Letting Her Down Quotes & Sayings

Sophia sat in meditation on the riverbank when a student bent down to place two enormous pearls at her feet as a gift.
She opened her eyes to see the pearls. She picked one up, but dropped it. It rolled down the hill upon which she was sitting and into the river. The student chased after it and looked all afternoon, diving, coming up for air, diving back down.
"Sophia," he asked. "Could you show me where it went in? I can't find it."
"Right there," she said throwing the other pearl in the river. — David W. Jones

She had said she didn't feel fear, but it was a lie; this was her fear: being left alone. Because of one thing she was certain, and it was that she could never love, not like that. Trust a stranger with her flesh? The closeness, the quiet. She couldn't imagine it. Breathing someone else's breath as they breathed yours, touching someone, opening for them? The vulnerability of it made her flush. It would mean submission, letting down her guard, and she wouldn't. Ever. Just the thought made her feel small and weak as a child ... — Laini Taylor

Near my feet is a glowing archway. The light is white and shimmery, like iridescent glitter, and it's so tall the top nearly brushes the ceiling. Inside, instead of seeing the cement wall of the basement, I'm looking at evenly spaced wooden pillars and a reed-mat floor. Standing on that mat is a woman with curves that would make a Playboy model jealous. She's wearing a long, butter yellow dress, and her white hair hangs down to her waist. She looks like an angel when she smiles at me, holding out her hands.
"Hudson, come with me." Her voice reminds me of the breeze rustling through the trees near the lake. Soft and subtle and calming. "Let me help you."
Did I die? Maybe the scratch on my side got infected. Maybe I've been slowly bleeding to death from internal injuries for the past week. Who knows? If this is death, if she's what's waiting for me on the other side, then fuck it. I'm letting go. — Erica Cameron

I wasn't sure what I expected her to do or say to this. It was all new to me from that second on. But clearly, she'd been there before. It was obvious in the easy way she shrugged off her bag, letting it fall with a thump onto the sand, before sitting down beside me. She didn't pull me close for a big bonding hug or offer up some saccharine words of comfort, both of which would have sent me running for sure. Instead she gave me nothing but her company, realizing even before I did this that this, in fact, was just what I needed. — Sarah Dessen

Hastings sat down and braced his arm along the back of the chaise, quite effectively letting it be known he did not want anyone else to join them.
"You look frustrated, Miss Fitzhugh." He lowered his voice. "Has your bed been empty of late?"
He knew very well she'd been watched more closely than prices on the stock exchange. She couldn't smuggle a hamster into her bed, let alone a man.
"You look anemic, Hastings," she said. "Have you been leaving the belles of England breathlessly unsatisfied again?"
He grinned. "Ah, so you know what it is like to be breathlessly unsatisfied. I expected as little from Andrew Martin."
Her tone was pointed. "As little as you expect from yourself, no doubt."
He sighed exaggeratedly. "Miss Fitzhugh, you disparage me so, when I've only ever sung your praises."
"Well, we all do what we must," she said with sweet venom.
He didn't reply - not in words, at least. — Sherry Thomas

The autumn leaves blew over the moonlit pavement in such a way as to make the girl who was moving there seem fixed to a sliding walk, letting the motion of the wind and the leaves carry her forward. [ ... ] The trees overhead made a great sound of letting down their dry rain. — Ray Bradbury

Watching movies (Titanic, Flirting with Disaster, Mannequin, Thelma and Louise, Rushmore, The Goonies, She's Having a Baby, it mattered very little) was a kind of prayer: She knew the characters as well as she knew herself, as well as she knew anything there was to know, and she could chart and rechart their movements and secrets and misunderstandings endlessly, reflecting in any number of new permutations on all of it, each time. Again and again. They were acquaintances - people she'd known her whole life and understood well, people incapable of letting her down by changing or disappearing or offering up the unexpected. The League of Their Own tears were purely for catharsis. When she was done she would reemerge, reborn. She would make new mistakes. Or maybe none at all. Okay, — Elisa Albert

Miss Annie, is it wrong for me to believe it was Jesus who asked my forgiveness?" I asked her.
She frowned and shook her head, "Lord, what do they teach you at that school?" she said. Then she faced me head-on. "Did God humble himself by becoming a man?" she asked, every word spoken more loudly than the one before.
"Yes, ma'am," I said. I'd never used the word ma'am before, but it seemed an excellent time to start.
"Did he humble himself by dying on the cross to show us how much he loved us? she asked, waving her spatula at me.
My eyes widened and I nodded, yes.
Miss Annie's body relaxed, and she put her hand on her hip. "So why wouldn't Jesus humble himself and tell a boy he was sorry for letting him down if he knew it would heal his heart?" she asked.
"But if Jesus is perfect
"
Miss Annie ambled the five or six feet that separated us and took my hand. "Son," she said, rubbing my knuckles with her thumb, "love always stoops. — Ian Morgan Cron

He had no choice in the matter, if he left her hanging by the straps she'd end up being banged against the side of the aircraft. Not good for her, not good for the plane's stability. You always fastened down a cargo, you didn't leave it loose in the back of a plane.
That was all he was doing, he told himself putting his arms around her to hold her limp body still, letting her head loll back against his shoulder. Keeping the cargo secure.
It was his own damn fault he was getting hard again. — Anne Stuart

She even tried the one which every romantic nerve in her body insisted should work, which consisted of theatrically giving up, sitting down, and letting her glance fall naturally on a patch of earth which, if she had been in any decent narrative, should have contained the book.
It didn't. — Terry Pratchett

She sat there reading; cool, calm and collected. "You could ruin his life with that information," her friend reported triumphantly. The woman sighed, clearly annoyed at being interrupted. "If I did he would never forget me," she replied. "Besides ... I don't care enough about his life to concern myself with what he does with it as long as he doesn't concern himself with thoughts of me." Her friend furrowed her brows. "Why?" she asked. The woman set her book down, leaned forward provocatively and said, "Because then I'd have to think of him too. — Donna Lynn Hope

You needn't be thinking," he said to the goldfinch, "that because I'm coming down this line alone day after day, it's always to be so. Some of these times you'll be swinging on this wire, and you'll see me coming, and you'll swing, skip, and flirt yourself around, and chip up right spunky: 'SEE ME?' I'll be saying 'See you? Oh, Lord! See her!' You'll look, and there she'll stand. The sunshine won't look gold any more, or the roses pink, or the sky blue, because she'll be the pinkest, bluest, goldest thing of all. You'll be yelling yourself hoarse with the jealousy of her. The sawbird will stretch his neck out of joint, and she'll turn the heads of all the flowers. Wherever she goes, I can go back afterward and see the things she's seen, walk the path she's walked, hear the grasses whispering over all she's said; and if there's a place too swampy for her bits of feet; Holy Mother! Maybe--maybe she'd be putting the beautiful arms of her around me neck and letting me carry her over! — Gene Stratton-Porter

As Leo leaned down to deposit her on the bed, she tightened her grip on him, not letting him pull away. "Kiss me," she demanded.
"I shouldn't."
"Shouldn't didn't stop you earlier this evening."
"Earlier this evening you weren't incapacitated."
"We can work it off. If we take it slow, I'll be fine. Just don't expect me to swing from a chandelier. The last time I did that, the whole ceiling came down," she confided.
"I'd really rather not hear about your sexual exploits," he growled.
A jealous Leo was adorable.
"Oh, I didn't do it for sex. We were playing Tomb Raider. And I would have gotten away with the treasure, too, if the bolts would have held."
"You are something else," he muttered, brushing the hair from her face, his strokes so gentle.
"I'm yours," she muttered as her lashes fluttered shut, her battle with them lost. — Eve Langlais

I suddenly knew it wasn't only the wonderful luxury of being in love that had been buoying me up: deep down, in some vague, mixed up way I had been letting myself hope he didn't really care for her, that it was me he loved and that kissing me would have made him realise it. 'You're a fool and worse -' I told myself. 'You're a would-be thief. — Dodie Smith

Don't you think we're going to go to hell for this?" asked Lissa.
He reached out and touched her face, trailing his fingers along her cheek and neck and down to the top of her silky shirt. She breathed heavily at that touch, at the way it could be so gentle and small, yet evoke such a strong passion within her.
"For this?" He played with the shirt's edge, letting his finger just barely brush inside of it.
"No," she laughed. "For this." She gestured around the attic. "This is a church. We shouldn't be doing this kind of, um, thing up here."
"Not true," he argued. Gently, he pushed her onto her back and leaned over her. "The church is downstairs. This is just storage. God won't mind. — Richelle Mead

An overwhelming curiosity makes me ask myself what their lives might be like. I want to know what they do, where they're from, their names, what they're thinking about at that moment, what they regret, what they hope for, their past loves, their current dreams ... and if they happen to be women (especially the young ones) then the urge becomes intense.
How quickly would you want to see her naked, admit it, and naked through to her heart. How you try to learn where she comes from, where she's going, why she's here and not elsewhere!
While letting your eyes wander all over her, you imagine love affairs for her, you ascribe her deep feelings. You think of the bedroom she must have, and a thousand things besides ... right down to the battered slippers into which she must slip her feet when she gets out of bed. — Gustave Flaubert

She had been so wicked that in all her life she had done only one good deed-given an onion to a beggar. So she went to hell. As she lay in torment she saw the onion, lowered down from heaven by an angel. She caught hold of it. He began to pull her up. The other damned saw what was happening and caught hold of it too. She was indignant and cried, "Let go-it's my onion," and as soon as she said, "my onion," the stalk broke and she fell back into the flames. — E. M. Forster

Well, looks like you got your wish, Firebrand," I whispered, feeling the heat in my veins rise up, growing hotter by the second. "Screw this waiting around. If we survive this, I swear you will have my full attention from now on."
Her eyes flashed, and I released the hold on my true self, letting Cobalt surge to the surface. My wings unfurled, brushing the countertop, and my talons clicked on the tile floor as I sank down and made myself small, folding my wings tight to my body — Julie Kagawa

Tessa was only half way down the corridor when they caught up to her -Will and Jem, walking on either side of her. "you didn't really think we weren't going to come along, did you?" Will asked, raising his hand and letting his witchlight fare up between his fingers, lighting the corridor to daylight brightness. Charlotte, hurrying along ahead of them, turned and frowned, but said nothing.
"I know you can't leave anything well alone," Tessa replied, looking straight ahead. "But I though better of Jem."
"Where Will goes, I go," Jem said good-naturedly. "And besides, I'm as curious as he is. — Cassandra Clare

My parents have always worried that I'd take Amy too personally - they always tell not to read too much into her, And yet I can't fail to notice that whenever I screw something up, Amy does it right: When I finally quit violin at age twelve, Amy was revealed as a prodigy in the next book. ("Sheesh, violin can be hard work, but handwork is the only way to get better!") When I blew off the junior championship at age sixteen to do a beach weekend with friends, Amy recommitted to the game. ("Sheesh, I know it's fun to spend time with friends, but I'd be letting myself and everyone else down if I didn't show up for the tournament.") This used to drive me mad, but after I wend off to Harvard (and Amy correct those my parents' alma mater), I decided it was all too ridiculous to think about. That my parents, two child psychologists, chose this particular public form of passive-aggressiveness toward their child was not just fucked up but also stupid and weird and kind of hilarious. — Gillian Flynn

I shall write Lady Rose a letter, listing your virtues and skills." He reached down and drew up a piece of real paper - much crisper than parchment - and found a reed pen. "Let's see, what shall I say? You are hardheaded ... " "Don't you dare." But this brought a smile to her face that she was obviously trying to suppress. "And terrified of letting anyone see your hair ... " He found his ink and writing board. "You wouldn't say that!" She self-consciously twisted her long hair and then flung it over her shoulder. — Melanie Dickerson

Francie said nothing more. Katie knew that she was letting them down. But she couldn't help it, she just couldn't help it. Yes, she should go with them to lend the comfort and authority of her presence but she knew she couldn't stand the ordeal. Yet, they had to be vaccinated. Her being with them or somewhere else couldn't take that fact away. So why shouldn't one of the three be spared? Besides, she said to her conscience, it's a hard and bitter world. They've got to live in it. Let them get hardened young to take care of themselves. — Betty Smith

Practically all girls are capable of pulling off the
Lady Love stunt before marriage but alas, only too
many of them think a wedding ring gives them the
right to flop down on the do-nothing stool, get fat
and eat onions... When a man see his beauteous
pride slouching around the house in a soiled house-
coat with cold cream on her face, he feels he got
cheated at the altar.
Too often after the first baby, [women] cease
being wives and are only mothers... giving all their
tenderness to Junior and letting poor husband go
heart-hungry. — Carol Shields

He pulled the knitting away from her, throwing it in the grass, then sank down on his knees in front of her, wrapping his arms around her waist and burying his head in her lap. He was shaking, she realized, and the tears were pouring down her face, onto him, as she stroked his long, silken hair and cried.
She didn't care what it sounded like - the hiccupping noises, the choking sobs.
Her own body was shaking, racked by the final release, and he sat back on his heels and pulled her out of the chair, into his arms, holding her so tightly that a weaker woman might break, whispering to her in Japanese, sweet, loving words, letting her cry.
She was a strong woman, and her tears, so long denied, only made her stronger.
His heart was pounding against hers, his hands firm and tender, pushing the hair away from her tear-drenched face. When he kissed her she couldn't breathe, and she didn't care. — Anne Stuart

Thank you again," Wax said to her. "I still can't believe you snuck a gun into the party."
"It's only appropriate," Steris said, "that you would make a smuggler out of me."
"Just as you try to make a gentleman out of me."
"You're already a gentleman," Steris said.
Wax looked down at her as she held to him while trying to stare in every direction at once. He suddenly found something burning in him, like a metal. A protectiveness for this woman in his arms, so full of logic and yet so full of wonder at the same time. And a powerful affection.
So he let himself kiss her. She was surprised by it, but melted into the embrace. They started to drift sideways and arc downward as he lost his balance on his anchors, but he held on to the kiss, letting them slip back down into the churning mists. — Brandon Sanderson

Put it down," Ceony said. Clearing her throat, she repeated, "Put it down or I'll shoot you, I swear I will. I'm taking this heart back with me."
Lira's face turned to a scowl so gradually Ceony hardly saw it change. "I'm not letting some ginger tart take what's rightfully mine. — Charlie N. Holmberg

Where are you going?" he asked as she clomped down the bleachers in her heavy black boots. "I don't know." "I'll walk you," he said as he stood and followed her. "No." "I'm not going to let you walk alone at this time at night." She stepped off the last bleacher and walked across the track to the football field. She looked over her shoulder. "Stop following me." Once she reached the middle of the field, she looked back again. "I said, stop following me." "I'm' not letting you walk alone." That made her stop and turn to him. "What is the matter with you? Stop being so ... so ... " "What?" "Nice to me." She lowered herself to the ground and sat cross-legged. " I'm sitting here until you go away." This didn't exactly have the effect she wanted. "Don't sit beside me. Don't ... " She sighed when Sawyer sat beside her, right there on the fifty yard line. — Sarah Addison Allen

Sophie picked her way through the forest, stepping over tree roots, and pushing aside low-lying branches, letting them snap back behind her with reckless abandon. The sun barely squeaked through the canopy of leaves above her, and down at ground level, it felt more like dusk than midday. — Julia Quinn

Dammit, I couldn't stop her from following me into danger, but I sure as hell was going to protect her while she was here. I would throw myself in front of the dragon if it came down to that. My heart pounded, and I kissed her deeper, my stomach twisting as she parted her lips, letting me in. Her tongue teased mine, and everything that had brought us here - Keirran, Annwyl, the Fade - rushed out of my head. I'd never felt anything like this before: these crazy, swirling emotions, all centered around the girl in my arms. Kenzie scared me, infuriated me, challenged me, and faeries or no, I couldn't imagine a world without this girl. I loved her more than anything else in my life. My heart turned over, and the air caught in my throat. I pulled back, breathless with the realization. I ... was in love. — Julie Kagawa

I don't think many people were, but I love the black, the tassels and the leather, obviously. I'm still wearing that. I haven't let go of that. I love all things leather, and so I love that from her outfits as well. But I don't know if I would necessarily do the Mozart top, the button down, the 'Hot For Teacher' kind of look. That's not really my thing. I would let that one go. — Malin Akerman

Pink shirt.
Don't think about her.
Long Sleeves.
Don't think about how you would do anything to go back to Saturday night.
Pleated black pants.
Don't think about how much you fucking hate yourself right now for letting her down.
But I do. I think about it and I become hurt and angry all over again. — Colleen Hoover

Folks write down the name of someone who fills them with frustration, disappointment, and/or resentment, and then I propose that their person is doing the best he or she can. The responses have been wide-ranging...One woman said, "If this was true and my mother was doing the best she can, I would be grief-stricken. I'd rather be angry than sad, so it's easier to believe she's letting me down on purpose than grieve the fact that my mother is never going to be who I need her to be. — Brene Brown

Your hunger is returning."
Like she didn't know that. "That's why I came back down here, to let you know."
"And instead you ended up hearing what you shouldn't have."
"I'd say I came back just in time to hear what I needed to." She pinched his arm, letting him know with her eyes that she would pinch harder if he didn't see reason. "Let me go."
"I'm feeling a bit protective right now, so you probably want to be humoring me."
"This millennium protective, or eighteen sixties protective?"
"Definitely eighteen sixties. — Sarah McCarty

She drifted down into the water, letting it engulf her body until even her face was underwater. The silence was delicious, just the sound of her own heartbeat in her ears. — Crissi Langwell

because lying down and letting life walk over you was harder in the end. Getting through a bad day took less out of her than ignoring it until it built up into a crisis. — V.C. Lancaster

Deep down, in some vague, mixed way I had been letting myself hope that he didn't really care for her, that it was me he loved and that kissing me would have made him realise it ... — Dodie Smith

You know,' she begins, 'you fellas ought to be looking after each other.' Her comment makes me realise that through the lies, the greatest irony is that we are looking out for each other. It's just that in the end, we're letting her down. That's what injures us. — Markus Zusak

It was so lovely, Heidi stood with tears pouring down her cheeks, and thanked God for letting her come home to it again. She could find no words to express her feelings, but lingered until the light began to fade and then ran on. — Johanna Spyri

As Tom walked away, every step more awful, Lucy pursued him, arms still outstretched. 'Dadda, wait for Lulu,' she begged, wounded and confused. When she tripped and fell face down on the gravel, letting out a scream, Tom could not go on, and spun around, breaking free of the policeman's grip.
'Lulu!'
He scooped her up and kissed her scratched chin.
'Lucy, Lucy, Lucy, Lucy,' he murmured, his lips brushing her cheek.
'You're all right, little one. You'll be all right.'
Vernon Knuckey looked at the ground and cleared his throat.
Tom said, 'Sweetheart, I have to go away now. I hope - ' He stopped. He looked into her eyes and he stroked her hair, finally kissing her.
'Goodbye, littlie. — M.L. Stedman

Since the day she died, I've felt that Lucy was only mine to memorialize and that if I faltered, I'd be letting her down in the worst kind of way. The realization that she wasn't just mine comes as a painful relief. — Julie Murphy

Bree arched, trying to stretch out her muscles and Alessandro gave her a dirty look as if she was displaying herself to him on purpose. Well, maybe she was a little. Even though he blocked her from the hotel attendant's gaze with his body in the doorway, Bree was sure to cover herself with the blanket. Alessandro turned around, pulling in the tray with him and his eyes flared hungrily as he looked down at her. "You look like a beautiful debauched angel," he said, his voice rough with desire. "And you're what, the demon that's corrupted me?" Bree asked raising an eyebrow and letting the blanket fall down to her waist, baring her to him. "It's my life's work, you know?" Alessandro grinned, going down on to his knees and leaning over her. Bree placed a hand on his chest, halting him. "Is that coffee, I smell?" she asked. "The debauched angel is kind of hungry." She bit her lip and smiled up at his frustrated face. — E. Jamie

Safe relationships are centered and grounded in forgiveness. When you have a friend with the ability to forgive you for hurting her or letting her down, something deeply spiritual occurs in the transaction between you two. You actually experience a glimpse of the deepest nature of God himself. People who forgive can - and should - also be people who confront. What is not confessed can't be forgiven. God himself confronts our sins and shows us how we wound him: "I have been hurt by their adulterous hearts which turned away from me, and by their eyes, which played the harlot after their idols" (Ezek. 6:9 NASB). When we are made aware of how we hurt a loved one, then we can be reconciled. Therefore, you shouldn't discount someone who "has something against you," labeling him as unsafe. He might actually be attempting to come closer in love, in the way that the Bible tells us we are to do. — Henry Cloud

I skated and rode bikes on ramps, and my mom was always super supportive. She was one of the only divorced moms in the neighborhood, so all the other parents looked down upon her for letting her kids do that kind of thing. — Spike Jonze

No! Please no," she feels the cool metal
of the handcuffs again. "Please, I'm
Madison, I'm Madison!"
Her arms lock into place above her head.
She jerks her body, pain snapping at her
muscles.
"You can stay like this for the day." He
rises from the bed, bends down, and
blows out the candles on her birthday
cake. "Night, night, Rosie."
"No!"
He opens the door, letting a stream of
sunlight into the room.
"Please don't leave me here, please!"
And then the door closes, and the
sunlight is gone. — Kay Botha

She looked down at the letter she had clutched in her hand. It could wait until tomorrow.
Silently she turned and went to get something soothing to drink. Or, at the very least, some hard ale. She needed something to help her sleep because the last image she'd witnessed before turning away from the chamber would have her awake and obsessing for hours. The image of Annwyl the Bloody, known terror of the Dark Plains, lovingly running her hand down Fearghus's snout ... and Fearghus the Destroyer letting her. — G.A. Aiken

There was the sun, letting down great glowing masses of heat; there was life, active and snarling, moving about them like a fly swarm - the dark pants of smoke from the engine, a crisp "all aboard!" and a bell ringing. Confusedly Maury saw eyes in the milk train staring curiously up at him, heard Gloria and Anthony in quick controversy as to whether he should go to the city with her, then another clamor and she was gone and the three men, pale as ghosts, were standing alone upon the platform while a grimy coal-heaver went down the road on top of a motor truck, carolling hoarsely at the summer morning. CHAPTER — F Scott Fitzgerald

You should go home and get some sleep," Harper said drowsily, letting the pain medication help take her under.
Trent stood up, lowered the head of the gurney, and lifted Harper's head to fluff the pillow before gently lowering her back down.
"I'll see you in the morning," Harper said, refusing to acknowledge the fear she suddenly felt at being left alone. The light went off in the room and Harper's heart started to race. She needed the light on.
The mattress sagged as Trent sat down on the side of the bed. She felt him lean forward and heard him kick off his shoes. He pulled his legs up onto the single gurney and lay down on his side, carefully putting his arm around her. The warmth of his breath behind her ear, the sweetness of his lips against her skin eased the pressure she'd felt building inside.
"Yeah, you will, darlin'. I'll be right here. — Scarlett Cole

None of them knowing that that was Rez hunched down in there, under a jacket, but maybe sensing it somehow. And something in Chia letting her know she'd never quite be like that again. Never as comfortably a face in that crowd. Because now she knew there were rooms they never saw, or even dreamed of, where crazy things, or even just boring things, happened, and that was where the stars came from. — William Gibson

I believe being a 'gentleman' goes well beyond holding the door for a girl and letting her go before you. It's about being vulnerable for her. I think that when it comes to the way we treat women, it's a good idea to look to the way Jesus treated women.

He laid His life down for His bride,

He sacrificed for her,

He lowered Himself for her,

He was vulnerable for her.

We must love women vulnerably in the same way that Jesus loved His bride vulnerably. Being a gentleman is far more than being caring and thoughtful, it's about possessing sacrificial and vulnerable Christ-like characteristics. I don't know if it's possible to be a gentleman without knowing and representing the character of Jesus. — Cole Ryan

Morning breath here. 'A dirty mouth you say,' clean it up with Orbit." Maya chuckled. "Unless you have gum, I'm not letting you near me." She reached for a pillow and plopped it over her face.
"Ha-ha! Good one. No gum on me, but I'll settle for kissing your belly." Alex whisked her pajama top up and knelt down to kiss the roundest part of her tummy. — Melisa M. Hamling

I pressed forward, pushing my body along hers, and wrapped my arms around her waist. Some of the intensity of my anger dissipated and drained away. After a very long, steamy kiss, I broke away, breathing hard.
Rimmel's head collapsed against the wall and she stared up at me with unfocused hazel eyes. The flecks of color in the center were green today. "Romeo," she gasped.
I pulled back enough so I could lift her arm and grasp her fingers. She made a sound of protest when I pushed back the material of the shirt once more and stared down at the dark blotches marring her skin.
"How were you going to explain this to me?" I rumbled.
"I wasn't going to lie, it that's what you're implying," she snapped.
"Ah, baby." I groaned and lifted her wrist to press my lips to the marks. "I'm being a jerk."
"You said it ... " She agreed, letting the rest of her sentence fall away.
I smiled against her skin and then kissed her inner wrist once more. — Cambria Hebert

No, he wasn't letting Dez MacDermot get away. He'd take her down like his ancestors took down full-grown zebra. — Shelly Laurenston

You inhaled to the rhythm of her thick sighs as she scrutinized her form in the full-length bedroom mirror, her newly sewn skirt showing, she said, too much hip, too much leg. She yanked it off, snipping open the seams, laying it out across the dining table like a freshly gutted fish, where it eventually disappeared from view beneath sheaths of brown paper patterns, paisley skirts whose hems needed letting out, floral dresses whose cleavages needed closing in, and an assortment of garments whose long and short zippers would go neither up nor down, jammed from the humidity and the salt of August days. — Martin Munro

A young woman across the dock pulled her winter coat tightly around herself and ducked her chin down as the crowd of sailors passed. Her shoulders might have shaken, just a little, but she kept to her path without letting the men's boisterous laughter keep her from her course. In her I saw myself, a fellow lost girl, headstrong and headed anywhere but home. — William Ritter

There are things I need to say first. Things you need to hear before we go any further."
She tensed. "Oh, God, are you married?"
He chuckled. "No, nothing like that."
"Good," she replied, letting out a relieved breath.
"I want you to know you've made this very difficult for me. I had a speech prepared. Then I see you like this." His finger continued to trail down her stomach, tracing the rim of her panties. "And I can't even remember my damn name. — Stacey O'Neale

My other big mistake was letting it slide when she promised me a cut of her earnings. Because it turns out not many people want to stroll through head-high piles of scrap metal and rusty baby buggies down a path lined with artificial yucca plants to have their fortune told by a chain-smoking butterball in a dirty pink sweat suit. If I had thought about it long and hard enough I could've predicted that myself. — Kerry-Lee Powell

I love her deeply and have done everything for her. I've no feeling of letting her down because I've put her foremost in everything. — John F. Kennedy

Sam groaned. A warmth on her face alerted her to the new morning. She opened one eye and peered at the fuzzy daylight streaming in through the window. Her head throbbed like a bitch. Her mouth felt like a carpet. She pushed herself off the couch and stood up shakily, kicking bottles as she stumbled to her small kitchen. Every movement was painful and slow. She was a sloth tight-roping through time. She held onto the basin for a moment to steady herself. She grabbed a plastic cup and opened the tap, letting it flow as she filled and refilled it, gulping down as much water as she could. She splashed her face, neck and chest with water, then refilled the cup and dumped the contents over her head. She stood there, unaware of the moments passing by, as the water dripped down her body. Willing herself to wake up and feel better. Willing the nausea into oblivion. — Adelheid Manefeldt

Orion smiled and leaned back against the wall, letting his gaze drift down in thought. Helen stared at him for a few moments, just enjoying his company and the fact that he was there with her. No. Better than that. He was there for her. — Josephine Angelini

He kept trying to come up with words to say, but his brain and mouth were having a disconnect. So he crashed his mouth down over hers. She made a little gasp noise, and he took advantage, deepening the kiss, taking her stolen breath in and letting himself get lost in the feel of her soft lips, the familiar taste of her tongue.
He was half tempted to take her right here in the back of the truck, despite all the people nearby
the horse trailer mostly hid them, after all.
There was a small whispering in the back of his mind that they were gonna make a mess of things, but with her draping her legs across his lap and her nails running over his back, he couldn't help thinking that
Well, actually it was more like he couldn't actually think at all. — Cindi Madsen

Oh, please stop," I said, moving to sit down beside her on the bed. "No. Nothing like that. It's ... it's letting someone that close to me. Physically and emotionally. Randy and I got close a few times, but ... I chickened out. I'm afraid of letting someone have that kind of power over me. Not being in control is what scares me. — Kody Keplinger

She delivered a vicious blow, penetrating his rib cage, and withdrew her hand - with the ninja's still-beating heart in it. As all but Lady Catherine turned away in disgust, Elizabeth took a bite, letting the blood run down her chin and onto her sparring gown. "Curious," said Elizabeth, still chewing. "I have tasted many a heart, but I dare say, I find the Japanese ones a bit tender."
Her ladyship left the dojo without giving compliment to Elizabeth's skills. — Seth Grahame-Smith

And now come with me, for I have kept you too long from your gondola: come with me, on an autumnal morning, to a low wharf or quay at the extremity of a canal, with long steps on each side down to the water, which latter we fancy for an instant has become black with stagnation; another glance undeceives us,
it is covered with the black boats of Venice. We enter one of them, rather to try if they be real boats or not, than with any definite purpose, and glide away; at first feeling as if the water were yielding continually beneath the boat and letting her sink into soft vacancy. — John Ruskin

I wish I was Rapunzel
Letting down her hair
But at the bottom of my tower
There's nobody stood there.
No prince to carry me off to the sunset ...
The reason why of course,
I don't look like his princess,
I look like his horse. — Rae Earl

Where are you? Have you arrived yet?" she asked eagerly.
"I have. I'm here and it's great. I love it."
"I knew you would!" cried Hannah. "So are you coming down? Help me pull a pint or two?"
"Yeah, sure. Give me half an hour or so, and I'll be there."
"Brilliant. See you soon."
"Bye," replied Layla, hanging up.
No time for eating then, she'd better unpack the car, sort out the bedraggled mess that she was, and get down to the pub. Start learning the ropes.
Hauling one of the bags upstairs, she went into her bedroom and plonked it on the bed. Before doing anything else, however, she couldn't resist peering out of the window again, having to imagine Gull Rock this time as the deepening night had hidden it completely. A year, she thought. That's all I've got, a year. Enough time to get over anyone, surely?
Taking in a deep breath then letting it slowly out, she bloody hoped so. — Shani Struthers

A warm burning sensation fl ashed in her breasts, and she pressed them with backs of her wrists to stop the milk before it fl owed.

"Ugh, I'm letting down. We'll have to make this fast so I can go pump in the bathroom. I'm used to nursing every couple of hours."

The horror in Felix's eyes was so intense it seemed painful. "Pretend you didn't just say that."

"Say what? I didn't say anything."

He shook his head in disgust. — Shannon Hale

Adrian," she interrupted. "Didn't you just say I'm brilliant and always know everything? Then trust me on this."
"Always," I said, letting her pull me back down to her. "Always. — Richelle Mead

Her attacker turned his head, angling for a better look down her dress. His grimy ear was just inches from her mouth. Within snapping distance. If she bit it hard enough, she might startle him into letting her go. She had all but made up her mind to do it, when she inhaled another mouthful of his rank sweat and paused. If her choices were putting her mouth on this repulsive beast or dying, she just might rather die. — Tessa Dare