Kiss My Son Quotes & Sayings

[Parker] "We know why I kissed you last night, Maris."
"To frighten me off."
He frowned. "That doesn't even merit an argument. I kissed you because you braved Terry's and showed up everybody in the place, including me. I kissed you because just looking at you made me ache. I kissed you because I'm a rotten son of a bitch and your mouth looked so goddamn kissable. Simply put, I kissed you because I wanted to. It's something I admit and you damn well know. But there is one question that's driving me fucking crazy."
His eyes focused harder on hers and, by doing so, penetrated. "Why did you kiss me back? — Sandra Brown

All she could think of was how pure and unblemished, how soft and pink his baby skin had been. How his wonderful body, small and pristine, used to feel in her arms, how she'd kiss every inch of him, marveling at his beauty. When she was a new mom, she'd felt like she couldn't pull her eyes away. Now she cast her eyes back at her catalog quickly, not wanting to look at her own son, at what he'd seen fit to do to his beautiful body ... Not a big deal, Mom, he said reading her mind ... Lot's of people have tattoos. — Lisa Unger

The friendly preacher who fails to warn of the reality of Hell, betrays the Son of God with a kiss. — Ray Comfort

But ... it's a nice day today, the birds is singing, there's stuff like ... kittens and stuff, and the sun is shining off the snow, bringin' the promise of spring to come, with flowers, and fresh grass, and more kittens and hot summer days an' the gentle kiss of the rain and wonderful clean things which you won't ever see if you don't give us what's in that drawer 'cos you'll burn like a torch you double-dealing twisty dried-up cheating son of a bitch! — Terry Pratchett

It's so hard for me to sit back here in this studio, looking at a guy out here, hollering my name! - When last year I spent more money, on spilled liquor, in bars from one side of this world to the other, than you made! You're talking to the Rolex wearing, diamond ring wearing, kiss stealing, whoa! wheelin dealin', limosuine riding, jet flying son of a gun and I'm having a hard time holding these alligators down! — Ric Flair

Now, remembering Daniel's blustering description of Grant's weekend companion, Justin controlled a grin. "Daniel mentioned you were bringing-an artist."
Grant recognized, as few would have, the gleam of humor in Justin's eyes. "I'm sure he did," he returned in the same conversational tone. "I haven't congratulated you yet on ensuring the continuity of the line."
"And saving the rest of us from the pressure to do so immediately," Shelby finished.
"Don't count on it," a smooth voice warned.
Gennie looked up to see a blond woman descending the steps, carrying a bundle in a blue blanket.
"Hello,Grant. It's nice to see you." Serena cradled her son in one arm as she leaned over to kiss Grant's cheek. "It was sweet of you to answer the royal summons. — Nora Roberts

We kiss and hug our kids a lot! And even now when our son lives 3,000 miles away, we talk every day, sometimes several times. — Gloria Estefan

And now O kings, be ye wise. Be admonished, ye judges of the earth. Serve the Lord with fear and rejoice with trembling. Kiss the Son lest He grow angry, and ye perish in the way for His wrath may quickly kindle. — Kouta Hirano

Your holiness!" She raised her voice, forcing herself to sound tearful and
supplicatory. "If we are to die, would you let me kiss him one last time?"
She half expected Taka to react to her uncharacteristic behavior, but he didn't
move, didn't look at her. He was kneeling in the frozen dirt beside her, every inch of him alert, and she was probably the least of his concerns.
"You want to kiss the man who tried to kill you? You are a very foolish young
woman," the Shirosama said. "Go ahead."
Taka turned to her, his eyes dark and unreadable, waiting. She reached up, put her mouth against his and whispered, "I have a knife that's fallen down the front of my shirt, you son of a bitch. See if you can get it." The feel of his lips against hers was agony. The sickness deep inside her was that she wanted to kiss him anyway, no matter what he'd done. — Anne Stuart

Eight comes out of freaking nowhere with me suddenly wanting to just kiss his face. A lot. Like, I actually want to make-out with the arrogant son of a bitch. — Jenn Cooksey

Well, sir, embrace me once, as you would embrace your daughter, and I swear to you that that kiss, the only chaste kiss I have ever had, will make me strong against my love, and that within a week your son will be once more at your side, perhaps unhappy for a time, but cured forever. — Alexandre Dumas-fils

Ask of me, and I shall give thee the heathen for thine inheritance, and for thy possession, the ends of the earth. Thou shalt break them with a rod of iron. Thou shalt dash them in pieces, like a potters vessel. Be wise now therefore, ye kings. Be admonished, ye judges of the earth. Serve the Lord with fear, and rejoice with trembling. Kiss the son lest he be angry, and ye perish in the way, though his wrath be kindled but a little. — Alexander Anderson

She shouldn't encourage him, shouldn't be allowing him to kiss her, to touch her. He was a dragon, the son of Ares, and dangerous. Yet, she wanted more of him. No, she craved more. It was crazy. They just met. — Lia Davis

Long ago, returning from some turbulent sequence of misdeeds, the younger, beloved son of the house of Culter would rap at the door of his mother's chamber, and be admitted, and closing the door, would bend upon her the grave, sweet gaze, made of mischief and love, that melted the bones in her body. Then, sinking to one knee, he would kiss her hand, in obedience and humility.

Now he rapped, and she heard his voice speak her name and, rising, she faced him as the door opened and shut and he stood, his bearing and looks unlike anything she had ever seen in him before, in any extremity. He said, 'I have to find Philippa.' And then, walking into the room, he dropped on one knee and said, 'I will promise anything you wish, to the end of my life, if you will tell me the name of the house that you know of. — Dorothy Dunnett

Who we loved wasn't always a choice. Sometimes it was an irresistible pull, a gravitational force, something we couldn't see or control that drew us toward another. Sure, we could try to fight it. But in the end, love always won because it didn't fight fair. It had a secret weapon, a tool of sheer force to use against us - our heart. And once that son of a bitch got involved, you could kiss away all options you thought might exist. — J. Sterling

You and I hear of sudden deaths and yet we imagine we shall not die suddenly. We cannot think God's wrath will be kindled in a little time and that He will take us away with a stroke. We get the idea that we shall die in our nests, with a slow and gradual death and have abundance of time for preparation. Oh, I beseech you, let no such delusion destroy your soul! "Kiss the Son now, lest He be angry in a little while and you perish from the way." Now bow before Him and receive His grace. — Charles Haddon Spurgeon

You get this drama, babe, you got until the end of Tack's meeting to burn it out, but mark this, Lanie. After that meeting, I don't give a fuck if you're strapped into a rocket to go to the goddamned moon, I'm findin' you, we're sortin' this shit out and we're movin' on," he warned. "I just made a mental note to find a plastic surgeon who does emergency face alterations so you won't know who to look for," I shot back. "Jesus, I'm pissed as all fuck and still she's cute," he groused like he wasn't talking to me but actually complaining to the Son of God. "Jesus works on Sunday, Hop. You want a direct line, time to haul your biker ass to church," I shared. "You want me to let you go so you can burn this out, you better stop bein' cute, lady. You keep bein' cute, I'll kiss you in the goddamn forecourt and I won't give a fuck who sees." I snapped my mouth shut. "That's what I thought," he — Kristen Ashley

His mother, a dried-up old lady with black eyes and ringlets, screwed up her eyes, scanning her son, and smiled slightly with her thin lips. Getting up from the seat and handing her maid a bag, she gave her little wrinkled hand to her son to kiss, and lifting his head from her hand, kissed him on the cheek. — Leo Tolstoy

Kiss the Son, lest He be angry and you perish from the way, when His wrath is kindled but a little. How terrible is the doom of the wicked! The little kindling of God's wrath kills them. What shall the eternal burnings be? Who among us shall dwell with the devouring fire? Who among us shall abide with everlasting burnings? There is a land of thick darkness and despair where dwells the undying worm, which in its ceaseless folds does crush the spirits of the damned. There is a fire quickly burning, that dries up the very marrow of body and soul and yet destroys them not. There also is the pit that knows no bottom, the hopeless falling without a thought of ever coming to an end. There is a land where souls linger in eternal death and yet they never die - crushed, but not annihilated - broken, but not destroyed. Forever, forever, forever, is the ceaseless wave which rolls its fresh tide of fire upon a shore of agony, whose years are as countless as the sands of the sea. — Charles Haddon Spurgeon

No woman's ever that angry with me unless she knows she wants to fuck me and she's mad at herself for it," I tell her. "So no. I'm not shocked." "Hmm. Well aren't you an arrogant son of a bitch." I shrug. "I'm betting that's why you want my dick inside you." She laughs - the sound is like silver and moonlight, cold water running down my back. "Kiss me, Tommy Kendrick. And make it a good one. I want to know what I'm signing myself up for here before I let you do your worst." She — Callie Hart

What are you doing?" I whisper, not at all surprised when he doesn't answer my question. He keeps up drawing patterns for a few minutes, nearly lulling me to sleep, before leaning over and pressing a soft kiss between my shoulder blades. He wraps his arms around me, pulling me onto my side toward him, my back flat against his warm chest."I was connecting the dots," he says quietly. "Your freckles are like stars. They tell a story, depending on how you connect them."I smile to myself as he takes my hand, linking our fingers together. "What did they tell you?""They told me you're beautiful," he says. "And I'm a lucky son of a bitch to have you all to myself. — J.M. Darhower

Someday, Jessica, he says quietly, you will stand before me in this very room, as we prepare for some function which
we both dread, for we have been to so many in our years together, and you will smile and reach up to adjust my crooked tie, as you always do. And one of our children - perhaps our first son - will tug at your dress, demanding our attention. Then I will kiss you, and reach down to lift our child, thinking, How did I come to be so happy? — Beth Fantaskey

Alexander laughs. They kiss exuberantly. "Now - much more seriously," she says, "what would you like to play, Captain? Marco Polo?" "How about Little Red Riding Tania?" he says, all teeth. "Okey-dokey." Making her voice high high high, she says gamely, batting her eyes, "Oh, Captain, what big arms you have ... " "All the better to hold you with, my dear." He squeezes her wet body to him. "Oh, Captain, what big hands you have ... " "All the better to grab you with, my dear." He grabs her behind and presses into her. "Oh, my, Captain! What a - " Anthony takes a running jump, right into the pool, right into his mother and father. Alexander pushes his son underwater and when he releases him, Tatiana pushes her son underwater, and when she releases him they both embrace him and kiss his face. "Ant, want to play Marco Polo?" "Yes, Dad," says Anthony. "You're it. And no chasing only Mommy this time. — Paullina Simons

It's me, not you." She turned to him, urging him with her eyes to go along with her. "Everybody else thinks you're fabulous, so it has to be me, right? Nobody else seems to find you just a little bit . . . creepy."

He cocked an eyebrow.

Francesca swelled up in her chair. "Did you just call my son 'creepy'?"

Ted spooned up another bite of chocolate, interested in what else she'd come up with. He wasn't going to help at all. She wanted to kiss him, yell at him. Instead, she returned her attention to the women.

"Be honest." Her voice gained strength with the rightness of what she was doing. "You all know what I mean. The way the birds start to sing when he walks outside. That's creepy, right? And those halos that keep popping up around his head? — Susan Elizabeth Phillips

From behind her back, Sarah brought out a set of Matchbox cars, which she handed to Jonah.
"What's this for?" He asked.
"I just wanted you to have something to play with while you're here," she said. "Do you like them?"
He stared at the box. "This is great! Dad ... look." He held the box in the air.
"I see that. Did you say thanks?"
"Thank you, Miss Andrews."
"You're welcome."
As soon as Miles approached, Sarah stood again and greeted him with a kiss. "I was just kidding, you know. You look nice, too. I'm not used to seeing you wearing a jacket and tie in the middle of the afternoon." She fingered his lapel slightly. "I could get used to this."
"Thank you, Miss Andrews," he said, mimicking his son. — Nicholas Sparks

When I do leap into the pit, I go headlong with my heels up, and am pleased to be falling in that degrading attitude, and pride myself upon it. And in the very depths of that degradation I begin a hymn of praise. Let me be accursed. Let me be vile and base, only let me kiss the hem of the veil in which my God is shrouded. Though I may be following the devil, I am Thy son, O Lord, and I love Thee, and I feel the joy without which the world cannot stand. — Fyodor Dostoyevsky

Mrs. Lindbergh declined all pleas to kiss or embrace her son, explaining that they came from "an undemonstrative Nordic race," which in her case was wholly untrue. — Bill Bryson

Shane never knew how to address her friends' parents. She wanted to call her Mrs. Eliot's Mom, but knew that the cutesiness would not be appreciated. "Mrs. Kaspar" sounded too like a phone solicitor, which would not do after having kissed the circumference of her son's neck. — Thomm Quackenbush

No one is going to mess with my son or daughter."
She laughed. "You can't assassinate bullies or boys who kiss your daughter."
"Pity. — Maria V. Snyder

Let me be cursed, let me be base and vile, but let me also kiss the hem of that garment in which my God is clothed; let me be following the devil at the same time, but still I am also your son, Lord, and I love you, and I feel a joy without which the world cannot stand and be. — Fyodor Dostoyevsky

Tatiana sat on the bench by the bay, by the morning water, and watched her son push himself on a tire swing. Her arms were twisted around her stomach. She was trying not to rock like Alexander rocked at three o'clock in the morning. Has he left me? Did he kiss my hand and go? No. It wasn't possible. Something's happened. He can't cope, can't make it, can't find a way out, a way in. I know it. I feel it. We thought the hard part was over - but we were wrong. Living is the hardest part. Figuring out how to live your life when you're all busted up inside and out - there is nothing harder. Oh dear God. Where is Alexander? — Paullina Simons

Not just one day, you will live many days," the doctor would answer, "you will live months and years, too." "But what are years, what are months!" he would exclaim. "Why count the days, when even one day is enough for a man to know all happiness. My dears, why do we quarrel, boast before each other, remember each other's offenses? Let us go to the garden, let us walk and play and love and praise and kiss each other, and bless our life." "He's not long for this world, your son," the doctor said to mother as she saw him to the porch, "from sickness he is falling into madness." The — Fyodor Dostoyevsky

In the name of him who delighted to say "My Father is greater than I," I will say that his miracles in bread and in wine were far less grand and less beautiful than the works of the Father they represented, in making the corn to grow in the valleys, and the grapes to drink the sunlight on the hill-sides of the world, with all their infinitudes of tender gradation and delicate mystery of birth. But the Son of the Father be praised, who, as it were, condensed these mysteries before us, and let us see the precious gifts coming at once from gracious hands
hands that love could kiss and nails could wound. — George MacDonald

If I say you're a goatherd's son, you say, 'Yes, Lord Ralon.'"
Alanna gasped with fury. "I'd as soon kiss a pig! Is that what you've been doing-kissing pigs? Or being kissed? — Tamora Pierce

Yes, he fights well," said Bulba, pausing; "well, by heavens!" he continued, rather as if excusing himself, "although he has never tried his hand at it before, he will make a good Cossack! Now, welcome, son! embrace me," and father and son began to kiss each other. "Good lad! see that you hit every one as you pommelled me; don't let any one escape. Nevertheless your clothes are ridiculous all the same. What rope is this hanging there?
And you, you lout, why are you standing there with your hands hanging beside you?" he added, turning to the youngest. "Why don't you fight me? you son of a dog! — Nikolai Gogol

Catelyn wanted to run to him, to kiss his sweet brow, to wrap him in her arms so tightly that he would never come to harm ... — George R R Martin

His singing made me want to fall to the ground and kiss it, as a son to a mother, grateful that someone could love it so keenly. For the first time in my life something new awoke within me, something irresistible: I still cannot explain it. It was a need to express myself, yes, to express myself, not only to see and sense the world, but to bring to others my vision, my thoughts and sensations, to describe the beauty of the earth as inspiringly as Daniyar could sing. I caught my breath for fear and joy of the unknown. At that time, however, I had not yet realized the need to take up brush and paints. — Chingiz Aitmatov

A kiss from my mother made me a painter. — Benjamin West

A couple of years before he died, I kissed my father goodbye. He said, 'Son, you haven't kissed me since you were a little boy.' It went straight to my heart, and I kissed him whenever I saw him after that, and my sons and I always kiss whenever we meet. — Terry Wogan

I'm Ric Flair! The Stylin', profilin', limousine riding, jet flying, kiss-stealing, wheelin' n' dealin' son of a gun! — Ric Flair

You son of a bitch!'
'What? he said, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand. 'You were mad.'
'I wasn't talking about the kiss.'
He grinned. 'Does that mean I can do it again? — Larissa Ione

It made me smile, the way they got along, the easy and affectionate way they talked to each other as if love between a father and a son was simple and uncomplicated. My mom and I, sometimes what we had was easy and uncomplicated. Sometimes. But me and my dad, we didn't have that. I wondered what that would be like, to walk into a room and kiss my father. — Benjamin Alire Saenz

This is for you, all the women of the world
Those who lived, all who ever will
this is for your love, mine is yours
Love is fate, I am here
Because you know the meaning of life
That begins and ends with a kiss
We are knights in shining ardor, who toil for you
And our children, it's a circle
So they will know this truth
Love is the sacred gospel, all we need to know
As your son and lover, my spirit lives imbued
With, from and by your wisdom and beauty
I am here to pay honor and homage to your soul
This is and will always be my devotion
This I dedicate, because through you I become whole — Trevor McShane

Pulling my hand away, he rose, slanting his head to kiss me deeply as he pushed me onto my back, with his weight draped over me. "I've never had anything that was my own," he said against my mouth. "Nothing that was ever for just me and no one else. I've never been anyone's first." He kissed me and then lifted his head. I stared into his eyes. "I've never been anyone's only."
That made my heart ache for him as I raised my hand, pressing my palm against his cheek. "You're my first," I whispered. "You're ... you're my only."
His lips parted. "You can't say that and not mean it."
I held his gaze as my chest swelled. "I mean it."
He smoothed his thumb over my lip. "I really am a lucky son of a bitch. — Jennifer L. Armentrout

When you meet a man in the doorway of a Mexican restaurant who later kisses you while explaining that this kiss doesn't "mean anything" because, much as he likes you, he is not interested in having a relationship with you or anyone right now, just laugh and kiss him back. Your daughter will have his sense of humor. Your son will have his eyes. — Cheryl Strayed

Moomah," Travis mumbled and Joker looked to the kid to see his eyes on the magazine, his fingers twiddling his lip.
"Yeah, son, that's your momma."
Travis looked to him. "Moomah."
"Yeah, boy."
Travis took his fingers from his lip and curled them around Joker's. "Joejoekah."
"Yeah," Joker whispered. "I'm your Joker."
The boy wobbled a second then dropped forward and landed a sloppy, open-mouthed kiss on his hand and Joker's mouth.
He wobbled back.
"Love you too, kid," Joker whispered.
Travis giggled. — Kristen Ashley

There are times in people's lives when a significant event occurs and they're not aware of it - the last time you pick up a son before he's too heavy, the final kiss of a marriage gone bad, the view of a beloved landscape you'll never see again. Weeks later, I realized those were Dad's last words to me. — Chris Offutt