What,” came a deep male voice, “is this?” Silence froze, her hand still outstretched, clutching a damp, dirty cloth. Oh, dear Lord. Slowly she raised her eyes and found herself face-to-thighs with Mickey O’Connor’s extremely tight breeches.
As I walk through the redwood trees, my sneakers sopping up days of rain, I wonder why bereaved people even bother with mourning clothes, when grief itself provides such an unmistakable wardrobe.
I hope haven't given up on the S.Q.'s of the world, Reynie. As you see, there are a great many sheep in wolves' clothing. If not for S.Q.'s good nature, we'd never have escaped.
Except that today, oblivious to everyone, there is a hair standing tall inside his shorts: a single hair: long, black and shining. Sprouting out of nowhere, it stands rebelliously erect on his tiny barren orb, not thwarted by the force of the cloth o...
Let us depart instead for the fields of Dreams and wander those blue, romantic hills where stands the abandoned tower of the Supernatural, where cool mosses clothe the ruins of Idealism. Let us, in short, indulge in a little fantasy!
Isn't language amazing? I can't get over it. Sometimes you can just say things and its like a bomb that blows all your clothes off and suddenly there you are naked. I don't know if its disgusting or beautiful.
I have a body like a mannequin. I must, because instead of women trying to get me naked, they only want to see me with clothes on.
Power lines are great places to hang my clothes—especially since my closet is full of birds. I make love like I have wings and know how to fly.
Have faith my friends, because love will find you eventually. It found me, and I was wearing camouflage clothing, face paint, and cologne that smelled like the wilderness.
In the Pretty Woman shopping scene, it’s not really about the clothes, or how much they cost, or how great she looks. When Vivian leaves the store, she’s not only a pretty woman, she’s a different woman. It gets me every time.
Walking in the mountain with bare foot, Teasing the flowers with heavy soot, Touching the grasses, climbing the horses, swinging the girls It is joyful, jolly like the flying. Swimming in the rivers, tearing the clothes and burning the shoes Angel of...
Claire coaxed free another loop of cloth. The slow side of cotton against cotton matched the soft tenor or her voice. 'I have lots of talents Mr. Ryland. Listening is only one of them.
I applied my reason at every moment. Reason is excellent for getting food, clothing and shelter. Reason is the very best tool kit. Nothing beats reason for keeping tigers away. But be excessively reasonable and you risk throwing out the universe with...
It's simple: Women who pick at their food hate sex. Women who suck the meat off of lobster claws, order (and finish) dessert- these are the women who are going to rip your clothes off and come back for seconds.
Sydney sighed and stood up, smoothing her rumpled clothes with dismay. 'I need a coffee shop or something.' 'I think I saw one in a cave down the road,' I said. That almost got a smile from her.
It was nothing. We played tic-tac-toe for a while. You know we do that sometimes." "Oh, I know," Teagan says. "Okay, how did you make that sound like we were rolling around ripping off each other's clothes?
When something needs to be ironed I put it in the ironing basket. If a year goes by and the item is still in the basket I throw the item away. This is a good system since eventually I end up only with clothes that don’t need ironing.
Clothing and features fade with time. I am happy with who I am today, and I am happy with who I will be tomorrow.
Want to keep Christ in Christmas? Feed the hungry, clothe the naked, forgive the guilty, welcome the unwanted, care for the ill, love your enemies, and do unto others as you would have done unto you.
They left their encampment with dirt-covered linen strewn about the abandoned grounds amongst clothes, shoes, children’s toys and other discarded belongings. The handcart wheels crunched over them, and the dry wheels screamed as the Willie Company ...
What is a parent, really, but somebody who picks up the things a child leaves behind - a trail made of stripped off clothing, orphaned shoes, tiny bright plastic game pieces, and nostalgia - and who hands back each of these when its needed?
