Body Curve Quotes & Sayings

The most beautiful curve on a woman's body is her smile. — Bob Marley

A woman is often measured by the things she cannot control. She is measured by the way her body curves or doesn't curve, by where she is flat or straight or round. She is measured by 36-24-36 and inches and ages and numbers, by all the outside things that don't ever add up to who she is on the inside. And so if a woman is to be measured, let her be measured by the things she can control, by who she is and who she is trying to become. Because as every woman knows, measurements are only statistics ... and STATISTICS LIE. — Marilyn Monroe

We were both quiet a long time and I was about to fall back asleep in the curve of his arm with his warm body at my back when he called my name.
"Laurie?"
"Yes," I muttered, my voice sleepy.
"I was pissed last night."
"I know."
"You look good."
"Sorry?"
"No way you can look like all the rest."
My eyes shot open.
His arm curled me deeper into his body and I felt his face burrow into my hair.
"You'd always shine through," he muttered and now he sounded sleepy but I was again wide awake. "Somethin' special," he finished. — Kristen Ashley

I place my hands on his chest. He presses me into the curve of his body. Tilts my chin up to meet his eyes. "I'll be good to you," he whispers. "I'll be so good to you, Juliette. I promise."
And he kisses me. Hungrily. Desperately. Eager to break me open and taste me. — Tahereh Mafi

Your smile is the most gorgeous curve on your body. — Bobbie Thomas

They say your skin is the largest organ in your body, but I'd never really appreciated that before, the way his fingertips slowly tracing the curve of my jaw could travel down the entire length of my body, covering me in goose bumps. The way he could make me feel flushed with something that wasn't fever. — Robyn Schneider

A woman's beauty lies, not in any exaggeration of the specialized zones, nor in any general harmony that could be worked out by means of the sectio aurea or a similar aesthetic superstition; but in the arabesque of the spine. The curve by which the back modulates into the buttocks. It is here that grace sits and rides a woman's body. — John Updike

One does not need a faith in God. Sufficient is a faith in created things, that enables one to move among objects in the conviction that they exist, persuaded of the irrefutable reality of this chair, this umbrella, this cigarette, this friendship. He who doubts himself is lost, just as someone scared of failure in love-making fails indeed. We are happy in the company of people who make us feel the unquestionable presence of the world, just as the body of the beloved gives us the certainty of those shoulders, that bosom, that curve of the hips, the surge of these as incontestable as the sea. And one who is in despair, we are taught by Singer, can act as though he believed: faith will come afterwards. — Claudio Magris

As women, we were immensely powerful, Sister Aziza explained. The way Allah had created us, our hair, our nails, our heels, our neck, and ankles - every little curve in our body was arousing. If a woman aroused a man who was not her husband, she was sinning doubly in God's eyes, by leading the man into temptation and evil thoughts to match her own. Only the robe worn by the wives of the Prophet could prevent us from arousing men and leading society into fitna, uncontrollable confusion and social chaos. She — Ayaan Hirsi Ali

Rob came to me and I stood, his body fitting against mine so easy, my shoulder tucked under his, his hip against the curve of my waist. I looked up at him, and he ducked his head to give me a soft, gentle, easy kiss.
It were a husband's kiss, I rather thought. It weren't the first kiss, a thing of hunger and new tastes. It weren't all our sad kisses of leaving and coming back, full of desperation and scared. It were just a kiss. A kiss that felt like he'd done it before, a kiss that knew he could do it again.
Then again, it also sent lightning crackling down my back, and I remembered there were ways we weren't husband and wife just yet. I felt a blush running up my face and he stroked my cheek, kissing me again. — A.C. Gaughen

Savannah moved gracefully, going directly across the darkened street, heading for the shadows of the square. She was very much aware of Gregori still close to her, his body protective. For a moment she thought he brushed her shoulder with his hand, the sensation was so real, but when she turned her head, he was several feet behind.
Go, ma petite, take Gary to the house.Do not allow the neighbors to see either of you.And place the safeguards carefully.
What about you?
There is no safeguard I cannot unravel. Go now. This time, there was so mistake. He was four feet away, already turning away from her, but she felt his mouth burning possessively on hers, lingering for just a moment, his tongue tracing the curve of her lip. She couldn't believe he could make her want him, burn for him, when he was going off into the night alone to fight their enemies.
The night has always been mine, Savannah.Do not waste your time worrying about me. — Christine Feehan

He wanted to possess her mouth, her body, her mind and heart. To touch every deep, soft and secret part of her: the tender arch of her palate, the vulnerable curve beneath each breast, the snug corner of her heart where his memory lived.

-Luke's thoughts — Tessa Dare

Nevertheless his prodigious intellectual powers persisted unabated. In 1696, the Swiss mathematician Johann Bernoulli challenged his colleagues to solve an unresolved issue called the brachistochrone problem, specifying the curve connecting two points displaced from each other laterally, along which a body, acted upon only by gravity, would fall in the shortest time. — Carl Sagan

At night, the valleys of my body curve around him, creating a geography I never knew existed before, where size is relative and more is always better, and I can't seem to get enough of it. — Tiffany Baker

I like my women soft and round. His blue gaze burned into hers. I don't lie, Becca. I love your body, every single curve, every dimple, every scar. — Cherise Sinclair

Do you need me to take your temperature?" "What?" What the hell was he talking about? "What are you - " The words died on his lips, and his jaw dropped when Dex stepped into the doorway. "I said, do you need me to check your temperature, Mr. Brodie?" "Sweet Jesus." It took some effort for Sloane to close his mouth, but eventually he managed it. Dex strutted into the room dressed in nurse's scrubs made of white latex so tight it was all but painted on his body. The V-neck top exposed his collarbone and emphasized the curve of every muscle, from his lean sculpted torso, to his muscular legs, and the prominent outline of his hard dick. The white was a stark contrast against his tanned skin. Holy hell, his partner looked like something out of a porn magazine. Wait. — Charlie Cochet

The Sonnets to Orpheus, Part Two, XII
Want the change. Be inspired by the flame
where everything shines as it disappears.
The artist, when sketching, loves nothing so much
as the curve of the body as it turns away. — Rainer Maria Rilke

You need a minute? Or can we get on with it? She tilted her head with a flirty grin.
I wanted desperately to tell her I was so ready to get on with it: in my bed, on the floor, against the wall, in the shower. Definitely in the shower - rivulets of water streaming down her body, the curve of her breasts, the dip of her hips. — Adriane Leigh

Hawke."
"Shh ... Lie back and think of England."
Laughter reawakened inside of her, bubbling its way past the raw burn of emotion. "I'd rather think of you."
She felt his smile against the curve of her abdomen, his jaw rough with stubble that made her shiver as he kissed his way oh-so-slowly down her body. — Nalini Singh

Christ, she missed him outrageously. Disgusted with herself, she ducked her head under the spray and let it pound on her brain.
When hands slipped around her waist, then slid up to cup her breasts, she barely jolted. But her heart leaped. She knew his touch, the feel of those long, slim fingers, the texture of those wide palms. She tipped her head back, inviting a mouth to the curve of her shoulder.
"Mmm. Summerset. You wild man."
Teeth nipped into flesh and made her chuckle. Thumbs brushed over her soapy nipples and made her moan.
"I'm not going to fire him." Roarke trailed a hand down the center of her body.
"It was worth a shot. You're back ... " His fingers dipped expertly inside her, slick and slippery, so that she arched, moaned, and came simultaneously. "Early," she finished on an explosive breath. "God."
"I'd say I was just on time. — J.D. Robb

Do it, Octavian" She ghosted the tips of her fingers along the hem of his shirt. "Touch me."
He growled low in his throat, his forehead dropping another inch toward her shoulder, his hair tickling the side of her face. "Be my angel, Riley, not my siren. Don't tempt me."
Moistening her lips with a sweep of her tongue, Riley glided her fingers over his belt, tracing the strip of leather to the silver buckle in the center. She felt rather than heard his deep inhalation and the tremor that raked his powerful body. Driven by his surrender, she used two fingers to walk over the square carvings etched into his abdomen, biting her lip to stop the grin that pulled when he groaned.
"I want to be both for you, Octavian," she whispered, letting her lips brush the curve of his shoulder. — Airicka Phoenix

Beauty is merely defined by the very core of one's soul, which then and only then outlines one's outside features, reflecting beyond the body. With every line representing who you are.
The wrinkles around the eyes from laughing so hard, the callus on ones hands from giving, the scars on one body from "living", the curve of ones mouth from the words their speaking, the lines on one's for curiosity their building.
Truth is we all hold our own definition of beauty, it's that simple. — Lisa Abu-Bakr

The assassin crouched atop one of the shorter, thicker pillars, his body a curve of taut muscles beneath nondescript gray clothes. He looked more like a weapon than a person. — Leah Cypess

He had forgotten that grief does not decline in a straight line or along a slow curve...almost as if his body contained a big pile of garden rubbish full of both heavy lumps of dirt and of sharp thorny brush that would stab him when he least expected it.
p 35 — Helen Simonson

She lifted the tails of his elegant silk evening shirt. "Some that don't reach my knees?"
He cleared his throat. He liked her wrapped in his shirt, surrounded by him. "Well, actually, as Joshua knows, that is one of your annoying habits. You like to run around in my shirts. You think they are much more comfortable than your own clothes."
Alexandria regarded him with wide blue eyes. "Oh, I do, do I? I take it you grumble about it."
"Often, to Josh. We laugh together about the idiosyncrasies of women. He thinks you look cute in my shirts."
"And what would give a little boy an idea like that?"
He looked unrepentant. "I might have mentioned it a time or two."
His golden eyes slid over her body, making her aware of her bare skin beneath his shirt, of every curve of her body, of the fact that they were completely alone in some secret chamber of his home.
"It is true, after all. You do look cute in my shirt. — Christine Feehan

The most highly prized curve of all is that of the bosom ... — Germaine Greer

Was he curious about her?
That was putting it mildly. He was curious about the noises she might make if he kissed her properly and the colour of her nipples and what she tasted like between her legs and the extent of her tattoo and how she'd sounded as she came. He was curious about where she liked to be touched and whether she'd let him take charge and if she liked giving head. He was curious about the long curve of her spine and the dip of her hip and how she'd looked straddled atop of him, her hair loose, her breasts bouncing as he pushed her over the edge.
Or curled up beside him in bed, naked, her body branded by his. — Amy Andrews

The breaking wave and the muscle as it contracts obey the same law. Delicate line gathers the body's total strength in a bold balance. Shall my soul meet so severe a curve, journeying on its way to form? — Dag Hammarskjold

A woman's body was a work of art. One to be explored and appreciated. Every curve, every valley, every freckle a treasure to discover. Every nerve ending a challenge to ignite with pleasure. Now, where to start? — Olivia Cunning

In your study of anatomy, did you ever learn the name of the place between the nose and the lip?" Her lips parted, and she resisted the urge to lean toward him, to force him to touch her. She answered on a whisper. "The philtrum." He smiled. "Clever girl. It is Latin. Do you know its meaning?" "No." "It means love potion. The Romans believed it was the most erotic place on the body. They called it Cupid's bow, because of the way it shapes the upper lip." As he spoke, he ran his finger along the curve of her lip, a temptation more than a touch, barely there. His voice grew softer, deeper. "They believed it was the mark of the god of love." She — Sarah MacLean

It is not the right angle that attracts me, nor the straight line, hard and inflexible, created by man. What attracts me is the free and sensual curve - the curve that I find in the mountains of my country, in the sinuous course of its rivers, in the body of the beloved woman. — Oscar Niemeyer

I thought about that as he held me in the curve of his body. I thought about him enjoying the killing. I didn't like the thought much, but if he was a sociopathic killer, then he was my sociopathic killer. — Laurell K. Hamilton

He spins us both, wrapping us in his wings until I'm dazed and giggling.
"I wanted to lift you above me and swing you in circles until we were both dizzy and laughing," he murmurs against my neck as we tumble to the ground, trapped beneath his tented wings.
My body aches on impact - but it's a delicious ache. I can hardly breathe with the weight of his ribs covering mine, with the scent of his tobacco surrounding me, smothering and intoxicating. The curve of his smiling mouth glides along my collarbone and I gasp at the velvety sensation. I force his head up so I can look at him ... break the spell.
He slips the bejeweled headband from my hair, sweeping stray strands from my face. The slickness of his gloves grazes my eye markings.
"I wanted to kiss your lips and share your breath," he says softly as he leans close. — A.G. Howard

Whilst man is in one location, he thinks of another. Dancing with one woman, he can't help but long to see the quiet curve of another's nude shoulder; to never be satisfied, to never have the mind and body cheerfully stranded in a single location - this is the curse of the human race! — Marisha Pessl

Leo backed me against the door frame, his demeanor turning all 'take-no-prisoners' as he pinned me in place with his hips. His hands traced up and down the curve of my body until they wound their way through the loose strands of my hair. He was in control, I was totally at his mercy, and I. Didn't. Even. Care. — Sarah Darlington

Every nerve ending in my body is awake. I've never felt so alive or so desperate in my life, and I'm sure if she could hear what I'm thinking right now, she'd run out the door and never come back.
Because I want her.
Now.
Here.
Everywhere.
I want nothing between us.
I want her clothes off and the lights on and I want to study her. I want to unzip her out of this dress and take my time with every inch of her. I can't help my need to just stare; to know her and her features: the slope of her nose, the curve of her lips, the line of her jaw. I want to run my fingertips across the soft skin of her neck and trace it all the way down. I want to feel the weight of her pressed against me, wrapped around me. — Tahereh Mafi

From around the blind curve of the trail, the main appeared. He was tall, built, and armed and dangerous, though not to her physical well-being. Nope, nothing about the tough, sinewy, gorgeous forest ranger was a threat to her body.
But Matt Bowers was lethal to her peace of mind. — Jill Shalvis

I used to know a sculptor ... He always said that if you looked hard enough, you could see where each person carried his soul in his body. It sounds crazy, but when you saw his sculptures, it made sense. I think the same is true with those we love ... Our bodies carry our memories of them, in our muscles, in our skin, in our bones. My children are right here." She pointed to the inside curve of her elbow. "Where I held them when they were babies. Even if there comes a time when I don't know who they are anymore. I believe I will feel them here. — Erica Bauermeister

It surprised him that his grief was sharper than in the past few days. He had forgotten that grief does not decline in a straight line or along a slow curve like a graph in a child's math book. Instead, it was almost as if his body contained a big pile of garden rubbish full both of heavy lumps of dirt and of sharp thorny brush that would stab him when he least expected it. — Helen Simonson

And she'd apologize for being so sensitive and moody lately. His warm hand on her hip brought her into the curve of his body. With his breath on her neck, she fell into a deep sleep, convinced that she was safe. — Lisa Genova

Look at me and tell me if I don't have Brazil in every curve of my body. — Carmen Miranda

What is more like love than the ocean? You can play in it, drown in it ... it can be clear and bright enough to hurt your eyes, or covered in fog, hidden behind a curve of roads and then suddenly there in full glory. It's waves come like breaths, in and out, body stretched to forever in it's possibilities, and yet it's heart lies deep, not fully knowable, inconceivably majestic. — Deb Caletti

Her fingers crawled upwards and touched the outer curve of her breast, and the fingers paused, quaking in fear; but after the moment, despite the panic trying to break out of its shadows and seize her mind, she told her fingers, go on. This is my body. I reclaim my body for myself: for my use, for my understanding, for my kindness and care. Go on. And the fingers walked cautiously on, over the curiously muscleless, faintly ridged flesh, cooler than the rest of the body, across the tender nipple, into the deep cleft between, and out onto the breast that lay limp and helpless and hardly recognizable as round, lying like a hunting trophy over her other arm. Mine, she thought. My body. It lives on the breaths I breathe and the food I eat; the blood my heart pumps reaches all of me, into all my hidden crevices, from my scalp to my heels. — Robin McKinley

I did say when we were wed that I would always see ye fed, no?" He pulled me closer, tucking my head into the curve of his shoulder. "I gave ye three things that day," he said softly. "My name, my family, and the protection of my body. You'll have those things always, Sassenach - so long as we both shall live. No matter where we may be. I willna let ye go hungry or cold; I'll let nothing harm ye, ever. — Diana Gabaldon

I want to be the friend you fall hopelessly in love with. The one you take into your arms and into your bed and into the private world you keep trapped in your head. I want to be that kind of friend. The one who will memorize the things you say as well as the shape of your lips when you say them. I want to know every curve, every freckle, every shiver of your body.
I want to know where to touch you, I want to know how to touch you. I want to know convince you to design a smile just for me. Yes, I do want to be your friend. I want to be your best friend in the entire world. — Tahereh Mafi

I want to look my best, but I'm not a model. I'm not an actress. I'm representing normal girls. It's OK to have a little bit of curve. I'm happy with my body. So many girls come up to me and say, "Thank you for being normal," and I'm proud of that. — Miranda Lambert

The curve of my waist in a tight fitting summer dress can really make me new friends. — Sara Sheridan

She has built her whole life on the foundation of beauty: each chiseled plane, each sloping dimple, each soft curve as crucial as keystones in the cathedral of her body. — Nenia Campbell

As day gradually turns to night, Nadia then lifts her naked body from the floor, and like a goddess, she moves across the room with a stride that gives complement to every curve of her figure. She now leans over the coffee table to strike a match that breaks the light of night that clings to her. One by one, Nadia lights each candle in perfect form as the glowing contrast of light and dark dances around the edges of her beautiful body. She then looks at me again, she being this magical creature who has given me life to every body and realm; and oh how grateful I am that she has found me. — Luccini Shurod

One of the best parts of a woman's body is that curve, and I go a little bit higher on all of my things to show off the best part of the hourglass. — Melissa McCarthy

Want the change. Be inspired by the flame
where everything shines as it disappears.
The artist, when sketching, loves nothing so much
as the curve of a body as it turns away. — Rainer Maria Rilke

It's about how some people carelessly squander what others would sell their souls to have: a healthy, pain-free body. And why? Because they're too blind, too emotionally scarred, or too self-involved to see past the earth's dark curve to the next sunrise. Which always comes, if one continues to draw breath. — Stephen King

Caitlin." Hawkins touched her cheek. "That wasn't quite what I had in mind." "Oh, for heaven's sake," she burst out, "do you not see how silly you're being?" "It's only silly if you continue to shy from me like a maiden. You're the MacBride. You've done worse than kiss an Englishman." His hands held her fast at the arms, and he bent to whisper in her ear. "I won the forfeit." His breath caressed the curve of her ear. "I want to feel the fullness of your lips with my own. I want to slide them open with my tongue and taste the sweetness of your mouth. I want to feel your body pressed to - " Summoning the last of her composure, she said, "You've made your point." His hands lifted to her shoulders. "Well? I'm waiting. — Susan Wiggs

Sonnets To Orpheus, Part Two, XII
Want the change. Be inspired by the flame
where everything shines as it disappears.
The artist, when sketching, loves nothing so much
as the curve of the body as it turns away.
What locks itself in sameness has congealed.
Is it safer to be gray and numb?
What turns hard becomes rigid
and is easily shattered.
Pour yourself like a fountain.
Flow into the knowledge that what you are seeking
finishes often at the start, and, with ending, begins.
Every happiness is the child of a separation
it did not think it could survive. And Daphne, becoming a laurel,
dares you to become the wind. — Rainer Maria Rilke

One of his hands caught her knee from beneath, urging her leg higher against his, and he pushed strongly within her.
She shuddered, her body locked to him, and then a languorous warmth suffused her as she relaxed to his rhythm. Their clothes rustled together, crushed masses of silk and broadcloth and velvet, separating them everywhere except in the wet, naked heat of their loins. She leaned against the door, her body rising from each upward drive. She was utterly possessed by him, no longer caring about the risk they were taking, conscious only of the ecstasy of his flesh joined to hers. Muttering fiercely into the curve of her neck, he thrust faster, creating silken friction that finally drove her into a scalding orgasm. — Lisa Kleypas

Konnor said a silent prayer and made his move. He slid his hand over the curve of Grayson's neck and took the gigantic leap into the unknown. He kissed him.
A few braincells died the moment Grayson kissed him back. Then a few more, when those perfect lips he'd been admiring for the last six months opened beneath his kiss.
He kissed Grayson the way he'd always wanted to kiss him, teasing those parted lips with a lick of appreciation before slipping his tongue into his mouth. A tongue brushed his and he moaned at the little shots of pleasure that coursed through his whole body.
Kissing Grayson was better than any sex with Tam. Just as he'd always known it would be. He had always found kissing to be such an intimate thing, so delicious and nerve shattering. No physical thing could say what a kiss could; not in his mind. — Elaine White

Because they're wet, Noah's jeans are a bit stubborn sliding down, but he's successful, and in the mirror I'm drawn to his naked body. I love the raw power of his shoulder blades and the curve of his back that trails lower to his ... my mouth dries out ... oh, crap ... his butt is ... how do I describe something so exquisite?
Everything about Noah is sexy, and as he bends to pull the jeans off his foot
"If you get in the shower with me, Echo, you'd get a better look and you'd warm up." — Katie McGarry

I saw the way Rathbone looked at you," he said, taking a little nip at the delicate curve of her ear.
She gave a little squeak, so he did it again, feeling the tremor that ran through her body.
"He wants you. I saw the way you were laughing together. He was seeing you for the first time, the way I did."
"Amazing how many blind men there are in London," she said. — Eloisa James

The soul consists of two parts, one irrational and the other capable of reason. (Whether these two parts are really distinct in the sense that the parts of the body or of any other divisible whole are distinct, or whether though distinguishable in thought as two they are inseparable in reality, like the convex and concave of a curve, is a question of no importance for the matter in hand.) — Aristotle.

Are we napping?" she asked.
"For a little," he said.
He wasn't napping. He concentrated every cell of his body on memorizing the weight of her against him, and the smell of her hair in the sun. His arms measured the slender curve of her torso. His fingers separated out a single strand of her hair. Her breathing slowed, easing, while his watchful heart chugged on, stupid and hungry, and the red bracelet stayed in his pocket. — Caragh M. O'Brien

I stalked over to Echo, feeling like a tiger after its prey. She backed up against the wall, but i kept up my approach. I pressed against her, feeling each sensual curve. I wanted to touch every inch of her body. Her sweet smell intoxicated me.
Her eyes kept their laughter, but her smile faded as she bit her lower lip. Damn, did she have any idea what she was doing? For a girl hell-bent on keeping me away, she sure did everything to turn me on. — Katie McGarry

I stared into his eyes and waited his response. Neither one of us moved. Dear God, Lila and Natalie were right. He was hot. How could i have missed a body built like this? His unzipped jacket exposed hit t-shirt, so tight i could see the curve of his muscles. And those dark brown eyes ... — Katie McGarry