Sweet Quotes - Page 128

A girl's not a watermelon you plug a hole in to see if it's sweet.

See?” I’d whispered to Bones, nudging him with a grin. “He never argues with her. Isn’t that sweet?” A snort preceded his response. “Keep dreaming, pet.

Mencheres. Bones co-ruler, grandsire, Master vampire of incredible power, and the ally who unnerved me the most, had telekinetically held me down so Bones could boink me into submission enroute to the vampire holding cell? Sweet holy Jesus, let me have hallucinated hearing that!

Sweet bleedin’ Christ,” Bones interrupted. “Try not to let this turn you into a Ghost Whisperer, hmm? Adopting Fabian is one thing, but we’re already turning away spooks by the dozen. If you want another pet, we’ll get you more cats.

And so, from the first, we separated our pleasure. She lay on the rug and I lay at right angles to her so that only our lips might meet. Kissing in this way is the strangest of distractions. The greedy body that clamors for satisfaction is forced to content itself with a single sensation and, just as the blind hear more acutely and the deaf can feel the grass grow, so the mouth becomes the focus of love and all things pass through it and are re-defined. It is a sweet and precise torture.

I exist. It's sweet, so sweet, so slow. And light: you'd think it floated all by itself. It stirs. It brushes by me, melts and vanishes. Gently, gently. There is bubbling water in my mouth. I swallow. It slides down my throat, it caresses me — and now it comes up again into my mouth. For ever I shall have a little pool of whitish water in my mouth - lying low - grazing my tongue. And this pool is still me. And the tongue. And the throat is me.

O land and soil, red soil and sweet-gum tree, So scant of grass, so profligate of pines

Charity is that sweet-smelling savor of Jesus Christ, which vanishes and is extinguished from the moment that it is exposed.

All children are sweet at five. But at twelve they begin to get silly.

Sweetness of life depends to its bitterness.

I farm taro. I have eight varieties of taro, which is a staple of the Hawaiian people from about 2,000 years ago, and sweet potatoes, and it's a sustainable living, agriculture, off the grid.

If you are what you eat, in my case, I'd be sweet so come and get some.

Rosanne Daryl Thomas's tale of her enchantment by bees is a delight to read. It also contains close observations of the natural world, tales of failure and triumph with the hives, and a stellar cast of characters that includes her daughter, their cats, the hapless Farmer Tom, Pete the crossing guard, and, most important, the Bee Master. Every word tastes sweet as honey.

I was a very quiet kid. A really sweet kid, I might add.

That was what she really wanted. To forget so thoroughly she'd never have another memory again, the bitter so bitter you gave up the sweet.

You're probably gonna find this hard to believe, but I was sort of weird when I was a kid." Salvatore "Sally" Sweet

There's me and then there's you, and you aren't ever going to be as good as me, Sweet Thing." Ranger

I might believe I had unusual talent if I did not know what good music was; I might enjoy half an hour's practice a day if I were busy and happy the rest of the time. You do not know what life means when all the difficulties are removed! I am simply smothered and sickened with advantages. It is like eating a sweet dessert the first thing in the morning.

You need to look hot now that you've got three guys giving you the eye."" Three?" "Sweet blue-eyed blond trapper... Muscled blond trapper number two, who buys you cards... And that gorgeous, 'Where have you been all my life' dude with the raven-black hair and dark eyes.

He'd do what he always did, find the sweet among the bitter.

Studs Lonigan, on the verge of fifteen, and wearing his first suit of long trousers, stood in the bathroom with a Sweet Caporal pasted on his mug.

Nature, they say, doth dote, And cannot make a man Save on some worn-out plan Repeating us by rote: For him her Old World moulds aside she threw And, choosing sweet clay from the breast Of the unexhausted West, With stuff untainted shaped a hero new.

Fate loves best such syllables as are sweet and sonorous on the tongue.

Beauty hath no true glass, except it be in the sweet privacy of loving eyes.

A mother's love — how sweet the name! What is a mother's love? — A noble, pure and tender flame, Enkindled from above, To bless a heart of earthly mould; The warmest love that can grow cold; This is a mother's love.