Quotes & Sayings About Curling

The two dragon riders sat further off, talking. Tallin was short, with curling red hair and deep scars on his neck and face. His dragon was sapphire blue and also had numerous scars. Elias wondered again what had happened to cause so many injuries. Hanko was taller, with black hair, and his dragon was carnelian red. The red dragon was substantially smaller than the blue one. Tallin — Kristian Alva

Desktop computers - boxes inside boxes - began appearing in those cubicles in the mid-eighties, electrical cords curling on the floor like so many ropes. — Jill Lepore

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

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 want to take you home." My toes start curling, and he continues in that low, husky voice until my whole stomach feels like a knot. "And I want your phone number, and when I come back to town, I want to see you again. — Katy Evans

What do you mean to do?" she asked.
"I mean to put some color on your cheeks."
"How?"
"I'm going to kiss you."
"Don't you dare. The maid spent an hour with the curling tongs."
"I willna muss your curls." A sly smile tugged at his mouth. "Not the ones on your head, at any rate."

-Maddie & Logan — Tessa Dare

You don't have to comment on every boring thing you do." I said. "This isn't Olympic curling. You're just unpacking a suitcase. — Maria Semple

He went to her head like a shot of whiskey but tasted a whole lot better. He sent the same fire curling into the pit of her belly with none of the bitter acid on her tongue. Instead, he was smooth and rich and sweet like fine chocolate, and for once in her life, Abby didn't worry about the treat going straight to her thighs. She rather hoped he would. — Christine Warren

How can you build on such a quicksand? Their most trivial action may mean volumes, or their most extraordinary conduct may depend upon a hairpin or a curling tongs. — Arthur Conan Doyle

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

My fingers memorized his face, the textures and lines, to the tempo of his rising urgency. I love you I trust you I love you I trust you. Warm pleasure spread over my body like spilled milk, until I was covered in it, toes curling, back arching, legs stiffening,. I held back a cry and came for him, only him. — C.D. Reiss

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

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

But no matter how I tried to get into the book I was reading, it wasn't working. Half of it was the book. It had insta-love, the bane of my existence. Girl sees boy and falls in love. Immediately. Soul mate, breath stealing, toes curling, love after one conversation. Boy pushes girl away for some paranormal reason or another. Girl still loves boy. Boy finally admits love. Who — Jennifer L. Armentrout

Now take a human body. Why wouldn't you like to see a human body with a curling tail with a crest of ostrich feathers at the end? And with ears shaped like acanthus leaves? It would be ornamental, you know, instead of the stark, bare ugliness we have now. Well, why don't you like the idea? Because it would be useless and pointless. Because the beauty of the human body is that is hasn't a single muscle which doesn't serve its purpose; that there's not a line wasted; that every detail of it fits one idea, the idea of a man and the life of a man. — Ayn Rand

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

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

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

It's a huge Carthusian monastery, stuck down between rocks and sea, where you may imagine me, without white gloves or hair curling, as pale as ever, in a cell with such doors as Paris never had for gates. The cell is the shape of a tall coffin, with an enormous dusty vaulting, a small window ... Bach, my scrawls and waste paper - silence - you could scream - there would still be silence. Indeed, I write to you from a strange place. — Frederic Chopin

Dougal eyed the breakfast repast. In addition to burnt toast, there was poorly trimmed ham, eggs that looked rubbery enough to bounce off the floor, pathetically dry scones, and small, smoking pieces of something he suspected had once been kippers.
Sophia noted Dougal's disgusted expression, and her heart lifted.
He looked amazingly handsome this morning, dressed in a pale blue riding coat and white shirt, his dark blond hair curling over his collar, his green eyes glinting as he began to fill his plate. Two scones, a scoop of eggs, and a large piece of blackened ham all went onto his plate.
Sophia had eaten earlier in the kitchen with Mary, who had served warm muffins with cream and marmalade, some lovely bacon, and crusty toast, complemented by a pot of hot tea.
Sophia hid a smile as Dougal attempted to cut his ham. Too tough for his blade, it tore into uneven pieces under his knife. He lifted a piece and regarded it on the tines of his fork. — Karen Hawkins

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

As the love of him who is love transcends ours as the heavens are higher than the earth, so must he desire in his child infinitely more than the most jealous love of the best mother can desire in hers. He would have him rid of all discontent, all fear, all grudging, all bitterness in word or thought, all gauging and measuring of his own with a different rod from that he would apply to another's. He will have no curling of the lip; no indifference in him to the man whose service in any form he uses; no desire to excel another, no contentment at gaining by his loss. He will not have him receive the smallest service without gratitude; would not hear from him a tone to jar the heart of another, a word to make it ache, be the ache ever so transient. — George MacDonald

Times like this, with the wind moving the grass and curling around her like a huge cool hand, Tess felt the world as a second presence, as another person, as if the wind and the grass had voices of their own and she could hear them talking. — Robert Charles Wilson

Lying in their field above the sea, watching the sun go down and the darkness creep over the field so that they were wrapped together in shadow. Will propped himself on one elbow beside her, is finger curling strands of her dark hair until it was bound so tight it pulled her scalp and she cried out, and then he bent over her, kissed her, so,so tenderly, and she thought she would die with happiness. They had made love, the very first time. — Julia Green

The snow fell and fell, dancing and curling like sparkling spindrifts, the white fresh and clean against the brown and gray of the world. And despite myself, despite my numb limbs, I quieted that relentless, vicious part of my mind to take in the snow-veiled woods. Once — Sarah J. Maas

There's a reason why she left them, Lauren," he says. His voice is deep, and it rumbles. "What's your name?"
"Um ... " I don't know why I hesitate. But "Beatrice" just doesn't sound right anymore.
"Think about it," he says, a faint smile curling his lips. " You don't get to pick again."
A new place, a new name. I can be remade here.
"Tris," I say firmly. — Veronica Roth

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

I leaned forward, but Todd lifted a hand to stop me. "There's one more thing I've been meaning to tell you all day."
"What is it?" I asked impatiently, not able to keep from staring at his mouth.
He took his time, drawing in a slow inhale and then letting it out just as slowly. "You," he finally whispered, running a finger across my chin, "absolutely take my breath away."
It was right then that I knew, down to my curling toes and thumping heart, that I had made the correct decision, maybe the most correct decision ever to be made in the history of decision-making. I reached for him, torn between wanting to stare into his incredible green eyes and an almost painful desire to kiss him.
Naturally, we kissed. And kissed. — Ophelia London

Curling leaves and twining branches outside my bay window look like a Van Gogh in the starlight - there is a river out there somewhere — Jeffrey Rasley

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

He held his eyes on her and saw the moment the girl of stone cracked, crumbled, and broke. He saw the quick inhale of breath, the loosening of defiance in her eyes, the tightening of her forehead, in between her eyebrows, her bottom lip curling slightly underneath a tooth. It was a small act, no burst of tears, no wail of drama. — Alessandra Torre

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

We drove out along the coast road. There was the green of the headlands, the white, red-roofed villas, patches of forest, and the ocean very blue with the tide out and the water curling far out along the beach. We drove through Saint Jean de Luz and passed through villages farther down the coast. Back of the rolling country we were going through we saw the mountains we had come over from Pamplona. The road went on ahead. Bill looked at his watch. It was time for us to go back. He knocked on the glass and told the driver to turn around. The driver backed the car out into the grass to turn it. In back of us were the woods, below a stretch of meadow, then the sea. — Ernest Hemingway,

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

I heard a clanging on the ladder beneath me, and I knew who it was before I felt her curling around my heart. The warmth exploded across me, across the water tower, across Summerville. — Kami Garcia

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

He positively forgot where he was, and not even hearing what was said, he could not take his eyes off the marvelous portrait. It was not a picture, but a living, charming woman, with black curling hair, with bare arms and shoulders, with a pensive smile on the lips, covered with soft down; triumphantly and softly she looked at him with eyes that baffled him. She was not living only because she was more beautiful than a living woman can be. — Leo Tolstoy

the rich mahogany timbre, the curling vowels and seductive consonants. His voice dances. — Christina Lauren

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

I never set limits or created mental barriers. You may have read that I imagined my biceps as big as mountain peaks when I did my curling exercises. This visualization process was essential if I was to gain the kind of mass and size I needed to win the mr Olympia contest against monsters like Sergio Olivia and Lou ferrigno. — Arnold Schwarzenegger

I suppose I will just have to make sure that I marry someone I look forward to curling around every morning. Whom I can't be without before breakfast. Or in the noon. Whom I need to race home to see after each appointment. Determined to lock her in my rooms, not because I need to hide anything but because I'd just as soon have her all to myself. To look upon her beloved face and hear her lips whisper in my ear. — Anne Mallory

The statesman received us with that old-fashioned courtesy for which he is remarkable, and seated us on the two luxuriant lounges on either side of the fireplace. Standing on the rug between us, with his slight, tall figure, his sharp features, thoughtful face, and curling hair prematurely tinged with gray, he seemed to represent that not too common type, a nobleman who is in truth noble. — Arthur Conan Doyle

Arin remmembered seeing her hand in Javelin's mane, curling into the coarse strands. This made him remember the almost freakish lenghth between her littlest finger and thumb as her hand spanned piano keys. The black star of the birth-mark. He saw her again in the imperial palace. Her music room. He'd seen that room only once. About a month ago, right before Firstsummer. Her blue sleeves were fastened at the wrist.
Something tugged inside him. A flutter of unease.
Do you sing? Those had been her first words to him, the day she had bought him. A band of nausea circled Arin's throat, just as it had when she had asked him that question, in part for the same reason. She'd had no trace of an accent. She had spoken in perfect, natural, mother-taught Herrani. — Marie Rutkoski

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

Bay stood there, red hair curling around her face and the mass tumbling down her back and over her shoulders. Her green eyes were bright with the fear she probably thought she'd hidden so well. ENFORCER'S REDEMPTION — Carrie Ann Ryan

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

She spoke with the usual cadences of the young: sentences curling upward at the end, all statements fading into a smoky, implied question mark, as though nothing could be said with any reasonable certainty. — Laura Kalpakian

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

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

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

Her mind flashed odd images - sharks swimming toward her, cars careening out of control in her path, fangs sinking into her skin, shadowy wings curling around her in a caress. Somewhere in her mind she knew she needed to step away from him, but she didn't, couldn't. She'd felt the same way when she'd first seen him: like she'd follow him wherever he wanted. It wasn't a feeling she liked. Irial — Melissa Marr

When I was in baseball and you went into the clubhouse, you didn't see ball players with curling irons. — Red Barber

It could be the sound of each name he knows/curling to ash in his chest's aortic furnace one after another, year after year instructing him/in the patient work of letting go. Even still/there are things it is reluctant to unclasp./How the Osage orange trunks and bare limbs/glow in the scattered light like veins of fire. — Bryan Penberthy

My parents had torn through my innocence and left me with a tar-like substance that was corrupting what was left of me. I could feel it at night; slithering and curling around my soul as it slowly devoured me. It was draining my energy and replacing it with an evil I was afraid to confront. — J.D. Stroube

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

And now it [grass] seems to me the beautiful uncut hair of graves,
Tenderly will I use you curling grass,
It may be you transpire from the breasts of young men,
It may be if I had known them I would have loved them,
It may be you from old people, or from offspring taken soon out of their
mother's laps,
And here you are the mothers' laps.
- Song of Myself: 6 — Walt Whitman

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

With her curling blond hair and her slender limbs and her beautiful clothes, Inez was alluring in an obvious way, and yet it was easy enough to see that her slightly protruding blue eyes were blank screens of self-love on which a small selection of fake emotions was allowed to flicker. — Edward St. Aubyn

Her gaze shifted from him to Keir and back again, a smile curling one end of her tantalizing lips. "So you're the brotherhood of the fighting toilet cleaners? — Avery Flynn

The 'bath' was almost the size of a small swimming pool, the steam curling off it pure, sensual temptation. A shower stood to her right, but it had no glass walls, the area defined only by an expanse of gold-flecked tile. A lightbulb went off in her head. 'Wings,' she whispered. 'It's all to accommodate those beautiful wings. — Nalini Singh

Emperor, right." she retacked the curtain "That's weird to say, after eighteen years of listening to celebrity gossip feeds go on and on about 'Earth's favorite prince'". She claimed one of the lumpy sofa cushions, curling her legs beneath her. "I had a picture of him taped to my wall when I was fifteen. Grand-mere cut it off a cereal box."
Wolf scowled.
"Of course, half the girls in the world probably had that same picture from that same cereal box."
Wolf scrunched his shoulders against his neck, and Scarlet grinned, teasing. "Oh, no. You're not going to have to fight him for pack dominance now are you? Come here."
She beckoned him with a wave of her hand and he was at her side in half a second, the glower softening as he pulled her against his chest. — Marissa Meyer

NIGHT, I dreamt of him. He was waiting for me on the dirt road, the sun filtering through the leaves, little splashes of light on the ground like puddles of rippling water. He smiled so brightly as I reached my hand for his, our fingers curling together like they always had. We walked slowly toward the house at the end of the lane. We didn't speak. We didn't have to. It was enough just to be. ROBBIE — T.J. Klune

[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

And there was something both frustrating and maddeningly arousing about that. His restraint made something burn low and deep in her belly, and then his mouth, oh God his mouth. He tasted like cinnamon, again, and every now and then he'd pull away, just a little - just enough to make her want to drag him back. Before giving her a teasing lick with that perfect, curling tongue of his. It set all the nerve endings in her upper lip on fire. — Charlotte Stein

Wild steep mountains floating in a haze of cloud...a sea of green trees swallowing the hills and valleys, and curling around the trails and rivers, with the wind in the leaves as its tide. — Sharyn McCrumb

I look out at the stadiums full of people and see them all knowing the words to songs I wrote. And curling their hair! I remember straightening my hair because I wanted to be like everybody else, and now the fact that anybody would emulate what I do? It's just funny. And wonderful. — Taylor Swift

We'll explain the appeal of curling to you if you explain the appeal of the National Rifle Association to us. — Andy Barrie

Rand Paul tried hard to upstage Donald Trump at the first debate, talking tough about his guns and his right not to register them. But with his pixie-ish perm, Paul does not impress me as the gunslinger type. Rand Paul is the RuPaul of politics. He would do better to defend his right to carry an unregistered blow-dryer and curling irons. — Michael R. Burch

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

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

It's curling ribbon, but you don't have to curl it. You don't have to do everything the ribbon tells you to do. Don't live your life like that. — Dan Bergstein

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

You're going to have to take care of yourself," Karrin said quietly. "Over the next few weeks. Rest. Give yourself a chance to heal. Keep the wound on your leg clean. Get to a doctor and get that arm into a proper cast. I know you can't feel it, but it's important that
"
I stood, leaned over the bed, and kissed her on the mouth.
Her words dissolved into a soft sound that vibrated against my lips. Then her good arm slid around my neck, and there wasn't any sound at all. It was a long kiss. A slow kiss. A good one. I didn't draw away until it came to its end. I didn't open my eyes for a moment after.
" ... oh ... ," she said in a small voice. Her hand slid down my arm to lie upon mine.
"We do crazy things for love," I said quietly, and turned my hand over, fingers curling around hers. — Jim Butcher

Do me a favor," he whispers, curling my fingers over the back of his and bringing them to his mouth. "What?" His eyes never leave mine as he brushes his lips over my knuckles. "Dream of me tonight," he says softly. He watches me, waiting for a response. I have no words, so I simply nod. He doesn't need to know that no one else occupies my dreams. No one. "Dream of my lips, teasing you." Straightening one of my fingers, he kisses the tip. His voice is like velvet and his words are like an aphrodisiac. "Dream of my tongue, tasting you." His tongue sneaks out to flick the end of my finger. A surge of desire rocks my core. "And I'll dream of you. Of what it feels like to be inside your warm, wet body. — M. Leighton

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

He felt like that: like a dark, curling force was working through him. It flooded to the tips of his fingers and warmed him. It spread his ribs wide with each breath. — Marie Rutkoski

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

My mother is from Cairo, Georgia. This makes everything she says sound like it went through a curling iron. — Augusten Burroughs

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

He moved, so quick, it was as if I blinked and he vanished from the window and reappeared in front of me. I jumped in surprise, hitting the door with a dull thud. I may have breathed his name, but I couldn't be sure of anything except his swelling scent and the heat wafting off his body. The dreamy sensation pulsed in my skull, filling me with an airy sensation that sucked the breath from my lungs. The current washed through me, carrying away all reasoning, all doubts. It was just me and him and the pounding electricity between us.
"I - I didn't come for this." yet, my hands reached for him, fisting in his hair and curling around his shoulder. "I should ... go ... " I pulled him to me. — Airicka Phoenix

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

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

Shouldn't you be putting on makeup and curling you hair, doing girly stuff?"
"I consider doing you girly stuff. — Joey W. Hill

I was so embarrassed I could feel my nerves curling like bacon over a hot fire. — Margaret Halsey

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

I [glanced] at his soldiers with a curling lip. I had learned this gesture from watching Stefano. Apparently it was just as annoying on my face ... — Barbara Michaels

And just so you know," he whispers in my ear, "our first kiss will be an unforgettably, toe-curling, heart-stopping, leave-you-breathless kind of kiss. I promise. — Annie Brewer

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

By sticking out his tongue and curling it sideways to explore the hairy jungle around his mouth, he was always able to find a tasty morsel here and there to nibble on. — Roald Dahl

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

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

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

Is a BJ adultery? What? Did I miss a day of school? Of course it is! Oral sex is adultery like Curling is an Olympic sport. The only thing is, oral sex should be in the Olympics because it's much harder than Curling, and if you're good at it, you DESERVE a medal! — Lewis Black

Kissing Amber was like falling into the sea: Her body surrendered to the pull of the tide, buoyed by the saltwater, every breath tasting like the ocean. Reese lost all sense of where the surface was. All there was, was this. Amber's lips, her tongue, her hands stroking back Reese's hair, curling around her head and holding her steady. If their first kiss had been a bit awkward, that was gone now. — Malinda Lo

We are a traditional family in many ways," she replied enigmatically, avoiding a lie. She wasn't above lying to serve her mission, but not to Sam, not if she could help it.
His eyes warmed. "So we're back to you giving me instructions on how to properly court you. Do I ask your brother's permission?"
He was stealing her heart with his sincerity. She shook her head. "I am not a woman who would be practical in your life, Sam. You need a home and family . . ."
He laughed, interrupting her carefully chosen words. The sound was pure masculine amusement, sending a curling heat through her and making her forget everything she was going to say.
"I'm a soldier, Azami. That's who I am. What I am. My woman will be my home - my family. Beyond that, who knows? I believe you're that woman. — Christine Feehan

His hair was a curling mess and he showed the proper desregard for sartorial elegance which Harry had always seen as a sign of reliability in a person. Neat men always struck him as desperate and ambitious. — Peter Carey

As she looked, the smoke puffing out of the chimney stopped curling upward and began to take on the shape of a wavering black question mark.
Sebastian laughed. "I think that means, Who's there?"
Clary pulled her coat closer around her. "It looks like something out of a fairy tale."
"Are you cold?" Sebastian put his arm around her. Immediately the smoke curling from the chimney stopped forming itself into question marks and began puffing out in the shape of lopsided hearts. — Cassandra Clare