Day Is Dragging Quotes & Sayings

I feel like having details from their day and having a plot and action and things to do is much more revealing than having a character sitting and thinking to themselves. When I'm writing, I want people to actually have a goal, something that's dragging them forward. — Kaui Hart Hemmings

told you I wanted this pretty cock in my mouth. Did you think I was joking?" Green didn't wait for a response. He closed those delectable lips over his cock head and took him into his mouth, going down halfway before pressing his tongue flat against the underside of his shaft and dragging it back up slowly. Ruxs' back arched, his head pressing back into the pillow. Instinctively one of his hands weaved through Green's hair, the other ghosting over his nipple. "I fuckin' love it when you do that. It looks so pornographic. Pinch 'em harder," Green whispered. "I'll come too fast," Ruxs said back, his own voice rough from sleep. "So what? I'm gonna make you come all day. You really have no idea what you've just started." Green went back down and worked his cock like a professional. Slurping and sucking, quick then slow, then fast again. "Oh — A.E. Via

You can't blame anyone else ... You have to make your own choices and live every agonizing day with the consequences of those choices. He knew this. That's why he deserted us like we deserted those civilians. He saw the road ahead, a steep, treacherous mountain road. We'd all have to hike that road, each of us dragging the boulder of what we'd done behind us. He couldn't do it. He couldn't shoulder the weight. - Philip Adler — Max Brooks

He grabbed a handful of God's silky curls and pulled, making him tilt his head back and show his throat. Day's senses snapped, turning feral. Day growled with the animalistic urge to leave a large bite mark on his man. Day bowed forward as his cock's first eruption of a thick, white rope of come hit God's Adam's apple, followed by much more painting his lover's neck and cheek. Day pulled slow, firm strokes up to his head before dragging back down until he was completely emptied. "Mmmhmm. I'm yours, sweetheart," God said, giving him a sexy grin. "Fucking right you are," Day said while he kissed and licked God's face clean. — A.E. Via

It would be inappropiate, undignified, at 38, to conduct friendships or love affairs with the ardour or intensity of a 22 year old. Falling in love like that? Writing poetry? Crying at pop songs? Dragging people into photobooths? Taking a whole day to make a compilation tape? Asking people if they wanted to share your bed, just for company? If you quoted Bob Dylan or TS Eliot or, god forbid, Brecht at someone these days they would smile politely and step quietly backwards, and who would blame them? Ridiculous, at 38, to expect a song or book or film to change your life. — David Nicholls

I remember I wanted to get away; I wanted to run. I couldn't stand any more. But I didn't want to run. I wanted everything to be perfect; everything was going to be great - I just had to be careful. I was responsible for it all. The clouds coming, I was dragging them towards us; my thoughts were doing it. I was ruining everything. It was up to me. I could control the whole day. All I had to do was make sure that I made no stupid mistakes. Don't walk on the cracks. Don't look at the clouds. It's up to you. — Roddy Doyle

She was having a violent reaction against beautiful clothes and the slavery they impose on one, her experience being that the instant one had got them they took one in hand and gave one no peace till they had been everywhere and been seen by everybody. You didn't take your clothes to parties; they took you. It was quite a mistake to think think that a woman, a really well-dressed woman wore out her clothes; it was the clothes that wore out the woman- dragging her about at all hours of the day and night. — Elizabeth Von Arnim

Local rabbi, who had been seen talking to the Romanians and Hungarians earlier. However it came to pass, as the sun moved toward the horizon, the entire population of Atlit - nearly three hundred that day - gathered as a single congregation. They streamed toward the promenade, dragging benches, chairs, and wooden boxes through the dirt. — Anita Diamant

Men go to a fire for entertainment. When I see how eagerly men will run to a fire, whether in warm or in cold weather, by day or by night, dragging an engine at their heels, I'm astonished to perceive how good a purpose the level of excitement is made to serve. — Henry David Thoreau

One atom in this universe cannot move without dragging the whole world along with it. There cannot be any progress without the whole world following in the wake, and it is becoming every day dearer that the solution of any problem can never be attained on racial, or national, or narrow grounds. — Swami Vivekananda

There are people who look forward to spending their sunset years in the sunshine; it is my own retirement dream to await my death indoors, dragging strangers up dusty staircases while coughing up one of the most thrilling phrases in the English language: "It was on this spot ... " My fantasy is to one day become a docent. — Sarah Vowell

Mal'akh was dragging Langdon across the living room when the congregation declared, "Amen!" Amon, Mal'akh corrected. Egypt is the cradle of your religion. The god Amon was the prototype for Zeus ... for Jupiter ... and for every modern face of God. To this day, every religion on earth shouted out a variation of his name. Amen! Amin! Aum! — Dan Brown

Decebel grabbed her hand and turned towards the door, dragging a growling Jen behind him.
"Oh smart ass of mine, I will. I told you once that one day your mouth would write a check that your ass couldn't cash. Today is that day." Decebel's eyes were glowing again Sally noticed.
"Uh no, you actually said cute ass. Get it right if you're going to quote yourself, you barbarian covered in hair and fleas. Bossy, domineering, overbearing, ridiculously over protective ... " Jen paused in between insulting her mate and hollered back at Sally,
"Sally, our conversation about the FAHDEH is not over."
Sally laughed when she heard a smacking sound and imagined Decebel had swatted Jen's butt. Then she heard Jen yell, "I don't care how hot you are, you're still a flea infested butt head!"
"FAHDEH, FAHDEH, FAHDEH, — Quinn Loftis

Healthy doubt encourages us to bring our questions to God; toxic doubt drives us away from him. And healthy doubt makes an appearance for the short term, ultimately bringing us to a deeper place with God, while toxic doubt consumes us and lingers on, dragging us down day after day, year after year. — Kasey Van Norman

A woman who was washing clothes in the river during the hottest time of the day ran screaming down the main street in an alarming state of commotion.
"It's coming," she finally explained. "Something frightful, like a kitchen dragging a village behind it. — Gabriel Garcia Marquez

What's the benefit of dragging up sufferings that are over, of being unhappy now just because you were then? There is good in doing this. We must not flinch when we look at the past. We must strive to learn from our mistakes. So we must learn to bear and endure. The sorrow will one day prove to be for your good. — Jeff Wheeler

It is fantastic to think that one day we may be able to access fuel, materials and even water in space instead of digging deeper and deeper into our planet for what we need and then dragging it all up into orbit, against Earth's gravity. — Rusty Schweickart

Where did love begin? What human being looked at another and saw in their face the forests and the sea? Was there a day, exhausted and weary, dragging home food, arms cut and scarred, that you saw yellow flowers and, not knowing what you did, picked them because I love you? In the fossil record of our existence, there is no trace of love. You cannot find it held in the earth's crust, waiting to be discovered. The long bones of our ancestors show nothing of their hearts. — Jeanette Winterson

Although he too was heading to work, Shahid was glad he wasn't dragging himself off to some office job. Shahid's view: anybody who had to wear a suit to work died a little inside, every day. — John Lanchester

Most autumns, the water is low from the long dry summer, and you have to get out from time to time and wade, leading or dragging your boat through trickling shallows from one pool to the long channel-twisted pool below, hanging up occasionally on shuddering bars of quicksand, making six or eight miles in a day's lazy work, but if you go to the river at all, you tend not to mind. You are not in a hurry there; you learned long since not to be. — John Graves

There was nothing, she saw at once, to be hoped for in the way of interest from their clothes. She did not consciously think this, for she was having a violent reaction against beautiful clothes and the slavery they impose on one, her experience being that the instant one had got them they took one in hand and gave one no peace till they had been everywhere and been seen by everybody. You didn't take your clothes to parties; they took you. It was quite a mistake to think that a woman, a really well-dressed woman, wore out her clothes; it was the clothes that wore out the woman
dragging her about at all hours of the day and night. No wonder men stayed young longer. Just new trousers couldn't excite them. She couldn't suppose that even the newest trousers ever behaved like that ... — Elizabeth Von Arnim

TIDES Every day the sea blue gray green lavender pulls away leaving the harbor's dark-cobbled undercoat slick and rutted and worm-riddled, the gulls walk there among old whalebones, the white spines of fish blink from the strandy stew as the hours tick over; and then far out the faint, sheer line turns, rustling over the slack, the outer bars, over the green-furred flats, over the clam beds, slippery logs, barnacle-studded stones, dragging the shining sheets forward, deepening, pushing, wreathing together wave and seaweed, their piled curvatures spilling over themselves, lapping blue gray green lavender, never resting, not ever but fashioning shore, continent, everything. And here you may find me on almost any morning walking along the shore so light-footed so casual. — Mary Oliver

And I know someone who's
perfect for her. He works in my lab. He's smart. He's funny. His name is Bert."
Bert?
Is she fucking kidding me? What kind of sick son of a bitch names his kid Bert in this day and
age? That's just cruel.
"He'll show Kate a good time. I plan on setting them up this weekend."
And I plan on handcuffing myself to Kate's ankle and eating the key. Let's see what kind of good
time Bert can show Kate when she's dragging me around behind her like a Siamese twin. — Emma Chase

He pictured Maizy here, permanently. His. He liked the idea so much it shocked him. And then he pictured her at his side when they got thrown off the land.
Rylan hated to see her go. But he knew if he talked her into staying permanently, he'd end up dragging her down with him when he failed. And that would hurt worse than broken ribs any day. — Mary Connealy

I can see how weird I was. One day I decided the school needed a Christmas tree and spent hours dragging this huge beast of a tree into school. No one was pleased. I got two weeks detention because I was 45 minutes late and had made a big mess of leaves and soil all over the building. All the kids just laughed at me. — Mika.

Good morning, Sunshine," Alessandro whispered, dragging the satiny soft object across the tip of her nose. Curiosity made her open her eyes. A rose. A blue rose. "I figured a single rose was safer than a dozen considering the massacre of the last blue roses I gave you," he smiled sheepishly. "Happy birthday, darling." Bree blinked and tried to remember what day it was. The fifteenth apparently. She groaned and pulled the blankets back over her head. She was officially thirty today. "Come on now, up we go," Alessandro pulled the blankets off her face and grabbed her arm, bringing her up. "For my birthday, I want sleep," she groaned. Gianni had suffered through a painful night as another tooth was starting to come in and thus his parents had suffered as well. "Nope, we've got a long day ahead of us. Let's go." "Why?" Bree yawned. "Because thirty years ago you were born and my life as I knew it would never be the same," Alessandro explained, nuzzling her neck. — E. Jamie

To my surprise, I felt a certain springy keenness. I was ready to hike. I had waited months for this day, after all, even if it had been mostly with foreboding. I wanted to see what was out there. All over America today people would be dragging themselves to work, stuck in traffic jams, wreathed in exhaust smoke. I was going for a walk in the woods. I was more than ready for this. — Bill Bryson

The new day is almost here, but the old one is still dragging its heavy skirts. Just as ocean water and river water struggle against each other at a river mouth, the old time and the new time clash and blend. — Haruki Murakami

Falling in love like that? Writing poetry, crying at pop songs? Dragging people into photo-booths, taking a while day to make a compilation tape, asking people if they wanted to share your bed, just for company? If you quoted Bob Dylan or T.S. Eliot or, God forbid, Brecht at someone these days they would smile politely and step quietly backwards, and who would blame them? — David Nicholls

He updated his report, doing his best to tune out the two men who staggered into the police station, dragging each other.
"I want you to arrest this idiot bastard," the taller one shouted, face contorted with rage. "He shit on my front porch!"
Your dog shits all over my yard every day," the other one countered shoving.
Calm down, please," Leila said when they reached reception.
The tall one thumped a fist on the counter. "I want to make a police report. I stepped in that shit!"
Chase checked out the floor behind them, the questionable footprints. Made a mental note to walk around them when he left. — Dana Marton

If you're good at this job, and I am, then every step in a murder case moves you in one direction: towards order. We get thrown shards of senseless wreckage, and we piece them together until we can lift the picture out of the darkness and hold it up to the white light of day, solid, complete, clear. Under all the paperwork and the politics, this is the job; this is its cool shining heart that I love with every fiber of mine. This case was different. It was running backwards, dragging us with it on some ferocious ebb tide. Every step washed us deeper in black chaos, wrapped us tighter in tendrils of crazy and pulled us downwards. — Tana French

I'd never reacted to a girl this way before. My body was on fire when I was around Rose, and when I wasn't with her, all I did was think about her. Today had been the longest day of my life, dragging on forever until it was finally time to go meet her in the field. — Karen Ann Hopkins

Life is not lost by dying; life is lost minute by minute, day by dragging day, in all the thousand small uncaring ways. — Stephen Vincent Benet

Not much of a morning person?"
"Such a useless time of day," she said, dragging herself upright and taking the cup. "Can't sleep. Can't steal. — Victoria Schwab

Lay your life down. Your heartbeats cannot be hoarded. Your reservoir of breaths is draining away. You have hands, blister them while you can. You have bones, make them strain-they can carry nothing in the grave. You have lungs, let them spill with laughter. With an average life expectancy of 78.2 years in the US (subtracting eight hours a day for sleep), I have around 250,00 conscious hours remaining to me in which I could be smiling or scowling, rejoicing in my life, in this race, in this story, or moaning and complaining about my troubles. I can be giving my fingers, my back, my mind, my words, my breaths, to my wife and my children and my neighbors, or I can grasp after the vapor and the vanity for myself, dragging my feet, afraid to die and therefore afraid to live. And, like Adam, I will still die in the end. — N.D. Wilson

Beneath Albright's office, the colliery sprawled across the hillside, red brick buildings scattered as though hurled from a great height, a hotchpotch of mismatched structures spattered on the valley floor. At the bottom stood the winding house, wheels motionless, above it, the engineering sheds and workshops, canteen and bath house. All lay empty. No buzz and hum of machinery. No voices raised in laughter or dispute. Gwyn found it unsettling: his lads had been out a month and a half and already the power had drained from the place. In the stillness, he caught the echo of footsteps. The crunch of boots on gravel. Generations of long-gone Pritchards clocking in and out. He was bound to Blackthorn by the coal that clogged his veins and by a bond of duty. The strike left him as diminished as his pit, day dragging after idle day. — Kit Habianic