Want To Hug Him Quotes

It's confusing. I don't know if I want to hug him, slap him or fuck him. ~ Victoria Ashley

You said no, though," he says, slightly muffled. "When I asked you out. That one time."

"Wait, what?"

"That time at work? I asked you to the movies, and you said you would invite Vera?"

I pull back a bit. "That wasn't - you weren't asking me out. You said I could come, too, if I wanted. That's not asking someone out."

"It was to me," he says, sheepish, and I want to poke him, but I also kind of want to hug him forever.

"Next time you want to ask someone out, maybe be less subtle. Maybe try to use the word date or together. Maybe phrase it as an actual question, you know, get some upward inflection going at the end of the sentence?"

He just looks at me, a little bit like he wants to poke me, but maybe also hug me forever. Instead he just kisses me, and it's a long time before we break apart again. ~ Emma Mills

It wasn't okay. I didn't want her to leave. I didn't care if Jesus wanted her or not. She was my mommy. He could take an old mommy. One that didn't have little boys to take care of. ~ Jamie McGuire

He wonders by what process virtually any discussion about the war seems to profane these ultimate matters of life and death. As if to talk of such things properly we need a mode of speech near the equal of prayer, otherwise just shut, shut your yap and sit on it, silence being truer to the experience than the star-spangled spasm, the bittersweet sob, the redeeming hug, or whatever this fucking closure is that everybody's always talking about. They want it to be easy and it's just not going to be. ~ Ben Fountain

It is not for us to know who does and does not manage to accept forgiveness, but if the love really never stops, if God really does long for every lost soul, then in principle God regards as forgivable a whole load of stuff we really don't want forgiven, thank you. People who use airliners to murder thousands of office workers, people who strut about Norwegian summer camps stealing the lives of teenagers with careful shots to the head, people who drive over their gay neighbor in their pick-up truck and then reverse and do it again, people who torture children for sexual pleasure: God is apparently ready to rush right in there and give them all a hug, the bastard. We don't want that. We want justice, dammit, if not in this world then in the next. We want God's extra-niceness confined to deserving cases such as, for example, us, and a reliable process of judgment put in place which will ensure that the child-murderers are ripped apart with red-hot tongs. ~ Francis Spufford

Because everyone deserves love. A hug is a display of love that begins on the physical end of the spectrum but bleeds into the emotional end of the spectrum if you let it, if you give into it. It's the most innocent, pure form of physical human connection there is. It only takes two willing people, who don't even have to know each other, to participate. Two willing people who want that exchange. It's so easy, but there are people who never get them. People who never get them, ~ Kim Holden

In my view, there are many different kinds of hugs. There are the ones you give to huggers, people who hug all the time. These, to me, are by far the least special of all hugs. I see the outstretched arms for the third time in as many days-the expectation of an embrace- and I am drawn in by a feeling of good manners rather than sincere closeness. It's like shaking hands. There are also those I hug only once in a great while because I hardly ever see then, but who I don't necessarily feel that close to. Those kinds of hugs are probably the most awkward. I'm expected to hug so I do it, even if I'm not sure I want to. Hugs like these are brief, and I am always left wondering what sort of look the other person had on their face where I couldn't see. And then there are HUGS. Like the hugs my parents give me when I'm having a bad day, any sort of hug from Armon the giant, or a hug like the one with Yipes right now. Yipes and I are not apt to embrace each other unless there's a good reason to do it, but when there is a good reason, it's a hug that feels like it ought to. ~ Patrick Carman

I'm in my classroom and I'm looking at this girl, but all I can see is my dad on the ground, in front of The Wall, telling the truth, finally - his knees drawn and his chest heaving - and when people pass by they look the other way, except for this one lady who stops to give my dad a hug. She gets down on her knees to reach him, and now she's crying with a stranger, and without asking I know it's because she's lost something, too, and I wonder if in comforting my dad she thinks she can find it again. Probably not. It doesn't work that way. ~ Tucker Elliot

O, how I wanted to hug him! O, how I wanted to pour our my affection! But there are times, I was learning, when one must not, on any account, give in to impulse. It was, I suppose, what they mean by the whole idea of "being British": holding oneself in check for the greater good; substituting the encouraging word for the crushing embrace. ~ Alan Bradley

Leave your brother alone, baby girl. He's going adventuring. Lucky bastard." His dad dragged him into a bear proportioned hug. "Bring me back some images of the local ladies. Naked ones if you can," he whispered. "You'd need eyes to look at those, Geoffrey," his mother retorted. While they argued about his dad's interest in the human body as art, Naomi clutched his tear soaked shirt in her fists and shook him. "Be careful." "Aren't I always?" "No. ~ Eve Langlais

Have you ever been in a demon rumble before, Jenna?" I asked.
Hoisting her own demonglass dagger, she shook her head. "Nope. I have a feeling it's going to be super violent."
"Maybe we can talk to them," I said, rubbing my nose with the back of my hand. "Have a little sit-down chat."
"With tea."
"Ooh, yeah, with the nice china, and those little sandwiches that don't have crusts."
Cal came to stand with us. Aislinn and Finley were getting to their feet, but I could tell they were far away from optimum Brannick strength. "I don't want to kill these kids," Cal said.
"Neither do I. But I don't want them to kill me, either."
"Not sure what we want is going to matter that much," Jenna said. I stared out into the trees, hearing my fate move closer.
And here's the thing: I knew I was supposed to be courageous. I was supposed to use my magic for as long as I could, and be all Braveheart about it. But I didn't want to. I wanted to cry. I wanted to hug my mom and dad again. I wanted to see Archer. And I wanted to know that I'd done more here than just delay Aislinn's and Finley's deaths by a few minutes.
So there was no stoic badass facing down the demon hordes. There was just a teenage girl with tears streaming down her face, her two best friends on either side of her, as all kinds of hellish creatures rushed forward. ~ Rachel Hawkins

Love is an afternoon of fishing when I'd sooner be at the ballet.
Love is eating burnt toast and lumpy graving with a big smile.
Love is hearing the words 'You're beautiful' as I fail to squeeze into my fat jeans.
Love is refusing to bring up the past, even if doing so would be a slam dunk to prove your point.
Love is your hand wiping away my tears, trying to erase streaks of mascara.
Love is the warm hug that extinguishes an argument.
Love is a humbly-uttered apology, even if not at fault.
Love is easy to recognize but so hard to define; however, I think it boils down to this ...
Love is caring so much about the feelings of someone else, you sacrifice whatever it takes to help him or her feel better.
In other words, love is my heart being sensitive to yours. ~ Richelle E. Goodrich

You'll meet a lot of stupid guys. You'll probably get your heart broken more than once. You might reach a point where life seems worthless without him. Maybe you've already hit that point. I can't tell you to to stop crying, because sometimes, crying helps. I can't ask you to smile, because sometimes, it's all you can do to just breathe. I can't make you happy, because that's something you have to do yourself. But I can promise you one thing. I will be there for you. I will listen if you need to rant. I will hug you if you're feeling alone. I will drive you away if you need to escape. I will buy you coffee, goddammit, if you need some. I will be there for you, because you've always been there for me. ~ Alysha Speer

If you're angry at a loved one, hug that person. And mean it. You may not want to hug - which is all the more reason to do so. It's hard to stay angry when someone shows they love you, and that's precisely what happens when we hug each other. ~ Walter Inglis Anderson

Where's the baby?"
"I just fed and changed him," Haven said.
Hardy lifted Luke's carrier and gave it to Jack, who took it with his free hand.
"Thank you." I gave Haven a woeful glance as she handed me the diaper bag. "I'm sorry."
"For what?"
"For falling asleep like that."
Haven smiled and reached out to hug me. "There's nothing to be sorry about. What's a little narcolepsy among friends?"
Her body was slim and strong, one small hand patting my back. The gesture surprised me in its naturalness and ease.
I returned the embrace awkwardly. Haven said over my shoulder, "I like this one, Jack."
Jack didn't answer, only nudged me out into the hallway.
I trudged forward, nearly blind with exhaustion, staggering with it.
It took extreme focus to keep one foot in front of the other. "I don't know why I'm so tired tonight," I said. "It's all caught up with me, I guess."
I felt Jack's hand descend to the center of my back, guiding me forward. I decided to talk to keep myself awake. "You know, chronic sleep deper . . . dep . . ."
"Deprivation?"
"Yes." I shook my head to clear it. "It gives you memory problems and raises your blood pressure. And it results in occupational hazards. It's lucky I can't get hurt doing my job. Unless I fall forward and hit my head on the keyboard. If you ever see QWERTY imprinted on my forehead, you'll know what happened."
"Here we go," Jack said, loading me onto the elev ~ Lisa Kleypas

I want to hug you so tight so that when I leaves You it pains to You then only You would realize how much it hurts to me in Your absence! ~ Divinely Devoted

People hate that I flip two cigarettes
Upside down in each pack
for luck,
But I hate that people notice
When you gain three pounds,
But not when you buy a new hat.
I've been told that the way I sleep
With one leg draped over
The person lying next to me
Is annoying,
But I think it's annoying
When people tell me
I look pretty,
But only when I paint my face.
I've heard that old men
Like to touch the girls who work late at bars,
But I want to know
Why they never kiss the women they married
forty-two years ago.
I've noticed that mothers teach their daughters
That it's rude to refuse a hug
From an uncle they've met three times,
But forget to teach them
That they aren't obliged to kiss
The boy who paid for dinner. ~ Thewriterandthewildflower

Want to create the best Christmas ever? Forgive someone who doesn't deserve your forgiveness. Hug a stranger. Pass on something that you want to keep for yourself. Spend time with the ones you love. Spend time on your knees. Decorate your life with light and laughter. Love yourself while you're loving others. Christmas is about Christ and Christ is all about your joy and happiness. ~ Toni Sorenson

Relatives can be tricky when you are undergoing treatment for a disease or are in the throes of any sort of tragedy. Some want to do too much, some too little. But some are just right. A pie left on your back porch is just right. A hug in the hallway. A book of poems sent through the mail. ~ Alice Hoffman

Did you ever see mum and dad hug?' Yngve said.
I walked back to him.
'No,' I said. 'Not that I can remember. Did you?'
He nodded in front of me in the semi-darkness.
'Once. It was in Hove, so I must have been five. Dad was yelling at mum so much she burst into tears. She was standing in the kitchen crying. He went into the living room. Then he went back and put his arms around her and consoled her. That's the only time. ~ Karl Ove Knausgaard

Our victimization in a way, can turn us into bullies because, the other person isn't doing something that we want and we get hurt. That way we get to bully that person and tell them basically you're a bad person for hurting me but, if you're burned all over and I give you a gentle hug and I dont know it, I'm not hurting you so to speak. It's the burns that are hurting you. ~ Stefan Molyneux

Sometimes you just want to hug someone and drown. ~ Alamvusha

Rodney turned me to look at him and held my upper arms in his hands. "If he hurts you, I can't be held accountable for what I do." "I love you, you know that?" I replied and reached up on my toes to hug him. ~ Shelly Crane

It's funny how you can be mad at someone one moment and want to hug them the next. ~ Anne Morrow Lindbergh

I want to hug you. And I want to tear your gods-damned head off. Both at once."
"Ah," said Locke. "Near as I can tell, that's the definition of 'family' right there. ~ Scott Lynch

In the living room Derek sprawled on the floor on a blanket, his eyes closed, his body human, corded with hard muscle, and covered only with a strategically placed towel. Julie knelt by him, long tweezers in her hand.
"What's going on?"
"Quills," she said. "Very thin quills. There was a magic plant and he decided it would be a good idea to give it a hug. Because he is smart that way."
So they had taken Julie with them. Considering where I'd gone and what I did while there, I didn't have room to talk.
Derek didn't bother opening his eyes. "I wasn't giving it a hug. I was shielding Ella."
"Mm-hm." Julie plucked a thin needle from his stomach. "You shielded her really well. Because it's not like we didn't have Carlos with us."
Carlos was a firebug. The plant must've gotten torched.
"We'll need to work on mixed-unit tactics," Curran said. He looked tired. It must've been hell. "So what did you do in Mishmar?"
Umm. Ehh. In my head I had somehow expected Erra to stay in Mishmar.
"I saw my father," I said. Start small.
"How was that?" Curran asked.
"He's a little upset with me."
"Aha."
"I broke Mishmar a little bit."
The three of them looked at me.
"But it was mostly my grandmother who did it."
"How much is a little bit?" Derek asked.
"There might be a crack. About maybe seven feet at the widest point."
Derek laughed.
"And what else?" Curran asked.
Perceptive bastard.
"And this." ~ Ilona Andrews

If I want to know how I'm doing at work, I don't wait for a pat on the back; I ask the people who will give me a clear, objective opinion. When I need a real, arms-wrapped-around-me hug, I go to someone who does that. I stopped getting disappointed by my expectations from non-huggers. ~ Chandra Wilson

I didn't know if I should hug him, and he didn't seem to know if he should hug me, so we just sort of stood there not touching, which to be honest is my preferred form of greeting. ~ John Green

Then J.D. appeared at the door. He was alone. She found Sam's eyes. They were filled with defeat. She was about to go to him when his face suddenly brightened. Glancing toward J.D., she saw Michael come up from behind. He was wearing a new blazer and slacks, looking adorable and terribly grown-up. Annie felt a great swelling fullness inside as Sam excused himself and strode across the room. He stopped several yards from Michael and waited. Annie stopped, too, with her heart in her throat. Michael didn't once take his eyes from Sam. He blinked and swallowed. In a flash of Annie's memory, he was a scared little boy on his first bicycle, with Sam calling, "You can do it, Mike. Give a push off, then pedal. That's it. Good boy. Keep going. You've got it." With the videocam in one hand and his eyes filled with sudden determination, he walked forward. That was all Sam needed. He met the boy halfway in a hearty hug. "I'd just about given up hope. ~ Barbara Delinsky

If I see my fans crying, I just want to give them a hug ... and tell them I love them. ~ Austin Mahone

I don't care." - Bakura

"I'm not going to kill you, just destroy you a little. Geez, talk about overreacting!" - Marik

"So then he goes to me with the tea pot and he goes, 'Why so British?'." - Bakura

"Now I can't that friggin song out of my head! Thanks Odion, thanks a bunch!" - Marik

"Not a kitty!" - Bakura

"Maybe we should hug him, Bakura. I mean he seems like an okay guy." - Marik ~ Little Kuriboh Marik And Bakura

When I swung open the door, there he was: Marlboro Man, wearing Wranglers and a crisp white shirt and boots. And a sweet, heart-melting smile.
What are you doing here? I thought. You're supposed to be in the shower. You're supposed to be with the sex kitten.
"Hey," he said, wasting no time in stepping through the door and winding his arms around my waist. My arms couldn't help but drape over his strong shoulders; my lips couldn't help but find his. He felt soft, warm, safe…and our first kiss turned into a third, and a sixth, and a seventh. It was the same kiss as the night before, when the phone call alerting him to the fire had come. My eyes remained tightly closed as I savored every second, trying to reconcile the present with the horror movie I'd imagined just moments earlier. I had no idea what was going on. At that point, I didn't even care.
"Ummmmm!!! I'm t-t-t-ttellin'!" Mike teased from the top of the stairs, just before running down and embracing Marlboro Man in a bear hug.
"Hi, Mike," Marlboro Man said, politely patting him on the back.
"Mike?" I said, smiling and blinking my eyes. "Will you excuse us for a couple of minutes?"
Mike obliged, giggling and oooo-ing as he walked toward the kitchen.
Marlboro Man picked me up and brought my eyes to the level of his. Smiling, he said, "I've been trying to call you this afternoon."
"You have?" I said. I hadn't even heard the phone ring. "I, um…I sort of took a nine-hour nap."
Ma ~ Ree Drummond

It's not like I'm going to run up and hug him."
His expression turned bland. "I'd sure hope not. I might get jealous."
"You'd get jealous if she hugged a tree," Archer tossed out.
"Maybe." Daemon coasted to a stop in a parking space behind the car. "I'm needy like that. ~ Jennifer L. Armentrout

As Livia parked her in the lobby, Bea offered a suggestion with her gentle hug. "You might want to go back and close those church doors. Fumigating is best done in private. ~ Debra Anastasia

The drawings make you smile," he replied with a grin. "Working on the speech doesn't do anything."
That...that was so sweet, I wanted to hug him tight, kiss him, too. "Working on your speech will make me smile, too."
His brows lifted and then he flipped his notebook closed. "I know what else will make you smile."
"What? You actually doing some homework?"
"Nope." He glanced at the door again and then rose. "I think me sitting closer to you will make you smile."
The boy knew me well.
He took a step closer. "I think holding your hand will make you smile."
I straightened as I watched him.
"And I think..." He sat on the edge of the bed and twisted his body toward mine. "I think kissing you will make you smile, too. ~ Jennifer L. Armentrout

When we walk in, everybody turns to look at us. Pres looks down at our joined hands and then looks to Knox. I open my mouth to say something, but he beats me to it.

Of course he does.

"Yo. Little announcement here. Violent Violet and I are together. She's my old lady and I'm her old man. Yada yada yada, we're getting married. So there's that."

I look at him, and I feel my jaw pop open. "Did you just yada yada your proposal to me?"

Knox shrugs like it's no big deal. "Wasn't going to let you tell me no."

The big scarred-up guy comes over and gives him a high five. "Best way to do it," he says and pats Knox on the back.

"About time you made an honest man out of him," Pres says, walking over and giving me a hug. I feel Knox's hand tighten, and he doesn't let it go while I awkwardly try to hug the guy back.

"We're all a family here now, and it's going to stay that way. We agreed that you're patched in, regardless if you marry this nerd or not."

I lean into Knox and laugh. "Thank you."

"Welcome to the Ghost Riders," Pres says, and suddenly I hear a champagne cork pop and we're all being sprayed with suds.

I try to turn into Knox's chest, but he holds me in front of him so I get covered.

As more champagne is popped and more bottles get poured, Knox spins me in his arms and raises me up so we are at eye level.

"I love you, baby," he says, kissing me on ~ Alexa Riley

Ben didn't disappoint. "See? You lost it and lived to tell about it." His voice dropped to a conspiratorial whisper. "You even survived a man hug." He rounded his eyes in feigned astonishment.
Wiping at his puffy eyes with his fingers, a watery laugh escaped him. "You always were an affectionate little shit. ~ Kaylea Cross

I took the stairs two at a time, excited to have company today. When I opened the door I gasped and stood there in shock a moment before saying, "Patti, it's awesome!"

She had decorated with my school colors. Royal blue and gold streamers crisscrossed the ceiling, and balloons were everywhere. I heard her and the twins come up behind me, Patti giggling and Marna oohing. I was about to hug Patti, when a movement on the other side of the room caught my eye through the dangling balloon ribbons. I cursed my stupid body whose first reaction was to scream.

Midshriek, I realized it was my dad, but my startled system couldn't stop its initial reaction. A chain reaction started as Patti, then both the twins screamed, too.

Dad parted the balloons and slunk forward, chuckling. We all shut up and caught our breaths.

"Do you give all your guests such a warm welcome?"

Patti's hand was on her heart. "Geez, John! A little warning next time?"

"I bet you're wishing you'd never given me that key," Dad said to Patti with his most charming, frightening grin. He stared at her long enough to make her face redden and her aura sputter.

She rolled her eyes and went past him to the kitchen. "We're about to grill," she said without looking up from the food prep. "You're welcome to stay." Her aura was a strange blend of yellow and light gray annoyance.

"Can't stay long. Just wanted to see my little girl on her graduat ~ Wendy Higgins

Sometimes he feels a pull towards Francesca. She was the reason he came into the group. It was her misery that united them and somehow her personality that kept them together when everyone split. She's the one that writes the letter to kept the world informed. She listens to the news every hour to make sure everyone's safe. So tonight he walks away even though she's moved forward to give him a hug. Because he wants to kiss her, and knows she'll hate him for it and that he'll hate himself. He knows it's for all the wrong reasons and that he'll end up thinking of Tara Finke and her Brazilian peacekeeper and will Trombal and how he doesn't do romance, but it eats the space between him and Francesca every time he's in the room with her. ~ Melina Marchetta

Rule One: Make friends with death
Tailgating in the Antarctic is no joke. We are trying to do nothing less ambitious than reverse the course of history. We want Team Krill to defeat Team Whale.
Look, if you want to tailgate in comfort, don't get on the boat. You can buy some quail eggs or snails or whatever you people eat and you can watch the Food Chain Games on your flat TV. Stay in Los Angeles. Hug your wife on your plush banquette. Cheer for the Antarctic minke whales, like every other asshole.
No, wait a second, here comes the real Rule One: if you are a supporter of Team Whale, you can go fuck yourself, my fine sir.
This list is for the fans of Team Krill. ~ Karen Russell

I put my head on his shoulder
'Wh-what are you doing?' he yells, shoving me away from him with wide eyes.
'I was giving you a hug!' I say.
'Y-you-!'
'Pff. D'you really think I'd do that? I'm trying to keep warm, idiot. You're like my overgrown Furby.'
'I'm in a human form, not my kytaen!'
'Tomayto, tomahto.' I come close to him.
He pushes me away. 'You shouldn't be doing that!'
'What's the problem? You said you're my tool, right? Well, I'm cold, tool of mine, so why don't you calm the hell down and give me some of that sweet, sweet warmth?'
'Don't touch me!'
'I'm starting to think you're self-conscious in this form. You let me cuddle you in your other-'
'We did not cuddle!' he shouts.
I manage a grin. 'Would you prefer I use a different word? Snuggle, maybe? ~ Giselle Simlett

Picture yourself when you were five. in fact, dig out a photo of little you at that time and tape it to your mirror. How would you treat her, love her, feed her? How would you nurture her if you were the mother of little you? I bet you would protect her fiercely while giving her space to spread her itty-bitty wings. she'd get naps, healthy food, imagination time, and adventures into the wild. If playground bullies hurt her feelings, you'd hug her tears away and give her perspective. When tantrums or meltdowns turned her into a poltergeist, you'd demand a loving time-out in the naughty chair. From this day forward I want you to extend that same compassion to your adult self. ~ Kris Carr

If you want your children to grow up to be healthy and independent, you should hold them, hug them, cuddle them, and love them. Give them a secure base and they will explore and then conquer the world on their own. ~ Jonathan Haidt

Wendy goes further, and although she has worked with him on several occasions since the disbandment of The Revolution – and wanted to emphasise to me that though she was feeling down on him the day we talked, her feelings about him fluctuated (Lisa adding that if he walked into the room now, they'd both give him a hug) – sometimes she did feel annoyance. 'People wanna talk about him all the time, and I'm happy to, but sometimes it's hard. Yeah, he was great, he was better than most, but he's not now. ~ Matt Thorne