I had a dream about you. You were in love with me, and I only had eyes for you. Of course, I had other body parts to offer you, one long on in particular.
That's just how time travel looks like to the untrained eye. The reason why there aren't more travelers is that your average physicist refuses to be eaten by a giraffe in the name of science.
I'm trying to keep your safe!" Puck exploded, whirling on me. His eyes feverish, and I shrank back. "This isn't a game, Meghan! The shit is about to hit the fan, and you're right in the middle of it without knowing enough to duck!
You don't believe in Nature anymore. It's too isolated from you. You've abstracted it. It's so messy and damaged and sad. Your eyes glaze as you travel life's highway past all the crushed animals and the Big Gulp cups.
Hey, Ms. P," Tad called, "what's going on?" She let out a slow breath before she answered. "You won't believe this... Brian Murrey tried to eat Scott Morgan." Nick's eyes widened at the unexpected explanation. Had he heard that right?
He that has eyes to see and ears to hear may convince himself that no mortal can keep a secret. If his lips are silent, he chatters with his fingertips; betrayal oozes out of him at every pore.
yet if you had a desire for good or beautiful things and your tongue were not concocting some evil to say shame would not hold down your eyes but rather you would speak about what is just
Kids, Roberts,” she said, just to be clear. “I have fertile eggs in me, and I’m talking about having babies.” She waited for the eye twitch. Or hell, even a tiny twinge. Instead, with a smile, he pulled her in for a kiss.
She watched as the dancing lights of madness swirled and flickered in his eyes like the fires of hell, and she knew that there would never be anything that could quench those fires except death. Vanessa knew that Jango had become his own Grim Reaper.
Gratitude is the sweetest thing in a seeker's life- in all human life. If there is gratitude in your heart, then there will be tremendous sweetness in your eyes.
Eve: "She completely eye-fucked you." Roarke: "I know. I feel so cheap and used." Eve: "Shit. You got off on it. Men always do." Roarke: "True enough, which is why we're so often cheap and used.
Let's make this a slow ride, shall we?" The deep purr of her voice brought a sassy grin to his face. The long slant of his eyes grew languid. "You have the reins, cher. You can whip me with them if you like.
I like that people can just look at you and know that you are taken, that you are mine.” He closed his eyes and laughed. “And yes, I know that sentiment is at the top of the Women’s Liberation Movement’s list of things not to say to a modern ...
The nature of poems Is a matter of words and deeds An intimate encounter of voice In the ache of the heart In the labor of breathing A hesitant casting of eyes Away from the mundane to see That delicate and shiny thing In the oddly prosaic rock pile ...
I want you, too, Hayes Cardwell, and that isn't the beer talking." They were so close she could see the shine of his dark eyes in the starlight. Without another word, he swept her up in his arms and carried her into the cabin.
I met Anne in the autumn... Autumn, that wild season when rural men rack orchard trees with sticks and weep with the desire to kiss faraway Demeter’s supple breasts—to set lips to her travel-swollen eyes. They seek goddesses, but I desired only A...
But believe it or not, I really do like to read. I don't think anyone can ever pull the wool over your eyes if you stay prayed up and read. Frederick Douglass said that no man can be a slave if he has knowledge.
Love isn’t governed by logic or understanding. You don’t enter into it like an agreement. It crashes down on you. You wake up one morning and realize the reason you can’t take your eyes off someone is because you’re in love with them.
The activity has pumped out his chest and hardened his abs, and I can't believe I'm even noticing or appreciating it. His smile is naughty, the muscles in his shoulders thick and ripped, undulating with his movement when he adjusts his position for m...
He gives me one of those twinkling stares. His eyes coalesce and fragment color, glinting specks of midnight purple and an electric blue, when the light catches them just right. Straight on they look like indelible pitch, well deep with secrets and p...
The mirror's light sparks in the eyes, And horrified, my lids drawn tight, I step back to that realm of night Where not a single exit lies... (Untitled: "I pass away this life of mine...")
