Capt. Stuart Kinder: [while the dozen are cavorting with the prostitutes in the guards' barracks] I wonder if any of them even know it's Mother's Day. Major John Reisman: [glances at Kinder and pauses briefly] is it?
Beast: [singing] She glanced this way, I thought I saw... And when we touched, she didn't shudder at my paw. No, it can't be; I'll just ignore... But then, she's never looked at me that way before...
You regard us here neither as thieves nor as robbers. Today, as in the time of Pilate, Christ the Savior is accused. Once again there is mocking and scorn, slander and noisy jubilance. But he remains yet, and his glance embraces sinners with unending...
No time to see, in broad daylight, Streams full of stars, like skies at night. No time to turn at Beauty's glance, And watch her feet, how they can dance. No time to wait till her mouth can Enrich that smile her eyes began.
With a sigh of relief, Clary glanced back over her shoulder. Magnus was standing at the door to the cottage, his arms folded across his chest. Catching her eye, he grinned and dropped one eyelid in a single, glittering wink.
I needed something else, some kind of juice. He gave me a hooked-eyebrow glance and took a showy swig of the water. Mmm, he said, smacking his lips. Water-juice. It's fantastic.
I glance down his body. He's still wearing his shorts and his shirt, and I still have my T-shirt on. Jeez-- talk about wham, bam, thank you ma'am.
Free women," said Anna, wryly. She added, with an anger new to Molly, so that she earned another quick scrutinizing glance from her friend: "They still define us in terms of relationships with men, even the best of them.
The sheath that held her soul had assumed significance - that was all. She was a sun, radiant, growing, gathering light and storing it - then after an eternity pouring it forth in a glance, the fragment of a sentence, to that part of him that cherish...
She glanced again toward Vincent. "And who is he again?" Vincent grinned. "I'm Vincent Blackman of the SpiderSly Company. Mirren and I are going to sleep together; we just have to get through this bullshit of her father's first.
I'm sorry to disturb you, madam,' said Nurse, 'but I thought I'd better speak to you. It's about Miss Delia's knickers' she continued, after a glance at the Vicar and a rapid decision that his cloth protected him. 'She really hasn't a pair fit to wea...
Bob Dylan may be the Charlie Chaplin of rock n' roll. Both men are regarded as geniuses by their entire audience. Both were proclaimed revolutionaries for their early work and subjected to exhaustive attack when later works were thought to be inferio...
John had been a footman nearly all of his adult life. He knew decorum and appropriate behavior for his situation. But when he glanced from one twin to another, he nearly ruined his reputation and self-respect forever with...a smile.
He pointed a shaking finger at her. 'You,' he growled. She jerked glances over both of her shoulders looking for the unfortunate You he was addressing. Her. Holy shite, this madman had settled on her.
In the morning, when she walked to the consulate, carefully watching her sandals on the pavement, she glanced up and saw a Negro wearing a stack of panama hats. Maybe twelve. She never forgot the bandoeon of brims, the perfect stutter of hat.
Does that sort of blatantly lascivious glance generally sway women to jump into your bed?" she asked tartly. "Often enough to make it worth the attempt.' He grinned. "Besides, it need only work occasionally. "a man must sleep sometime.
On the stage Tristen bent over the piano, his fingers swift and sure, his blond hair gleaming under the spotlight. I glanced around at the audience, watching their faces, gratified that they were as captivated as I was by the dark, thunderous song th...
Some women are meant to change the world, while others are meant to hold it together. And then there are those of us who simply don't want to be in it, because we know no matter how much we struggle, we can't comfortably fit.
Harold had become, over the past week, a connoisseur of silences. He was an expert at differentiating the particulars; was this a Tranquil Silence, marked by slow sighs and peaceful smiles? Or was it a Tired Silence, marked by ornery chair shifting? ...
Love is a flicker. It’s that hidden desire. It’s the words you’re afraid to say. It’s stolen glances. It’s the passive-aggressive hints. It’s the mixed signal. It’s the first brush against his hand. It’s the first time you daydream ab...
So, we're not enemies anymore?" She said. "I never said I wanted to be, believe me. When I saw you sitting in your own, eating lunch, all I wanted to do was fool around and make you smile." He shot her a shy glance.
