Her Pretty Legs Quotes & Sayings

Beautiful day out there," I said, perching on the stool and crossing my legs. "It's autumn, Sunday, great weather, and crowded everywhere you go. Relaxing indoors like this is the best thing you can do on such a nice day. It's exhausting to get into those crowds. And the air is bad. I mostly do laundry on Sundays - wash the stuff in the morning, hang it out on the roof of my dorm, take it in before the sun goes down, do a good job of ironing it. I don't mind ironing at all. There's a special satisfaction in making wrinkled things smooth. And I'm pretty good at it, too. Of course, I was lousy at it at first. I put creases in everything. After a month of practice, though, I knew what I was doing. So Sunday is my day for laundry and ironing. I couldn't do it today, of course. Too bad: wasted a perfect laundry day. — Haruki Murakami

I'm a giraffe. I even walk like a giraffe with a long neck and legs. It's a pretty dumb animal, mind you. — Sophia Loren

The Open is the one that we all want and strive for and to be able to hold this Claret Jug is an incredible feeling. To be three legs towards the career grand slam at the age of 25 is a pretty good achievement. It's not going to sink in for a while. — Rory McIlroy

I prefer girls to wear dresses because I like how they influence a woman's body language. I also love skirts. One of my favorite pieces of clothing is the pencil skirt because it obliges the wearer to have a pretty attitude. I like anything that shows a woman's legs because I love to see her skin and how she walks. — Christian Louboutin

Motivating yourself, I think having big strong legs, that's pretty cool. Having a big VMOs [the teardrop-shaped muscle above your knee] is always nice. But, the thing is, when you see guys who are clearly gym junkies who only do bicep curls all day every day, and you see them walking down the street ... 'Mate, what about the legs?'. — Greg Rutherford

Hands down, that's the most romantic thing I've ever heard. I can pretty much feel my legs just falling wide open for you right now. — Kylie Scott

[She was] sitting across from us, her legs pressed together to one side, like a slash mark. Pretty/professional. — Gillian Flynn

And your words ... "
"Tell me about my words."
"They make me crazy."
"Which ones, specifically?"
"All of them. Any of them."
"So mostly 'and', and 'when', and 'if'."
It's another challenge, ten hurdles high. I can clear it, though. I can.
"No. Mostly 'sex' and 'pleasure' and the way you just said 'wet'."
"Like it excites me."
"Yes. Exactly, yes."
"Like I want you to tell me all about that slippery seam between your legs, and how eager you must be to have someone lick their way over it."
"Oh, God, yes."
"And how I would, if I were there. I'd kiss your pussy until you forgot every little sliver of that restraint, play with your nipples to make them so pretty and stiff, slide my fingers inside you just as I think you might be doing now. Are you? — Charlotte Stein

I have very long legs and I hate driving anything unless it's a boat or an ATV in the jungle. I like to sit in the back of a car, where I can look out the window, answer my emails on my iPad, or hold hands with a pretty girl. — Jean Pigozzi

Why, aren't you just about as sweet as syrup on a sundae? I sure would appreciate that, ma'am." He winked. "How'd you like ta stroll the deck of this fine ship with me and watch the sunset? I need a purty girl to put her arm around me and steady this bow-legged cowboy as he finds his sea legs." I raised an eyebrow and affected a southern accent. "Why, I think you're a pullin' my leg there, Texas. You've had your sea legs a lot longer than I have." He rubbed the stubble on his face. "You might be right at that. Well then, how about you taggin' along to keep me warm?" "It's about eighty degrees." "Shoot, you're a smart one, you are. Then how 'bout I jes say that a feller can get pretty lonesome by hisself in a strange country and he'd like to keep compn'y with you fer a while longer. — Colleen Houck

She's so pretty, isn't she? Beautiful, really. That prefect skin, those long legs. And that hair! It's so black. Black as a raven's feather, that's what my mother used to say. Do you know, Ellie, what a group of ravens is called? [...] It's called an Unkindness. Isn't that strange? An Unkindness. Well... it's something to think about. — Amy S. Foster

As a teenager, I was teased at school about my height and long legs, but now they are my best assets. Kids can be mean. When I was at school, I considered myself ugly, but that was when I was silly enough to believe that what other people thought mattered. Now I think I am pretty. I'm not beautiful. There is a difference. — Jasmine Guinness

Dani had threatened to kill him. This must be the way she planned to do it. Her dark hair was down around her shoulders and she was wearing earrings that glittered in the sunlight. The purple dress she had on showed off her toned legs and hugged her curves. The supply of oxygen to his brain cut off, and he was pretty sure his heart had stopped a couple of beats ago. — Cindi Madsen

I cross my legs beneath me and trace a finger along the laces of my boot. "That dress I had on was pretty. It's a pity I had to rip it apart."

"Yeah. It was entertaining to watch though."

"To watch?" I fold my arms over my chest. "Weren't you wrestling on the floor at the time?"

A grin lifts one side of Ryn's mouth. "I can multitask, remember? And girls tearing their clothes off is something I try not to miss."

I glare at him. "Have I told you before that you're gross?"

"On multiple occasions."

(from The Faerie Guardian by Rachel Morgan) — Rachel Morgan

Whatever her name was, she was pretty. She had a thick, careless braid of chestnut hair, a quick smile, and dark, merry eyes. She wore some kind of a fuzzy lavender pullover, and when she crossed her legs and lifted her guitar onto her lap, she had an interesting way of tucking the foot of the bottom leg back under her chair that made Hector feel melty. He looked away in self-preservation. — Lynne Rae Perkins

Trick." I say a little louder.
"Shhh, sleep baby." He mumbles. I laugh and smack his arm.
"Wake up. I can feel your morning wood." This gets his attention and he sits up, taking me with him. The arms wrapped around my middle graze my breasts as he shifts up and a tingle shoots straight between my legs.
"God, Caroline, I'm so ... " He stops, probably realizing that he doesn't have morning wood, "I don't have ... " He's actually pretty cute all sleepy. He laughs.
"I know but I couldn't figure out how else to get your attention." I shrug. — K. Larsen

Running isn't a sport for pretty boys ... It's about the sweat in your hair and the blisters on your feet. Its the frozen spit on your chin and the nausea in your gut. It's about throbbing calves and cramps at midnight that are strong enough to wake the dead. It's about getting out the door and running when the rest of the world is only dreaming about having the passion that you need to live each and every day with. It's about being on a lonely road and running like a champion even when there's not a single soul in sight to cheer you on. Running is all about having the desire to train and persevere until every fiber in your legs, mind, and heart is turned to steel. And when you've finally forged hard enough, you will have become the best runner you can be. And that's all that you can ask for. — Paul Maurer

For a quarter of a century, I've been playing baseball for pay. It has been pretty good pay, most of the time. The work has been hard, but what of it? It's been risky. I've broken both my legs. I've sprained everything I've got between my ankles and my disposition. I've dislocated my joints and fractured my pride. — Rabbit Maranville

When they see the light at the end of the tunnel, some people run towards it. I, however, run from it as fast as I can because I know that it's attatched to a speeding train coming in our direction. And if I were you, staring at that light drooling and saying "Ooh, pretty," I would run as fast as my legs could carry me, because I don't plan on dying early with the rest of you fools. — Stephanie Tom

My legs are nice, my lips are shapely, and my breasts are pretty. They popped up when I was 11 and they weren't small then. I was teased, but now those kids wish they had what I have! — Queen Latifah

As attentive readers may have noted, the standard narrative of heterosexual interaction boils down to prostitution: a woman exchanges her sexual services for access to resources. Maybe mythic resonance explains part of the huge box-office appeal of a film like Pretty Woman, where Richard Gere's character trades access to his wealth in exchange for what Julia Roberts's character has to offer (she plays a hooker with a heart of gold, if you missed it). Please note that what she's got to offer is limited to the aforementioned heart of gold, a smile as big as Texas, a pair of long, lovely legs, and the solemn promise that they'll open only for him from now on. The genius of Pretty Woman lies in making explicit what's been implicit in hundreds of films and books. According to this theory, women have evolved to unthinkingly and unashamedly exchange erotic pleasure for access to a man's wealth, protection, status, and other treasures likely to benefit her and her children. — Christopher Ryan

I got lost somehow, began staring up her legs. I was always a leg man. It was the first thing I saw when I was born. But then I was trying to get out. Ever since I have been working in the other direction and with pretty lousy luck. — Charles Bukowski

I also gotta tell ya that you look pretty hot in your black swimming suit you're wearing." Tucker looking behind me, I'm sure at my butt.
I started laughing so hard; my face flamed up and burned my cheeks from my smile.
"It's a leotard, Tucker," I smirked.
"Oh, you're such a smartass," Just then, Tucker grabbed me and held me up in his strong arms and I was able to wrap my legs around his waist. — Nichele Reese

Waxing my legs is pretty much the only thing I have to maintain. — Amanda Seyfried

You think I don't know what I want? You think I love the idea of relying on my looks for life? No! It's pathetic! In my head, I have a nice, quiet, normal job that involves me running my own business. I carry a briefcase around my office with important documents, I have a nice assistant who calls me boss, and people ask me questions - they ask for my advice because I matter! I'm important to them! I'm recognized as something more than a pretty face and a pair of legs. I have a brain and interests and thoughts about religion, and poverty, and economics. I'm not a miserable girl with a number attached to her chest, stripping her clothes off in a room full of people. — Elisa Marie Hopkins

All around the smell of that necro-smoke, that nether-weed. And up and at the hedonist impulse, rejoice, rejoice, in the disconnect my pretty things, fly monkeys, fly! The hip chick in the back, her legs uncrossed to let in air and let out pretention as the lights are down and it's not necessary, nor should it be even with the lights up, all around faces, turned away and yet minds knowing, knowing there is a presence, a power about the room, the charge is different than it was before this small chick came in. Rejoice, simpatico, rejoice. It's her night. A night of the explosion. Pow - bang-ka-boom and yet it's whispered and yet it's heard through the walls at 3 A.M. by attentive ears and hands clenching in the frustration of being unsolicited by the owner of this spectacle. A woman's sigh of ecstasy, and his tears at being not the cause. — Benjamin R. Smith

I'm about to take a shower because I smell like an all-nighter, then I think I'll take a bath so I can have a faucet orgasm. After all, I didn't get any last night. A faucet orgasm is pretty much the same principle as a bidet orgasm except upside-down. When we were growing up we had bidets in all the bathrooms and when I was about ten I accidentally discovered one of the things they were good for. After that I used to spend hours on the damn thing. This dump we rent doesn't have a bidet so I have to get in the tub and slide up toward the front, running my legs up the wall on either side of the faucet. Turn on the warm water and smile. Actually, you've got to get the water temperature just right first or you could really be in for a nasty shock. I've made that mistake a few times. This time I get it just right and I come three times before I get around to actually taking a bath. — Jay McInerney

Tell me, as a pagan, who do you worship?'
'Worship?'
'That's right. I imagine you must have a pretty wide open field. So to whom do you set up your household altar? To whom do you bow down? To whom do you pray to at dawn and at dusk?'
'The female principle. It's an empowerment thing. You know.'
'Indeed. And this female principle of yours. Does she have a name?'
'She's the goddess within us all. She doesn't need a name.'
'Ah,' said Wednesday, with a wide monkey grin, 'so do you hold mighty bacchanals in her honour? Do you drink blood wine under the full moon, while scarlet candles burn in silver candle holders? Do you step naked into the seafoam, chanting ecstactically to your nameless goddess while the waves lick at your legs, lapping your thighs like the tongues of a thousand leopards? — Neil Gaiman

Every time Mulder smiles, people say, 'God, it was great to see you smile. Mulder never smiles.' I say, 'Mulder smiles a whole lot. He smiles at least once a show.' People get these ideas in their heads and they're impossible to shake. But, to be honest with you, Mulder is every bit as vulnerable and quirky as Ally McBeal. I think Mulder has pretty good legs, too. — David Duchovny

Furniture, my good husband," she said, her mouth full of food, "that be too pretty is without pure thought. Tables with turned and carved legs only encourage the devil to dine."
My father stared at her, bewildered.
This house needs to be made ready for the second coming of the Lord Jesus Christ, for when he returns to our fair city and takes his rightful place as king, he'll be needing a good meal in a godly home. Do not you agree, husband?"
My father was speechless. Maud, in no way put off by his silence, said, "He will be very hungry. It has been a long time since the Last Supper. — Sally Gardner

Two-legged creatures we are supposed to love as we love ourselves. The four-legged, also, can come to seem pretty important. But six legs are too many from the human standpoint. — Joseph Wood Krutch

You could always industrialize," she refilled Jimmy's wine glass. "You know, get a job stunning chickens in a factory to earn the trust of the working class." Jimmy laughed again and accidentally spat Chablis on my legs. "It's a pretty silly idea, isn't it?" said Grace, getting a rag. "Leaping out of the closet in a crisis?" She lowered her voice, "Don't worry, sir. I'm a revolutionary socialist. Everything's going to be okay. — Vanessa Veselka

I'm three legs toward completing the career Grand Slam at 25. So, I'm feeling pretty good right now. — Rory McIlroy

A child dragging bent useless legs is crawling up the hill outside the village. Nose to the stones, goat dung, and muddy trickles, she pulls herself along like a broken cricket. We falter, ashamed of our strong step, and noticing this, she gazes up, clear-eyed, without resentment - it seems much worse that she is pretty. In Bengal, GS says stiffly, beggars will break their children's knees to achieve this pitiable effect for business purposes: this is his way of expressing his distress. But the child that lies here at our boots is not a beggar; she is merely a child, staring in curiosity at tall, white strangers. I long to give her something - a new life? - yet am afraid to tamper with such dignity. And so I smile as best I can, and say "Namas-te!" "Good morning!" How absurd! And her voice follows as we go away, a small clear smiling voice - "Namas-te!" - a Sanskrit word for greeting and parting that means, "I salute you". — Peter Matthiessen

He leaned in even closer until she could count the bristles on his poorly shaven chin. "But you're pretty. You can stay. Turn around and spread your legs so I can fuck you up against the wire. I'll get my cock in you so deep it'll need a directory to find its way out."
"That sounds ... dangerous."
"I am," he rumbled sexily, like a waterfall that's had a dam collapse upstream and is about to flood and destroy the village of peasants further downstream ... many of whom are poor and in desperate need of medical attention. — Cari Silverwood

I want to taste all of you. Shove that pretty dress up to your waist and bury my face between your legs. I want to make you come so hard you can barely walk afterward. — Katie Reus

A faint sheen of perspiration made Simone's face glow, and every part of him felt warm and alive. I want you, he thought. God, I want you. He used his free hand to cup the side of her face. Her skin was so soft ... so dewy and creamy and perfect. He wanted to touch every inch of her. He wanted to lick the salt sheen from her breasts and her belly and her legs. He wanted to taste the deep places. — Abigail Strom

I hoped they couldn't run very fast with those stubby little legs and flippers, but they waddled along pretty well. — Rick Riordan

Let's see ... I have a thing for pretty legs. But most importantly, I like confident women. — Theo James

I got into acting so that I could meet girls. Pretty girls came later. First, I wanted to start off with someone with two legs, who'd smile at me and look soft. — Dustin Hoffman

Johnson seemed to have a playbook memorized. He mumbled things like, "Pleasure, apply pressure, female gratification." And bent her legs to accomplish some pretty spectacular sexual Twister poses. One in particular had Dove ratcheted up like a street dancer with twenty years' experience. — Debra Anastasia

He pointed toward the silhouettes on the side of the [bathrooms] instead
black cutout man, black cutout woman. The man had his legs apart, the woman had hers together. Pretty much the story of the human race in sign language. — Stephen King

The look on his face in that moment made my legs shake and my core clench. I was pretty sure Sebastian Badd was about to fuck me senseless. — Jasinda Wilder

I'm an American actor. I work with my clothes on. I have to. Riding a horse can be pretty tough on your legs and elsewheres. — John Wayne

Grandma Mazur stood two feet back from my mother. "I gotta get me a pair if those," she said, eyeballing my shorts. "I've still got pretty good legs, you know." She raised her skirt and looked down at her knees. "What do you think? You think I'd look good in them biker things?" Grandma Mazur had knees like doorknobs. — Janet Evanovich

All the suits I buy have to be tailored, no matter what. But it's not just because of my height; it's because I've been skating for so long. My waist is very small, but my legs are just huge. Most really nice suit makers are Italian, and usually they make suit pants for Italian men. I'm like, 'Those Italians must have pretty skinny legs.' — Apolo Ohno

On the girl's brown legs there were many small white scars. I was thinking, Do those scars cover the whole of you, like the stars and the moons on your dress? I thought that would be pretty too, and I ask you right here please to agree with me that a scar is never ugly. That is what the scar makers want us to think. But you and I, we must make an agreement to defy them. We must see all scars as beauty. Okay? This will be our secret. Because take it from me, a scar does not form on the dying. A scar means, I survived. — Chris Cleave

Women are, of course, more intelligent. Have you ever heard of a woman that would lose her head only because a man has pretty legs? — Faina Ranevskaya

When we play the game like we're supposed to play it, it is pretty easy. Making the extra pass, making the simple play, it's not about between your legs, behind your back, and all of that, it's just about scoring the bucket. — Karl Malone

There was one obvious solution to this problem, but it involved me uttering four inconceivable words to Seth Allen. This was not going to be pretty.
"Take off your pants," I mumbled in Seth's direction.
"What?" Seth's voice was shrill as it cracked.
"Your pants. Take them off." I spoke louder now, impatient.
"But...I'll be naked and cold, and I still haven't had the chance to bulk up my legs at the gym so I'm just not sure..."
I cut Seth off with with my best "Are you effing kidding me?" Face and jerked my head towards Maddie in the backseat.
"Oh, right, I get it. Maddie needs pants and I have them, so I'll just go ahead and, um, well, strip down. Could you..." Seth's cheeks went up in twin flames. — Lisa Roecker

Rose leaned against the bathroom door. Here it was - her real life, the truth of who she was, barreling down on her like a bus with bad brakes. Here was the truth - she wasn't the kind of person Jim could fall in love with. She wasn't what she'd made herself out to be - a cheerful, uncomplicated girl, a normal girl with a happy, orderly life, a girl who wore pretty shoes and had nothing more pressing on her mind that whether ER was a rerun this week. The truth was in the exercise tape she didn't have time to unwrap, let alone exercise to; the truth was her hairy legs and ugly underwear. Most of all, the truth was her sister, her gorgeous, messed-up, fantastically unhappy and astoundingly irresponsible sister. — Jennifer Weiner

I wrote 90 percent of the record in prison. A lot of people wonder, "How the hell did you do that?" I just pretty much played drums on my legs with my hands and while I did that, I would hum the guitar parts and sing the melodies of the songs. — Ronnie Radke

From her vantage point, looking up at [Ian] through the water-spotted and slightly blurry lenses of her glasses, he was quite literally larger than life. Right at that moment, with his hands up on his head, his muscular chest bare, and his boxer shorts clinging to him in a most revealing way, water matting the hair on his chest and his legs and his eyelashes, he was ridiculously attractive. Even with his more conventionally handsome brother standing next to him.
Of course the fact that Aaron was looking down at her with unconcealed dislike in his pretty hazel eyes might've had something to with it, as if she weren't a person but instead a pile of excrement left on his pool deck by a wart-covered troll with an intestinal ailment. — Suzanne Brockmann

What went on between you and my mom? Did you seduce all the Liddell women? Did you tell them the same pretty words you told me?" I curl my legs beneath my dress, feeling small and vulnerable for even asking.
Morpheus scoots aside some glass with his boot and kneels. He takes my hand in his. "I've known but three generations of Liddell women. Counting the ones in London, there's been twenty or so. Most were oblivious and unreachable - they didn't hear the nether-call. The others weren't strong enough to face their lineage without losing their minds. As for Alison, she and I were business partners. There has never been more than that between us. There's only one Liddell I desire, only one who earns my undying devotion." He works a fingertip into the lace at my elbow and drags off the glove. "The one who was my truest friend ... who took my place and braved the attack that was meant for me." — A.G. Howard

The wrap party for the 'Lorna Doone' TV series was pretty special. We went to about four clubs, then four people's houses, and I got home at midday the next day. I'd been wearing ridiculous green shoes all night, and the dye had smudged all over my legs. — Amelia Warner

I shall be as willing as the next man to fall down in worship before the System, if only I can manage to set eyes on it. Hitherto I have had no success; and though I have young legs, I am almost weary from running back and forth ...
Once or twice I have been on the verge of bending the knee. But at the last moment, when I already had my handkerchief spread on the ground, to avoid soiling my trousers, and I made a trusting appeal to one of the initiated who stood by: "Tell me now sincerely, is it entirely finished; for if so I will kneel down before it, even at the risk of ruining a pair of trousers (for on account of the heavy traffic to and from the system, the road has become quite muddy)," - I always receive the same answer: "No, it is not yet quite finished." And so there was another postponement - of the system, and of my homage.
System and finality are pretty much one and the same, so much so that if the system is not finished, there is no system. — Soren Kierkegaard

Everyone has setbacks. I'm no different. I happen to have no legs. That's pretty much the fact. — Oscar Pistorius

He saw then that there was a lens at one end, disguised as a dewdrop in the throat of an asphodel. Gently he took the egg in his hands, closed one eye, and looked. The light of the interior was not, as he had half expected, gold tinted, but brilliantly white, deriving from some concealed source. A world surely meant for Earth shone within, as though seen from below the orbit of the moon - indigo sea and emerald land. Rivers brown and clear as tea ran down long plains. His mother said, "Isn't it pretty?" Night hung at the corners in funereal purple, and sent long shadows like cold and lovely arms to caress the day; and while he watched and it fell, long-necked birds of so dark a pink that they were nearly red trailed stilt legs across the sky, their wings making crosses. — Gene Wolfe

Thank God she wasn't wearing shorts. She hadn't shaved her legs in a week, theorizing that October in the mountains was pretty darn cold and she might need the extra layer of insulation. — Victoria Dahl

I got things like the lotus position long before anybody else did, or at least in the mainstream. But I had fun. I guess my legs are pretty flexible, so I used to get a kick out of doing things like that. I would get into a full lotus with my legs and then roll around. — John Astin

My legs tightened up pretty much, and it was a hard last corner for me. — Bonnie Blair

Hapi?" I asked.
"Why, yes, I am happy!" Hapi beamed. "I'm always happy because I'm Hapi! Are you happy?"
Zia frowned up at the giant. "Does he have to be so big?"
The god laughed. Immediately he shrank down to human size, though the crazy cheerful look on his face was still pretty unnerving.
"Oh, Setne!" Hapi chuckled and pushed the ghost playfully. "I hate this guy. Absolutely despise him!"
Hapi's smile became painfully wide. "I'd love to rip off your arms and legs, Setne. That would be amazing!"
Setne ... drifted a little farther away from the smiling god.
"Oh!" Hapi clapped excitedly. "The world is going to end tomorrow. I forgot!"
"You'd never get to Memphis without my help. You'd get torn into a million pieces!"
He seemed genuinely pleased to share that news. — Rick Riordan

I can put my legs behind my head, but that's pretty much it. An early agent said to me, 'If you can put your legs behind your head, let's say you're a contortionist!' So I got sent out for everything twisty and bendy. It's a good conversation starter. — Doug Jones

When I was in high school, I ran hurdles, but I was really short, so I'd barely clear them. I was pretty quick, but I had little legs, so I had to take 50 steps in between each hurdle. — Chris Kirkpatrick

This was a pretty girl, except she had legs like an Edwardian grand piano ... — Kurt Vonnegut

I can tell you that "Just cheer up" is almost universally looked at as the most unhelpful depression cure ever. It's pretty much the equivalent of telling someone who just had their legs amputated to "just walk it off." Some people don't understand that for a lot of us, mental illness is a severe chemical imbalance rather just having "a case of the Mondays." Those same well-meaning people will tell me that I'm keeping myself from recovering because I really "just need to cheer up and smile." That's when I consider chopping off their arms and then blaming them for not picking up their severed arms so they can take them to the hospital to get reattached. — Jenny Lawson

In my gym class, we had something called The Pit, this little alcove where we had to sit if we forgot our gym clothes. It was usually just the crippled kid, the pregnant girl, and me. It was pretty awkward, just hanging with all these freaks who didn't want to show their legs. — Danny McBride

Scarlett doesn't want to go to the hospital. Not surprising, really, since we have to come up with an elaborate story about how we all got so severely wounded.
"Dogfight. We broke one up," my sister answers for us as a horrified emergency room receptionist looks at Scarlett's raw, bleeding shoulders.
"Dogs dislike us." Silas shrugs, clutching the wound on his chest. He glances down at the burn wounds on my legs. I think they might scar, but it's hard to say. The receptionist speaks into a walkie-talkie, then lets her eyes travel from the fresh wounds to the ancient scars on Scarlett's body.
"Dogs pretty much hate me," Scarlett says testily. The poor receptionist looks relieved when the ER doctors appear and usher us down the hall. — Jackson Pearce

I don't know if I'm particularly funny, I mean one of my legs is shorter than the other one, it makes everything look very awkward, so I can just pretty much look like an idiot, but I don't know whether I can be like witty. It could be a problem. — Robert Pattinson

Got you all hot and bothered, did I?"

He sneered. "Exactly as you intended."

"Well, in a few hours, we can fuck until we're both limp and exhausted," she promised, giving him an exaggerated leer.

Kent wrapped an arm around her waist and pulled her barely clothed body back against him. "I'm not waiting for a few hours," he countered huskily, his mouth against the side of her throat and the vibrations making her shiver.

She shook her head, although she'd felt tingling pleasure between her legs at his words. "You'll have to. I'm all fixed up and pretty now and you're not going to get me sweaty and mess up my makeup before everyone arrives."

His other arm went around her too and his hands moved up to cup her breasts over the lace of her bra. Then his pelvis pushed into the top of her ass and she felt the hard evidence of his arousal. "I won't mess up your makeup. — Zannie Adams

The silhouette is the most important thing in clothes. Every French girl knows that. High-waisted trousers give you long legs and a pretty bum which, after all, is what we all want. — Lou Doillon

He liked three kinds of films: pretty bathing girls with bare legs; policemen or cowboys and an industrious shooting of revolvers; and funny fat men who ate spaghetti. — Sinclair Lewis

YOU KNOW, YOU have a membership to this gym," I remind Cami as we begin walking side by side on the treadmills. She's glaring at hers, as though it's an evil entity. "I know. And I came here, once." "Once?" I chuckle and increase my speed. "I had these horrible side effects. I got sweaty. I was out of breath. My legs were shaky. I'm pretty sure that all means that this is not good for me. I mean, I couldn't breathe, Addie." "You — Kristen Proby

Rock & Roll is so great, people should start dying for it. You don't understand. The music gave you back the beat so you could dream. A whole generation running with a Fender bass...

The people just have to die for the music. People are dying for everything else, so why not the music? Die for it. Isn't it pretty? Wouldn't you die for something pretty?

Perhaps I should die. After all, all the great blues singers did die. But life is getting better now.

I don't want to die. Do I? - Lou Reed (1965-1968) — Legs McNeil