He's Locked Up Quotes & Sayings

Make love to me, Syn." Furi turned slightly and Syn captured his mouth in a passionate kiss. He didn't release Furi's mouth as he withdrew to the head of his dick and slowly slid back in, snapping his hips with the last inch. Furi's back bowed at the move. "Yes! Like that!" he shouted. Syn repeated it exactly how Furi liked it, keeping the pace slow and tight. The gentle waves that rocked the boat aided Syn's rhythm. Furi began to thrust his ass back against him and Syn's eyes rolled. "I'm gonna fuckin' come," Syn groaned, his voice sounding tortured, like Furi was killing him softly. "I need to see you." Syn pulled out slowly, gripping the base of his cock. He rose up so Furi could turn over. The look on Furi's face was his undoing. So much love and adoration shone back at him, reflecting his own feelings like a mirror. Furi spread his legs and Syn took one thigh and pulled it up high, wrapping it around his back. He locked eyes with his lover and buried back inside. "Unh. — A.E. Via

Charley! Maggie shrieked drunkenly and I watched as my name hit Jake's ears. I noted the way he tensed, my fingers trembling around my beer bottle.
His eyes shot up from his group and tore through the crowd across the room. His chest jerked as his gaze collided with mine and his arm fell away from the girl cuddled into him. His lips parted as shock slackened his handsome features and I watched him mouth my name.
Everyone disappeared around me as we locked eyes for the first time in years. The music dulled to a throb, the conversation to a muffled buzz, and all I could hear was my heartbeat. — Samantha Young

A demon's power comes from here," he said, placing his fingers on my temple. "Here." He moved his hand and placed his palm on my belly. "And here." His hand covered my heart, with way too much emphasis on my breast. I sucked in my breath on a gasp, causing my bosom to press into his hand even more. My eyes came up and locked with his.
"I think this is the part that stopped you from pushing me away," he said, referring to my heart — L.J. Kentowski

How would you open my chest if you had a mind to?"
Bast's expression grew slightly apprehensive. "Your thrice-locked chest, Reshi?"
Kvothe looked at his student, the laughter bubbled up out of him. "My what?" he asked incredulously.
Bast blushed and looked down. "That's just how I think of it," he mumbled.
"As names go ... " Kvothe hesitated, a smile playing around his mouth. "Well it's a little storybook, don't you think?"
"You're the one who made the thing, Reshi," Bast said sullenly. "Three locks and fancy wood and all that. It's not my fault if it sounds storybook."
Kvothe leaned forward and rested an apologetic hand on Bast's knee. "It's a fine name, Bast. Just caught me off my guard is all." He leaned back again. "So. How would you attempt to plunder the thrice-locked chest of Kvothe the Bloodless? — Patrick Rothfuss

Ben R. Rich, the ex-president of the famous "Skunk Works," Lockheed-Martin's Advanced Development Programs (ADP) group, revealed the truth just before he died. In an alumni speech at the University of California, Los Angeles, in 1993, he said, "We already have the means to travel among the stars, but these technologies are locked up in black projects and it would take an Act of God to ever get them out to benefit humanity . . . Anything you can imagine, we already know how to do. — Len Kasten

As I said, I don't expect you to understand - "
"And I don't," he cut in. "Ye ask how I can live a life that I know will end with the hangman's noose. Well, at least I am alive. Ye might as well have climbed inside yer husband's coffin and let yerself be buried with his corpse."
Her hand flashed out before she'd thought about it, the smack against his cheek loud in the little courtyard.
Silence had her eyes locked with Michael's, her chest rising and falling swiftly, but she was aware that Bert and Harry had looked up. Even Mary and Lad had paused in their play.
Without taking his gaze from hers, Michael reached out and grasped her hand. He raised her hand to his lips and softly kissed the center of her palm.
He looked at her, her hand still at his lips. "Don't take to yer grave afore yer time, Silence, m'love. — Elizabeth Hoyt

She looked up and their eyes locked. "Want to be my birthday present?" she asked in a breathy whisper.
Chase's mother didn't raise any fools. He released her hips and trailed his hand down her arm until their fingers entwined.
"Let's get out of here."
He tugged her from the dance floor, trying not to rush like he was running from a fire. But, damn. There was a fire in his britches. — Tamara Hoffa

And you would know so much about women, locked up in your castle."
"Locked up with eight wives. And sometimes I make house calls for my bargainers. There's many a lovely woman desperate enough to bargain with me."
This idea had never occurred to me before. "You touch another woman and I'll cut your hands off," I snapped.
He looked delighted. "I thought you were afraid of hurting me. — Rosamund Hodge

Miles backs up a step and turns so that he can face Dillon and Corbin at the same time. His eyes remain locked hard with Dillon's. "He's trying to fuck your sister."
Jesus Christ, Miles. Ever hear of sugarcoating? — Colleen Hoover

I may be, tied up, but at least, I am HIS. I may be hurting, But I am HIS, I may be reluctant, but I am HIS, I may be lonely, but I am HIS, I may be frustrated, but I am HIS, That's why I am praising Him, because I'm glad He tied me up. He stopped me from doing the things I would have done, that would've messed up myself. When I look at how my friends got loosed, I thank Him for tying me up. When I look at how the neighborhood boys are locked up in jail, I thank Him for tying me up. I am not happy about it then, but I'm glad about it now. When I think about the person I almost married, When I think about the job I almost got, When I think about the people who wouldn't let me join their clique, When I think about the people who stops talking to me, I thank Him for tying me up. I thank Him for the rope that got me tied up. — T.D. Jakes

If beauty is pain - let me get lost in it. If you're my salvation - I want to earn it. If love is all I have to give - then let me give it. You. It's all for you."
Gabe's eyes opened and locked in on mine.
"How can I prove that what I feel is real? You ask for truth I give you lies. You ask for joy I make you cry. But I don't want to lose you. Not like this. Not when I've left your heart in such a mess. Give me one chance - I'm letting go of the past - but I need you here to know."
"If beauty is pain - let me get lost in it. If you're my salvation - I want to earn it. If love is all I have to give - then let me give it. You, it's all for you." He paused, hitting the last few notes, and the song ended.
Gabe's smile lit up the room.
But I was frozen in place.
Me. He'd sung that to me. — Rachel Van Dyken

God what an outfield,' he says. 'What a left field.' He looks up at me, and I look down at him. 'This must be heaven,' he says.
No. It's Iowa,' I reply automatically. But then I feel the night rubbing softly against my face like cherry blossoms; look at the sleeping girl-child in my arms, her small hand curled around one of my fingers; think of the fierce warmth of the woman waiting for me in the house; inhale the fresh-cut grass small that seems locked in the air like permanent incense; and listen to the drone of the crowd, as below me Shoelss Joe Jackson tenses, watching the angle of the distant bat for a clue as to where the ball will be hit.
I think you're right, Joe,' I say, but softly enough not to disturb his concentration. — W.P. Kinsella

Oh, poor baby," she said, mimicking his drawl.
"Whew. You're back. There was this other Susie here a minute ago, and she was really nice to me. She scared the shit out of me."
She laughed. "They locked her back up in the loony bin."
"Good, because there's only one Susie for me - the one who calls me on my crap and doesn't let me get away with jack shit. That's the Susie I need. That's the Susie I've missed coming home to over the last year." He kissed her. "And that's the Susie who's going to leave a gaping hole in my heart and my life if she doesn't give me another chance. — Marie Force

That cat doesn't have a lick of sense,' I said, sighing.
Well, honey, he's not right in the head,' Dad said, flipping his cigarette into the front yard.
I glared at him. 'And just what do you mean by that?'
Dad counted on his fingers. 'He's cross-eyed; he jumps out of trees after birds and then doesn't land on his feet; he sleeps with his head smashed up against the wall, and the tip of his tail is crooked.'
Oh yeah? Well, how about this: he once got locked in a basement by evil Petey Scroggs in the middle of January and survived on snow and little frozen mice. When I'm cold at night he sleeps right on my face. Of that whole litter of kittens he came out of he's the only one left. One of his brothers didn't even have a butthole.'
I stand corrected. PeeDink is a survivor. — Haven Kimmel

She had scooped Lydia up and smoothed her hair and told her how clever she was, how proud her father would be when he came home. But she'd felt as if she'd found a locked door in a familiar room: Lydia, still small enough to cradle, had secrets. Marilyn might feed her and bathe her and coax her legs into pajama pants, but already parts of her life were curtained off. She kissed Lydia's cheek and pulled her close, trying to warm herself against her daughter's small body. — Celeste Ng

Denny was in third place, behind two other cars. They drove past us, and when they came back around for the checkered flag, Denny was by himself; he won the race. When asked how he had overtaken two cars on the final lap, he simply smiled and said that when he saw the starter wag one finger, meaning it was the last lap, he got a flash, and he said to himself, "I will win this race." One of the racers ahead of him spun off the track, the other locked up his wheels and gave Denny an easy opening to pass. "It's never too late," Denny said to Mark. "Things change. — Garth Stein

And still on a winter's night, they say, when the wind is in the trees,
When the moon is a ghostly galleon tossed upon cloudy seas,
When the road is a gypsy's ribbon looping the purple moor,
The highwayman comes riding
Riding
riding
The highwayman comes riding, up to the old inn-door.
Over the cobbles he clatters and clangs in the dark inn-yard,
He taps with his whip on the shutters, but all is locked and barred,
He whistles a tune to the window, and who should be waiting there
But the landlord's black-eyed daughter
Bess, the landlord's daughter
Plaiting a dark red love-knot into her long black hair. — Alfred Noyes

He had built his own future brick by brick around himself but there were no doors or windows, at least that was the way it seemed at the time he had thought to himself, I am locked in, it was like one of those ghost stories where you wake up and you are sealed in a coffin. — Dan Chaon

bought a pristine copy of Man on the Run, a biography of Paul McCartney that began not with the Beatles, but with what McCartney did after they broke up. Parker had always preferred McCartney's work to John Lennon's, whatever effect it might have had on his standing with the cool kids. Lennon could only ever really write about himself, and Parker felt that he lacked empathy. McCartney, by contrast, was capable of thinking, or feeling, himself into the lives of others. It was the difference between "Strawberry Fields Forever" and "Penny Lane": although Parker loved both songs, "Penny Lane" was filled with characters, while "Strawberry Fields Forever" really had only one, and his name was John Lennon. Parker might even have taken the view that Lennon needed to get out of his apartment more, but when he did, an idiot shot him. He'd probably been right to spend the best part of a decade locked inside. Ross appeared just as McCartney — John Connolly

I shall leave you to your Sisyphean task."
"What does that mean?" he heard Daisy ask.
Lillian replied while her smiling gaze remained locked with Marcus's. "It seems you avoided one too many Greek mythology lessons, dear. Sisyphus was a soul in Hades who was damned to perform an eternal task... rolling a huge boulder up a hill, only to have it roll down again just before he reached the top."
"Then if the countess is Sisyphus," Daisy concluded, "I suppose we're..."
"The boulder," Lady Westcliff said succinctly, causing both girls to laugh.
"Do continue with our instruction, my lady," Lillian said, giving her full attention to the elderly woman as Marcus left the room. "We'll try not to flatten you on the way down. — Lisa Kleypas

What? You think your White Knight's going to charge in and save the day? Not fucking likely. Nic's locked up far away from anywhere anyone would ever even think to look. And Dmitri knows all about Daniel. The only reason he's not strung up in a cave somewhere is because we don't want to call any more attention to ourselves. Daniel's out there hunting alone, and thanks to you his mind's jacked. He'll fold.
- Luc to Sarah. — Angela B. Wade

Mailer famously labeled writing the spooky art. He was right. There's a lot of frontal lobe blather, a lot of pencil-sharpening and knuckle-cracking and drafting and chat, but the big decisions are made in the locked subconscious, decisions not just on the writing but on the conditions for writing: I resolve on the one story I've never told and lo! Here I sit, holed up in a house that means nothing to me, bone-certain no other places will do. Art, even the humble autobiographer's, invokes occult necessities. — Glen Duncan

You ain't know nothing," a man scoffed. "How I'm supposed to trust some junkie Churchwitch-"
The words sliced through her like razor-sharp fangs. Her face flooded with shame, so hot she imagined it steamed in the icy air. At least it wasn't difficult to identify the speaker. All she had to do was look for the man with Terrible's fist locked around his neck.
"Ain't think I hear you right," Terrible said in a calm, quiet voice. "Wanna louden up?" The man shook his head His eyes bulged. He looked like a bug, with his hands clenching into tiny useless fists. "You sure? You got else to say, you best say it now, instead of later. Now we got us watchers. Later might not be true, dig?" The man dug. — Stacia Kane

You will leave now," she said softly, " or I will drag you out of here by your hair."
The man had breath like a day-old tuna sandwich. "I hate dykes. You always think you're tougher than you really
"
Xhex grabbed the man's wrist, turned him in a little circle, and cranked him arm up to the middle of his back. Then she clipped her leg around his ankles and shoved him off balance. He landed like a side of beef, the wind getting knocked out of him on a curse, his body plowing into the short-napped carpet. In a quick move, she bent down, buried one hand in his gelled-up hair, and locked the other on the collar of his suit jacket. As she draggep him face-first to the side exit, she was multitasking : creating a scene, commiting both an assault and a battery, and running the risk of a brawl if his buddies in the Hall of Fucktards got involved. But you had to put on a show every once in a while. To keep the peace, you had to get your hands dirty every once in a while. — J.R. Ward

He put on his hat and wrapped his scarf around his jaw, but did without the wig and the sunglasses. He clicked his key chain and the car beeped and the doors locked.
"That's it?"
He looked up. "Sorry?"
"Aren't you afraid it might get stolen? We're not exactly in a good part of town."
"It's got a car alarm."
"Don't you, like, cast a spell or something? To keep it safe?"
"No. It's a pretty good car alarm. — Derek Landy

When Dad was in the middle of a description of the hotel's laundry facility, I interrupted. "Why haven't you told me today, like you do every day, that Mom's going to be better soon?"
He looked up then. His gaze locked with mine and held a promise that no matter what he said or didn't say, he and I would ride this out together. "I haven't told you that today, Meg, because I don't know. — Laura Anderson Kurk

The mayor informed General Petronio San Roman of the episode, down to the last literal phrase, in an alarming telegram. General San Roman must have followed his son's wishes to the letter, because he didn't come for him, but sent his wife with their daughters and two other older women who seemed to be her sisters. They came on a cargo boat, locked in mourning up to their necks because of Bayardo San Roman's misfortunes, and with their hair hanging loose in grief. Before stepping onto land, they took off their shoes and went barefoot through the streets up to the hilltop in the burning dust of noon, pulling out strands of hair by the roots and wailing loudly with such high-pitched shrieks that they seemed to be shouts of joy. I watched them pass from Magdalena Oliver's balcony, and I remember thinking that distress like theirs could only be put on in order to hide other, greater shames. — Gabriel Garcia Marquez

His gaze locked with mine and a slow grin appeared on his face. He didn't look like he had last night. More like he did every day at school. Worn jeans. A black henley instead of a T-shirt and beat-up sneakers, but goodness, I couldn't think.
Okay. Not true. I could think, but I was thinking things I really had no concept of. I was thinking about those full, slightly curved lips and how they must feel in places...other than my forehead or cheek. I was thinking about his hands and how strong they were and the oddly pleasant calluses on his palms. I was thinking about...about a lot of things - things that now didn't feel so wrong since he was actually single.
Noticing my near-prone position, Ainsley looked over her shoulder. "Oh, my good God almighty," she murmured. "That's him?"
"Yes," I whispered. That was so him. — Jennifer L. Armentrout

You didn't have to know Pilu for long to see that he floated through life like a coconut on the ocean. He always bobbed up. There was some sort of natural spring of cheerfulness that bubbled to the surface. Sadness was like a cloud across the sun, soon past. Sorrow was tucked away somewhere in his head, locked up in a cage with a blanket over it, like the captain's parrot. — Terry Pratchett

My dad could be beyond brilliant but totally introverted. If we're talking about computers, he's on. Otherwise, he's a total recluse - he stays in the house and won't leave, and I'm like that. If I'm not working, I'm locked up in my room. — Alessandra Torresani

The king's worst fear about the prophecy was coming true
which was kind of stupid, because if he hadn't been such a butt-brain and locked up his daughter, it never would've happened. But that's the way prophecies work. You try to avoid the trap, and in doing so you end up building the trap yourself and stepping right into it. — Rick Riordan

Let me inform you of something," he says in a low voice. "The moment my lips touch yours, it will be your first kiss. Because if you've never felt anything when someone's kissed you, then no one's ever really kissed you. Not the way I plan on kissing you."
He drops his hands and keeps his eyes locked on mine while he backs up to the stove.
He turns around to tend to the pasta like he didn't just ruin me for any other guy for the rest of my life.
I can't feel my legs, so I do the only thing I can. I slide down the refrigerator until my butt meets the floor and I inhale. — Colleen Hoover

Fallon continued. "We learned in school that bullies abuse others because they feel bad about themselves. They're hurting." She brought up her knees and locked her arms around them, her tone light and taunting. "We shouldn't be mad. We should pity them." Madoc has never had to make a real decision in his entire life, which means he's never had anything real. This house, the cars, the money. It's all an illusion. It's like parading a victory when you missed the war." She took a breath and whispered slowly. "Madoc has no idea who he is. — Penelope Douglas

As a collective exhale hit the airwaves, Qhuinn found himself looking over at Blay. Aw, hell, talk about a suck zone - this was why he avoided the guy like the plague. Just one glance and he was locked on, all kinds of reactions rolling through him, until the room spun a little
For no good reason, Blay's eyes flipped up and met his.
It was like getting goosed in the ass with a live wire, his body spasming to the point where he had to hide the reaction by coughing while he glanced away.
About as smooth as a crater. Yup. Fantastic. — J.R. Ward

Eric approached the octagonal nurses' station, and a blonde nurse
looked up from her computer monitor, smiled, and pointed to
examining room D. Everybody recognized the hospital shrinks
from the bright red W on their lanyard IDs. The W stood for
Wright, the wing that contained the locked psych unit, but the
staff teased that W stood for Wackos. He'd heard all the jokes
How do you tell the psychiatrists from the patients in the hospital?
The patients get better and leave. Eric told the best psychiatrist
jokes, though he never told the ones about psychiatrist's kids. He
didn't think those were funny. He lived those. — Lisa Scottoline

I know you're frustrated that he's keeping you locked up like this, but don't give him too bad a time when he gets back. He loves you more than you know. It terrifies him to be away from you. — Stephenie Meyer

You will. I promise. There's a lockup. Each apartment has one. Like a big storage cage. Come with me."
An image of me being locked in a cage in some kind of creepy cellar came into my head. I didn't even know Toby. Not really. And he said himself he was jealous of me. Maybe he would lock me in this basement and nobody in the world would ever guess where I was.
Toby's shoulders drooped, and he cocked his head to one side and said, "Please," in the most pathetic voice ever. Then he perked back up. "Look, truly, June. You won't be sorry."
I thought about it for a few seconds and came to the conclusion that a real psycho wouldn't have mentioned the cage. A real psycho would have lured me down there by telling me there was a puppy or something. — Carol Rifka Brunt

dreams at night. Secretly, he began to make plans to travel to the shack the following weekend. At first he told no one, not even Nan. He had no reasonable defense in any exchange that would result after such a disclosure, and he was afraid that he might get locked up and the key thrown away. Anyway, he rationalized such a conversation would only bring more pain with no resolution. "I am keeping it to myself for Nan's sake," he told himself. Besides, acknowledging the note would mean admitting that he had kept secrets from her, secrets he still justified in his own mind. Sometimes honesty can be incredibly messy. Convinced of the rightness of his impending journey, Mack began to consider ways to get the family away from home for the weekend without rousing any suspicions. There was the slim possibility that — William Paul Young

Those five days we were locked up together at Vasa Luigi's, that wasn't an effect of the imprisonment, was it? That's the way you really are, when you're well?"
"Pretty much," he admitted.
"I've always wondered what adult hyperactives did for a living. — Lois McMaster Bujold

Then headed for the kitchen.
Fuck.
I headed through the lounge ...
... just as two indistinct pitch-black masses, Kevlar laden, shotguns raised, crept ninja-like through the front door. This time, I didn't even get a bellowed warning. The lead ninja, upon seeing me, sprang forward ... and crushed me face flat to the floor.
That hurt.
It was five long hard seconds before he eased up an iota so I could take a breath,
"Hello again, Dennis. Busy night?" I managed from somewhere under his arm or knee or gun-butt. "Bean-bags or bullets?"
"Bullets," said Harry. "Easy up, lads. He's scarpered ... "
Dennis got off of me, locked his shotgun and helped me up,
"Sorry," he said.
"No worries ... — Morana Blue

If she's out here and not locked up in the barracks, I'll know," he said. He took a deep breath and whistled.
"You share a whistle?" Trevanion said in disbelief.
"Do you have a problem with that?" Finnikin asked.
"I have a few whistles," Lucian murmured. "Very confusing sometimes."
"Whistles are meant for combat," Trevanion said. "Not wooing women. Women do not understand whistles. — Melina Marchetta

The so-called intellectual consumes himself in what he considers pathbreaking work and in the end has only succeeded in making himself ridiculous, whether he's called Schopenhauer or Nietzsche, it doesn't matter, even if he was Kleist or Voltaire we still see a pitiful being who has misused his head and finally driven himself into nonsense. Who's been rolled over and passed over by history. We've locked up the great thinkers in our bookcases, from which they keep staring at us, sentenced to eternal ridicule, he said, I — Thomas Bernhard

Strange how tightly one's body could be held, how close to somebody else's heart, and yet one wasn't anywhere near the holder. They locked you up in prisons that way, holding your body tight and thinking they had got you, and all the while your mind - you - was as free as the wind and the sunlight. She couldn't help it, she struggled hard to feel as she had felt when she woke up and saw him sitting near her; but the way he had refused to be friends, the complete absence of any readiness in him to meet her, not half, nor even a quarter, but a little bit of the way, had for the first time made her consciously afraid of him. She — Elizabeth Von Arnim

"It's a workshop. Nothing but tools."
"So why would it be locked?" I asked.
"I'd love to say it's suspicious," SImon said. "But if this Banks guy had kids around, then I'm not surprised. My dad isn't exactly Mr. Handyman, but he kept a lock on his toolbox. You know parents, Paranoid."
"Yeah," Derek said. "Especially after their son flattens his fingers trying to nail a drawing to the wall."
"Hey, I'm not the genius who suggested it." Simon glanced at me. "Tape wouldn't hold it, and Science Guy explained that the paper was too heavy for the adhesive. So I got some nails."
Derek rolled his eyes. — Kelley Armstrong

I brushed my hand through his blond hair. "You're a fool, Your Furriness."
Tiny gold sparks flared in his irises. "You're in my rooms in my bathtub naked and you're still mouthing off."
Did he expect something different? "Hey, I didn't kick you or punch you in the throat. I consider this progress. And you haven't choked me again, which is some sort of record for you . . ."
He grabbed me with a growl. "That's it. You're in for it."
"Very scary. I'm shaking in my - "
He locked his mouth on mine and I decided it was a good incentive to shut up. — Ilona Andrews

Fighting me would be an exercise in futility, Countess." As if to assert his point, he reached out to grasp her jaw, tilting her chin up to meet his gaze. "As would trying to escape." Narrowing her eyes, she held her voice firm. "Yet I am certain my attempts could be very vexing." For an eternity, they stared at each other, locked in a silent battle of wills. Rafael's scowl deepened before he released her. — Brooklyn Ann

He locked you up because he knew - the bastard knew what a treasure you are. That you are worth more than land or gold or jewels. He knew, and wanted to keep you all to himself."
The words hit me, even as they soothed some jagged piece in my soul. "He did - does love me, Rhysand."
"The issue isn't whether he loved you, it's how much. Too much. Love can be a poison." And then he was gone. — Sarah J. Maas

well', he said. 'most people aren't like you. They're locked up in themselves. They live in their castles - all alone. They're like me.'
'Well, everyone lives in his own castle', said Maude. 'But that's no reason not to lower the drawbridge and go out on visits. — Colin Higgins

Blind certainty, a close-mindedness that amounts to an imprisonment so total that the prisoner doesn't even know he's locked up. — David Foster

The two angels were both tall, but Aodhan was perhaps an inch taller, and now his eyes locked with Illium's for a long, quiet moment before he lowered his head slightly. Illium raised his hand, the movement slow, hesitant ... and then his fingers brushed Aodhan's cheek just below the cut that had almost sealed. The first ray of dawn kissed the tear that rolled down Illium's face, caressed the painful wonder on Aodhan's as he lifted his hand to clasp the wrist of his friend's hand.
That instant of contact, the power of it, stole her breath.
Then Illium smiled, said something that made Aodhan's lips curve-Elena thought it might've been "Welcome back, Sparkle"-and they were separating to sweep off the Tower in a symphony of wild silver blue and heartbreaking light.
"Raphael," she whispered, having felt him come up behind her. "Did you see?"
"Yes." His hand on her nape, his thumb brushing over her pulse. "Of course it would be Illium who reached him," he murmured. — Nalini Singh

William Burroughs was simultaneously old and young. Part sheriff, part gumshoe. All writer. He had a medicine chest he kept locked, but if you were in pain he would open it. He did not like to see his loved ones suffer. If you were infirm he would feed you. He'd appear at your door with a fish wrapped in newsprint and fry it up. He was inaccessible to a girl but I loved him anyway. — Patti Smith

Bolick. "Mrs. Finnemore was sound asleep in the downstairs bedroom, she heard nothing, and at some point she got up to check on April. That's when she realized she was gone." Theo looked at Mrs. Finnemore, who again shot him a fierce look. He knew the truth, and she knew he knew the truth. Trouble was, Theo couldn't tell the truth because he'd made a promise to April. The truth was that Mrs. Finnemore had not been home for the past two nights. April had been living alone, terrified, with all the doors and windows locked as tightly as possible; with a chair jammed against her bedroom door; with an old baseball bat across the end of her — John Grisham

And so, there in the penitentiary, Juan's education began. He didn't want to be a puto weakling, so he worked hard at learning to read. His earthly body was locked up, but his mind was set free as a young eagle soaring through the heavens. — Victor Villasenor

You're not touching us,'" Eve said, and raised her voice. "Shane! Shane, get your ass up here now!'"
There was a touch of panic in her voice, although she was putting on a good front. Her hands were shaking where they gripped the hockey stick.
The man glided around the end of the bed, prowling like a cat. Six feet tall, at least, and as broad as two of Eve, maybe bigger. His bare arms were ripped with muscle. His blue eyes looked shallow and hungry.
Claire heard the thump of footsteps outside, and then a bang as Shane fetched up against the locked door. He rattled the knob and pounded hard. "Eve! Eve, open up!'"
"She's busy!'" the biker yelled, and laughed. "Oh yeah, gonna be real busy.'"
"No!'" Shane screamed it, and the door shook with the strength of the blows he put into it. "Stay away from them! — Rachel Caine

When you cleaned out this house of anything valuable," Harry began, but Mundungus interrupted him again.
"Sirius never cared about any of the junk--"
There was the sound of pattering feet, a blaze of shining copper, an echoing clang, and a shriek of agony: Kreacher had taken a run at Mundungus and hit him over the head with a saucepan.
"Call 'im off, call 'im off, 'e should be locked up!" screamed Mundungus, cowering as Kreacher raised the heavy-bottomed pan again.
"Kreacher, no!" shouted Harry.
Kreacher's thin arms trembled with the weight of the pan, still held aloft.
"Perhaps just once more, Master Harry, for luck?"
Ron laughed.
"We need him conscious, Kreacher, but if he needs persuading you can do the honors," said Harry.
"Thank you very much, Master," said Kreacher with a bow, and he retreated a short distance, his great pale eyes still fixed upon Mundungus with loathing. — J.K. Rowling

So, look, you can't leave," Doug said, sitting straight up and turning towards her. "if you do, Miller's gonna revert and Caleb and Ian are gonna ride roughshod and Sean'll go back to being ghost brother and Finn ... "
Megan's heart slipped. "Finn what?"
"Finn will be destroyed," Doug said, looking her in the eye. "You got that dude all up in a twist, you know that, right?"
"What does that even mean?" Megan asked.
"All's I know is, he found out you left and he locked himself in the shed and barricaded the door. No one's seen him since," Doug said. "When I bolted, Sean and Evan were trying to boost Caleb up onto the roof so he could look through the skylight and make sure the kid wasn't dead or something."
Megan swallowed hard. "Wow. — Kate Brian

You took his guns away from him, didn't you?"
Maude asked Cash when Cash pulled up in front of the
house.
He nodded. "They're locked up in my office." His expression was somber. "But there's still a pistol and a
shotgun in the house somewhere. Crissy told me. You'd
better get all the ammunition and lock it up somewhere."
"The minute I get inside," Maude promised.
Tippy glanced from one of them to the other. "You
aren't serious," she remarked.
Cash met her eyes. "If she were my wife, that's what
Maude would be doing for me," he said flatly. "And yes,
I'm serious. Maybe Judd hasn't realized it yet, but he
won't have a life left if Christabel dies. It isn't logical, but
it's what some men do when they're out of their minds
with grief. We don't need another tragedy. — Diana Palmer

I don't think it's possible for you to look any sexier right now," he whispered in my ear. "If it weren't for the fact that I need this job, I might be inclined to drag you back to the stockroom and have my way with you."
I spun around in his arms and looked up into the eyes I'd missed seeing. "This is nothing compared to how sexy I'll look later," I said, leaning back against the jukebox. "If you're interested."
"Is that an invitation?"
I shrugged. "Consider it a request. No, scratch that. Consider it a demand," I said, as I locked eyes with him. — Monica Alexander

My father always used to tell one of his dreams, because it somehow seemed of a piece with what was to follow. He believed that it was a consequence of the thing's presence in the next room. My father dreamed of blood.
It was the vividness of the dreams that was impressive, their minute detail and horrible reality. The blood came through the keyhole of a locked door which communicated with the next room. I suppose the two rooms had originally been designed en suite. It ran down the door panel with a viscous ripple, like the artificial one created in the conduit of Trumpingdon Street. But it was heavy, and smelled. The slow welling of it sopped the carpet and reached the bed. It was warm and sticky. My father woke up with the impression that it was all over his hands. He was rubbing his first two fingers together, trying to rid them of the greasy adhesion where the fingers joined." ("The Troll") — T.H. White

In the pierced heart of the Crucified, God's own heart is opened up - here we see who God is and what he is like. Heaven is no longer locked up. God has stepped out of his hiddenness — Pope Benedict XVI

Give us all a chance to prove we're on your side." Emotions locked Keeley's throat tight. She wanted to believe him with all her heart, but he failed to see how impossible that was. She fucked up everyone and everything she came in contact with. She was a pestilence. Sooner he realized there was no light getting through all her darkness, the better off he would be. — Lora Ann

Among the hardest hit was Terry the Tramp, who immediately loaded up on LSD and spent the next twelve hours locked in the back of a panel truck, shrieking and crying under the gaze of some god he had almost forgotten, but who came down that night to the level of the treetops and just stared - man, he just looked at me, and I tell you I was scared like a little kid. — Hunter S. Thompson

All I know is, he found out you left and he locked himself in the shed and barricaded the door. No one's seen him since," Doug said. "When I bolted, Sean and Evan were trying to boost Caleb up onto the roof so he could look through the skylight and make sure the kid wasn't dead or something. — Kate Brian

Judge's arms was stretched out the entire width of the bed, as if his body were being offered up for sacrifice. His fists clenched the sides of the mattress as his orgasm burst out of hiding, barreling to the surface. His body locked up tight, every muscle flexed and taut. Judge grimaced and groaned at the intense pleasure. "Fuck. I feel you, Judge. Come with me, come with me," Michaels crooned. Rubbing Judge everywhere he could reach. "Your body is so gorgeous." "Austin," Judge whispered shakily, when lightning shot through his balls and the first jet of come made him jerk hard enough to almost knock Michaels off him. Heat spread beneath him, soaking through the sheets and probably into the mattress. He shook violently with each release, his orgasm riding him as hard as Michaels was. "Fuck. — A.E. Via

A man barreled around a corner, heading straight for the princess. Winter tensed half a second before he reached her. Grabbing Winter's elbow, he yanked back the red hood. Scarlet gasped. Her knees weakened. The man stared at Winter with a mixture of confusion and disappointment and maybe even anger, all locked up in eyes so vividly green Scarlet could see them glowing from here. She — Marissa Meyer

Filming wraps up next week, then I'm officially retiring my fangs."
"Girls' hearts will be shattered."
He tipped up my chin, and his steady gaze locked on mine.
"I'm only worried about one girl's heart." Oh. My — Jenny B. Jones

You're lying to yourself. You're holding this up as a way to keep me locked out. But it's too late. I'm in. You love me." I smiled softly as he closed his eyes and gritted his teeth against my words. "You love me," I repeated, "and you'll never hurt me. And I will never hurt you. I will never use you like they did, like they all did. Because I want you. Just you. — Samantha Young

Eva. "Hugh swore he checked the room when he put Liam down for a nap, even though nobody had been in there since you got him up this morning. I swear to you, the house was locked up tight."
Locked.
Pia's head came up. "Oh, shit. — Thea Harrison

He's not your son," said Sirius quietly.
"He's as good as," said Mrs Weasley fiercely. "Who else has he got?"
"He's got me!"
"Yes," said Mrs Weasley, her lip curling, "the thing is, it's been rather difficult for you to look after him while you've been locked up in Azkaban, hasn't it?"
Sirius started to rise from his chair.
"Molly, you're not the only person at this table who cares about Harry," said Lupin sharply. — J.K. Rowling

Cyrus walked straight to the tallest crack of light, a seam between two doors. They were locked, but they were also thin and old, and they bent a little with pressure from his shoulder.

He backed up.

"Try one of Skelton's keys," said Antigone. "Is there a keyhole?"

"Nope." Cyrus threw himself against the doors. Wood popped, but he bounced back. "I can break it."

"You mean a rib? Maybe your shoulder?" Antigone adjusted her grip, propping Horace in front of her.

"There's just one little bolt," said Cyrus. "And it's set in old wood." He paused. What was he hearing? Voices. Shouting. "You hear that?" he asked.

Antigone nodded. "They don't sound happy."

This time, Cyrus used his foot. The wood splintered, and the two doors wobbled open onto a world of emerald and sunlight. — N.D. Wilson

You adopted him," I said when Romeo sat on the coffee table in front of me.
"You love him," he said simply. Like that was all he needed to know.
"But you'll have to take care of him. Feed him. Give him water. Change the litter box."
"Thought maybe you'd want to help."
I looked up. Our eyes locked.
"What if I say no?" I asked. "What happens to Murphy then?"
He shrugged. "He's a cook cat. I'll keep him. He can watch football with me on Sundays."
I couldn't help but smile at the image that cast in my head.
"You'd really do that?" I whispered.
He leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees. "Yes." Then his stoic eyes turned playful and his smile came out. "You wanna watch football with me on Sundays too?"
- Rimmel & Romeo — Cambria Hebert

Tom said, "Let me beg you never to tell that story to Will. He'd have you locked up." "But the house wasn't worth what I asked!" "I repeat what I said about Will. What's Adam want with your house?" "He's going to move there. Wants the twins to go to school in Salinas." "What'll — John Steinbeck

One time, Kent was filling a pulpit at a small church in a small town. These places scare me, and for good reason. Knox was asleep on my shoulder and Mary was asleep in the car seat. A man walked up to me, not knowing that I was the preacher's wife, and said: "So, is it chic for white women to adopt black kids these days?" I took a deep breath and stood up to meet his gaze. "Are you a Christian?" I asked him. "Yes, ma'am," he replied. "Did God save you because it was chic?" We locked eyes until he dropped his head. — Rosaria Champagne Butterfield

It's Ky's move. In the quiet before the Ky takes his turn, Xander watches him carefully. Ky's hand hovers over the board. For a moment, as he holds the piece in the air, I see where he could put it to win and I know he sees it, too, that he planned the whole game for that last move. He looks at Xander and Xander looks back, both of them locked in some kind of challenge that seems to run deeper and older than what's happening here on this board.
Then Ky moves his hand and puts his piece down in a spot where Xander can eventually overtake him for the win. Ky doesn't hessitate once he places the piece; he sets it down with a solid sound and leans back in his chair, looking up at the ceiling. I think I see the slightest hint of a smile on his lips but I can't be sure. — Ally Condie

You made him stay shut up in that house and he hated it, that's why he wanted to get out last night -"
"I was trying to keep Sirius alive," said Dumbledore quietly.
"People don't like being locked up!" Harry said furiously, rounding on him. "You did it to me all last summer - — J.K. Rowling

He had never thought in his wildest imagination of marriage as an option for
him. Never believed there was a woman out there that would make him sign up for that particular brand of madness. And, in the abstract at least, it still sounded like madness but this wasn't about marriage, it was about Riley. With her, he knew that boyfriend-girlfriend shit wasn't going to be enough. He had to have her locked down. — Nia Forrester

Courtenay matter. There must be letters. Many of them appear, as you know, to concern the problems of navigation in which he was interested, but it is not difficult to read behind the lines. He died in Padua, and from what I can learn, all his papers were sealed in a casket and locked up by the Bailiff for safety. Rumour has it that Peter Vannes the English Ambassador has been told to — Dorothy Dunnett

The wind is knocked out of me; and when I look up, I see Nine spitting blood out. He's grinning.
"Are you crazy?" I ask. "You're enjoying this?"
"I've been locked up for over a year. This is the best day of my life! — Pittacus Lore

I still can't believe [ Muhammad Ali ] knows my name. It astounds me he knows who I am. I first met Ali in 1976. I was locked up in a juvenile home and he came to visit. I've never forgotten it. — Mike Tyson

One thing is certain: the lesson of Bobby Sands's determination comes through. One image returns over and over again: a naked man locked up twenty-four hours in a cell, without even the most rudimentary comforts or reading materials. He turns to his cellmate and chastises him for sleeping all day. "It's a waste of your opportunities, isn't it? — Denis O'Hearn

Hey!" Eddie said. The baby [T-Rex] lunged forward, and clamped its jaws around the ankle of his boot. He pulled his foot away, dragging the baby, which held its grip tightly. "Hey! Let go!"
Eddie lifted his leg up, shook it back and forth, but the baby refused to let go. He pulled for a moment longer, then stopped. Now the baby just lay there on the ground, breathing shallowly, jaws still locked around Eddie's boot. "Jeez," Eddie said.
Eddie looked down at the tiny, razor-sharp jaws. They hadn't penetrated the leather. The baby held on firmly. With the butt of his rifle, he poked the infant's head a couple times. It had no effect at all. The baby lay on the ground, breathing shallowly. Its big eyes blinked slowly as they stared up at Eddie, but it did not release its grip. — Michael Crichton

And I'm not lying. I was a great shrieker. I'd been practicing too. If you're going to get this right, you can't just shriek. Anyone can do that. To shriek like an insane woman who has been locked in an attic for a great many years, you have to practice.
The first time I practiced was in.our bathroom, and when Lucas heard it, he tried to roll his wheelchair right up the stairs because he figured there was a bloody, bloody muderer at my throat. He got three steps before I heard him.
After that, he said I had to practice outside.
So I went to the green field on the way to Mrs. Windermere's house and hoped that no one was around. — Gary D. Schmidt

Bryn?"
Chase's voice was a whisper in my mind, and the sensation sent a single chill up my spine.
"Yes?"
"You asked me what I liked, before." He paused, and all the silence tickled my mind, the chill in my spine climbing its way to the hairs on the back of my neck.
"Before, I loved cars, Yeats, having a bedroom that locked from the inside, and you. — Jennifer Lynn Barnes

With the suddneness of a cat leaping upon its prey, he leaned forward and caught up her wrist. "Tread lightly, Miranda Fair." His thumb moved lightly over her fluttering pulse, as she stared with her mouth assuredly hanging open in shock, her heart beating furiously within her breast."You know, it's never wise to tempt the devil." His gaze lowered to her hand, still locked in his grip, her fingers glistening with pear juice. "Had I not this mask, I should be of a mind to suck that juice right off of your fingers. — Kristen Callihan

Inside the store, a young man in the sadly appropriate red Target shirt walked very slowly to the locked door that was all that protected him from the horde.
"He's going to die." Jesse sounded a little worried.
The crowd started undulating, like a Chinese New Year dragon, as he reached up and slowly turned the key. — Patricia Briggs

His reaction to the idea was not simple. He felt a great warmth that they should want to give him a party and at the same time he quaked inwardly remembering the last one they had given.
Now everything fell into place-Mack's question and the silences when he was about. He thought of it a lot that night sitting beside his desk. He glanced about considering what things would have to be locked up. He knew the party was going to cost him plenty. — John Steinbeck

It bothers me that the executive branch is taking the amazing position that just on the president's say-so, any American citizen can be picked up, not just in Afghanistan, but at O'Hare Airport or on the streets of any city in this country, and locked up without access to a lawyer or court just because the government says he's connected somehow with the Taliban or Al Qaeda. That's not the American way. It's not the constitutional way. — Laurence Tribe

That's when I caught my first glimpse of Blaine Crabtree. He was sandwiched in between two guys that were laughing at who knows what. At first I didn't notice anything but a big mop of bleached blonde hair, then he looked up from his pack of cloves and I was locked into the bluest eyes that I had ever seen. His expression didn't change, he didn't smile and didn't blink. It seemed like I was lost in his eyes, like he was using them to do the most calculated math problem, and that math problem was me. — Magan Vernon

You've had ample opportunity to send me up the river ... you could've easily gotten me locked up long ago just by opening your mouth. I didn't need to marry you to gain your silence. You've given it to me from the start. If you didn't turn on me then, when you had plenty of reason to, I trust that you won't do it now, ring or no ring. I married you, Karissa, because I love you. Nothing more, nothing less."
As many times as he's said those words ... I love you ... it still makes my stomach flutter to hear them come from him. The butterflies soar. He's not an outwardly emotional person, not at all, so when he says it, I know he means it.
Wrapping my arms around his neck, I reach up on my tiptoes and kiss him. His lips are soft, sweet. His tongue tastes like peppermint. "I love you, too, you know."
"I know. — J.M. Darhower

It is very odd to be standing in a locked room in the Penitentiary, speaking with a strange man about France and Italy and Germany. A travelling man. He must be a wanderer, like Jeremiah the peddler. But Jeremiah travelled to earn his bread, and these other sorts of men are rich enough already. They go on voyages because they are curious. They amble around the world and stare at things, they sail across the oceans as if there's nothing to it at all, and if it goes ill with them in one place they simply pick up and move along to another. — Margaret Atwood

He went into another bar already drunk, found himself confronted by a ghost. Earlier that night he had glimpsed hints of them
in the curl of a lip that sparked a memory, a flicker of an eyelid, the way someone's hand lingered on a tabletop. Those shoes. That dress. But when you encountered a real ghost
the Thing Entire
it was a shock ... it took your breath. Not away. It didn't take your breath away
your breath wasn't going anywhere. Your breath was still in you, locked up, not of use to you. Took your pulse only to mutter dire predictionsfor the future because the Ghost Entire trapped Control somewhere between the person he had been and the person he had become. And yet it was still just a wraith. Just a woman he had known in high school. — Jeff VanderMeer

It's like he took the words right out of the deepest, most secretive part of my heart, the tiny room that's always locked up with the key swallowed for good measure. — Steph Campbell

The girl inhaled sharply at this last bit, the word 'father'. They leaned into Azalea's nightgown as Mr. Pudding, fumbling with his great ring of keys, locked the ballroom door with a click-click. Seeing the younger girls start to tear up, he gave them his lamp and promised to send biscuits and tea to their room, nearly crying himself. But he did not unlock the ballroom. — Heather Dixon

She wasn't crying at all. This was what scared him the most. Where had she locked up the things he'd seen her feeling that day when she heard? She wasn't that big a girl to hold all of it - to hold her brother's life and his death inside of her. To hold all his long-limbed raging tidal motion and all the loss of that. — Francesca Lia Block

His knees locked and he pushed his weight against Mr. Jones's hand. It wasn't the dim light coming through the skylights or the giant steel fan that waited to chop them up or the smell of urine or the dank-dungeon cells that lined both sides of the aisle that made Danny step back. It was a sense of panic, of fear, that saturated the atmosphere like an electrical current, tingling in his bowels. The boys ahead of him didn't seize up, but they stutter-stepped. Like the end of a ship's plank was dead ahead. Danny felt this type of fear spreading through his groin like cold fingers once before. A memory emerged in the soupy sea of memories inside his head. He remembered getting pulled out of the back seat of a car with his hands cuffed behind his back by someone. But then like everything he tried to remember, there were gaps. — Tony Bertauski

Prophet finally breathed when the forceps came off - how long he'd been holding it, he had no idea, but fuck, everything was reduced to the feeling of the piercing, the burning throb in his nipple, and that made it hard to focus on anything else. A long moment later, the ring was locked firmly in place, and Tommy was sinking to his knees in front of him, unzipping his pants and taking his hard cock down his throat. Prophet shot immediately - and Tom had to know that would happen. Prophet knew he'd no doubt have come as he was being pierced . . . if he'd had Tom sucking him while Ray did the piercing. But that was interesting as a fantasy only. Because this wasn't about sharing. Or payback. This was Tom showing him that he understood. That, no matter what, no matter how pissed they got, how much they fucked up . . . Prophet was his. Which was Tom's way of assuring that he wasn't going anywhere. — S.E. Jakes

My son, Sam, at three and a half, had these keys to a set of plastic handcuffs, and one morning he intentionally locked himself out of the house. I was sitting on the couch reading the newspaper when I heard him stick his plastic keys into the doorknob and try to open the door. Then I heard him say, "Oh, shit." My whole face widened, like the guy in Edvard Munch's Scream. After a moment I got up and opened the front door.
"Honey," I said, "what'd you just say?"
"I said, 'Oh, shit,'" he said.
"But, honey, that's a naughty word. Both of us have absolutely got to stop using it. Okay?"
He hung his head for a moment, nodded, and said, "Okay, Mom." Then he leaned forward and said confidentially, "But I'll tell you why I said 'shit.'" I said Okay, and he said, "Because of the fucking keys! — Anne Lamott

It was the sea that made me begin thinking secretly about love more than anything else; you know, a love worth dying for, or a love that consumes you. To a man locked up in a steel ship all the time, the sea is too much like a woman. Things like her lulls and storms, or her caprice, or the beauty of her breast reflecting the setting sun, are all obvious. More than that, you're in a ship that mounts the sea and rides her and yet is constantly denied her. It's the old saw about miles and miles of lovely water and you can't quench your thirst. Nature surrounds a sailor with all these elements so like a woman and yet he is kept as far as a man can be from her warm, living body. That's where the problem begins, right there - I'm sure of it. — Yukio Mishima

Yes, Norman, I suppose you're right. That's where I'd probably be. But I wouldn't be there alone." Norman slammed the door, locked it, and turned away. He wasn't quite sure, but as he ran up the cellar steps he thought he could still hear her chuckling gently in the dark. — Robert Bloch

Em, you have a soul."
"How can you be so sure of that, Hayden? How many people die and come back?"
"No one dies and comes back. You did because of your sister, and you have a gift. Maybe that played a role in your coming back, but you have a soul. You aren't evil. There's nothing you can say that will make me think that."
I looked up and our gazes locked. "And there's nothing you can say to make me feel differently."
He lowered his eyes. Thick lashes fanned his cheeks. "I know you do, because I wouldn't want to ... to kiss you if you didn't have a soul." I froze.
"You ... you want to kiss me? — Jennifer L. Armentrout