A Quote by Jeaniene Frost
Brave words in a room full of pulseless creatures. Spade gave Don a disgusted glance while Rodney just licked his lips. No doubt he was mentally salting and peppering Don.
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You ought to have seen Frédéric with his monocle, his greying whiskers, his calm demeanour, carving his plump quack-quack, trussed and already flamed, throwing it into the pan, preparing the sauce, salting and peppering like Claude Monet's paintings, with the seriousness of a judge and the precision of a mathematician, and opening up, with a sure hand, in advance, every perspective of taste.
His lips covered hers as he laid the gauze on her leg. Fiery pain shot through her flesh as his lips swallowed her cry, then replaced it with such amazing sensation she wanted to whimper in return. He licked her lips. He didn’t steal her kiss. He didn’t take it. He cajoled it from her.
When I see a spade, I call it a spade. I'm glad to say I have never seen a spade. The man who would call a spade a spade should be compelled to use it. It's the only thing he's fit for.
The monster licked his lips, long lines of whiskers twitching, and spoke in a deep growl. "Pretty, aren't I?" Curran. In midform. I broke from his gaze. "Adorable.
You don't need a pickup line. Just glance at a woman from across the room. Glance - don't stare.
A man in the crowd asks: Hey Rodney, how'd you get started? Rodney: I was 12 years old, alone in my room, and I got started!
I wanted to use a totally different part of my brain. It's quite scary at times. I went for learning to fly because it was most difficult of all. The insurance man just sat there and licked his lips when I told him.
He grinned when I didn't protest, and lowered his mouth toward mine. The first touch was just that - a touch. A teasing, tempting softness. I licked my lips and Patch's grin deepened. "More?" he asked. I curled my hands into his hair, pulling him closer. "More.
Lips move; lips touch; lips signal. Lips are on the outside for show, and on the most secret inside of your mouth. Lips frame words that lie. Lips frame a hole that wants to be filled.
We're confronted with great darkness as a species right now as spiritual creatures on this planet. I don't think it's hopeless, and I don't want 'You've Never Seen Everything' to make people feel hopeless. But I think we've got to call a spade a spade.
Two large prominent eyes that rolled about to no purpose (for he was utterly short-sighted) a wide mouth, thick lips and inflated visage, gave him the air of a blind trumpeter. A deep untuneable voice which, instead of modulating, he enforced with unnecsessary pomp, a total neglect of his person, and ignorance of every civil attention, disgusted all who judge by appearance.
King Duncan looked up and swept his gaze slowly around the room. Cassandra, he saw, was defiant as ever. Arald's face was set and determined. Halt and Crowley's faces were inscrutable in the shadows of their cowls. The two younger men were both a little wide-eyed- obviously uncomfortable at the emotions that had been bared in the room. There was still a hint of admiration in Will's eyes, however, as he continued to stare at the Baron. Rodney was nodding in agreement with Arald's statements, while Gilan made a show of studying his nails.
The brave pilot gave his life defending his faith, country and nation and joined other Jordanian martyrs who gave their lives for Jordan.
She was battered and beaten up, and not smiling this time. Liesel could see it on her face. Blood leaked from her nose and licked at her lips. Her eyes had blackened. Cuts had opened up and a series of wounds were rising to the surface of her skin. All from the words. From Liesel's words.
She was aware of the movement of his lips as he pressed soundless words in her palm. He released her, and the look he gave her seemed to reveal the depths of his lustful, longing, bitter soul. "Good-bye, Miss Fielding," he said hoarsely.
Once in Persia reigned a king
Who upon his signet ring
Graved a maxim true and wise,
Which if held before the eyes
Gave him counsel at a glance
Fit for every change and chance.
Solemn words, and these are they:
"Even this shall pass away."
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