A Quote by Kelley Armstrong

His cheek twitched. With Jeremy, this was the equivalent of an emotional outburst. — © Kelley Armstrong
His cheek twitched. With Jeremy, this was the equivalent of an emotional outburst.
Anger begins as an inner twinge. We sense something long before it blossoms (explodes?) into an emotional tirade. If we listen to this twinge -- and follow its advice -- the emotional outburst (or in burst) is not needed.
People criticising me for my emotional outburst are not humans.
He has the strangest expression on his face- the emotional equivalent of 404 PAGE NOT FOUND.
In the new artisan coffee movement, Jeremy Challender, a 32-year-old Australian who is one of the founders of Prufrock Coffee, explains precision is everything for the barista. Jeremy is able to analyse his coffee with the benefit of an app on his phone.
There are some situations which men understand by instinct, by which reason is powerless to explain; in such cases the greatest poet is he who gives utterance to the most natural and vehement outburst of sorrow. Those who hear the bitter cry are as much impressed as if they listened to an entire poem, and when th sufferer is sincere they are right in regarding his outburst as sublime.
It's really interesting that whenever you do something that is so out of character, like having an emotional outburst, that you don't get in trouble.
I loved most when his eyelashes twitched and he blinked, and suddenly happiness was there inside his eyes. Unmistakable. Like a single word printed on a clean white page.
The extraordinary thing about Irving Berlin is that he's like the American Mozart! It seems as if his songs were always there. How do you put together songs like 'Always' or 'Cheek To Cheek'? Songs of his are, frankly, perfect.
Have you ever been anyone's?" I ask, a feathery whisper in the quiet bedroom. He lifts his head to mine, and I want him so bad I feel consumed inside, like he's already possessed my soul, and now my soul aches for him to possess my body. A powerful emotion tightens his features as he reaches out to cradle my cheek in his big hand, and there's an unexpected fierceness in his eyes, in his touch, as he cups me. "No. And you?" The calluses in his palm rasp on my skin, and I find myself tucking my cheek deeper into them. "I've never wanted to." "Neither have I." The moment is intimate.
To throw a shoe at a man in Dundee is the equivalent of a kiss on the cheek and an embrace in London. Dundee is a very different place; they have their own rules.
Foaly twitched his tail contentedly. Genius. No point in being humble about it.
- No, no... She shook her head for emphasis. No. His lips twitched. - One 'no' is enough, darling.
Two Windclan apprentices were wandering toward them. Fireheart twitched his ears to warn his friends they had an audience. "Oh, yes," meowed Ravenpaw, raising his voice. "We loners eat Clan apprentices whenever we can catch one.
I knew that, without killing the creative mood, I had to keep the balance between my emotional outburst and the merciless discipline of a super-personal control, thus submitting myself ti the self-imposed law of dance composition
The opponent strikes you on your cheek, and you strike him on the heart by your amazing spiritual audacity in turning the other cheek. You wrest the offensive from him by refusing to take his weapons, by keeping your own, and by striking him in his conscience from a higher level. He hits you physically, and you hit him spiritually.
His lion and hippo legs twitched. I wondered if netherworld monsters dreamed of chasing rabbits.
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