Mouths Quotes - Page 37

• I wonder about death, I who may never know it. It looks much like ecstacy, the way they open their mouths as they drown, the way their fingers dig into your skin. Their eyes are wide and startled and they trash in your hands as though with an excess of passion.

  Holly Black

  Passion, Eye, Hands

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• Tyler and me at the edge of the roof, the gun in my mouth, I'm wondering how clean this gun is.

  Chuck Palahniuk

  Gun, Wonder, Clean

  Read Mercer Schuchardt, Chuck Palahniuk (2008). “You do not talk about Fight Club: I am Jack's completely unauthorized essay collection”, Benbella Books

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• She serves me a piece of it a few minutes out of the oven. A little steam rises from the slits on top. Sugar and spice - cinnamon - burned into the crust. But she's wearing these dark glasses in the kitchen at ten o'clock in the morning - everything nice - as she watches me break off a piece, bring it to my mouth, and blow on it. My daughter's kitchen, in winter. I fork the pie in and tell myself to stay out of it. She says she loves him. No way could it be worse.

  Raymond Carver

  Daughter, Morning, Nice

  Raymond Carver (2015). “All of Us: The Collected Poems”, p.148, Vintage

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• We see the world, not as it is, but as we are -- or, as we are conditioned to see it. When we open our mouths to describe what we see, we in effect describe ourselves, our perceptions, our paradigms.

  Stephen Covey

  Perspective, Perception, World

  Stephen R. Covey (2016). “The 7 Habits of Highly Effective People: Powerful Lessons in Personal Change Interactive Edition”, p.25, Mango Media Inc.

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• You could sometimes see her twelfth year in her cheeks, or her ninth sparkling from her eyes; and even her fifth would flit over the curves of her mouth now and then.

  Thomas Hardy

  Eye, Curves, Years

  Thomas Hardy (2016). “Tess of the D'Urbervilles (Diversion Classics)”, p.14, Diversion Books

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• Love, I've never been anyone's mother; I don't know how to talk to young or old. But don't stop smiling just because I flap my mouth and say something that's not dressed around the edges like a lace tablecloth. Thicken up and we'll get along fine.

  Catherynne M. Valente

  Mother, Lace, Young

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• Oh, Elizabeth," he murmured, leaning down to press a gentle kiss on her mouth, "I love you so much. You must believe me." "I believe you," she said softly, "because in your eyes, I see what I feel in my heart.

  Julia Quinn

  Believe, Love You, Heart

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• You mustn't stand about. Come home with me to dinner.’ ‘No.’ More shakes his head. ‘I would rather be blown around on the river and go home hungry. If I could trust you only to put food in my mouth – but you will put words into it.

  Hilary Mantel

  Home, Rivers, Dinner

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• Chestnuts in stuffing tastes like someone chewed up a tree branch and then French-kissed it into your mouth.

  Daniel Handler

  Tree, Branches, Taste

  Daniel Handler (2012). “Why We Broke Up”, p.204, Egmont UK

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• Because my mouth Is wide with laughter And my throat Is deep with song, You do not think I suffer after I have held my pain So long? Because my mouth Is wide with laughter You do not hear My inner cry? Because my feet Are gay with dancing You do not know I die?

  Langston Hughes

  Song, Pain, Laughter

  Langston Hughes, Dolan Hubbard (2003). “The Collected Works of Langston Hughes: Works for children and young adults: poetry, fiction, and other writing”, p.63, University of Missouri Press

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• Hello, ladies," Joe Solomon said, but not before I snatched the piece of paper and crammed it in my mouth, which ordinarily would have been really great spy maneuvering except that Josh didn't use Evapopaper. "How's the lasagna?" Mr. Solomon asked, and I started to say something before I remembered that my mouth was...well...otherwise engaged.

  Ally Carter

  Spy, Use, Pieces

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• My mouth is a fire escape. The words coming out don’t care that they are naked. There is something burning in there.

  Andrea Gibson

  Fire, Naked, Burning

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• Where there is a woman there is magic. If there is a moon falling from her mouth, she is a woman who knows her magic, who can share or not share her powers. A woman with a moon falling from her mouth, roses between her legs and tiaras of Spanish moss, this woman is a consort of the spirits.

  Ntozake Shange

  Inspiring, Fall, Moon

  Ntozake Shange (2010). “Sassafrass, Cypress & Indigo: A Novel”, p.9, Macmillan

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• I want you to take a sleeve of Thin Mints and line them up on the edge of the kitchen counter and when I'm hungry I can just bend over and sweep a cookie into my mouth like I'm scoring a goal in hockey.

  Jack Gantos

  Hockey, Goal, Kitchen

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• I’m Hana,” Hana says. “And this is Lena.” She jabs me with an elbow. I know I must look like a fish, standing there with my mouth gaping open, but I’m too outraged to speak. He’s lying. I know he’s the one I saw yesterday, would bet my life on it. “Alex. Nice to meet you.” Alex keeps his eyes on me as he and Hana shake hands. Then he extends a hand to me. “Lena,” he says thoughtfully. “I’ve never heard that name before.

  Lauren Oliver

  Nice, Lying, Eye

  Lauren Oliver (2014). “Delirium: The Complete Collection: Delirium, Hana, Pandemonium, Annabel, Raven, Requiem”, p.34, Harper Collins

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• Startled, he loosed his grasp and she pulled free. He clutched her arm, but she spun around and pressed her mouth to his. His lips were rough, chapped. She felt the sting of fangs against her bottom lip. He made a sharp sound in the back of his throat and closed his eyes. Mouth opening under hers. The smell of him- of cold, damp stone- made her head swim. One kiss slid into another and it was perfect, was exactly right, was real.

  Holly Black

  Real, Eye, Kissing

  Holly Black (2006). “Valiant: A Modern Tale of Faerie”, p.230, Simon and Schuster

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• And the pain is too much it's too much it's too much and my hands are on my head and I'm rearing back and my mouth is open in a never-ending wordless wail of all the blackness that's inside me. And i fall back into it.

  Patrick Ness

  Pain, Fall, Hands

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• It was at first almost as if he hadn't wanted to kiss her. His mouth was hard on hers, unyielding; then he put both arms around her and pulled her against him. His lips softened. She could feel the rapid beat of his heart, taste the sweetness of apples still on his mouth. She wound her hands into his hair, as she'd wanted to do since the first time she'd seen him. His hair curled around her fingers, silky and fine. Her heart was hammering, and there was a rushing sound in her ears, like beating wings

  Cassandra Clare

  Heart, Kissing, Hair

  Cassandra Clare (2012). “Cassandra Clare: The Mortal Instruments Series (5 books): City of Bones; City of Ashes; City of Glass; City of Fallen Angels, City of Lost Souls”, p.303, Simon and Schuster

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• Mike drank straight from the carton, wiped his mouth, and stared at her. "You've been acting freaky. Are you high? Can I have some if you are?

  Sara Shepard

  Acting, Freaky, Drank

  Sara Shepard (2014). “Pretty Little Liars: The First Half 8-Book Collection: Pretty Little Liars, Flawless, Perfect, Unbelievable, Wicked, Killer, Heartless, Wanted”, p.78, Harper Collins

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• I looked at Bria. “How do you put up with him?” Bria started to open her mouth, but Finn piped up instead. “She puts up with me because I happen to be rich, handsome, charming, a witty conversationalist, and exceptionally talented in bed,” he smirked. “Flexible too.” I groaned. “I did not need to hear those last two.

  Jennifer Estep

  Witty, Two, Bed

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• No. This has to do with drugs." My jaw fell open and I almost lost my toothbrush. "You're on drugs?" She pressed her mouth together. "No. You are." "I'm on drugs?" I asked, stunned. I had no idea.

  Darynda Jones

  Ideas, Drug, Together

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• Those dripping crumpets, I can see them now. Tiny crisp wedges of toast, and piping-hot, flaky scones. Sandwiches of unknown nature, mysteriously flavoured and quite delectable, and that very special gingerbread. Angel cake, that melted in the mouth, and his rather stodgier companion, bursting with peel and raisins. There was enough food there to keep a starving family for a week.

  Daphne du Maurier

  Angel, Cake, Special

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• Wild honey smells of freedom The dust - of sunlight The mouth of a young girl, like a violet But gold - smells of nothing.

  Anna Akhmatova

  Girl, Dust, Smell

  Anna Andreevna Akhmatova (1989). “Poem without a hero and selected poems”, Field Translations Series

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• When she looked at herself in her wedding photographs, Ammu felt the woman that looked back at her was someone else. A foolish jewelled bride. Her silk sunset-coloured sari shot with gold. Rings on every finger. White dots of sandalwood paste over her arched eye-brows. Looking at herself like this, Ammu's soft mouth would twist into a small, bitter smile at the memory - not of the wedding itself so much as the fact that she had permitted herself to be so painstakingly decorated before being led to the gallows. It seemed so absurd. So futile. Like polishing firewood.

  Arundhati Roy

  Memories, Sunset, Eye

  Arundhati Roy (2002). “The God of Small Things”, p.43, Penguin Books India

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• She learned her hands in a fairy-tale, And her mouth on a valentine.

  Edna St. Vincent Millay

  Valentine, Hands, Fairy Tale

  Edna St Vincent, Edna St. Vincent Millay (2013). “The Edna St. Vincent Millay Collection”, p.141, eBookIt.com

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