Chin And Cheek Quotes & Sayings

What have we done?" Lizzie whispered.
He had no acceptable answer for that, other than that it had been stunning.
She suddenly propped her chin on his chest and looked up at him with eyes still warm with the glow of lovemaking. "I think I've lost my fool mind, aye?"
"If you have, it has gone the way of mine," he said, stroking her cheek.
"What are we to do now? Go on as if nothing has happened between us?"
"Go on," he said, aware of how incredibly alive he was feeling, how impossibly tender his heart. "But without forgetting this moment." He really had no idea what he was saying. He could not look in her blue eyes and recall them in the throes of passion and imagine walking away from them. — Julia London

He came up behind her and laid his hands on her shoulders; bending low, he put his lips close to the nape of her neck. "How about a kiss for your jailbird brother?" he said.
She turned halfway, as if to touch her lips to his cheek but he slid a palm down her back and tipped her face up to his and kissed her full on the mouth - not a brotherly kiss, there was no mistaking it for that, but a long, slow, greedy kiss, messy and voluptuous. His bathrobe fell slightly open as his left hand sank from her chin to neck, collarbone, base of throat, his fingertips just inside the edge of her thin polka-dot shirt and trembling over the warm skin there. — Donna Tartt

He was close enough so that I could see his face clearly, even with his helmet's cheek flaps tied tightly under his bearded chin. I looked into the eyes of Hector, prince of Troy. Brown eyes they were, the colour of rich farm soil, calm and deep. No anger, no battle lust. He was a cool and calculating warrior, a thinker among these hordes of wild, screaming brutes. He wore a small round shield buckled to his left arm instead of the massive body-length type most of the other nobles carried. In it was painted a flying heron, a strangely peaceful emblem in the midst of all this mayhem and gore. — Ben Bova

I bite my lip as I begin reading: She needs some sun! Her eyes are hard to see - they're too dark; her nose is thin; no cheek bones!; I think her lips are uneven; her chin is really square, and my favorite: is that a mole or a zit? Awesome. Twenty pages of these cryptic remarks sure do make a girl feel good about herself. The last page changes my sour mood completely. On it there is a sketch of my face - no, sketch is the wrong word. It's too common a word. This is more than a sketch. This is a portrait of my face. The image of the girl staring back at me is so stunning, that I actually gasp. The handwriting on the bottom of the page, which is small and elegant, holds only two words: You're perfect. — Danielle Bannister

We swayed, barely moving. I settled my cheek on Maxon's chest, he rested his chin on my head, and we spun to the music of the rain. — Kiera Cass

Jericho? You're smiling." "I am?" He stroked her cheek again. Warm tingles coursed through her, and instinctively, she followed his touch a second time. His smile widened. "I must be happy." ( ... ) "You're quite handsome when you're happy." Jericho trailed one finger under her chin. "I'll make a note of your preference. — Karen Witemeyer

What's your deal?" I asked in the hallway after class. "I know you did that."
He shrugged. "So?"
... "That was rude, Daemon. You embarrassed him." ... "And I thought using your ... stuff would draw them here?"
... "That was barley a blip on the map. That didn't even leave a trace on anyone."
He lowered his head until the edges of his dark curled brushed my cheek. I was caught between wanting to crawl into my locker or crawl into him. "Besides, I was doing you a favor."
I laughed. "And how was that doing me a favor?"
... "Studying math wasn't what he had in mind."
That was debatable, but I decided to play along ... "And what if that's the case?"
"You like Simon?" His chin jerked up, anger flashing in his emerald eyes. "You can't possibly like him."
... "Are you jealous? ... Your jealous of Simon?" I lowered my voice. "Of a human? For shame, Daemon. — Jennifer L. Armentrout

He was, and she had to swallow very hard to keep from choking, the most terribly beautiful man she had ever seen. He had a long, wicked scar that traveled from his temple down his cheek to the side of his chin and below his jaw. Somehow, though, it just didn't detract from his handsomeness, dark though that was. His face was all planes and angles, harsh even in the deepening gloom. His hair was dark and his eyes were full of cynicism. — Lynn Kurland

In fact, you should take a nap this afternoon, because there won't be much sleep tonight. I
mean to have you every way I can. I mean to intoxicate you and torment you so that you know precisely
how I feel about you." His finger trailed down her cheek and tipped up her chin.
"Don't mistake what is going to happen tonight." His voice was sinful, dark and hoarse. "You will never
forget the imprint of my skin after tonight, Esme. Waste your life chitchatting with ladies in lace caps.
Raise your child with the help of your precious Sewing Circle. But in the middle of all those lonely nights,
you will never, ever, forget the night that lies ahead of us. — Eloisa James

A warm, ragged breath disturbed the hairs on my forehead, and my blood began pricking as I realized where exactly I had retreated: right into Mr. Braddock, our strange connection humming through the hairsbreadth of distance between our bodies, our faces. I froze, forcing myself to stop shoving against him further. Before I understood anything, a rough, large hand brushed my chin, my face tipped upwards, and his mouth caught mine, and suddenly my entire body was on fire. Whatever odd sensation had thrummed between us before was just the stroke of a violin bow to this clash of an orchestra. I felt the world pass between our lips, tasting champagne, hunger, and something indefinably darker, while his hand ignited sparks down my cheek to the nape of my neck. He wrapped an arm around my waist, pulling me closer, forcing that elusive essence to run deeper than my skin, deeper than my veins, until my very bones vibrated. — Tarun Shanker

Alix bore the blow without flinching. A block of marble. Her gaze was piercing and blank, her nose nobly arched. But one cheek was flaking. A hint of strange green and pink vegetation was invading her chin. Another winter perhaps would lay her low. — Marcel Proust

I'm not worthy of that," I said. I might be human now, but I understand how powerful a heavenly creature Carter was. "I don't deserve that much regard."
He reached out and tipped my chin up. "You do, Georgina. And if you don't believe me now, then strive to be. Live you life. Be kind. Love those you know. Love those you don't know. be worthy of your soul."
A tear escaped, rolling down my cheek and probably messing up my mortal mascara. "Thank you, Carter. Thank you for everything. — Richelle Mead

Don't you see? Everything's different now. I'm different now. I'm not that dashing, immortal youth who kissed you in the garden all those years ago."
She stroked his cheek. "I'm not the giddy, moonstruck girl you kissed. I'm a woman now, with my own fears and desires. And a heart that's grown stronger than you'd credit. Strong enough to contain four years' worth of love."
He cleared his throat and studied the wood paneling. The whorls of grain twisted and churned as he blinked. "You should have saved it for someone else."
"I've never wanted anyone else." She tugged on his chin until he met her gaze. "Luke. Fight for me. — Tessa Dare

You have a mouth made for kissing," he murmured, angling her to face him. "Did you know that?"
She shook her head.
"So soft and generous." Leaning in, he tipped her chin with the heel of his hand. "Sweet."
"No man's ever called me sweet."
"Has any other man kissed you?"
Again, she gave a little shake of the head.
"Well, then. That's why." He brushed his lips over hers, just lightly, sending pure sensation frizzing through her veins. He hummed with satisfaction. "You taste of ripe plums."
She couldn't help it. She laughed. "Now that's just absurd."
"Why?"
"Because it's too early in the year for ripe plums."
His husky chuckle shook them both. "You're entirely too logical for your own good. A thorough kissing can mend that."
"I don't want mending."
"Perhaps not. But I think you do want kissing." He nuzzled the curve of her cheek, and his voice dropped to a sensual whisper. "Don't you?"
She did. Oh, she did. — Tessa Dare

Daemon came up behind me, wrapping his arms around my waist. He leaned into me, resting his chin atop my head. "Don't run off like that."
"I didn't run off. I just walked out of the garage," I said, placing my hands on his strong forearms.
His head slid down, and the stubble on his cheek tickled me. "Too far for me right now. — Jennifer L. Armentrout

My teeth have never been touched. Why did I tell you that? Knock on wood. I've got a few scars over the eyes, a couple on the chin, a few on the beak and one across the cheek. But my luck is running out. — Brett Hull

I loved him.
I couldn't pinpoint what made me so certain, but I knew it then, as surely as I knew my name or the color of the sky or any fact written in a book.
Could he feel it, too?
Maxon broke the kiss and looked at me. "You're so pretty when you are a mess."
I laughed nervously. "Thank you. For that and for the rain and for not giving up."
He ran his fingers along my cheek and nose and chin. "You're worth it. I don't think that you get that. You're worth it to me. — Kiera Cass

pet. Out came the tongue again, trailing over her cheek to her chin and then across her lips. Oh, no way. "Gross!" she exclaimed, finding her voice. "That was so uncalled for. If you're going to eat me, then just do it already. No need to torture me with slobber and bad breath." She wanted to slap herself for the outburst as soon as she uttered the last syllable. So much for staying calm in the face of death. Expecting — Eve Langlais

The only thing that's changed is the way Blake looks at me.
And it takes my breath away.
Blake's eyes glow in the firelight. But it's the flames behind his eyes that make my whole body run hot. I can feel myself blush as he brings his hands to my cheek, branding me with his touch. "Brianna Paxton." He lets his fingers rest against my skin, stroking just beneath my chin. "You are even more beautiful than I remembered. — Talia Vance

I'm sorry." [Burnett] sighed. "With all the things that have happened lately, I'm glad you're keeping your chin up."
*Chin up.* The words ran around Kylie's head. Miranda snorted another bit of laughter and faced the opposite direction. Kylie had to bite the inside of her cheek to keep from laughing. Then Della's chuckle sounded from across the room. — C.C. Hunter

Ciaran broke the silence and spoke quietly. "She means naught to me."

A tear fell down her cheek and she wiped it away. "It doesnae matter--truly," she whispered.

He reached out and gently brushed her arms. When she closed her eyes to avoid his probing gaze, he raised her chin with his finger. "It matters to me," he said solemnly. He wiped her tears with his thumb. "I told her we were done when I returned to Glenorchy. She wasnae pleased. I didnae know she was there, Rosalia. She saw ye and Aisling and threw her body upon me."

She could not help but smirk. "Her verra bare body, my laird."

He paused for a moment, a spark of some identifiable emotion in his eyes. "I didnae notice, Rosalia. All I saw was ye. — Victoria Roberts

Don't tell the others," he said. When she stepped back, he'd pulled his boyish face over his features again.
"Do you need to go?" Blue asked. She meant go for ever, but she couldn't say it out loud.
He whispered, "Not yet."
Blue wiped a tear from her face with the heel of her hand, and he wiped a tear from her other cheek with the heel of his. His chin dimpled in that way that comes before tears, but she put her fingers against it and it resolved.
They were wheeling towards the end of something, and they both knew it. — Maggie Stiefvater

Have you not a moist eye, a dry hand, a yellow cheek, a white beard, a decreasing leg, an increasing belly? Is not your voice broken, your wind short, your chin double, your wit single, and every part about you blasted with antiquity? — William Shakespeare

His thumb brushed her chin. He leaned down and hovered, his breath on her temple. Then he pressed his lips to her cheek. Her heart stuttered and her breath froze in her chest. He kissed her other cheek. She lifted her face to look up at him. He cupped her face with one hand and pulled her closer with the other. He kissed the corner of her mouth, then gazed into her eyes. She slid her hand behind his head and closed her eyes. He kissed her full on the lips. Her knees went weak, and he lifted her feet off the ground, reminding her of their embrace when he had rescued her from the tower. — Melanie Dickerson

I should have known you'd side with them. It's some sort of of male bonding thing to think women aren't capable of running their own lives."
He nuzzled the top of her head with his chin. "It's ego and sheer desperation. We have to keep you thinking we're the superior species."
"News flash, Jack - no women on the face of earth believes that anymore."
He trailed kisses down her cheek. "But men don't know women know that. We still live in our fantasy world, so don't muck it up for us. — Christine Feehan

Merrick chucked Sarah's chin and stroked her cheek. Eyes blue as violets and hair like an angel. Your mama must be mighty pretty if she's anything like you. I'd like to see her. — Francine Rivers

She had his dark hair, his lashes, and from the glimpse he had, she bore his eyes, as well. But the shape of her face, a perfect oval, was her mother's. She had Anais's cheeks. Anais's lovely mouth and proud chin. He kissed her chin, feeling the softest of fluttering against his cheek - baby's breath. There was nothing sweeter than the feel of an innocent child's breath against one's cheek - nothing more wondrous than knowing that the baby was your own flesh and blood.
Mina stretched against him, yawning widely and throwing her arms up wide alongside her head. He laughed through his tears and reached for her little fist and brought it to his mouth, kissing her with such love he thought he would die of it. "You will consume me, little Mina, just as your mother has."
-Linsay to his infant daughter. — Charlotte Featherstone

THE MOON was but a chin of gold
A night or two ago,
And now she turns her perfect face
Upon the world below.
Her forehead is of amplest blond;
Her cheek like beryl stone;
Her eye unto the summer dew
The likest I have known.
Her lips of amber never part;
But what must be the smile
Upon her friend she could bestow
Were such her silver will!
And what a privilege to be
But the remotest star!
For certainly her way might pass
Beside your twinkling door.
Her bonnet is the firmament,
The universe her shoe,
The stars the trinkets at her belt,
Her dimities of blue. — Emily Dickinson

As Tom walked away, every step more awful, Lucy pursued him, arms still outstretched. 'Dadda, wait for Lulu,' she begged, wounded and confused. When she tripped and fell face down on the gravel, letting out a scream, Tom could not go on, and spun around, breaking free of the policeman's grip.
'Lulu!'
He scooped her up and kissed her scratched chin.
'Lucy, Lucy, Lucy, Lucy,' he murmured, his lips brushing her cheek.
'You're all right, little one. You'll be all right.'
Vernon Knuckey looked at the ground and cleared his throat.
Tom said, 'Sweetheart, I have to go away now. I hope - ' He stopped. He looked into her eyes and he stroked her hair, finally kissing her.
'Goodbye, littlie. — M.L. Stedman

He suddenly leaned in, and his fingers brushed my cheek. Warmth flooded my skin, and I frozen, waiting for him to pull back.
He didnt. The tips of his fingers lingered on my cheek for a moment. Then, very slowly, his hand slipped forward, the palm brushing my skin. Frozen, I stared at him, watching his face as his fingers moved from my cheek to my forehead to my chin, like a blind man tracing someone's features to see them in his mind.
"What are you doing to me?" he whispered. — Julie Kagawa

Still, a thrill raced through her when she thought about the one thing she would have. Camille wrapped her arms around Oscar's waist and held him, breathing in his distinctive scent. It was such a small detail about him. She wanted to discover all the small details about him, and now she could.
"Don't ever die again," Camille whispered, pressing her cheek against the hard muscle of his shoulder.
"I'll give staying alive my best shot. On one condition." He lifted her chin up to look him in the eye. "Choose me."
Choice. She'd always had it, but strangely a life without the soft padding of money and reputation made her feel as though she had more freedom than ever. She could do whatever she wanted to do, be whoever she wanted to be. And the only person she wanted to find her way with was Oscar.
"I already have," she whispered, running her hands up his arms and over his broad shoulders. — Angie Frazier

His tender tone turned her heart over. She obliged, tilting her head back slightly and looking up at him in the firelit darkness. When he bent his head and his mouth met hers, she gave a little sigh, her lips parting slightly in surprise and expectation. He kissed her with the same sure decisiveness with which he did everything else, his mouth trailing to her cheek and chin and ear, returning again and again to her mouth and lingering there, his breath mingling with her own.
She felt adrift in small, sharp bursts of pleasure. Was this how a man was suppose to kiss a woman? Tenderly ... firmly ... repeatedly? His fingers fanned through her hair till the pins gave way and wayward locks spilled like black ribbon to the small of her back. In answer, her arms circled his neck, bringing him nearer, every kiss sweeter and surer than the one before. Soon they were lost in a haze of sighs and murmurs and caresses. — Laura Frantz

We can take my van," I offered.
"Thank you," said Adam, "but you are staying here."
I raised my chin, and he patted my cheek - the patronizing bastard. He laughed at my expression, not like he was making fun of me, but like he was really enjoying something ... me.
"You are not expendable, Mercedes - and you are not up to facing a pack war." By the time he'd finished speaking the smile had left his face, and he was watching the people in the room.
"Listen, buddy," I said. "I killed two werewolves - that makes my kill sheet as high as yours this week - and I didn't do so badly getting that address from the vampires, either."
"You got the address from the vampires?" said Adam, in a dangerously soft voice. — Patricia Briggs

she must, Anna thought, need to sleep with some kind of pads over them to keep her eyeballs moist. Whatever nose had once sat in the middle of her face had melted into a small, pug-like muzzle, while oversized cheek implants added an almost whimsical touch of chipmunk. Lips too lush for even a twenty-year-old were the finishing touch, ballooning out from her face, turning up at the ends, and making a normal chin look weak and recessive atop a tight, corded neck. The Joker, Anna thought. The thick curls of a platinum wig tumbled about this hodgepodge of readjusted features, undoubtedly hiding a hairline a good five — Suzanne Munshower

She looked for any sign of the boy who'd taught her to whistle a hornpipe, who could palm an ace of hearts and make it reappear from her sleeve, but failed to find even a glimmer of him. Instead she saw Ida taking on a second life in the features of her only son, and for a quick heartbeat Jo was almost grateful for the scar tissue dimpled across her cheek, forehead, and chin. No one would ever be able to invade her face, she realized. She would always simply be herself, whether she liked it or not. — Tiffany Baker

I want him back, Henry. I want us to be a family."
"We are a family." He kissed my forehead, my cheek, and finally brushed his lips against mine. "We cannot pretend it has been easy, but we love each other unconditionally, and that is what matters. We will get him back. I swear it."
My chin trembled. "How?"
"I do not know yet, but I will find a way. We will find a way together."
I kissed him back, not caring if he could taste my tears. — Aimee Carter

What I can't do," Aadon said after a minute, as he traced his fingers down those pale, marked arms, "is ever let you go." He lifted Jesse's chin and looked into his soul-stealing brown eyes. "I am too far into you to ever get out. I'll have to move in with you, because I already need to breathe you like air."

Jesse touched just the tips of his fingers to Aadon's cheek, awed by the continued acceptance. "I cannot believe I ever thought you were too tongue-tied to be a lawyer. — Jaime Samms

I do. My time is done. Jaqen passed a hand down his face from forehead to chin, and where it went he changed. His cheeks grew fuller, his eyes closer; his nose hooked, a scar appeared on his right cheek where no scar had been before. And when he shook his head, his long straight hair, half red and half white, dissolved away to reveal a cap of tight black curls. — George R R Martin

Once the kiss finally broke he dropped his head to Ty's shoulder, turning his face into Ty's neck, and he clutched him tightly, unwilling to let go. Not just yet. Not until the lonely ache that had been building the past four months faded.
Ty gave a little whuff of surprise when Zane clung to him, but he slowly slid his arms around him and hugged him, resting his chin against Zane's cheek. "You okay?" he asked in a whisper.
Zane slowly nodded, waiting a few heartbeats before admitting, "I am now. — Abigail Roux

The cold within him froze his old features, nipped his pointed nose, shrivelled his cheek, stiffened his gait; made his eyes red, his thin lips blue; and spoke out shrewdly in his grating voice. A frosty rime was on his head, and on his eyebrows, and his wiry chin. He carried his own low temperature always about with him; he iced his office in the dog-days; and didn't thaw it one degree at Christmas. — Charles Dickens

I first tasted under Apollo's lips,
love and love sweetness,
I, Evadne;
my hair is made of crisp violets
or hyacinth which the wind combs back
across some rock shelf;
I, Evadne,
was made of the god of light.
His hair was crisp to my mouth,
as the flower of the crocus,
across my cheek,
cool as the silver-cress
on Erotos bank;
between my chin and throat,
his mouth slipped over and over.
Still between my arm and shoulder,
I feel the brush of his hair,
and my hands keep the gold they took,
as they wandered over and over,
that great arm-full of yellow flowers. — H.D.

You're breaking my heart."
At the sound of Rider's voice, I wheeled around, clutching my bag to my side. First thing I noticed was the faded Ravens emblem stretched over his broad chest, and then I forced my eyes up. The slight scruff along his jaw was gone. Nothing but smooth skin today.
No notebook. Hands shoved into the pockets of his jeans, a familiar, crooked grin pulled at Rider's lips, causing the dimple in his right cheek to pop. He stepped forward, and my heart did a backflip as he dipped his chin. I felt his warm breath on the side of my cheek as he spoke.
"You didn't respond to my text last night," he said, and there was a light, teasing tone I didn't remember from before. "I thought maybe you didn't realize it was me, but that would mean someone else would be texting you good-night and calling you Mouse. I'm not sure how I feel about that. — Jennifer L. Armentrout

Ripping her thoughts from the scalding memory, Lillian glanced away from him. Immediately she felt his lean fingers come up to her hot cheek, guiding her face back to his. The tip of his thumb slid over her chin. "I wanted you today," he said softly.
Her heart escalated into a rapid thump, and the cheek beneath his caressing fingertips tautened with a smile. "You didn't so much as glance in my direction even once during supper."
"I was afraid to."
"Why?"
"Because I knew that if I did, I wouldn't be able to keep from making you into my next course."
-Marcus & Lillian — Lisa Kleypas

Before I can even ask what he means, he skims his licorice-scented lips across my forehead - just shy of touching - his warm breath dragging across my left eye patch, then down a cheek, toward my mouth. The corner of my mouth tickles as he passes over it; then his breath stops to hover across my chin.
His palms rest against the wall on either side of my head. He lets the web serve as his hands, his breath serve as his lips, holding me immobile and kissing me without ever touching me. — A.G. Howard

His lips formed a cruel smile as he leaned forward to whisper into her ear. "I could have let you die up there. In fact, I'm not altogether of one mind why I didn't ... Oh, that's right. You have something I want." He took his free hand and gently stroked the side of her cheek, running his fingers over her lips. The move sent an unwilling shiver through her until his fingers moved under her chin. "I want that dagger. — Chanda Hahn

Age overtakes us all; Our temples first; then on o'er cheek and chin, Slowly and surely, creep the frosts of Time. Up and do somewhat, ere thy limbs are sere. — Theocritus

He reached his thumb out and wiped tears from my cheek. "Em, can we please go back to the way things were?"

"Yes . . . definitely."

He pulled me into his chest. "I mean, Hunter Stevens? Really? That guy's such a slimeball."

I wiped my tears and laughed into his shirt. "Come on, Desiree Banks? She's a slut and everyone knows it . . . and those boobs, my god."

"For the record, I'm not really a boob guy. Well, I mean . . ."

"I get it, dork! I can't believe she was your first kiss."

He pushed my shoulders back to look at me. "Desiree wasn't my first kiss."

"She wasn't?"

"No. I kissed Katy Brown in the seventh grade. We made out in the reading room in the back of the library." He scratched his chin. "And then there was Chastity Williams, and then Lizzy Peters, and . . ."

"Okay, okay, geez, I guess Desiree's not the slut here. — Renee Carlino

I put my fingers under Emily's chin, tilting her head up. "I love you."
Emily's dark eyes widen and if this moment wasn't so dire, I'd laugh at her expression. swipe a finger across her smooth cheek. "I've never said that to anyone and I don't plan on it being the last time, either. I love you, Emily, and I'm telling you we'll work ths out. — Katie McGarry

A fire burned in her chest. A fire that both terrified her and compelled her to lean into him and take everything he would give her. She trembled with the force of these strange emotions.
"Shona." He lifted his hand to gently tilt her chin up and caress her cheek. His breath teased her lips and his nose touched hers briefly.
"Aye," she responded.
His masculine scent and that of spices from the mulled wine stole her thoughts. When his lips touched hers like a light brush of silk, she was ensnared and her breath remained trapped in her chest. Some instinct within her surged to the surface and she pressed her lips firmly against his. — Vonda Sinclair