Body Melt Quotes & Sayings

His flesh seemed to melt comfortably into Roger's own, his trust so complete that it was not necessary even to maintain the boundaries of his body - Daddy would do that. — Diana Gabaldon

Cell phones have a way of disliking the bayou and the river. It must be water thing."
"But what about when you weren't i the bayou? Surely Calhoun gave you a cell phone to keep in touch when you were in town."
"I melted two of them. he decided it wasn't worth it."
He looked down at her to see if she was teasing him. Her gaze was all too serious. "You melted them?"
She nodded. "I melt things. Accidentally."
Nicholas wasn't touching that. Considering all that melting going on inside of him any time he was close to her he could believe she'd melted a couple of phones. After all, they were much smaller than he was. His breath chuffed out and he took her hand, deciding to try to diffuse the situation. "Try not to melt any body parts. — Christine Feehan

The man had a smart mouth, a hard body, and questionable motives. In short, he was exactly what made her panties melt. — Avery Flynn

A dangerous flicker of energy passes between us, and I see his pupils dilate as arousal floods his body. His mouth finds me aggressively, and his lips close around mine, pushing his tongue inside my mouth; claiming me. I melt into the kiss, aware that his hungry cock will soon be mirroring the actions of his hot tongue, but this time in my tight arsehole. — Felicity Brandon

But suddenly he comprehended why her face haunted him, why he felt this terrible need to see her again: it was to possess her, to melt into her, to burn, to burn, to burn to ashes on that body and in those eyes. To postpone such a desire for a week, a month, a year, several years even, that can be done. But for eternity is when the iron bites. — John Fowles

I try to give him a dirty look, but I can't help but laugh. "Yes, I'm laughing at you." Raffe pulls me closer and kisses me again. I melt into his taut body. I can't help myself. I'm not even sure I should try. My whole world turns into Raffe sensations as our lips explore each other. — Susan Ee

Do you trust me, Pidge?" I asked, a little nervous.
"Yeah, why?"
"C'mere," I said, pulling her against me. I waited for her to protest, but she only froze for a few moments before letting her body melt into mine. Her cheek relaxed against my chest.
Instantly, my eyes felt heavy. Tomorrow I would try to think of a way to postpone her departure, but in that moment, sleeping with her in my arms was the only thing I wanted to do. — Jamie McGuire

Just like a dancer's body finds its points and an equestrian incorporates her body weight into the movement of the horse, the Christian learns how to melt her will into God's. — Rosaria Champagne Butterfield

From joy people are born; for joy they live; in joy they melt at death. Death is an ecstasy, for it removes the burden of the body and frees the soul of all pain springing from body identification. It is the cessation of pain and sorrow. — Paramahansa Yogananda

As she reached back for the buckle, her fingers met Mr. Meisner's. She jumped. "I can do this ... Sir."
"Ah." He brushed aside her fingers. "I see you've at least remembered the sir."
"One always calls gentlemen that, just as you
"
With only a rustle of cloth to warn her, his teeth met in the lobe of her ear, sending a spark into her middle. Like the melt of winter snow, she felt heat pool in her lower body. Her fingers curled against her collarbone where her hands still rested either side of her neck.
"I'm not a gentleman, Faith. — Cari Silverwood

If I ever believe in something again, and it turns out to be false, then not only will my body crumble beneath me, but so will my soul. I'll disintegrate, disappear into the wind and blow away. I'll be nothing. I'll blank out and the energy of who I was will just go away, melt into the ground and come back as something unimportant, like a dandelion or a caterpillar. I can't find it in my heart to care. — C.M. Stunich

Not only were my nerves shot, but my body was a traitor. I didn't want to melt against him. I didn't want to enjoy the feeling of his lips sliding across my skin. I didn't want to like the possessive way his fingers dug into my waist or the way his erection pressed against me. — E.M. Denning

We may not be as perfect as we used to be,' says Raffe, 'but it's all relative.'
I try to give him a dirty look, but I can't help but laugh. 'Yes, I'm laughing at you.'
Raffe pulls me closer and kisses me again. I melt into his taut body. I can't help myself. I'm not even sure I should try — Susan Ee

Mm hmmm." His gaze dropped to her lips. "I missed ye." Lordy, he could melt marzipan with that sexy Scottish burr.
With a dip of his chin, he brushed a kiss across her mouth. Hot tingles spread down her back. Eva moved closer and pressed her body flush with his toned, muscular form. If they hadn't been born so many centuries apart, she could have believed they were made for each other, fitting together perfectly as if molded from the same clay.
Closing her eyes, she drank him in, allowing her senses to take over. Hot, spicy male kissed and held her in a tender embrace with arms that could crush a man, let alone her fine bones. Yet he cradled her with incredible tenderness. — Amy Jarecki

Linda was nine then, as I was, but we were in love ... it had all the shadings and complexities of mature adult love and maybe more, because there were not yet words for it, and because it was not yet fixed to comparisons or chronologies or the ways by which adults measure such things ... I just loved her. Even then, at nine years old, I wanted to live inside her body. I wanted to melt into her bones
that kind of love. — Tim O'Brien

I am on a drug. It's called Charlie Sheen. It's not available. If you try it once, you will die. Your face will melt off and your children will weep over your exploded body. — Charlie Sheen

His heart was racing and he took slow, deep breaths. And as he inhaled, he suddenly noticed a cold,hard object near the center of his body - like a hard core of earth that remains frozen all year long. This was the source of the pain in his chest, and the difficulty breathing. He had never known, until this moment , that such a thing existed inside him. Yet it was this pain, and this sense of being choked, that he needed. It was exactly what he had to acknowledge, what he had to confront. From now on, he had to make that cold core melt, bit by bit. It might take time, but it was what he had to do. But his own body heat wasn't enough to melt that frozen soil. He needed someone else's warmth. — Haruki Murakami

At the end of the parapet, a long black coat lay neatly folded on the wall. At the other end stood my sister and her lover. Tati's arms were wound around Sorrow's neck, her body pressed close to his, as if she would melt into him. His hands were enlaced in my sister's long hair as he strained her slight form against him, white on black. Their eyes were closed; their lips clung; they were lost in each other. It was beautiful and powerful. It was impossible. — Juliet Marillier

What's Baghra's power, anyway?" I asked, the thought occurring to me for the first time. She was an amplifier like the Darkling, but he had his own power, too. "I'm not sure," he said. "I think she was a Tidemaker. No one around here is old enough to remember." He looked down at me. The cold air had put a flush in his cheeks, and the lamplight shone in his gray eyes. "Alina, if I tell you that I still believe we can find the stag, would you think I'm mad?" "Why would you care what I think?" He looked genuinely baffled. "I don't know," he said. "But I do." And then he kissed me. It happened so suddenly that I barely had time to react. One moment, I was staring into his slate-colored eyes, and the next, his lips were pressed to mine. I felt that familiar sense of surety melt through me as my body sang with sudden heat and my heart jumped into a skittery dance. Then, just as suddenly, he stepped back. He looked as surprised as I felt. "I — Leigh Bardugo

Not just my body. It's more than that. Some parts spark. Others melt. A flux of chemistry and catastrophe, the same compulsive need that keeps bringing us back together. — Leisa Rayven

If heaven existed, it surely had to be against his lips, in his kisses and his arms around me. His kisses were tender, sweet, breathtaking, and too good to be true! Time ceased to exist. Gravity was a vague idea in my mind. I couldn't let him go. I wanted more and more. I wanted his tongue and my tongue playing together, discovering and making me feel alive and happy. I wanted our lips sealed together, his arms around me, pulling me tight against his solid warm body. I wanted to melt and merge with him. They weren't normal kisses; they were mind-blowing experiences! — Anna Santos

Caxtons are mechanical birds with many wings And some are treasured for their markings - They cause the eyes to melt Or the body to shriek without pain. — Craig Raine

Afterward she lies nestled against me, her hair tickling my face. I stroke her lightly, memorizing her body. I want her to melt into me, like butter on toast. I want to absorb her and walk around for the rest of my days with her encased in my skin. — Sara Gruen

Sometimes I don't understand why my arms don't drop from my body with fatigue, why my brain doesn't melt away. I am leading an austere life, stripped of all external pleasure, and am sustained only by a kind of permanent frenzy, which sometimes makes me weep tears of impotence but never abates. I love my work with a love that is frantic and perverted, as an ascetic loves the hair shirt that scratches his belly. Sometimes, when I am empty, when words don't come, when I find I haven't written a single sentence after scribbling whole pages, I collapse on my couch and lie there dazed, bogged down in a swamp of despair, hating myself and blaming myself for this demented pride that makes me pant after a chimera. A quarter of an hour later, everything has changed; my heart is pounding with joy. — Gustave Flaubert

On a small square, wood is being cut for the city school. Cords of healthy, crisp timber are piled high and melt slowly, one log after another, under the saws and axes of workmen. Ah, timber, trustworthy, honest, true matter of reality, bright and completely decent, the embodiment of the decency and prose of life! However deep you look into its core, you cannot find anything that is not apparent on its evenly smiling surface, shining with that warm, assured glow of its fibrous pulp woven in a likeness of the human body. In each fresh section of a cut log a new face og the human body. In each fresh section of a cut log a new face appears, always smiling and golden. Oh, the strange complexion of timber, warm eithout exaltation, completely sound, fragrant, and pleasant! — Bruno Schulz

I love you: You imagine hearing the words from someone not related to you, someone not your best friend, but when someone you love, someone you dream about, actually says them, it makes your body melt and your breath get caught in your chest. — Sarah Mlynowski

Mom, mom, mom, mom! A yowl rose from my gut, my bowels, my womb, raw as a birth cry but with no hope in it, a maddening howl, a roar, the water a wailing wall shattering around me. Unsyllabled, thoughtless, the cry rose from the oldest cells in my body. I hadn't known grief could be so primal, so crude. The violence shook me. When it stopped, I fell to my knees in the shower, and the water called to the water in me; I wanted to melt, to run down the drain and under the city to the creek and then to the river thirty miles away. Mom, mom, mom, mom! — Lorna Crozier

I know. I'm sorry. I needed to see you, Emily. I know we only spent one night together, but I can't get you out of my head. I miss you like I'd miss a piece of my own body." Melt. That was so sweet. — Alice Ward

Terrifying: Jax remembered what had happened to the last Clakker to say no. They'd broken his legs, and filled his mouth with glue, and tossed him into the hellish forges of the Clockmakers' Guild. The humans had destroyed the rogue Clakker Adam, who'd been born Perjumbellagostriavantus, and made a public spectacle of it. Practically declared a citywide holiday. They had called him rogue and demon-thrall, melted his body to an alchemical slurry, and incinerated his hard-won soul until there was nothing left of it but a shiver in the spines of the human voyeurs.
Rogue. That's what they'd call Jax too, if they caught him. They'd condemn, damn, torture, and melt him. — Ian Tregillis

He's pressing me to his chest. I melt. Oh, this is where I want to be
I rest my head against him, and he kisses my hair repeatedly. This is home. He smells of linen, fabric softener, body wash, and my favourite smell - Christian. For a moment, I allow myself the illusion that all will be well, and it soothes my ravaged soul — E.L. James

I stroke her lightly, memorizing her body. I want her to melt into me, like butter on toast. I want to absorb her and walk around for the rest of my days with her encased in my skin. I lie motionless, savoring the feeling of her body against mine. I'm afraid to breathe in case I break the spell. — Sara Gruen

And then I laugh, because it's so ridiculous and so gorgeous and it's all I an do to not melt into a fit of giggles. So what if I'm ninety-three? So what if I'm ancient and cranky and my body's a wreck? If they're willing to accept me and my guilty conscience, why the hell shouldn't I run away with the circus?
It's like Charlie told the cop. For this old man, this IS home. — Sara Gruen

I take a step toward him. My arm reaches up. I don't know if I'm reaching for the pipe or for him. I want to touch his skin. I want to breathe in what he breathes. The yellow swirl. I want to be the yellow swirl. I want him to breathe me in, be sent riding on oxygen molecules deep into his lungs. I want to travel through his body, seeing what makes him happy. Attaching myself to whatever place in him sparks to life on my arrival. His blood, his tissues, his muscles, I want to burrow inside the folds like a windblown dusting of snow, so that each time I melt away he seeks me out again. — Josh Kilmer-Purcell

the intimacy of the kiss, that feeling of euphoria that comes with that kiss that is right and real, that kiss that swallows you up, starting from the curl in your toes to the fine hairs on the back of your neck, that kiss that leaves you panting for air, that makes each part of your body quiver as you melt against him, that makes you suck his bottom lip into your mouth with the overwhelming urge to bite it. Sometimes hard. That. That kind of kiss. — R.B. O'Brien

The way to freedom is through service to others. The way to happiness is through meditation and being in tune with God ... break the barriers of your ego, shed selfishness, free yourself from the consciousness of the body, forget yourself, do away with this prison house of incarnations, melt your heart in all, be one with creation. — Paramahansa Yogananda

Two weeks later General Kaledin received a deputation from his troops. 'Will you,' the asked, 'promise to divide the estates of the Cossack landlords among the working Cossacks?'

'Only over my dead body,' responded Kaledin. A month later, seeing his army melt away before his eyes, Kaledin blew out his brains. And the Cossack movement was no more... — John Reed

hardly had my knife severed the head of each, before the whole body began to melt away and crumble into its native dust, as though the death that should have come centuries ago had at last assert himself and say at once and loud, "I am here! — Bram Stoker

How do you make someone love you? For the very young, there can be nothing harder in the world. You may try as hard as you like: place yourself beside them, cook their favourite food, bring them wine or sing the love songs that you know will move them. They will not move them. Nothing will move them. You will waste days interpreting the simple banalities of a phone call; months staring at their soft lips as they talk; you will waste years watching a body sitting in a chair and willing every muscle to take you across the room and do a simple thing, say a simple word, make them love you and you will not do it; you will waste long nights wondering how they cannot feel this - the urge to embrace, the snow melt in the heart when you are near them - how they can sit in that chair, or speak with those lips, or make a call and mean nothing by it, hide nothing in their hearts. Or perhaps what they hide is not what you want to see. Because surely they love someone. It simply isn't you. — Andrew Sean Greer

Death Valley is the perfect flesh-grilling device, the Foreman Grill in Mother Nature's cupboard.

It's a big, shimmering sea of salt ringed by mountains that bottle up the heat and force it right back down on your skull. The average air temperature hovers around 125 degrees, but once the sun rises and begins broiling the desert floor, the ground beneath Scott's feet would hit a nice, toasty 200 degrees - exactly the temperature you need to slow roast a prime rib. Plus, the air is so dry that by the time you feel thirsty, you could be as good as dead; sweat is sucked so quickly from your body,you can be dangerously dehydrated before it even registers in your throat. Try to conserve water,and you could be a dead man walking.

But every July, ninety runners from around the world spend up to sixty straight hours running down the sizzling black ribbon of Highway 190, making sure to stay on the white lines so the soles of their running shoes don't melt. — Christopher McDougall

Again, there are multitudes who are quite ready for Christ to justify them, but not to sanctify. Some kind, some degree, of sanctification they will tolerate, but to be sanctified wholly,their "whole spirit and soul and body" (1 Thess. 5:23), they have no relish for. For their hearts to be sanctified, for pride and covetousness to be subdued, would be too much like the plucking out of a right eye. For the constant mortification of all their members they have no taste. For Christ to come to them as Refiner, to burn up their lusts, consume their dross, to dissolve utterly their old frame of nature, to melt their souls, so as to make them run in a new mould, they like not. To deny self utterly, and take up their cross daily, is a task from which they shrink with abhorrence. — Arthur W. Pink

I don't even know if I have bones in my body anymore. I don't know how I'm standing. I could melt under the sweet heat of his lips that are now tracing a line down my chest to the very top of my breasts, as he tugs gently at my shirt, giving himself room to leave one more brush of his lips, before he stops. — Lauren Blakely

For all the largesse of my mind's colony where a vividly enflamed man would take off each of the precious stones and melt away the cast, his success ultimately lay in being nice to me, being nice to himself irrespective of the behavior of each; of being proud of me and of himself irrespective of worldly success; holding me in regard with an almost primitive sense of courage, irrespective of the purity of my body or spirit. — Noorilhuda

He wanted also to be forgiven for all he had done; he longed for the unity of the world's creation to melt his sins and anger, because his soul was joined to it. His body shook with the passion of the love that had found him, from which he had been exiled in the blood and the flesh of long killing. — Sebastian Faulks

Whoever you are, I fear you are walking the walks of dreams,
I fear these supposed realities are to melt from under your feet and hands,
Even now your features, joys, speech, house, trade, manners, troubles, follies, costume, crimes, dissipate away from you,
Your true soul and body appear before me,
They stand forth out of affairs, out of commerce, shops, work, farms, clothes, the house, buying, selling, eating, drinking, suffering, dying."
-from "To You — Walt Whitman

Sean swung around and crossed the hall in one long stride. He pushed open the door and they moved into her bedroom, lit only by the warm glow of her bedside lamp. The next thing Evie knew, she was flat on her back on her king-size bed with a fierce-eyed warrior braced over her. "Your're not wearing any underwear, are you?"

She giggled. "There's only one way to find out for sure."

"Don't have to ask me twice." He pushed the hem of her dress up her thighs. Instant heat rushed to her sex. It was those damn hands of his, their size and power and gentleness. They made her melt just by landing on her body. — Jennifer Bernard

but I melt until I'm a handful of hot butter dripping down his body. — Tahereh Mafi

The woman had gasped beneath his heavy body. He rubbed against her, lubricated by the warm, sticky liquid, but as her body gradually grew cold, he felt as though they'd been glued together. She seemed to be see-sawing between agony and ecstasy, but finally Satake pressed his lips over hers to quiet the groans-of pain or pleasure-that were leaking from her mouth. He found the hole that he had made in her side and worked his finger deep into the opening. Blood was pumping from the wound, staining their sex a gruesome crimson. He wanted to get further inside, to melt into her. As he was about to come, he pulled his lips from her and she whispered in his ear: "I'm finished ... finished."
"I know," he'd said, and he could still hear the exact sound of his own voice. — Natsuo Kirino