A Quote by Julia Quinn
Caroline stamped her foot in frustration, but when it landed, it landed on something considerably less flat than the floor. "Owww!" he yelled. Oh! His foot!Sorrysorrysorrysorrysorrysorry , she mouthed.I didn't mean it. "If you think I can understand that," he growled, "you're crazier than I'd originally thought.
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Percy, we're going to Polyphemus' island! Polyphemus is an S-i-k...a C-y-k..." She stamped her foot in frustration. As smart as she was, Annabeth was dyslexic, too. We could've been there all night while she tried to spell Cyclops. "You know what I mean!
Michael Bisping, we had a five round battle. I beat him for five rounds and tripled the amount of strikes landed. I landed more take-downs in that fight than had been landed on him in his entire career.
Um. Charles thinks that his wolf has chosen me as his mate." "In less than one full day?" It did sound dumb when he said it that way. "Yes." she couldn't keep the uncertainty of her her voice, though, and it bothered Charles. He rolled to his feet and growled softly. "Charles also said I was an Omega wolf she told his father. That might have something to do with it as well." Silence lengthened and she began to think tha the cell phone might have dropped the connection. Then the Marrok laughed softly. "Oh his brother is going to tease him unmercifully about this.
I think there is something about L.A., fortunately: once you get one role people think, 'Oh well, someone employed her, so maybe we can.' I mean, that's my idea of it, anyway. 'She can put one foot in front of the other and say a line.'
Alex gazed at her. Her mouth was slightly open; she ran her fingernail against her lower teeth as she thought. She'd knotted her hair at the nape of her neck again, and a strand had slipped loose onto her shoulder, gleaming in the lantern light. Suddenly all of his objections seemed meaningless. Don't, he thought. You'll regret it. He didn't care anymore. Slowly, unable to stop himself, he reached out and cupped his hand around her foot.
Indeed Not. Stop kicking me, Daine. You understand, she is very important to a number of powerful nobles and mages in Tortall." Numair's voice was quiet, almost friendly; his eyes were hard. "Their majesties. Lady Alanna and her husband, the baron of Pirate's Swoop. Me. All of us would take iit amiss if we thought for a moment she was being trifled with, particularly by a young man who wasn't free to do the right thing by her." "Numair," Daine growled. "Can I speak to you privately for a moment? "No. Stepping on my foot won't work either. Do I make myself clear, Prince Kaddar?
She spoke under her breath to Nick. "Is there a reason he's only wearing one sock?" "He puked on his foot." "Oh." She turned back to Huxley. "Can we get you another sock? Maybe a blanket or something?
You see, if the height of the mercury [barometer] column is less on the top of a mountain than at the foot of it (as I have many reasons for believing, although everyone who has so far written about it is of the contrary opinion), it follows that the weight of the air must be the sole cause of the phenomenon, and not that abhorrence of a vacuum, since it is obvious that at the foot of the mountain there is more air to have weight than at the summit, and we cannot possibly say that the air at the foot of the mountain has a greater aversion to empty space than at the top.
A lot of women don't like when they're sort of fat, but a fat foot is as beautiful as a skinny foot. Think of Greek statues. Look how many people love the foot of the baby! There is something super-charming about the baby foot.
This big part flies off on the floor. The other part goes like this and lands in my foot! Standing up! It's standing in my foot! Right in the side of my foot. The flute glass. I think I'm like in one of my own pictures.
What I essentially did was to put one foot in front of the other, shut my eyes and step off the ledge. The surprise was that I landed on my feet.
A bookshelf is as particular to its owner as are his or her clothes; a personality is stamped on a library just as a shoe is shaped by the foot.
She lay on her back and walked her fingers down her ribs, skipped them over her abdomen, and landed on her pelvic bones. She tapped them with her Knuckles. [. . .] I can hear my bones, she thought. Her fingers moved up from her pelvic bones to her waist. The elastic of her underpants barely touched the center of her abdomen. The bridge is almost finished, she thought. The elastic hung loosely around each thigh. More progress. She put her knees together and raised them in the air. No matter how tightly she pressed them together, her thighs did not touch.
Love!' said the princess. She stamped her foot. 'Why must everyone always speak of love?
She was a beautiful woman dragging a crippled foot and I was that foot. I was bricks sewn into the hem of her clothes, I was a steel dress
A 3-foot putt can be more nerve-racking than a 9-foot putt because a 3-foot putt you should be getting in. A 9-footer, there's a chance it won't go in.
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