Angel Kisses Quotes & Sayings

I sighed softly and basked in the barrage of Ren's kisses- drowning kisses, soft kisses, sultry kisses, kisses that lasted a mere second, and kisses that lasted an eternity. It was easy to believe that my warrior-angel had captured me and had flown me up to heaven. A deep rumble echoed in his chest.
I pulled back, laughing. "Are you growling at me?"
He laughed softly, twisted my hair ribbon around his fingers, and pulled gently, loosening my braid. Biting my ear lightly, he whispered a threat, "You have been driving me crazy for three weeks. You're lucky all I'm doing is growling. — Colleen Houck

Our goals are not achieved if all our energy given to us to achieve the goal and self-actualization is directed towards being accepted by our surroundings and to meet their requirements — Sunday Adelaja

Forgiveness enables me to walk away from that pain, the loneliness and suffering. — Sharon E. Rainey

I still don't like my freckles," I said desperately, trying to stop myself from falling completely under his spell. "Angel kisses." Corbin dropped a soft, open-mouthed kiss on my bare shoulder where there was a cluster of freckles. "That is what we used to call them. They're beautiful, just like the rest of you, Addison. — Evangeline Anderson

He told me to run so I ran, like a coward, I should have stayed. Oh my God! -Aurora — Candace Knoebel

A light rain touches my cheek like an angel's butterfly kisses. — Amanda Mosher

I guess what I'm trying to say is that this book doesn't play by the feminist rules we've come to know and accept. But what is feminism if it isn't refusing to play by the rules? — Emily May

Pressing his thumb down on her jaw to part her lips, he kissed her again, angel dust glittering in the air.
"Mmm." She rubbed against him. "Did you make a change to your special blend?" Angel dust, he'd told her, was normally rich and exquisite, but not sexual. Elena had only ever tasted Raphael's blend, and it was always oh-so-sexual-today, it also held a dangerous bite.
Kisses down her throat. "I wouldn't wish my consort to suffer ennui. — Nalini Singh

Tuck, I breathe, and then he kisses me.
I've been kissed before. But nothing like this. He kisses me with surprising tenderness, for all of his gusty talk. Still cupping my face, he gently brushes his lips against mine, slowly, like he's memorizing what I feel like. My eyes close. My head swims with his smell, grass and sunshine and musky cologne. He kisses me again, a litte more firmly, and then he pulls back to look down into my face. — Cynthia Hand

No, they're not starbusts." He continued to touch each mark. "They're angel kisses. It's like angels kissed your hands all over." His eyes rose to meet hers. They were filled with kindness and compassion. Something she had felt little of the past year. (Peter) — Angie Stanton

There is nothing like instances to grow hair on a bald-headed argument. — Mark Twain

Schedules on TV are so tight, and it feels like they get tighter and tighter with every passing year. The idea of asking where your character's come from or where they grew up - you would just get a little bit laughed at. — Jessica Raine

Meg was all natural. She didn't wear a lot of makeup, but her skin was so smooth, dotted with angel kisses, as his mother called freckles. He wanted to trace those freckles with his tongue, kiss each one and see if they covered her whole body or only parts kissed by the sun. — Tamara Hoffa

Asking An Angel To Blow Kisses You Way, Hoping To Lighten & Brighten Your Day. — Tom Baker

We knew each other to our fingertips. No, that's not right. We only knew each other in our fingertips, and that was nothing at all, and for a while that was okay. We could have been a love story, a fairy tale, an indie film about high school and selective insanity featuring a boy of angel parts and a girl made of dreaming. We could have been all the best things: bracelets sliding down arms while shots slid down throats, laughter and crashing music in dark and flashing rooms, kisses that started hesitant but didn't stay that way. — Amy Zhang

Art is seldom the result of true genius; rather, it is the product of hard work and skills learned and tenaciously practiced by regular people. — Sally Mann

How about that one? Is that a constellation?" I asked, pointing upward. We were down in the small valley where the truck was parked. Alex sat leaning against a rock; I was between his legs with my back against his chest, his arms around me as we stared up at the stars.
"Yeah, that's the Seven Sisters, the Pleiades." He bent his head, and I caught my breath as his warm mouth nuzzled at my neck. I hadn't gotten even remotely used yet to how good it felt to be kissed by Alex.
"It's so sexy how you know all of this," I said when I could speak again.
"Yeah?" I heard the grin in his voice. "I know the summer constellations, too. Will that get me bonus kisses?"
"I think it might, actually. — L.A. Weatherly

She was not happy
she never had been. Whence came this insufficiency in life
this instantaneous turning to decay of everything on which she leaned? But if there were somewhere a being strong and beautiful, a valiant nature, full at once of exaltation and refinement, a poet's heart in an angel's form, a lyre with sounding chords ringing out elegiac epithalamia to heaven, why, perchance, should she not find him? Ah! How impossible! Besides, nothing was worth the trouble of seeking it; everything was a lie. Every smile hid a yawn of boredom, every joy a curse, all pleasure satiety, and the sweetest kisses left upon your lips only the unattainable desire for a greater delight. — Gustave Flaubert

Once upon a time," Nora said, as she fluttered a series of kisses over his shoulders that sent every nerve in his body reeling, "a very poor girl from a fucked-up family became a famous writer with a wicked pen and an even more wicked tongue who made seven figures a year. And she went everywhere she wanted to and did everything she wanted to. And nobody ever tried to stop her. And she had her own pet Angel who needed to learn how to talk. So guess what she did?"
"What?" Michael asked. He laughed in surprise as Nora slammed him down onto his back and slid on top of him. She brought her mouth onto his and forced his lips apart.
"She gave him her tongue. — Tiffany Reisz

I see my angel for the first time. Know my purpose, feel my birth. Hear, at first faintly then distinctly,
the sweet strains of our union. Our love heats up the cold universe and gives my tired, desperate hope a reason and season to be revealed.
We, purified by our kisses, are eternally healed. — Simon Templar

I love how he sometimes gets embarrassed by the mushy stuff between us and then his voice gets all gruff and he tickles me or kisses me to shut us both up. Boy, do we ever kiss. We make out like champions. — Cynthia Hand

I always considered myself a minor writer. My province is small, and I try to explore it very, very thoroughly. — Leonard Cohen

Tira begins to sing "I'm No Angel" to him as the screen fades: Baby, I can warm you with this love of mine. I'm No Angel. Aw, let me feel my fingers running through your hair, I can give you kisses ... — Mae West

AUGUST 25 A Special Angel By Maria Gillard Thank you for my childhood, for my laughing heart and soul for all your magic, and for being bold Thank you for being my mom's best friend and loving me no matter what state I was in Thanks for chives and roses, popcorn and TV Thanks for always letting me be me Thanks for rides to swim meets and yummy chocolate cake Thanks for being strong and true when my heart was aching Thank you for the blankets and pillow for my head Thank you for the back hill and the Westside River bed Thank you for the smell of melting butter on the stove Thank you for the nickels you gave me for the store You were a special angel sent to all of us with your disguise of freckles, kisses, hugs and guts We know you're out there somewhere and you'll stay inside our dreams We know wherever you are there's a brilliant golden beam Watch over us, dear angel, as you go on your way and we will laugh and sing and dance again someday Amen — Cathleen O'Connor