Toe Curling Quotes

Happy birthday. Your thirteenth is important. Maybe your first really public day. Your thirteenth is the chance for people to recognize that important things are happening to you.
Things have been happening to you for the past half year. You have seven hairs in your left armpit now. Twelve in your right. Hard dangerous spirals of brittle black hair. Crunchy, animal hair. There are now more of the hard curled hairs around your privates than you can count without losing track. Other things. Your voice is rich and scratchy and moves between octaves without any warning. Your face has begun to get shiny when you don't wash it. And two weeks of a deep and frightening ache this past spring left you with something dropped down from inside: your sack is now full and vulnerable, a commodity to be protected. Hefted and strapped in tight supporters that stripe your buttocks red. You have grown into a new fragility.

And dreams. For months there have been dreams like nothing before: moist and busy and distant, full of unyielding curves, frantic pistons, warmth and a great falling; and you have awakened through fluttering lids to a rush and a gush and a toe-curling scalp-snapping jolt of feeling from an inside deeper than you knew you had, spasms of a deep sweet hurt, the streetlights through your window blinds crackling into sharp stars against the black bedroom ceiling, and on you a dense white jam that lisps between legs, trickles and sticks, cools on you, hardens and cle ~ David Foster Wallace

I love her. I love her. I love her. I love her. And this time, I will never let her go. ~ Katy Regnery

And then - holy mother of God - he smiled at her. A knowing, toe-curling, sex-drenched smile. ~ Norah Wilson

And wrapped in Logan was a toe-curling pleasure trip. ~ Pam Godwin

And so you were in here, chatting with God?"

Bruce stared at her face, studying her features in minute detail. His voice dropped to a soft, velvety whisper. "I wanted to thank Him for my many blessings."

The burning of her eyes increased. She would not cry like some ninny just because Bruce was happy. He was a devout and wonderful person who always looked to the bright side. Knowing that prompted her to say, "You're such a good man, Bruce."

"I'm a fortunate man, in many, many ways." He made a grand gesture toward the glass blocks. "It's a beautiful, sunny day, and my very own church is almost complete."

"It is shaping up. Everyone will like it."

His thumb moved to her bottom lip with a teasing, gentle touch. "Good friends surround me, and I enjoy good health."

"All things you deserve."

He smiled. "And I've been given the greatest gift of all."

"What's that?"

He laughed, tweaked her chin. "You."

"Me?"

He slowly nodded. "God's given me a lot. But best of all, He's given me you." He took her mouth in a long, toe-curling, stomach-tightening kiss, and in a husky rumble: "I'll be thinking Him every day for the rest of my life."

-Bruce and Cyn ~ Lori Foster

And just so you know," he whispers in my ear, "our first kiss will be an unforgettably, toe-curling, heart-stopping, leave-you-breathless kind of kiss. I promise. ~ Annie Brewer

This wasn't to say that Julie had perfected only the major, most obvious dating milestones, however. She also knew how to finesse the subtler moments - those key moments where the breath caught and you thought, Yes, this. Julie could explain every single nuance, from the toe-curling euphoria when his hand brushed yours to the tingle when eyes held for just a beat too long. And then there was her personal favorite moment: the bone-deep satisfaction when you made him laugh for the first time - a real laugh. ~ Lauren Layne

Rules are where there is a lack. They are to make up the deficiency, explicit or implicit. The system of existence, being complete in itself, is in no need to follow any of them. The appearance of disorder
or even order, in contrast
is when we observe something as a detached entity. Taken as a whole, the Universe is absolute, nothing being lacking, insignificant, or improvable. So, any such thing as a Theory of Everything (TOE) is a mere chimera. ~ Raheel Farooq

I'm not going to turn on you because you are who you are." She'd known exactly who it was she'd invited into her bed and that his sexual experience far outweighed hers. "Especially," she added, fingers curling into the sheet, "when I'm the beneficiary of all that practice. ~ Nalini Singh

While it is clear that today's micropowers cannot go toe-to-toe with the world's military powers, they are increasingly able to "deny" victory to the larger, more technologically advanced players in an asymmetric conflict - and that speaks to a fundamental change in how power operates. ~ Anonymous

As the wind swelled, my tree started to sway. Almost like a human body it swung back and around, gently at first, then more and more wildly. While the swaying intensified, so did my fears that the trunk might snap and hurl me to the ground. But in time my confidence returned. Amazed at how the tree could be at once so flexible and so sturdy, I held on tight as it bent and waved, twisted and swirled, slicing curves and arcs through the air. With each graceful swing, I felt less a creature of the land and more a part of the wind itself.
"The rain began falling, it's sound merging with the splashing river and the singing trees. Branches streamed like waterfalls of green. Tiny rivers cascaded down every trunk, twisting through moss meadows and bark canyons. All the while, I rode out the gale. I could not have felt wetter. I could not have felt freer.
"When, at last, the storm subsided, the entire world seemed newly born. Sunbeams danced on rain-washed leaves. Curling columns of mist rose from every glade. The forest's colors shown more vivid, its smells struck more fresh. And I understood, for the first time in my life, that the Earth was always being remade, that life was always being renewed. That it may have been the afternoon of this particular day, but it was still the very morning of Creation. ~ T.A. Barron

Into the wind we vary,
Our hearts free of youth,
Mold me into envy,
If I can't have your muse;
Under toe,
Walk to the throne,
After centuries of life. ~ Adrianna Stepiano

Oh, please," I moan as he bites my little toe ~ E.L. James

Sefalin coddled his father's head in his lap. The old man's eyes were becoming glassy. Reminded of the elves, Lozane said, "Have you done as they say, my boy? Have you dredged up the Coda Uma and let it go to that blackheart Helix?"
Tears burst from Prince Sefalin's eyes. He couldn't speak, just nodded. His lips flushed a deeper purple. His hair was matted to his reddened forehead by blood. From head to toe he wore spatters and blotches of cadaverous slime and melting snowflakes. A vein in his temple throbbed hotly while mucus dripped from his nose. ~ Leonard Mokos

He pointed at the paper. "I want you to write me a description of every foot you've put wrong since we met. Make sure I can read your writing. You have five minutes."

Write about every foot I'd put wrong. I peered down at my feet.

I started to write: My left foot is a size eight point five. It has a high arch, and my big toe is longer than my second toe. There is a light smattering of hair on the top of my foot. I paused and stuck my left leg out, studying my shoe. Right now I am wearing Nike Frees for m -
"Bring me your paper."
I glanced at my paper. "I'm not done yet."
"One . . . two . . ."
I brought him the paper. ~ J.A. Rock

I drove out of Dartmouth and after a while Start Bay emerged out of the brightening gloom like the end of a set of parentheses in a book about the natural world. Inside the parentheses was a story about the sea. Outside them, the land: green, red and brown fields, and hills curling over the landscape. I saw small, delicate clumps of snowdrops, big rough patches of gorse, and along the thin road, houses with yellow roses and mimosa growing in their gardens. ~ Scarlett Thomas

YOU YOU YOU your eyes, thick as a high school scrapbook crackling and yellow, curling at the edges a book of myths in which i do not appear. ~ Clint Catalyst

Twisting and wiring and stringing starching and curling, delicately painting spots and shadings on scraps of silk until what had been nothing more than a pile of brightly colored fragments had been transformed into the silk irises, forget-me-not, violets and roses that would adorn the hats of women and girls more fortunate than themselves. ~ Melanie McGrath

You make me feel so safe. She brought her knees up and tucked her head beneath his chin, curling up like a kitten on his chest. If he died now, he would die happy. His chest expanded and his whole body felt alive with pleasant sensations. He could be content to stay here, without moving, forever. ~ Melanie Dickerson

My Dad was such an incredible person, and you have the option of just curling up in a dark corner and letting it all go or you have the option of standing strong, sticking together and carrying on what he lived and died for. And I think that's what's so important - to be able to carry on where he left off. ~ Bindi Irwin

My mother is from Cairo, Georgia. This makes everything she says sound like it went through a curling iron. ~ Augusten Burroughs

Have you…"
"Have I what?" Gray prompted, promptly kicking himself for doing so. God only knew what she'd ask now. Or what damn fool thing he'd say in response.
"Have you ever seen a Botticelli? Painting, I mean. A real one, in person?"
The breath he'd been holding whooshed out of him. "Yes."
"Oh." She bit her lip. "What was it like?"
"I…" His hand gestured uselessly. "I haven't words to describe it."
"Try."
Her eyes were too clear, too piercing. He swallowed and shifted his gaze to a damp lock of hair curling at her temple "Perfect. Luminous. So beautiful, your chest aches. And so smooth, like glass. Your fingers itch to touch it."
"But you can't."
"No," he said quietly, his gaze sliding back to meet hers. "It isn't allowed."
"And you care what others will allow?" She took a step toward him, her fingers trailing along the grooved tabletop. "What if you were alone, and there was no one to see? Would you touch it then?"
Gray shook his head and dropped his gaze to his hands. "It's not…" He paused, picking over his words like fruits in an island market. Testing and discarding twice as many as he chose. "There's a varnish, you see. Some sort of gloss. If I touched it with these rough hands, I'd mar it somehow. Make it a bit less beautiful. Couldn't live with myself then."
"So-" She leaned one hip against the table's edge, making her whole body one sinuous, sweeping curve. Gray sucked in a lungful of heat. "It isn't the ru ~ Tessa Dare

He felt like that: like a dark, curling force was working through him. It flooded to the tips of his fingers and warmed him. It spread his ribs wide with each breath. ~ Marie Rutkoski

I used to carry a rabbit's foot for luck. Then it was a monkey's paw. Now it's a camel's toe. ~ Kristen Schaal

For me, it's all about the haircut. I don't have a lot of hair to style, so I keep it nice and fresh and tight. I actually go to the barbershop every five days. As soon as your haircut is on point, you have to make sure your outfit is fully ironed, you smell good, and you have clean sneakers on. Pretty much the head-to-toe look. ~ Vinny Guadagnino

When you got captured, I didn't know..." He trailed off, had to chug whiskey before he could continue. "If it'd be like..."

"What?"

"Like it was with Clotile."

"Oh, Jackson, no. I was okay. I'm unharmed."

"Didn't know if I'd get there too late," he said with a shudder. Then he crossed over to me, until we stood toe-to-toe. "Evie, if you ever get taken from me again, you better know that I'll be coming for you." He cupped my face with a bloodstained hand. "So you stay the hell alive! You don't do like Clotile, you doan take that way out. You and me can get through anything, just give me a chance."--his voice broke lower "just give me a chance to get to you." He buried his face in my hair, inhaling deeply. "There is nothing that can happen to you that we can't get past."

...

"When you say we...?"

He pulled back, gazing down at me, his eyes blazing. "I'm goan to lay it all out there for you. Laugh in my face--I don't care. But I'm goan to get this off my chest."

"I won't laugh. I'm listening."

"Evie, I've wanted you from the first time I saw you. Even when I hated you, I wanted you." He raked his fingers through his hair. "I got it bad, me."

My heart felt like it'd stopped--so that I could hear him better.

"For as long as you've been looking down your nose at me, I've been craving you, an envie like I've never known."

"I don't look down at you! I'm ~ Kresley Cole

A large and comfortable double-bedded room had been placed at our disposal, and I was quickly between the sheets, for I was weary after my night of adventure. Sherlock Holmes was a man, however, who when he had an unsolved problem upon his mind would go for days, and even for a week, without rest, turning it over, rearranging his facts, looking at it from every point of view, until he had either fathomed it, or convinced himself that his data were insufficient. It was soon evident to me that he was now preparing for an all-night sitting. He took off his coat and waistcoat, put on a large blue dressing-gown, and then wandered about the room collecting pillows from his bed, and cusions from the sofa and armchairs. With these he constructed a sort of Eastern divan, upon which he perched himself cross-legged, with an ounce of shag tobacco and a box of matches laid out in front of him. In the dim light of the lamp I saw him sitting there, an old brier pipe between his lips, his eyes fixed vacantly upon the corner of the ceiling, the blue smoke curling up from him, silent, motionless, with the light shining upon his strong-set aquiline features. So he sat as I dropped off to sleep, and so he sat when a sudden ejaculation caused me to wake up, and I found the summer sun shining into the apartment. The pipe was still between his lips, the smoke still curled upwards, and the room was full of a dense tobacco haze, but nothing remained of the heap of shag which I had seen upon the previ ~ Arthur Conan Doyle

A good breakfast is better than a bad one, like a good book is better than having your toe chopped off. ~ Lemony Snicket

A surprising fact about the magician Bernard Kornblum, Joe remembered, was that he believed in magic. Not in the so-called magic of candles, pentagrams, and bat wings. Not in the kitchen enchantments of Slavic grandmothers with their herbiaries and parings from the little toe of a blind virgin tied up in a goatskin bag. Not in astrology, theosophy, chiromancy, dowsing rods, séances, weeping statues, werewolves, wonders, or miracles. What bewitched Bernard Kornblum, on the contrary, was the impersonal magic of life, when he read in a magazine about a fish that could disguise itself as any one of seven different varieties of sea bottom, or when he learned from a newsreel that scientists had discovered a dying star that emitted radiation on a wavelength whose value in megacycles approximated π. In the realm of human affairs, this type of enchantment was often, though not always, a sadder business - sometimes beautiful, sometimes cruel. Here its stock-in-trade was ironies, coincidences, and the only true portents: those that revealed themselves, unmistakable and impossible to ignore, in retrospect. ~ Michael Chabon

I'm not afraid of you, Roarke."
"Aren't you?" He moved closer, curling his hands on the lapels of her shirt. "What do you think will happen if you step over the line?"
"Too much," she murmured. ~ J.D. Robb

You don't know if the water is hot or cold until you stick your toe in. ~ Virginia DeBerry And Donna Grant

Sometimes when I prepare to write, I feel the same sensation wash over me as if my toes were curling over the brink of a high cliff, my gaze peering downward into a dark pond, and I anxiously wonder, will the water prove deep enough? Will my words be satisfactory? ~ Richelle E. Goodrich

My hairstylist taught me a trick for my hair. You section off your hair and put them up in these crazy little knots and then it looks like you curled your hair. It's saved me so much time 'cause on the road you don't have time or plugs to plug your curling iron in. ~ Sara Bareilles

I tend to wear monochromatic outfits - all one colour from head to toe. I did that when I was younger and still do that to this day. ~ Suzy Amis

I bring my hand to my face and pull away tiny pieces of the jagged scab. My face reflects in the rounded airplane window, and I see it is now a tiny Massachusetts, with Cape Cod curling toward my ear. In only a few more days it will be gone. I feel the fresh, smooth parts and marvel at how soft they are. New skin amazes me. New skin is a miracle. It is proof that we can heal. ~ A.S. King

It wasna a man,' said Andrew Kerr broadly. 'T'was my aunty. I tellt ye. I'm no risking cauld steel in ma wame for a pittance, unless all that's mine is well lookit after - ' 'An old lady,' said Lord Grey with forbearance, 'in curling papers and a palatial absence of teeth?' 'My aunt Lizzie!' said Andrew Kerr. 'She has just,' said Lord Grey austerely, 'seriously injured one of my men.' 'How?' The old savage looked interested. 'From an upper window. The castle was burning, and he was climbing a ladder to offer the lady her freedom. She cracked his head with a chamberpot,' said Lord Grey distastefully, 'and retired crying that she would have no need of a jurden in Heaven, as the good Lord had no doubt thought of more convenient methods after the seventh day, when He had had a good rest. ~ Dorothy Dunnett

The ballerina on perfected toe
Spins to the axis of a fortitude
That is the sum of all her yesterdays. ~ Djuna Barnes