Quotes & Sayings About Him Giving Up On Me

Yeah, well," Nico said, "not giving people a second thought ... that can be dangerous." "Dude, I'm trying to say thank you." Nico laughed without humor. "I'm trying to say you don't need to. Now I need to finish this, if you could give me some space?" "Yeah. Yeah, okay." Percy stepped back while Nico took up the slack on his ropes. He slipped them over his shoulders as if the Athena Parthenos were a giant backpack. Percy couldn't help feeling a little hurt, being told to take a hike. Then again, Nico had been through a lot. The guy had survived in Tartarus on his own. Percy understood firsthand just how much strength that must have taken. Annabeth walked up the hill to join them. She took Percy's hand, which made him feel better. "Good luck," she told Nico. — Rick Riordan

I know that you spent years pouring yourself into another person who you thought was going to love you forever; and when he was faced with the realities of the world, he abandoned you." I froze, taking in his words. "I'm not him, America. I have no intentions of giving up on you."
I shook my head. "You can't see it, Maxon. He might have let me down, but at least I knew him. After all this time, I still feel like there's a gap between us. The Selection has forced you to hand over your affection in slices. I'll never really have all of you. None of us will. — Kiera Cass

Many times we recognize our weakness, but we fail to recognize what God can accomplish through it. It's a giving up point for far too many people who claim to know the all-powerful God. "I just can't" is a foolish statement for those who know God; it should not be in our vocabulary. "I can't" should be replaced by "I can do all things through him who strengthens me" (Phil. 4:13). Weakness should cause us to surrender to Christ in a way we never have before, to cry out to the One who has also known weakness, who has been tempted in every way, who knows the pull to give up, to move on, to pursue His own way. — Francis Chan

The kid pulled a Buck knife out of his pants pocket. "How about giving me your purse, bitch?"
Sally hiked up his skirt, reached into his briefs and pulled out a Glock.
"How about using that knife to slice off your balls?"
Lula whipped a gun out of her red satin purse and Grandma hauled out her .45 long-barrel.
"Day my make, punk," Grandma said.
"Hey, I don't want any trouble," the kid said. "We were just having some fun."
"I want to shoot him," Sally said. "Nobody'll tell, right?"
"No fair," Lula said. "I want to shoot him."
"Okay," Grandma said. "On the count of three, we'll all shoot him. — Janet Evanovich

Nicole's door opened, and she stomped down the hall. "I have something to say," she said, giving him the Slitty Eyes of Death. "You're totally unfair, and if I run away, you shouldn't be surprised." "Don't make me put a computer chip in your ear," Liam answered. "It's not funny! I hate you." "Well, I love you, even if you did ruin my life by turning into a teenager," he said, rubbing his eyes. "Did you study for your test?" "Yes." "Good." He looked at his daughter - so much like Emma, way too pretty. Why weren't there convent schools anymore? Or chastity belts? "Want some supper? I saved your plate." She rolled her eyes with all the melodrama a teenager could muster. "Fine. I may as well become a fat pig since I can't ever go on a date." "That's my girl," he said and, grinning, got up to heat up her dinner. — Kristan Higgins

This reminds me of the place in Genesis 4 where God looks at Cain, who is full of self-pity, and says to him, "Cain, sin is crouching at the door. Its desire is for you, but you must master it." What's important to understand is that the principle of self in your life is crouching at your door! It wants to have you, it wants to pounce on you, it wants to devour you. And it's up to you to do something about it. God asks that you deny yourself, that you lose yourself to find yourself. If you try to do this without the work of the Spirit, and without belief in all Christ has done for you, then simply giving up your rights and desires will be galling and hardening. But in Christ and with the Spirit, it will be liberating. — Timothy Keller

So you," she said, meeting his eyes, "are a librarian. What does that make me then? A seven-day loan?"
Daniel laughed as he set his book aside. He moved toward her and lightly gripped her knees.
"Seven-day loan ... I'm not sure I like the thought of giving you back." He slid his hands up her thighs and took her by the hips.
"But what about overdue fines?" she asked, playfully flashing her eyes at him.
"I think I can afford them," he said. Eleanor tried to voice another protest but his mouth was already on hers. — Tiffany Reisz

What is the spirit of Christmas, you ask? Let me give you the answer in a true story...
On a cold day in December, feeling especially warm in my heart for no other reason than it was the holiday season, I walked through the store sporting a big grin on my face. Though most people were far too busy going about their business to notice me, one elderly gentleman in a wheelchair brought his eyes up to meet mine as we neared each other traveling opposite directions. He slowed in passing just long enough to speak to me.
"Now that's a Christmas smile if I ever saw one," he said.
My lips stretched to their limit in response, and I thanked him for the compliment. Then we went our separate ways. But, as I thought about the man and how sweetly he'd touched me, I realized something simply wonderful! In that brief, passing interaction we'd exchanged heartfelt gifts!
And that, my friend, is the spirit of Christ~mas. — Richelle E. Goodrich

My arms quickly grew too tired, and all the heat I'd gained from the shower left me. Giving up, I tossed the towel to the floor, crawled between the covers, and curled into a ball. I couldn't even rub my feet together to try to generate more heat. Clay walked in and turned off the lights. I listened to the familiar rustle of clothes. Instead of the usual bounce of him jumping up on the end of the bed, he peeled back the covers, and the bed dipped as he slid in next to me. I didn't bother to pretend I wasn't interested in what he offered. Heat radiated from him, chasing the chill from the sheets. "I really hope you're wearing shorts or something," I said with a slight slur. I stuck my cold feet right on his legs and shimmied over to his side to huddle against his warmth. Boy, was he warm. It didn't matter, though. The shaking didn't stop, but I was too exhausted to worry about it. Sighing, — Melissa Haag

I didn't even think, just went with instinct. Opening my arms, I felt the tiny life placed there. Wrapping him close and tight to my chest, I felt my heart swelling with love. So small, so delicate. Using the tip of my finger, I traced his face, his little lips, his chin and cheeks, his eyes. "You're right, Tea, he is beautiful."

"He has your eyes," she whispered. "We still need to name him."

"Christian Simon Doyle. After your dad and your idiot friend."

Her voice sounded raw when she spoke again. "That's perfect."

"You're perfect. Thank you, Tea, thank you for my son, for our life, thank you for not giving up on me. — L.A. Fiore

Hey. She said, looking up from an open book propped up on one knee. She brushed a few strands of pale hair out of her face. Her boyfriend, Christian, lay on the floor near her, his head propped up on her other knee. He greeted me by way of a nod. Concidering the antagonism the sometimes flared up between us, that was almost on par with him giving me a bear hug. — Richelle Mead

When Lillian left work in the early evening the streets were slick and shiny with rain and the lamps flared yellow giving her the melancholy feeling that always came with the rain and the dark. She'd just struggled to push up her umbrella when the farmer from Saskatchewan came out of the shadows and tipped his hat again, very politely, and said could he escort her home? She put her small hand on his broad arm and held the umbrella over both their heads (he was very tall) and he walked her all the way back to her lodging-house where the landlady, Mrs Raicevic, looked after Edmund after school. By then, Lillian had learned the farmer's name and she said, 'Edmund, this is Mr Donner,' and Pete Donner squatted right down and said, 'Hello there, Edmund, you can call me Pete.' Although he never did, preferring to call him 'Pop' almost from the day his mother married him. — Kate Atkinson

Doc Daneeka gave him a pill and a shot that put him to sleep for twelve hours. When Yossarian woke up and went to see him, Doc Daneeka gave him another pill and a shot that put him to sleep for another twelve hours. When Yossarian woke up again and went to see him, Doc Daneeka made ready to give him another pill and a shot. "How long are you going to keep giving me those pills and shots?" Yossarian asked him. "Until you feel better." "I feel all right now." Doc Daneeka's fragile suntanned forehead furrowed with surprise. "Then why don't you put some clothes on? Why are you walking around naked?" "I don't want to wear a uniform any more." Doc Daneeka accepted the explanation and put away his hypodermic syringe. "Are you sure you feel all right?" "I feel fine. I'm just a little logy from all those pills and shots you've been giving me. — Joseph Heller

This Henry lived in Edinburgh, making him inaccessible and giving her something to do on the weekends - 'Oh, just flying up to Scotland, Henry's taking me fishing,' which is the kind of thing she imagined people doing in Scotland - she always thought of the Queen Mother, incongruous in mackintosh and waders, standing in the middle of a shallow brown river (somewhere on the outskirts of Brigadoon, no doubt) and casting a line for trout. — Kate Atkinson

The Doctor put his finger to his lips and Martha nodded and followed him as quietly as she could. Wet leaves squelched under her feet. There was movement up ahead: two teenagers, a pale boy and a nervous girl, walked into a clearing. The sun broke through the clouds and the boy started to sparkle.
Martha felt the Doctor's eyes on her and she blushed. 'Do not judge me.'
'Judging is for later,' he said, and they continued on, giving the young lovers a wide berth. — Derek Landy

What the hell is this stuff?" he muttered, frowning at the oily spot on the linen cloth. "Pearlman slathered it on me this morning."
"It's macassar oil. Gentlemen use it to keep their hair neat. Nicholas used it," she added pointedly.
"Well, tomorrow he's giving it up. I smell like a rotten apple."
"You do not. And I think it looks rather nice."
He sent her an incredulous look. "I look like an otter. And everything I put my head against gets greasy."
"That's why someone invented the antimacassar," she told him, almost smiling.
"The-aha!" He laughed as he made the connection. "Of course. First they invent something stupid, then something ugly to make up for it. We live in a wondrous age, Annie. — Patricia Gaffney

You are such a jerk" I know you did the glass and plate thing. That was so wrong!"
He held up his hands, laughing. "What? It was funny. The look on Bo's face was priceless. And the kiss he gave you? What was that? I've seen dolphins give hotter kisses than that."
"His name is Blake!" I punched his leg this time. "And you know it" I can't believe you acted like that. And he doesn't kiss like a dolphin!"
"From what I've seen, he does."
"You didn't see the last time we kissed."
His laughter died off. Uh oh. He turned to me slowly. "You've kissed him before?"
"That's none of your business." My cheeks flushed, giving me away.
Anger sparked in his magnetic eyes. "I don't like him. — Jennifer L. Armentrout

Pam went to the refrigerator and started piling some cold cuts and cheese on the table. "Katie, honey, hand me that bread over there," she said, pointing to the counter behind me.
I handed it to her and she smiled.
"Holt, I'm making your father a sandwich. Do you want one?"
"I'm starved," he said.
"You just ate!" I exclaimed.
"You ate all my bacon," he accused.
"I did not!" I laughed, reaching in for a slice of bread and throwing it at him.
He snagged it out of the air and took a huge bite.
Holt's dad grinned. "I like this one, son. Better not let her go."
"I don't plan on it," he said, giving me a meaningful stare.
I felt my cheeks heat and I made myself busy putting together a sandwich for him.
"Katie, make one for you too," Pam said, handing me the mayo.
"Oh, no. That bacon really filled me up." I grinned slyly. — Cambria Hebert

Right then, Mel came into the bar, hung her jacket on the peg inside the door and jumped up on a stool in front of her husband, elbows on the bar, leaning toward him for a kiss. "Holy shit," one of the men said. "Look at that one. Talk about a doe I'd like to bag." Jack straightened before meeting his wife's lips. The look on his face wasn't a pretty one. "You know," Mike said, laughing uncomfortably, "about our women. You boys don't want to be giving the women around here any trouble. Trust me on this, okay?" That set up a round of hilarious laughter at the table of hunters and one of them said, unfortunately too loudly, "Maybe the girl wants to get bagged. I think we should at least ask her!" But oops - glancing over his shoulder, Mike saw Jack had heard that. And probably so had Mel. And after what those two had been through earlier in the summer, comments like that were not taken lightly. And — Robyn Carr

I get why you had to choose him," he says. "I don't like it, but I understand it. I also know that giving one night to me doesn't take away the fact that you might be giving him forever. But like I said ... I'm selfish. And if one night with you is all I can get, then I'll take it." He lifts my head off his shoulder and tilts my face up to his. "I'll take whatever you're willing to give me. Because I know that if you walk out that door, then ten years from now ... twenty years from now ... we'll wish we had listened to our hearts when we think back on tonight. — Colleen Hoover

What would it hurt for me to give that homeless guy a couple bucks? Who the hell cares if he spends it on beer? Maybe beer is a step up for him from the harder stuff that knocked him onto the streets in the first place. Maybe, just maybe, he's actually going to spend it on food (homeless people do eat, right?). Maybe, he really is a desperate human being who is trying to change his situation. — Dan Pearce

I'll take another stab at talking to her."
"If you can't find a way, get Cooper to do it. You know how he loves controlling things. I'm sure he'll want to help."
"True, but once he starts meddling, he won't stop. I don't need him giving me pointers for the rest of my relationship with Lark."
"Lark," my mother said, testing out the name. "She had such a sweet smile. I could look at that smile for the rest of my life. Yes, go kick fate in the balls and get me a daughter."
"You have a daughter."
"A new one, I meant. Preferably one who likes to visit more than Anna."
Grinning at the thought of my alpha chick sister, I finished my juice and stood up. "I'll focus on a first date then worry about getting you a more compliant daughter. — Bijou Hunter

So this Logan guy, is he giving you a hard time about the wedding?"
"He's blackmailing me."
Kevin jumped to his feet so fast, she sat back in her chair. "He's a dead man. I'm going to kick his ass so bad he won't even be able to cry for his mommy. Gonna fold him up like a napkin."
His loyalty warmed her heart, even as embarrassment warmed her cheeks. "It's ... not what you're thinking."
"I'm thinking by the time I'm done pounding on his face, even dogs will be afraid of him. — Shannon Stacey

One stood behind me and ran her hands down my chest, her breasts rubbing against my back. The next stood in front of me holding onto my shirt and pulling me close to her as she ground into me seductively. The third danced slowly and seductively with the second girl, giving the girl-on-girl effect. I knew I was going to burst at any moment, so I had to close my eyes and take repeated deep breaths to calm down.
"What's the matter Aid-man, you feeling a little frustrated?" Dixon boasted from under his lap dancer.
"Shut up Dixon." Though I didn't really want him to shut up, his teasing was distracting me pretty well. "I'm going to kill you for this."
"Oh no little man!" He laughed loudly. "Thank your future wife! That one is on her!" he howled. — Sadie Grubor

I was adored [as a kid]. I was always in the air, hurled up and kissed and thrown in the air again. Until I was six, my feet didn't touch the ground. "Look at those eyes! That nose! Those lips! That tooth! Get that child away from me, quick! I'll eat him!" Giving that up was very difficult later on in life. — Mel Brooks

Maybe God doesn't care if we get all dressed up and sit in the pew every Sunday, as Diana believes. Instead, maybe God comes to us through men like Sloth, watching over us as we make our own decisions. Maybe God has always been with me. Opening doors, leading me to opportunities, letting me choose my own path, and loving me even when I chose the wrong one. Never giving up on me. Knowing all along that I am on a journey. That I must find my own way to Him. Maybe River was rights. Maybe God does still believe in me. — Julie Cantrell

Know what's going on."
Cam looked up in time to see both of his brothers' eyes focus on him. "Oh, come on. Why does it have
to be me?"
"You're the oldest." Phillip grinned at him. "Besides, it'll take your mind off Anna."
"I'm not brooding about her - or any woman."
"Been edgy and broody all week," Ethan mumbled. "Making me nuts."
"Who asked you? We had a little disagreement, that's all. I'm giving her time to simmer down."
"Seems to me she'd simmered down to frozen the last time I saw her." Phillip examined his beer. "That
was a week ago. — Nora Roberts

John laughed. "You know, I've heard all the sayings about the wrath of women, but whew, Scar, you have a temper."
The others chuckled.
"Keep it in mind, John Little," I warned him. I didn't feel much like chuckling.
He laughed. "I'll be sure to inform Jenny Percy," he said.
I rolled my eyes, but this time I heard a small laugh come from Rob's distant corner. "So she really kissed
Scar?"
"Should have seen it, Rob! Scar's right in the middle of giving her a talking-to, and Jenny lays one on her," Much
crowed.
"So that's how we shut her up," John said.
I knew he were fair close to me so I tried to kick him. It took a few attempts, but one finally hit something and I heard him whine, "Ow, Scar!"
"And none of you jumped in to defend - her - her honor?" Rob asked, but it got broken up with laughs.
"The lot of you are stupid blighters," I snapped. "It ain't for laughing."
This made them crack apart with howls. — A.C. Gaughen

Not long after he nodded off, he felt something and opened his eyes. She was beside him on the floor by the stove, wrapped in her sleeping bag, red hair all crazy from sleep. "I got cold, even with the sleeping bag," she said. "I'll feed the fire," Ian replied, sitting up and slipping a couple of logs into the stove. Then he lay back down, giving her room on the pallet beside him and, pulling her close, said, "Come here, little girl. Let me get you warm." "Hmm. That's what I need." "And what I need," he said, giving her a kiss against her temple. "Can — Robyn Carr

Manet wanted one day to paint my wife and children. Renoir was there. He took a canvas and began painting them, too. After a while, Manet took me aside and whispered, 'You're on very good terms with Renoir and take an interest in his future - do advise him to give up painting! You can see for yourself that it's not his metier at all. — Claude Monet

Buster went bananas, running over to Paci and jumping up on his legs, begging for attention. Paci didn't disappoint him, either. He bent down and baby-talked with Buster, like he was an old hand at it.
I smiled in amusement. Paci was no wimp. He was almost as big as Bodo and ripped to the max. He had zero body fat, so Peter and I were able to admire his every muscle, which I noticed Peter was doing with unabashed curiosity. I caught his attention and raised my eyebrows at him in a conspiratorial message of mutual admiration. He smiled in return, giving me a pitiful wink that made him look like he had something stuck in both eyes. It made me laugh.
Paci looked up at me. "Something strike you as funny?"
"Yeah. You baby-talking to a nude poodle. — Elle Casey

God won't permit temptation beyond your strength. It is true that temptations come to all, but God will give you the graces you need to withstand them, if you ask him to and if you are willing to cooperate with his grace ... In God's presence, consider: Do I put up a fight when temptations beset me, or do I give up quickly and surrender myself to them without a struggle? Do I rely on God's grace to conquer temptations, or am I conquered by them? — Patrick Madrid

At one time I was praying for the salvation of sinners, and the Saviour appeared on the cross by me, and talked with me; I laid my hand on his mangled body, and looked up in his smiling face. Another time I was meditating upon the love of God in giving his only Son to die for sinners, and of the beautiful home he was preparing for those who love him, and I seemed to float away, and was set down in the Beautiful City. Oh, the glorious sight that met my view can never be expressed by mortal tongue — Maria Woodworth-Etter

If I'd known you'd look so beautiful, I would've gotten dressed up," Loki teased when Finn and Thomas brought him into the War Room. Finn shoved him into a seat unnecessarily hard,but Loki didn't protest.
"Don't get familiar with the Princess, Duncant told him,giving him a stony look.
"My apologies," Loki said. "I wouldn't want to get familiar with anyone."
Loki looked about the room. Duncan, Finn, Thomas, Tove,the Chancellor, and I were the ones set to meet Sara. The rest of the house was on standby, should we need them,but we didn't want to look like we were ambushing Sara when she arrived.
"Did you change your mind and decide to execute me?" Loki asked,looking us over. "Because you all look like you're going to a funeral."
"Not now," I said, fidgeting with my bracelet and watching the clock.
"Then when,Princess?" Loki asked. "Because we only have about fifteen minutes until I leave."
I rolled my eyes and ignored him. — Amanda Hocking

He drew his chair closer and reached for her hand. "Kate, look at me," he said. Her chin was still pointing down, but her eyes came up to meet his. Her expression nearly drove the breath from him. How could she wear her feelings so openly and still function? "So now you know. I've never let myself get close to a woman because I'm not a good long-term bet. But I care for you. I've always cared for you." Without asking permission, he reached up behind her neck to stroke the heavy coil of her hair. He leaned forward, giving her plenty of time to pull away if she chose. She didn't. He kissed her softly on the mouth. Nothing had ever felt more right or natural than kissing Kate, and she didn't pull away from him. She leaned toward him and kissed him back. — Elizabeth Camden

I look over at Ed. He's staring out the window giving Leo the thumbs-down. I wait till he's looking at me, then I give him two fingers up. He gives me two fingers back. I give him the middle finger. He gives it back to me. I don't know any more signs, so I make up one. Three fingers. Take that, mister. He sticks up four. I call your four and raise you five. He skips straight to ten and does something with his thumb that disturbs me. I bounce my hands on my lap. Ed bounces his lap right back. — Cath Crowley

I picked up the butter-soft suede shirt and slacks and held them toward Martucci, but he bent over, grabbing at his stomach, and made it into the dark little cubicle in time to vomit into the toilet. He ran the small trickle of water in the sink over his hands, dabbed water on his face, then blotted himself on the rough paper towels. Within the next five minutes, he was dressed and deposited in the rear seat of my car between Haley and Finn. Vito, who had scared the living hell out of the hustler before giving him a kick in the ass out the hotel's side door, sat next to me as I drove. Vito was breathing heavily; it was the only sound in the car. — Dorothy Uhnak

The crew were all of them inclined to cough and sneeze, the boys particularly, and Keynes said, "We ought put them all in the water: to keep the chest warm must be the foremost concern."
Laurence agreed without thinking and was shortly appalled by the sight of Emily bathing with the rest of the young officers, innocent of both clothing and modesty.
"You must not bathe with the others," Laurence said to her urgently, having bundled her out and into a blanket.
"Mustn't I?" she said, gazing up at him damp and bewildered.
"Oh, Christ," Laurence said, under his breath. "No," he told her firmly, "it is not suitable; you are beginning to be a young lady."
"Oh," she said dismissively, "Mother has told me all about that, but I have not started bleeding yet, and anyway I would not like to go to bed with any of them," and a thoroughly routed Laurence feebly fell back on giving her some make-work, and fled to Temeraire's side. — Naomi Novik

How can he love me then not? He went,he ran. And I cannot bring him back. Yet I left the door metaphorically wide open, hoping he'd come back and bang on it proclaiming, "I want to be here with you. Always." Soon I'm going to have to shutit. For my safety and my sanity. Let go. I don't want to. Won't letting go be just that - letting go? Giving up? Admitting failure? Admitting that it is really, truly over? — Freya North

Cooper gave me a very serious expression. "I'm going to do something. Do not freak out. Be casual. Can you do that?"
"No," I said in a panic.
Cooper reached behind me and I felt his fingers on my ass. Forcing myself to stay very still, I felt him fiddling around then he pulled his hand away.
"That suit is old and it's riding up," he explained, taking a beer from his brother who walked by. "I didn't want anyone seeing my girl's ass cheeks."
"I didn't notice," I said, reaching behind me awkwardly.
"It's too hot out to notice. You're fine now."
"You could have just told me," I said then rolled my eyes. "But why would you when you could touch my ass instead?"
"My girl is pretty fucking smart," he said, giving me a big bright smile. — Bijou Hunter

He looked at me, eyebrows high and the sun glinting on his disguise-black hair. "You do the damnedest things in order to rile yourself up. Most people settle for doing it in an elevator, but not you. No, you have to make sure it's a vampire you're playing kissy-face with."
Heat washed through me, pulled by anger and embarrassment. Ivy had said the same thing.
"I do not!"
"Rache," he cajoled, sitting up to match my posture. "Look at yourself. You're an adrenaline junkie. You not only need danger to make good in the bedroom, you need it to get through your normal day."
"Shut up!" I shouted, giving him a backhanded thwack on his shoulder. "I like adventure, that's all. — Kim Harrison

Fire bursts inside me. My lips part under his. Coming up on my toes, I fist my hands in his hair and kiss him back, sharing the flames that lick at my soul. I breathe as he breathes, liquid heat in my veins.
He kisses me like I am water and he is parched. He is gentle and rough, taking and giving. In that moment, his kiss is all I know, all I ever want to know.
I come up higher on my toes and my lips cling to his as he pulls away. I'm left shaken and out of my element. I've never been kissed like that. I never imagined such a kiss existed. — Eve Silver

He imagined the future I could have before I even wanted it for myself, and he was the one to push me toward it. That's faith. Growing up, I thought faith was about believing Jesus died for us, and that if I held on to that, I'd get to meet him when I died too. But faith doesn't mean that to me anymore. Now it means someone seeing something in you that you don't, and not giving up until you see it too. I want that. I miss that. — Jessica Knoll

I think you people are just marvelous," she said in a dramatic manner, closing her eyes for a moment.

"You know, sometimes I hear the Great Spirit calling to me. Perhaps I was a squaw in my last life. My family would never talk about it when I was growing up, but I'm pretty sure my great-grandmother was a real Cherokee princess. Are you Cherokee, by any chance?"

"Cherokee to the bone, ma'am," Luther replied, giving Jimmy a wink.

"Oh, I knew it when I laid eyes on you," she responded and turned to Jimmy. "Are you also Cherokee?"

"No, ma'am. I wanted to be but I didn't have the grades to get in."

"Oh, you poor dear," the woman said, reaching over to pat him on the arm. — Robert Owings

I wanted to see if I could pick up some of those sticker badges you give out to kids. I like to give Jay a hard time about his little man-crush on you."
Her uncle's laugh filled his cramped office. "You're terrible, Vi. You act more like your aunt Kat every day. Has she been giving you lessons?" But he was already reaching into his desk drawer and pulling out a stack of the foil stickers. He slid them across the desk. "How's he ever gonna stop being so jumpy around me if you don't stop teasing him?"
This time Violet's smile was genuine. "Give him time, Uncle Stephen; he'll relax. He's just grateful, that's all. — Kimberly Derting

He lunges at me, pushing me against the wall of the elevator. Before I know it, he's got both of my hands in one of his in a vise-like grip above my head, and he's pinning me to the wall using his hips. Holy shit. His other hand grabs my hair and yanks down, bringing my face up, and his lips are on mine. It's only just not painful. I moan into his mouth, giving his tongue an opening. He takes full advantage, his tongue expertly exploring my mouth. I have never been kissed like this. My tongue tentatively strokes his and joins his in a slow, erotic dance that's all about touch and sensation, all bump and grind. He brings his hand up to grasp my chin and holds me in place. I'm helpless, my hands pinned, my face held, and his hips restraining me. His erection is against my belly. Oh my ... He wants me. Christian Grey, Greek god, wants me, and I want him, here ... now, in the elevator. — E.L. James

Such are the visions which ceaselessly float up, pace beside, put their faces in front of, the actual thing; often overpowering the solitary traveller and taking away from him the sense of the earth, the wish to return, and giving him for substitute a general peace, as if (so he thinks as he advances down the forest ride) all this fever of living were simplicity itself; and myriads of things merged in one thing; and this figure, made of sky and branches as it is, had risen from the troubled sea (he is elderly, past fifty now) as a shape might be sucked up out of the waves to shower down from her magnificent hands, compassion, comprehension, absolution. So, he thinks, may I never go back to the lamplight; to the sitting-room; never finish my book; never knock out my pipe; never ring for Mrs. Turner to clear away; rather let me walk on to this great figure, who will, with a toss of her head, mount me on her streamers and let me blow to nothingness with the rest. — Virginia Woolf

Swinging the door open, I took a sip. All of the coffee in the world wouldn't help if more visitors showed up at my door this early in the morning but the caffeine fortification was a bonus. The delivery guy pushed his clipboard at me. I held up my cup and raided my eyebrows.
We had an entire conversation in the next seven seconds with our eyes and eyebrows.
I told him that I wasn't giving up my coffee for his delivery. He told me that if I'd just sign on the damned dotted line he would get the hell out of here.
I replied in turn that if he'd hold the clipboard instead of shoving it at me (I threw in a nod here for good measure), I'd sign the damned line.
He finally sighed, turned the clipboard around and held the pen out.
I braced the door with my hip, grabbed the pen and scrawled Wilma Flinstone on the paper. — Nicole Hamlett

One day a little old lady came and asked my name, saying she couldn't read my nametag. I told her and reached for the little slip of paper she held, but she put it behind her back. It seemed she wanted to chat before giving it up. Fine with me. We chatted about our matching cardigans (the fact that I dress like a little old lady was not lost on me) and we chatted about how the Portland weather bothered her bones. We talked for a long while about her husband and how much she'd grown to hate him over the years. Then, since I guessed I'd earned her trust, she handed me her slip of paper. It was for a book on exotic poisons. I got her the book and spent the next few weeks scanning the obituaries for every old man that had died. So, yes, folks I may be an accomplice to murder. Don't say there's no excitement at the library. — Nick Pageant