came with frightening swiftness and conviction: Everywhere. She wanted to explore his body, the hard ripples, the smooth skin. The candlelight bathed his olive skin with a golden hue, and his dark good looks were set off perfectly by his linen shirt and the splash of black and crimson draped across his chest. He was mesmerizing.
"Are you hungry, lass?" He licked his spoon languidly. She couldn't tear her gaze away. "No. I've eaten quite
enough," she managed.
"You seem to be watching my dessert most intently. Are you certain there isn't something else you wish to sate your appetite?"
Besides you to remove your clothing, lie on the table, and let me finger paint you with whipped cream, you mean?
"Nope," she said casually. "Not a thing." She watched him for a moment; he still had a great deal of dessert left. How was she going to get through this? ~ Karen Marie Moning

Wolf took a step closer so that he towered over Scarlet, creating what could have been a moment of intimacy if the room hadn't been so crowded. "So? Will you marry me?"
Scarlet started to smile.
"Wait. Before you answer that," said Thorne, gesturing around the room, "you should know that the store where we got all this stuff doesn't take returns."
Casting her gaze skyward, Scarlet said, "Well, in that case. Yes. Yes, of course I will." Her eyes glimmered as she draped her arms over Wolf's shoulders. His hands spread out across the sash at her waist and he bent toward her -
But just before their lips touched, Thorne thrust his hands in between them, receiving dual kisses on his fingers. Wolf and Scarlet jerked back.
"Slow those rockets," said Thorne. "I'm no expert, but I'm pretty sure we're not to the kissing part yet." He pried Scarlet away from Wolf, who growled low in his throat, and ordered, "Places, everyone! ~ Marissa Meyer

The bride of this last day!
The bride like Elisha will follow Elijah till she receives double portion of his anointing. God is looking for audacious people that will go beyond is word just to be tight with Him. The same scene that happened with Elisha happened to the Disciples. When others like them left The Lord, the 12 stayed with one unbeliever, knowing the things to be true but refusing to believe them(the sons of the prophets coming each time to disturb Elisha). They were sons of prophets but they didn't believe what would take place before their eyes! Elijah said:" if you see me being raptured then you will receive it as you asked other than that, no", the disciples also were there, witnessing their Lord being raptured and He gave them something more valuable than things of This world: the double portion( the Holy Ghost). Ask yourself: Are you like Elisha? Are you like The disciples? God bless you with 2Kings2,1-18 ~ Jean Faustin Louembe

Let us follow Ezekiel's eyewitness account a little further: Now as I beheld the living creatures, behold one wheel upon the earth by the living creatures, with his four faces. The appearance of the wheels and their work was like unto the color of a beryl: and they four had one likeness: and their appearance and their work was as it were a wheel in the middle of a wheel. When they went they went upon their four sides: and they turned not as they went. As for their rings, they were so high that they were dreadful; and their rings were full of eyes round about them four. And when the living creatures went, the wheels went by them: and when the living creatures were lifted up from the earth, the wheels were lifted up. ~ Erich Von Daniken

I am banished from the patient men who fight.
They smote my heart to pity, built my pride.
Shoulder to aching shoulder, side by side,
They trudged away from life's broad wealds of light.
Their wrongs were mine; and ever in my sight
They went arrayed in honour. But they died,
Not one by one: and mutinous I cried
To those who sent them out into the night.
The darkness tells how vainly I have striven
To free them from the pit where they must dwell
In outcast gloom convulsed and jagged and riven
By grappling guns. Love drove me to rebel.
Love drives me back to grope with them through hell;
And in their tortured eyes I stand forgiven. ~ Siegfried Sassoon

Her eyes widened and a strangled sound escaped her throat as she sought to process the sudden wash of conflicting sensations that bombarded her from every angle.
He was deep. Impossibly deep. She surrounded him. He surrounded her. Their hips were flush against each other. His body covered hers possessively. There was a burning ache deep inside her, and she couldn't discern whether it was pleasure or pain. ~ Maya Banks

within the harbour, or on the beautiful sea without. The line of demarcation between the two colours, black and blue, showed the point which the pure sea would not pass; but it lay as quiet as the abominable pool, with which it never mixed. Boats without awnings were too hot to touch; ships blistered at their moorings; the stones of the quays had not cooled, night or day, for months. Hindoos, Russians, Chinese, Spaniards, Portuguese, Englishmen, Frenchmen, Genoese, Neapolitans, Venetians, Greeks, Turks, descendants from all the builders of Babel, come to trade at Marseilles, sought the shade alike - taking refuge in any hiding-place from a sea too intensely blue to be looked at, and a sky of purple, set with one great flaming jewel of fire. The universal stare made the eyes ache. Towards the distant line of Italian coast, indeed, it was a little relieved ~ Charles Dickens

First of all, she was uncertain how to read the statement. Did Harry actually mean what he said, or was there another underlying message? Did he mean "Wow, you are so completely unattractive, no other man could possibly be interested in you, so I'll take advantage of you by pretending to desire you. And maybe I'll get lucky and get laid while having a big laugh at your expense?"
Or did he mean "I'll tell you this to make you feel better because, even though it's not completely true, you don't repulse me, and if we do end up having sex, I'll just make sure all the lights are off."
"Look, Allie, I didn't mean to freak you out or anything," Harry said. "I mean, by saying what I said back in the car . . ."
Alessandra realized that she had blindly followed him and they were standing on one of the lines, waiting to order their daily indigestion. She had been staring sightlessly up at the menu.
"It's just . . . You wanted honesty," he continued, "and I . . ." He shrugged. "I took it a little too far, as usual. Some things probably just shouldn't be said."
"I don't know how to do this," Alessandra admitted. "Talking to men was easy when I was beautiful. But now . . ."
Harry was looking at her, studying her very naked, very plain face, his dark brown eyes so intense. It was as if the crowd around them had ceased to exist, as if they were the only two people standing in that fast-food lobby. He touched her hair, pushing a limp lock back behind her ear.
Suzanne Brockmann

He wanted to touch her, to tame her, to take her in his arms and make love to her until they were both exhausted and unable to think of anything beyond their embrace. He wanted to sink into her rich ebony curls, her beautiful eyes, her infinite softness and never return. ~ Sarah MacLean

...and for a moment they were Jem-and-Will again. Will could see Jem, but also through him, to the past. Will remembered the two of them, running through the dark streets of London, jumping from rooftop to rooftop, seraph blades gleaming in their hands; hours in the training room, shoving each other into mud puddles, throwing snowballs at Jessamine from behind an ice fort in the courtyard, asleep like puppies on the rug in front of the fire.
Ave atque vale... Hail and farewell. He had never given much thought to the words before, he had never thought about why they were not just a farewell but also a greeting. Every meeting led to a parting, and so it would, as long as it was mortal. In every meeting there was some of the sorrow of parting, but in every parting there was some joy of the meeting as well.
He would not forget the joy.
...
"Wo men shi sheng si ji jiao," said Will, and he saw Jem's eyes widen, fractionally, and the spark of amusement inside them. "Go in peace, James Carstairs ~ Cassandra Clare

Grey was here."
He hadn't known, that was obvious from the way his eyes widened. "You lie."
Rose chuckled. "I saw him. I spoke to him. He said he came to see me. And then he ran out of here as though the hounds of hell were nipping at his heels."
Archer shook his head, an expression of disbelief on his face. "They tend to do that when Hades freezes over." Then he offered her a grin. "He braved being seen in public just to come here and see you?"
"He was watching from a balcony. I wouldn't have known he was here if the fortune teller hadn't told me."
His brows shot up. "And there's a story for another time. Look, Lady Rose, I know he's frustrating as all get-out, but you cannot expect Grey to change years of behavior in a week. You have to be patient-like waves lapping at a stone."
That was so very easily said. He wasn't the one being pressured to find a husband. He wasn't the one who felt as though everything she wanted was just out of reach. "You know, I suddenly find myself very interested in Lady Monteforte's literary tastes. Shall I make the introductions?"
"I will hang your puppy if you do not."
Rose grinned. He truly was the most charming of rascals. "How very fortunate for me then, that I do not own a puppy."
"For shame. Every young lady should have a puppy."
Rose made the introductions, and Archer wasted no time in asking Lady Monteforte if she cared to dance. For a moment it seemed the lady might decline, but then Ros ~ Kathryn Smith

Alex finally turned around and noticed that there were three women in the room. He quickly swept his eyes over them, taking in their comfortable position. As his gaze settled on Emma, she lifted her teacup to her lips and took a sip.
"My, my," he drawled, "aren't we the best of friends?"
All three women shot him irritated glances. Alex looked a trifle disgruntled at their collective unfavorable response to his presence. ~ Julia Quinn

Everett and his mom broke up with me,thank you very much."
"You shouldn't have made out with him in his mother's scrapbooking room," Liz said sagely.
"We're seventeen,"I snapped, "and Everett and I had been dating for two months when that happened.What were we supposed to do,eat dinner with his family and keep our hands on the table where everyone could see them?I mean, you and Davis are Mr. and Mrs. Polite Reserve, and even you were macking in the hot tub an hour ago." I picked up a pink fuzzy pillow that had fallen from he bed and threw it at Liz.
"You were?" Chloe gushed. "You what? Hello,I need the details of Liz and Davis."
"Hayden!" Liz squealed, ducking behind Chloe. "I'm not saying you shouldn't have made out with Everett.I'm saying you shouldn't have done it in his mother's scrapbooking room.Location, location,location.You might have disorganized her supplies.Some people are very particular about their chipboard getting mixed up with their cardstock."
I closed my eyes,inhaled through my nose,and felt my lungs fill with air. My blood spread the life-giving oxygen throughout my body.
"Watch out,"Chloe whispered to Liz. "She's doing yoga."
My eyes snapped open.So much for controlling my temper. "Why the hell didn't you tell me Nick's mother left before I went into the sauna with him?" I hollered at Chloe.
"We didn't know he was here!" Liz came to Chloe's defense. "And if we'd warned you about him before he got here," Chloe explain ~ Jennifer Echols

You remember the Latin?"
"Of course. Vir prudens non contra ventum mingit." I couldn't see his face. Cease of the hood, but it could tell by the tone of his voice that he was completely serious. Or at least trying to be. I wrinkled my forehead as I attempted to translate.
"Wait a second," Seth said, pulling back his hood to demonstrate his utter confusion. "I thought their greeting was Non ducor, duco. 'I am not led, I lead.'"
Liam's shoulders began shaking just as I finished my rough translation. "A wise man does not urinate against the wind?" I pulled down my hood and looked at Liam. He winked at me, and it was pretty much the most beautiful thing I'd ever seen in my life. Normally, I'm very anti-wink when it comes to guys, but in this case it was a wink of absolution. It was a wink that meant Liam and I were actually going to be okay.
"You've been planning that all night, haven't you?" I reached over and squeezed his arm. It was the first time I had touched him in at least twenty-four hours, and his strong forearm felt so good beneath my fingertips. When he grabbed my hand and quickly brought my palm to his lips, I felt all the air leave my body. As much as I hated to admit it, for fear of sounding like a ridiculous, boy-crazed damsel in distress, it felt good to have my boyfriend back.
Taylor whipped back her hood, her blue eyes icy. "I'm so glad this is such a joke to you," she spat, clearly not in the mood for games.
Liam dropped my hand ~ Lisa Roecker

Another five minutes, thought Olivia, and shut her eyes. Not to fall asleep again; but to go back as it were and do the thing gradually---detach oneself softly, float up serenely from the clinging delectable fringes. Oh, heavenly sleep! Why must one cast it from one, all unprepared, unwilling? Caught out again by Kate in the very act! You're not trying , you could wake up if you wanted to: that was their attitude. And regularly one began the day convicted of inferiority, of a sluggish voluptuous nature, seriously lacking in will-power. ~ Rosamond Lehmann