Foreheads Quotes - Page 10

• Do you really think we'll ever--" "I do," he said with certainty, not letting me finish. He leaned over and kissed my forehead. "I know it, Sassenach, and so do you. You were meant to be a mother, and I surely dinna intend to let anyone else father your children.

  Diana Gabaldon

  Mother, Children, Father

  Diana Gabaldon (2015). “The Outlander Series 8-Book Bundle: Outlander, Dragonfly in Amber, Voyager, Drums of Autumn, The Fiery Cross, A Breath of Snow and Ashes, An Echo in the Bone, Written in My Own Heart's Blood”, p.1272, Dell

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• Sorry!' Dave's friend yelled when he saw me. 'That was my-' But i wasn't listening as,instead,i took every bit of the anger and stress of the last few minutes and days put it behind the ball, throwing it overhead at the basket as hard as i could. It went flying, hitting the backboard and banging through the netless hoop at full speed before shooting back out and nailing Dave Wade squarely on the forehead. And just like that, he was down.

  Sarah Dessen

  Inspirational, Basketball, Sorry

  Sarah Dessen (2011). “What Happened to Goodbye”, p.67, Penguin

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• Four flips the gun in this hand, presses the barrel to Peter's forehead, and clicks a bullet into place. Peter freezes with his lips parted, the yawn dead in his mouth. "Wake. Up," Four snaps. "You are holding a loaded gun, you idiot. Act like it.

  Veronica Roth

  Gun, Hands, Lips

  Veronica Roth (2014). “Divergent Series Ultimate Four-Book Collection: Divergent; Insurgent; Allegiant; Four”, p.44, Harper Collins

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• I am alone, I am all alone, I am completely alone. Grasping this reality, I let go of my bag, drop to my knees and press my forehead against the floor. There, I offer up to the universe a fervent prayer of thanks. First in English. Then in Italian. And then - just to get the point across - in Sanskrit.

  Elizabeth Gilbert

  Letting Go, Prayer, Italian

  Elizabeth Gilbert (2009). “Eat Pray Love: One Woman's Search for Everything”, p.9, Bloomsbury Publishing

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• We stood up and bade each other farewell, but love and despair stood between us like two ghosts, one stretching his wings with his fingers over our throats, one weeping and the other laughing hideously. As I took Selma's hand and put it to my lips, she came close to me and placed a kiss on my forehead, then dropped on the wooden bench. She shut her eyes and whispered softly, "Oh, Lord God, have mercy on me and mend my broken wings!

  Khalil Gibran

  Farewell, Eye, Kissing

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• Skye kissed her forehead. "You saved my life." Katsa smiled. "You Lienid are very outward in your affection." "I'm going to name my firstborn child after you." Katsa laughed at that. "For the child's sake, wait for a girl. Or even better, wait until all your children are older and give my name to whichever is the most troublesome and obstinate." Skye burst into laughter and hugged her, and Katsa returned his embrace. And realized that quite without her intending it, her guarded heart had made another friend.

  Kristin Cashore

  Girl, Laughter, Children

  Kristin Cashore (2009). “Graceling”, p.433, Houghton Mifflin Harcourt

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• Endless moons, an opaque universe, thunder, tornadoes, the quaking earth. Rare moments of peace; forehead up against my knees, arms around my head, I though, I listened, I longed not to exist. but life was there, a transparent pearl, a star revolving slowly on its own axis.

  Shan Sa

  Stars, Moon, Axes

  Shan Sa (2009). “Empress: A Novel”, p.8, Harper Collins

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• I do all of these things," Daniel said, leaning into her so that their foreheads touched, "because you're my love, Lucinda. For me, you're all there is.

  Lauren Kate

  Said, Touched

  Lauren Kate (2013). “The Fallen Series: 4-Book Collection”, p.258, Delacorte Press

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• [Kenny] leaned back against the counter and studied the other man. “So Dex, how’s come you’re still alive to tell the tale?” Dexter wiped up a small coffee spill, the sat on the stool next to Torie. “All I’m prepared to say is that your sister and I slept together, and, since I compromised her, I intend to marry her.” Torie dropped her forehead and banged it three times against the countertop. “You are such a geek.” “Doesn’t sound like she’s too enthusiastic about it,” Kenny said.

  Susan Elizabeth Phillips

  Coffee, Men, Together

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• Sorry,” he said. “Let me drop the belt-" “No.” She held on when he would have pulled away. “Don’t. I like it.” Again, he lifted her face, and he smiled. “The tool belt turns you on.” “No.” She closed her eyes and thunked her forehead to his chest. “Little bit.

  Jill Shalvis

  Sorry, Eye, Tools

  FaceBook post by Jill Shalvis from Jul 09, 2012

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• A southwest blow on ye and blister you all o'er!' 'The red plague rid you!' 'Toads, beetles, bats, light on you!' 'As wicked dew as e'er my mother brushed with raven's feather from unwholesome fen drop on you.' 'Strange stuff' 'Thou jesting monkey thou' 'Apes with foreheads villainous low' 'Pied ninny' 'Blind mole...' -The Caliban Curses

  Gary D. Schmidt

  Mother, Blow, Light

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• Don’t worry,” Marya whispered, kissing his forehead. “My old bones will follow yours soon enough.

  Catherynne M. Valente

  Kissing, Soon Enough, Worry

  Catherynne M. Valente (2011). “Deathless”, p.327, Macmillan

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• She sat leaning back in her chair, looking ahead, knowing that he was as aware of her as she was of him. She found pleasure in the special self-consciousness it gave her. When she crossed her legs, when she leaned on her arm against the window sill, when she brushed her hair off her forehead - every movement of her body was underscored by a feeling the unadmitted words for which were: Is he seeing it?

  Ayn Rand

  Romantic, Knowing, Hair

  Ayn Rand (2016). “Atlas Shrugged”, p.186, Hamilton Books

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• But doctors talk about cells as if they had such unlimited importance all by themselves. As if they didn't really belong to the person that has them." Teddy brushed back his hair from his forehead with one hand. "I grew my own body," he said. "Nobody else did it for me. So if I grew it, I must have known how to grow it. Unconsciously, at least. I may have lost the conscious knowledge of how to grow it sometime in the last few hundred thousand years, but the knowledge is still there, because—obviously—I've used it.

  J. D. Salinger

  Doctors, Hair, Cells

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• I rolled back onto the lawn and pressed my forehead to the ground again and made the noise that Father calls groaning. I make this noise when there is too much information coming into my head from the outside world. It is like when you are upset and you hold the radio against your ear and you tune it halfway between two stations so that all you get is white noise and then you turn the volume right up so that this is all can hear and then you know you are safe because you cannot hear anything else

  Mark Haddon

  Father, Two, White

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• I lost a world the other day. Has anybody found? You'll know it by the rows of stars around it's forehead bound. A rich man might not notice it; yet to my frugal eye of more esteem than ducats. Oh! Find it, sir, for me!

  Emily Dickinson

  Stars, Eye, Men

  Emily Dickinson (2016). “The Collected Poems of Emily Dickinson”, p.81, First Avenue Editions

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• Boys are just boys after all, but sometimes girls really seem to be the turn of a pale wrist, or the sudden jut of a hip, or a clutch of very dark hair falling across a freckled forehead. I'm not saying that's what they really are. I'm just saying sometimes it seems that way, and that those details (a thigh mole, a full face flush, a scar the precise shape and size of a cashew nut) are so many hooks waiting to land you.

  Zadie Smith

  Girl, Fall, Dark

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• On the other couch a women sits with a young boy looking through a picture book about Babar the Elephant. When I find a magazine and I lean back to start reading it, I can see the women watching me out of the corner of her eye. She moves closer to the child and she leans over and kisses his forehead. I know why she does it and i don't blame her.

  James Frey

  Children, Moving, Book

  James Frey (2004). “A Million Little Pieces”, p.57, Anchor

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• Then I dropped my forehead against his and sat there for a long time, as if I could telegraph a message through our two skulls, from my brain to his. I wanted to make him understand some things. You know all that stuff we’ve always said about you?” I whispered. “What a total pain you are? Don’t believe it. Don’t believe it for a minute, Marley.” He needed to know that, and something more, too. There was something I had never told him, that no one ever had. I wanted him to hear it before he went. Marley,” I said. “You are a great dog.

  John Grogan

  Dog, Pain, Believe

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• Seated by her side in the narrow cabin, pressing cold compresses to her forehead and holding her while she vomited, he felt profoundly happy.

  Isabel Allende

  Cabins, Sides, Cold

  Isabel Allende (2015). “The House of the Spirits: A Novel”, p.107, Simon and Schuster

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• He put his hands on her shoulders and kissed her full on the mouth. His skin was wet with rain. When she didn't pull away, he took her face between his hands and kissed her again, on her forehead, on her nose, on her mouth once more. "You will come, won't you? Promisse!" he whispered.

  Cornelia Funke

  Rain, Hands, Skins

  Cornelia Funke (2011). “Inkspell”, p.324, Scholastic Inc.

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• McKenna will always be a part of me, no matter where he goes. They say that people who've lost a limb sometimes feel as if they still have it. How many times I've felt that McKenna was still here, and the empty space beside me was alive with his presence." She closed her eyes and leaned forward until her forehead and the tip of her nose touched the cool glass. "I love him beyond reason," she whispered. "He's a stranger to me now, and yet he is still so familiar. I can't imagine a sweeter agony, having him so close.

  Lisa Kleypas

  Eye, I Love Him, Agony

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• I can feel Peeta press his forehead into my temple and he asks, 'So now that you've got me, what are you going to do with me?' I turn into him. 'Put you somewhere you can't get hurt.

  Suzanne Collins

  Love, Hurt, Romance

  Suzanne Collins (2008). “The Hunger Games”, p.368, Scholastic Inc.

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• Am I crazy?" she asked. "I feel like I am sometimes." "Maybe," he said, rubbing her forehead. "But don't worry about it. You need to be a little bit crazy. Crazy is the price you pay for having an imagination. It's your superpower. Tapping into the dream. It's a good thing not a bad thing.

  Ruth Ozeki

  Dream, Crazy, Imagination

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• He put his hand on his forehead and scoured the French department of his memory for a word. He knew it was in there. He'd put it in almost fifty years before and hadn't had cause to remove it. But for the life of him he couldn't find it.

  Colin Cotterill

  Memories, Hands, Years

  Colin Cotterill (2014). “The Coroner's Lunch”, p.79, Open Road Media

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