It's Hot As Hell Quotes & Sayings

I've sometimes imagined that if sin had a flavor, it might very well be bacon. It even tastes smoky, as if it emerged piping hot out of the fiery pans of hell — George Takei

But if you really learn how to pay attention, then you will know there are other options. It will actually be within your power to experience a crowded, hot, slow, consumer-hell type situation as not only meaningful, but sacred, on fire with the same force that made the stars: love, fellowship, the mystical oneness of all things deep down. — David Foster Wallace

A kiss, then Brady said, "Hey, sweetheart."

As he pulled away, I turned, grinning ear to ear. "Hey, Brady - "

I halted when I saw his shirt, mostly because I was laughing too hard to continue. My face went hot, from 98.6 to 200 degrees in a second flat. It wasn't the only part of my anatomy to react, either.

The shirt was white and clinging, hot as hell on him, of course. But stenciled in spray paint across the chest in the usual blocky lettering were the words FUCK ME, ETIENNE.

"Tried to convince the band to change our name, but they didn't go for it. I settled for the shirt. — Katey Hawthorne

Hot as hell isn't he?' Exie questioned from over my shoulder.
'Yeah, I guess he is'
'You guess? Are you blind? Girl, he is so fine it's scary. I nearly had an orgasm the other day when he asked me a cup of tea. But don't stare too hard, Meagan will scratch your eyes out if she catches you staring at her man.' Exie said with a high eyebrow warning. — Jennifer Loren

Mia might be the hottest girl I have ever seen ... okay, she is the hottest girl I have ever seen in life, and the sweetest. And I'm so horny for her that my dick actually hurts. It motherfucking hurts. But the girl's got enough to deal with. And me spending an invariable amount of time around a hot girl that I cannot put my dick inside ... it's just not possible. I might as well be in prison. Or hell. That's it, I'm in hell.
Towle, Samantha (2013-11-18). Trouble (p. 99). Kindle Edition. — Samantha Towle

These are my rapists, the ones that turned me inside out, ripped my mind from my body and shredded it. They are also, unfortunately, hot as hell. — Karen Marie Moning

She has vivid pictures of Hell. It is as hot as Rajputana in June and everyone is made to learn seven foreign languages ... — Salman Rushdie

The fact was that, as droves of demon kings had noticed, there was a limit to what you could do to a soul with, e.g., red-hot tweezers, because even fairly evil and corrupt souls were bright enough to realize that since they didn't have the concomitant body and nerve endings attached to them there was no real reason, other than force of habit, why they should suffer excruciating agony. So they didn't. Demons went on doing it anyway, because numb and mindless stupidity is part of what being a demon is all about, but since no one was suffering they didn't enjoy it much either and the whole thing was pointless. Centuries and centuries of pointlessness. — Terry Pratchett

Her eyes widened. I assumed in alarm, but who the hell knew what was going on in her stubborn head. I took the coffee cup from her hand and rested it on the grass next to mine. I leaned in toward her slowly. Her eyes remained steady on mine. Just as I was so close I could feel her warm erratic breath on my face, her hand landed on my chest.
"What are you doing?" she whispered.
Maintaining eye contact I smiled, reached out, held the back of her head and pulled her closer still. "What I should have done ten years ago." ~ Preston, A Perfect Moment — Becca Lee

Don't get me wrong - he's hot as hell, and in another life I would have liked to wear him as a mink coat. But when your first thought about someone is wondering whether they're some sort of handsome woodland serial killer, it's hard to build an attraction. — Karsten Knight

BDSM is like visiting a kinky Amusement Park. Once you pay the entry fee, you hop on an erotic roller coaster of deviant self-discovery. Although I have the threat of pain before me, I'm not even close to wanting to get off of this ride. It's such a fucking thrill. Or is that a thrilling fuck? Whatever. Either way, it's as hot as hell. — Nikki Sex

It's hot as hell as can be. — Eugene Ormandy

Hot shame swarmed over me at the naive, star-struck, and broken hearted little girl he saw me as. And it made me mad as hell. — Natasha Boyd

I kinda like Florida. It's hot as hell, but we moved to Tallahassee, which is so close to Georgia. It really wasn't Florida the way people think of Florida. It wasn't south Florida. But you could still easily drive to Panama City Beach and get a little bit of Redneck Riviera if you want that. Get some airbrushed T-shirts on, and you're done. — Tony Hale

It might be late September, but is was hot as the six shades of hell. — Charlaine Harris

How Nicky went all fierce before he hung up. It was kinda hot actually."

"Gross, Leah." I stand up and make a grab for the purple dress she's scrunching in her hands. "That's my brother."

"What? I can't think your brother's hot?"

"No. It's a rule," I inform her as I toss the dress on the bed and peel off my hoodie. I drop it on the floor. "Thou shalt not covet thy best friend's brother or thy best friend shalt barf."

Off goes my white tank top, and I peel the gym shorts down my legs without inhibition. After years of locker rooms, stripping in front of my friend and teammate isn't much of a big deal.

"Thou friend has eyes in her head, and he's hot as hell so shut your mouth. — Kate McCarthy

Hamlet is to Macbeth somewhat as the Ghost is to the Witches. Revenge, or ambition, in its inception may have a lofty, even a majestic countenance, but when it has "coupled hell" and become crime, it grows increasingly foul and sordid. We love and admire Hamlet so much at the beginning that we tend to forget that he is as hot-blooded as the earlier Macbeth when he kills Polonius and the King, cold-blooded as the later Macbeth or Iago when he sends Rosencrantz and Guildenstern to death. — Harold Clarke Goddard

She looked away and mumbled something.

"I'm sorry I don't speak mumble," he said while eying the piping hot apple muffin with streusel topping that she just took out of the bag. Hell, how had he missed that delicious little morsel?

His hand seemed to have a life of its own as it crept towards that tasty little treat. With a gasp, Haley's hands came down to protect her muffin.

"Control yourself!" she hissed as she broke off a small chunk and ate it. His eyes went back to the muffin. He knew he was pouting when Haley rolled her eyes and continued to eat. Damn it, where was the love? He was a hungry man. With a sigh, he opened his bag and pulled out one of the three coffee rolls he'd ordered and began eating them all while keeping his eyes on that muffin. — R.L. Mathewson

You land a second strike, this time just on my left cheek. It feels hard already and stings like hell. I imagine the red mark it has left on my behind as I thank you. As the belt catches my right buttock, I squeeze my eyes shut. I know my tears are close. You strike me again and again. You vary the location and the intensity; somehow never letting me settle into a pattern with the pain. I try to keep count in mind, but after fifteen I am lost in the hot, stinging sensation of my behind. — Felicity Brandon

Canada?" Ash said. "You didn't say it was in Canada.
"I said Ontario." (Maya)
"I thought you meant Ontario, California."
"Seriously?" Tori said,rolling her eyes. "A helicopter to California? You may be hot,but your sister clearly inherited all the brains in the family."
"Did she call me hot?" Ash whispered to me, looking more annoyed than he ever did when someone called him a jerk.
"She hasn't been on a date in six months", Derek rumbled behind us. "No offense, but as long as aren't related to her, you're fair game. Hell, even
"
Tori spun on him. "I didn't know."
"Um, wait a sec," Corey said. "So Ash is hot and I'm seriously cute? Is there a difference?"
"Yes," Hayley said, and propelled him through the line. — Kelley Armstrong

After a couple seconds his eyelids fluttered at the scent that was wafting off Detective Michaels. Damn 'em all to hell. He smelled like something he wanted to rut against and come hard on. Fuck. Judge rolled his window down all the way. He'd rather smell the trash on the street than get a hard-on for this good-smelling, eager-to-prove-himself, straight asshole. He chanced a look at Michaels and was shocked to see him slouched and confident riding with him. He had a dark pair of aviator shades on, staring out the window with one hand propped on the door. It was almost as if he didn't know he was hot. And damnit if that wasn't sexy in itself. — A.E. Via

You'll be my wife," he said inexorably.
"You want to own me!" she accused, trying to crawl away from him.
"Yes." He flung her down on the bed and flattened his weight on her. As he spoke, his hot breath fanned
her mouth and chin. "Yes. I want other people to look at you and know you're mine. I want you to take
my name and my money. I want you to
live with me. I want to be inside you ... part of your thoughts ... your body ... all of you. I want you to
trust me. I want to give you whatever elusive, impossible, goddamned mysterious thing it is you need in
order to be happy. Does that frighten
you? Well, it frightens the hell out of me. Don't you think I'd stop feeling this way if I could? It's not as if
you're the easiest woman in the world!! — Lisa Kleypas

Whatever cleaning goes on on the planet, women do 99% of it. But see, women are not as proud of their 99% as men are of our one! We clean something up, we're gonna talk about it all year long. It might be on the news, you don't know. A woman could be out re-paving the driveway. Men actually have enough gall to walk out onto the porch and go Hey baby? Man, it's hot as hell out here! Look, don't worry about emptyin' that ashtray in the den, I done got it, all right? Did it for you, sweet pea. I'm gonna take a nap now. — Jeff Foxworthy

I am also at this point accustomed to reaffirm with emphasis my conviction that the sun is real, and also that it is hot--in fact as hot as Hell, and if the metaphysicians doubt it they should go there and see. — Winston S. Churchill

Frozen, I stood staring at him like he was a vision or something. His hair was still damp, and a few droplets glistened on his face. When he caught me, warmth burned across my cheeks.
"Were you just ogling me, Angel?"
"No, I wasn't."
He chuckled. "I think you were."
I whirled around and swept my hands to my hips. "Fine I was ogling you. Happy now?"
"Actually I am. I like it when you look at me like you want me. Like you think I'm ... handsome."
My brows rose in surprise. "Handsome? That doesn't sound like the way you would describe yourself."
With a grin, he asked, "And just how would I describe myself?"
"Hmm, sexy, hot as hell, and panty melting?" I challenged as I handed him a Coke.
"Yeah, you're right. Those really describe me better. — Katie Ashley

I didn't know it would get this hot," she said. "It's hot as hell."
"Hell is hotter."
"Sounds like you've been there."
"I've heard it from someone. They make it hotter and hotter till you think you'll go crazy; then they move you someplace cooler for a while. Then when you're recovered a little they move you back again."
"So hell it's like a sauna."
"Yeah, more or less. But a few can't recover and go totally bonkers."
"So what happens to them?"
"They get sent up to heaven, where they're forced to paint the walls. You see, the walls in heaven have to be kept a perfect white. As a result, they have to keep painting from dawn till dusk every day. It messes up their respiratory systems big time. — Haruki Murakami

When I was a child I burnt the back of my right hand on a hot iron.

I can't recall the pain, but there's an eye-shaped scar as testament to it. As a teenager I used to think it was the all seeing eye of the anti-Christ and that I was the devil incarnate. Or at least a minion.

It was my right hand, innit?

What I do remember though is my father, or Dad as we called him, abandoning the polite Abbu, telling me not to cry and to be patient because the fires of hell were seventy times hotter than the fire of the iron. — Ruth Ahmed

If you're automatically sure that you know what reality is, and you are operating on your default setting, then you, like me, probably won't consider possibilities that aren't annoying and miserable. But if you really learn how to pay attention, then you will know there are other options. It will actually be within your power to experience a crowded, hot, slow, consumer-hell type situation as not only meaningful, but sacred, on fire with the same force that made the stars: love, fellowship, the mystical oneness of all things deep down. Not that that mystical stuff is necessarily true. The only thing that's capital-T True is that you get to decide how you're gonna try to see it. — David Foster Wallace

The pit is prepared, the fire is made ready, the furnace is now hot, ready to receive the wicked: the flames do now rage and glow. The God that holds you over the pit of hell, much in the same way as one holds a spider or some loathsome insect, abhors you and is dreadfully provoked ... He will trample them beneath His feet with inexpressible fierceness; He will crush their blood out, and will make it fly, so that it will sprinkle His garment and stain all His raiment. — Jonathan Edwards

How had he lost the upper hand so quickly? His dick jerked and wept like it had found the happiest place on earth. He was gonna come, but he'd be damned if he did it before Michaels. He dropped his arm from around Michaels' chest and gripped him on his hip, using it to slam that sexy ass back into him while he jerked him fast with the other. He felt Michaels' dick jump in his fist and knew it was time. Good because he was past time. "Fuckin' come," he hissed, snapping his hips forward at the same time he squeezed the head of Michaels' dick. He went down on that length one more time, squeezed hard, twisted his palm and shot his fist back up, wrenching the first spurt of hot come from it. Yesssss. Michaels grunted with the next spurt and worked his ass hard against Judge's aching dick. The sounds he made were delicious and wicked. Sounds he'd never heard a man make. Masculine but erotic as hell. Not ashamed to show Judge how much he'd pleased him. It — A.E. Via

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

He decided to go over a couple of blocks to Michael's Tavern for something cold, and as he walked beside the road he felt his anger burning up in the heat of noon, and saw himself, as he often did when he was outdoors on hot days, being forged in enormous fires for some purpose beyond his imagining. He was only walking down a street toward a barroom, and yet in his own mind he took his part in the eternity of this place. It seemed to him - it was not the first time - that he belonged in Hell, and would always find himself joyful in its midst. It seemed to him that to touch James Houston was to touch one iota of the vast grit that made the desert and hid the fires at the centre of the earth. — Denis Johnson

He'd never felt this protective of a woman before. Only she brought that out in him. That powerful, odd mixture of independence and vulnerability completely melted him.
The fact that she flew a Black Hawk and could talk shop with the best of them? Hot as hell. And her laugh. God, she had the dirtiest laugh he'd ever heard. Every time he heard it he thought of sex. Hot, sweaty sex, the kind that left a man exhausted and weak and his partner unable to move. — Kaylea Cross

When you stand in front of me and look at me, what do you know of the griefs that are in me and what do I know of yours? And if I were to cast myself down before you and weep and tell you, what more would you know about me than you know about Hell when someone tells you it is hot and dreadful? For that reason alone we human beings ought to stand before one another as reverently, as reflectively, as lovingly, as we would before the entrance to Hell. — Franz Kafka

It takes a lot of moola to fool around with national magazines, regardless of their politics. It takes even more if the paper is hell bent on shoving a hot poker up the rear end of the Establishment, as that editorial posture is not conducive to a massive influx of advertising dollars ... a lot of people on the left still cherish the idea that Ramparts went under because I bought people drinks. — Warren Hinckle

You meet that chick yet?" "Who?" "Emily. The coffee shop chick." "Briefly." "You should make that shit less brief. Woman's fuckin' hot as hell, the right kinda pain in the ass and so sweet she made my motherfuckin' teeth hurt. Jenna's it for me. But if she wasn't, I'd be drinkin' coffee for every meal and eaten the coffee chick's pussy for dessert. — Norma Jeanne Karlsson

If you look at anybody who's been marketed, it's been somebody who has been drop-dead hot and gorgeous,' Milbrett said. 'For men, you just have to be good. It doesn't matter what the hell you look like. For women, you have to be good and you have to be gorgeous. Maybe you're not even the best one on your team. Just as long as you look good, you're marketed. People's opinions are that this team is gorgeous. That doesn't bother me. What bothers me is the double standard in society and athletics. — Jere Longman

Kat laughed and gripped his wrists. "How turned on?"
"Oh, I'm at about eighty percent and quickly gaining."
"I've been at a frustrating ninety percent for two weeks. I walked in a drugstore and got hot and bothered in the hair-products aisle."
Alec threw back his head and laughed. "Holy shit, Kat. My life was boring as hell before you.'

Uittreksel van: Megan Erickson. 'Make It Count'. iBooks. — Megan Erickson

But thinking is something different, altogether! Think always as if the hot hand of hell were grabbing for you. Think to the limit of your mind. Imagine, dream, hope, want things, drive yourself to goodness. Whatever you do ... do it to the absolute best of your ability. Never take the easy way where thinking is concerned. — James A. Michener

Inspirations sleet through the universe continuously. Their destination, as if they cared, is the right mind in the right place at the right time. They hit the right neuron, there's a chain reaction, and a little while later someone is blinking furiously in the TV lights and wondering how the hell he came up with the idea of pre-sliced bread in the first place.
Leonard of Quirm knew about inspirations. One of his earliest inventions was an earthed metal nightcap, worn in the hope that the damned things would stop leaving their white-hot trails across his tortured imagination. It seldom worked. He knew the shame of waking up to find the sheets covered with nocturnal sketches of seige engines for apple-peeling machines. — Terry Pratchett

Aw, come on, it's just hot as hell there and my AC doesn't even make a dent. Let's try for something cooler."
~ Loki ~ — Lora Leigh

We are as forlorn as children lost in the wood. When you stand in front of me and look at me, what do you know of the griefs that are in me and what do I know of yours? And if I were to cast myself down before you and tell you, what more would you know about me that you know about Hell when someone tells you it is hot and dreadful? — Franz Kafka