Top 194 Thighs Quotes & Sayings - Page 3

The number of human deaths due to hardening of the arteries and other similar diseases suggests that human beings were not meant to eat animals; our bodies are unable to digest the animal fat effectively and it ends up stored in our blood vessels, not to mention our waist lines, buttocks and thighs!

I had a stunt double for 'The Bronze.' She's literally the most amazing human being I've ever seen. She's NCAA women's gymnastics champion. She was incredible. I would poke her thighs, and my nail would break because it was like poking a rock.

I believe every woman's body is beautiful in its own way. I have never understood that just because a woman has thick thighs, she is considered fat. For so long, I've been around in the modeling world and have tried to break that barrier. But I think now it's turning around.

In weightlessness, one of the physiological changes is a fluid shift. Your blood and fluid is equally distributed in your body. So that makes your calves and thighs and waist skinnier, and it makes your chest and women's breasts broader. The downside is your face is kind of puffy

You have city centre pubs where men go to meet girls, not realising that all girls in city centre pubs have thighs like tug boats and morals that would surprise a zoo animal.

Sometimes I catch myself if I'm shopping, and I'm like, 'I want to hide my thighs and my arms.' And then I kind of take a minute where I'm like, 'No, that's not really being kind to yourself. Maybe learn to embrace things that we're taught as women not to like.'

You have to be very deep to be dead, he thought, and I'm not. He began to have some concept of forever, and his mind shivered as his body had when he had wakened in the cold nights and thrust his hands between his thighs to keep warm. It will be a long night, he thought.

If your girlfriend is saying, 'Ugh, look at my stretch marks, look at my rolls,' don't say, 'Yeah, I hate my thighs, too.' Say, 'No, you look really cute today - and I feel good, too!'

In the drawing room [of the Queen's palace] hung a Venus and Cupid by Michaelangelo, in which, instead of a bit of drapery, the painter has placed Cupid's foot between Venus's thighs. Queen Caroline asked General Guise, an old connoisseur, if it was not a very fine piece? He replied "Madam, the painter was a fool, for he has placed the foot where the hand should be.

Left to my own devices, would I trade this for firm thighs, fewer wrinkles, a better memory? On some days. That's why it's such a blessing I'm not left to my own devices. Because the truth is I have amazing friends and a deep faith in God, to whom I can turn. I have a cool kid, a sweet boyfriend, darling pets. I've learned to pay attention to life, and to listen. I'd give up all this for a flatter belly? Are you crazy?

May your stuffing be tasty May your turkey plump, May your potatoes and gravy Have nary a lump. May your yams be delicious And your pies take the prize, And may your Thanksgiving dinner Stay off your thighs!

I love black thighs, you sisters better realize That real hair and real eyes get real guys. So before you makeup your face, you better make up your mind.

The majority of persons choose their wives with as little prudence as they eat. They see a troll with nothing else to recommend her but a pair of thighs and choice hunkers, and so smart to void their seed that they marry her at once. They imagine they can live in marvelous contentment with handsome feet and ambrosial buttocks. Most men are accredited fools shortly after they leave the womb.

I think what it is is, if you're in school and you're not that bright or good-looking or popular or whatever, and one day you say something and someone laughs, well, you sort of grab onto it, don't you? You think, well I run funny and I've got this stupid big face and big thighs and no-one fancies me, but at least I can make people laugh. And it's such a nice feeling, making someone laugh, that maybe you get a bit reliant on it. Like, if you;re not funny then you're not...anything

Show me thy feet, show me thy legs, thy thighs Show me those fleshy principalities; Show me that hill where smiling love doth sit, Having a living fountain under it; Show me thy waist, then let me there withal, By the ascension of thy lawn, see all.

I definitely am very secure with my body and my likes and dislikes and the imperfections that some might call flaws. I'm like, 'Those are my thighs; it's just what it is.' I think a lot of that has to do also with... women being a lot more vocal about the fact that, you know, being flawless is false.

Moving between her thighs, he stretched out above her, then thrust into her. Once. Because, as he did everything, he acted without hesitation or apology to claim her entirely. Her eyes went wide and her breath caught. Holding her gaze, he pressed himself deeper, barely easing back before pressing deep again.

This time of year, I live and breathe the beach. My cheeks feel raw with the wind throwing sand against them. My thighs sting from the friction of the saddle. My arms ache from holding up two thousand pounds of horse. I have forgotten what it is like to be warm and what a full night’s sleep feels like and what my name sounds like spoken instead of shouted across yards of sand. I am so, so alive.

Home is in my hair, my lips, my arms, my thighs, my feet and my hands. I am my own home. And when I wake up crying in the morning, thinking of how lonely I am, I pinch my skin, tug at my hair, remind myself that I am alive. Remind myself to step outside and greet the morning. Remind myself that it’s all about forward motion. It’s all about change. It’s all about that elusive state. Freedom.

What was the difference between love and the agony of waiting? Like love, the agony of waiting began in the muscles and somewhere around the upper belly but soon spread out to the chest, the thighs, and the forehead, to invade the entire body with numbing force.

It's not that the Democrats are playing checkers and the Republicans are playing chess. It's that the Republicans are playing chess and the Democrats are in the nurse's office because once again they glued their balls to their thighs.

Your legs feel like fried bacon after a day of climbing and descending. It's a roller coaster ride, but no one is pulling you up the mountain. You're headed toward Yosemite more than 4,000 feet of pounding the pedals. You are aware of every movement because your thighs feel tender with a sensation of pain. You push on, toward the final ascent into the valley. In front of you is a monster mountain-El Capitan. Your eyes grow wide. You take a deep breath. Suddenly, you feel only wonder.

There was scarcely a woman alive, it seemed, who could resist the urge to haul men down onto beds, car seats, kitchen floors, dining-room tables, park grass, parlor sofas, or packing crates, entwine warm thighs around them, and pant in ecstasy.

I'm kind of the model that everyone thought would always be the Guess, 'Sports Illustrated' girl. Then, when I started to do high fashion stuff... people were like, 'Oh, so we can have a girl with, like, thighs and a butt in a Tom Ford campaign. Cool.'

I don't necessarily think of myself as a feminist, but I'm a whole person. I'm not just breasts or ass or thighs - I'm a whole being! And it just seems like women aren't necessarily striving to be the whole of themselves.

I don't read all the junk. I joke if I did, I wouldn't get out of bed in the morning. But, Sometimes the comments over the top - really ugly. Many of them are critical of my looks, like the one that criticized my "thunder thighs." I get that a lot. Some of the tweets are too vulgar to repeat.

If someone is worried about bulking up their quads, they're not going to do a traditional squat. They're going to do a wide-stance squat or a plie squat, which is second position dance, opening up your legs and bringing the focus to the inner thighs and not to the quads.

The only bright spot in the entire evening was the presence of Kevin "Tubby" Matchwell, the eleven-year-old porker who tackled the role of Santa with a beguiling authenticity. The false beard tended to muffle his speech, but they could hear his chafing thighs all the way to the North Pole.

Far too many bodybuilders spend too much time exercising the smaller muscle groups such as the biceps at the expense of the larger muscle groups such as the thighs, and then they wonder why it is that they never make gains in overall size and strength.

….he grabs my wrists and pins my arms up above my head, locking them in one hand. "Are you mine?" he asks gruffly, as his hand returns between my thighs and briefly enters me. I gasp. Undone. Delirious. "I'm yours." His expression is tense, ravenous, so hot as he scrapes his finger deep into my channel. "Do you want me inside you?" My need clogs my windpipe as pleasure shoots down my legs. "I want you everywhere. All over me. Inside me.

Dead girl walking” the boys say in the halls. “Tell us your secrets” the girls whisper, one toilet to another. "I am that girl. I am the spaces between my thighs, daylight shinning through. I am the bones they want, wired on a porcelain frame.

Trust that you often need to find happiness outside your comfort zone. The journey is a lifestyle choice. Focus on your mental health and your mind just as much as the physical, if not more. All the gym in the world won't help if you don't work on finding acceptance for your muffin top or chaffing thighs.

A Halloween-haired, Sachsgate-enacting, estuary-whining, glitter-lacquered, priapic berk How dare I, from my velvet chaise longue, in my Hollywood home like Kubla Khan, drag my limbs from my harem to moan about the system? A system that has posited me on a lilo made of thighs in an ocean filled with honey and foie gras'd my Essex arse with undue praise and money.

She touched the healthy folds of skin around the baby's neck, wrists, and thighs, the dark lines crying for life made in his forehead, and thought how people start with wrinkles and end with wrinkles, grow into their skin and then live to grow out of it again.

I'm not slim. I'm a curvy girl: I've got thighs and a bum. I don't mind baring the fact that I've got a bit of cellulite because everybody has. I find it off-putting when everybody on telly is the same size or looks the same build. For me, it's important for people to watch someone normal.

Summertime, I think, is a collective unconscious. We all remember the notes that made up the song of the ice cream man; we all know what it feels like to brand our thighs on a playground slide that's heated up like a knife in a fire; we all have lain on our backs with our eyes closed and our hearts beating across the surface of our lids, hoping that this day will stretch just a little longer than the last one, when in fact it's all going in the other direction.

I've got quite an old-fashioned figure. Back in the Sixties, girls had boobs, a tummy and wide hips, and bigger thighs as well. I think that's sexy - to me, that's what a woman looks like. I've got love handles - sometimes they're passion handles! I'm built for comfort, not for speed, and I like that about myself.

When she comes She pulls you close She breathes in short bursts Her eyes close Her head tilts back Her mouth opens slightly Her thighs turn to steel, and then melt She is perfect And you feel like you are everything.

I wouldn't want to be 20 now. I know so much more, and I'm much more comfortable in my skin, saggy as it is When I hear young girls complaining about superficial things You're at the peak of your physical beauty right now! Just enjoy it and stop worrying about your thighs being too big If you're upset with how you look at 25, life's going to be tough

Duende I can't remember her name. It's not as though I've been in bed with that many women. The truth is I can't even remember her face. I kind of know how strong her thighs were, and her beauty. But what I won't forget is the way she tore open the barbecued chicken with her hands, and wiped the grease on her breasts.

I will be thin and pure like a glass cup. Empty. Pure as light. Music. I move my hands over my body - my shoulders, my collarbone, my rib cage, my hip bones like part of an animal skull, my small thighs. In the mirror my face is pale and my eyes look bruised. My hair is pale and thin and the light comes through. I could be a lot younger than seventeen. I could be a child still, untouched.

Oh, my God. What if you wake up some day, and you're 65 or 75, and you never got your novel or memoir written; or you didn't go swimming in warm pools or oceans because your thighs were jiggly or you had a nice big comfortable tummy; or you were just so strung out on perfectionism and people-pleasing that you forgot to have a big juicy creative life, of imagination and radical silliness and staring off into space like when you were a kid? It's going to break your heart. Don't let this happen.

He's at ease, his body sculpted to the music, his shoulder searching the other shoulder, his right toe knowing the left knee, the height, the depth, the form, the control, the twist of his wrist, the bend of his elbow, the tilt of his neck, notes digging into arteries, and he is in the air now, forcing the legs up beyond muscular memory, one last press of the thighs, an elongation of form, a loosening of human contour, he goes higher and is skyheld.

People say, 'You're still breast-feeding, that's so generous.' Generous, no! It gives me boobs and it takes my thighs away! It's sort of like natural liposuction. I'd carry on breast-feeding for the rest of my life if I could.

People say, "You're still breast-feeding, that's so generous". Generous, no! It gives me boobs and it takes my thighs away! It's sort of like natural liposuction. I'd carry on breast-feeding for the rest of my life if I could.

When I was playing soccer at the age of 14, the first thing we'd do before going out onto the field would be to climb up on one another's thighs and massage the legs; it was a regular thing. None of us had a thought of being gay, absolutely not, and it's the same with most bodybuilders.

A kid thinks her mother is just that -- hers. A mother is also a woman, an independent being, who doesn't want to be reminded by anyone, child or otherwise, of her tree-trunk thighs. The world made women's private lives a public affair to people who knew them and even people who didn't.

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 see the most change in my body through exercise. They say diet determines your weight, and exercise determines your shape - I find that to be a pretty true statement. When I'm doing a lot of boxing, my hamstrings are really strong and my biceps. When I'm doing a lot of Pilates, I find that my core is really lean and my inner thighs.

I didn't really have an identity crisis because I really, really knew who I always wanted to be But I definitely had a lot of problems with my body. I was very skinny, and I guess my body was sort of pre-pubescent, but when I grew hips and thighs, I just didn't know where I was in the world. It was weird.

I don't have great thighs. I have very big breasts and a soft, fatty little tummy. And I've got back fat. People assume that I'm walking around in little spaghetti-strap dresses. It's insidious - Glam Jamie, the Perfect Jamie, the great figure, blah, blah, blah. And I don't want the unsuspecting 40-year-old women of the world to think that I've got it going on. It's such a fraud. And I'm the one perpetuating it.

How many of them were there?' Her voice wasn't joking around. Eighteen. Hundred.' Four,' Blaylock interjected. 'An honor guard of four.' What did they work you over with? Those bruises on your thighs are severe?' Crowbars. Big, massive-' Blay cut in. 'Clubs. Had to be those ceremonial black clubs.

As I dive between the legs of a big Gunnar, I see Mair wind up and slam her shockstick hard as she can between the V of another guy’s thighs. Falling, he makes a noise that I can’t say I’ve heard a human utter before, sort of like I imagine a puppy would sound being put through a juicer.

You are my siren,” he said, running his hands along her thighs and down her calves, feeling the shape of her even as the silk of her gown kept them both from what they wanted. “My temptress . . . my sorceress . . . I cannot resist you, no matter how I try. You threaten to send me over the edge.

Each in the most hidden sack kept the lost jewels of memory, intense love, secret nights and permanent kisses, the fragment of public or private happiness. A few, the wolves, collected thighs, other men loved the dawn scratching mountain ranges or ice floes, locomotives, numbers. For me happiness was to share singing, praising, cursing, crying with a thousand eyes. I ask forgiveness for my bad ways: my life had no use on earth.

Don't let your image, don't let your size, hold you back. If I had let my hips or my jiggly thighs hold me back or the fact that I've got these big heavy breasts, then I would not be where I am today.

Like virtually all of the women I know, I spent my teenage years battling with my body and feeling I wasn't good enough. A lot of that negativity is because I was pursuing a career in modeling and was told countless times that my body was too big. My hips and thighs were too wide.

She is all I could ever ask for, she is perfect, and right now, with those big, green eyes and pillowy lips and alabaster thighs, the idea of doing this for the rest of our lives doesn’t seem all that daunting. She’s the last reprieve. The stay of execution. She gives me hope. But times are tough for dreamers. And even if my dream is a simple one—all I want is for Her to be in love with me forever—I know it’s still a long shot. Life ruins everything.

If you want great legs, you need to train them all around, not just the front of the thighs. Use multiple joints whenever possible. And running stairs is one of the best things you can possibly do. It has little to no impact on your joints, and you're working your glutes, hamstrings, and quads all at the same time.

She lights a match in the dark hall and moves it onto the wick of the candle. Light lifts itself onto her shoulders. She is on her knees. She puts her hands on her thighs and breathes in the smell of the sulphur. She imagines she slap breathes in light.