Wet Quotes - Page 4

• And watch two men washing clothes, one makes dry clothes wet. The other makes wet clothes dry. they seem to be thwarting each other, but their work is a perfect harmony. Every holy person seems to have a different doctrine and practice, but there's really only one work.

  Rumi

  Men, Practice, Two

  Rumi (2015). “Selected Poems”, p.128, Penguin UK

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• Women never look so well as when one comes in wet and dirty from hunting.

  Robert Smith Surtees

  Dirty, Hunting, Looks

  'Mr Sponge's Sporting Tour' (1853) ch. 21

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• You're staring," Lana said. "Yes. I am. I'm a teenage boy. Beautiful girls in wet underwear have a tendency to cause staring in teenage boys.

  Michael Grant

  Beautiful, Girl, Teenage

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• He is a boy sleeping against the mosque wall, ejaculates wet dreaming into a thousand cunts pink and smooth as sea shells.

  William S. Burroughs

  Dream, Wall, Sleep

  William S. Burroughs (1984). “Naked lunch”, Grove Pr

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• Sitting in cold wet britches for an hour was no fun even in a magic kingdom.

  Katherine Paterson

  Fun, Magic Kingdom, Sitting

  Katherine Paterson (1995). “Bridge to Terabithia”, Hippo Bks

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• Are you wet for me, Mary? I think you are. I think you're covered with honey.

  J.R. Ward

  Thinking, Honey, Mary

  J.R. Ward (2006). “Lover Eternal: A Novel of the Black Dagger Brotherhood”, p.140, Penguin

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• I have seen clouds part for the sun. I have seen rainbows. I have seen flowers in the morning, covered in dew, and I have seen sunsets so brilliant with fire they made me want to weep. And I have seen Dan smile at me, his lips still wet from my kiss, and if I had to choose which sight moved me the most I would say it was that one.

  Megan Hart

  Morning, Flower, Sunset

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• Raoden turned to regard the large Dula. "What does it matter? It's not like we have anything pressing to do. It's actually quite pleasant up here—you should just sit back and enjoy it." An ominous crash came from the clouds above them, and Raoden felt a wet drop splat against his head. "Fantastic," Galladon grumbled. "I'm enjoying myself already.

  Brandon Sanderson

  Clouds, Doe, Matter

  Brandon Sanderson (2007). “Elantris: Tenth Anniversary Author's Definitive Edition”, p.84, Macmillan

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• Her fine high forehead sloped gently up to where her hair, bordering it like an armorial shield, burst into lovelocks and waves and curlicues of ash blonde and gold. Her eyes were bright, big, clear, wet and shining, the colour of her cheeks was real, breaking close to the surface from the strong young pump of her heart. Her body hovered delicately on the last edge of childhood -- she was almost eighteen, nearly complete, but the dew was still on her.

  F. Scott Fitzgerald

  Strong, Real, Heart

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• Catherine went still. Her eyes closed against a sudden wet sting. 'Did you accept her proposal?' Leo nuzzled tenderly into the hollow beneath her ear. 'Of course not, pea-goose.

  Lisa Kleypas

  Eye, Ears, Proposal

  Lisa Kleypas (2010). “Married By Morning: Number 4 in series”, p.161, Hachette UK

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• Sam picked up his pack, but before he could put it on, Mogget leaped onto it and slid under the top flap. All that could be seen of him were his green eyes and one white-furred ear. "Remember I advised against this way," he instructed. "Wake me when whatever terrible thing is a about to happen happens, or if it appears I might get wet.

  Garth Nix

  Eye, White, Ears

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• When I'm writing, I am concentrating almost wholly on concrete detail: the color a room is painted, the way a drop of water rolls off a wet leaf after a rain.

  Donna Tartt

  Rain, Writing, Color

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• On wet days I will go into the thickest parts of the forest, where the pine needles are everlastingly dry, and when the sun shines I'll lie on the heath and see how the broom flares against the clouds. I shall be perpetually happy, because there will be no one to worry me.

  Elizabeth von Arnim

  Lying, Clouds, Worry

  Elizabeth Von Arnim (2005). “The Solitary Summer”, p.5, 1st World Publishing

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• Guess the honeymoon is over!" Denise muttered once we are outside. "Next I suppose I'll be sleeping in the wet spot.

  Jeaniene Frost

  Sleep, Next, Honeymoon

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• IT'S THE EXPRESSION ON THEIR LITTLE FACES I LIKE, said the Hogfather. "You mean sort of fear and awe and not knowing whether to laugh or cry or wet their pants?" YES. NOW THAT IS WHAT I CALL BELIEF.

  Terry Pratchett

  Mean, Expression, Knowing

  Terry Pratchett, Jacqueline Simpson (2008). “The Folklore of Discworld”, Doubleday UK

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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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• I stopped. She was bleeding after all. Perfect lines crossed her wrists, not near any crucial veins, but enough to leave wet red tracks across her skin. She hadn;t hit her veins when she did this; death hadn't been her goal.

  Richelle Mead

  Track, Perfect, Goal

  Richelle Mead (2007). “Vampire Academy”, p.158, Penguin

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• The sun did not shine. It was too wet to play. So we sat in the house. All that cold, cold, wet day.

  Dr. Seuss

  Rain, Play, House

  The Cat in the Hat (1957)

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• I had a dog who loved flowers. Briskly she went through the fields, yet paused for the honeysuckle or the rose, her dark head and her wet nose touching the face of every one with its petals of silk with its fragrance rising into the air where the bees, their bodies heavy with pollen hovered - and easily she adored every blossom not in the serious careful way that we choose this blossom or that blossom the way we praise or don't praise - the way we love or don't love - but the way we long to be - that happy in the heaven of earth - that wild, that loving.

  Mary Oliver

  Dog, Flower, Dark

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• And, after boasting this way of my tolerance, I come to the admission that it has a limit. Conduct may be founded on the hard rock or the wet marshes, but after a certain point I don’t care what it’s founded on. When I came back from the East last autumn I felt that I wanted the world to be in uniform and at a sort of moral attention forever; I wanted no more riotous excursions with privileged glimpses into the human heart. Only Gatsby, the man who gives his name to this book, was exempt from my reaction—Gatsby, who represented everything for which I have an unaffected scorn.

  F. Scott Fitzgerald

  Book, Heart, Autumn

  F. Scott Fitzgerald (2016). “F. Scott Fitzgerald: The Complete Novels (Book House)”, p.383, Book House

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• He had a habit of remarking to bartenders that he didn't see any sense in mixing whiskey with water since the whiskey was already wet.

  Joseph Mitchell

  Water, Mixing, Whiskey

  Joseph Mitchell (2012). “Up in the Old Hotel”, p.411, Random House

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• There is much appeal for me in Eastern religion, the little I know of it. And something thorny in me finds American adaptations of Buddhism terribly self-indulgent, silly, gooey in the way the English call "wet."

  Robert Pinsky

  Silly, Buddhism, Self

  Source: www.guernicamag.com

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• A man was attacking me with a wet handkerchief.

  Gail Carriger

  Men, Attacking, Handkerchiefs

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• You must be Pain in the Nick.” – Dev “Huh?” – Nick “Don’t wet your pets. Just a figure of speech. Your mom’s been talking about you all day, boy. You are her favorite topic.” – Dev “Well, I try hard not to be her favorite hemorrhoid.” – Nick

  Sherrilyn Kenyon

  Mom, Pain, Boys

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• This, she thought, isn’t just for today. It’s for everything. For the heartache that still felt like a punch in the gut each time it struck, fresh as new, at unpredictable moments; for the smiling lies and the mental images she couldn’t shake; for the shame of having been so naive. For the way loneliness is worse when you return to it after a reprieve—like the soul’s version of putting on a wet bathing suit, clammy and miserable.

  Laini Taylor

  Loneliness, Lying, Heartache

  Laini Taylor (2011). “Daughter of Smoke and Bone: Daughter of Smoke and Bone Trilogy”, p.20, Hachette UK

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