Grunt Quotes & Sayings

Craw didn't just grunt - he made sounds like barnyard animals going to bed at night. The more frustrated and/or inarticulate he felt, the bigger the animal. This particular grunt sounded like a constipated cow. — Amy Lane

Ahem",she says. "I figured you were the only kid in the building, so it had to be you."
It's too easy
I can't resist.
"Excuse me" I say somewhat abruptly.
"It's you, right?"
I make George look as confused as possible. "Do I know you?"
Now she starts to doubt herself. "Oh, I'm sorry. I just, uh, am supposed to meet somebody."
"What does he look like?"
"I don't, um, know. It's, like, an online thing."
I grunt. "Shouldnt you be in school?"
"Shouldnt you be in school?"
"I can't. There's this amazing girl I'm supposed to meet."
She looks me hard. "You jerk. — David Levithan

I was a grunt, walking around in the jungle of Vietnam, trying not to find the enemy. Because I am so big, they were going to give me either a heavy radio or a huge machine gun to carry. I carried a radio. — Bob Gunton

He rose up over her, intending to enter he when she suddenly sat up and shoved at his shoulders. He fell onto his back with a grunt. Shara was on all fours, her hair tousled, as she crawled toward him.
In all his millennia of life, he had never seen anything so sexy. His cock twitched, and her gaze lowered to his engorged arousal. — Donna Grant

I can't help but admire the structural linguists who have carved out for
themselves a linguistic discipline based on the deterioration of written
communication. Another case of men devoting their lives to studying more and more about less and less-filling volumes and libraries with the subtle linguistic analysis of the grunt. — Daniel Keyes

Living next to you is in some ways like sleeping with an elephant. No matter how friendly and even-tempered is the beast, if I can call it that, one is affected by every twitch and grunt. — Pierre Trudeau

Glanced back behind me but heard nothing save for a grunt that was repeated from several different sources at once. — Robert J. Crane

Near the Mexican border, rocky canyons cleave the mountains, laying them aside like broken wedges of gray cheese furred with a dark mold of pinon and juniper that sheds hard shadows on moon glazed stone, etched lithographs in gray and black, taupe and silver. Beneath feathery chamisa a rattlesnake flicks his tongue, following a scent. Along a precarious rock ledge a ring-tailed cat strolls, nose snuffling the cracks. At the base of the stone a peccary trots along familiar foot trails, toward the toes of a higher cliff where a seeping spring gathers in a rocky goblet. In the desert, sounds are dry and rattling: pebbles toed into cracks, hoofs tac-tacking on stone, the serpent rattle warning the wild pig to veer away, which she does with a grunt to the tribe behind her. From the rocky scarp the ring-tailed cat hears the whole population of the desert pass about its business in the canyon below. — Sheri S. Tepper

His body was as powerful as ever, looking as strong and exciting and cut as it did in my fantasies. He owned me in smooth, explicit strokes. But it was the noises he made that had me aching. The tight grunt each time his hips met mine. There was a helplessness in that plaintive sound. Something that said, Let me in, a plea trying to pass for an order. — Cara McKenna

The best way to contribute to a brand-new environment is not by trying to prove what a wonderful addition you are. It's by trying to have a neutral impact, to observe and learn from those who are already there, and to pitch in with the grunt work wherever possible. — Chris Hadfield

Hi," he says. I manage to grunt in response, and his smile broadens. "Rude enough for you?"
I nod and give him a reluctant grin. Jeez, any ruder and I'd have to spank the pair of us. — E.L. James

What's the most important thing in life?" Coleen asked.
"Pie," Charlie said with a grunt. "Pass it, Momma."
Coleen was undeterred and stares at Lena, awaiting an answer.
"Love? Respect?"
Coleen stabbed the table with her finger. "Family. Most of the time, you don't love or respect them, but they're important. — Robin Alexander

She heard his grunt - bordering on a roar - and felt herself being hauled up. She — Marissa Meyer

Supposedly we were generating excitement, or underscoring a memorable event. But according to a grunt, "We wanted to know why you fuckers wouldn't come down and give us a fucking ride. — Robert Mason

Do you have a room preference?" I asked Ethan. "Whichever you prefer," he said, "since I'll be staying with you." There was no equivocation in his voice. No question, no request for permission. It was a statement, an announcement of something he meant to do. Something he would do. "Of course you will," I said. "It would be rude to muss two of her bedrooms. We might as well bunk up and save her the trouble." Ethan rolled his eyes. "That isn't exactly the reasoning I had in mind." "Oh, I know," I said, walking back to the first bedroom. "But if I don't keep a check on your ego, you'll become insufferable." He made a sarcastic, but pleased, grunt. — Chloe Neill

But boys who like the tough sports - boys who are virtually nursed on that potion of hustle, slam, and grunt - they're the ones with the best chance in life. — Julia Glass

If you feel like keeping a journal-that neither you nor anyone else on earth will ever want to read-be my guest. But if you want to write something that may eventually see the light of day, that a magazine might buy or a publisher publish, then you'll have to knock off the journaling and do the grunt work that real writing requires. — Robert Masello

Work hard, not in grunt work, but in chasing such opportunities and maximizing exposure to them. This makes living in big cities invaluable because you increase the odds of serendipitous encounters-you gain exposure to the envelope of serendipity. — Nassim Nicholas Taleb

I'm done waiting. Done doing things the easy way and letting things happen as they will."
Her heart caught. "What does that mean?"
"It means this is too important to let slip away again. You're too important." He leaned back against the truck with a low grunt of effort, eyes dark, jaw clenched. "I love you too, Tara. — Jill Shalvis

I am not, for all my frustration, opposed to capitalism. Most Americans, poor ones included, aren't. We like the idea that anyone can succeed. What I am opposed to is the sort of capitalism that sucks the life out of a whole bunch of the citizenry and then demands that they do better with whatever they have left. If we could just agree that poor people are doing the necessary grunt work and that there is dignity in that too, we'd be able to make it less onerous. — Linda Tirado

Why, you want me to hook you two up?"
Cordy eyed her, then let out a grunt. "Could you? Michael Thorley turned out to be an assclown, and the rest of this place is nothing but a barren wasteland of undateability. The only guy who's shown the slightest amount of interest in me this summer is Mr. Papadopoulos on the third floor of the nursing home. He says I have the ass of a Russian call girl."
"Ah, senility. — Gina Damico

How the hell should I know? I'm just a grunt. — James A. Moore

You ever see that thing on old tombstones, that Momento mori? That's Latin. You know what it means?" The roommate gave a negative grunt. "It means something like, 'Remember you gotta die.' And that's what this whole thing is like, like one great big reminder that we're all gonna go sooner or later, so we better be damn good to each other while we're here. — Chet Williamson

On the way out, a man loading up a wagon exchanged a wave with them. "You boys looking for work?" he asked skeptically. "Neither of you looks up to a full day in the field."
"You'd be surprised," said Jesper. "We signed on to do some work out near Saint Hilde."
Wylan waited, nervous, but the man just nodded. "You doing repairs at the hospital?"
"Yup," Jesper said easily.
"Your friend there don't talk much."
"Shu," said Jesper with a shrug.
The older man gave some kind of grunt in agreement and said, "Hop on in. I'm going out to the quarry. I can take you to the gates. What are the flowers for?"
"He has a sweetheart out near Saint Hilde."
"Some sweetheart."
"I'll say. He has terrible taste in women."
Wylan considered shoving Jesper off the wagon. — Leigh Bardugo

And she just takes it, drinking me down, sucking my cock with sharp tugs that have me babbling demands. "God, honey, promise you'll marry me one day. I have to have this for the rest of our lives. Forever. Always. Fuck."
She releases me with a long pull, her finger sliding away. My skin prickles. I feel vaguely empty, my body sore in places I don't want to think about. And as she slowly kisses her way up my stomach, I'm still babbling. "Give it to me on Christmas. Birthdays." Her tongue flicks in my belly button. I grunt, my hips twitching. "My days off. Major holidays. Midnight surprises ... " Mac licks my nipple, and I shiver, my voice going raspy. "Twice on Tuesdays. — Kristen Callihan

And who is the hero of that story? Who slew the dragon [totalitarianism]? Yes, it was the ordinary man, the taxpayer, the grunt who fought and won the wars. Yes, it was America and its allies. Yes, it was the great leaders: FDR, de Gaulle, Adenauer, Truman, John Paul II, Thatcher, Reagan. But above all, victory required one man without whom the fight would have been lost at the beginning. It required Winston Churchill. — Charles Krauthammer

After all, what could you expect from a pig but a grunt? — L.M. Montgomery

Ouma Nella's quotes p 144 -146
"Man, if you don't know where you going, any road will bring you there."
"It don't matter how far a river run. It never forget where it come from. That is all that is important."
"No matter if it's wet or dry," she grunt. "As long as you keep a green branch in your heart, there will always be a bird that come to sing in it."
"It's no use crying in the rain, my child, because no one will see your tears.
"Don't think you can climb two trees at the same time just because you got two legs."
"Ouma Nella, where am I not?"
"But you're right here with me, Philida. So there's many places where you're not."
"Tell me where those places are. I got to know. So I can go and look for myself. — Andre Brink

A name? Oh, Jesus Christ. Ah, God, I've been called by a million names all my life. I don't want a name. I'm better off with a grunt or a groan for a name. — Bernardo Bertolucci

Me? I was lucky to get a grunt from the local pizza delivery girl. And I had nice eyes too, not to mention a killer ass. There truly was no justice in the world. — Rob Thurman

Across from her, Hunter devoured her meal even more completely than she had. Sinclair watched her sink sharp teeth into the chicken bone, heard it snap, then the soft grunt of satisfaction. She made soft sucking sounds then emptied her mouth of the tiny ground up remains on a corner of her dish. Hunter ate with rabbit-like intensity, biting and sucking and spitting in an even rhythm until all that was left on the plate was a small brown and beige pile of ground bones. She finally looked up and caught Sinclair staring. — Fiona Zedde

grunt. "As if you had any." "Actually, — Anonymous

Syn was so gone watching his fingers disappear inside the flushed opening that he quickly lathered more lube on his hand to get his cock nice and slippery. With his hooded eyes leveled on the pulsing hole, he lined his cock up and began to push inside with slow, steady pressure. Remembering exactly how Furi always did it. He got past the first ring of muscle with a pop and both of them let out a startled grunt. Syn — A.E. Via

crossed her arms and stared back at him. "I really don't have to tell you anything." "No, you really don't." He pointed to the cops and detectives. "But those guys you do. And I'd have a better story prepared than the bullshit you just tried to feed me." Myers rose. "I need to attend to some things." "I'm sure. Calling a really good lawyer should be first on the list." She hurried from the room and disappeared down the hall to her office. On a hunch Puller went over to the bar where one of the waiters was sitting looking exhausted. He held up his set of keys and said, "Ms. Myers asked me to get something from her car, but she was so distraught she forgot to tell me what make and model." The man said, "Oh, it's the blue BMW 750. License plate says 'Grunt.' She parks it in the back lot." "Thanks. — David Baldacci

Writing a song is almost like cheating-writing because you don't have to finish your sentences, you don't have to use any punctuation, no one's going to edit your work. It's so wide open. People just grunt and that's a song. You can kind of do anything. — Mirah

Americans should never underestimate the constant pressure on Canada which the mere presence of the United States has produced. We're different people from you and we're different people because of you. Living next to you is in some ways like sleeping with an elephant. No matter how friendly and even-tempered is the beast, if I can call it that, one is effected by every twitch and grunt. It should not therefore be expected that this kind of nation, this Canada, should project itself as a mirror image of the United States. — Pierre Trudeau

Made you breakfast. Are you feeling okay? You look a little gray." I grunt. Morning is the devil's time. — Francesca Zappia

Brace yourself , Effie."
"Jesus Ch-" A grunt cut off the swearing. Wrath poked his head out of the window and whispered , "You're supposed to be a good Catholic. Isn't that blasphemy ?"
Butch's tone was like someone had pissed out a fire on his bed. " You just threw half a car at me with nothing but a quote from Mrs. fucking Doubtfire. — J.R. Ward

He heard a sickening thunk, his head twisting to the side just in time to see that Darnell had a five-inch-long dart sticking out of his shoulder, its thin metal shaft planted deep within the muscle. Blood trickled down from the wound. The boy made a strange grunt as he collapsed to the ground. — James Dashner

One little second of pleasure, a whole life of pain ... my mother knew nothing of the pleasures of a good roll in the hay ... she missed out on all that ... like me, her son ... a lifetime of sacrifice! ... the woman who can grunt and rave in the throes of a deep fuck can die happy ... — Louis-Ferdinand Celine

I know it must seem completely idiotic to you," Maddie said, hoping to coax at least a grunt from her, "hiring a date to your only sister's wedding and all."
Louise slowly nodded.
"I mean, who does such things nowadays, right? Women don't need men for anything. Well, they do need them for one thing. But that's all - and, really, debatable depending on your sexual orientation. — Jennifer Shirk

Dev?" This time, she got a grunt. Smiling, she pressed her lips to his jaw, loving the roughness under her lips. "I like sex."
She saw the edge of a smile, and it made her own lips curve. "I really like it." Rubbing her heel over the back of his leg, she ran her hand down his muscled arm, wanting only to touch him. "When can we do it again?"
He sounded like he was chocking as he said, "You're not acting like a Psy."
"Maybe if they tried sex with you, the others would change their minds, too. — Nalini Singh

Hugh's grunt sounded hollow in the night air. How dense of me not to have guessed the truth. — Sandra Ardoin

No, I don't have to practice that grunt. You just do it. Once you're in character, you're in character. You don't sit there purposely thinking, Well, I'll grunt here, or I'll groan there. — Clint Eastwood

I know you are reporters and I know this is your job, but, you know, take your note pads, take your pencils down, take your grunt-o-meters down, the fashion police, put everything away and just watch the match, you know, from just the fans' perspective. I seriously think that the quality of the match today was great. — Maria Sharapova

It ain't no disgrace for a man to fall, but to lie there and grunt is. — Josh Billings

Is this how you will die? Is this what you were meant for? To simply be bled out like a pig?
A spark of rage flickers, an antidote to despair.
Will you not even try to survive? Did the scientists make you too stupid even to consider fighting for your own life?
Emiko closes her eyes and prays to Mizuko Jizo Bodhisattva, and then the bakeneko cheshire spirit for good measure. She takes a breath, and then with all her strength she slams her hand against the knife. The blade slices past her neck, a searing line.
"Arai wa?!" the man shouts.
Emiko shoves hard against him and ducks under his flailing knife. Behind her, she hears a grunt and thud as she bolts for the street. She doesn't look back. She plunges into the street, not caring that she shows herself as a windup, not caring that in running she will burn up and die. She runs, determined only to escape the demon behind her. She will burn, but she will not die passive like some pig led to slaughter. — Paolo Bacigalupi

I have to mime at parties when everyone sings Happy Birthday ... Mime or mumble and rumble and growl and grunt so deep that only moles, manta rays and mushrooms can hear me. — Stephen Fry

I grunted. It's something I picked up over a fifteen-year career in law enforcement. Men have managed to create a complex and utterly impenetrable secret language consisting of monosyllabic sounds and partial words - and they are apparently too thick to realize it exists. Maybe they really are from Mars. I'd been able to learn a few Martian phrases over time, and one of the useful ones was the grunt that meant I acknowledge that I've heard what you said; please continue. — Jim Butcher

You've been quiet, lass. Are you alive back there?'
All she could do was grunt with exasperation through the tight gag that was pressing down on her tongue.
'Aye, I know.' He nodded, as if he had understood every word. 'I was thinking about removing it, but something tells me you've been working up a mountain of complaints, so if it's all the same to you, I'll wait till we're somewhere more remote before I release that mouth of yours, so no one will hear your screeching.'
'I won't screech,' she tried to say, but it came out as a muffled grumble.
'What was that? You think I'm very wise? Aye, I think so, too. — Julianne MacLean

Nobody ever took time out in a boat race," he noted. "There's no place to stop and get a satisfying drink of water or a lungful of cool, invigorating air. You just keep your eyes glued on the red, perspiring neck of the fellow ahead of you and row until they tell you it's all over . . . Neighbor, it's no game for a softy." When you row, the major muscles in your arms, legs, and back - particularly the quadriceps, triceps, biceps, deltoids, latissimus dorsi, abdominals, hamstrings, and gluteal muscles - do most of the grunt work, propelling the boat forward against the unrelenting resistance of water and wind. At the same time, scores of smaller muscles in the neck, wrists, — Daniel James Brown

I'm sure you do know how to pick guys back on the farm, but this is a whole different world. You can't just grunt and bend some guy over your tractor. — Maris Black

How the little piglets would grunt if they knew how the old boar suffered. — Ragnar Lodbrok

Nathaniel first stared at the vampiric Moses and then at the bizarre door. Numerous symbols had been carved deep in the surface and instead of square edges, they were rounded. Daniel then drew a dagger from his coat and proceeded to stand directly in front of the door. As he neared it, one could swear that the surface rippled like oil in a vat while he grazed it with the dagger. Quite suddenly, he jammed the blade in the very center of the door up to the very hilt. A high-pitched grunt followed and then a series of mechanical noises and clangs chimed and clicked until the door skid back two inches and descended into the ground. — J.D. Estrada

Mark felt the Berg descending. He leaned his head against the wall and closed his eyes, for a moment wanting nothing but to fall asleep and never wake up again, or to do the opposite and kneel, bashing his head against the floor until it was over. But there was still that small sliver of clarity in his mind. He held on to it like a man clinging to a root on the side of a sheer cliff. Eyes open again. With a grunt, he forced himself to his feet, leaning against the window. The small city of Asheville lay spread out before them. Walls had been constructed out of wood, — James Dashner

We grunt like mutts or faint like bitches; take your pick. — Shawn McBride

Only boxers can understand the loneliness of tennis players - and yet boxers have their corner men and managers. Even a boxer's opponent provides a kind of companionship, someone he can grapple with and grunt at. In tennis you stand face-to-face with the enemy, trade blows with him, but never touch him or talk to him, or anyone else. The rules forbid a tennis player from even talking to his coach while on the court. People sometimes mention the track-and-field runner as a comparably lonely figure, but I have to laugh. At least the runner can feel and smell his opponents. They're inches away. In tennis you're on an island. Of all the games men and women play, tennis is the closest to solitary confinement ... — Andre Agassi

Be a man. Not any old man, not mankind, but manhood. To do this you don't need to play pro football and grow hair on your chest and seduce every third woman you meet long as she's female. All you have to do is hunt, fish (or talk sense about 'em as if you had) and go bug-eyed when the girls go by. If a sunset moves you so much you have to express yourself, do it with a grunt and a dirty word. Or you say, 'That Beethoven, he blows a cool symphony.' Never champion a real underdog unless it's a popular type, like a baseball team. Always treat other men as if you were sore at something and will wipe it off on them if they give you the slightest excuse. I mean sore, Louis, not vexed or in a snit. And stay away from women. They have an intuition that'll find you nine times out of ten. The tenth time she falls for you, and there's nothing funnier."
"I think," Loolyo said after a time, "that you hate human beings. — Theodore Sturgeon

From my image of digging around in the mud like a grunt, I preferred fighting the war from ships. — Haskell Wexler

Still smiling, he leaned toward me. "You're jealous, aren't you?"
"Why would I be jealous of her?"
"Because she has what you don't."
"Which would be what? A bad hairdresser, poor rhythm, or a striking lack of financial sense when it comes to buying clothes?"
His smile grew. "Admit it, you're jealous."
"I'm not jealous." I straightened the napkins into a tall stack. "Rich people are so arrogant. You all think everyone just sits around coveting your wealth. Well, my happiness isn't dependent on my account numbers."
He gave a mock grunt. "I wasn't talking about Olivia's money. I was talking about me."
"Oh." It was suddenly hard to breathe. — Janette Rallison

My friend had a brilliant idea. This impressed me. It reflected an immense deal of credit on his brain. But when he expressed it,it lost all value, and enjoyed but a commonplace status. My friend blamed this devaluation on the language. "I hate English," he said. So he studied another language. He mastered it so perfectly that there was no room left in his brain for a brilliant idea. Now he has a grudge against words. He refuses to use them. He prefers to shrug or grunt. A new crop of ideas is growing. They show promise of future refinement. — Marvin L. Cohen

No other city in the U.S. can divest the visitor of so much money with so little enthusiasm. In Dallas, they take away with gusto; in New Orleans, with a bow; in San Francisco, with a wink and a grin. In New York, you're lucky if you get a grunt. — Fletcher Knebel

How do you define difficult?"
"By your presence."
She grinned fully, delighted to feel the tension
dissipate. "Now you are just flattering me for no
reason."
He grunted.
"On the contrary," she said, as if his grunt had
been a worded response. "It was most flattering."
He stared at her.
"What? Did you think I wouldn't figure out how to
interpret your grunts? — Anne Mallory

Jones paused, reached into his sleeve, and pulled out a cigarette. "But I can't help but think that I'm taking advice from a grunt that's more fucked up than a left handed football bat. — B. Rockow

It's just impossible to ignore the activists in your party. These are the people who stuff the envelopes, and walk the precincts, and make the telephone calls, and do all the so-called grunt work that brings about a successful campaign. — Pat Robertson

Seem at all surprising. It was just like Marlow. It was accepted in silence. No one took the trouble to grunt even; and presently he said, very slow - I was thinking of very old times, when the Romans first came here, nineteen hundred years ago - the other day ... Light came out of this river since - you say Knights? Yes; but it is like a running blaze on a plain, like a flash of lightning in the clouds. We live in the flicker - may it last as long as the old earth keeps rolling! But darkness was here yesterday. Imagine the feelings of a commander of a fine - what d'ye call 'em? - trireme in the Mediterranean, ordered suddenly to the north; run overland across the Gauls in a hurry; put in charge of one of these craft the legionaries, - a wonderful lot of handy men they must have been too - used to build, apparently — Joseph Conrad

Players grunt, coaches yell, and pads and helmets crack, creating a frightening symphony of future early-onset dementia. — Nate Jackson

Instinctively, I shoved my arm into the void in front of my face and backed up. I heard heavy breathing, a soft grunt, and then I was roughly thrown aside. As the footsteps retreated, I tried to see who it was, but it was too dark. — Suzanne M. Trauth

She tried to kill you, Viola. She tried to blow you up ... You don't owe her nothing,' he says.
But I feel his arms on me and I'm realizing things don't seem so impossible anymore. I feel Todd touching me and there's anger rising in my gut but it's not at him and I grunt and I pull myself up again, leaning on him to keep me there as I stand. 'I do owe her,' I say. 'I owe her the look on her face when she sees me alive. — Patrick Ness

If we had directions, it wouldn't be life. It would be an assignment. Grunt work. — James Patterson

This here is Juan Sweeting, my second," Michael said. "Goes by Ceps." They shook, the man greeting him with a grunt. "How'd you get the name Ceps?" Peter asked. "I haven't heard that before." The man curled his arms, popping a pair of biceps like two large grapefruits. — Justin Cronin

Testosterone overload?" Merinus gave an unladylike grunt. "More like asshole overload if you ask me. — Lora Leigh

As you know, I was one of the original grunters. But Jimmy Connors used to grunt way before I was born. I never knew I was grunting, it was just part of my strokes. — Monica Seles

Finally, I sat up. "So, I suppose you should do something, wolfie. Hunt maybe?"
A grunt, the tone saying no.
"Run? Get some exercise?"
Another grunt, less decisive, more like a maybe.
He pushed to his feet, wobbly, still adjusting to his new center of gravity. He gingerly moved one fore paw, then the next, one rear paw, then the other. He picked up the pace, but still slow as he circled the clearing. A snort, like he'd figured it out, and broke into a lope, stumbled and plowed muzzle first into the undergrowth.
I stifled a laugh, but not very well, and he glowered at me.
"Forget running, a nice, leisurely stroll might be more your speed."
He snorted and turned fast. When I fell back, he gave a growling chuckle.
"Still cant resist throwing your weight around, can you? — Kelley Armstrong

Grunts were perhaps the only group of Americans to ever experience complete racial equality. Equal opportunity death has a way of rendering racial differences insignificant. Bush Marines who were black were torn between loyalties to their grunt buddies, and racial solidarity demanded by rear blacks. They were called Uncle Tom for even talking to us. It was a test of their integrity, but very seldom did any give in. — Jeff Kelly

Perhaps, when we remember wars, we should take off our clothes and paint ourselves blue and go on all fours all day long and grunt like pigs. That would surely be more appropriate than noble oratory and shows of flags and well-oiled guns. — Kurt Vonnegut

A brawl was in progress near the threshold of the tavern, a writhing mixture of arms, legs, flying hats, and bottles and canes. Anytime there was a fight, the greatest likelihood was that her brother had started it.
"Merripen," she said anxiously, "you know how Leo is when he's foxed. He's probably in the middle of the fray. If you would be so kind - "
Before she had even finished, Merripen made to leave the carriage.
"Wait," Rohan said. "You'd better let me handle it."
Merripen gave him a cold glance. "You doubt my ability to fight?"
"This is a London rookery. I'm used to the kind of tricks they employ. If you - " Rohan broke off as Merripen ignored him and left the carriage with a surly grunt. "So be it," Rohan said, exiting the carriage and standing beside it to watch. — Lisa Kleypas

Surprising. It was just like Marlow. It was accepted in silence. No one took the trouble to grunt even; and presently he said, very slow - I was thinking of very old times, when the Romans first came here, nineteen hundred years ago - the other day ... Light came out of this river since - you say Knights? Yes; but it is like a running blaze on a plain, like a flash of lightning in the clouds. We live in the flicker - may it last as long as the old earth keeps rolling! But darkness was — Joseph Conrad

I'll make Goyle do lines, it'll kill him, he hates writing," said Ron happily. He lowered his voice to Goyle's low grunt and, screwing up his face in a look of pained concentration, mimed writing in midair. "I ... must ... not ... look ... like ... a ... baboon's ... backside. — J.K. Rowling

Well, you've got the growling part down pat already. Probaly all those years of practice."
He began to rise, his legs wobbly.
"All right, I'm coming back. I just didn't want to be in your way."
A grunt. Your not. Or that's what I hoped he meant.
"You can understand me, can't you?" I said as I returned to sit on his discarded sweatshirt. "You know what I'm saying."
He tried to nod, then snarled at the awkwardness of it.
"Not easy when you can't talk, is it?" I grinned. "Well, not easy for you. I could get used to it."
He grumbled, but I coulld see the relief in his eyes, like he was glad to see me smile.
"So I was right, wasn't I? It's still you even if wolf form."
He grunted.
"No sudden urges to go kill something?"
He rolled his eyes.
"Hey, you're the one who was worried." I paused. "And I don't smell like dinner, right?"
I got a real good look for that one.
"Just covering my bases. — Kelley Armstrong

Can you make it past me, thief-catcher?" Mat called, careful not to take his eyes off the man waiting for him with blade poised to strike. Sandar had insisted irritably on "thief-catcher," not "thief-taker," though Mat could not see any difference.
"I cannot," Sandar called from behind him. "If you move to let me by, you will lose room to swing that oar you call a staff, and he will spit you like a grunt."
Like a what? "Well, think of something, Tairen. This ragamuffin is grating my nerves."
The man in the gold-striped coat sneered. "You will be honored to die on the blade of the High Lord Darlin, peasant, if I allow it so." It was the first time he had deigned to speak. "Instead, I think I will have the pair of you hung by the heels, and watch while the skin is stripped from your bodies - "
"I do not think I'd like that," Mat said. — Robert Jordan

Lucky's gut churned with dread. I couldn't have told them anything about Lick, about her secret meeting with Grunt. Alpha would have thrown her out - or killed her. I just hope I made the right decision. — Erin Hunter

Grunt, foam at the mouth, and otherwise get psychic. — Theodore Annemann

There is one man," the artist said after a moment. He'd paled. "H. F. Powell."
"Where would I find him?"
West didn't seem to hear him for a moment. He shook his head as if clearing away cobwebs from his brain. "Find him?" His laugh was more of a grunt. "Six feet under, last I checked. — B. J. Daniels

So pathetic," he said, with a grunt. "So sad. Such a cliche. You can be so fond of cinema, of world literature, the classics, but then, when you find yourself playing out a classic scene, you don't feel ennobled, linked to that greatness. You feel...pathetic. — David Cronenberg

Speech as known to us was unnecessary. A fragment of a sentence amounted almost to a long-winded redundancy. A gesture, a grunt, the curve of a facial line
even a significantly timed pause yielded informational juice. — Isaac Asimov

The grunt pulled his collar up around his neck. "Butterfinger." "Yeah." Queho nodded, a smile spreading across his face. "Butterfinger. Good one. I liked that one. I always got the candy stuck between my teeth. Same with the Heath Bar." He picked at his teeth with his finger. "Not worth the effort." The grunt kept pace with Queho. The caravan was traveling more like an amorphous pack. The town's wide streets accommodated the disorganization as the posse clopped along. Queho was so preoccupied with Dairy Queen, he didn't notice. "I always got the chocolate chip cookie dough," Queho said, licking his lips. "Oh, that was good. And remember? They'd hold it upside down?" He held out his hand to pantomime a Dairy Queen clerk holding a cup of ice cream upside down. "That way you knew how thick they made it." The — Tom Abrahams

The other red-haired woman stepped forward with a regal grace that was impressive. "I'm Kiara Quiakides and the fiercely stern blond on my right is my husband Nykyrian. And we have other kids, but this," she rubbed her hand over her distended belly, "is the only one with us right now. The others are at home, hopefully not making their nannies too crazy." Nykyrian let out an intimidating grunt. "If Adron sets fire to his room one more time, I vote we make him live outside in a tent." Everyone laughed. Except Kiara who appeared to actually consider it. Ryn — Sherrilyn Kenyon

Before Westcliff could launch into an unwanted diatribe regarding Annabelle, Simon sought to distract him. "You don't seem to rub on well with Miss Bowman," he remarked.
As a diversionary tactic, the mention of Lillian Bowman was supremely effective.
Westcliff responded with a surly grunt. "The ill-mannered brat dared to imply that Miss Peyton's mishap was my fault," he said, pouring a brandy for himself.
Simon raised his brows. "How could it be your fault?"
"Miss Bowman seems to think that, as their host, it was my responsibility to ensure that my estate wasn't 'overrun with a plague of poisonous vipers,' as she put it."
"How did you reply?"
"I pointed out to Miss Bowman that the guests who choose to remain clothed when they venture out of doors don't usually seem to get bitten by adders."
Simon couldn't help grinning at that. — Lisa Kleypas

Romance
Make eye contact.
Show your form.
Strut.
Grunt.
Throw a stick.
Grunt some more.
Make some moves.
Romance is hard work.
It looks easy on TV.
I'm not sure I will ever get the hang of it. — Katherine Applegate

They lay on their heathery beds and listened to all the sounds of the night. They heard the little grunt of a hedgehog going by. They saw the flicker of bats overhead. They smelt the drifting scent of honeysuckle, and the delicious smell of wild thyme crushed under their bodies. A reed-warbler sang a beautiful little song in the reeds below, and then another answered. — Enid Blyton

Syn was so lost in the feelings it hadn't registered that Furi was nudging at his hole with something other than his tongue. It was blunt, slick, and cold. Syn stared down the bed, marveling at the look of complete confidence on Furi's face. When the object breached the first ring of muscle, opening him up, Syn let out a startled grunt. It wasn't a sound of pain, but of blissful relief. "Fuck, Furious." Syn had something inside him, this was it. Although it wasn't Furi's long cock, it still gave him the heady feeling of being taken. Furi looked up at him, watching him through strikingly dark hooded eyes as he slowly pushed the slick object in further. Syn was hyperaware of it curving inside of him, sliding against his walls. Fuck. Feels so fucking good. Damnit. If he'd only known. Syn was already addicted to the feeling and he wasn't even sure if this constituted sex. They were still in foreplay mode, they hadn't even gotten to penetration with Furi's cock yet. There — A.E. Via

So there was no explicit bonding. Certainly not the kind you might be expecting if you like films like The Parent Trap as much as Mizuko and I did. We watched it together once, and I dared to say that we were like two little Lindsay Lohans in the isolation cabin, to which she made a kind of grunt. — Olivia Sudjic

I looked at her quizzically. "No, why would you think so?"
She gave me a knowing smile. "'Cause he's never brought a girl here before, child. Not one who didn't need my help, leastways."
Oh! That pleased me, but I quashed it. "It's not like that. We, ah, we kind of work together. I'm not his, er, what I mean is, he's all yours if you want him!" I finished in an insane babble.
There was a disgruntled grunt from upstairs that didn't come from the girl. I cringed, but it was too late to take it back. — Jeaniene Frost

I love feeling strong. You pick up your daughter with ease while everyone else makes a little grunt when they pick up their kids. — John Krasinski

My definition of hip hop is taking elements from many other spheres of music to make hip hop. Whether it be breakbeat, whether it be the groove and grunt of James Brown or the pickle-pop sounds of Kraftwerk or Yellow Magic Orchestra, hip hop is also part of what they call hip-house now, or trip hop, or even parts of drum n' bass. — Afrika Bambaataa

I heard his hasty footsteps on the dock. I kept my head down. I heard the thump and felt it as he leaped down into the cockpit. I heard his grunt of consternation. He would have to find out, and find out quickly. — John D. MacDonald

Rose shifted her shopping bag off her lap and with a grunt levered her ponderous body upright; she smiled broadly at me, and with a cheery "Ta Gert, ta girls," she waddled towards the exit while I eased my shoulders in relief from the confining pressure of her body. God, what a huge woman. — E.R. Braithwaite

Criminal: You can suck my dick, motherfucker!

Detective Bridges: You suck mine! [shoves barrel of pistol in the Criminal's mouth] An' you get used to it, cause you get to Rykers you're gonna find a lot of dick on the goddamn menu! Now grunt twice for yes! You through bitchin'? — Garth Ennis

Manhattan in the morning is a living stream of Purpose; everyone's got a place to be and a problem on their mind. That doesn't mean it's and unfriendly place
just busy and preoccupied. Personally, I love it. I'm a social creature but there are times and places you just don't want to do more than grunt at your fellow human being. — Laura Anne Gilman