Don Touch My Girl Quotes & Sayings

I stopped at a red light, turned my head, and allowed myself to enjoy the handsomeness that was Brent.
He noticed my staring and asked, "What?"
"As if you don't know. You're not the type of guy that a girl gets tired of looking at."
"Oh. Well in that case, you're welcome to look all you want," he said and gestured to himself. "You're allowed to touch, too." He wiggled his eyebrows suggestively.
I lowered my voice into its sexy-husky range. "I was hoping you'd say that." With my flirtiest look on my face, I rubbed my hand slowly up his arm and then pinched him firmly on the shoulder.
"Ow!" Brent rubbed his shoulder and grinned. "Not what I had in mind! — Lani Woodland

I want to touch with my mouth. His mouth, with my mouth. Maybe his neck, too. But first things first: Make him aware I exist.

It's possible that he is already aware, if only in a 'don't step on the small girl' kind of way. — Laini Taylor

I crossed my arms over my chest. "Are you lost, little girl? The elementary school's over on west campus."
A pink flush spread over her cheeks. "Don't you ever touch me again. You screw with me, I'll screw you right back."
Oh man, what an opening that was. — Richelle Mead

A few years ago, long after it had been closed, Eli said he saw a girl swimming in it, coming out of the water in a bikini, laughing at her frigthtened boyfriend, seaweed snaking around her. He said she looked like a mermaid.
Deenie always pictured it like in one of those books of mythology she used to love, a girl rising from the foam gritted with pearls, mussels, the glitter of the sea.
"It looks beautiful", her mother had said once when they were driving by at night, its waters opaline. "It is beautiful. But it makes people sick."
To Deenie, it was one of many interesting things that adults said would kill you: Easter lilles, jellyfish, copperhead snakes with their diamond heads, tails bright as sulfur. Don't touch, don't taste, don't get too close.
And then, last week. — Megan Abbott

Briston shakes his head in answer, and slowly walks over to the sword. He cautiously stretches out his hand, which I can see is shaking.
"What are you doing." I ask, frightened.
"I'm going to see what happens if I touch it." Briston continues to stretch his hand out slowly.
"Briston don't. What if it, I don't know, sucks you inside?"
Briston stops to give me a dubious look.
"What? It could happen. Don't you remember Poltergeist? The little girl got sucked into the television. — Brandy Nacole

Francie nodded shyly. The girl brought an eraser close to the mesh. Francie poked a finger through to touch the vari-colored felt layers blended together by a film of powdered chalk. As she was about to touch this soft beautifulness, the little girl snatched it away and spat full in Francie's face. Francie closed her eyes tightly to keep the hurt bitter tears from spilling out. The other girl stood there curiously, waiting for the tears. When none came, she taunted: "Why don't you bust out crying, you dockle? Want I should spit in your face again?" Francie turned and went down into the cellar and sat in the dark a long time waiting until the waves of hurt stopped breaking over her. It was the first of many disillusionments that were to come as her capacity to feel things grew. She never liked blackboard erasers after that. — Betty Smith

Names are what you can hear or see, but cannot smell or touch. I don't need a name, as name stand for things they are not, and I am what all names stand for. If you gave me a name, it would mean that we are separate, you and I, when we are not.

- The Blind Girl and the Talking Moon — Cyril Wong

No," he said. "No, I'll never wonder what it would be like to have sex with someone else for the same reason I don't want to kiss anyone else. You're the only girl I've ever touched. And I feel like it was supposed to be that way. I touch you and my whole body ... rings. Like a bell or something. And I could touch other girls, and maybe there would be something, you know, like maybe there would be noise. But not like with you. And what would happen if I kept touching and touching them, and then ... and then, I tried to touch you again? I might not be able to hear us anymore. I might not ring true. — Rainbow Rowell

He is totally dreamy Grace. You see that don't you?" Sarah gave me more Caylie learned lingo.
"Oh, don't I know. I just don't want anyone else dreaming about him."
"He's far from ugly Grace. He's gorgeous." I gave her a glare. She kept on, "I will tell you this because you are my friend. He is so gorgeous every girl in this court has fantasized about him, including me. But you don't see the way we see him look at you. The way he stops everything when you come in the room. They way his eyes pop when you speak the first time to him when you approach. It's how he breathes too Grace. He seems to hold his breath until you are close enough for him to touch. He is completely and utterly in love with you girl. — Cyndi Goodgame

Festa di cazzo! Coglioni! Mostro!"
"A minute ago I was a hero." Sympathetically, he blew on the sting. "Better in a minute. Let's deal
with the rest."
"Va via."
"Would you mind cursing at me in English?"
"I said go away. Don't touch me."
"Come on, be a big, brave girl. I'll give you a lollipop after." He yanked the blanket aside, dealt
quickly, ruthlessly with the other scrapes. — Nora Roberts

Shall I tell her? Shall I be a kind and merciful narrator and take our girl aside? Shall I touch her new, red heart and make her understand that she is no longer one of the tribe of heartless children, nor even the owner of the wild and infant heart of thirteen-year-old girls and boys? Oh, September! Hearts, once you have them locked up in your chest, are a fantastic heap of tender and terrible wonders - but they must be trained. Beatrice could have told her all about it. A heart can learn ever so many tricks, and what sort of beast it becomes depends greatly upon whether it has been taught to sit up or to lie down, to speak or to beg, to roll over or to sound alarm, to guard or to attack, to find or to stay. But the trick most folk are so awfully fond of learning, the absolute second they've got hold of a heart, is to pretend they don't have one at all. It is the very first danger of the hearted. Shall I give fair warning, as neither you nor I was given? — Catherynne M Valente

He ran the back of his fingers along her flushed cheek. His touch was soft, and she leaned her head in his direction. "My beautiful girl," he said.
She took in his expression. "You think I'm beautiful?"
"I don't think you're beautiful, Haven," he said. "I know you are. — J.M. Darhower

Bring her back to me, Blaire." "She doesn't exist. That girl was just an illusion." "No, she isn't. She's here, in my arms, pretending to be someone else, letting bullshit get to her." He tightens his hold on me. "My beautiful, wild thing. They are dust at your feet. They can't touch you. Don't let them." Drawing back slightly, he smiles. "I won't let them. — Mia Asher

I lay my fantasy in the backseat of Isa's car and slide in next to her. She snuggles up, using me as her personal pillow, her blond curls sprawled over my crotch. I close my eyes for a second, trying to get the image out of my head. And I don't know what to do with my hands. My right one is on the door armrest. My left one hovers over Brittany.
I hesitate. Who am I kidding? I'm not a virgin. I'm an eighteen-year-old guy who can deal with having a hot, passed-out girl next to me. Why am I afraid of putting my arm where it's comfortable, right over her midsection?
I hold my breath as I settle my arm on her. She cuddles closer and I'm feeling weird and light-headed. Either it's the aftereffects from the joint or . . . I don't want to think about the "or." Her long hair is wrapped around my thigh. Without thinking, I weave my hands in her hair and watch as the silky strands slowly fall through the V's between my fingers. — Simone Elkeles

You find that time when you get yourself a boy, child, he holds the door for you. You enter a room before him. He closes you safe in his car. If you're at a restaurant, he gives you the seat with the best view. He stands when you stand. He offers you his hand when it's needed. And if you've got a touch with a drill and a hankerin' to use it, then you use it, girl. But if you don't and you got hooks you need put up in your bathroom, he best be gettin' on that for you and doin' it without any backtalk or delay. — Kristen Ashley

Don't touch me," said the girl. "I want to be sick by myself."
"That's impossible," said her mother. She continued to rub her back and the girl did not push her away — Julie Otsuka

If you want to touch me, Kendall, touch me. Don't hide behind those little girl slaps. — Lisa McMann

I don't want to be the funny girl or the serious girl. I would hope to touch on all different genres and all different types of characters, which I think I've been lucky enough to do, so far. — Yvonne Strahovski

I'm saying this because it's said breaths are stolen during a passionate kiss. That's not true, Gavin, because I literally can't breathe before your lips even touch mine. I try, but I'm unable to. I can't think when you look at me. You strip my mind bare. You always have, and it's beautiful and consuming. It's magical and everything a girl is supposed to feel. It's said you're truly in love with someone if your skin tingles from their touch. Mine tingles when I hear your voice; I don't need you to touch me. I can feel you when you're not near me. I feel you in my dreams. I felt you when you were a thousand miles away. — Gail McHugh

I don't know about immortal, but I must say that to me to touch more women and to have them understand friendships is important. I've had girls come up to me who said, "Yeah, after I saw 'Beaches' I called up my friend Denise who I was really mad at. She got me so aggravated and I called her and we made up." So if I could do that with this new release, yes, that would be very pleasing to me because, hey, it's a tough world. You need friends out there. — Garry Marshall

Here's a tip. If you touch a girl, even as joke, and she pushes you off, leave ... her ... alone. Don't touch her. Anywhere! Just stop. Your touch does nothing but sicken her. — Jay Asher

Play. "A wonderful picture of home life, only we don't have such homes," said a big, prosperous-looking man to his wife, with a touch of regret in his voice. "Yes," agreed his young daughter, a tall, slender, graceful girl, as she snuggled down cosily into her fur coat and tucked a bunch of violets away from the touch — Louisa May Alcott

You're back and forth with me, with your actions, with your emotions. You act like you don't remember me, then spring on me that you do. You flirt with me and then you stop on a dime. You kiss me and then you pull away as soon as I touch you. You're mad then you're not." I don't stop to take a breath or let him speak before finally raising the hand he's holding and letting it go. "You're holding my hand, then . . ." I trail off, not sure of how to finish that thought. Tearing my gaze from his, I try to rein in my emotions, to wipe the flustered girl up off the floor. — Kim Karr

No, no, don't touch your mother just before the baby is born. Now it will be a girl child, because you are one. Run along now. Take your evil eye with you."

"Ghias, we must be careful not to teach the girls too much. How will they ever find husbands if they are too learned? The less they know, the less they will want of the outside world. — Indu Sundaresan