Quotes & Sayings About Dabbing

Emily nodded. "We're considering putting you on the cover." "Why does he need to be half naked?" Drew asked. "Muscle cars, muscles on men ... It sells magazines," the makeup girl mused, still dabbing that sponge around my eye. Drew appeared silently at my side, crossing his arms over his chest. "He's with me." The girl straightened, and her surprised expression bounced between us. "You're together?" "Yeah, so forget about it," he quipped. I burst out laughing. "Go get some coffee, Forrester. You're cranky." "I'm not bringing you any," he said as he walked away. "Thanks!" I called after him. "I can still admire your muscles," the girl told me. "I heard that!" Drew yelled. — Cambria Hebert

Sin-cere. Since the days of Michelangelo, sculptors had been hiding the flaws in their work by smearing hot wax into the cracks and then dabbing the wax with stone dust. The method was considered cheating, and therefore, any sculpture "without wax" - literally sine cera - was considered a "sincere" piece of art. The phrase stuck. To this day we still sign our letters "sincerely" as a promise that we have written "without wax" and that our words are true. — Dan Brown

Just dabbing pieces of my heart into things that make me shine, my little young simple life. — Nikki Rowe

In the Orthodox Church, we don't go for partial immersion; no sprinkling, no forehead dabbing for us. In order to be reborn, you have to be buried first, so under the water I went. — Jeffrey Eugenides

I recommend that you should work actively ... and study the artistic structures of Rubens, Rembrandt, Titian, Watteau, Poussin, and other painters, even Chardin, where he is an artist. Study very closely their dabbing manner of execution and try to copy a small piece of canvas, just one square inch. — Kazimir Malevich

Did I really get sauce all over my face?"
He shakes his head. "No. I just like dabbing girls' faces with napkins. It's a fetish of mine. Don't worry - my shrink says it's harmless."
Laughing, I pick up my own napkin and wipe the sauce from his forehead.
"Aha, you have the same fetish," Noah says, laughing.
"I told you we had lots in common. — Zoe Sugg

All right," I said, waving the cup away and dabbing moisture very carefully from my lips. "I'm fine." I breathed shallowly, feeling my heart begin to slow down. "Well. So. At least now I know why you've been coming back from the Cherokee villages in such a state of-- off--" I felt an unhinged giggle rising, and bent over, moaning as I stifled it. "Oh, Jesus H. Roosevelt Christ. And here I thought it was thoughts of me, driving you mad with lust."
He snorted then himself, though mildly. He put down the cup, rose, and turned back the coverlet. Then he looked at me, and his eyes were clear, unguarded.
"Claire," he said, quite gently, "it was you. It's always been you, and it always will be. Get into bed, and put the candle out. As soon as I've fastened the shutters, smoored the hearth, and barred the door, I'll come and keep ye warm. — Diana Gabaldon

Annabeth sat next to me, holding my nectar glass and dabbing a washcloth on my forehead. "Here we are again," I said. "You idiot," Annabeth said, which is how I knew she was overjoyed to see me conscious. — Rick Riordan

That wasn't so bad. She said, dabbing at her mouth with a napkin. What was it?
That was a Rocky Mountain oyster, also know as a Montana tendergroin.
No. I just ate bull's balls?
Only one, but yes, you just tore up a tasty testicle. Congratulations! — Kevin Hearne

No. I just like dabbing girls' faces with napkins. It's a fetish of mine. Don't worry - my shrink says it's harmless. — Zoe Sugg

A man needs but two things: a reliable moral compass to guide him and a strong dose of integrity to see him through all manner of troubles," Pensive said, raising his untensil with a wink. Tibbs stared doubtfully at the fork and said, "That not integrity. That's boiled potato with cream sauce." Pensive paused before answering, taking a delicate bite and dabbing his mouth with a napkin. "Nary a whit of difference, Tibbs, " he said decidedly. "Nary a whit. — Jessica Lawson

Hastily, she put down the teacup. 'What do I do? What do I do?' she'd muttered as she resumed fast-pacing round the kitchen, dabbing a tea-towel absently at the stain, then clutching it to her breast like a lifesaver. 'Call the cops? No I can't do that ... Go and help him?' She envisioned the grizzly scene. 'No, I don't really want to do that. — Teresa Schulz

Wolsey sits with his elbows on his desk, his fingers dabbing his closed lids. He takes a great breath, and begins to talk: he begins to talk about England. You can't know Albion, he says, unless you can go back before Albion was thought of. You must go back before Caesar's legions, to the days when the bones of giant animals and men lay on the ground where one day London would be built. You must go back to the New Troy, the New Jerusalem, and the sins and crimes of the kings who rode under the tattered banners of Arthur and who married women who came out of the sea or hatched out of eggs, women with scales and fins and feathers; beside which, he says, the match with Anne looks less unusual. These are old stories, he says, but some people, let us remember, do believe them. — Hilary Mantel

Does that feel better?" she asked, not expecting any sort of an answer but feeling nonetheless that she ought to continue with her one-sided conversation. "I really don't know very much about caring for the ill, but it just seems to me like you'd want something cool on your brow. I know if I were sick, that's how I'd feel."
He shifted restlessly, mumbling something utterly incoherent.
"Really?" Sophie replied, trying to smile but failing miserably. "I'm glad you feel that way."
He mumbled something else.
"No," she said, dabbing the cool cloth on his ear, "I'd have to agree with what you said the first time." He went still again.
"I'd be happy to reconsider," she said worriedly. "Please don't take offense." He didn't move.
Sophie sighed. One could only converse so long with an unconscious man before one started to feel extremely silly. — Julia Quinn

What happened?" said Clover, wetting a cloth in the basin, and dabbing Azalea's face.
"She had a sort of fit," said the King. "I think her underthings may be laced too tightly."
All the girls, including Azalea, blushed brilliantly.
"Sir," said Eve. "You're not suppose to know about the U word!"
"Am I not? Forgive me. — Heather Dixon

His heart slammed against his ribs, and joy flooded him, followed almost instantly by distress. Even from fifteen yards away he could see that she wore no makeup, and lines of fatigue were etched on her face. Her hair was restrained with a clip at the nape of her neck, and for the first time since he'd known her, she looked almost plain. Where was the Daisy who loved to primp and fuzz with her perfumes and powder? The Daisy who took such joy in dabbing herself with apricot scented lotion and raspberry red lipstick? Where was the daisy who used up all the hot water taking her showers and left a sticky film of hair spray on the bathroom door? Dry mouthed, he drank in the sight of her, and something broke apart inside him. This was Daisy as he'd made her. This was Daisy with her love light extinguished. — Susan Elizabeth Phillips

What phrase was that, sir?" "You said something about interviewing people face to - - " He shook his head, his tongue dabbing quickly at his lips. "I would rather not say it. I think you know what I mean. The phrase conjured up the most striking picture of the two of us breathing - breathing one another's breath." The Solarian shuddered. "Don't you find that repulsive?" "I don't know that I've ever thought of it so." "It seems so filthy a habit. And as you said it and the picture rose in my mind, I realized that after all we were in the same room and even though I was not facing you, puffs of air that had been in your lungs must be reaching me and entering mine. With my sensitive frame of mind - - " Baley said, "Molecules all over Solaria's atmosphere have been in thousands of lungs. Jehoshaphat! They've been in the lungs of animals and the gills of fish." "That — Isaac Asimov

He's not the relationship kind or so I hear."
"And do you want a relationship?" I asked her.
"No." She laughed, dabbing her fry. "But I have a feeling with someone like him, you get one taste and you will always want more."
"Sort of like crack?" Jacob suggested.
"Or Cheetos," Brit supplied. — J. Lynn

I took Russian in high school," Nathan said, climbing out of the pool. He'd decided to swim laps that afternoon instead of going to the gym.
"Did you?" Harrison asked, grinning at him.
"Yeah." Nathan grabbed his towel from the little patio table and began dabbing at his face. "But the only thing I remember is, Mozhno li kopirovat vashi domashnie zodaneeye?"
"Let me guess," I said. "You just asked me where the bathroom is, right?"
"No." He scoffed, flicking his wet towel at me. "I was beyond that basic stuff. I took two years of it. Give me some credit."
"Then what does it mean?" I asked.
"It means, 'Can I copy your homework? — Kody Keplinger

I inspect everything more closely, and there is about every surface - the river, the forest, the bark of the trees, the underbrush between them, even my own skin - there is about it all the unmistakable texture of linen stretched and framed. And this is when I feel the camel's hair brush and the oil paint dabbing tenderly, meticulously, at the space below my navel. — Caitlin R. Kiernan