A Quote by Ann Aguirre

My heart shifted a little in my chest; it seemed to swell and beat against my bones until I couldn't hear. — © Ann Aguirre
My heart shifted a little in my chest; it seemed to swell and beat against my bones until I couldn't hear.
I press my ear against his chest, to the spot where I always rest my head, where I know I will hear the strong and steady beat of his heart. Instead, I find silence.
The idea of a spiritual heart transplant is a vivid image to me; once you have the heart of somebody else inside you, then that heart is there. Jesus' heart is inside me, and my heart is gone. So if God were to place a stethoscope against my chest, he would hear the heart of Jesus Christ beating.
He made a sound of frustation, caught at her hand, brought it to his chest, and pressed it flat over his heart. The steady beat hammered against her palm. "Every heart has its own melody," he said. "You know mine.
Music makes my heart beat. The more i hear, sing and perform on stage my heart beats stronger than ever. I want to live like this until the day i die.
Then why are you crying?” “Because of you!” I beat my fists on his chest. “Because I love you, and I don’t know what to do! I can solve almost any problem, but I can’t solve this. I don’t know how to deal with that. And I’m afraid! Afraid for you! Do you know what it’d do to me if something happens to you?” I stopped hitting him and clasped my hands over my own chest, as though there was a danger my heart might fall out. “This! This would break. Shatter. Crumble. Crumble until it was dust.” I dropped my hands. “Blown away on the wind until there was nothing left.
Kylie watched as his shirttail upward, exposing a very hard abdomen. The hem of his shirt inched higher, and she took in the cutest inny belly button she'd ever seen. And then his chest. Solid. Hard. A few drops of water glistened against his skin. Hear heart beat to the sound of passion again.
Could she smell my breath? Could she hear my cursed circular heart beat revolving like the crime it is in my deathly chest?
With Woods arms wrapped around me and the beat of his heart pressed against my chest, I knew he would hold me steady. If I ever fell, I’d have him to catch me.
Pressed up against him, I can feel the thud of his heart against mine, his ribcase expanding and contracting rapidly against my chest, the warm whisper of his breath tickling the side of my neck, the brush of his leg against my thigh. Resting my arms on his shoulders, I pull back a little to get a look at his face. But he isn't smiling any more.
Where should the scholar live? In solitude, or in society? in the green stillness of the country, where he can hear the heart of Nature beat, or in the dark, gray town where he can hear and feel the throbbing heart of man?
Heart broken-he felt a deep ache in his chest, like that of a sore muscle, and each beat of his heart pained him
At the door , she made him promise to go without goodbyes .She closed the door on him . Laila leaned her back against it , shaking against his pounding fists , one arm gripping her belly and a hand across her mouth , as he spoke throughout the door and promised that he would come back for her . She stood there until he tired , until he gave up , and then she listened to his uneven footsteps until they faded , until all was quiet , save for the gunfire cracking in the hills and her own heart thudding in her belly , her eyes , her bones .
She hugs me. It's tentative at first, a little scared, and yes, a little repulsed, but then she melts into it. She rests her head against my cold neck and embraces me. Unable to believer what's happening, I put my arm around her and just hold her. I almost swear I can feel my heart thumping. But it must just be hers, pressed tightly against my chest.
Tess, Tess, Tessa. Was there ever a more beautiful sound than your name? To speak it aloud makes my heart ring like a bell. Strange to imagine that, isn’t it—a heart ringing? But when you touch me, that is what it is like, as if my heart is ringing in my chest and the sound shivers down my veins and splinters my bones with joy.
The human heart was not designed to beat outside the human body and yet, each child represented just that - a parent’s heart bared, beating forever outside its chest.
Harry found the [tea]... seemed to burn away a little of the fear fluttering in his chest.
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