Head Scratched Quotes & Sayings

Dr. DeMarco nodded, motioning toward Carmine. "I'm thankful for the Mazda - damn thankful you didn't return it scratched," he said, glaring at his father. "I'm thankful to be out of that ridiculous boarding school. Thankful for music and my gun ... I fucking love my gun." Haven looked at him with surprise as Dr. DeMarco laughed. "It's a nice gun. I checked it out. A 1911 .45 ACP. Where'd you get it?"
Carmine shrugged. "Maybe I don't recall." "Fair enough," Dr. DeMarco said. "Are you done?" "Uh, I'm thankful for you all, even if you get on my nerves sometimes," Carmine said. "Oh, and orgasms ... definitely thankful for those." "That's enough," Dr. DeMarco said, shaking his head as he turned to her. "What are you thankful for, child?" She hesitated, her nerves running amuck. "Having food to eat. A bed to sleep in, too. — J.M. Darhower

Lean forward a little, my lord," Toot said instantly, and shouted, "Hey, Kernal Purpleweed! Come watch the Za Winter Lord Knight's back!"
I fought not to smile. "No, that's a metaphor," I said.
Toot frowned and scratched his head. "I don't know what it's for. — Jim Butcher

A hand in her hair, wrenching back her head. "What's my name?"
She scratched trails down his back. He didn't even wince. "My name, kitty. Say my name."
"Mr. Mud Stick, Muddie for short," she said, even as she rubbed herself against the hard thrust of his denim-covered erection, the roughness of the fabric an exquisite sensation. She would've liked naked skin even more, but he wasn't budging.
"Say it, or no cock for you today."
Her mouth fell open. "Fuck you."
"You'll be doing that shortly. — Nalini Singh

Fearghus entered what he now considered her chamber, but immediately ducked the book flung at his head. Clearly she'd been waiting for him. And she was not happy.
"He's the one supposed to be helping me," she roared at him.
"Did you just throw a book at me? In my own den?"
"Yes. And I'd throw it again!"
Fearghus scratched his head in confusion. He'd never met a human brave enough - or stupid enough, depending on your point of view - to challenge him. "But," he croaked out, amazed, "I'm a dragon."
"And I have tits. It means nothing to me! — G.A. Aiken

Ah-there's our boy!" Bill pointed at the head of the crowd as they neared the stadium.
A lean,muscular boy was running, faster than the others,his back to Luce. His hair was dark brown and shiny, his shoulders deeply tanned and painted with intersecting red-and-black bands. When he turned his head slightly to the left,Luce caught a quick glimpse of his profile.He was nothing like the Daniel she had left in her parents' backyard. And yet-
"Daniel!" Luce said. "He looks-"
"Different and also precisely the same?" Bill asked.
"Yes."
"That's his soul you recognize. Regardless of how you two may look on the outside,you'll always know each other's souls."
It hadn't occured to Luce until now how remarkable it was that the recognized Daniel in every life. Her soul found his. "That's ... beautiful."
Bill scratched at a scab on his arm with a gnarly claw. "If you say so. — Lauren Kate

What do you want in a woman, in life?'
I thought a moment ... 'The Rangers ... we began to describe one another in a few simple words: El es muy bueno para cabalgar el rio. Meaning, 'He'll do to ride the river with.' In Texan, it means, 'I'd trust him with my life.'
I scratched my head. 'I want someone to ride the river with. — Charles Martin

Myungsuh scratched his head and smiled. It was a bashful smile, but it spread from ear to ear. You couldn't help but smile, too, when you saw it. — Kyung-Sook Shin

Yes, you're adorable, aren't you? Are you a good boy, Snugglepumpkin?" Oberon wagged his tail and came over within petting distance. "Oh, yes, you are a good boy, yes, you are." She stopped making sense and instead made high-pitched squeals of delight as she scratched Oberon's giant head; the rest of us stood and watched as a woman with an advanced degree completely lost her mind. Okay, — Kevin Hearne

You can't just fly into the Great Coat, shoot your way into Bluewater, and take Kai and his father,' I told him.
'Why not?'
'Cause you can't. They'll killl you, for one thing.'
Ulysses scratched his beard. 'Hmm. Need a better plan. — Cameron Stracher

Vampire females are as good as extinct."
Thad was aghast. "No females?"
Natalya patted his shoulder. "You can date other species, Tiger. Don't you worry. I've already thought of some ladies to relieve you of your big V. One's a nymph - "
"Over my dead body," Regin said. "Two-bit hookers, every one of them."
Thad scratched his head. "Mr. Lothaire said every male needed a purring nymph or two chained to the foot of his
bed. As pets."
Natalya gasped. "All right, lad, no more talking to Lothaire. — Kresley Cole

I really didn't mean to steal it." Mr. Williams shook his head. He scratched at his chin nervously. "Why not? That's what they're there for. Tunes belong to everybody. So do stories. — Robert Holdstock

Leo scratched his head. Well, I dunno about enchiladas- "Enceladus" Piper corrected. Whatever. But Old Potty Face mentioned another name. Porpoise Fear, or something? — Rick Riordan

(Brett) "Making friends?"
She jerked, then her spine straightened into posture nuns would be proud of and she turned her head. "He's hard to resist, really." Another belly rub. "You're late."
He crouched down to sit on his heels, and his knees spanned to either side of her arms. Reaching around, he scratched Beans behind the ears. Brett was positive the dog actually sighed with happiness. "I've been here, just didn't think to look for you on the floor. — Jeanette Murray

She leaped onto the serpent's head and scratched and growled like a really angry black wig. — Rick Riordan

Gavin scratched his head, idly wondering what his father would tell him right about then. Probably steal the slave and run. Father's solution was always to steal and run. But he had a job to finish.
"All right," he said finally, "here's what we'll do. We'll pretend this night didn't happen."
That earned another sarcastic look. — Suzanna J. Linton

Glancing over at Jon, he wondered whether their shaky, three-part arrangement would survive the truth of Baltsaros's compulsion. He scratched the back of his head, turning the metal collar as he thought. If it did spell the end, would he be made to choose? The thought sobered him, and he drifted closer to Jon's side as they walked towards the brightly lit inn. Tom reached out and let his knuckles graze Jon's arm, a hidden touch just to ground him for the span of a heartbeat. Maybe Jon would turn a blind eye. Maybe they'd continue to live in denial that they both loved a fucking monster. Jon smiled at the brief caress, and Tom felt his chest get tight. Love was a bloody, fucking headache. — Bey Deckard

You both passed out," Percy said. "I don't know why, but Ella told me not to worry about it. She said you were ... sharing?"
"Sharing," Ella agreed. She crouched in the stern, preening her wing feathers with her teeth, which didn't look like a very effective form of personal hygiene. She spit out some red fluff. "Sharing is good. No more blackouts. Biggest American blackout, August 14, 2003. Hazel shared. No more blackouts."
Percy scratched his head. "Yeah ... we've been having conversations like that all night. I still don't know what she's talking about. — Rick Riordan

way." The giant scratched his head and looked doubtful. — Mary Lasswell

Nor did I respond with the obvious, that my brother might very well go to jail, probably would someday, but he would never ever call. Three words were scratched in ballpoint blue on the wall above the phone. Think a head. I thought how that was good advice, but maybe a bit late for anyone using that phone. I thought how it would be a good name for a beauty salon. — Karen Joy Fowler

Prit?" she asked. "The boy you bullied in school?"

Emery scratched the back of his head. "'Bullied' sounds so juvenile . . ."

"But it's him, isn't it?" Ceony pushed. "Pritwin Bailey? He became a Folder after all?"

Emery nodded. "We graduated from Praff together, actually. But yes, he's the same."

Ceony relaxed somewhat. "So you two are on good terms, then?"

The paper magician barked a laugh. "Oh, heavens no. We haven't spoken to each other since Praff, save for this telegram. He quite loathes me, actually."

Ceony's eyes bugged. "And you're sending me to test with him?"

Emery smiled. "Of course, in a few days. What better way to prove you had no bias than to place your career aspirations in the hands of Pritwin Bailey?"

Ceony stared at him a long moment. "I've been shot to hell, haven't I?"

"Language, love. — Charlie N. Holmberg

He's a gem, sir. I wish I had one just like him." He rattled the ring of keys on Artemis's belt. "And what are these?" Artemis scratched his head. "Uh, keys? — Eoin Colfer

Who was the first man that scratched his head? For to my thinking it must have been our father Adam. — Miguel De Cervantes Saavedra

I opened my eyes to find a fuzzy face staring into mine. I laughed and scratched Boomer's head. "Your dog is a pervert, he watched the whole thing. — E.M. Denning

from where she scratched. The Attor and the guards rushed for the queen, but several faeries and High Fae, their masks clattering to the ground, jumped into their path, tackling them. Amarantha screeched, kicking at Tamlin, lashing at him with her dark magic, but a wall of gold encompassed his fur like a second skin. She couldn't touch him. "Tam!" Lucien cried over the chaos. A sword hurtled through the air, a shooting star of steel. Tamlin caught it in a massive paw. Amarantha's scream was cut short as he drove the sword through her head and into the stone beneath. And then closed his powerful jaws around her throat - and ripped it out. Silence fell. — Sarah J. Maas

Travis sighed. "I just said that because," he scratched his short hair nervously, "I don't want to ruin anything, Pigeon. I wouldn't even know how to go about being who you deserve. I was just trying to get it worked out in my head. — Jamie McGuire

When he went to PARC for his formal interview, Kay was asked what he hoped his great achievement there would be. "A personal computer," he answered. Asked what that was, he picked up a notebook-size portfolio, flipped open its cover, and said, "This will be a flat-panel display. There'll be a keyboard here on the bottom, and enough power to store your mail, files, music, artwork, and books. All in a package about this size and weighing a couple of pounds. That's what I'm talking about." His interviewer scratched his head and muttered to himself, "Yeah, right." But Kay got the job. — Walter Isaacson

One day God felt he ought to give his workshop a spring-clean ... . It was amazing what ragged bits and pieces came out from under his workbench as he swept. Beginnings of creatures, bits that looked useful but had seemed wrong, ideas that he'd mislaid and forgotten ... . There was even a tiny lump of sun. He scratched his head. What could be done with all this rubbish? Ted Hughes, "Leftovers," from The Dreamfighter — Cornelia Funke

So what are you supposed to do with it?"
He eyed her incredulously. "For real? It's called a butt plug. What do you think you're supposed to do with it?"
She scratched her nose and nodded, trying not to let the apprehension show. "Okay. I'll do it. But if it hurts, just let me know and I'll take it out, stat. Don't be a hero."
He gaped at her and shook his head. "Aw, no. Sweetie. That's not for me. — Christine Bell

The goat gave a high, questioning bleat. It was staked out in the middle of the boneyard. It was a brown-and-white-spotted goat with those strange yellow eyes they sometimes have. It had floppy white ears and seemed to like having the tope of its head scratched. Larry had petted it in the Jeep on the drive over. Always a bad idea. Never get friendly with the sacrifices. Makes it hard to kill them.
I had not petted the goat. I knew better. This was Larry's first goat. He'd learn. Hard or easy, he'd learn. There were two more goats at the bottom of the hill. One of them was even smaller and cuter than this one. — Laurell K. Hamilton

Smiling at me ruefully, Luka scratched the back of his head. "Yeah, I guess you can." He sauntered toward the sliding doors. "I'll be right outside if you need me. Call if you get dizzy."
"You'll probably just hear a very loud thump."
He frowned at my joke. "Not funny."
"Luka?" He stopped. "Thank you for keeping an eye on me."
"Just ... " He tsked. "Just don't scare me like that again. — Kate Evangelista

Why hello!" she said, and the dog jumped and pressed its front paws against her knees, then actually licked her with a dry, paper tongue. Ceony laughed and scratched behind its ears. It panted with excitement. "Wherever did you come from?"
The door squeaked again, announcing Mg. Thane's arrival. He looked a little tired, but no worse for wear, and still wore that long indigo coat. "This one won't give me hives," he said with a smile that beamed in his eyes. "It's not the same, but I thought it would do, for now."
Wide-eyed, Ceony slowly stood, the paper dog yapping in its whispery voice and nudging her ankles with its muzzle. "You made this?" she asked, feeling her ribs knit over her lungs. "This . . . this is what you were doing last night?"
He scratched the back of his head. "Were you up? I apologize - I'm not used to having others in the house again. — Charlie N. Holmberg

The simultaneous scream sounded from teh twins. Borth clasped their hands over their mouths, their eyes wide with horror. Azalea followed their gaze.
There, in patches of light, scratched-up Fairweller held a weeping clover in his arms, cradling her head against his shoulder. He murmured into her ear.
Delphinium screamed.
"Oh, Clover, how could you?" said Eve.
"Is he a good kisser?" said Hollyhock.
The King had no words as he strode to them. In an instant he had torn Fairweller away from Clover, wound up, and boxed Fairweller straight in the face.
Fairweller stumbled backward and fell to the floor, glass crunching beneath him.
"You may fill out your resignation paperwork tomorrow," said the King. "ExPrime Minister Fairweller! — Heather Dixon

I'm quick," Leo said. "And lucky. Now, am I on this quest, or what?"
Jason scratched his head. "You named him Festus? You know that in Latin, 'festus' means 'happy'? You want us to ride off to save the world on Happy the Dragon?"
The dragon twitched and shuddered and flapped his wings.
"That's a yes, bro!" Leo said. — Rick Riordan

Yeah no shit, try asking random people about a bird owned by someone you don't know!" Javal countered "Well still you got it!" Javal acknowledged this with a small grin "Now what?" Javal asked Ingra scratched his head "Yeah...Well Dilmore suggested the idea....Not me. — Charon Lloyd-Roberts

Little sleep's-head sprouting hair in the moonlight,
when I come back
we will go out together,
we will walk out together among,
the ten thousand things,
each scratched too late with such knowledge, the wages of dying is love. — Galway Kinnell

The moment our bodies hit, she fought like a caged tigress. She scratched, bit, kicked, and clawed. I landed a solid punch to her chin, knocking her witless for a few seconds. Those seconds were all that I needed. I steadied my gun and fired. As the stunned woman lay motionless, I pushed to my feet. Jaxon, Ghost, and Kittie all watched me expectantly. Lilla appeared distraught, as if I might attack her next, and Kyrin was shaking his head in exasperation. "Can you not go one day without using your fists?" he asked. — Gena Showalter

Then you'll feel your cheek scratched ...
A little kiss, like a crazy spider,
Will run round your neck ...
And you'll say to me : "Find it !" bending your head
- And we'll take a long time to find that creature
- Which travels a lot ... — Arthur Rimbaud

Helene, why did you even choose this field of study? Philosophy? The thing is, you double majored in psychology and philosophy in your undergraduate studies, but then you chose to pursue your doctorate in philosophy rather than psychology. There's a reason for that."
"Because, I like ... " I scratched my head as I let myself drop back into the sofa cushions, and then I sighed. "I like that nothing is black and white. I like that I can let my mind go and explore even the most basic of concepts as though my thoughts and feelings are as important as ... as ... Schopenhauer and Hume. I don't have to accept that there's a right and wrong answer. I can believe and feel that there are so many more shades of truth. — Elizabeth Finn

Don't seem right, do it?" said Topper.

"It ain't right," replied Fin. "Not at all."

Jack guzzled his wine and wiped at his beard. "Mayhap it's right and we can't see it..."

Topper scratched his bald head and hummed in thought. "Still don't seem right," he proclaimed when he'd hummed enough.

Jack dropped his flagon to the deck and it rolled away clattering. "Yeah, well, what seems ain't always what is. — A.S. Peterson

The cat jumps up on the bed and tries to get onto my head. It's his way of telling whether or not i'm dead. If i'm not, he wants to be scratched; if i am - he'll think of something — Margaret Atwood

They didn't want to take the crew-cab back to town, because they didn't want to sit where those guys had sat, so they rode the backhoe, as before, Westwood driving, Reacher and Chang face to face above his head, but this time on the dirt road. Which was slow, but more comfortable. They parked in the dealer's lot. The salesman came out. The backhoe was examined. It was a little stained by crushed wheat, and a little scratched on the sides. There was a little dirt caked on. And the front bucket had a dimple, where the bullet had struck. Not new anymore. Not exactly. Reacher gave the guy five grand from their leftover money. Easy come, easy go. Then — Lee Child

Dorothy scratched her dark head, yawning wide, and white feathers floated out of her hair. — Laurie Lee

Sespian opened his mouth, paused, closed it, then shook his head ruefully. "It's very easy to be drawn into what you're saying, and I catch myself wanting to nod and agree. Maybe I should take notes on your technique."
Amaranthe blushed and felt like she should stutter an apology, but she hadn't done anything to be embarrassed about, had she?
"It's her eyes", Sicarius said, startling her..
Yara glanced over her shoulder at him, apparently, surprised to hear him speak, but soon turned her attention back to the tracks. She seemed to be believe she should remain silent for the discussion.
Sespian scratched his jaw. "Yes, maybe so. They're like a doe's. Warm and earnest and ... "
"Wholesome. Sicarius's eyes glinted, and Amaranthe scowled at him. — Lindsay Buroker

The wiry man scratched his head, looked the two inquisitors up and down and cleared his throat softly. "We must be quick." He turned to go, pulling his cloak over his head and shuffling through the door into the moonlight. The two inquisitors moved with impossible silence behind, floating across the straw-covered floor like the cats on the walls outside the hut. The cats froze at the disturbance before scurrying noiselessly into the shadows as the three silhouettes crossed the ten yards of grass before the blackness of the forest swallowed them. No fires flickered at this time, when the full moon was highest in the cloudless summer sky, and the three were the only waking souls in the hamlet. — Gregory Figg