A Quote by Abbi Glines
Hold onto me baby. I'm going to take care of you." The raspy need in his voice only made me more desperate.
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You think you need me, little firecracker?” The gruff question travels all the way through me, and I have to press my thighs together to stop the tremor in me. “Baby, the way you need me can only barely cover half of the way I need you.” The unexpected sadness in his voice yanks my gaze back to his.
I'm raspy, and if I wasn't a smoker, I'd still be raspy. My pops has a raspy voice, and my grandfather.
I get to keep you,” he said, staring at me with an intensity that made me shiver. “Keep me?” I asked, reaching up to kiss his chin and trail kisses down his perfect neck. “Not here. I can’t take much more, Pagan. I’m only so strong,” he said in a husky voice as he pulled me against his chest. “You’re mine now. While you walk the Earth you belong to me. Nothing can hurt you.” I heard a touch of humor in his voice. “It’s pretty impossible to hurt what Death protects.
You won't kiss me for diamonds," he said, his voice slightly raspy, "but you will for chocolates?" Poppy nodded.
With me having this raspy voice, people always asked when I was going to sing on a song. When I was going at it with 50, people were saying I don't sing on my own hooks. That always stuck in my head and people always told me I had to use my own voice not just to rap.
I get this a lot: 'Oh, can you take a picture with my baby? Can you hold the baby?' I don't want to hold your baby! I'll hold my baby. I don't like holding someone else's baby. I'm serious! You never know what could happen. It's such an awkward position you're put in, and it's like, 'No, sorry.'
I believe that the Lord is going to take care of me. I know His will is the only way that can judge me or put me in my place.
The fanatic is not really a stickler to principle. He embraces a cause not primarily because of its justness or holiness but because of his desperate need for something to hold onto.
But for me, I knew that if I had a baby, I would have to take care of that baby, and I wouldn't have been happy with a nanny taking care of my baby and walking into the room and having my child run across the room to another woman.
She laid her head against his collarbone, and he kissed her temple. To her shock, she felt a shudder roll through his body about the same time she registered wetness against her skin. Tears. His tears. She started to turn around, but he tightened his grip. “Stay,” he said in a choked voice. “Just let me hold you, baby. Just let me hold you.
It's a challenge for me to make people like me. Maybe it's just my desperate need for people to like me, that I choose the characters I have to play. You will like me, I don't care what I've done, you're going to like me.
When people see me on TV, they become very happy because they don't have to interact with me. When they start interacting with me, they ask me questions like I'm a baby or treat me like I'm a baby and hold me like I'm a baby, and that's what they do wrong, really.
Rachel,” came a raspy voice from the upper level, and both Trent and I turned. It was Quen, wrapped in a blanket as if it was a death shroud, the black-haired intern at his side, supporting him. His hair was plastered to his skull with sweat, and I could see him wavering as he stood there. “Don’t touch Trenton,” he said, his gravelly voice clear in the hush, “or I’m going to have to come down there…and smack you around.
For months, my parents had been trying to prepare me for the arrival of a real sibling. They had given me a doll to play with and encouraged me to take care of her. And when the baby, a little boy they named Rahm, finally arrived, they encouraged me to help take care of him, too.
Don't let anyone take care of you. Can you maybe leave that for me to do? I mean, take care of you? Feel free to take care of me in return... because I think I'll need you to do that.
When I was young, I did Baby Guess and Guess Kids - Paul Marciano saw me when I was a baby and decided I was going to be his next whatever. After Guess Kids, my mom made me stop. She would not let me sign with an agency until I was 17 because she wanted me to be a normal kid and accept myself for who I was.
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