Curling Up Quotes & Sayings

You've ruined me," she repeats, her voice quieting a little as it catches. "You've ruined me - you made me wake up. And now I can't get rid of you." Her voice surges again as I reach out, curling my hand around her arm, her skin flushed hot under my fingers. "You won't leave me alone. — Amie Kaufman

Hair is an issue for most women, and after washing, blow-drying, flat-ironing, curling, braiding, twisting and spending the time and money on it, who wants to mess it up by sweating and having to do it all over again? — Nicole Ari Parker

Stupor, insanity, and curling up with a good book." Bright finished his coffee and slipped out of bed. "And I was wondering last night how I would fill my time today. Let me get dressed and have a spot of breakfast first. — Lita Burke

The breath of wind that moved them was still chilly on this day in May; the flowers gently resisted, curling up with a kind of trembling grace and turning their pale stamens towards the ground. The sun shone through them, revealing a pattern of interlacing, delicate blue veins, visible through the opaque petals; this added something alive to the flower's fragility, to it's ethereal quality, something almost human ,in the way that human can mean frailty and endurance both at the same time. The wind could ruffle these ravishing creations but it couldn't destroy them, or even crush them; they swayed there, dreamily; they seemed ready to fall but held fast to their slim strong branches- ... — Irene Nemirovsky

Amazingly, Jackal staggered to his feet, holding his stomach with one hand, the stake still clenched in the other. "You're a freaking insane 'person', you know that?" he snarled at Sarren, who calmly picked up a pipe and advanced on him. "So the whole time you were sitting on that research, you decided, 'hey, instead of curing Rabidism, I'm just going to make a superplague and wipe everything out! That'll show them!'" He sneered, curling his lips back in a painful grimance. "But you'll have to pardon me for not jumping on your little DESTROY THE WORLD train. I happen to like this world, thanks. — Julie Kagawa

I leapt up behind Bella, Peta right behind me. She put herself between Bella and me, curling up in the puff of Bella's voluminous skirts. No — Shannon Mayer

My Dad was such an incredible person, and you have the option of just curling up in a dark corner and letting it all go or you have the option of standing strong, sticking together and carrying on what he lived and died for. And I think that's what's so important - to be able to carry on where he left off. — Bindi Irwin

I tell you, one more insult and I'll take his curling tongs and ram them so far up his arse he'll be able to curl the damned thing from the inside. — David Gemmell

A scratch at the door interrupted us. Colin dropped and rolled under the bed again. One of the maids poked her head in. "Miss?"
I tried not to look as if I was hiding a handsome young lad under the mattress.
"Yes?"
"Lord Jasper sent me up to see if you need help getting ready for a ball." She smiled proudly. "I have a fair hand with a curling iron."
"Oh.Thank you." I needed to get Colin out before I ended up naked in the middle of my bedroom. "I,um, could I get some hot water? To wash my face?"
"Certainly,miss. I'll have the footmen bring up the bathtub, if you like, before all the fine ladies start calling for their own baths."
"That would be great, thanks." I'd never actually been in a full reclining tub before. We had a battered hip bath in the kitchen.
The maid curtsied and closed the door behind her. I let out a breath. Colin crawled back out. "They need to sweep under there," he said, sneezing. — Alyxandra Harvey

It's wonderful when a kiss lives up to its promise. When hands fist on fabric, push off jackets, tug at and run through hair, grabbing and pulling and wanting to make the closeness that much closer. Everything all together, trying to spare a moment for breathing deep a lover's scent, surrendering that moment on the half-second to tasting his mouth, focusing on this and then on that, never stopping, never stilling. Pressing and curling your tongues together, knowing the calm will descend but never wanting that to happen. — Vee Hoffman

The joyous clamor in my mind drowned out the strange sound outside the car: a humming noise that was gathering speed and growing louder, a roar that was not the waves curling up the beach. — Padma Venkatraman

I could tell that the wolf thought he had it in the bag, a savage smile curling up the edges of his mouth, when all of a sudden the tree next to ours swung one of its branches over and whacked the ever-loving shit out of that wolf, right on its stupid wolf head. — Elle Casey

Teddy wandered amongst the graves. Most of the people in them had died long before his time. Ursula was picking up conkers from the stand of magnificent horse chestnuts at the far end of the churchyard. They were enormous trees and Teddy wondered if their roots had intertwined with the bones of the dead, imagined them curling a path through ribcages and braceleting ankles and fettering wrists. When — Kate Atkinson

Don't write your books for people who won't like them. Give yourself wholly to the kind of book you want to write and don't try to please readers who like something different. Otherwise, you'll end up with the worst of both worlds. I write lyrical, introspective, experiential books concerned with consciousness and perception. If a reader wants to know what my protagonist's insurance policies are, he'll be better off curling up with a nice cup of chamomile tea and an actuarial table. Similarly, don't write your books for bad readers. Your books will suffer from bad readers no matter what, so write them for brilliant, big-brained and big-hearted people who will love you for feeding their minds with feasts of beauty. — Paul Harding

The door opened a crack, and then Lassiter, in his game gear, stepped inside the room. As he held something out, Mary couldn't see what it was - Wait a minute, was that a Snickers bar? "What are you doing?" she blurted as he cautiously approached. The beast snapped to attention, its jowls curling up in a snarl at the angel. But Lassiter was undaunted - so not a shocker. "Here," he said. "Have a Snickers. You're not yourself when you're hangry." There was a heartbeat of a pause. And then she couldn't help it. She had to start laughing. "Really. Really? — J.R. Ward

I dreamed of setting it up out here in front of where I am sitting now, on the tripod that I would have ordered too, and starting, taking my time, to focus on a curling line of water, a piece of the world indifferent to the fact that there is language, that there are names to describe things, and grammar and verbs. My eye, solitary, filled with its own history, is desperate to evade, erase, forget; it is watching now, watching fiercely, like a scientist looking for a cure, deciding for some days to forget about words, to know at last that the words for colours, the blue-grey-green of the sea, the whiteness of the waves, will not work against thefullness of watching the rich chaos they yield and carry. — Colm Toibin

Even in the depths of sleep, in which he had to satisfy his need for protection and love by curling himself up into a trembling ball, he could not rid himself of the feeling of loneliness and homelessness. — Bruno Schulz

By the time we had passed St Clement Dane's, the pavements had grown less crowded, and as we drew by the Temple, thick woolly clouds of vapour were curling up from the steep lanes leading down to the river on our right and were beginning to suffuse the light from the gas-lamps and to deepen the gloom of the quieter streets of that quarter. Past St Paul's, on through the sepulchral City and up beyond Bishopsgate, the breeze had dropped and the haze grew thicker and heavier. By the time we had arrived at our rendezvous with Lestrade in a warren of dismal backstreets in Spitalfields, we were mired in the drab wraiths of a summer fog. — Seamus Duffy

That you are young," the cat said. "And less wise than one who is old. I am wiser than you, and I say you should go. It is obvious. You should trust a wiser head than your own." "You aren't any older than I am," she countered. "I am cat," Rowl said smugly, "which means I have made better use of my time." "Oh, you're impossible," Bridget said. "Yes. Cat." Rowl rose and flowed down onto the floor. He turned to face her, curling his tail around his paws. "Why do you wish to dishonor and humiliate Wordkeeper? Would you change his name?" "No, of course not," Bridget said. "But I'm just . . . I'm not like him." "No," Rowl said. "That is what growing up is for." "I am not a child," she said. The cat looked around speculatively and then turned back to her. "Rather than do your duty, you are hiding in the darkest corner of the darkest room in your home. This is very wise. Very mature. — Jim Butcher

Once upon a time I would've leaped at the rare opportunity of curling up with Mom on
the couch. But now it sort of felt like too little too late. I had someone else waiting for
me. — Maggie Stiefvater

The fabric of Lady Islay's gown certainly cost as much as Claribel's entire quarterly allowance. It was a pearly silk taffeta shot with threads of silver. Her breasts were scarcely covered, and from there the gown fell straight to the ground in a hauntingly beautiful sweep of cloth.
The pink brought out the color of her hair- burnt amber enticed with brandy and buttercup. If only she had left it free around her face and perhaps created some charming curls! Claribel made up her mind to tell her privately about the newest curling irons. She herself had lovely corkscrew curls bobbing next to her ears. — Eloisa James

So long as you don't go falling in love with me." I don't know why I say it. Call it battlements around my helpless heart. Percy looks away from me fast, shoulders curling up. It almost looks like a flinch. But then he says, "I'll try my best." He — Mackenzi Lee

I ordered another rum St. James and I watched the girl whenever I looked up, or when I sharpened the pencil with a pencil sharpener with the shavings curling into the saucer under my drink. — Ernest Hemingway,

She's my friend, the boy said simply. That's who she is and that's enough for me. As Minli looked at the buffalo boy, aglow with happiness against his poor surroundings, she saw it was enough for him. More than enough, as the smile that kept curling up on his face told her. — Grace Lin

Harry's blood quickened as lurid images filled his mind ... her against him, beneath him. That smiling mouth, his alone, her whispers curling into his ear. Her skin, soft and ivory pale in the darkness. Skin heated by skin, sensation emerging as he touched her.
She was worth anything, he thought, even giving up the last remnants of his soul. — Lisa Kleypas

But is life a success when it doesn't include time for after-school talks, and curling up to read books on winter nights, and weaving daisy chains in the summer? Is it a success when you have all the big things but none of the small ones? Is it as it should be when everybody grows up and moves to opposite coasts and doesn't care if they ever see each other? — Lisa Wingate

I do not deny that he was eccentric; the mania he had for keeping that cat and teasing her until she flew at his face like a demon, was certainly eccentric. I never could understand why he kept the creature, nor what pleasure he found in shutting himself up in his room with this surly, vicious beast. I remember once, glancing up from the manuscript I was studying by the light of some tallow dips, and seeing Mr. Wilde squatting motionless on his high chair, his eyes fairly blazing with excitement, while the cat, which had risen from her place before the stove, came creeping across the floor right at him. Before I could move she flattened her belly to the ground, crouched, trembled, and sprang into his face. Howling and foaming they rolled over and over on the floor, scratching and clawing, until the cat screamed and fled under the cabinet, and Mr. Wilde turned over on his back, his limbs contracting and curling up like the legs of a dying spider. He was eccentric. — Robert W. Chambers

It was a Wednesday, but it was a holiday, and Hattie was spending her day off from the local library (bookish by curling up on her favorite understuffed sofa with her newest purchase - a dime-store romance novel featuring bare-chested, oiled down pirates ("bookish" need not always be confused with literary") - and one of her two cats, the calico one named Mimsy. — Clayton Smith

Magic. It was worse than feline logic. Leave it to magic to re-fracture and re-herniate his vertebrae in the middle of a battle. A powerful sigh forced itself through the controlled exhale of his Ki breathing, decimating the thin slow line of smoke curling up from the incense. It reformed itself a moment later, right before Bruce's eyes, and he glared at it with Batman's most malevolent stare. What a metaphor. A few seconds' disruption and all was set right again. That was magic's attitude. No harm done. As if it was as simple as a few seconds' paralysis. — Chris Dee

Oh, what had she done?"
He'd startled her; that was the problem. It was all his fault he was lying on the ground, looking rather cherub like, his blond hair curling about his ears, his bright blue eyes closed now, his masculine lips parted slightly as he slept the sleep of the dead.

She studied his masculine lips. And thought just how much havoc she could wreak if she kissed him. Served him right for startling her so.
Without analyzing whether she should do it, and just because she could, she pressed her mouth against his and gently kissed his lips, meaning only to give a quick peck and that was it....
His lips curved up under hers and for a second, she thought he was awake, smiling at her kissing him....
Her thoughts reverted to the kiss and immediately the human faery tale Sleeping Beauty and the prince giving the princess a kiss to wake her sprang to mind. Why ever did humans make up such nonsense anyway? — Terry Spear

What makes me happy is just curling up in with my mom in her bed and watching a marathon of 'CSI' and 'Grey's Anatomy' episodes with pints of ice cream. — Taylor Swift

We broke into laughter - the kind that's your only recourse when you feel like curling up in a fetal position and whimpering like a little girl. — M.A. George

What are you thinking?
She smiled.
I think you can figure it out. You can read the writing on the wall.
And as she said it, there was writing on the wall. It appeared slowly, one word at a time.

You're
not
the
only
one
falling.

It wrote itself out, in the same curling black script as the rest of the room. Lena's cheeks flushed a little, and she covered her face with her hands. "It's going to be really embarrassing if everything I think starts showing up on the walls."
"You didn't mean to do that?"
"No."
You don't need to be embarrassed, L.
I pulled her hands away.
Because I feel the same way about you. — Kami Garcia

Things were pretty cold-blooded back in Rockdale.
That's when my arms were so pretty I could hold them up to the light and see the veins curling all clean and smooth like little blue branches. — Adam Rapp

I was also one of those people who hadn't caught up with the latest social networking site. Maura belonged to most of them. She passed most evenings befriending men who had tried to date-rape her in high school, but I was still stuck in the last virtual community, a sad place to be, like Europe, say, during the Black Death. Whenever I cruised this site, with its favorites lists and its paeans to somebody's cousin's gas station art gallery, I could not help but think of medieval corpses in the spring-thaw mud, buboes sprouted in every armpit and anus, black bile curling out of frozen mouths. Those of us still cursed with life wandered the blasted dales of this stricken network, wept and moaned and flogged ourselves with frayed AC adaptors, called out for God to strike us dead, or else let us find somebody who liked similar bands. — Sam Lipsyte

Is writing the gift of curling up, of curling up with reality? One would so love to curl up, of course, but what happens to me then? What happens to those, who don't really know reality at all? It's so very dishevelled. No comb, that could smooth it down. The writers run through it and despairingly gather together their hair into a style, which promptly haunts them at night. Something's wrong with the way one looks. The beautifully piled up hair can be chased out of its home of dreams again, but can anyway no longer be tamed. Or hangs limp once more, a veil before a face, no sooner than it could finally be subdued. Or stands involuntarily on end in horror at what is constantly happening. It simply won't be tidied up. It doesn't want to. — Elfriede Jelinek

Nigel hit his button again. "I need security." "No, you don't," Taggart said, his mouth curling up in a deeply gruesome approximation of a grin. "You just need to give me five minutes with him." "Ian, you promised you would stop killing people. I'm tired of getting blood out of your clothes. — Lexi Blake

Up on the roof Tatiana thought about the evening minute, the minute she used to walk out the factory doors, turn her head to the left even before her body turned, and look for his face. The evening minute as she hurried down the street, her happiness curling her mouth upward to the white sky, the red wings speeding her to him, to look up at him and smile. — Paullina Simons

Does killing become easier, as natural as a reflex?" she pressed. "Not to me, I've set out to intentionally take only one man's life." He flattened his back against the cool stones, bending his knee and placing the bottom of his boot on the post near his other knee. He remained impassive as he chewed on a blade of sweetgrass. "Who? Why?" she asked when he didn't expound. "Perhaps I'll tell you one day, if you hang around." He glanced at her, a half-grin curling up one side of his inviting mouth.

-Calinda & Lynx — Janelle Taylor

Cheese for dessert is rather like Paradise Lost in that everyone thinks he ought to like it, but still you don't notice too many people actually curling up with it. — Peg Bracken

What release to write so that one forgets oneself, forgets one's companion, forgets where one is or what one is going to do next to be drenched in sleep or in the sea. Pencils and pads and curling blue sheets alive with letters heap up on the desk. — Anne Morrow Lindbergh

Patch reached for my hand and pushed my dad's ring off the tip of his finger and into my palm, curling my fingers around it. He kissed my knuckles. "I was going to give this back earlier, but it wasn't finished."
I opened my palm and held the ring up. The same heart was engraved on the underside, but now there were two names carved on either side of it: NORA and JEV.
I looked up. "Jev? That's your real name?"
"Nobody's called me that in a long time. — Becca Fitzpatrick

A small fireball hit him in the face. He again looked at his sister, smoke still curling out from her human nostrils. "What brat?"
"I said she'll want to return to her men as soon as she can."
"I know."
His sister smiled up at him. "And will you be ready for that, idiot?"
"It's Lord Idiot to you." Fearghus rested his head on his crossed forearms. "And yes, brat. I will be. — G.A. Aiken

You make me feel so safe. She brought her knees up and tucked her head beneath his chin, curling up like a kitten on his chest. If he died now, he would die happy. His chest expanded and his whole body felt alive with pleasant sensations. He could be content to stay here, without moving, forever. — Melanie Dickerson

It was easier with Mother
always had been
less complicated, less treacherous. I didn't have to be on my guard so much. I didn't have to watch what I said all the time for fear of inflicting a wound. Being alone with her on those weekend getaways was like curling up into a soft cloud, and, for a couple of days, everything that had ever troubled me fell away, inconsequentially, a thousand miles below. — Khaled Hosseini

In stressful situations, people often talk about a fight-or-flight response. Which, in my opinion, doesn't give enough credit to the more common reaction of curling up into a little ball. [ ... ] For once, I made the decision to play it cool. Or stupid. Whichever came first.
-"Le Paris!" in How Did You Get This Number, by Sloane Crosley (2010), P. 219-220 — Sloane Crosley

She didn't need to know how messed up in the head he was. How utterly pathetic he was. It had been months, for fuck's sake. He wasn't supposed to still feel like curling up into a ball, closing his eyes and hoping it was all just a bad dream and Jared wasn't out of his life forever.
Forever.
His throat closed up and Gabriel started walking faster. He wanted fresh air. He hated hospitals. Hated that every tall, dark-haired man in a white coat made his breath hitch. It was fucking stupid. Jared rarely wore white coats; he favored scrubs. But maybe Jared wore them now. It wasn't like he would know. — Alessandra Hazard

I sit on the bed and kick off my shoes, and he kneels before me and takes the riding boots, holding one open for my bare foot. I hesitate; it is such an intimate gesture between a young woman and a man. His smiling upward glance tells me that he understands my hesitation but is ignoring it. I point my toe and he holds the boot, I slide my foot in and he pulls the boot over my calf. He takes the soft leather ties and fastens the boot, at my ankle, then at my calf, and then just below my knee. He looks up at me, his hand gently on my toe. I can feel the warmth of his hand through the soft leather. I imagine my toes curling in pleasure at his touch.

'Anne, will you marry me?' he asks simply, as he kneels before me. — Philippa Gregory

I love wearing my hair curly, but turning the curling iron all the way up creates curls that look really made up and artificial. — Camila Alves

For my eyes, my day-to-day just involves curling my lashes to open up my eyes and applying our mascara, The Quickie. If I'm getting my makeup done, I like to get individual lash extensions or a strip of false lashes, depending on how glam I want to get. — Kourtney Kardashian

Usually it was Gamelyn who babbled, too quick with words and uneasy of silence. But now and here they had switched places, and Rob, unable to contain the spew of words, finally, finally understood what it was that made Gamelyn sometimes just not shut up. It was curling in the pit of his gut right now, a warning as chill as the set of Gamelyn's shoulders. — J. Tullos Hennig

Distance, looking out of the window. "You are in love?" I ask. "You must know it," he says in a whisper. I hardly dare think. He must mean me; he must be about to declare his love for me. But I swear if he is talking about someone else I shall just die. I can't bear him to want someone else. But I keep my voice light. "Why should I know it?" "You must know who I love," he says. "You, of all people in the world." This conversation is so delicious I can feel my toes curling up inside my new slippers. I feel hot; I am certain I am blushing and he will be able to see. "Must I?" "The king will see you now," announces the idiot Dr. Butt, and I jump and start away from Thomas Culpepper, for I had utterly forgotten that I was there to see the king and to make — Philippa Gregory

Alec surprised Magnus and the werewolf both by breaking away and lunging at Marcy. Whatever he had been planning, it didn't work: this time the werewolf's swipe caught him full in the chest. Alec went flying into a hot pink wall decorated with gold glitter. He hit a mirror set into the wall and decorated with curling gold fretwork with enough force to crack the glass across.
"Oh, stupid Shadowhunters," Magnus moaned under his breath. But Alec used his own body hitting the wall as leverage, rebounding off the wall and up, catching a sparkling chandelier and swinging, then dropping down as lightly as a leaping cat and crouching to attack again in one smooth movement. "Stupid, sexy Shadowhunters. — Cassandra Clare

I've seen ye so many times," he said, his voice whispering warm in my ear. "You've come to me so often. When I dreamed sometimes.When I lay in fever. When I was so afraid and so lonely I knew I must die. When I needed you, I would always see ye, smiling, with your hair curling up about your face. But ye never spoke. And ye never touched me."
"I can touch you now." I reached up and drew my hand gently down his temple, his ear, the cheek and jaw that I could see. My hand went to the nape of his neck, under the clubbed bronze hair, and he raised his head at last, and cupped his face between my hands, love glowing strong in the dark blue eyes.
"Dinna be afraid," he said softly, "There's the two of us now. — Diana Gabaldon

No, he mustn't think about it, or indeed about anything, and especially not about heroin, because heroin was the one thing that really worked, the only thing that stopped him scampering around in a hamster's wheel of unanswerable questions. Heroin was the cavalry. Heroin was the missing chair leg, made with such precision that it matched every splinter of the break. Heroin landed purring at the base of his skull, and wrapped itself darkly around his nervous system, like a black cat curling up on its favourite cushion. It was as soft and rich as the throat of a wood pigeon, or the splash of sealing wax onto a page, or a handful of gems slipping from palm to palm. — Edward St. Aubyn

But aside from those curling green tendrils, the gown was the bright pink of ... of ... of ... All comparisons failed Oliver. It wasn't the bright pink of anything. It was a furious shade of pink, one that nature had never intended. It was a pink that did violence to the notion of demure pastels. It didn't just shout for attention; it walked up and clubbed one over the head. It hurt his head, that pink, and yet he couldn't look away. The room was small enough that he could hear the first words of greeting. "Miss Fairfield," a woman said. "Your gown is ... very pink. And pink is ... such a lovely color, isn't it?" That last was said with a wistful quality in the speaker's voice, as if she were mourning the memory of true pink. — Courtney Milan

He's not your son," said Sirius quietly.
"He's as good as," said Mrs Weasley fiercely. "Who else has he got?"
"He's got me!"
"Yes," said Mrs Weasley, her lip curling, "the thing is, it's been rather difficult for you to look after him while you've been locked up in Azkaban, hasn't it?"
Sirius started to rise from his chair.
"Molly, you're not the only person at this table who cares about Harry," said Lupin sharply. — J.K. Rowling

Falling apart is curling up into a fetal position and staying in bed for a week. What you were doing is having the emotional response an individual has to the loss of someone they love. We cry to give voice to our pain. — Anna Quindlen

See yonder thin column of smoke curling up through the woods from some invisible farmhouse, the standard raised over some rural homestead ... It is a hieroglyphic of man's life, and suggests more intimate and important things than the boiling of a pot. Where its fine column rises above the forest, like an ensign, some human life has planted itself,
and such is the beginning of Rome, the establishment of the arts, and the foundation of empires, whether on the prairies of America or the steppes of Asia. — Henry David Thoreau

And of course there was Seamus, who could now come to work with me on most days. He had a bed and toys in one corner near my desk, although he preferred curling up in the guest chairs directly across from me, as though he had an appointment and urgent matters to howl about. (More fookin' food! Seriously, people. I need more foooooooooooood!!) — Teresa Rhyne

I learned that one person hurting another really is like a hand curling into a fist to smash the foot. And that all that really matters is family and other people. And that the purpose of life is to find the Light of God, but not the light from some old guy with a beard sitting up there judging us. The light is the love we give each other on our way back home. And that God wouldn't mind if we spent a little less time telling him how great he is and a little more time loving each other, and not just the people we're supposed to love, but everyone. — Paul H. Magid

[Trip] "You're a pain in the ass. A wordy pain in the ass."
"Here are two more words for you. Interfering jerk."
"Stubborn idiot."
"Government patsy."
"Bookworm," Trip shot back, and then he had her up against her car, his mouth on hers, his hands on her body, taking as much of her as he could get. She came right back at him, curling her hands into his shirt, trying to drag him closer, which was impossible since the only thing between them was a couple of thin layers of clothing and enough heat to cause spontaneous combustion. — Penny McCall

Connor swooped her into his arms. "Damn it, girl." He kissed her, curling his body around hers. "What kind of crazy stunt was that? Don't ever try to save me again."
"You were about to sacrifice yourself to protect me." She smiled up at him. "There was no way I was going to let you get out of our relationship that easily. — Andrea Cremer

There it is, darlin',"He said softly, his lips curling slowly in a sexy grin. "Nothin'like seein' a pretty girl gettin' all fired up. — Madeline Sheehan

That Chippendale is a coffee table, Lieutenant, not a footstool."
"How do you walk with that stick up your ass?" She left her feet where they were, propped comfortably on the table. "Does it hurt, or does it give you a nice little rush?"
"Your dinner guests," he said, curling his lip, "have arrived."
"Thank you, Summerset." Roarke got to his feet. "We'll have the hors d'oeuvres in here." He held out a hand to Eve.
She waited, deliberately, until Summerset had stepped out again before swinging her feet to the floor.
"In the interest of good fellowship," Roarke began as they started toward the foyer, "could you not mention the stick in Summerset's ass for the rest of the evening?"
"Okay. If he rags on me I'll just pull it out and beat him over the head with it."
"That should be entertaining. — J.D. Robb

I really love New York, but I have to say, the humidity during the summer is a nightmare for a cartoonist. Not only am I sweating in my studio, my bristol board is curling up, the drafting tape is peeling off the board, my Rapidograph pens bleed the minute I put them to paper ... it's a disaster. — Adrian Tomine

The moment Aunt March took her nap, or was busy with company, Jo hurried to this quiet place, and curling herself up in the easy chair, devoured poetry, romance, history, travels, and pictures like a regular bookworm. — Louisa May Alcott

Junior, stop being orner." It's what Mama used to say to us when we were little, and I say it to Junior out of habit. Daddy used to say it sometimes, too, until he said it to Randall one day and Randall started giggling, and then Daddy figured out Randall was laughing because it sounded like 'horny'. About a year ago I figured out what it was supposed to be after coming across its parent on the vocabulary list for my English class with Miss Dedeaux: 'ornery'. It made me wonder if there were other words Mama mashed like that. They used to pop up in my head sometime when I was doing the stupidest things: 'tetrified' when I was sweeping the kitchen and Daddy came in dripping beer and kicking chairs. 'Belove' when Manny was curling pleasure from me with his fingers in mid-swim in the pit. 'Freegid' when I was laying in bed in November, curled to the wall like I was going to burrow into another cover or I was making room for a body to lay behind me to make me warm. — Jesmyn Ward

There are rumors that your Lantsov prince has been sighted."

I drifted nearer, trying to keep my voice casual. "Where?"

He glanced up, his lips curling in a slight smile. "Do you like him?"

"Does it matter?"

"It's harder when you like them. You mourn them more."

"Tell me, Alina," said the Darkling. "Has he claimed you yet?"

"Claimed me? Like a peninsula?"

"No blushes. No averted eyes. How you've changed. What about your faithful tracker? Will he sleep curled at the foot of your throne? — Leigh Bardugo

Both of you know that one of you will get hurt if you keep this up."
"I can't stay away from her," I said, curling my fist. — Millicent Ashby

Oh, Kathleen!" sighed Nancy as the two went into the kitchen together. "Isn't mother the most interesting 'scolder' you ever listened to? I love to hear her do it, especially when somebody else is getting it. When it's I, I grow smaller and smaller, curling myself up like a little worm. Then when she has finished I squirm to the door and wriggle out. Other mothers say: 'If you don't, I shall tell your father!' 'Do as I tell you, and ask no questions.' 'I never heard of such behavior in my life!' 'Haven't you any sense of propriety?' 'If this happens again I shall have to do something desperate.' 'Leave the room at once,' and so on; but mother sets you to thinking."
"Mother doesn't really scold," Kathleen objected.
"No, but she shows you how wrong you are, just the same ... — Kate Douglas Wiggin

I love you, Rylann." He cupped her face, peering down into her eyes. "And now I finally have a good answer to the one question everyone always asks me
why I hacked into Twitter. I didn't know it at the time ... but I did it to find you again."
She leaned into him, curling her fingers around his shirt. "That may be the best justification I've ever heard for committing a crime." She looked up at him, her eyes shining. "And I love you, too, you know. — Julie James

The hot air wrapped me up like a blanket, curling around my body and making me want to hang my tongue out like a dog. And then spray it with water. From a fire hose. On full blast. I don't know, I think the heat was messing with my mind. It — Robert J. Crane

By then, [1737]...the French were taking advantage of the new "reading rooms" created by architects such as Blondel and of new seat furniture and had begun a practice we now call curling up with a good book. — Joan DeJean

There's nothing to match curling up with a good book when there's a repair job to be done around the house. — Joe Ryan

Dove smiled in satisfaction. "Something I picked up in the south of France. It's the purest jasmine from Grasse, which makes it very special indeed."
"Why?" Evie sniffed again. The scent was rich and sensual, curling against her like a cat and warming itself on her skin.
"Child, jasmine is one of the most seductive scents imaginable, and the stuff from Grasse is the finest in the world. In the little village where I collected that, the farmers won't even let their nubile daughters walk through the fields when the flowers are ripe for fear they won't be able to control themselves."
"I can see why," Evie murmured. The heavy fragrance was intoxicating, and she felt like someone entirely new. — Deanna Raybourn

But those moments aboard the maglev had caused more than one sleepless night since coming aboard the Rampion. When she had lain awake and imagined slipping out of her bed. Creeping across the corridor to Wolf's room. Not saying a word when he opened the door, just pulling herself against him. Curling her hands into his hair. Wrapping herself up in the sort of security that she'd only ever found in his arms. She — Marissa Meyer

Now, 75 years later in an abundant society where people have laptops, cell phones, iPods, and minds like empty rooms, I still plod along with books. Instant information is not for me. I prefer to search library stacks because when I work to learn something, I remember it. And, Oprah, can you imagine curling up in bed to read a computer? Weeping for Anna Karenina and being terrified by Hannibal Lecter, entering the heart of darkness with Mistah Kurtz, having Holden Caulfield ring you up - some things should happen on soft pages, not cold metal. — Harper Lee

Julia smiled as if he'd given her a present and eagerly sat in it, pulling her legs under herself and curling up like a kitten. Gabriel could swear that he heard her purring. He smiled at the sight of her, momentarily relaxed and almost happy over such a trivial event. — Sylvain Reynard

I won't stay in
with married men
any more
said the wise girl
they're too agreeable,
it's a little too much
like curling
up
with the good book.
You mean
a
good book
Oh, dear,
did I say
the
good book
sighed the witch. — Norman Mailer

That was what he wanted, to be baked dry and hard, to feel the vaporous worries evaporating one by one, to know finally that all the damp little doubts and hesitations that covered the floor of his being were curling up and expiring in the great furnace-blast of the sun. — Paul Bowles

There is a lovely warmness about feelings of nostalgia as though in one's head one is putting on a pair of comfy old slippers and curling up in front of a fire. — Bill Geist

My hairstylist taught me a trick for my hair. You section off your hair and put them up in these crazy little knots and then it looks like you curled your hair. It's saved me so much time 'cause on the road you don't have time or plugs to plug your curling iron in. — Sara Bareilles

For me, there's nothing better than curling up in my favorite blanket on a cloudy or rainy day and just knit. Especially in front of the fireplace. — Magdalena Neuner