Wet Quotes - Page 29

• He couldn’t compare a woman to a torrentially beautiful monsoon, and then look surprised that he’d gotten wet.

  Tessa Dare

  Beautiful, Looks, Monsoons

  16 Copy quote

• “I'm not going anywhere.” Gently, he stroked her back, cradled her head. Was there anything more astounding or more frightening to a man, he wondered, than a strong woman in tears? “I've been right here all along. I love you, Eve, almost more than I can stand.” “I need you. I can't help it. I don't want to.” “I know. He eased back, tucking a hand under her chin to lift her face to his. “We’re going to have to deal with it.” He kissed one wet cheek, then the other. “I really can’t do without you.“

  Nora Roberts

  Strong Women, Love You, Hands

  "Glory in Death". Book by Nora Roberts, December 1995.

  6 Copy quote

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• I don't consider writing a quiet, closet act.
  I consider it a real physical act.
  When I'm home writing on the typewriter, I go crazy.
  I move like a monkey.
  I've wet myself, I've come in my pants writing.

  Patti Smith

  Crazy, Real, Moving

  4 Copy quote

• The cat would eat fish but would not get her feet wet.

  Geoffrey Chaucer

  Wise, Wisdom, Cat

  9 Copy quote

• When I was a boy, I choked on a piece of candy outside the kitchen window for a few minutes while watching my parents making dinner. I thought I was going to die, but I didn't want to scare them. Our existence was so separate, a dying and a doing well, an outside and an inside. Trey Moody's poems hover in that cold, wet, refrigerator-lit place between the dying and the doing well, the outside and the inside. His poems are the thoughts of the person you love who is always standing behind you, slowly and silently suffocating. But they're not afraid to say hello, and please, and I'm scared.

  Zachary Schomburg

  Boys, Parent, Kitchen

  7 Copy quote

• Fay had a spot of blood on the left side of her mouth and I took a wet cloth and wiped it off. Women were meant to suffer; no wonder they asked for constant declarations of love.

  Charles Bukowski

  Blood, Suffering, Mouths

  Charles Bukowski (2011). “Post Office”, p.129, Random House

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• Tie your heart at night to mine, love, and both will defeat the darkness like twin drums beating in the forest against the heavy wall of wet leaves. Night crossing: black coal of dream that cuts the thread of earthly orbs with the punctuality of a headlong train that pulls cold stone and shadow endlessly. Love, because of it, tie me to a purer movement, to the grip on life that beats in your breast, with the wings of a submerged swan, So that our dream might reply to the sky's questioning stars with one key, one door closed to shadow.

  Pablo Neruda

  Dream, Stars, Wall

  Pablo Neruda, “Tie Your Heart At Night To Mine, Love,”

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