Jeans Pants Quotes & Sayings

Margaux looks around the table; this is not working. All of a sudden she's thinking about a safe room, something she's only heard of but suddenly wants: water, oxygen, bulletproof door, dead bolts, a thousand books. Utterly quiet. Completely silent. No girls she barely knows in saggy leather pants, no girls in mesh strippers' gloves and jeans sanded thin as a bee's wing, and no girls who can't stay home one night a year because they are always and forever out. On their way to. Coming from.
And then her heart open. Just a little, but it does. Because she remembers all that. How she felt then: the self-reproach, the utter confusion ... That's why her heart opens. For those girls at the table who always feel baffled and sad, tender and malign, repulsive and desirable, innocent and contemptuous of innocence.
So she cries. For them, mostly. For herself a little ... everything hesitates. So that for a second there's no sound in the enormous room but that of Margaux sobbing. — Ron Koertge

It's not your bra. It's our bra and I want it off." I slip it off her, pulling her against me as I rub my hands down the length of her back, then around to the button on the front of her jeans. "And I want to take off our pants."
She grins against my lips and slowly nods. "Okay, but hurry," she whispers.
"I can be quick," I assure her. "But I'll never hurry. — Colleen Hoover

I slip her shirt over her head and she tries to cover herself, but I move her arms out of the way and kiss up her neck while I talk about all the things that are no longer just mine.
'Will, stop.' She laughs and attempts to pull my hands away from her bra. 'You can't take off my bra, we're in our driveway. What if they come outside?'
'It's dark,' I whisper. 'And it's not your bra. It's our bra and I want it off.' I slip it off her, pulling her against me as I rub my hands down the length of her back, then around to the button on the front of her jeans. 'And I want to take off our pants. — Colleen Hoover

We began the process of learning how incredibly difficult it is to live with someone who is totally anal and slightly OCD (ahem ... Victor). And someone who is perpetually accidentally hot-gluing herself to the carpet, and who is sort of mentally unstable, but in an "At-least-I-still-remember-how-pants-work" kind of way (cough ... that'd be me). Victor remarked that comparing myself with the sometimes naked hermit next door wasn't exactly a strong mental-wellness benchmark, especially since I often ended up pantsless myself. I raised my eyebrow at his seemingly seductive remark until I realized he was referring to the time he found me half naked because I'd just hot-glued my jeans to the carpet. — Jenny Lawson

Got your stuff?"

Nora's checks flushed. "Um, yeah, but..."

"What?"

"My hand hurts so much, and I need two hands to do my button. Could you...um..."

He furrowed his brow, unsure what she meant as she trailed off, blushing more now. Following her gaze, he glanced down at her pants. Sure enough, her jeans were on but unbuttoned, revealing a peek of the tiny green short-shorts from her uniform.

He chuckled and reached forward, buttoning her jeans for her. "I've never put pants on a woman before, but I'll make an exception this time."

"I appreciate your sacrifice," she said sarcastically, and Kane decided then and there that he wanted to see her smiling like that all the time. — Sarah Robinson

But what really won me over was his butt. What finally made it impossible for me not to like the man was how right out there on the Adventist basepaths, right in front of eighty or ninety of the kind of pious adult spectators who spent their every Sabbath if not their entire lives trying to forget the existence of things like butts, Beal's buns were trying to light a fire by friction inside his jeans; they were gyrating like a washing machine with its load off balance; they were thrashing against his pants like two big halibut against the bottom of a boat. And the wonderful thing, the amazing thing, was how once his older audience got over the shock of it, they began to look amused at, then fascinated by, and finally downright grateful toward his writhing reminder that yes, buns did exist, and yes, every one of us owned not one but two of the things, and yes, like the God who created them in His Image, they did indeed move in mysterious ways. — David James Duncan

At home, a T-shirt and something loose like harem pants would do. If I'm stepping out, a pair of blue jeans and a white tee are just fine. — Genelia D'Souza

I make my own pants because I don't wear jeans. They are like golf pants. I just like to put a little funk into everything. — Blake Lewis

I really like crop tops. I like how you can dress them up or down, with jeans or a skirt and heels. I like to be showy and cute. I don't want to be in just a jacket and pants and boots. — McKayla Maroney

Kiss me," he growled.
"I shouldn't - "
"I. Don't. Give. A. Damn."
Well hell. My lips touched his - barely. I pulled back and looked at him - unfamiliar, dangerous, and so exciting. I devoured his mouth without thinking. Don't think, just touch. I ran my fingers across his strong shoulders and down his arms. His skin felt hot under my hands, his body hard. He sucked in his abs so I could get into his pants, if I wanted to. I slid one hand over his stomach and under his jeans, touching his hard cock, smiling when he groaned. — Amelia James

They don't understand that it's hard to be her, to be shopping with them.
Like when Dana had pointed out a pair of jeans that Jennifer HAD to try, before darting into another section. Skinny girls can walk by a table full of pants, piled in high stacks, and peel a pair off the top. Easy. Effortless. But not girls like Jennifer. — Siobhan Vivian

When I swung the door open, Nathan looked me up and down. "Uh, hi." He awkwardly looked at my outfit and then down at his own black pants and t-shirt.
We both laughed and walked into the room side by side.
Warren rolled his eyes. "Geez," he said. "Should I change? I feel like I don't fit in with the mob squad." He was wearing jeans and a blue t-shirt. — Elicia Hyder

I like suits. I mean, I always feel good in a suit; I'm more of a suit guy than a shirt-and-jeans-type guy, probably. You know, like, I love Brad Goresky's style. And sometimes he'll wear a pair of, like, leopard pants, and I'm like, I couldn't pull that off, but I appreciate it from afar. — Jesse Tyler Ferguson

Isabelle took out her invitation and waved it like a white flag. "I have an invitation. These" - she indicated the rest of the group with a grand wave of her arm - "are my friends."
Magnus plucked the invitation out of her hand and looked at it with fastidious distaste. "I must have been drunk," he said. He threw the door open. "Come in. And try not to murder any of my guests."
Jace edged into the doorway, sizing up Magnus with his eyes. "Even if one of them spills a drink on my new shoes?"
"Even then." Magnus's hand shot out, so fast it was barely a blur. He plucked the stele out of Jace's hand - Clary hadn't even realized he was holding it - and held it up. Jace looked faintly abashed. "As for this," Magnus said, sliding it into Jace's jeans pocket, "keep it in your pants, Shadowhunter. — Cassandra Clare

I'm really clumsy, so I trip and fall a lot. And every time I perform in New York my pants split onstage. That's happened four or five times. Every time, I pull on my mom's jeans as fast as I can, so there we are, standing backstage without our pants on. It's like a curse. — Jessica Simpson

People always want an explanation about everything and I cannot give it to them. Because I don't know myself. 'Why did you do a pair of pants like that?' I have no idea. I'm not going to have a 20-minute political discussion about the necessity for slashed, painted leather jeans. Basically, I don't know more than you. — Hedi Slimane

Guys are so not into high-waisted things. I love high-waisted jeans. We all think that high-waisted things are flattering and awesome and beautiful and we're rocking it, and guys are always like, 'Ugh, she's wearing those high-waisted pants.' — Behati Prinsloo

Simple. Pared down. Timeless. The ties were never too thick or too thin; the pants were never too flared or too skinny. In my life with Dad, he wore Western apparel because we went riding - jeans, cowboy boots, the turquoise belt buckle. But it was all very simple, and that classic look is very 'Ralph Lauren.' — Jennifer Grant

When I was growing up, there were so many things I thought were stylish. Jabo jeans, V Bombers, Clarks, Vikings, Nugget watches, Lee pants with the patches, leather hats - which I still wear now. All hip-hop stuff, all South Bronx stuff. — Swizz Beatz

Who lives in a pineapple under your jeans?" He sang softly. "SpongeBob booty pants!" He ended his little song with a soft slap to my rear. — L.D. Davis

I had such a distaste for '70s clothing. So, the '90s were a rough period for me because I got made fun of for wearing what they used to call "pegged pants." Now they call them "skinny jeans." — Justin Theroux

Dr. Pervy-Pants
Dr. Depravity
Dr. Ain't-Puttin'-Out
Dr. Bossy-as-Fuck
Dr. Obsessive-Compulsive
Dr. Kinkybones
Dr. Deviant
Dr. Oh-So-Proper-I-Iron-My-Jeans
Dr. Lick-My-Boots
Dr. Smug-as-Shit
Dr. Love-Me-Love-My-Butt-Nozzle
Dr. Damn-Your-Dick-is-Motherfucking-Big
Dr. Full-of-Shit
Dr. Smack-a-Lot
Dr. Ruined-Me-For-Anyone-Else — Finn Marlowe

When I spot Alex leaning on his motorcycle waiting for me in the parking lot, my pulse skips a beat.
Oh, boy. I'm in trouble.
Gone is his ever-present bandanna. Alex's thick black hair rests on his forehead, daring to be swept back. Black pants and a black silk shirt have replaced his jeans and T-shirt. He looks like a young Mexican daredevil. I can't help but smile as I park next to him.
"Querida, you look like you've got a secret."
I do, I think as I step out of my car. You. — Simone Elkeles

Contrary to conventional wisdom, the blue blazer's a bit of a loose cannon. A suit decided long ago what it wanted to be, and it doesn't want to hear your ideas, but a blue blazer only got around to half the job. So it leaves it up to you to find its bottoms. Gray slacks, blue jeans, patterns, white pants and different blue shades all work. — Willie Geist

Where's my cell phone?" I ask. "And please put a shirt on."
He reaches down and grabs my phone off the floor. "Why?"
"The reason I need my cell," I say as I take it from him, "is to call a cab and the reason I want you to put a shirt on is, well, because, urn ... "
"You've never seen a guy with his shirt off?"
"Ha, ha. Very funny. Believe me, you don't have anything I haven't seen before."
"Wanna bet?" he says, then moves his hands to the button on his jeans and pops it open.
Isabel walks in at that exact moment. "Whoa, Alex. Please keep your pants on. — Simone Elkeles

Why should I ignore them? In my own house? Spiteful snobs! I've appalling taste, do I? I'm skeletal, am I? Anyone would look skeletal next to them. They are both starting to look like porkers! As soon as I go down, I'm going to mention it. I'm going to particularly point out Isolde's thunder thighs. I suppose it's appalling good taste to display them in such tight jeans. I'm going to ask how she even got into those pants without splitting the seams. — Sonal Panse

Whenever I eat at a restaurant I never put the napkin in my lap. People say, 'Hannibal, why don't you put the napkin in your lap?' Because I believe in myself. I believe in my ability to not spill food in my pants 'cause I'm a goddamn adult. And I've mastered the art of getting food from my plate to my mouth without messing up my jeans. You need to believe in yourself, too and get your life together, that's for babies. Have some confidence in your eating abilities and hand/eye coordination. — Hannibal Buress

I was wearing women's jeans way before it was cool for guys to wear them. I have a weird torso - it's incredibly short, and only girl-pants fit me properly. — Matthew Gray Gubler

When you revealed that the Rani was in fact the Nagi," Charlie said, "the players collectively pissed their pants."
"I'd rather they creamed their jeans. — Walter Jon Williams

As for this," Magnus said sliding the stele into Jace's jeans pocket, "keep it in your pants, Shadowhunter." - 219 — Cassandra Clare

I really identify with being a bookworm. I love reading, learning and books. I mean, I have 1000 books, all catalogued, already in my specially made library my dad made me. Books are my friends. I live in sweat pants and workout gear or t-shirt and jeans. I dress more for comfort than for fashion. I dress up if I have to go out but I can't wait to come home and take off the makeup, heels and scratchy clothing. — Tania Marshall

You got your designer blue jeans, your designer shoes, your designer luggage. Now Miss Fancy Pants got her some designer pussy. — Susan Elizabeth Phillips

There was one dude in a jeans jacket who I swear to God shit in his pants when all of a sudden I was inches away from his face playing drums in the air. — Tommy Lee

I need to have a quick wardrobe. Two or three blazers with dark gray pants, two pairs of jeans, two light blue shirts, a casual shirt, two pairs of shoes, one formal one not. Small accessories like Tod's Greca belt and our woven bracelets for a wild touch. — Diego Della Valle

I have a really simple wardrobe. I wear a low-scoop tee every day with a tux or leather jacket and tux pants or black jeans. That's pretty much it. — Johan Lindeberg

That's a wonderful side effect of leather pants: when you pee yourself in them, they're more forgiving than jeans. — Slash

He stands up, slowly, and puts his hands on the zipper of his jeans, where I notice there's a bulge that looks like someone stuck a cucumber in his pants. That can be his ... thing, can it? He undoes the button then his fly and then slides his jeans down. He's wearing those tight boxer-briefs things, like that guy in the Calvin Klein commercial, and I realize, it's definitely not a cucumber. — Sarah Darer Littman

...Stella's tiny butt stuck in the air as she stretched to reach a weed. She was wearing a pair of jeans and a button-down pink and white checked shirt that was tucked into the elastic waistband of her pants. She reminded Rusty of an elf. "Excuse me, Stella?" "You stop right there if you have trouble on your mind. As you can see, I have plenty of birds, and I'll knock you out with one of them," Stella said without looking up. Rusty wanted to say that she'd yank up her own plastic flamingo and work Stella over with it in a heartbeat. Instead, she took a calming breath and said, "I made something you might like to have." "If it's a grenade launcher, I'm listening, Achmed. — Robin Alexander

Mascara was dripping down her cheeks, splattering on her shirt. She backed away from him, eyes narrowing. Her shoes squished with the movement and, as she peered uncomprehendingly down at them, a tadpole emerged from the leg of her jeans and flopped about on the ground.
"Eem!She pointed a shaking finger at it. "A tadpole. I had a tadpole in my pants!"
"Lucky tadpole," he murmured.
-Adam and Gabrielle — Karen Marie Moning

Personally, I'm a simple dresser. I usually buy my own clothes. Jeans, T-shirts, summer dresses and track pants. Whenever I get the time or see a shop that catches my fancy, I buy something. — Katrina Kaif

I was surprised he could do any amount of labor wearing the pants he had on. I don't understand skinny jeans for men. Who wants to walk around with their balls in a vise? — C.J. Roberts

Larry had brought me blue jeans, a red polo shirt, jogging socks, my white Nikes, an extra cross from my suitcase, the silver knives, the Firestar complete with inner pants holster, and the Browning and its shoulder holster. He'd forgotten a bra, but hey, except for that it was perfect. — Laurell K. Hamilton

Was definitely throwing out those fuckin' jeans of hers tommorrow. Doesn't matter how fuckable a woman looks in a pair of pants if you can't get them off when it is time to tap ass. — Joanna Wylde

She'd been taught that pants were inappropriate for girls because they were immodest [ ... ] If women's pants were suggestive, men's were equally so, and they revealed a great deal more of what was underneath them. There was almost always a bulge
you couldn't help but notice it
and if the pants were tight, you could see practically everything. And the way men were always drawing attention to it! Touching and scratching themselves with total unselfconsciousness, as if they were alone and not in public. She'd even seen Aidan do it a few times, absent-mindedly. And yet no one accused men of being improper or of encouraging sin by reminding women of what hung between their legs. She looked at herself in the mirror, irritated suddenly by the double standard. This was how her body was made. The fact that it was well made and encased in a pair of blue jeans didn't mean she was inviting anything. — Hillary Jordan

Part of her wanted to comfort him, to tell him everything was going to be okay. But the rest of her just wanted to throw him to the ground and rip those jeans off him. Funny how she could be so jealous of a pair of pants. They covered the sinfully male body she longed to explore. — Rosalie Lario

beach. They were perfectly safe. Michael's head crested the dune again. Then his shoulders, the rump of his blue jeans, the short barrel of his machine gun. He was crawling on his belly along the top of the dune, crushing the sea grass, filling his shirt and the pockets of his pants with sand. She would have to remember to shake him out before he got into the car. — Alice McDermott

Some of the men were dressed like Peter and wore red plaid hunting jackets or bulky tan Carhartt jackets or lined flannel shirts, and all of those men were wearing jeans and work boots. Some of the men wore ski jackets and hiking boots and the sort of many-pocketed army green pants that made you want to get out of your seat and rappel. Some of the men wore wide-wale corduroy pants and duck boots and cable0knit sweaters and scarves. It was a regular United Nations of white American manhood. But all the men, no matter what they were wearing, were slouching in their chairs, with their legs so wide open that it seemed as though there must be something severely wrong with their testicles. — Brock Clarke

I have always dressed a little bit differently, even when I was in school. I would wear skirts over pants because I went to a Christian private school and wanted to wear short skirts, but we had to wear skirts below our knees, so I put on a pair of jeans underneath so I could wear the skirt, too. When you become an artist you have to be so aware of what you're wearing all the time, but I've definitely wanted to stay classy, girlie, and feminine - I won't walk around in my bra or trashy clothes. I don't feel attractive that way. — Stacie Orrico

If I'm not going out, my go-to outfit is some comfortable pants, Vans, and a fitted tee. But if I'm going out, definitely some Diesel jeans, either some super cool boots or nice shoes, and then a button-up. — Sterling Beaumon

Natalie, if I was fixin' to offer a proper thank-you," he said, his Texas accent clear and present in his voice, "I'd kneel down right here and slide your jeans over your hips, down your damn-near perfect legs. I'd toss your pants across the room, followed by your panties. And then I'd lick you until the whole bar heard you come. Screaming. My. Name. — Sara Jane Stone

I always imagined that when I got pregnant it would be awesome and everything would go perfectly, and I'd pose for all those artfully naked, pregnant Demi Mooresque pictures and put them all over my house, and suddenly I'd have less cellulite, and then I'd go into labor while I was standing in line at the bank, but it would be okay because the baby would get stuck in my pants leg, so it totally wouldn't slam into the floor. Thank God for skinny jeans with maternity panels; am I right? — Jenny Lawson

So would you like to try on some clothes?" Beth nodded at what was in her arms. "I don't have many dresses but Fritz can get you some."
You know what?" Marissa eyed the blue jeans the queen had on. "I've never worn a pair of pants before."
I've got two pairs here if you want to try them out."
Well, wasn't this a night for firsts. Sex. Arson. Pants. — J.R. Ward

For a long time, I refused to wear jeans. I liked high-waisted pants, but jeans made me feel like I wasn't being unique. Even now, I won't wear the skinny-jeans style, because most people wear those - they have to be baggier, boyfriend-looking, or sort of like a mom jean. I'm real funny that way. — Elle Fanning

Her shoes squished with the movement and, as she peered uncomprehendingly down at them, a tadpole emerged from the leg of her jeans and flopped about on the ground.
"Eew!" She pointed a shaking finger at it. "A tadpole. I had a tadpole in my pants!"
"Lucky tadpole," he murmured. — Karen Marie Moning

Wilson exchanged his cello for a second set of keys and a clean shirt and jeans. He hadn't been splattered by vomit, but he insisted he reeked of it. I had never seen him in anything but slacks and dress-shirts. The T-shirt was a snug soft blue, and his jeans were worn, though they looked expensive. He hadn't bought them at Hot Topic. Why is it that you can see money even when it comes wrapped in a T-shirt and jeans?
"Nice pants," I commented as he approached me at the door.
"H-huh?" Wilson stammered. And then he smiled. "Oh, uh. Thanks. You mean my trousers."
"Trousers?"
"Yes. Pants are underwear, see. I thought . . . um. Never mind."
"Underwear? You call underwear pants?"
"Let's go, shall we?" He grimaced, ignoring the question and pulling the door closed behind him. He looked so different, and I tried not stare. He was . . . hot. Ugh! — Amy Harmon

You're going to stop distracting me while I drive," he said and there was no humor in his voice. "Do you understand?"
"Jeans tight?" I asked, daring him.
Judd narrowed his eyes at me in a rather scary way. Instead of shirking away from him, I remembered how it was his job to get me to Ellsberg safely. Narrowing my eyes, I glared right back at him. We held those angry gazes for a few minutes then he grinned.
"Yes," he said, answering my question as he stared at the now moving traffic. "So shut up, will ya? — Bijou Hunter

I remember the rules, rules that were never spelled out but every woman knew: Don't open your door to a stranger, even if he says he is the police. Make him slide his ID under the door. Don't stop on the road to help a motorist pretending to be in trouble. Keep the locks on and keep going. If anyone whistles, don't turn to look. Don't go into a laundromat, by yourself, at night.
I think about laundromats. What I wore to them: shorts, jeans, jogging pants. What I put into them: my own clothes, my own soap, my own money, money I had earned myself. I think about having such control.
Now we walk along the same street, in red pairs, and not man shouts obscenities at us, speaks to us, touches us. No one whistles.
There is more than one kind of freedom, said Aunt Lydia. Freedom to and freedom from. — Margaret Atwood

I feel the most confident in whatever I'm feeling at that time. Sometimes it's leather pants, a leather jacket, and a band tee, and it's motorcycle-chic. Then there are times that it's skinny jeans, a tank top, and a denim jacket. It's whatever I'm feeling that day. — Ruby Rose

He made quick work of undoing Syn's belt and dropping his pants and briefs to his ankles. Furi took Syn's length all the way to the back of his throat and held him there. "Augh. Furious!" Syn yelled, grasping at Furi's shoulders. Furi had to take the edge off for his lover and then he had to get to work. And he had to take care of himself too, since his dick was just as hard and aching. Syn fucked Furi's mouth while he unbuttoned his jumpsuit and anxiously dug inside his jeans, pulling himself free. He moaned deep in his throat at the first contact of cool air on his hot dick. No doubt the vibration drove Syn crazy because he grasped Furi's hair and started slamming his cock in and out, the rhythm of his hips already faltering. "Gonna — A.E. Via

I don't want to go back into that dressing room and take off my boots and my pants and start putting on jeans only to discover that the ones you brought me are all too tight, and then when I ask for the next size up, be informed that they're the biggest size you carry. I can't take that today. Seriously, I'll blow my head off. So look at me, look at my ass, look at my gut, take it all in, and then tell me honestly if you anticipate we're going to have a problem. — Sarah Dunn

That's right, honey, state your claim on Mr. Yummy Pants. I'd do the same if I were you.
A grin ticked at my mouth. I swept my gaze over the muscled roundness of Bones's ass, which his black jeans only highlighted. Then I gazed at the snug fit of the front that had nothing to do with the cut of the denim. Finally, I met Tyler's chocolate-colored eyes and winked back. — Jeaniene Frost

I think leather pants are just better than jeans onstage; they give the performance a nice attitude, and they are also shockingly comfortable. Comfort is key. — Jessie Baylin