Angled Quotes & Sayings

[What a great way to describe how a city takes its unique "shape"...beautiful turn-of-phrase by Kieran Shields(!)]:

"It was a city of slopes, curves, and dips carved by glaciers and now criss-crossed by a network of angled streets and blocks, unfettered by any sense of regularity and uniformity. Portland's maze of cobbled roads was the result of two and a half centuries of fisherman and merchants driven by immediate necessity and that economy of steps that occurs naturally in a place where winters often lasted five months out of the year. — Kieran Shields

How could I not?" My hand fluttered in her direction, wishing I could make every fucking inch of space separating us disappear. "I lied to you, Aly. That night ... " I swallowed hard as my attention shot to the place where I'd left her behind before I angled it back on her. "I left knowing I could never forget you, but praying somehow you could forget me. And I know I shouldn't be here. I know I should give you a chance to forget, but, Aly ... I miss you. — A.L. Jackson

He moved like a bird; twitching and bunching his shoulders. His head angled back and forth to watch me, and as he did, his biceps tightened. His dark hair was chin length and concealed most of his face. His mouth was wide in a disturbing smile that displayed his perfectly white teeth; the upper and lower canines sharpened to fine points. — J.D. Stroube

The ceiling angled down right over me and I raised my arm and touched it with my fingertips. All children, I thought, should be permitted to sleep in such a room; the child loves nooks and odd angles and is frightened into nightmare by equidistance, by parallel planes which conceal nothing. — Don DeLillo

Ha! Don't you know that writers are control freaks? We make our characters dance to our own weird tunes. That's half the fun."

She angled his head ever so slowly to the right. "What's the other half?" Just as the position became uncomfortable, she reversed the motion.

"Rewriting," he said. "You know how you think of a brilliant response to an insult six hours later when it's utterly useless? A writer has a time machine. I can go back to the moment the insult was hurled and parry it with my slow but rapier-sharp wit."

"Relax. I've got you," she said, rotating his head gently to the right. "I guess us nonwriters think you just sit down at your computer and the book comes out the way we read it."

"We foster that myth. It makes us seem more like creative geniuses and less like mere craftsmen. — Nancy Herkness

Sharp-angled blades of sunlight sliced open the heavy green canopy above, bleeding lemon-yellow splashes of warmth and light into the cool shade of my private oasis. Here, — Beem Weeks

I can't believe you'd rather hold handle bars than a girl."
He angled his head thoughtfully."I hadn't considered that."
"Maybe you should."
He hopped over,gingerly swinging his bad leg over to the other side and settled down behind me on the seat.
"You got rules on how I can hold you?"
"Nothing distracting while I'm driving," I tossed over my shoulder, meeting his gaze."We don't need another accident."
"And when you're not driving?"
"The Kate-have-a-good-time fund is getting low.Maybe you should think about making a deposit. — Rachel Hawthorne

Lia whispered, "I don't snore."
And the thief angled his gaze warm to hers, offering his lazy smile. "Aye, love, but if you did, I'd still treasure every one. — Shana Abe

A burning heat warmed my blood.
It was a slow kiss at first - all I meant it to be, but then Echo touched me. Her hands on my face, in my hair. And then she angled her body to mine. Warmth, enticing pressure on all the right parts, and Echo's lips on mine - fireworks.
She became my world. — Katie McGarry

We walked to his Harley, and when I wrapped my arms around him, he rested his hand on mine.
"I'm glad you were there tonight, Pidge. I've never had so much fun at a fight in my life."
I perched my chin on his shoulder and smiled. "That was because you were trying to win our bet."
He angled his neck to face me. "Damn right I was." There was no amusement in his eyes, he was serious, and he wanted me to see it.
My eyebrows shot up. "Is that why you were in such a bad mood today? Because you knew they'd fixed the boilers, and I would be leaving tonight?"
Travis didn't answer; he only smiled as he started his motorcycle. The drive to the apartment was uncharacteristically slow. At every stoplight, Travis would either cover my hands with his, or he would rest his hand on my knee. — Jamie McGuire

Thank you."
"Whatever."
"V, seriously - "
"Make that fuck you." When there was no slappy comeback, he looked up.
Shit. Butch was standing right in front of him, the cop's hazel eyes dark with a knowledge V wished the guy didn't have.
V dropped his stare to his lighter. "Whatever, cop, they're just knives."
The black tip of the dagger slid under V's chin and angled his head up. As he was forced to meet Butch's stare, V's body tensed. Then trembled.
With the weapon linking them, Butch said, "They're beautiful. — J.R. Ward

he talked until their food arrived, littering his chat with references to 'ninety k' and 'a quarter of a mill', and every sentence was angled, like a mirror, to show him in the best possible light: his cleverness, his quick thinking, his besting of slower, stupider yet more senior colleagues... — Robert Galbraith

She thought she should take a moment to pray. But, as she was holding a loaded rifle, conventional prayer did not seem entirely suitable. Sister Peg hoped that God would help her, but it was her belief that He much preferred for people to attend to themselves. Life was a test; it was up to you to pass it or not. She raised the gun to her clavicle and angled one eye down the length of the barrel. — Justin Cronin

B," Holly continued to list, ignoring her. "The way he's always angled to where you are. Like he's a big arrow, pointing at you all the time. And I mean that in a metaphoric, romantic way, not like, you know, a penis. — Erin Lawless

His golden-amber hair seemed to absorb the sunlight. His coloring was unquestionably Anglo-Saxon, but the dramatic lines of his cheekbones, angled at a rather tigerish slant, and the sensuous fullness of his wide mouth gave him a singularly exotic appeal. — Lisa Kleypas

In every species of fish I've angled for, it is the ones that have got away that thrill me the most, the ones that keep fresh in my memory. So I say it is good to lose fish. If we didn't, much of the thrill of angling would be gone. — Ray Bergman

I don't believe in prom,' I reminded her as she rounded a corner. I expertly angled my raisin bran to accomodate the g-forces. I'd done this before. — John Green

The reprieve doesn't last long though; within a couple of hours the waves are back up to 70 feet. A 70 foot wave has an angled face of well over 100 feet. The Seastate has reached levels that no one on the boat, and few people one earth, have ever seen. When the Contship Holland finally limped into port several days later, one of the officers stepped off and swore he would never set foot on another ship again. — Sebastian Junger

Customers must be delicately angled for at a safe distance - show yourself too much, and, like trout, they flashed away. — Mary Augusta Ward

Dragos angled his head and watched her leave. He still didn't like that image of her walking away. Someday you will trust me. Then you will tell me what more there was to the dream and why you were so shaken. You will not be afraid of me and you will tell me all your secrets. And then you will be mine. — Thea Harrison

Her laughter catches him off guard. As if it's carbonated and someone has poured it too fast and it's bubbling over in all directions. It doesn't fit at all with the gray cement and right-angled garden paving stones. It's an untidy, mischievous laugh that refuses to go along with rules and prescriptions. — Fredrik Backman

The man was in his late thirties, with coarse black hair and a powerfully angled face. The horse with him made a sudden noise, a high whining sound, and its graceful head tossed, jerked. The man let the reins go, and the horse galloped to the fence where Zeke stood waiting.
Mattie glanced at him. He'd climbed onto the fence and leaned over the top, softly whistling a series of notes. On his face was an expression Mattie had never seen - equal parts joy and sorrow. — Barbara Samuel

You feel good. So. So strong," Syn whispered. His last word came out as a sob. Syn pushed back into him, his fist clenched tight against the wall. "Mmmm. Fuck, right there." Furi bent a little at the knee, angled his cock upward, and ground his pelvis against Syn's ass, knowing his cock head was rubbing that special spot. "Oh god, Furi. Fuck me," Syn cried. Furi — A.E. Via

Shivering, Elide rose. He seemed bigger with every step. But that wing remained extended, as if she were the animal in need of calming. As she reached his side, she could hardly breathe as she extended a hand and stroked the curving, scaly hide. It was surprisingly soft, like worn leather. And toasty, as if he were a furnace. Carefully, aware of the head he angled to watch her every move, she sat down against him, her back instantly warmed. — Sarah J. Maas

She can. But I don't care what she thinks, she's not back to full strength yet."
Hawke raised an eyebrow. "Want a piece of advice, one male to another?" Judd waited. "Wolf females get really, really, really pissed off when their males don't support them against others in public." A flashing smile. "You're going to have to grovel to get back in her good graces."
"Loyalty. I understand that." And he did.
Hawke angled his head. "One of the scouts is returning. — Nalini Singh

With a deep regret, I wiggled out from under him despite his sleepy protests and grabbed articles of clothing as I tiptoed to his door. What amazing willpower I had. What fantastic self-control. I'd come over for one reason, and everything but that reason seemed to be resolved. When I reached the door, I saw what looked like another note. But this was his door, not mine. I peeled it off, then angled it until I could read it by the light of the fire.
Is that all you've got?
With a smile spreading slowly across my face, I dropped everything I'd just picked up and went back for more. — Darynda Jones

Aelin sighed. 'This place has been shut down for months, and yet I swear I can still hear the music floating in the air.'
Rowan angled his head, studying the dark with those immortal senses. 'Perhaps the music does live on, in some form.'
The thought made her eyes sting. — Sarah J. Maas

A dancer on break approached him. She smiled. Each tooth was angled in a different direction, as if her mouth were the masterwork of a mad orthodontist.
"Hi," she said.
"Hi."
"You're really cute."
"I don't have any money."
She spun and walked away. Ah, romance. — Harlan Coben

Somehow he knew it, knew the beast and whatever commanded it had tracked them from the Firejack to the Badlands and back again. And, although it was just a small speck, he could have sworn he saw the swaddled man perched on the drake's back before it angled its wings and disappeared from view. - — Anthony Ryan

Goddamn sneaking candy thief found my cache"
Peabody pursed her lips "You had candy in the file cabilnet." she angled her head "Under M?"
"M for MINE damn it — J.D. Robb

I perched my chin on his shoulder and smiled. "That was because you were trying to win our bet."
He angled his neck to face me. "Damn right I was. — Jamie McGuire

Then the long nights, that were also days, in the hospital. And the long blanks, that were also nights. Needles, and angled glass rods to suck water through. Needles, and curious enamel wedges slid under your middle. Needles, and - needles and needles and needles. Like swarms of persistent mosquitoes with unbreakable drills. The way a pincushion feels, if it could feel. Or the target of a porcupine. Or a case of not just momentary but permanently endured static electricity after you scuff across a woolen rug and then put your finger on a light switch. Even food was a needle - a jab into a vein ...
("For The Rest Of Her Life") — Cornell Woolrich

A man could be a lover and defender of the wilderness without ever in his lifetime leaving the boundaries of asphalt, powerlines, and right-angled surfaces. We need wilderness whether or not we ever set foot in it. We need a refuge even though we may never need to set foot in it. We need the possibility of escape as surely as we need hope; without it the life of the cities would drive all men into crime or drugs or psychoanalysis. — Edward Abbey

Lovecraft angled her head back until she was looking at Harrelson down her nose. "I trained as a librarian, and I run a bookstore. Fucking right I can use a gun. — Jonathan L. Howard

As I explain at some length in 'The Crystal Sun' this particular angle, which we can call the 'golden angle,' is the precise value of the acute angle of of a right-angled 'golden triangle' that embodies the golden mean proportion ....

The Danish art historian Else Kielland established with conclusive and absolutely overwhelming evidence and analysis that this angle was the basis for all Egyptian art and architecture. She did this in her monumental work 'Geometry in Egyptian Art' .....

The King's Chamber inside the Great Pyramid embodies no fewer than eight occurrences of the golden angle, and the coffer in the chamber embodies yet more. — Robert K. G. Temple

How I wished sometimes that I could join him in his stark, right-angled world, where everything was either right or wrong and there was no doubt which was which. What unimaginable luxury, never to wrestle with whether or why, never to lie awake nights wondering what if. — Hillary Jordan

Miss Brodie was easily the equal of both sisters together, she was the square on the hypotenuse of a right-angled triangle and they were only the squares on the other two sides. — Muriel Spark

While other girls were blurry, displaying cracks or, at the very least, seams

ripped jeans, coffee-stained T-shirts, hair that poufed up in the rain

Sophia always looked sharp, clear, as if the resolution had been turned up on a microscope and angled straight at her, as if the money had formed a kind of shrink wrap that kept her protected from the normal destruction of the everyday. — Lauren Oliver

When two people live in one place, their individual habits get amplified.
For example: I'm not lazy. But I don't like to move a whole lot. I mean, if I am doing something, I'll do it. I'm as active as the next guy. But if I'm sitting, I don't like to get up. Even if I'm facing the wrong way.
If I'm talking to someone whose chair isn't quite facing me, I'll talk to the side of their head. If I sit down and realize the TV is angled wrong, I won't get up to adjust. I'll watch it like that. I'll sit there and wait til someone walks by and ask them to move the TV. — Paul Reiser

I gasped a little as he smiled at me. A real smile. One that made his sharply angled face softer, made his eyes melt like soft candy. No, my devil wasn't going to push me . . . he was going to do what devils did best. He was going to tempt me. — Jay Crownover

Well, mi amore, this is awesome news! Let's get right on that," said Kami, and began to undo the buttons of her blouse. She looked down at the red buttons slipping out one by one from the black fabric of her shirt. She only had eight buttons, and there went the fourth. Jared sucked breath out of a horrified void and shouted, "stop that!" He angled himself to protect her from the eyes of a crowd that was not there. He hesitated, possibly because now he had a view directly down into shadows and curves. — Sarah Rees Brennan

The night-noises of the metro night: harbor-wind skirling on angled cement, the shush and sheen of overpass traffic, TPs' laughter in interior rooms, the yowl of unresolved cat-life. Horns blatting off in the harbor. Receding sirens. Confused inland gulls' cries. Broken glass from far away. Car horns in gridlock, arguments in languages, more broken glass, running shoes, a woman's either laugh or scream from who can tell how far, coming off the grid. Dogs defending whatever dog-yards they pass by, the sounds of chains and risen hackles. — David Foster Wallace

I see your young man has accompanied you today." Bea accepted Livia's hug with a gentle pat.
"He has. I'm so glad he gets to meet you." Livia held Bea's soft, delicate hand.
"I've noticed he always has his body angled toward yours," Bea reported seriously. "It's a good sign, my dear. I do believe you've found yourself a winner." She smiled. — Debra Anastasia

It came as a gift. A large gray bird flew up with a loud alarm call as he approached. As it gained height and wheeled away over the valley, it gave out a piping sound on three notes, which he recognized as the inversion of a line he had already scored for a piccolo. How elegant, how simple. Turning the sequence round opened up the idea of a plain and beautiful song in common time, which he could almost hear. But not quite. An image came to him of a set of unfolding steps, sliding and descending-from the trap door of a loft, or from the door of a light plane. One note lay over and suggested the next. He heard it, he had it, and then it was gone. There was a glow of a tantalizing afterimage and the fading call of a sad little tune ... These notes were perfectly interdependent, little polished hinges swinging the melody through its perfect arc. He could almost hear it again as he reached the top of the angled rock slab and paused to reach into his pocket for notebook and pencil. — Steven Pinker

He turned out to be a tender and considerate lover, despite his unfortunate, sharply angled pubic bone, which first time hurt like hell. He apologised for it, as one might for a mad but distant relative. By which I mean he was not particularly embarrassed. We settled the matter by making love with a folded towel between us, a remedy I sensed he had often used before. — Ian McEwan

I looked out at the street beyond the overhang. The rain was coming in at gray angled streaks. One of my hands moved to her cheek. I closed my eyes. Her skin was wet from the rain and I thought of tears. — Barry Eisler

It's going to be okay, Jacinda."
I angled my head. "So I won't be punished?"
"I convinced them that you wanted to return. I told them you're eager to fall back into pride life. That you'll behave yourself and be more compliant." His top lip curls faintly, and I remember what he told me in Chaparral when he found me, that he liked me because I was different from everyone else here. Now he wants me to be the same.
I inhale sharply through my nose. Compliant. Submissive. Meek. Biddable. Do I even have it in me?
"Compliant? Jacinda?" Az giggles, unaware of the tension. "They bought that? — Sophie Jordan

This is the first time I'm meeting your dad and your brothers ... all at the same time ... and you want me to calm down?" I said, climbing onto his bike behind him.
He angled his neck, touching my cheek as he kissed me. "They're going to love you, just like I do. — Jamie McGuire

The life of the spirit may be fairly represented in diagram as a large acute-angled triangle divided horizontally into unequal parts with the narrowest segment uppermost. The lower the segment the greater it is in breadth, depth, and area. — Wassily Kandinsky

He cradled her face between his hands, angled his mouth over hers, and welcomed the bliss she offered. Boldly, she gave her tongue the freedom to roam within his mouth. She sighed. He moaned.
He thought a man could become spoiled touching a woman. He might never want to touch stone again. Stone wasn't warm. It didn't alter its shape with the gentlest of pressures. Stone didn't breathe so he could feel its moisture on his face. Rocks didn't make soft sounds that he'd carry with him until the day he died. — Lorraine Heath

Morfyd's care.
As she walked out of the cave she passed Annwyl walking in. The girl had her swords in one hand. The other hand held her ripped shirt and bindings over her ample breasts. Her brows angled down into a dark frown and she wouldn't even look at Morfyd as she passed.
"How did that talk go then?" Morfyd called over her shoulder.
"Shut. Up."
Morfyd laughed as she advanced into the glen toward the clearing where she could take off. She rounded a corner and came upon her brother, his chainmail shirt and sword in his big hand, heading toward the hidden entrance of his cave. She watched him as he passed and she noticed the long scratches across his back.
"How did that talk go then?" Morfyd called over her shoulder.
"Shut. Up."
Morfyd shook her head. If love always made you this pathetic, she wanted nothing to do with it. — G.A. Aiken

I decided to lock myself in. A forced segregation. Sabbatical. A retreat into myself. My selves. Play hide and go seek in the looking-glass. The mirror angled at the foot of my bed. Twisted reflections bouncing off into infinity. Obsessed with my image, the myriad of distored figurines who danced in front of me in rapid succession, every feature exaggerated, every slight imperfection a new delicacy. — Lydia Lunch

In right-angled triangles the square on the side subtending the right angle is equal to the squares on the sides containing the right angle. — Euclid

You will know recycling has been picked up because your recycling bags will be gone and there will be a large, reddish brown smear across your front door roughly in the shape of an X. Or maybe it's a cross. It's not clear in the brochure I've been handed, which has no words, only dark black-and-white photographs of angled shadows along brick walls. I mean, municipal one-sheets are kind of useless, but this one is at least haunting. — Joseph Fink

How long has it been since you've been human?"
"Don't remember," he said. "A couple months, maybe."
Pen frowned. "And you just . . . live as a lion?"
"Mostly." He angled her a smirking smile, then dipped it toward her breasts. "I shift for various reasons."
"Other lions not doing it for you?"
"Wouldn't know. I haven't found any."
With another curse, he kicked at the heavy piece of asphalt that had grabbed his toe. He shifted his pack higher on his shoulder. "Just walk."
"Quite the seduction you've got going on. I don't know how I'll stand the anticipation. — Ellen Connor

He adjusted his body in relation to hers. His head angled down, his hand forming a canopy between them to shield her face from the sun. It was a useless gesture. only silence. The sunlight on her hair — Jhumpa Lahiri

I believe I was about to do this." He angled his head and nibbled on her lower lip. A small moan escaped her. Emboldened, he deepened the kiss and found she did not hesitate to explore on her own. Blood rushed to his groin and stiffened his arousal. Never had he met a lady so comfortable with her sensuality. — Angela Quarles

Seated atop the creature was a mermaid. She carried a crossbow. A sword hung from her hip. Her coppery hair, cut short, was angled over her forehead and cheekbones. Her green eyes blazed with fury.
'Go, Sera!' Becca shouted. 'Take back your throne! — Jennifer Donnelly

Because, you see, everything you know about the way this universe works is correct - except for the little problem that this isn't the only universe we have to worry about. Information can leak between one universe and another. And in a vanishingly small number of the other universes there are things that listen, and talk back - see Al-Hazred, Nietzsche, Lovecraft, Poe, et cetera. The many-angled ones, as they say, live at the bottom of the Mandelbrot set, except when a suitable incantation in the platonic realm of mathematics - computerised or otherwise - draws them forth. (And you thought running that fractal screen-saver was good for your computer?) — Charles Stross

In real life a right-angled triangle is very unlikely to have a square on its hypotenuse. — H. F. Ellis

the Battle of the Boyfriends since they almost got Adam Sandler to come judge the year after The Wedding Singer was in theaters." Her phone dinged. She whipped it out, and Will's gut went tight at the name on the readout. Lindsey. Pepper angled the phone away from his — Jamie Farrell

Lord, Your faithful love reaches to heaven, Your faithfulness to the skies." ... Does your love reach this far, God? And if it extends to heaven and beyond ... why can't it seem to find me?
"It's beautiful" I said, my voice clouded wroth embarrassment.
"It's more than that." He watched the ocean below. "It's like God painted it himself, then spun it into motion." Beckett angled hos head toward me, took his aviators off, and let his eyes burn into mine. "This is Ireland, Finley. It's rough. It's wild. And it's holy. — Jenny B. Jones

[Lena] "This is crazy, you know. How can you know me well enough to love me?"
"Lena." He pressed a kiss to her temple. "I know what I need to know. I know that your laugh makes me want to smile, and I know that when you're sad, it bothers me. I know I love to watch you, I know you blush when you realize I've been staring at you, even though it makes you smile, too."
He combed a hand through her hair, angled her head, and brushed her mouth with his. "I may not know everything there is to know about you, Lena, but I do know I'd like to spend my life learning the things I don't know. — Shiloh Walker

Fuck me. Austin." Michaels grunted at the first couple inches of penetration. Judge hissed a satisfied, "Yes." Michaels plunged in until his balls nestled against the soft fur on Judge's ass. Michaels moaned low, his voice raw and rough. His pace didn't match his dirty talk. The in and out tempo was slow and easy. Michaels used Judge's thick shoulder to drive in deeper each time. He angled to the right, his dick had already mapped out Judge's erogenous zones, and Michaels hit one every time. "Goddamnit," Judge rumbled, beneath him. "I love you." Michaels sighed over the moist skin at the base of Judge's neck. "Do I feel good, babe?" Michaels whispered, his lips moving against Judge's temple, his tongue licking out to claim the beads of sweat that slid across his brow. "Austin, — A.E. Via

A nurse's aid threw the contents of a patient's water glass out a window, the mass of water hitting the ground dislodging a pebble which rolled across the angled pavement and fell with a click on a stone culvert in the ditch below, startling a squirrel having at some sort of nut right there on the concrete pipe, causing the squirrel to run up the nearest tree, in doing which it disturbed a slender brittle branch and surprised a few nervous morning birds, of of which, preparatory to flight released a black-and-white glob of droppings, which glob fell neatly on the windshield of the tiny car of one Lenore Beadsman, just as she pulled into a parking space. Lenore got out of the car while birds flew away, making sounds. — David Foster Wallace

He pushed Rex's hand away and grabbed Rex's cock instead. Angled it and pushed his body down over Rex's cock, slowly, so fucking slowly that Rex thought he'd lose his mind. But this was his show, so Rex watched Sawyer's face until he was balls-deep inside him. "Beautiful — S.E. Jakes

You want me to list characteristics of a ... ?"
"Potential mate, yes, that would be helpful ... "
Without meaning to, I looked sideways at Patch. He was eased back in his seat, one notch above a slouch, studying me with satisfaction. He flashed his pirate smile and mouthed, We're waiting.
I stacked my hands on the table, hoping I lookedmore composed than I felt. "I've never thought about it before."
"Well, think fast."
"Could you call on someone else first?"
Coach gestured impatiently to my left. "You're up, Patch."
Unlike me, Patch spoke with confidence. He had himself positioned so his body was angled slightly toward mine, our knees mere inches apart.
"Intelligent. Attractive. Vulnerable — Becca Fitzpatrick

She angled her head to look up at him. Her blue eyes were huge in the moonlight. One tear still clung to her lash, looking like a shining jewel. He touched it with his fingertip and it dissolved, warm and wet into his skin. His gaze shifter to her bowshaped mouth. Her lips trembled, then parted. A soft mew of a sound escaped them.
There was nothing to do but kiss her. — B. J. Daniels

Fain would I turn back the clock and devote to French or some other language the hours I spent upon algebra, geometry, and trigonometry, of which not one principle remains with me. Stay! There is one theorem painfully drummed into my head which seems to have inhabited some corner of my brain since that early time: "The square on the hypotenuse of a right-angled triangle is equal to the sum of the squares on the other two sides!" There it sticks, but what of it, ye gods, what of it? — Jessie Belle Rittenhouse

I expertly angled my raison bran to accomodate the g-forces. — John Green

Deliberate motions are mistake free motions, she told herself as she angled in toward the tether. Mistake free motions are speed. Speed is life. — Evan Currie

Her beauty is the least of her dower-and she is the most beautiful woman I've ever known. That laugh of hers! I've angled all summer to evoke that laugh, just for the delight of hearing it. — L.M. Montgomery

The media portrayal of women is always angled towards looking thinner and skinnier and ... that's not good. — Sean Bean

I don't believe in right-angled turning points. — Timothy West

All it takes is six cuts," he said near her ear. She nodded, relaxing against him as he guided her hands with precision. One deep stroke of the blade neatly removed an angled section of wood. They rotated the pencil and made another cut, and then a third, creating a precise triangular prism. "Now trim the sharp edges." They concentrated on the task with his hands still bracketed over hers, using the blade to chamfer each corner of wood until they had created a clean, satisfying point. Done. — Lisa Kleypas

It worked! Holy shit, it worked! I just suited up and checked the lander. The high-gain antenna is angled directly at Earth! Pathfinder has no way of knowing where it is, so it has no way of knowing where Earth is. The only way for it to find out is getting a signal. They know I'm alive! I don't even know what to say. This was an insane plan and somehow it worked! I'm going to be talking to someone again. I spent three months as the loneliest man in history and it's finally over. Sure, I might not get rescued. But I won't be alone. The whole time I was recovering Pathfinder, I imagined what this moment would be like. I figured I'd jump up and down a bit, cheer, maybe flip off the ground (because this whole damn planet is my enemy), but that's not what happened. When I got back to the Hab and took off the EVA suit, I sat down in the dirt and cried. Bawled like a little kid for several minutes. I finally settled down to mild sniffling and then felt a deep calm. It was a good calm. — Andy Weir

The press box at Wrigley Field in Chicago is an extended narrow shed, two rows deep, that is precariously bolted to the iron rafters just underneath the park's second deck. To gain access, one must climb a steeply angled ramp and clamber down a little starboard companionway, guarded at its foot by a uniformed minion and then proceed giddily along a catwalk that hangs directly above the tiered, circling rows of seats and spectators behind home plate. — Roger Angell

And his simple bravery, his quiet pride, finally broke her. She let the cloth slip from her fingers and bent down to kiss him. His reaction was immediate and decided. He wrapped his strong arms around her waist and pulled her into his lap, forcing her to straddle his legs. He cradled the back of her head in the spread of his fingers, angled his head for a better fit, and opened his mouth over hers. And, oh, the man knew how to kiss. — Elizabeth Hoyt

In a right-angled triangle, the hypotenuse is the side opposite the right angle". A sentence that later flabbergasted the inhabitants of el Idilio, who took it to be a wird tongue twister or a mysterious incantation". — Luis Sepulveda

The graceful pride of truth knows no extremes, and preserves, in every latitude of life, the right-angled character of man. — Thomas Paine

My eye is still used to searching for her in a crowd. My breath is still used to catching when I see her and the light is angled just right. My body is still used to hers moving next to mine. So the distance - anything short of contact - is a constant rejection. We were together for six months, and in each of those months my desire found new ways to be fueled by her. It's over can't kill that. All of the songs I wrote in my head were for her, and now I can't stop them from playing. This null soundtrack. I'm tired, she'd said, and I told her that I was tired, too, and that I wanted to take some time for us, too. And then she'd said, No, I'm tired of you, and I slipped into the surreal-but-true universe where we were over and I wasn't over it. She was no longer any kind of here that I could get to — David Levithan

Rowan's head was still angled as he asked, "Your mothers were cousins, Prince, but who sired
you?"
Aedion lounged in his chair. "Does it matter?"
"Do you know?" Rowan pressed.
Aedion shrugged. "She never told me - or anyone."
"I'm guessing you have some idea?" Aelin asked.
Rowan said, "He doesn't look familiar to you?"
"He looks like me."
"Yes, but - " He sighed. "You met his father. A few weeks ago. Gavriel — Sarah J. Maas

The morning sun danced on her hair, transforming the brown to gold and reddish glints. An errant sunbeam angled over her face, dusting her long lashes with light, accentuating the perfection of her nose, her cheekbones, and the beauty of her complexion. — Karen Ranney

There may be trouble. Anybody goes in there needs to know how to handle a gun. Do you?"

Lovecraft angled her head back until she was looking at Harrelson down her nose. "I trained as a librarian, and I run a bookstore. Fucking right I can use a gun." pg. 221. — Jonathan L. Howard

Hanging back to get her reaction under control, she wiped her knife on the edge of her petticoat, then angled her body away so she could raise her skirts enough to slip the knife into its sheath, taking care not to drop the pilfered food cradled in her other arm. When she straightened, she expected Darius and Jacob to be well ahead but instead found her companions only a few yards away, their far-too-curious eyes riveted on her. "So that's where you keep it." Darius's attention dropped to a spot halfway down her skirt. "I had wondered." Nicole lifted her chin. "Yes, well, I tried carrying it around in one of those lacy little reticules, but it kept getting tangled in the ribbons. Not very practical." Keeping her eyes averted from Darius's face, she marched past the gawkers and headed for the house. — Karen Witemeyer

His gaze lifted as he leaned in, placing his mouth an inch from mine. The air was sucked right out of the room, and I felt dizzy again. "Ever since I first saw you." He moved so that his mouth was angled with mine. "And right now I want to so badly it hurts. You have no idea, Em, but I don't want to hurt you."
My gaze dropped to his parted lips. What would it be like to feel them against my own? Unable to stop myself, I brought my mouth within a hair's breadth of his. "I want to kiss you, too. — Jennifer L. Armentrout

Giving him a grateful nod, Graydon turned away.
A heavy hand fell on his shoulder, causing him to stop in his tracks. Dragos' grip clenched, almost to the point of pain.
Normally, Dragos was not demonstrative with anyone other than Pia and Liam. Moved, Graydon angled his face away. After a moment, he reached up to grip the other man's hand in return. Only then did Dragos' hold ease and allow him to continue on his way. — Thea Harrison

Parking in Seattle is an eight-step process. Step one, find a place to park (gooood luuuuck!). Step two, back into the angled parking space (who ever innovated that should be sentenced to the chokey). — Maria Semple

Cole, did you ever stop to think maybe on some level Brandon knew you always loved Gemma and maybe this was his way of driving you two together?" Cole went quiet for a moment, then angled his head. "Have you been taking shrink classes, pal?" Jack laughed and toyed with his dog tags. "No, but I've been to enough of them to know how this all works." He got quiet for a moment, like he was thinking about his own demons, before saying, "I know Brandon asked you to watch over her, but she's a strong, independent woman. Maybe she's not in need of your protection. — Cathryn Fox

Open your mouth, tesoro." He angled her face higher. "Open your mouth for me."
At his raw demand, her eyes flared wide. For a drunken moment, he drowned in glorious brown, rich, autumnal, sensual. — Anna Campbell

Ransie was a narrow six feet of sallow brown skin and yellow hair. The imperturbability of the mountains hung upon him like a suit of armor. The woman was calicoed, angled, snuff-brushed, and weary with unknown desires. Through it all gleamed a faint protest of cheated youth unconscious of its loss. — O. Henry

Unable to resist any longer, he buried his fingers in the hair at the base of her neck and angled her face upward. He leaned forward and dropped soft little kisses onto her lips, starting at the corner and working his way across until she began to stir. Her lashes flittered. "Gid - ?" He smothered her question with his kiss. No longer playful, he took her mouth fully, holding nothing back. She was no longer Adelaide Proctor, governess. She was Adelaide Westcott, wife. His wife. It didn't take long for her to recover from her surprise. She clasped his shoulder for support and stretched toward him. His pulse surged, and when she finally pulled away, he refused to let her separate from him completely. He rested his forehead against hers and listened to their ragged breaths echoing in the quiet morning. "Feeling better today, are we?" Adelaide asked as she lowered her head back down to her pillow, her face a becoming shade of pink. Gideon grinned. "A little. — Karen Witemeyer

We get to come back," Aelin said, pushing her hand harder and harder into her wound until the blood stopped, until it was only her tears that flowed. "Dorian, we get to come back from this loss - from this darkness. We get to come back, and I came back for you."
She was weeping now, weeping as that wind faded away and her wound knitted closed.
The prince's daggers had gone slack in his hands.
And on his finger, Athril's golden ring glowed.
"Fight it," she panted. The sun angled closer. "Fight it. We get to come back. — Sarah J. Maas

The Tamimis were notable among the people of the West Bank, and not only for their striking appearance. Nearly everyone in the village bore a pale complexion, like Northern Europeans, with hair colored bright blonde or sandy brown, light-colored eyes, and high, sharply angled cheekbones. Their features reflected a lineage drawn directly from the Crusaders, offering a reminder of the many invaders and occupiers whose blood became intertwined with the heritage of Palestine. — Max Blumenthal

It lays on his abdomen, angled slightly to the left. It's almost cute-kind of like Snuffleupagus. Well, not really. It's huge, but not hairy, and also not nearly as daunting as when it's hard. It is magical, though. I stifle a giggle because, goddamn it, I've never seen a snuffie up close. The head is tucked up inside the soft skin, an eye peering out from the turtleneck. — Helena Hunting

She watched him, her head angled. He sometimes felt that she looked at him the way a cat regards a mouse. He just wondered how long it would take for her to pounce. — Sarah J. Maas

A question: when is a bed not a bed? When it is angled lie-flat. My back hurts, my legs ache and my clothes are all rumpled - and all because the airline, which claimed to have a bed, actually offered up a torture machine which I prefer to call a slide. — Richard Quest

If love had a pulse, like a heartbeat, would you find yourself oscillating like an isosceles triangle at the righteousness of a right-angled one? — Jarod Kintz

The three wolves looked tentatively at Decebel.
"Oh, for crying out loud, Dec. Tell them you won't beat them if they play cards with the two humans." Jen glared at him. Decebel had not taken his eyes off of Jen since she had declared she wanted to get her game on. Finally he relented and turned to his pack mates, who all cringed under his scrutiny.
"No touching," he said, as he sat back rigidly, angled so he could watch every move of the game.
Loftis, Quinn (2011-11-18). Blood Rites: Book 2 Grey Wolves Series (The Grey Wolves Series) (p. 225). Kindle Edition. — Quinn Loftis

Margaret . . ." The name was part groan, part growl. She was filled with a sweet, aching longing to bridge the lingering space between them. She leaned down and their lips met in a feather touch. Sparks thrilled her every nerve. He angled his head to deepen the kiss, pressing his mouth to hers, fervently, fiercely. Her head felt light, her pulse pounded. What was she doing? The heady, delicious kiss took her off guard. She had never expected such a passionate, forceful embrace from a man she had once thought timid. A man who doesn't know what he is doing, she reminded herself. Who is dreaming. She, on the other hand, knew very well what she was doing. She tried to pull away but, leaning over as she was, fell forward, her elbows spearing his chest. Crying out, she scrambled out of his hold and to her feet. — Julie Klassen