Dimpled Quotes & Sayings

The daily work you put into rearing your children is a kind of intimacy, tedious and invisible as mothering itself. There is another kind of intimacy in the conversations you may have with your children as they grow older, in which you confess to failings, reveal anxieties, share your bouts of creative struggle, regret, frustration. There is intimacy in your quarrels, your negotiations and running jokes. But above all, there is intimacy in your contact with their bodies, with their shit and piss, sweat and vomit, with their stubbled kneecaps and dimpled knuckles, with the rips in their underpants as you fold them, with their hair against your lips as you kiss the tops of their heads, with the bones of their shoulders and with the horror of their breath in the morning as they pursue the ancient art of forgetting to brush. Lucky me that I should be permitted the luxury of choosing to find the intimacy inherent in this work that is thrust upon so many women. Lucky me. — Michael Chabon

Hey, pal, Matthew whispered. He was the only person who could get away with calling Ronan pal. Matthew Lynch was a bear of a boy, square and solid and earnest. His head was covered with soft, golden curls completely unlike any of his other family members. And in his case, the perfect Lynch teeth were framed by an easy, dimpled smile. He had two brands of smile: the one that was preceded by a shy dip of his chin, a dimple, and then BAM, smile. And the one that teased for a moment before BAM, an infectious laugh. Females of all ages called him adorable. Males of all ages called him buddy. Matthew failed at many more things than either of his older brothers, but unlike Declan or Ronan, he always tried his hardest.
Ronan had dreamt one thousand nightmares about something happening to him. — Maggie Stiefvater

A child is a curly, dimpled lunatic. — Ralph Waldo Emerson

I was afraid of ... "
"Go on ... " I press.
"Of unloading my baggage on someone as sweet as you."
I can't keep the smile off my lips. "Oh, wow."
"What?"
"I guess we're both oblivious. That's the same reason I kept running from my feelings for you."
"Because I'm sweet?" That dimpled, boyish grin flashed over his face. — A.G. Howard

-It is too hard yet to realize that they're grown up. When I look at those two tall sons of mine I wonder if they can possibly be the fat, sweet, dimpled babies I kissed and cuddled and sang to slumber the other day - only the other day ... — L.M. Montgomery

It's destiny; the stars have aligned perfectly to bring us together as friends. You cannot argue with what's meant to be, once the stars have spoken, it is absolute," he uttered, all smug and knowing.
Shocked that he used the word destiny, I cocked my head and shot him a look - for the first time actually seeing Parker. He was pretty ... too pretty to be a guy; streaky blond hair - as if each streak had been strategically placed - dark eyes, pale skin, and a charming smile that dimpled in one cheek.
"Destiny has already found me, with a clearly marked path for my future," I retorted.
"Then you are doubly fortunate, to have it find you twice." Parker smiled again, his eyes eerily piercing into mine.
Parker and Danielle — Deborah Ann

Ah! my poor Bahorel, she is a superb girl, very literary, with tiny feet, little hands, she dresses well, and is white and dimpled, with the eyes of a fortune-teller. I am wild over her. — Victor Hugo

Then swear you'll make this so damn good I won't regret it in the morning."
His mouth molded into that sexy, dimpled grin. "Darlin', the only thing you're going to regret is putting me off for so long. — Victoria Vane

Life ... is like a grapefruit. Well, it's sort of orangey-yellow and dimpled on the outside, wet and squidgy in the middle. It's got pips inside, too. Oh, and some people have half a one for breakfast. — Douglas Adams

Hastings hunched at the rickety table in Interview Room C, doing a pretty good job of looking bored. The dribbles of sweat along his temples were the only sign he was feeling the heat.

Eve dropped into the chair across from him, flashed a big, friendly smile. "Hey. Thanks for dropping by."

"Kiss my white, dimpled ass."

"As tempting as that is, I'm afraid I'm not allowed to make such personal contact."

"You kicked my balls, you oughta be able to kiss my ass."

"Rules are rules. — J.D. Robb

Costin's contagious, dimpled smile was positively breath taking on his handsome face. She took in his appearance quickly and liked how he hadn't changed who he was for her party. He didn't try to look fancy or be something he wasn't. His un-tucked dress shirt and jeans fit him perfectly and a little voice inside her whispered that he was freaking hot. She called that voice her inner Jen. Jacque and Jen did not know about her inner Jen. It was her little secret when she needed a boost of confidence.
Sally From Beyond the Veil — Quinn Loftis

Laugh out, O stream, from your bed of green, / Where you lie in the sun's embrace; / And talk to the reeds that o'er you lean / To touch your dimpled face ... — Phoebe Cary

How is Mia, anyway?" I ask.
Ansel looks up at me with the most goofy, dimpled smile I've ever seen. "Perfect."
"Ugh," Oliver says, setting his fork down. "Do not get him started. Lola says she's had to start warning them before she comes over. Last time she could hear them all the way down Julianne's driveway."
Ansel only shrugs, looking disgustingly pleased with himself. "What can I say? I am quite the vocal lover, and would never stifle the loud, satisfied cries of my wife during what is possibly the best sex anyone has ever had." He leans in, looks us both in the eye in turn, and repeats, "Ever". — Christina Lauren

O lovely river of Yvette!
O darling river! like a bride,
Some dimpled, bashful, fair Lisette
Thou goest to wed the Orge's tide.
O lovely river Yvette!
O darling stream! on balanced wings
The wood-birds sang the chansonnette
That here a wandering poet sings. — Henry Wadsworth Longfellow

A brother," she said, her voice soft.
The baby started to cry, a weak, garbled sound that worried the nurse. Lada's scowl deepened. She slapped a dimpled hand over his mouth. The nurse pulled him away quickly, and Lada looked up, face contorted in rage.
"Mine!" she shouted.
It was her first word.
The nurse laughed, shocked, and lowered the baby once more. Lada glared at him until he stopped crying. Then, apparently satisfied, she toddled out of the room. — Kiersten White

It is not raining to me,
It's raining daffodils;
In every dimpled drop I see
Wild flowers on distant hills. — Robert Loveman

April Rain It is not raining rain to me, It's raining daffodils; In every dimpled drop I see Wild flowers on the hills. The clouds of gray engulf the day And overwhelm the town; It is not raining rain to me, It's raining roses down. It is not raining rain to me, But fields of clover bloom, Where any buccaneering bee May find a bed and room. A health unto the happy! A fig for him who frets!- It is not raining rain to me, It's raining violets. — Robert Loveman

But more than anything ... thank you for loving me. Thank you for your dimpled smile and your bottle caps. — Gail McHugh

What happens next?" she whispered.
Connor turned to her and smiled faintly. Always a question, that was Rebecca.
There's more?" he said in mock wonderment
Rebecca dimpled.
You know very well there is more."
Tell me all about it," he encouraged.
In Papa's book - "
Tell me all about it without mentioning your papa. — Julie Anne Long

A Robin said: The Spring will never come,
And I shall never care to build again.
A Rosebush said: These frosts are wearisome,
My sap will never stir for sun or rain.
The half Moon said: These nights are fogged and slow,
I neither care to wax nor care to wane.
The Ocean said: I thirst from long ago,
Because earth's rivers cannot fill the main.
When Springtime came, red Robin built a nest,
And trilled a lover's song in sheer delight.
Grey hoarfrost vanished, and the Rose with might
Clothed her in leaves and buds of crimson core.
The dim Moon brightened. Ocean sunned his crest,
Dimpled his blue, yet thirsted evermore. — Christina Rossetti

I could insist that somebody take me to her so I can obey her orders."
"I think you might choke on that one, Zakath," Silk said lightly. "Obey is a difficult concept for someone in your position."
"He's an irritating little fellow, isn't he?" Zakath said to Garion.
"I've noticed."
"Why, your Majesties," Velvet said, all wide-eyed innocence, "what a thing to suggest."
"Well, isn't he?" Zakath said pointedly.
"Of course, but it's not nice to talk about it."
Silk looked slightly offended. "Would you people like for me to go away so you can talk freely?"
"Oh, that won't be necessary, Kheldar," Velvet said with a dimpled smile. — David Eddings

Can I take a rain check? Weekends are busy for me."
He shrugged, his perma smile back in all its dimpled glory. "You'd probably figure out a way to nearly get killed, anyway. — Kiersten White

He cocked his head and sent her a dimpled smile. "Where are you going in such a hurry?"
Where am I going? "I don't know. Probably the library."
"On a Friday night?" He made a show of horror. "What the heck are you going to do there?"
"Oh, what most people do at their local library - three way orgy, summon up the dead, if there's time, jam up the copy machine with Canadian quarters. Same old same old. — Jennifer Shirk

There is no right by the federal or state constitution to manual recounts. There is no law that says that you must count dimpled ballots, constitutional or otherwise. — Bill Vaughan

Eventually, there was a small grunt of assent from Tom, and he curled his warm body behind Baltsaros's. With a gentle hand, he carefully manoeuvred Baltsaros into a suitable position so he could penetrate him. Though he couldn't see Tom, the captain could tell how apprehensive he was. The captain had to laugh. "I'm not made of glass," he said, opening his eyes. Jon's cheek dimpled in the briefest of smiles. Tom mumbled something against his skin; though he didn't catch what it was, it sounded like either a prayer or a curse. Or, he thought with a smile, it could be both. However, his levity was broken a moment later when Tom's cockhead pushed hard against his opening and began to slide tight into his body. — Bey Deckard

As I got older, the scar reminded me of what people would choose to see if you let them. So I smiled at the attendant, and hoped that she saw a dimpled grin, and not the scar from a girl who started training with very sharp things from a very young age. — Roshani Chokshi

I do not believe in the government of the lash, if any one of you ever expects to whip your children again, I want you to have a photograph taken of yourself when you are in the act, with your face red with vulgar anger, and the face of the little child, with eyes swimming in tears and the little chin dimpled with fear, like a piece of water struck by a sudden cold wind. Have the picture taken. If that little child should die, I cannot think of a sweeter way to spend an autumn afternoon than to go out to the cemetery, when the maples are clad in tender gold, and little scarlet runners are coming, like poems of regret, from the sad heart of the earth - and sit down upon the grave and look at that photograph, and think of the flesh now dust that you beat. I tell you it is wrong; it is no way to raise children! Make your home happy. Be honest with them. Divide fairly with them in everything. — Robert G. Ingersoll

I paint a woman's big rounded buttocks so that I want to reach out and stroke the dimpled flesh. — Peter Paul Rubens

Directly in front of him, holding on by a low branch, stood a naked brown baby who could just walk - as soft and as dimpled a little atom as ever came to a wolf's cave at night. He looked up into Father Wolf's face, and laughed. — Rudyard Kipling

Who has not felt the beauty of a woman's arm? The unspeakable suggestions of tenderness that lie in the dimpled elbow, and all the varied gently-lessening curves, down to the delicate wrist, with its tiniest, almost imperceptible nicks in the firm softness. — George Eliot

He was friendly as a warm bowl of soup. An affable guy, he always had a dimpled smile on his face and lived life unplagued by want. — Joseph G. Peterson

At night when they prepared for bed Freda removed all her clothes and lay like a great fretful baby, majestically dimpled and curved. Brenda wore her pajamas and her underwear and a tweed coat - that was the difference between them. — Beryl Bainbridge

Andreas had been trying to remember the words to a ribald drinking song he had heard a few weeks ago when Saluador rode up next to him. The Spaniard's horse was a hand or so taller than his own, and in keeping with the man himself, much more spirited. Andreas was tall enough to see over most crowds, but Saluador eclipsed him readily. The Spaniard kept his beard and hair short, cropped close to his head, and when he smiled, his cheeks dimpled in a way that was very disarming to the ladies. Unfortunately, Saluador had not managed how to make his ready charm extend to his eyes. The ladies found this contrast exciting and dangerous, but Andreas thought that a man who couldn't smile naturally was a man who harbored a deep and long-standing grudge. Probably against something he could never change, like God or the weather or the color purple. Which made him unpredictable. — Neal Stephenson

Don't tell the others," he said. When she stepped back, he'd pulled his boyish face over his features again.
"Do you need to go?" Blue asked. She meant go for ever, but she couldn't say it out loud.
He whispered, "Not yet."
Blue wiped a tear from her face with the heel of her hand, and he wiped a tear from her other cheek with the heel of his. His chin dimpled in that way that comes before tears, but she put her fingers against it and it resolved.
They were wheeling towards the end of something, and they both knew it. — Maggie Stiefvater

He smiled his dimpled smile. "Well, I've found something in my heart, my love, and it's you. You fill it up so completely that I don't need anything else." His gaze turned solemn. "I don't want to be the river anymore. I want to be the earth that the tree roots in. And I believe that I can, if you'll be my tree. Will you?"
It was too much. She began to cry, though she smiled so he'd know that they were happy tears. "That proposal ... is vastly superior ... to your last one," she choked out between sobs. "I would very much love to be your tree."
-Jarret and Annabel — Sabrina Jeffries

There he is, a woman's living, breathing fantasy, doing his slow, cocky turn, spiky black hair, darkly tanned chest, dimpled smile-killer smile-all in the package of Remington Tate. He's perfection itself, and a new surge of hormones sweeps through me as I do what the rest of the crowd does and take in his visual, so blatantly on display in those low riding boxing shorts and so strikingly sexy, he becomes the center of my attention. The center. Of my. World. — Katy Evans

A golf ball is white, dimpled like a bishop's knees, and is the size of small mandarin oranges or those huge pills which vets blow down the throats of constipated cart-horses. — Frank Muir

Kathleen doesn't look like you," Henry said suddenly, staring at me.
"Uh, no. She doesn't. Not really," I stammered, not knowing what else to say. Without another word, Henry turned and left the kitchen. I heard him run up the stairs and looked at Georgia who met my gaze with bafflement.
"Did you hear that, woman?" I asked Georgia. "Henry doesn't think Kathleen looks like me. You got something to tell me?"
Kathleen shrieked again. Georgia wasn't moving fast enough with the jar of bananas she'd produced.
Georgia smirked and stuck out her tongue at me, and Kathleen bellowed. Georgia hastily dipped the tiny spoon into the yellow goo and proceeded to feed our little beast, who wailed as she inhaled.
"She may not look like you, Moses. But she definitely has your sunny disposition," Georgia sassed, but she leaned into me when I dropped a kiss on her lips. It didn't hurt my feelings at all that my dimpled baby girl looked more like her mother. — Amy Harmon

It's not goodbye, Sam. It's see you in two days. I promise ... " she said stroking his hair away from his dimpled cheek.
"I'm counting on it. You will be missed," he said as he put her hand on his chest near his heart. "You will be missed right here ... — Rachel Hanna

Let not thy sword skip one:
Pity not honour'd age for his white beard;
He is an usurer: strike me the counterfeit matron;
It is her habit only that is honest,
Herself's a bawd: let not the virgin's cheek
Make soft thy trenchant sword; for those milk-paps,
That through the window-bars bore at men's eyes,
Are not within the leaf of pity writ,
But set them down horrible traitors: spare not the babe,
Whose dimpled smiles from fools exhaust their mercy;
Think it a bastard, whom the oracle
Hath doubtfully pronounced thy throat shall cut,
And mince it sans remorse: swear against objects;
Put armour on thine ears and on thine eyes;
Whose proof, nor yells of mothers, maids, nor babes,
Nor sight of priests in holy vestments bleeding,
Shall pierce a jot. There's gold to pay soldiers:
Make large confusion; and, thy fury spent,
Confounded be thyself! Speak not, be gone. — William Shakespeare

Man!" he snapped. "A man's cub. Look!" Directly in front of him, holding on by a low branch, stood a naked brown baby who could just walk - as soft and as dimpled a little atom as ever came to a wolf's cave at night. He looked up into Father Wolf's face, and laughed. "Is that a man's cub?" said Mother Wolf. "I have never seen one. Bring it here." A Wolf accustomed to moving his own cubs can, if necessary, mouth an egg without breaking it, and though Father Wolf's jaws closed right on the child's back not a tooth even scratched the skin as he laid it down among the cubs. "How little! How naked, — Rudyard Kipling

I would not for my life destroy one star of human hope, but I want it so that when a poor woman rocks the cradle and sings a lullaby to the dimpled darling, she will not be compelled to believe that ninety-nine chances in a hundred she is raising kindling wood for hell. — Robert Green Ingersoll

Shahara grimaced at him. He was categorically insane-that was probably what the C.I. stood for. It had to be. "You have some severe mental problem I need to be aware of, don't you?"
He flashed a half-dimpled smile that sent shivers the length of her body. When he continued, it was in a strange accent that sounded more than just a little too creepy. "Just because I eat babies for breakfast and pick my teeth with their bones doesn't mean I'm nuts."
She rolled her eyes. Given who his father had been, he probably shouldn't be making jokes like that. No doubt that had been his father's favorite delicacy. "Any other weird habits I should be aware of?"
"Just my need to dance naked in the streets under the light of a full moon."
-Shahara & Syn — Sherrilyn Kenyon

Willa's big blue eyes, Willa's dimpled-cheeked smile. Tiffin's shaggy blond mane, Tiffin's cheeky grin. Kit's yells of excitement, Kit's glow of pride. Maya's face, Maya's kisses, Maya's love.
Maya, Maya, Maya ... — Tabitha Suzuma

Dinted
dimpled wimpled
his mind wandered down echoing corridors of
assonance and alliteration ever further and further from the
point. He was enamoured with the beauty of words. — Aldous Huxley

My Lamb, you are so very small, You have not learned to read at all; Yet never a printed book withstands The urgence of your dimpled hands. So, though this book is for yourself, Let mother keep it on the shelf Till you can read. O days that pass, That day will come too soon, alas! — E. Nesbit

What's wrong with you?" This was worse than a fight. Maybe he was all messed up from the magic. I didn't like when he smiled; he had dimples to die for. I really needed to stay grounded, but it's odd how dents in someone's face could add so much appeal. "Nothing." Still smiling, God damn his dimpled face. — Donna Augustine

Ho, pretty page, with the dimpled chin That never has known the barber's shear, All your wish is woman to win, This is the way that boys begin. Wait till you come to Forty Year. — William Makepeace Thackeray

I'm showbiz-fat. It's so funny, in all the reviews that I read, no one wants to use the word 'fat' as an adjective. So I have to deal with 'dimpled-kneed,' 'hefty,' 'plus-sized,' the most obscure words you can imagine. — Marissa Jaret Winokur

The story is told of Lincoln's first meeting with Mary at a festive party. Captivated by her lively manner, intelligent face, clear blue eyes, and dimpled smile, Lincoln reportedly said, "I want to dance with you in the worst way." And, Mary laughingly told her cousin later that night, "he certainly did. — Doris Kearns Goodwin

She looked for any sign of the boy who'd taught her to whistle a hornpipe, who could palm an ace of hearts and make it reappear from her sleeve, but failed to find even a glimmer of him. Instead she saw Ida taking on a second life in the features of her only son, and for a quick heartbeat Jo was almost grateful for the scar tissue dimpled across her cheek, forehead, and chin. No one would ever be able to invade her face, she realized. She would always simply be herself, whether she liked it or not. — Tiffany Baker

Damn it, the man needed a keeper. Yeah, sure he did. A dark-haired, dimpled, dhampir keeper, which wasn't going to happen, so just shut up.
Sometimes I didn't think it mattered what Mircea did in my head, because I was already crazy anyway. "It's like someone invented you just to mess with me," I said resentfully. "Quoi?" I sighed. — Karen Chance

Her Yankees-loving, bottle cap-giving, dimpled smile other half was gone, and there wasn't anything she wouldn't do to turn back time. — Gail McHugh

Please forgive me for fighting against us, Gavin. Please forgive me for not fighting for us when I knew we were supposed to be together. Forgive me for being the weak mess I am. But more than anything ... thank you for loving me. Thank you for your dimpled smile and your bottle caps. I'll never be able to look at one without thinking of you. Thank you for your stupid Yankees and your wiseass remarks. Thank you for wanting late night drives and sunset-watching with me. Thank you for wanting the good, the bad, and the in-between. — Gail McHugh

I have in all honesty believed that two people with similar names must have similar characters, that an unfamiliar word - be it Turkish or foreign - must be semantically similar to a word spelt like it, that the soul of a dimpled woman must carry something of the soul of another dimpled woman i knew before, that all fat people are the same, that all poor people belong to a fraternity about which i know nothing, that there must be a link between peas and Brazil - not just because Brazil is Breziliya in Turkish and the word for pea is bezelye but also because the Brazilian flag has, it seems, an enormous pea on it ... — Orhan Pamuk

Americans. They came right out with things. Hitchens family lore related the tale of how once, when I was but a toddler, my parents were passing with me through an airport and ran into some Yanks. 'Real cute kid,' said these big and brash people without troubling to make a formal introduction. They insisted on photographing me and, before breaking off to resume their American lives, pressed into my dimpled fist a signed dollar bill in token of my cuteness. This story was often told (I expect that Yvonne and the Commander had been to an airport together perhaps three times in their lives) and always with a note of condescension. That was Americans for you: wanting to be friendly all right, but so loud, and inclined to flash the cash. — Christopher Hitchens

When we were little, Eric and Fitz and I invented a language. I've forgotten most of it, with the exception of a few words: valyango, which meant pirate; palapala, which meant rain; and ruskifer, which had no translation to English but described the dimpled bottom of a woven basket, all the reeds coming together to form one joint spot, and that we sometimes used to explain our friendship. — Jodi Picoult

Before us the thick dark current runs. It talks up to us in a murmur become ceaseless and myriad, the yellow surface dimpled monstrously into fading swirls travelling along the surface for an instant, silent, impermanent and profoundly significant, as though just beneath the surface something huge and alive waked for a moment of lazy alertness out of and into light slumber again. — William Faulkner

Ink black hair, dark smoldering eyes with eyelashes so enviably long they cast shadows upon his cheekbones, a dimpled smile and broad shoulders and a height a little over six feet was all that comprised of Logan Jackson. Basically, he looked like he had just stepped out of the cover of GQ magazine and belonged in Milan and not Haven Falls.
He looked the same but completely different all at once. His pretty boyish features had hardened. He was still handsome but in a rougher more masculine way. Gone was the slightly mischievous innocent child. Now there only remained a devilishly handsome young man — Ali Harper

The pair stood watching each other, still as statues, moments ticking by like hours as the gale howled about them.
"You have very good ears, sir." she finally said.
"You have better feet, Pale Daughter. I heard nothing."
"Then how?"
The boy offered a dimpled smile. "You stink of cigarillo smoke. Cloves, I think."
"That's impossible. I'm upwind from you."
The boy glanced at the shadows moving like snakes around his feet.
"Seems to be raining impossible in these parts. — Jay Kristoff

Oscar had a straightforward, dimpled, happy smile. It was one of the hundreds of great things about him.
And after that we were best friends. It had been as simple and inevitable as the striking of a match. — Sarah Moore Fitzgerald

Michael tousled my hair and said, "Remember, no more skateboards, right?" And then this gem: "If you ever break your arm skateboarding again ... " He paused, flashing me a dimpled Charles Ingalls grin, which then suddenly disappeared. "I'll break the other one. — Alison Arngrim

The summer dawn's reflected hue To purple changed Lock Katrine blue, Mildly and soft the western breeze Just kiss'd the lake, just stirr'd the trees, And the pleased lake, like maiden coy, Trembled but dimpled not for joy. — Walter Scott

Hennick's iliac artery and vein, as well as the artery and vein of the new kidney, were spliced together with neat embroidery stitches. Then the surgeon took a deep breath, stretched his arms like a stage conjurer, and said to me: "You're about to witness the most wonderful sight in the history of medicine." He removed the arterial and venous clamps in sequence, and Hennick's blood began to pump into the withered kidney. Each beat of his heart, visible in the pumping of the arteries, caused the kidney to swell. It was like watching a process of reanimation: a refutation of death. As the kidney grew, its defeated, dimpled surface began to fill out to a lucent pink. The surgeon held up the ureter of the new kidney (the tube that carries urine to the bladder) and I watched as a bead of urine began to grow at its cut end. — Gavin Francis