Libba Bray Quotes About Kissing

Quotes about: Kissing

• But...you could have whatever you wished." "Exactly," he says, nuzzling my neck. "But," I say, "you could turn stones to rubies or ride in a fine gentleman's carriage." Kartik puts his hands on either side of my face. "To each his own magic," he says and kisses me again.

  Libba Bray

  Kissing, Hands, Gentleman

  Libba Bray (2010). “The Sweet Far Thing”, p.404, Simon and Schuster

• You can’t blame a fella for kissing the prettiest girl in New York, can you, sister?” Sam’s grin was anything but apologetic. Evie brought up her knee quickly and decisively, and he dropped to the floor like a grain sack. “You can’t blame a girl for her quick reflexes now, can you, pal?

  Libba Bray

  Girl, New York, Kissing

• Hey,” the cabbie yelled. “How’s about a tip?” “You bet-ski,” Evie said, heading toward the old Victorian mansion, her long silk scarf trailing behind her. “Don’t kiss strange men in Penn Station.

  Libba Bray

  Kissing, Men, Long

• Sometimes I see things, I think. Out of the corner of my eye, taunting me, and then it’s gone. And dreams. Such horrible dreams. What if something terrible happened to me? What if I am damaged?" The rain is a cool kiss on my sleeve as I link my arm with hers. "We’re all damaged somehow.

  Libba Bray

  Dream, Rain, Eye

  Libba Bray (2015). “The Gemma Doyle Trilogy”, p.335, Delacorte Press

• The sun has blessed you," Sarita used to say. "Look how he has left his kisses on your face for all to see and be jealous." "The sun loves you more," I said, rubbing my hands over her dry arms, the color of an aged wine gourd, and she laughed. But this is not India and we are not prized for our freckles here. The sun is not allowed to show his love.

  Libba Bray

  Blessed, Love You, Jealous

• Cash or check?” he said cheekily. Even the dullest Ohio girls knew that bit of lingo: Kiss now or kiss later? “Bank’s closed, pal.

  Libba Bray

  Girl, Kissing, Ohio

• Perhaps this is how girls fall -- not in some crime of enchantment at the hands of a wicked ne'er-do-well, a grand before and after in which they are innocent victims who have no say in the matter. Perhaps they simply are kissed and want to kiss back. Perhaps they even kiss first. And why should they not?

  Libba Bray

  Girl, Fall, Kissing

  Libba Bray (2007). “The Sweet Far Thing”, p.615, Delacorte Books for Young Readers

• And when it comes, her kiss is like something not so much felt as found.

  Libba Bray

  Kissing, Found, Like Something

  Libba Bray (2009). “Going Bovine”, p.411, Delacorte Books for Young Readers

• It was a kiss small in its ministrations but epic in its feeling.

  Libba Bray

  Kissing, Epic, Feelings

• You know what else is hot?" said a nameless blonde as she put her arm around the one black girl. "What?" "Bisexuals." "Totally. Well, not like real bisexuals who are just sort of your everyday people, but, like, the kind of bisexuals you see in magazines wearing nothing but body paint and kissing both boys and girls to promote a new single." "Totally, totally hot.

  Libba Bray

  Girl, Real, Kissing

  Libba Bray (2011). “Beauty Queens”, p.210, Scholastic Inc.

• He smiles sadly. "Now I know my destiny." "What is it?" "This." He draws me in to him in a kiss. His lips are warm. He pulls me tighter in his embrace. The roots sigh and release their hold on my waist and the wound in my side is healed. "Kartik," I cry, kissing his cheeks. "It's let me go." "That's good," he says. He makes a small cry. His back arches, and every muscle in his body tightens.

  Libba Bray

  Kissing, Destiny, Roots

  Libba Bray (2009). “The Sweet Far Thing”, p.498, Simon and Schuster

• There's no time to be modest. Reason will not work here. Without warning, I kiss Kartik. His lips, pressed firmly against mine, are a surprise. They are warm, light as breath, firm as the give of a peach against my mouth. A scent like scorched cinnamon hangs in the air, but I'm not falling into any vision. It's his smell in me. A smell that makes my stomach drop through my feet. A smell that pushes all thought out of my head and replaces it with an overpowering hunger for more.

  Libba Bray

  Fall, Kissing, Light

  Libba Bray (2010). “A Great and Terrible Beauty”, p.133, Simon and Schuster

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