Dragged Under Quotes & Sayings

The storm had come out of nowhere, tossing the ship like a toy on the waves. The sea had played along until it had tired of the game, and dragged their boat under in a tangle of rope and sail and screaming men. — Leigh Bardugo

It's a terrible thing, isn't it? To be dragged under? — Guillermo Del Toro

The matted straw cover of the latrine was yanked away. The sun blinded me as I looked up at the dark outline of two young soldiers in tattered camouflage, their uniforms made for men bigger than they were. They each held an automatic weapon, an AK-47, and were leering down at me. I could see the two gold teeth of one of them as he grinned.
Gold-tooth reached down and grabbed my hair, yanking me up by it until he could get the other hand under my arm and pull me the rest of the way. I screamed in terror. He pulled me away from the pit as he and the others held their noses and laughed hysterically. One held each arm and dragged me to the river's edge. They tore off my loose cotton dress; I had no underwear on. After howling with laughter and firing guns in the air, they crudely touched my body. — Nick Hahn

It didn't seem to be summer any more. I could feel the winter shaking my bones and banging my teeth together, and the big white hotel towel I had dragged down with me lay under my head, numb as a snowdrift. — Sylvia Plath

What's under here?" He toyed with the hem of my shirt.
"You've forgotten already?"
He dragged my T-shirt over my head and tossed it aside. "Oh, breasts. Best present ever. Thanks, pumpkin. — Kylie Scott

The drunk and the maimed both are dragged forward out of the arena like a boneless Christ, one man under each arm, feet dragging, eyes on the aether. — David Foster Wallace

I found her lying on her stomach, her hind legs stretched out straight, and her front feet folded back under her chest. She had laid her head on his grave. I saw the trail where she had dragged herself through the leaves. The way she lay there, I thought she was alive. I called her name. She made no movement. With the last ounce of strength in her body, she had dragged herself to the grave of Old Dan. — Wilson Rawls

That was what he'd made of her. A siren. A mermaid, and only when he dragged her under would she finally be able to breathe. — Pepper Winters

I will miss it so," she said beside him. "This hell of a place, I will miss it so much. This fat body, walking mud puddle, deceived by everything, this impossible, ruinous accident of a world, these people who would truly rather hurt one another than eat - oh, there is nothing, nothing, nothing I would not do to stay here ten minutes longer. Oh, I will leave claw marks, I will drag mountains and forests away under my fingernails when I am dragged off. Such a stupid way to feel. I will be all dirty from clutching at this stupid planet, and the gods will laugh at me. — Peter S. Beagle

The sand where he sat was warm to the touch but the night beyond the fire was sharp with the cold. He got up and dragged fresh wood in under the bridge. He stood listening. The boy didnt stir. He sat beside him and stroked his pale and tangled hair. Golden chalice, good to house a god. Please dont tell me how the story ends. — Cormac McCarthy

Yellowfang dragged her gaze from Brokenstar and looked at Fireheart. Her eyes clouded with pain and grief as she murmured, "He is my son." Fireheart felt the ground lurch under his paws. — Erin Hunter

Here's an important piece of information about me. If I'm looking for just a lay, I'm not going to bring that woman crepes in the morning or fix her window. And I'm sure as hell not going to risk my career to just screw around with a witness. If I'm going to take that risk, it's going to be worth it." His thumb dragged under my lip, causing me to suck in a shallow breath.
"And honey, I have a good feeling, you're worth it. — J. Lynn

Mary dragged in a long breath as the kiss eased to an end, but she wouldn't look at him. Her cheeks were red, her eyes downcast.
Mal put his hand under her chin, gently tilting her head up. "Don't feel shame, love. There's nothing shameful about kissing a man because you enjoy it."
The look in her eyes when she finally met his gaze wasn't shame. It was defiance, and fear. — Jennifer Ashley

I'd heard of Evergreen Care Center before. Cass and I had always made fun of the stupid ads they ran on TV, featuring some dragged-out woman with a limp perm and big, painted-on circles under her eyes, downing vodka and sobbing uncontrollably. "We can't heal you at Evergreen", the very somber voiceover said. "But we can help you to heal yourself." It had become our own running joke, applicable to almost anything.
"Hey Cass, "I'd say, "hand me that toothpaste."
"Caitlin," she'd say, her voice dark and serious. "I can't hand you the toothpaste. But I CAN help you hand the toothpaste to yourself. — Sarah Dessen

I realize that this is the way the world works. If I could stop the spin, stop the rotation, I would have done so long ago. I would have stopped it the first moment that Catcher's lips met mine under the moon in the amusement park. I would have held us in that eternity forever. But of course everything presses forward, even as we dig our feet against the reality of it all. One even tumbles from the next out of our control and we are dragged along, helpless. — Carrie Ryan

In a black and white world, Chase and I would never end up together - our mothers had ensured that - but in that small bathroom, under the harsh fluorescent lights, we dragged each other deeper into the gray - the messy, guilt-ridden space that sat between right and wrong. — R.S. Grey

Was there anything else? asked the centaur. Did Artemis say or do anything else?
Holly shook her head miserably. No. He got a little sentimental, which is unusual for him, but understandable. He told me to kiss you.
She stood on tiptoes and kissed Foaly's forehead.
"Just in case, I suppose."
Foaly was suddenly upset, and almost overwhelmed, but he coughed and swallowed it down for another time.
He said, Kiss Foaly. Those exact words?
No, said Holly, thinking back. He kissed me, and said, Give him that from me.
The centaur grinned, then cackled, then dragged her across the lab.
We need to get your forehead under an electron microscope, he said. — Eoin Colfer

I think that in the end we never managed to be good for one another. Without wishing to, we dragged each other down into our respective pits, each drawn by the other's darkness and the force of his eddies. We never truly knew how to help one another with what really mattered, instead we behaved like that pair of men drowning in the sea who, as they go under, cling so fiercely to their saviors, with arms and fingernails, that they end up dragging them down with them to the depths. — Carlos Castan

Of course, it may be that the arts of writing and photography are antithetical. The hope and aim of a word-handler is that he maycommunicate a thought or an impression to his reader without the reader's realizing that he has been dragged through a series of hazardous or grotesque syntactical situations. In photography the goal seems to be to prove beyond a doubt that the cameraman, in his great moment of creation, was either hanging by his heels from the rafters or was wedged under the floor with his lens in a knothole. — E.B. White

He got up. It was too early to go to bed; at least, he was not in the mood for it. He pined for a bit of amusement - something cheap and easy. A seat in the pictures, cigarettes, beer. Useless! No money to pay for any of them. He would read KING LEAR and forget this filthy century. Finally, however, it was THE ADVENTURES OF SHERLOCK HOLMES that he took from the mantelpiece. SHERLOCK HOLMES was his favorite of all books, because he knew it by heart. The oil in the lamp was giving out and it was getting beastly cold. Gordon dragged the quilt from his bed, wrapped it round his legs and sat down to read. His right elbow on the table, his hands under his coat to keep them warm, he read through "The Adventure of the Speckled Band." The little gas-mantle sighed above, the circular flame of the oil-lamp burned low, a thin bracket of fire, giving out no more heat than a candle. — George Orwell

looked up at me. Very content with herself, she opened her mouth, showed me the great job she did on me--- by holding all of my cum in her mouth. Once she got a real nasty look at me, only then she finally felt satisfied enough to swallow it, wetting her lips and savoring the after taste. I simply looked at her with my head tilted sideways. You....fucking...slut. If only I could have said that out loud, but as a hell of a compliment. "Knock knock knock..." There goes the door again. "Okay, that's it! Get the fuck up, now!" My fatherly instinct came over me for a moment as I dragged her off her feet and zipped my pants-- a bit of a bulge still relatively visible under my pants. I pulled my shirt down as a last ditch effort. I approached the front door and opened it with curiosity. "Sorry, — Destiny Wild

This isn't a mob, won't need to change the names. Everyone around you has murdered someone, something sacred. There isn't one nail without dirt under it. There isn't any white cotton panties that aren't soaked and stained red. It's better to push something when it's slipping, than to risk being dragged down. — Marilyn Manson

This might explain why Obama gave billions to Wall Street crooks, and dragged the Iraq and Afghan wars on and on.
Happily for the busy lunatics who rule over us, we are permanently the United States of Amnesia. We learn nothing because we remember nothing ... We have ceased to be a nation under law but instead a homeland where the withered Bill of Rights, like a dead trumpet vine, clings to our pseudo-Roman columns. — Gore Vidal

The newer education put stress on culture ... Saturday mornings, the young were brushed and washed, forced into blue cheviot suits, and dragged to children's concerts to learn appreciation. They wriggled, squirmed, counted the light bulbs in the ceiling, dived under seats to gather ticket stubs, stampeded out at intermissions. The weakness of their bladders was astounding. — Zelda Popkin

She loved all the wolves behind her house, but she loved one of them most of all.
And this one loved her back. He loved her back so hard that even the things that weren't special about her became special: the way she tapped her pencil on her teeth, the off-key songs she sang in the shower, how when she kissed him he knew it meant for ever.
Hers was a memory made up of snapshots: being dragged through the snow by a pack of wolves, first kiss tasting of oranges, saying goodbye behind a cracked windshield.
A life made up of promises of what could be: the possibilities contained in a stack of college applications, the thrill of sleeping under a strange roof, the future that lay in Sam's smile.
It was a life I didn't want to leave behind.
It was a life I didn't want to forget.
I wasn't done with it yet. There was so much more to say. — Maggie Stiefvater

Her knees entered the ground. Her moment had arrived. Still in disbelief, she started to dig. He couldn't be dead. He couldn't be dead. He couldn't - Within seconds, snow was carved into her skin. Frozen blood was cracked across her hands. Somewhere in all the snow, she could see her broken heart, in two pieces. Each half was glowing, and beating under all that white. She realized her mother had come back for her only when she felt the boniness of a hand on her shoulder. She was being dragged away. A warm scream filled her throat. — Markus Zusak

Finally, he reached for the bottle of lubricant, then found one of Zane's hands without breaking their kiss and squeezed some into his palm. Dazed, Zane dragged open his eyes as he panted and shivered under Ty, wondering what he was going to tell him to do. Zane would do anything right now to please him. To please them both. "Get — Abigail Roux

sidewalk, passed out next to his friend. "Who are these guys?" her oversized companion asked. Abigail held up the arm of one of the men and showed it to Elliott. On the back of his hand was an image of two winged dragons on either side of a fleur-de-lis. "Does that answer your question?" she asked. Elliott said nothing but instinctively reached up and touched the tattoo on his large neckTogether, Abigail and Elliott, dragged the unconscious men away from the store and down a narrow side walkway. Inside the store, Uncle Al settled his transaction with the clerk, folded up the now empty blanket and placed it back in his satchel. He tucked the satchel under his arm and stepped out the door, carefully looking up and down the street before heading on his way. Back in the confines of the narrow walkway, — Mark Wullert

The tango, by 1914, had been officially declared immoral, and dancers went through its showy steps under threat of being dragged off the floor to jail unless light was visible between the partners and they refrained from doing any demoralizing dance steps, like "snake-wiggling" at the shoulders. — Christine Wiltz

Under that light rain, beaming in the night game, can't stop now, keep moving, no brake pads. Came here to prove a point, live my life on the field, make history in between the base paths. And compete against the fear that is in me, that's my only barrier and I swear I'm going to break that. From the mud, the cleats that we dragged through the feet, this is that moment and you cannot take it back ... This is what you make of it, yeah we play to win, live it like we're under the lights of the stadium. Fight, until the day that God decides to wave us in, right, until he waves us in ... — Macklemore

They snatched the girl off her tire swing in the backyard and dragged her into the woods; her body made a shallow track in the snow, from her world to mine. I saw it happen. I didn't stop it.
It had been the longest, coldest winter of my life. Day after day under a pale, worthless sun. And the hunger- hunger that burned and gnawed, an insatiable master. — Maggie Stiefvater

But she did not take her eyes from the wheels of the second car. And exactly at the moment when the midpoint between the wheels drew level with her, she threw away the red bag, and drawing her head back into her shoulders, fell on her hands under the car, and with a light movement, as though she would rise immediately, dropped on her knees. And at the instant she was terror-stricken at what she was doing. 'Where am I? What am I doing? What for?' She tried to get up, to throw herself back; but something huge and merciless struck her on the head and dragged her down on her back. — Leo Tolstoy

In the middle, the river was a deep green, scattered with rocks poking their noses up for a breath. The water charged around them, creating eddies and whirlpools. Closer to the bank, the current dragged lengths of weed along with it so it seemed that long-haired women swam just under the surface, never coming up for air. — Claire Fuller

She was drowning, pulled under by a froth of limbs and bodies, swept along by currents of voices, music, and car engines. Dark shadows circled her like hungry sharks. She rose up, dragged to the surface by an impatient crowd. Hands and elbows pushed and shoved. Exhaust fumes and food smells clogged her nostrils. This was the old part of the city, where archaic buildings stood side by side, defences pitched against the onslaught of the modern. There were no smooth walls here, no towers made of steel and glass. This was all shadows and sculpture, buttresses and winding alleys; the impenetrable heart of a long ago city, beating to a circadian rhythm. The — Malcolm Richards