Tight Pants Quotes

I don't wear small shoes, or tight pants that squash your balls. ~ George Harrison

They make this drink in Brazil Called cachaca. It's sugar can alcholho. Costs 35 cents a quart. One quart of that stuff and you see God. Two quarts and you graow a pair of tight pants and an electric guitar. ~ David Lee Roth

In high school I had some famously egregious fashion missteps. I was really out there in fashion, I think because I wanted attention. I would wear crazy patterns, skin-tight pants and giant platform shoes. ~ Busy Philipps

I knew he'd get left behind when the Rapture came due to his swearing and probably also for having long hair and tight pants. ~ Susan Juby

I don't like tight pants on guys. ~ Paul Dano

Putting your hair in a bun is like wearing tight pants on Thanksgiving. Eventually the stuffing's gonna pop right on out. ~ Rachel Van Dyken

Mullets and questionably tight pants aside, the best music in the world was '80s rock, and I had no qualms about admitting it. I didn't want music that was maudlin and depressing - I wanted music that put me in a good mood and made the world look a little bit brighter. ~ L. H. Cosway

Oh, the joys of baseball, manly men in tight pants. ~ Carolyn Hart

Tight pants are just uncomfortable. ~ Mark Twain

When I started skiing my pants were baggy and my cheeks were tight
Now my cheeks are baggy and my pants are tight. ~ Warren Miller

My style is not that big. I wear heels, tight pants, and I wear diamonds. ~ Donatella Versace

The fashion industry isn't merely content to encase my meaty flanks in skintight denim. Oh, no! That denim also has to be white, a color that attracts ketchup, wine, garlic aioli, and any other foodstuffs I might otherwise be able to enjoy if I wasn't wearing ridiculously tight pants. ~ Diablo Cody

Anyway, there is one thing I have learned and that is not to dress uncomfortably, in styles which hurt: winklepicker shoes that cripple your feet and tight pants that squash your balls. Indian clothes are better. ~ George Harrison

All men and women
including young men and young women
should wear clothing that covers the shoulder and avoid clothing that is low cut in the front or back or revealing in any other manner. Tight pants, tight shirts, excessively baggy clothing, wrinkled apparel, and unkempt hair are not appropriate. All should avoid extremes in clothing, hairstyle, and other aspects of appearance. We should always be neat and clean, avoiding sloppiness or inappropriate casualness. ~ Robert D. Hales

Oh, that character was light years away from me. I'm not debonair. I'm not suave. I did wear tight pants, though, because I found out that it worked. ~ Robert Conrad

editor in New York and my mom and dad on the phone. My body is weak and bloated. I'm slowly poisoning myself to death. And it's not like I haven't seen what this shit does to people. The most fucked-up detoxes I've ever seen are the people coming off alcohol. It's worse than heroin, worse than benzos, worse than anything. Alcohol can pickle your brain - leaving you helpless, like a child - infantilized - shitting in your pants - ranting madness - disoriented - angry - terrified. But that's not gonna be me, I mean, it can't be. I may hate myself. I may fantasize about suicide. But I'm way too vain to let myself die an alcoholic death. There's nothing glamorous about alcoholism. You don't go out like Nic Cage in Leaving Las Vegas, with a gorgeous woman riding you till your heart stops. Alcoholism takes you down slow, robbing you of every last bit of dignity on your way ~ Nic Sheff

I am waiting for the day when I will see you again and hold your soft hands, touch your sweet lips and hug you tight so that you will never leave me again. ~ Mercy Johnson

Money was tight and Mum used to do two jobs to support us. ~ Holly Valance

Whenever I get the sort of fancy pants idea that I'm doing anything other than pure expression things start to go wrong. When I get too premeditated, things start to go wrong. I just shut that part of my brain off. ~ Lev Yilmaz

Or what about attention deficit disorder, and the litany of negative, even catastrophic associations it carries? Fifteen years ago, it barely existed, but today it's being diagnosed left, right, and sideways. I'm not suggesting that some kids don't have it, or can't benefit from treatment, but ADD (and the fear of our children being diagnosed with it) has saturated our culture like a virus. And the result, of course, is millions of parents buying their children drugs. A parent's internal monologue may go something like this:

If my child doesn't take Ritalin, or Adderal or Concerta, he won't be able to concentrate in school. He'll fall behind. His grades will suffer. He'll be marginalized by his peers. He'll begin hanging out with other low-performing kids. He won't get into college. He'll drift from job to job. He may even end up in jail. All because I didn't address his ADD when he was in kindergarten.

Fear, in my experience, spreads faster than anything else - and the ads for those drugs have done a very nice job scaring the pants off us. ~ Martin Lindstrom

Susan had told him once that bravery was when you wanted to pee your pants, but you kept fighting ~ Dan Krokos

Maybe we could get Aiden some pants because I'm tired of looking at his junk," Jayce muttered. ~ Katie Reus

The sparkling smile became enormous. 'Do you think she has a dagger there? Do you? Ask her, M. Francis? For,' said the most noble and most powerful Princess Mary Stewart, Queen of Scotland, delving furiously under all the stiff red velvet, showing shift, hose and garters, shoes, knees and a long ribboned end of something recently torn loose, and emerging therefrom with a fist closed tight on an object short and hard and glittering, 'for I have!' And breathlessly, flinging back her head, with the little knife offered like a quill, 'Try to stab me!' she encouraged her visitor. There was a queer silence, during which the eyes of Oonagh O'Dwyer and her love of one night met and locked like magnet and iron. The child, waiting a moment, offered again, the ringing, joyful defiance still in her voice. 'Try to stab me! … Go on, and I'll kill you all dead!'

Her throat dry, Oonagh spoke. 'Save your steel for those you trust. They are the ones who will carry your bier; the men who cannot hate, nor can they know love. Send away the cold servants.' The red mouth had opened a little; the knife hung forgotten in her hand.

'I would,' said Mary, surprised. 'But I do not know any.' And, anxiously demonstrating her point, she caught Lymond by the hand. ~ Dorothy Dunnett

The dusk light is impossibly bright. Timothy Squire is still pale, casting backwards glances as we run. After we are well free of the neighbourhood, I gesture for him to stop.

'You all right?' he pants.

I time it perfectly, and my fist connects, hard, with his stomach. He stumbles, falls to his knees on the wet pavement. Although his grip is strong I have taken him by surprise, and soon the knife is in my hands. ~ John Owen Theobald

Savannah came to him instantly, her face lit up with some emotion he dared not name.She was in a man's silk shirt and nothing else. The buttons were open so that the edges gaped to reveal her high, full breasts, and narrow rib cage. Another step and her tiny waist and flat stomach, the triangle of tight ebony curls, showed for an intriguing moment before the long tails of the shirt brushed back into place. Her long hair cascaded loose and moved around her like living, breathing silk. With every step she took, he caught glimpses of satin skin.
At once the dull roar started in his head. Heat exploded through his blood, and his body tightened with alarming urgency. Every good and noble intention seemed to go up in flames. She smiled up at him, her slender arms sliding around his neck. "I'm so glad you're home," she whispered softly, her mouth finding the pulse in his throat. ~ Christine Feehan

I'm totally unprepared for this level of hotness - well, any kind of hotness, to be honest. I'm dressed in yoga pants and a T-shirt. I wanted to be comfortable for traveling, and now, I want to slap myself.

I am not dressed to meet a man of his caliber, especially not now while I'm going to be seated next to said man for the next six and a half hours.

Honestly, I can't even remember if I put on deodorant.

Oh God, please let me have put on deodorant. ~ Samantha Towle

Osama, yo Mama didn't raise you right. When you were young, she must have wrapped your turban too tight. ~ Ray Stevens

Lachlain shifted restlessly. He thought he was finally strong enough for them to leave tomorrow. He was physically ready to resume relations with his wife, and wasn't eager to do it under this roof.
He stood and offered his hand, and with a shy smile she slipped her hand in his. As they crossed in front of the screen, they barely dodged a volley of popcorn.
He didn't know where he was taking her, maybe out into the night fog. He just knew he wanted her, needed her, right then. She was too precious to him, too good to be true. When he was inside her, with his arms tight around her, he felt less like she'd slip away.
But they only made it to an empty hall before he pressed her against the wall, cupped her neck, and demanded once again, "You'll stay with me?"
"Always." Her hips arched up to him. "You love me?"
"Always, Emmaline," he grated against her lips. "Always. So damn much you make me mad with it."
When she moaned softly, he lifted her so she could wrap her legs around his waist. He knew he couldn't have her here, but the reasons why grew hazy with her breaths in his ear.
"I wish we were home," she whispered. "Together in our bed."
Home. Damn if she hadn't said home. In our bed. Had anything ever sounded so good? He pressed her harder into the wall, kissing her more deeply, with all the love he had in him, but suddenly they were falling, his balance somehow lost. He clenched her to him and twisted to take the impact on his back.
Kresley Cole

It was a denim jacket. With this cover in place, Mouse hastily got his pants back in order. Instead of a teacher, as he'd expected, the new kid, Beckett Taylor, had bestowed dignity upon him. ~ Debra Anastasia

The Mistake
He left his pants upon a chair:
She was a widow, so she said:
But he was apprehended, bare,
By one who rose up from the dead. ~ Theodore Roethke

If I had the money I could buy a torch and read till dawn. In America a torch is called a flashlight. A biscuit is called a cookie, a bun is a roll. Confectionery is pastry and minced meat is ground. Men wear pants instead of trousers and they'll even say this pant leg is shorter than the other which is silly. When I hear them saying pant leg I feel like breathing faster. The lift is an elevator and if you want a WC or a lavatory you have to say bathroom even if there isn't a sign of a bath there. And no one dies in America, they pass away or they're deceased and when they die the body, which is called the remains, is taken to a funeral home where people just stand around and look at it and no one sings or tells a story or takes a drink and then it's taken away in a casket to be interred. They don't like saying coffin and they don't like saying buried. They never say graveyard. Cemetery sounds nicer. ~ Frank McCourt

Filthy tight, the dress is filthy
I'm falling flat and my arms are empty
Clear the way, better get it out of this room
A fallen woman in dancing costume ~ P.J. Harvey

I shook my head. "Tomorrow you won't even remember my name, my face - "
He stepped closer, eyes scanning me. "Emerson Wingate. Dark hair with reddish highlights. Bright blue eyes." His gaze dipped, roaming over me. "Hundred ten. Hundred fifteen pounds. Your hands . . ." He plucked one of my hands up, pressing his palm flush to mine. He considered our kissing palms, my hand so much smaller than his own. The tips of my fingers barely passed his middle knuckle.
"Beautiful hands." My chest tightened at his deep voice washing over me. "Slender. Fine-boned but strong. Like they play an instrument. Piano maybe?" His eyes locked with mine. A dark eyebrow arched in question.
"I-I paint," I admitted.
He smiled as if he had just solved some kind of puzzle. "You paint," he echoed and continued, marking characteristics like he was reading off a chart. "Skin smooth. Pale. A tight little body perfect for tying guys up in knots."
My eyes shot to his face and I yanked my hand away from his. I rubbed my palm against my thigh, still feeling his touch there. "Go to hell."
"Temperamental." He gave me his half smile. "See? I'll remember you. ~ Sophie Jordan

I stared at the pictogram of a burger nestled between similar representations of shakes, sodas, and fries, on the front of my register. I wondered why humankind seemed so dead set on destroying all of its accomplishments. We draw on cave walls, spend thousands of years developing complex language systems, the printing press, computers, and what do we do with it? Create a cash register with the picture of a burger on it, just in case the cashier didn't finish the second grade. One step forward, two steps back
like an evolutionary cha-cha. Working here just proved that the only thing separating me from a monkey was pants. ~ Lish McBride

Inside my head, I shit my pants. ~ Max Allan Collins

Dorothy's coming up. I think she's tight."
"That's great." I picked up my bathrobe. "I was afraid I was going to have to get some sleep."
She was bending over looking for her slippers. "Don't be such an old fluff. You can sleep all day." She found her slippers and stood up in them. "Is she really as afraid of her mother as she says?"
"If she's got any sense. Mimi's poison."
Nora screwed up her dark eyes at me and asked slowly: "What are you holding out on me?"
"Oh, dear," I said, " I was hoping I wouldn't have to tell you. Dorothy is really my daughter. I didn't know what I was doing, Nora. It was spring in Venice and I was so young and there was a moon over the ... "
"Be funny. Don't you want something to eat? ~ Dashiell Hammett

The shaven head and the man in white pants and the black woolen ~ William Peter Blatty

What are you doing here?"
"Coming to pick you up for tonight."
"I'm not going."
"Would it help if I lowered to my knees and said please?" He started to go down.
I hit his shoulder. "Stop that. You're embarrassing me."
He dragged his gaze over my body. "You look beautiful."
"Whatever." I wore black yoga pants and a shirt with Star War's Yoda flipping the bird on the front.
"I love the way your clothes hug your body."
"I love the way you continue to invade my privacy. ~ Kenya Wright

Kim [Kardashian]'s style is very sexy - she loves anything tight that hugs her body - and she's also very trendy. ~ Kim Kardashian

Time has a way of evening things out, the simple ways endure, and the fancy pants with his smart new way falls by the roadside. The best way to tell how long a thing will last is ask how long it's been around for. The newest things end soonest. And things that have been around for a good long while will last awhile to come. ~ Marcel Theroux

Um, Faythe?" Marc reached for my arm, and a small grin turned up one corner of his beautiful mouth. "As my first official piece of advice to the new Alpha, let me suggest that you put on some pants. And maybe a shirt." His grin grew and pulled me closer to whisper in my ear, while Jace watched us stiffly from across the room. "While the look definitely works for me, I'm thinking the other Alphas might take you more seriously if you dress the part. ~ Rachel Vincent

Tod's eyes widened and his irises swirled in tight twists of blue. "Well, I don't see that I have much of a choice, considering that's part of Reaper Law."
"There's a Reaper Law?"
"Of course. 'A reaper is Trustworthy, Loyal, Helpful, Friendly, Courteous ... '" He shrugged. "It gets boring after that. But this situation is clearly covered under the 'helpful' category."
I rolled my eyes. "I think that's the Boy Scout law."
"They took it from us. But they left out all the good stuff. ~ Rachel Vincent

I borrowed this from Kyle. My other shirt was pretty filthy."
"Wow, you're wearing each other's clothes now. That's, like, best friend stuff."
"Feeling left out?" said Kyle. "I suppose you want to borrow a black T-shirt too."
"As long as everyone's wearing their own pants."
"I see have come in on a fascinating moment in the conversation." Eric poked his head through the curtain. ~ Cassandra Clare

I cover a yawn with the back of my hand.
"Go on up to bed, lass." Logan stands, brushes off his pants and picks the broom up from the floor. "I'll finish here."
I drag myself up too. "I thought you don't sweep fucking floors?"
Logan winks. And, right there in that dim little coffee shop, he steals a piece of my heart forever.
"In your case, I'll make a fucking exception. ~ Emma Chase

Listen. There is a sound like the knocking of railway trucks in a siding. That is the happy concatenation of one event following another in our lives. Knock, knock, knock. Must, must, must. Must go, must sleep, must wake, must get up - sober, merciful word which we pretend to revile, which we press tight to our hearts, without which we should be undone. How we worship that sound like the knocking together of trucks in a siding! ~ Virginia Woolf

Norm Zuckerman was approaching seventy and as CEO of Zoom, a megasize sports manufacturing conglomerate, he had more money than Trump. He looked, however, like a beatnik trapped in a bad acid trip. Retro, Norm had explained earlier, was cresting, and he was catching the wave by wearing a psychedelic poncho, fatigue pants, love beads, and an earring with a dangling peace sign. Groovy, man. His black-to-gray beard was unruly enough to nest beetle larvae, his hair newly curled like something out of a bad production of Godspell. Che ~ Harlan Coben

There was no way I would pair up with this guy - the epitome of a privileged and entitled beefcake. He was everything I loathed rolled up into a tight, luscious, muscular, heady, and quixotically alluring package. My social phobias aside, I needed alone time with Ronan like a car needed a swim in the ocean. ~ L. H. Cosway

I got a pair of red, synthetic satin women's pants through the post the other day with a phone number on. That was quite strange. I haven't tried the phone number. In times of stress I may. ~ Jarvis Cocker

Putting somebody else's pants on and pretending to be somebody else is occasionally, as you grow older, horrifying. ~ James Gandolfini

The afternoon sun was bright above the cloud, lending to the scene a silvery glow that leached the sea of colour and picked out points of white light in the sand. The very raindrops seemed to shimmer in the air; the wind, blowing chill from the ocean, carried with it a pleasant, rusty smell. All this did much to dispel Devlin's torpor, and in very little time at all he was red-cheeked and smiling, his white brimmed hat clamped tight to his head with the palm of his hand. He decided to make the most of his perambulation, and return to Hokitika via the high terrace of Seaview: the site of the future Hokitika Gaol, and Devlin's own future residence. ~ Eleanor Catton

Clouds lazed in the folded arms of the hills, then billowed up and drifted away. Some tendrils twisted into tight spirals and traced the warmer ravines, behaving like mist tracking the dank fens of the marsh. The same game of physics playing on a different field of biology. ~ Delia Owens

Women have no wilderness in them They are provident instead Content in the tight hot cell of their hearts To eat dusty bread. ~ Louise Bogan

Briefer is better, so learn to write tight ~ Angela Elwell Hunt

The voice fell low, sank into her breast and stretched the tight bodice over her heart as she came up close. He felt the young lips, her body sighing in relief against the arm growing stronger to hold her. There were now no more plans than if Dick had arbitrarily made some indissoluble mixture, with atoms joined and inseparable; you could throw it all out but never again could they fit back into atomic scale. As he held her and tasted her, and as she curved in further and further toward him, with her own lips, new to herself, drowned and engulfed in love, yet solaced and triumphant, he was thankful to have an existence at all, if only as a reflection in her wet eyes. ~ F Scott Fitzgerald

Michael held me when I got inside, because I was shaking all over. That felt so good. Warm all the way down. Did I mention Michael's feet? They're all the way sexy, and he's always barefoot – he hates shoes. I wish he hated pants and shirts, too. ~ Rachel Caine

WORRY NOT, PRINCESS," Ironhorse said, and I gaped at him, not believing my eyes. Where a horse had been, now a man stood before me, dark and massive, with a square jaw and fists the size of hams. He wore jeans and a black shirt that bulged with all the muscles underneath, the skin stretched tight over steely tendons. Dreadlocks spilled from his scalp like a mane, and his eyes still burned with that intense red glow. "YOU ARE NOT THE ONLY ONE WITH A FEW TRICKS UP YOUR SLEEVE, GOODFELLOW," he said, a faint smirk beneath his voice. "NOW, GO. I WILL BE RIGHT BEHIND YOU. ~ Julie Kagawa