Cutting Your Arms Quotes & Sayings

He look back toward the dance floor and greeted his teeth. She was in Tristan's arms moving gracefully in rhythm with the music. Tristan with cutting quite a swath through the ladies, he knew it shouldn't grate that his brother was dancing with Mary. Tristan knew more than he knew any of the others. It was expected. But still he didn't like the way Tristan watched her through hooded eyes. But then Tristan caught his gaze an issue a silent challenge: cut in. I dare you. — Lorraine Heath

When was the last time you wanted to say it all to the right person To have it all come out right, to surprise yourself at how together you could be. When was the last time you ever met someone who made you want to give it all to them I mean give yourself to them. Where you couldn't express yourself enough - like you wanted to cut off one of your arms to be understood. That's it - you would cut your head off to have someone understand you. You know how pointless that one is. You know how many times you've smashed yourself to bits on the rocks. — Henry Rollins

Can we get back to work now?" Haley asked, sounding innocent, but Zoe didn't miss the woman's lips twitching
or the humor sparkling in her eyes. Something told her that this woman truly enjoyed torturing her husband.
"For god sake's, my little grasshopper, you love the Yankees more than I do! What the hell is going on?" He turned accusing eyes on Zoe. "How dare you brainwash my wife?" he hissed.
"A re you going to leave so that we can get some work done?" Haley demanded, turning her attention to the computer.
"No," he said stubbornly, folding his arms over his chest, glaring at them.
"Buttercream frosting," Haley said softly, never taking her eyes away from her computer screen.
Jason licked his lips as he looked his pregnant wife over hungrily. "Tonight?" he croaked out.
"If you're good," Haley said, with a small shrug. "But you have to leave-"
"Bye," Jason said quickly, cutting her off and rushing out of the trailer just as fast as he came. — R.L. Mathewson

In another moment she had torn herself from his arms, lighted the candle, and Julien had all the difficulty in the world in preventing her from cutting off all one side of her hair. "I wish to remind myself," she told him, "that I am your servant: should my accursed pride ever make me forget it, show me these locks and say: "There is no question now of love, we are not concerned with the emotion that your heart may be feeling at this moment, you have sworn to obey, obey upon your honour. — Stendhal

They walked slowly, taking the shortest way, deliberately cutting through Campo delle Fava to avoid the crowds in Calle della Bissa. When they arrived at the foot of the Rialto bridge, they looked up at it, horrified. Anthill, termites, wasps. Ignoring these thoughts, they locked arms and started up, eyes on their feet and the area immediately in front of them. Up, up, up as feet descended towards them, but they ignored them and didn't stop. Up, up, up and across the top, shoving their way through the motionless people, deaf to their admiration. Then down, down, down, the momentum of their descent making them more formidable, They saw the feet of the people coming up towards them dance to the side at their approach, hardened their hearts to their protests, and plunged ahead. Then left and into the underpass, where they stopped, Brunetti's pulse raced and Paola leaned helpless on his arm.

"I can't stand it any more," Paola said and pressed her forehead against his shoulder. — Donna Leon

I hurt myself," Syren bit out. "I make myself bleed and it feels good. It eases the pressure inside me, but it never lasts for long." His lips trembled. "Before I slept in your bed, I'd never had a full night's sleep. Before I crawled into your arms I'd never been safe." He shuffled forward. "You give me that. You hold that power and you can take it away. — Avril Ashton

But what happens if such a patient, say myself, for instance, has rarely if ever experienced a normal state of functioning? What happens if such a patient has spent much of her life in mental hospitals, both pursuing and being pursued by one's illness after another? What happens if "regular life" to such a person has always meant cutting one's arms, or gagging? — Lauren Slater

The bite of existence did not cut into one in Hollywood ... Life elsewhere was real and slippery and struggled in the arms like a big fish dying in air. — Mae West

What's your problem with the Guild?"
"The only way to resolve it involves me being entangled in running it and I don't want to do it." I waved my arms. "I have the Consort crap and I have the Cutting Edge crap and whatever other bullshit the two of you throw my way. I don't want to go to the Guild every month and deal with their crap on top of everything else."
Curran leaned toward me. "I have to dress up and meet with those corpsefuckers once every three months and be civil while we're eating at the same table. You can deal with the Guild."
"You dress up? Wow, I had no idea that putting on your formal sweatpants was such a huge burden."
"Kate," Curran snarled. "They're not sweatpants, they are slacks and they have a belt. I have to wear shoes with fucking laces in them. — Ilona Andrews

Rosie!" Scarlett shouts. There's fear in her voice, mixed with fury. I grit my teeth. My sister flings the bathroom door open, a hazy form behind the white shower curtain. "What happened? Are you okay?" she demands, voice dark enough to intimidate a wolf.
"I ... " Scarlet," I say, cutting the water off. I sigh and reach for a towel.
A voice interrupts my movement. "Look, Scarlett, come on, it was an accident - "
Silas rounds the corner. I freeze, arm outstretched and still a few inches from the towel, body half exposed around the curtain. His mouth drops, cheeks flush, and he immediately whirls around to face the hallway.
"Sorry, Rosie," he said quickly. He puts his hands into his pockets and bounces on his heels. My face turns bright red, goose bumps scattering across my arms from both the cold and the shivery feeling Silas is giving me. — Jackson Pearce

I hope they spent those last few hours well. I hope they didn't waste them on mindless tasks: kindling the evening fire and cutting vegetables for dinner. I hope they sang together, as they so often did. I hope they retired to our wagon and spent time in each other's arms. I hope they lay near each other afterward and spoke softly of small things. I hope they were together, busy with loving each other, until the end came. It is a small hope, and pointless really. They are just as dead either way. Still, I hope. — Patrick Rothfuss

I deliberately ignored the sight of lean brown body cutting through the aqua water, glistening powerful arms dipping slow and steady in perfect rhythm with the strong kick of his long tanned legs.
I was going to have to work on my ignoring technique.
- Tim trying to ignore Jack in the swimming pool. — Josh Lanyon

Only then did I see. Something was amiss with Patrick's snap-on one piece, or "onesie" as we manly dads like to call it. His chubby thighs, I now realized, were squeezed into the armholes, which were so tight they must have been cutting off his circulation. The collared neck hung between his legs like an udder. Up top, Patrick's head stuck out through the unsnapped crotch, and his arms were lost somewhere in the billowing pant legs. It was quite a look. — John Grogan

That was when I cut my arms with a razor blade as a means of creative expression. I only did it lightly, just grazing the skin, to see the way the blood would bleed out, to make myself look tougher. Not like some of those kids who keep going deeper and deeper, wondering what they look like down to the bone, because it's a world that's so close and yet so far and so dangerous and so much their own. The only world that is their own. — Francesca Lia Block

His eyes shone playfully, turning his irises a deep cocoa. "That's why I like you, you're a challenge."
I folded my arms and leaned back on one leg. "Oh, so that's why ... "
"Well, that and your ass."
My cheeks flamed. "Thanks."
"And your breasts."
"Got it."
"And what's between your-"
"Dex," I warned, cutting him off. — Karina Halle

Strange that so few ever come to the woods to see how the pine lives and grows and spires, lifting its evergreen arms to the light,
to see its perfect success; but most are content to behold it in the shape of many broad boards brought to market, and deem that its true success! But the pine is no more lumber than man is, and to be made into boards and houses is no more its true and highest use than the truest use of a man is to be cut down and made into manure. — Henry David Thoreau

Where are the drug cartels getting their weapons? They are being provided by the United States. Cut off that flow of arms. — Noam Chomsky

[I] learned ... that friends are a good source of food and soul when one has not yet gotten the hang of cooking or living (as opposed to dying) alone. That nothing-not booze, not love, not sex, not work, not moving from state to state-will make the past disappear. Only time and patience heal things. I learned that cutting up your arms in an attempt to make the pain move from inside to outside, from soul to skin, is futile. That death is a cop-out. I tried all of these things. — Marya Hornbacher

While things on the surface seem more quiet than at any time since last summer, I do not like the maintenance of what amounts to almost full mobilization in aggressor countries. Surely they cannot afford it and if they had any definite policy of trying to work out economic salvation (except by arms) they would be showing some signs of cutting military expenditures. — Franklin D. Roosevelt

They seem to keep a specially cutting east wind, waiting for me, when I go to bathe in the early morning; and they pick out all the three-cornered stones, and put them on the top, and they sharpen up the rocks and cover the points over with a bit of sand so that I can't see them, and they take the sea and put it two miles out, so that I have to huddle myself up in my arms and hop, shivering, through six inches of water. And when I do get to the sea, it is rough and quite insulting. — Jerome K. Jerome

I would cut off my right arm to be someone's lover. — Jens Lekman

The video of 'Paranoid Android' has been censored by MTV. They took all nipples out of the cartoon, but they had no problem with the scene in which a man cuts off his own arms and legs. — Thom Yorke

Where do we end, and what is the self? You cut off your arm, you're still yourself. You cut off two of your arms, you're still yourself. You cut off your arms and your legs, you're still yourself, right? Also, the idea of the self seems to be embedded right around here, right around the eyes. Infants know to look at the eyes. — Mike Cahill