Yummy Words Quotes

"And when you go back to your room tonight, I'll know I'm closer to you than I was yesterday, and my bed will have your smell all over it". ~ Mia Sheridan

If I'm a bank, and I'm making risky loans, I have an incentive, if I can, to make those loans using other people's money: in other words, to make highly leveraged loans. ~ Eric Maskin

The paradise of praying is like a palace of full of precious things. ~ Lailah Gifty Akita

It is at the edge of intelligence that wisdom awaits. ~ Matshona Dhliwayo

How obvious it is now
the gift you gave him. All those letters, they were you ... All those beautiful powerful words, they were you!.. The voice from the shadows, that was you ... You always loved me! Roxanne ~ Edmond Rostand

Ooo-kay," she began slowly. "You want to have sex with me. You want to have sex with a woman to whom you've never spoken more than a few words at a time. Tell me something, Steele, is this one of those situations where any pussy will do? Is it a guy thing, coming off a mission and you'll dip into the first available well you can find?" He looked completely taken aback by her blunt language. Surprised even. Then he seemed to figure out that it was possible he'd just been insulted. "I don't fuck around," he growled. "I'm clean. I use condoms. I haven't had sex in a year." "All righty then," she said, more than a little surprised at his admission. "Maybe a little more than I needed to know." "If you're sleeping with me, you need to know. ~ Maya Banks

To life! There can never be anything more important than life! To life, my friends! ~ Mehmet Murat Ildan

Morality and religion are but words to him who fishes in gutters for the means of sustaining life, and crouches behind barrels in the street for shelter from the cutting blasts of a winter night. ~ Horace Greeley

A woman uses about 20,000 words per day while a man uses about 7,000. ~ Louann Brizendine

We are not going to achieve a new world order without paying for it in blood as well as in words and money. ~ Arthur M. Schlesinger, Jr.

Words accumulate. And once they're free there's no taking them back.

You can do an awful lot of damage with a handful of words. Destroy a friendship. End a marriage. Start a war. Some words can break you to pieces.

But that's not all. Words can be beautiful. they can make you feel things you've never felt before. Gather enough of them and they can stick those same pieces back together, provided they're the right words, said at the right time. But that takes more courage than you'd think. ~ John David Anderson

Good words cool more than cold water. ~ John Ray

There come times when I have nothing more to tell God. If I were to continue to pray in words, I would have to repeat what I have already said. At such times it is wonderful to say to God, "May I be in Thy presence, Lord? I have nothing more to say to Thee, but I do love to be in Thy presence." ~ Ole Hallesby

She received fine silk gloves and music boxes and even a curled lock of prickly white hair tied with a red velvet ribbon. That particularly appalling gift had even come with a poem:

Roses are red, violets are blue,
I would even trim my mustache for you!

She had memorized the short stanza against her will and the words had nauseated her on multiple occasions since. ~ Marissa Meyer

So wet," he murmured.
The words shocked her. She wanted to hear more.
He stilled, resting his temple against hers. His breath stirred her hair as he traced her intimate flesh in slow, tantalizing strokes.
"For me?" he whispered. The vulnerable rasp in his voice undid her.
She kissed his jaw. "For you. Only you. ~ Tessa Dare

Everything that Traffic ever did, I'd give Steve a complete lyric, titled, written out with the verse, the bridge, the shape and rhyme and then Steve had to figure out how the meter of the words would fit musically. ~ Jim Capaldi

The man followed me. "I will wipe that which is displeasing to God off the face of the earth!" he boomed. "The ground will soak up your blood!"
I had at least two smart retorts to these sinister words on the tip of my tongue. (Soak up my blood? Oh, come off it, this is tiled floor.) But I was in such a panic that I couldn't get a word out. The man didn't look as if he'd appreciate my little joke at this moment anyway. In fact, he didn't look as if he had a sense of humor at all.
I took another step back and came up against a wall. The killer laughed out loud. Okay, so maybe he did have a sense of humor, but it wasn't much like mine. ~ Kerstin Gier

It's like trying to describe a color you've never seen before. Words can't make you understand what real love is like. But until you've felt it ... you haven't really lived. ~ Lisa Kleypas

Mummy dying with it; Christ dying with it, nailed hand and foot; hanging over the bed in the night-nursery; hanging year after year in the dark little study at Farm Street with the shining oilcloth; hanging in the dark church where only the old charwoman raises the dust and one candle burns; hanging at noon, high among the crowds and the soldiers; no comfort except a sponge of vinegar and the kind words of a thief; hanging for ever; never the cool sepulchre and the grave clothes spread on the stone slab, never the oil and spices in the dark cave; always the midday sun and the dice clicking for the seamless coat. ~ Evelyn Waugh

Being born a human was not the first time God made Himself small so that we could have access to Him. First He shrunk Himself when He revealed the Torah at Mount Sinai. He shrunk Himself into tiny Hebrew words, man's finite language, so that we might get to Him that way. Then He shrunk Himself again, down to the size of a baby, down into manger finiteness. ~ Lauren F. Winner

So the first thing to remember is how not to allow words unnecessarily. When there is a need, you can use them, but when there is no need remain empty, remain nonverbal, mouna, remain silent. ~ Osho

And then there are those you stop counting the years with because they are here to stay.
They are here. And they aren't going anywhere.
Nothing will make them flinch.
Nothing will make them think twice.
They know you at your worst,
the worst you didn't even know you had.
They know the sound of your mood swings, the color of your anger, how you curse when you curse, how you shout when you throw a tantrum. They know when you're avoiding a subject. They know when you're lying. They know when you're jealous. They know your vices by heart and they celebrate them. They celebrate you-- vices included.
They know your lost dreams and how life fucked you over. They know the battles you lost. And they think your fabulous when you think you're just an unlucky mediocre person who once thought will make it big in life.
They know the last time you were happy. They see the unspoken sadness in your eyes. They know the words behind your silence. They know the photographs playing in your mind when you're looking afar.
They know YOU, the naked YOU, the raw YOU, not the embellished YOU people see, not the YOU that will be read in biographies or in elegies once you're dead, not the YOU that introduces you to others.
They love you from the bottom of their heart. They are your family regardless of their blood. They are your squad. They are your people.
And no matter how many times you make them open the door, they can't walk out. They just can't ~ Malak El Halabi

Merrill Hartweiss scales a rocky incline toward Renna. The noon sun bakes the hillside as Merrill's boots dig into the broiling sands. Yet another gypsy tune enters his head. It starts off slowly. A lone guitar, its strings strummed with the lustful passion of a young man brushing his fingertips softly against the breasts of his lover. Another guitar joins, like a second hand, exploring her hot flesh, stroking the side of her bare abdomen, and gradually moving upward toward her chest. Then, a female voice joins the guitars; it is slightly raspy, yet sultry; filled with a fiery allure. The guitars pick up in intensity and tempo. There is a rhythmic clapping now, in synchronization with the strumming. The man has entered his lover.

Sweat begins to form on Merrill's forehead, then quickly turns to vapor, dissipating into the blistering heat from the sunlight reflecting off the sands. Steady clapping, louder still. The tempo quickens, progressively and with a vigorous intensity. The man arches his back, cresting then falling; cresting, arching, rising and falling deeper again and again into his lover. The clapping, now faster, still rhythmic, but so much more intense. The guitars keep pace with increasing ferocity. In the woman's voice, short, quick breaths form words as she cries out her lover's name from deep within the throes of a forbidden love ~ Angel Rosa

Softly, he said, "Why are you crying?"
His words made the tears flow faster.
"Kestrel."
She drew a shaky breath. "Because when my father comes home, I will tell him that he has won. I will join the military."
There was a silence. "I don't understand."
Kestrel shrugged. She shouldn't care whether he understood or not.
"You would give up your music?"
Yes. She would.
"But your bargain with the general was for spring." Arin still sounded confused. "You have until spring to marry or enlist. Ronan…Ronan would ask the god of souls for you. He would ask you to marry him."
"He has."
Arin didn't speak.
"But I can't," she said.
"Kestrel."
"I can't."
"Kestrel, please don't cry." Tentative fingers touched her face. A thumb ran along the wet skin of her cheekbone. She suffered for it, suffered for the misery of knowing that whatever possessed him to do this could be no more than compassion. He valued her that much. But not enough.
"Why can't you marry him?" he whispered.
She broke her word to herself and looked at him. "Because of you. ~ Marie Rutkoski

What Melanie did was no more than all Southern girls were taught to do: to make those about them feel at ease and pleased with themselves. It was this happy feminine conspiracy which made Southern society so pleasant. Women knew that a land in which men were contented, uncontradicted, and safe in possession of unpunctured vanity was likely to be a very pleasant place for women to live. So from the cradle to the grave, women strove to make men pleased with themselves, and the satisfied men repaid lavishly with gallantry and adoration. In fact, men willingly gave the ladies everything in the world, except credit for having intelligence.
Scarlett exercised the same charms as Melanie but with a studied artistry and consummate skill. The difference between the two girls lay in the fact that Melanie spoke kind and flattering words from a desire to make people happy, if only temporarily, and Scarlett never did it except to further her own aims. ~ Margaret Mitchell

It's three words "Alter your life" which mean change your life. It's not so easy, but it's not so hard everyone can do it. ~ Deyth Banger

We are all women you assure me? Then I may tell you that the very next words I read were these – 'Chloe liked Olivia …' Do not start. Do not blush. Let us admit in the privacy of our own society that these things sometimes happen. Sometimes women do like women. 'Chloe liked Olivia,' I read. And then it struck me how immense a change was there. Chloe liked Olivia perhaps for the first time in literature. Cleopatra did not like Octavia. And how completely Antony and Cleopatra would have been altered had she done so! As it is, I thought, letting my mind, I am afraid, wander a little from Life's Adventure, the whole thing is simplified, conventionalized, if one dared say it, absurdly. Cleopatra's only feeling about Octavia is one of jealousy. Is she taller than I am? How does she do her hair? The play, perhaps, required no more. But how interesting it would have been if the relationship between the two women had been more complicated. All these relationships between women, I thought, rapidly recalling the splendid gallery of fictitious women, are too simple. So much has been left out, unattempted. And I tried to remember any case in the course of my reading where two women are represented as friends. There is an attempt at it in Diana of the Crossways. They are confidantes, of course, in Racine and the Greek tragedies. They are now and then mothers and daughters. But almost without exception they are shown in their relation to men. ~ Virginia Woolf

Do you live here now Lola?" Not-Joe asks from behind the counter as I walk past him to the back of the store. "Because if so, I could show you how to run the register so I can go smoke a blunt." "I heard that," Oliver mumbles from across the store. He looks up as I pass and gives me a little smile. There are a thousand words in that tiny expression, and I don't speak the language. ~ Christina Lauren

Man cannot live upon words, however he may try. ~ Swami Vivekananda

The Lawyers' trade is a trade built entirely on words. And so long as the lawyers carefully keep to themselves the key to what those words mean, the only way the average man can find out what is going on is to become a lawyer, or at least to study law, himself. All of which makes it very nice
and very secure
for the lawyers. ~ Fred Rodell

You're used to city noise and the sounds that come from being in such a crowded place covering up what you don't want people to hear. In the great wide open, there isn't anything to hide behind and all sound carries. You get used to saying what you mean out here and you learn real quick that words are permanent. You can try and take them back but they always linger." "I'll ~ Jay Crownover

Inspiring others is the pathway to your own discoveries ~ Robin Craig Clark

A word is a bridge. It is a wave of light and sound that spans the perceived distance between one thing and another. ~ Thomas Lloyd Qualls

Unlearn, I pray you, this "for," ye creating ones: your very virtue wisheth you to have naught to do with "for" and "on account of" and "because." Against these false little words shall ye stop your ears. ~ Friedrich Nietzsche

You drink milk out of the carton while in your underwear?" Alex laughed.
"You've never done that? Gotten up in the middle of the night and wanted a snack?"
"Yes, but I wouldn't bother to put on my underwear."
He watched my face as his words sank in.
"What do you ... oh." I frowned. "Wouldn't that be cold? ~ Nichole Chase

Maybe the American Dream is too rich for us now in the U.S. Maybe we're losing it because we are not like our Swedish grandmother who came across the plains, hacked down the trees, and took the Spanish words she encountered and made them hers. Now her great-great-grandchildren sit terrified, wondering what to do with all these Mexicans. The American Dream is an impossible affirmation of possibility. And maybe native-born Americans don't have it anymore. Maybe it has run through their fingers. ~ Richard Rodriguez

Is it not meningitis? ~ Louisa May Alcott

A person who does not enter the new [Rastakhiz] party ... is either an individual who belongs to an illegal organization, or is related to the outlaw Tudeh Party, or in other words is a traitor. Such an individual belongs in an Iranian prison, or if he desires, he can leave the country tomorrow ... because he is not an Iranian, he has no nation, and his activities are illegal and punishable according to law. ~ Mohammed Reza Pahlavi

I have always known
that you will visit my grave.
I see myself as a small brown bird,
perhaps a sparrow, watching you
from a low branch as you pray
in front of my name.
I will hear you
sound out my epitaph: Aqui descansa
una mujer que quiso volar.
You will recall telling me
that you once dreamed in Spanish,
and felt the words
lift you into flight.
The sound of wings
will startle you when you say "volar,"
and you will understand. ~ Judith Ortiz Cofer

I have no words to describe the way you make me feel. ~ Dhiren Prajapati