Quotes & Sayings About Hot Pink

Happiness is a Slurpee and a hot pink straw. — Jenny Han

Let me say that whoever invented wanting, whoever came up with desire, whoever had the first one and let us all catch it like a hot-pink plague, I would like to tell that person that it wasn't fair of him or her to unleash such a thing upon the world without leaving us a warranty or at the very least an instruction manual about how to manage, how to live with, how to understand this thing that can happen in a person against her will, by which I mean desire and the need it gnaws in us and the shadow it leaves when it's gone. — Catherine Lacey

The middle seat holds an old woman, teeny, not much bigger than a doll. She is creased and wrinkled and rheumy-eyed. Her eyes, though, beneath their cloudy scrim, sparkle like emeralds. And she is bright. She is very bright. Her cheeks rouged a happy pink. Her sweater a hot pink, the vibrant color masking the heavy load on her sloped, thin shoulders. — Cherise Wolas

It had butterfly wings, like flakes of patterned wax. Under the wings it had a hairy body with tiny horns. Its fur looked very dry in the hot summer rays. It had an ox's head, no bigger than her thumbnail, with a pink muzzle drawn into a grimace. A white splodge between its nostrils. The impossible detail of a scar on its bottom lip. There was warmth and a heartbeat in its body like that of a newborn chick. — Ali Shaw

Hello, Anne's clitoris. It's me, Malcolm, your lord and master."
"Oh, god, no." I covered my face with my hands. "Please don't."
"Shh. This is a private conversation." He brushed hot, feverish kisses up and down the lips of my sex. My stomach tensed so hard it hurt. "Look at you all pretty, pink, and excited. Don't worry, I'll look after you. — Kylie Scott

She looked up, her face pink as a Christmas ham. "You ever try chasing down a car?" she gasped. "I'll one-up you. I gave Scott my hot dog and asked if he'd go to Summer Solstice with me." "What does the hot dog have to do with anything?" "I said he'd be a wiener if he didn't go with me." Vee wheezed laughter. "I'd have run harder had I known I'd get to see you call him a wiener. — Becca Fitzpatrick

What in hell is that?"
She kept going toward the bathroom, refusing to apologize or look down at the pink, delicate, very
short lace nightgown. When she emerged, face washed and clean, Rowan was sitting up, arms crossed
over his bare chest. "You forgot the bottom part."
She merely blew out the candles in the room one by one. His eyes tracked her the entire time.
"There is no bottom part," she said, flinging back the covers on her side. "It's starting to get so hot,
and I hate sweating when I sleep. Plus, you're practically a furnace. So it's either this or I sleep
naked. You can sleep in the bathtub if you have a problem with it. — Sarah J. Maas

Hot pink with a star done in rainbow rhinestones on the front. It was god-awful.
I bought it. — Richelle Mead

He stands confidently in his hot pink mankini. When I told him it was the only suit left, he literally shrugged and put it on. Tan skin, ripped abs and stylish wayfarers- he instantly looked cool even wearing that damn thing. And the girls playing water volleyball even gawked at his ass — Krista Ritchie

So she was considering, in her own mind (as well as she could, for the hot day made her feel very sleepy and stupid), whether the pleasure of making a daisy-chain would be worth the trouble of getting up and picking the daisies, when suddenly a White Rabbit with pink eyes ran close by her. — Lewis Carroll

Yeah,bumpers are for preschoolers or two teenagers who couldn't stop throwing gutter balls if their lives depended on it.Which, fortunately, they don't.Because we'd be screwed."
I grabbed my glittery hot pink ball (which I was seriously considering buying) and imitated the perfect form a Mohawked guy next to us was using. Instead of shooting straight down the lane and knocking over all the pins, my ball inexplicably went flying backward toward Lend.
"Okay,now we're getting dangerous." Lend brought my ball back and, wrapping himself around me,we threw it together. After pinballing off the bumpers on both sides,it knocked down a whole three pins.
I jumped up and down, screaming. "That's like, practically a strike,right?"
"Good enough for me! — Kiersten White

I was thinking about stopping at a restaurant. Would you care to join me?"
She shifted in the car seat to face him, causing him to glance at her legs once again. "Are you asking me out?"
"No."
"Will you purr if I tickle you behind the ears?"
"No."
"Will you dance the samba for me in your hot pink sequined thong?"
"No."
"Do you always say no?"
His mouth twitched. "No. — Kerrelyn Sparks

I know this looks pathetic, but I'm wearing black elastic-waist pants just like my mother's, a hot-pink fleece hat, mismatched socks, and no makeup. I think it's safe to say that vanity is no longer my biggest concern. — Lisa Genova

She's come to realize that life is a bit like doing laundry
you have to separate the darks from the lights. One's not necessarily better than the other
they're just different. They have different needs, require different levels of care. She knows plenty of customers who don't give it much thought and throw all their laundry in together, and maybe that's the chaotic part of life that just happens, that no matter how hard you try, you can't always keep things separate. A red sock gets mixed in with a load of whites, or a delicate black top gets washed in hot water by accident. These things happen. All you can do is learn from it and move on. Tell your husband to enjoy his pink underwear, give your shrunken top to your little sister or niece. But it doesn't mean that you stop sorting your laundry. You keep sorting
lights from darks, darks from lights
and hope for the best. — Darien Gee

He lifted the book from the purse. The cover sported a painting of a stunning redhead in a long, pink gown who stared out the window over rolling green hills. The cover was slightly narrower than the rest of the book, and from underneath peeked out what looked to be a second cover. He turned the page and was startled at what he saw. Another full-color painting, but this one of a shirtless man smashing the heavily bosomed redhead onto a red couch. Her clothes were torn and their torsos met violently. The man's face was savage; the woman's head thrown back in surrender.
Sam flicked back and forth between the image of the prim, composed woman on the front cover and her ribald, passionate abandon on the inside cover.
He glanced out the window to see Ally emerge onto the street below, her head held high and her gait tight and focused as she marched away, prim and composed.
He flipped to the inside cover.
Hot damn. — Diana Holquist

Bud, my self-defense and combat skills teacher, was still trying to get me to learn knife fighting. "Silver knives! Painful and sometimes deadly to nearly all paranormals!"
"Tasey!" I countered. "Hot pink and sparkly! — Kiersten White

All he wanted was a long, hot shower and a long, deep sleep.
Meaning that whoever this pissed-off brunette was, whatever deal she'd arranged with his flaky mother, they could talk about it after he'd scrubbed the jungle from his skin and rinsed the shampoo from his hair.
"What do you mean it belongs to you? It can't belong to you. I just rented it," said the girl aiming that pink blow-dryer right at his heart.
If he wasn't so damn exhausted, he might find that funny. She was holding the thing as if it would protect her. It was a blow-dryer! He nodded at it. "What do you plan to do with that thing, honey? Style me to death? — Tracy Brogan

He was wearing a scuba mask and snorkel set pushed off his handsome face . . . a set of flippers that slapped over the slick floor as he approached the pool's edge . . . a slingshot bathing suit that was hot pink . . . and a children's — J.R. Ward

I love a nice hot pink. I like thick lipstick, otherwise it doesn't look like you're wearing any. — Iris Apfel

A month or so ago, he and his friends had gone to Pizza House for slices after a game and he'd seen her in the kitchen. Her cap pushed back, she was carrying cold trays of glistening dough rounds, and her face had a kind of pink to it, her hips turning to knock the freezer door shut.
I didn't spit on it, Deenie had promised, winking at him from behind the scarlet heat lamps. He'd stood there, arrested. The pizza box hot in his hands. She looked different than at school and especially at home, and she was acting differently. Moving differently.
He couldn't stop watching her, his friends all around him, loud and triumphant, their faces streaked with sweat. — Megan Abbott

A cool red rose and a pink cut pink, a collapse and a sold hole, a little less hot. - Red roses. — Gertrude Stein

Hot pink looks cute on only janet which is MEEEEEEE!!! — Jeff Kinney

Captain," I said after ten steps, without breaking stride. "I do understand that this is the Genitalia Festival. But when you say genitalia, doesn't that usually mean genitals generally? Not just one kind?" For all the steps I'd taken, and as far down the corridor as I could see, the walls were hung with tiny penises. Bright green, hot pink, electric blue, and a particularly eye-searing orange. — Ann Leckie

Anyone? On Snow's visit before the Victory Tour, he challenged me to erase any doubts of my love for Peeta. "Convince me," Snow said. It seems, under that hot pink sky with Peeta's life in limbo, I finally did. And In doing so, I gave him the weapon he needed to break me. — Suzanne Collins

Brian knows the affair is wrong. He's known from the moment Wendy first undressed in his office. But with her hot, wet tongue in his ear, and her taut, pink nipples straining against his starched white shirt, and with Mick Jagger's strident voice squawking about satisfaction on the tiny transistor radio, Brian's body refuses to obey.
Instead of shoving Wendy out the door, he shoves her onto the unmade bed. — Alison Lurie

So, so you think you can tell
Heaven from Hell
Blue skies from pain
Can you tell a green field
From a cold steel rail?
A smile from a veil?
Do you think you can tell?

Did they get you to trade
Your heroes for ghosts?
Hot ashes for trees?
Hot air for a cool breeze?
Cold comfort for change?
And did you exchange
A walk on part in a war
For a lead role in a cage?

How I wish, how I wish you were here
We're just two lost souls
Swimming in a fish bowl
Year after year
Running over the same old ground
What have we found?
The same old fears
Wish you were here — Pink Floyd

Every girl needs to make an entrance. It's part of her signature. My hot pink high heels hit the sidewalk and I straightened. My blue jean skirt was brand new and had a bunch of totally rad colorful ruffles on it. My neon green top was spandex and fit like a glove. — Cambria Hebert

So Nash and I went out and there were redheads and there were brunettes and there was even a super-hot chick that looked kinda like Pink but you think any of them did it for me? No, Shaw not one because they weren't fucking you and ever since you walked out on Sunday all I've been thinking of is you. Now why is that? — Jay Crownover

There must be quite a few things a hot bath won't cure, but I don't know many of them. Whenever I'm sad I'm going to die, or so nervous I can't sleep, or in love with somebody I won't be seeing for a week, I slump down just so far and then I say: 'I'll go take a hot bath.'
I meditate in the bath.The water needs to be very hot, so hot you can barely stand putting your foot in it. Then you lower yourself, inch by inch, till the water's up to your neck.
I remember the ceiling over every bathtub I've stretched out in. I remember the texture of the ceilings and the cracks and the colors and the damp spots and the light fixtures. I remember the tubs, too: the antique griffin-legged tubs, and the modern coffin-shaped tubs, and the fancy pink marble tubs overlooking indoor lily ponds, and I remember the shapes and sizes of the water taps and the different sorts of soap holders.
I never feel so much myself as when I'm in a hot bath. — Sylvia Plath

Now this greatest tent staled out hot raw breaths of earth, confetti that was ancient when the canals of Venice were not yet staked, and wafts of pink cotton candy like tired feather boas. In rushing downfalls, the tent shed skin; grieved, soughed as flesh fell away until at last the tall museum timbers at the spine of the discarded monster dropped with three canon roars. — Ray Bradbury

He sat on the edge of my bed. He didn't say anything at first, just stared at my toenails. I curled them under instinctively and immediately was worried that I'd messed up my painting job. I let them uncurl. Only one was marred. I used my thumb to rub most of the polish off of it and then I stared at my foot, which suddenly looked so vulnerable and imperfect with the one toe ringed in hot pink polish but bare on the inside of the nail. Like I'd started but had forgotten to finish being beautiful. — Jennifer Brown

Silver knives! Painful and sometimes deadly to all paranormals!'
'Tasey!' I counterd 'Hot pink and sparkly! — Kiersten White

salivating wolf was in hot pursuit of Lizzie Hearts, who kept shouting, "Off with its head! Off with its head!" "I'll help you!" Hunter rushed toward Lizzie Hearts, pausing first to rip off his shirt, place his fists on his hips, and strike a bold pose. Out of nowhere, trumpets played a heroic fanfare. "Oh!" Cupid said in surprise. The winged, pink-haired girl had transferred to the school just that year. "I didn't realize there would be so much trumpeting and tearing of shirts at Ever After High." "Hunter does that," Raven whispered to Cupid. "The shirt thing. We're not really sure why. — Shannon Hale

My name is Olivia King
I am five years old.
My mother bought me a balloon. I remember the day she walked through the front door with it. The curly hot pink ribbon trickling down her arm, wrapped around her wrist. She was smiling at me as she untied the ribbon and wrapped it around my hand.
"Here Livie, I bought this for you."
She called me Livie.
I was so happy. I'd never had a balloon before. I mean, I always saw balloons wrapped around other kids wrists in the
parking lot of Wal-Mart, but I never dreamed I would have my
very own.
My very own pink balloon. — Colleen Hoover

Once he'd had happiness but for so brief a time; happiness was made of quicksilver, it ran out of your hand like quicksilver. There was the heat of tears suddenly in his eyes and he shook his head angrily. He would not think about it, he would never think of that again. It was long ago in an ancient past. To hell with happiness. More important was excitement and power and the hot stir of lust. Those made you forget. They made happiness a pink marshmallow. — Dorothy B. Hughes

I glean a few times a week, and it's all about the subject line. I look for the lyrical, "Billowy Red Scarf Girl" or the funny, "Hipster Chick Who Passed Gas," the unintentionally funny, "Looking for the Hot Girl in Pink Dress," ones that immediately suggest images, "Furry Arms Under a Yellow Umbrella," or the plain odd, "Seeking Girl Who Bit Me Twice ... " I don't think I've ever abandoned one ... the images usually arrive fully formed in my head as soon as I read the message, and I decide whether to draw it or not. — Sophie Blackall

No one accused Frederick James Furnivall of averageness, and his career highlights the ups and downs of editorial scholarship. As eccentric as he was energetic, a Christian socialist turned agnostic, Furnivall gained a reputation for hot pink neckties, sculling on the Thames with shopgirls, and hours toiling over manuscripts in the British Museum. — James Turner

the hot day made her feel very sleepy and stupid), whether the pleasure of making a daisy-chain would be worth the trouble of getting up and picking the daisies, when suddenly a White Rabbit with pink eyes ran close by her. There was nothing so very remarkable in that; nor did Alice think it so very much out of the way to hear the Rabbit say to itself, 'Oh dear! Oh dear! I shall be late!' (when she thought it over afterwards, it occurred to her that she ought to have wondered at this, but at the time it all seemed quite natural); but when the Rabbit actually took a watch out of its waistcoat-pocket, and looked at it, and then hurried on, Alice started to her feet, for it flashed across her mind that she had never before seen a rabbit with either a — Lewis Carroll

Hi, Dean," Allie says breathlessly.
"Hey, Allie." His voice is like hot water sliding over a polished floor. "How's that boyfriend of yours treating you?"
Allie smiles, her face getting a little pink. "Really well, thanks."
"Good." Dean reaches out to give my long ponytail a gentle tug. "And how's that husband of yours treating you, Liv?"
I meet his gaze, my heart thumping at the potent combi- nation of heat and tenderness in his eyes. "He does all right."
"Guess he'd better work harder, huh?"
"Couldn't hurt."
"God, you two. Get a room." Allie fans herself with a magazine and rolls her eyes. — Nina Lane

Dear A & M, I talked to the manager of the Beauty Bar because I definitely saw you guys getting married against a hot pink backdrop, but he doesn't think we can fit more than fifty people inside and I'm thinking three hundred. How would you feel about getting married in the park? It might get cold, but you could ride a horse-drawn carriage to the ceremony. How do you feel about matching wedding crowns? -Isabelle — Cassandra Clare

He reaches into his pocket and pops a handful of jelly beans into his mouth. Logan does the same. Logan points to Sean's mouth. "Dude," he says. "That color's not great on you." I look at Sean again, and my lipstick is smudged all over his lips. I laugh. I must look a sight if he looks like that. He wipes at the corners of my lips with his thumbs. "Next time, I'll wear pink," I whisper. "I don't care what you wear," he says. His gaze is hot, and my belly flips. "I'd like to see you wearing nothing." He looks into my eyes, his expression full of longing. He presses his lips to mine briefly. "I can't get used to the fact that I can kiss you whenever I want." "Says who?" I taunt. "That's what boyfriends do, Lacey," he says, as if he needs to remind me. My stomach flutters again. I step onto my tiptoes and pull his head down to mine. I kiss him, holding onto the back of his neck, until we're both breathless, and I'm whimpering. "Yea," I agree. "That's what boyfriends do. — Tammy Falkner

Sulfuric ether was sweet and hot, pungent and burning to the palate. It did not smell the least, to Nardi, of turpentine, but rather of large, white, oversweet flowers, fat, fleshy, prehistoric in their size and substance. He thought of these flowers as fringed, mouthed, and pistiled with sticky aroma, with pink-tipped, translucent styles and stigmas that moved in flower throats like beckoning fingers. Lush, languorously heavy, meltingly ephemeral, an indulgence to the New World tropics or an Old World greenhouse - something akin to night-blooming cereus. Ether, to him, was the nectar of such flowers, gathered and carried in the mouths of foot-long bumblebees, its aroma as old as Egypt, as modern as white walled hospitals, as personal and familiar as his own vague euphoric befuddlement. — Judy Cuevas

You two have a lot to learn about being subs."

"Maybe, but I can't believe how turned on I am," Rory whispered.

Jack smiled at her. "I can." He sat on his knees and his gaze traveled over her body to the neat pink Lycra V between her legs. "You've soaked your bottoms already." The grin on his face was wicked. "Take them off. — Alyssa Turner

There were redheads and there were brunettes and there was even a
super-hot chick that looked kinda like Pink but you think any of them did it
for me? No, Shaw not one because they weren't fucking you and ever since you
walked out on Sunday all I've been thinking of is you. — Jay Crownover

Why would someone request that their toenails be painted at a podiatrist's? Hot pink, even. We are not a salon. When I told the guy that, he got really irate and left. — Lindy Zart

He was sensitive, so he had to be kind. I think of it whenever I see a young woman fawning all over a nerdy guy, some comedian or actor, thinking he couldn't ever be cruel because he's funny and he wears glasses. He's not conventionally hot, so he's not full of himself, so he'll be a good boyfriend, right?...Guys like that always seem to think they're Duckie from Pretty in Pink when they're actually Steff. — Mara Wilson

I'm going to go out on a limb here and guess we're going to a party."Her mood suddenly lifts and she grins impishly. "What gave it away?"I eye her outfit and count down on my fingers."Four things: leather shorts, pink highheels,knee high socks,and a sparkling top. "She sticks out her hip and pops up her foot, striking a pose. "Come on, admit it,I look
hot.""You look like a - "She tosses a pillow at me."Watch that dirty mouth of yours, Death Girl. — Jessica Sorensen

I'd once again see that bob of blonde hair back on my pillow, that pink hot smile beaming toward me as I heroically win her heart in some kind of Count of Monte Cristo or Great Gatsby-esque gesture ... you know minus the long imprisonment or swimming pool death! — Tom Conrad

I'm terribly sorry, Anna. I've forgotten my manners. I thought you were ... someone else." He stuck out his hand. "I'm Kaidan Rowe."
I peeled one arm away from my tight self-embrace to take his hand. Every inch of my skin broke out in goose bumps, and my face suddenly burned hot. I was glad for the dimmed lighting. I wasn't one of those people who blushed pink in the cheeks; I blushed crimson in the whole face, and my neck became splotchy. Not cute. — Wendy Higgins

Furi gripped Syn's ass in a grip sure to leave finger-marks and slammed his hot mouth over his cock, taking him down to the base in one swallow. An animalistic lust coursed through him with an intensity he'd never felt. Syn was hit hard with hunger and he roughly grabbed two handfuls of Furi's hair and pumped his cock as far down his throat as it could go while he loudly groaned his release. Sweltering heat surrounded his cock as he shot jet after jet of hot, thick come inside that heavenly cavern. Syn had absolutely no poise or courtesy as he used the hell out of Furi's mouth, fucking his dick in between those pretty pink lips until he had no strength left. Furi — A.E. Via

Alec surprised Magnus and the werewolf both by breaking away and lunging at Marcy. Whatever he had been planning, it didn't work: this time the werewolf's swipe caught him full in the chest. Alec went flying into a hot pink wall decorated with gold glitter. He hit a mirror set into the wall and decorated with curling gold fretwork with enough force to crack the glass across.
"Oh, stupid Shadowhunters," Magnus moaned under his breath. But Alec used his own body hitting the wall as leverage, rebounding off the wall and up, catching a sparkling chandelier and swinging, then dropping down as lightly as a leaping cat and crouching to attack again in one smooth movement. "Stupid, sexy Shadowhunters. — Cassandra Clare

The first cut wasn't the deepest. No, not at all. It was like all the others, a subtle rend of anxious skin, a gentle pulse of crimson, just enough to hush the demons shrieking inside my brain. But this time they wouldn't shut up. Just kept on howling, like Mama, when she was in a bad way. Worst thing was, the older I got, the more I began to see how much I resembled Mama, falling in and out of blue, then lifting up into the white. That day I actually thought about howling. So I gave myself to the knife, asked it to bite a little harder, chew a little deeper. The hot, scarlet rush felt so delicious I couldn't stop there. The blade might have reached bone, but my little brother, Bryan, barged into the bathroom, found me leaning against Grandma's new porcelain tub, turning its unstained white pink. You should have heard him scream. — Ellen Hopkins

I'll wear it,' Frost interrupted, the thought of hot pink undoing him. — Scarlett Dawn

He chuckled. She turned to see what was funny and nearly had a heart attack.
He was holding one hot-pink-and-white mug while reading it, the other sitting on the counter: 'Men should be like my curtains, easy to pull and well hung. — Terry Spear

I got used to birds: small black birds flying up from behind a building like God had tossed up a handful of currants, birds squalling in the parking lot of the grocery store (drowning the hum of industrial refrigerators), chachalacas -brown robed nuns to the spangled disco dancer peacocks - cackling in the dust of our yard. I got used to the chatters, squeaks, squalls, peeps, calls that sounded like bitter laughter, whistles, flutes, calls that sounded like souls ascending to heaven. I got used to dust and flatness, to sunsets like pink water pouring from the sky, flooding the earth with orange soda. I got used to wind: the hot, cruel wind of afternoon, the merciful magnolia breeze of night. I got used to it. But then I had to go. — Kathleen Founds

You're sure you don't need me to walk you home? I say, lifting my eyebrow and giving her my most flirtatious smile.
She refuses but blushes deeply-hot pink spreading across her cheeks. As usual, I feel a wild rush of success. I love flirting more than food. Or even fighting. And evoking a blush is one of the most satisfying results I can hope for.
I like this girl, I find myself thinking. I'm actually looking forward to her being around. — Amy Plum

Spread over what must have been at least a hectare or two was the most beautiful garden he had ever seen.
There was an entire miniature forest of cedar, cypress, and other sweet-smelling pines that couldn't normally live in the hot and dry Agrabah. There were formal rows of roses and other delicately petaled flowers. There was a garden just of mountain plants. There was a pool filled with flowering white lilies and their pads, and pink lotuses taller than most men. There was a fountain as big as a house and shaped like an egg. There was a delicate white aviary that looked like a giant's birdcage. Strangely, there were no birds in it.
And everywhere, entwined around every tiny building and every balustrade and every topiary ball, was jasmine. White jasmine, pink jasmine, yellow jasmine, night-flowering jasmine... the smell was heady enough to make Aladdin feel a little drunk.
Jasmine.
This was her garden. — Liz Braswell

This place is just too frickin precious," the cop said, eyeing a guy dressed in a hot pink leisure suit with makeup to match. "Give me rednecks and home-grown beer any day of the week over this X-culture bullshit. — J.R. Ward

You should really go inside now," he said.

Her glazed, unfocused stare was starting to clear, and the cranky look he was used to being levelled at him started to take shape. "And if I don't?"

"You want to fuck me on your doorstep?" he asked, his voice low and gravelly. "Call me tomorrow when you're sober. I'll be right over."

She jutted her chin defiantly - clearly pissed at him for trying to be the responsible one. "I won't need you after I've spent all night with a couple of multi-speed toyfriends and a box of batteries."

Linc shoved his hands on his hips, pushing back unhelpful images of her naked and pleasuring herself with a hot pink cock. "Go inside," he growled.

Before he did something crazy like offering to watch. — Amy Andrews

Grandma was wearing a blond Marilyn Monroe wig, a hot pink tank top, black Pilates pants, and black kitten heels. She looked like the senior version of an inflatable sex toy doll that needed more air. — Janet Evanovich

I frowned."You didn't dress up!"
He grinned,opening my door for me. "Sure I did.I dressed up as the non-invisible man!"
I smacked him in the chest. "Lazy."
"Hey,I wear a costume every waking hour. You only dress up once a year,which I believe makes you the lazy one.However,you look really hot in pink tights,so I'll let it pass."
"How noble of you. — Kiersten White

I'm not afraid of anything. My two favorite colors are lime green and hot pink. I mean, I really like pink. And I don't care who knows it. I'm already married, sooo ... — Bubba Watson

Where's Kahn?"
"In bed. You don't mind if I pet your little pink kitty? Do you?"
I chuckled, "You mean my HOT DIGGITY DOG. — Giorge Leedy

Where the hell are you, Cimil?"
"Popping tags with Roberto," she replied.
"Popping what?" he asked.
Cimil growled. "You shame Macklemore - I'm at a thrift store. Where else would a goddess find a microwave for her potpie and a new pair of pink hot pants? And a Lee Majors doll! Score! — Mimi Jean Pamfiloff

And this is the Marilyn section," says Budge. "You can have five different hairstyles, and in the outfits you get a choice too, depending on what movie. That's from Gentlemen Prefer Blondes, the pink dress; there's the black suit from Niagara, and over there is the all-girl jazz band one from Some Like It Hot ... " "Where are these headed for?" says Stan. "The Oprahs. Are they that into Oprah, in Holland?" "You name it, someone's gonna be fetishistic about it," says Derek. "Our biggest customers are the casino operations, — Margaret Atwood

I stepped out of the bathroom in a black dress and hot pink heels.
America whistled. "Hot damn, Mama!"
I smiled in appreciation, and Travis held out his hand. "Nice legs."
"Did I mention that it's a magic razor?"
"I don't think it's the razor," he smiled, pulling me out the door. — Jamie McGuire

He wore pink linen slacks, white sneakers and a canary yellow open-neck shirt. He evidently thought himself hot stuff. — Basil Copper

People assume that because I'm a girl and my blog is hot pink that my readership is 90% women, but it's not. It's probably only about 65%. When I do tours, it's pretty much the same thing: it's about one-third guys. — Jenny Lawson

Did he put hands on you?"
"Not quite. I think that was going to be next, but O'Brian drew him off. Before that, Clifton got pissy I wasn't telling him whatever he wanted to know and accused me of being an ass kisser. I responded that I have yet to have the privilege of kissing your ass, which I rate as the best - female variety - in the department."
"That sounds like a pucker-up to me."
Peabody snorted. "It was worth it. He went all puce. Or is it fuchsia? Which is the weird name that means hot pink?"
"I have no idea, nor want one. — J.D. Robb

Hot pink, I'm sure she spent a few minutes debating it - was she tan enough, maybe the navy silky sleeveless top instead, can't go wrong with navy - and over her shoulder, a cognac Prada the exact same shade as her shoes, the perfect match more age revealing than the skin starting to pucker in her neck. She had at least ten years on me, I determined, relieved. — Jessica Knoll

Each hand held a shoe and a handful of skirt, the hem of her pale blue polonaise gown raised above the knee, exposing satin ribbons which held up her white stockings. The ribbons were a bold cerise, like her lips, which were pulled wide in a girlish grin - inviting and ripe with unspent kisses - a hot-sweet ring of nubile, innocent fire. High cheeks, pink with natural rouge, gave — Samantha Kaye

Despite the disreputable company it keeps, bismuth is harmless. In fact, it's medicinal: Doctors prescribe it to soothe ulcers, and it's the 'bis' in hot-pink Pepto-Bismol. Overall, it seems like the most out-of-place element on the periodic table, a gentleman among scoundrels. — Sam Kean

It asked readers, "Hot pink dress-is it a do or a don't?" Now here's my question about this poll: who cares? If you want to wear a pink dress, wear a pink dress. It doesn't matter what other people think. One hundred percent of the people polled could say a pink dress is a "do" and guess what? I still ain't wearing one. — Ellen DeGeneres