Forearm Tattoo Quotes & Sayings

In the States, it takes you a lifetime just to get from Chicago's South Side to the West Side. — Luther Allison

My eyes trail from his hand to the tattoo written in small script across his forearm. Hopeless — Colleen Hoover

Gasping for breath, he turned on the lights and saw bits and pieces of his Mom and Dad strewn about the blood-spattered room. He recognized his mother's gold earring on an ear lying next to the bedpost and saw his father's anchor tattoo on a severed forearm. Everywhere he looked, he saw more ghastly evidence that some inhuman monster had sliced and diced his parents almost beyond recognition. — Billy Wells

Know what one of the guys at the drive-through Starbucks has on his forearm?" Bernadette said. "A paper clip! It used to be so daring to get a tattoo. And now people are tattooing office supplies on their bodies. — Maria Semple

Here is the threshold I do not cross: a sliver of light through the doorway finds his tattoo, the anchor on his forearm tangled in its chain. — Natasha Trethewey

Not being in touch with your vulnerability and not learning to own it and accept it and be comfortable with it leaves you in a position where you're liable to look at and judge other people for being vulnerable because they're reflecting that part of yourself that you're not comfortable with. — Shakti Gawain

Across the moon-pale scar that marred my forearm, Darian danced in dark ink, the gracefully curving edges of his name unravelling into a spill of colour as joyful and haphazard as the promise of stars. — Alexis Hall

You can't miss your schedule. Every morning, you're supposed to stick your right arm in this contraption in the wall. It tattoos the smooth inside of your forearm with your schedule for the day in a sickly purple ink. 7:00 - Breakfast. 7:30 - Kitchen Duties. 8:30 - Education Center, Room 17. And so on. The ink is indelible until 22:00 - Bathing — Suzanne Collins

The tattoo on her left forearm. Five digits encoding nothing but the unspoken prohibition on my asking her about them. The jaunty 7 with its continental slash. — Michael Chabon

Good things don't wait until you're ready. Sometimes they come right before, when you're almost there. And I figured when that happens, you can let them pass by like a bus not meant for you. Or you can get ready. So I got ready. — Taylor Jenkins Reid

The best thing to ever happen to marriage is the pause-live-TV button. — Rick Reilly

Thoughts of moonlight and silken hair evaporated in a black bolt of fury. Kaz saw Inej tug on the sleeve of her left forearm, where the Menagerie tattoo had once been. He had the barest inkling of what she'd endured there, but he knew what it was to feel helpless, and Van Eck had managed to make her feel that way again. Kaz was going to have to find a new language of suffering to teach that smug merch son of a bitch. — Leigh Bardugo

The newcomer stood well over six feet, as tall as any Warden. His hair was dark, the color of obsidian, and it reflected blue in the dim light. Lazy locks slipped over his forehead and curled just below his ears. Brows arched over golden eyes and his cheekbones were broad and high. He was attractive. Very attractive. Mind-bendingly beautiful, actually, but the sardonic twist to his full lips chilled his beauty. The black T-shirt stretched across his chest and flat stomach. A huge tattoo of a snake curled around his forearm, the tail disappearing under his sleeve and the diamond-shaped head rested on the top of his hand. He looked my age. Total crush material - if it wasn't for the fact that he had no soul. — Jennifer L. Armentrout

Something awful must've happened on the surface, Damy thought. He squeezed his forearm, looking at the animated tattoo there, the mark of the strike teams. — Raeden Zen

The gummy bears tattoo was my idea. It's my son's favorite candy. The sketch was my other son's idea. It's a self-portrait of himself. I just showed the artist his sketch and had him tattoo it on my forearm. It looks like a stick person with big hair. It's pretty funny. — Prince Fielder

It wasn't beautiful people like Celeste who were drawing Jane's eyes, but ordinary people and the beautiful ordinariness of their bodies. A tanned forearm with a tattoo of the sun reaching out across the counter at the service station. The back of an older's man neck in a queue at the supermarket. Calf muscles and collarbones. It was the strangest thing. She was reminder of her father, who years ago had an operation on his sinuses that returned the sense of smell he hadn't realized he'd lost. The simplest smells sent him into rhapsodies of delight. He kept sniffing Jane's mother's neck and saying dreamily, I'd forgotten your mother's smell! I didn't know I'd forgotten it! — Liane Moriarty

A day is like a whole life. You start out doing one thing, but end up doing something else, plan to run an errand, but never get there. ... And at the end of your life, your whole existence has that same haphazard quality, too. Your whole life has the same shape as a single day." "I guess it's one way to look at things," Grant said. "No," Malcolm said. "It's the only way to look at things. At least, the only way that is true to reality. You see, the fractal idea of sameness carries within it an aspect of recursion, a kind of doubling back on itself, which means that events are unpredictable. That they can change suddenly, and without warning. — Michael Crichton