Skins Quotes - Page 27

• We had lain together, skin on skin, been as close as two people could, and he was a stranger. He was that someone who you are afraid of as a child, stranger. They never told you that stranger might be someone you knew.

  Deb Caletti

  Children, Two, People

  Deb Caletti (2012). “Stay”, p.162, Simon and Schuster

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• He could feel it immediately when his shoulder snapped - the intense pain of his bones cracking. His skin tightened, as if it could no long hold whatever was lurking inside him. The breath was sucked from his lungs like he was being crushed. His vision began to blur, and he had the sensation he was falling, even though he could feel the rock tearing at his flesh as his body seized on the ground.

  Kami Garcia

  Pain, Fall, Rocks

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• Not Exactly True That skin hate is dead. There will never be color blindness in a culture of fear. But when you live afraid of your neighbor, the monster you should most walk in terror of thrives. It starts as a little thing, small enough to burrow into your pores, take up excruciating residence in the dark recesses of your brain. Its name is paranoia, and it spreads like an oil spill, there in the shadows, chokes your humanity. Threatens your soul.

  Ellen Hopkins

  Hate, Dark, Oil

  Ellen Hopkins (2013). “Perfect”, p.325, Simon and Schuster

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• He wore his fear on his skin for everyone to see.

  Richard Kadrey

  Fear

  Richard Kadrey (2007). “Butcher Bird”, p.69, Simon and Schuster

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• I couldn't see who swam in the darkness, who wore shadows like a second skin.

  Rachel Vincent

  Darkness, Shadow

  Rachel Vincent (2011). “Soul Screamers Volume One: My Soul to Lose\My Soul to Take\My Soul to Save”, p.17, Harlequin

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• I stopped in the full force of a patch of sunlight in the lobby window and let my skin soak up the energy. I hadn’t realized I needed it until it reached inside and stilled me in a way that only David’s touch had been able to achieve. “Why does that feel so good?” I asked. “And don’t tell me it’s because we’ve been shut in a room for days.” “Like calls to like,” he said. “You’re made of fire now.” “So I’m going to feel like this every time I pass an open flame? Great. Firegasm.

  Rachel Caine

  Fire, Flames, Rooms

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• She'd assumed she'd be married and have kids by this age, that she would be grooming her own daughter for this, as her friends were doing. She wanted it so much she would dream about it sometimes, and then she would wake up with the skin at her wrists and neck red from the scratchy lace of the wedding gown she'd dreamed of wearing. But she'd never felt anything for the men she'd dated, nothing beyond her own desperation. And her desire to marry wasn't strong enough, would never be strong enough, to allow her to marry a man she didn't love.

  Sarah Addison Allen

  Daughter, Dream, Strong

  Sarah Addison Allen (2011). “The Peach Keeper: A Novel”, p.21, Bantam

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• Tall, with skin the color of rich coffee, and dressed all in black, Jim looked like he was carved from a block of solid muscle. Logic said that at some point he must've been a baby and then a child, but looking at him one was almost convinced that some deity touched the ground with its scepter and proclaimed, "There shall be a badass," and Jim sprung into existence, fully formed, complete with clothes, and ready for action.

  Ilona Andrews

  Baby, Children, Badass

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• And indeed it was, the arrow still protruding from its wet, grayish skin, humping its body along with incredible speed. A flick of its tail caught the edge of a statue, sending it flying into the dry ornamental pool, where it shattered into dust. “By the Angel, it just crushed Sophocles,” noted Will. “Has no one respect for the classics these days?

  Cassandra Clare

  Angel, Dust, Arrows

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• Everything that belonged to her husband made her weep again: his tasseled slippers, his pajamas under the pillow, the space of his absence in the dressing table mirror, his own odor on her skin. A vague thought made her shudder: "The people one loves should take all their things with them when they die.

  Gabriel Garcia Marquez

  Husband, Mirrors, Space

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• He was the fantasy of every girl in the country. He was so far out of realm, her world, that she should have stopped thinking about him the second the door had closed. Should stop thinking about him immediately. Should never think about him again, except maybe as a client - and her prince. And yet, the memory of his fingers against her skin refused to fade.

  Marissa Meyer

  Girl, Country, Memories

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• She had blue skin, And so did he. He kept it hid And so did she. They searched for blue Their whole life through, Then passed right by- And never knew.

  Shel Silverstein

  Blue, Poetry, Looking For Love

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• My life is too tight, he wanted to say. My skin is too tight. The walls are too tight.

  Hugh Howey

  Wall, Life Is, Wanted

  Hugh Howey (2013). “Wool”, p.22, Simon and Schuster

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• What are your thoughts?' 'My thoughts?' I replied, before I even realized what I was saying. 'My thoughts created my world.' Mac sat up in his seat. He scrunched his curls with his hands, perplexed. 'Who said that?' I told him the truth. 'Oh, just someone I used to know,' I said, stroking the naked skin on my middle finger.

  Megan McCafferty

  Hands, Curls, Naked

  Megan McCafferty (2006). “Charmed Thirds: A Jessica Darling Novel”, p.319, Broadway Books

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• If your skin is crawling, pay attention. If something doesn’t feel right, pay attention. If the hairs on the back of your neck prickle, if your gut clenches up, if a wave of wrongness washes over you, if your heart starts beating faster, pay, pay, pay attention. Do not second-guess yourself or rationalize anything that impedes your safety. Our instincts are the animal inside of our humanness, warning us of danger.

  Inga Muscio

  Heart, Animal, Hair

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• No real lady would let a dress that might have been worn by a stranger touch her skin.

  Cassandra Clare

  Real, Dresses, Might

  Cassandra Clare (2013). “The Infernal Devices: Clockwork Angel; Clockwork Prince; Clockwork Princess”, p.118, Simon and Schuster

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• Above us, the wind blew and the branching shadows rearranged themselves on our skin. Gus squeezed my hand. "It is a good life, Hazel Grace.

  John Green

  Good Life, Hands, Wind

  John Green (2012). “The Fault in Our Stars”, p.153, Penguin UK

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• I wonder if this is how people always get close: They heal each other's wounds; they repair the broken skin.

  Lauren Oliver

  People, Broken, Wonder

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• I have terrible nightmares, you know. Every night when I come home from a long day’s dying, I take off my skin and lay it nicely on my armoire. I take off my bones and hang them up on the hatstand. I set my scythe to washing on the old stove. I eat a nice supper of mouse-and-myrrh soup. Some nights I drink off a nice red wine. White does not agree with me. I lay myself down on a bed of lilies and still, I cannot sleep.

  Catherynne M. Valente

  Nice, Home, Wine

  Catherynne M. Valente (2014). “The Fairyland Series”, p.175, Feiwel & Friends

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• Even if you’ve taken off every stitch of clothing, you still have your secrets, your history, your true name. It’s hard to be really naked. You have to work hard at it. Just getting into a bath isn’t being naked, not really. It’s just showing skin.

  Catherynne M. Valente

  Life, Taken, Hard Work

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• The problem was that I'd never worn a bikini before. My dad doesn't allow them. He thinks even one-pieces show too much skin and constantly suggests that Jane and I wear wet suits.

  Janette Rallison

  Dad, Thinking, Pieces

  Janette Rallison (2010). “My Fair Godmother”, p.32, Bloomsbury Publishing USA

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• His mouth is on me, his hands, I can't wait and he's moving, already, love, it's been so long, I'm alive in my skin, again, arms around him, falling and water softly everywhere, never-ending.

  Margaret Atwood

  Moving, Fall, Hands

  Margaret Atwood (1986). “The Handmaid's Tale”, p.261, Houghton Mifflin Harcourt

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• Unhappiness is a dangerous thing, like carbon monoxide. You don't smell it, you don't taste it, it's formless and colourless, but it poisons slowly. It seeps into every pore of your skin until one day your heart just stops beating.

  Bella Pollen

  Heart, Smell, Unhappy

  Bella Pollen (2011). “Midnight Cactus”, p.17, Pan Macmillan

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• I could not help staring back, for they made quite a contrast: Kate's pale skin and elegant purple suit, Nadira's dusky skin and exotic fiery sari. "Do we clash?" Nadira said dryly. "We certainly do," said Kate. "Would you like me to move?" "Don't trouble yourself.

  Kenneth Oppel

  Moving, Pale Skin, Purple

  Kenneth Oppel (2005). “Skybreaker”, HarperCollins

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• I liked that he was a tenured professor in the Department of Slightly Crooked Smiles with a dual appointments in the Department of Having a Voice that Made My Skin Feel More Like Skin.

  John Green

  Voice, Made, Professors

  John Green (2012). “The Fault in Our Stars”, p.26, Penguin

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