Quotes & Sayings About Lifting Me Up

What's a buckle-bunny?"
She grinned. "It used to be a description of the girls who hung around rodeo cowboys looking to hook up. Now it means any Texas gold digger who's looking for a sugar daddy."
"I'm not a gold digger."
"No, you advise them in your column. You tell them to support themselves and get their priorities straight."
"Everyone should listen to me," I said, and Haven laughed, lifting her glass.
-Ella & Haven — Lisa Kleypas

Aw, you messed up your hair, Colton teased, lifting the crown with the tip of his finger and giving me a sexy wink. — Anonymous

He turns another page, and I read:
I'M NOT ETHAN ...
... AND I'M NOT GOING TO GIVE UP ...
... UNTIL I CAN PROVE TO YOU ...
... THAT YOU ARE THE ONLY THING THAT MATTERS.
He flips to the next page.
SO KEEP SENDING ME AWAY ...
... BUT I'LL JUST KEEP COMING BACK TO YOU.
AGAIN ...
He flips to the next page.
... AND AGAIN ...
And the next:
... AND AGAIN.
Goose bumps rise to the surface of my skin. I shiver, hugging myself tightly.
AND IF YOU CAN EVER FIND IT IN YOUR TO FORGIVE ME ...
... I WILL DO EVERYTHING IT TAKES TO MAKE IT UP TO YOU ...
He closes the notebook and tosses it beside him. It lands on the roof with a dull thwack. Then, lifting his index finger, he draws an X across his chest.
Cross my heart. — Katie Klein

I have always felt that ultimately along the way of life an individual must stand up and be counted and be willing to face the consequences whatever they are. And if he is filled with fear he cannot do it. My great prayer is always for God to save me from the paralysis of crippling fear, because I think when a person lives with the fears of the consequences for his personal life he can never do anything in terms of lifting the whole of humanity and solving many of the social problems which we confront in every age and every generation. In — Martin Luther King Jr.

It was clear that Chloe, even down to the last moment, was working something out. Her eyes were closed, her face arranged in a look of concentration as she sifted through her thoughts. Just as clear was the moment she figured it all out. Lifting her head, her eyes moved up the aisle to me, and it was as if time stopped and everything else fell away. I could feel myself smile, then see it reflected in the way her entire face seemed to light up, and I did the only thing I could think. I whispered the words, Come here. — Christina Lauren

The lure of the past came up to grab me. To see a dagger slowly appearing, with its gold glint, through the sand was romantic. The carefulness of lifting pots and objects from the soil filled me with a longing to be an archaeologist myself. — Agatha Christie

You think my first instinct is to protect you. Because you're small, or a girl, or a Stiff. But you're wrong."
He leans his face close to mine and wraps his fingers around my chin. His hand smells like metal. When was the last time he held a gun, or a knife? My skin tingles at the point of contact, like he's transmitting electricity through his skin.
"My first instinct is to push you until you break, just to see how hard I have to press." he says, his fingers squeezing at the word break. My body tenses at the edge in his voice, so I am coiled as tight as a spring, and I forget to breathe.
His dark eyes lifting to mine, he adds, "But I resist it."
"Why ... " I swallow hard. "Why is that your first instinct?"
"Fear doesn't shut you down; it wakes you up. I've seen it. It's fascinating." He releases me but doesn't pull away, his hand grazing my jaw, my neck. "Sometimes I just want to see it again. Want to see you awake. — Veronica Roth

What makes the perfect kiss? Closing your eyes when you kiss is important. Or lifting up the leg, but that's more of a girl thing, I'm manly. Passion is good! She brings out the best in me. (Selena) — Justin Bieber

I sniffed as a few tears escaped, lifting my hands to wipe them away. It was then that I caught the only clues I'd been given by whoever had left me here.
On one wrist someone had written You are Kahlen. The other said He is Akinli.
I flipped my hands over and searched up and down my arms, hoping there was more.
"Look," I begged, holding out my arms.
"Pretty handwriting," Ben commented.
Julie hit him, but in a way that seemed playful. "Seriously?"
"That's all you have?" Akinli asked.
"Apparently. So, all I know is who I am and who you are." I looked into his eyes, the glowing blue, and sensed that was all that mattered. — Kiera Cass

I'm sure it is," she replied. Her expression turned fierce, making her look far different from the scattered teacher I knew.
"But listen to me when I say this. You are exceptional, taleneted, and brilliant young woman. Do not ever let anyone make you feel like you're less. Do not ever let anyone make you feel invisible. Do not let anyone-not even a teacher who constantly sends you for coffee-push you around." She put her glasses back on and began randomly lifting up pieces of papers. At last, she found a pen and grinned triumphantly.
"Now, then. What is your brother's name? — Richelle Mead

Oloch who entered my soul early. Moloch in whom I am a consciousness without a body. Moloch who frightened me out of my natural ecstasy. Moloch whom I abandon. Wake up in Moloch.. Light streaming out of the sky.
Moloch! Moloch! Robot apartments! Invisible suburbs! Skeleton treasuries! Blind capitals! Demonic industries! Spectral nations! Invincible madhouses! Granite cocks! Monstrous bombs!
They broke their backs lifting Moloch to Heaven.. Pavements, trees, radios, tons. Lifting the city to Heaven which exists and is everywhere about us. — Allen Ginsberg

I guess what I'm saying is, let's keep lifting each other up. It's not lost on me that two of the biggest opportunities I've had to break into the next level were given to me by successful women in positions of power. If I'm ever in that position and you ask me, "Who?" I'll do my best to say, "You" too. But in order to get there, you may have to break down the walls of whatever it is that's holding you back first. Ignore the doubt - it's not your friend - and just keep going, keep going, keep going. — Lauren Graham

When I don't feel like working out, lifting weights or doing serious cardio, the best thing for me to do is just go on the treadmill and walk. I walk and listen to music and 10 minutes will go by, then 15, and then I'll speed up a bit. Once my blood really starts flowing, I'll get a second wind and then I want to work out. — Steve Howey

When I am brushing my teeth, I'm bending my leg behind me, or I'm lifting my leg up and holding it in that position so I'm squeezing my butt in. I can do that while I'm washing or slicing vegetables, too. Or I go up and down on my toes, working my calves a little bit. — Christie Brinkley

Why don't you come over here?" Cam said, and I turned to him, brows raised. "You look cold."
I shifted closer, but that apparently wasn't close enough. He tugged the blanket off me and then leaned back Lifting me up, he placed me between his widespred legs. — J. Lynn

How could she even wonder? "You know why I want you? I didn't know I was lost until you found me. I didn't know what alone was until the first night I spent without you in my bed. You're the one thing I've got right. You're what I've been waiting for, Pigeon."
Abby reached up to take my face between her hands, and I wrapped my arms around her, lifting her off the floor. Our lips pressed together gently, and as she worked her lips against mine, I made sure to silently communicate how much I loved her in that kiss, because I could never get it right with just words. — Jamie McGuire

I used to fight the pain, but recently this became clear to me: pain is not my enemy; it is my call to greatness. But when dealing with the Iron, one must be careful to interpret the pain correctly. Most injuries involving the Iron come from ego. I once spent a few weeks lifting weight that my body wasn't ready for and spent a few months not picking up anything heavier than a fork. Try to lift what you're not prepared to and the Iron will teach you a little lesson in restraint and self-control. — Henry Rollins

No fainting in the middle of the road," said a voice close to my ear as a heavy arm landed across my shoulders and gave me a squeeze. I looked up to see Mal's familiar face, a smile in his bright blue eyes as he fell into step beside me. "C'mon," he said. "One foot in front of the other. You know how it's done." "You're interfering with my plan." "Oh really?" "Yes. Faint, get trampled, grievous injuries all around." "That sounds like a brilliant plan." "Ah, but if I'm horribly maimed, I won't be able to cross the Fold." Mal nodded slowly. "I see. I can shove you under a cart if that would help." "I'll think about it," I grumbled, but I felt my mood lifting all the same. Despite my best efforts, Mal still had that effect on me. And I wasn't the only one. A pretty blond girl strolled by and waved, throwing Mal a flirtatious glance over her shoulder. "Hey, — Leigh Bardugo

We adored it, and discussed it, and swapped jokes from it, and it made us feel more alive. In some way, it was cathartic: it exhilarated us by lifting us up above our everyday frustrations and boredoms. It gave us a liberating perspective on this odd event unfolding around us, called 'our life.' And when, years later, I became bewildered by the reception of Monty Python by some of our looniest fans, I suddenly realised they were experiencing exactly the combination of emotions that had rendered me such a devotee of the Goons, and so I was able to forgive them. — John Cleese

Thank you."

Okay, sincerity was not what I had come to expect from this man.

I shook it off. "It's easier for me to get information if you're alive."

The corner of his mouth twitched as he sat up. Jesus, abs like that should be illegal.

He caught his breath and shook his head. "Either way, I'm grateful." He glanced my way, his dark eyes full of secrets. "And for me, that doesn't happen very often."

I raised a brow. "You're usually an ungrateful bastard?"

"No." He chuckled, sucking in a pained breath before lifting his gaze to meet mine. "I rarely have anything to be thankful for. — Lisa Kessler

All great athletes essentially come to a fork in the road where they have to change their approach to succeed. It's a sign of intelligence and character. My college coach, Jack Hartman, made me play only defense for a full year in practice when I became academically ineligible for my junior year at Southern Illinois. Embarrassed, I thought at first about arguing with Coach Hartman over what I felt was a tremendous slight. But instead I started lifting weights and working so hard on my defense that my teammates hated to see me match up against them in practice. That was the turning point of my life, on and off the court. — Walt Frazier

Then I did something really stupid, lifting my head I kissed him softly on his mouth,he in return took the kiss and kissed me back. I opened up, wanting more, and he complied. The moment our tongues touched, and I really tasted him, my world went spinning and hit full
supernova. — Karen Swart

Let me tell you what I am sure of,what I want. I want you to fuck me tonight. I want you inside me. It's my first time, but I know I liked your finger in my ass when we made out in the locker room. How do you feel about that?"
Jace grinned and rose from the chair, lifting Colt's hand to help him up. Their thighs brushed against one another as he stood.
"You're finally speaking my language. — Kindle Alexander

If you want," he said with a shrug. "It's up to you. If you want to be lifted, I'll lift you.'
"Oh yes," Elsa said, refilling all the glasses. "There will be lifting."
Clio realized that she hadn't spoken through any of this. It was all Elsa lifting and carrying the conversation, twirling around with it.
"Sure," Clio said. "Pick up me up."
Aidan tipped his head in concession, his green eyes lit up for once.
"You want me to pick you up, I guess I can't refuse. — Maureen Johnson

At length he spoke; without moving or lifting up his face. "Here again!" he said. "Here again," replied the Phantom. "I see you in the fire," said the haunted man; "I hear you in music, in the wind, in the dead stillness of the night." The Phantom moved its head, assenting. "Why do you come, to haunt me thus?" "I come as I am called," replied the Ghost. "No. Unbidden," exclaimed the Chemist. "Unbidden be it," said the Spectre. "It is enough. I am here. — Arnold Bennett

Here he shook hands with me; not in the common way, but standing at a good distance from me, and lifting my hand up and down like a pump handle, that he was a little afraid of. — Charles Dickens

Why, I ... I still like you." Nerves fluttered in her chest, but she kept her tone light. "Do you like me?"
A few moments passed in silence. She would have counted them in heartbeats, but her foolish heart had become a most unreliable timepiece. It gave three pounding beats in a flurry, then none at all.
Just when she'd begun to despair, he turned his head, catching her in a passionate, openmouthed kiss. He put both arms around her, fisting his hands in the fabric of her dress, lifting her up and against his chest. So that her body recalled every inch of his, every second of their blissful lovemaking. The now-familiar ache returned - that sweet, hollow pang of desire that only deepened as his tongue flickered over hers. In a matter of seconds, he had her gasping. Needing. Damp.
Then he set her back on her toes. Pressed his brow to hers and released a deep, resonant sigh. And just before turning to leave, he spoke a single word.
He said, "No. — Tessa Dare

Of what is lost, irretrievably lost, all I wish to recover is the daily availability of my writing, lines capable of grasping me by the hair and lifting me up when I'm at the end of my strength. (Significant, said the foreigner.) Odes to the human and the divine. Let my writing be like the verses of by Leopardi that Daniel Biga recited on a Nordic bridge to gird himself with courage. — Roberto Bolano

I say solidarity is knowing the future is long and wide, with room for everyone on earth to enter. I say it's taking the long view of the job. Helping you onto the wall, so you can reach down and pull me up. Lifting you into the tree, so you can shake down peaches for two. That solidarity is a two-way street, fires burning at both ends, and the only well in the middle. — Aurora Levins Morales

I forbid you to go."

"I am not yours to forbid. Comfort your pride with your conquest!"

"Felicia!"

The raw anguish of it stopped me. Tears were threatening to spill from my eyes so that I had to bend my head, fighting for self-control, and I did not hear him come up beside me. His hand touched my shoulder, then dropped again as I shivered.

"Does this look like pride?" His voice was shaking. "Or must I grovel?"

He was on his knees at my feet, and as I watched he lifted the hem of my gown to his lips and kissed it. I made some sort of sound in my throat, but I could not speak.

"You cannot go." He spoke in a whisper, without lifting his head. "I love you. I have always loved you--I bought you from your vile brother because I could not live without you."

As I stared down at his bowed, bright head, the earth shook under my feet. This could not be happening, I thought. — Teresa Denys

We laughed and laughed and passed the bong around each other taking turns to burn our lungs. The room was smokier than ever before and it was late in the afternoon when I realised I was stuck.
I was stuck to the sofa like glue. My whole body sank deeper and deeper into the material. My blood felt like liquid lead in my limbs as if lifting my arm could not be possible without a powerful crane. My mind drifted to the big cranes you see on building sites and I imagined it attempting to lift my arm as it buckled under the weight.
I closed my eyes unable to hold my eyelids open anymore. My body sank even deeper as if the sofa was melting chocolate and my body heat was melting it beneath me. It began to feel like thick treacle beneath me as if it would stick to me making it harder for me to move or get up then I felt his hand again. — Nicci Greene

You're stuck," I blurted, his grin died and he blinked.
"Come again?"
I swallowed, sucked in breath and forged ahead.
"I was lost but you ... Tate, you got stuck," I told him.
He stared at me and it took a lot but I braved his stare.
Then he asked, "You up for the job of pullin' me out?"
"I ... " I swallowed again. "No," I answered truthfully.
"No?" he asked, his eyebrows lifting, his face getting dark, his arms
growing tighter.
"I ... " I pulled in breath then whispered, "I kinda like it here. — Kristen Ashley

He coiled himself neatly and waited without fidgeting, as was polite; but at length, when Majestatis showed no signs of waking - after ten minutes, or perhaps five - very nearly five - Temeraire coughed; then he coughed again, a little more emphatically, and Majestatis sighed and said, without opening his eyes, "So you are not leaving, I suppose?"
"Oh," Temeraire said, his ruff prickling, "I thought you were only sleeping, not ignoring me deliberately; I will go at once."
"Well, you might as well stay now," Majestatis said, lifting his head and yawning himself away. "I don't bother to wake up if it isn't important enough to wait for, that's all. — Naomi Novik

It's like lifting off in an airplane: you're on the ground, on the ground, on the ground... and then you're up, riding on a magical cushion of air and prince of all you survey. That makes me happy, because it's what I was made to do. — F Scott Fitzgerald

You can draw!" I exclaimed.
"Yeah," his voice echoed from the kitchen.
"I mean really draw [ ... ]"
"I told you I would major in art, hypothetically."
"Yeah, but I thought the bullshit you fed me about lifting up the human spirit was compensation for not being able to draw. — Jennifer Echols

Last night I danced.
My body rose from its slump for the first time since the beginning of sorrows - my fingers beckoning to the stars at arm's length, back arching as tingles bubbled up my spine, hips caught in a silent tempo while on tiptoe I twirled in endless euphoric circles. It didn't matter that you loved me or that you didn't. For I was wanted by the gods last night, their seraphs and muses descending on moonbeams into my midst, caressing my face and gliding their spirited arms about my waist, lifting my toes from the soil that I might feel what it is to fly without heaviness of heart. I danced with them under the glow of a loyal moon. For one brief, visceral dance I joyed as Heaven joys - in endless bliss.
And the universe cherished me. — Richelle E. Goodrich

I once thought that would be the consummation of all joy - to be united by a bond of love - to be lost in His presence there as if nothing else mattered.
And now - there is much more. Instead of myself and my Christ and my love and my prayer, there is the might of a prayer stronger than thunder and milder than the flight of doves rising up from the Priest who is the Center of every priest, shaking the foundations of the universe and lifting up - me, Host, altar, sanctuary, people, church, abbey, forest, cities, continents, seas and worlds to God and plunging everything into Him. — Thomas Merton

I'm often asked, "Isn't nursing depressing?" I have experienced real depression in my life, but not because of my profession. Nursing is the opposite of despair; it offers the opportunity to do something about suffering. But you have to be strong to be a nurse. You need strong muscles and stamina for the long shifts and heavy lifting, intelligence and discipline to acquire knowledge and exercise critical thinking. As for emotional fortitude- well, I'm still working on that. Most of all, you need moral courage because nursing is about the pursuit of justice. It requires you stand up to bullies, to do things that are right but difficult, and to speak your mind even when you are afraid. I wasn't strong like this when I started out. Nursing made me strong. — Tilda Shalof

It wasn't a hard kiss, but it wasn't particularly soft either. It was just perfect. The perfect amount of sweet and hot, and...
She put her hands on his chest, shoving him backward. "Please don't mess with me. Please. Just talk to me."
Jackson's eyes shadowed with regret as he slowly released her wrist, lifting a hand to her face. The back of his fingers stroked her cheek softly. "Talk to you?"
She nodded.
"What shall I talk about?" he whispered.
"How about the fact that you're supposed to be in Houston right now? It's the only reason I came over."
"I was in Houston," he said.
"For what, an hour?" she asked.
"Probably about that, yeah." He was watching her mouth as his thumb brushed softly over her lips.
Her breath caught at the tenderness in his touch - in his eyes.
"What happened?"
His eyes flicked up to hers. "You want the full story, or the important part?"
"The important part," she whispered.
"I love you. — Lauren Layne

Adrian Ivashkov wasn't easy to surprise, but I surprised him then when I brought his mouth toward mine. I kissed him, and for a moment, he was too stunned to respond. That lasted for, oh, about a second. Then the intensity I'd come to know so well in him returned. He pushed me backward, lifting me so that I sat at the table. The tablecloth bunched up, knocking over some of the glasses. I heard what sounded like a china plate crash against the floor.
Whatever logic and reason I normally possessed had melted away. There was nothing but flesh and fire left, and I wasn't going to lie to myself - at least not tonight. — Richelle Mead

On bended knee is no way to be free
lifting up an empty cup I ask silently
that all my destinations will accept the one that's me
so I can breath
Circles they grow and they swallow people whole
half their lives they say goodnight to wive's they'll never know
got a mind full of questions and a teacher in my soul
so it goes ... — Eddie Vedder

I know a lot of people did a lot of heavy lifting to make me successful and I do everything in my power not to screw it up. — Charles Barkley

You think my feelings toward you apathetic? You think you bore me?"
"Don't I?"
He shook his head slowly, continuing toward her, stalking her in the small space.
"No.God knows you are infuriating . And impulsive ... " Her back came up against the wall, and she gave a little squeak, even as he advanced. "And altogether maddening ... " He placed one hand to her jaw, carefully lifting her face to his, feeling the leap of her pulse under his fingertips. "And thoroughly intoxicating ... " The last came out on a low growl, and her lips parted, soft and pink and perfect.
He leaned close, his lips a fraction from hers.
"No ... you are not boring. — Sarah MacLean

It was over Ed's shoulder that I really saw Milli for the first time. She was standing there just looking at me. Ed glanced at Milli and then, like a good friend, Ed walked away.
I have a few mental photographs I can see in my mind's eye. One of them is Milli, hands on her hips, looking me up and down as if the bike and I were one lean machine. Her body language, the gleam in her eyes, the tease in her smile, all combined into an erotic femme challenge. Milli set the action into irresistible motion by lifting on eyebrow. — Leslie Feinberg

Then, lifting me up, his head fell back and he opened his mouth wide. "Once I let Lucy Larson into my heart! I was able to take my sad, shitty song and make it better!" he sung, off key and at full volume. Some of the students around us tipped their beers at him, some broke in during the "Nah, nah, nah," chorus, and a few looked at him like he was a crazy man.
But I just laughed - I already knew he was crazy. And I loved him for it. "I think that's called taking creative liberties with the lyrics. — Nicole Williams

He acted every part of an orator, and I could observe many periods of threatenings, and others of promises, pity, and kindness. I answered in a few words, but in the most submissive manner, lifting up my left hand, and both my eyes to the sun, as calling him for a witness; and being almost famished with hunger, having not eaten a morsel for some hours before I left the ship, I found the demands of nature so strong upon me, that I could not forbear showing my impatience (perhaps against the strict rules of decency) by putting my finger frequently to my mouth, to signify that I wanted food. The hurgo — Jonathan Swift

Prison left me with some strange little tics.' She has taken all the door off their hinges in all the apartments she has lived in since. It's not that she has anxiety attacks about small spaces, she says, it's just that she starts to sweat and go cold. 'This apartment is perfect for me,' she says, looking around the open space.
'How about elevators?' I ask, recalling the schlepp up the stairs.
'Exactly,' she replies, 'I don't like them much either.'
One day, years later, her husband Charlie was fooling around at home, playing the guitar. Miriam said something provocative and he stood up suddenly, lifting his arm to take off the guitar strap. He was probably just going to say 'That's outrageous', or tickle her or tackle her. But she was gone. She was already down in the courtyard of the building. She does not remember getting down the stairs-it was an automatic flight reaction. — Anna Funder

When I'd looked back up at the window, the white curtain flapping in the gusty breeze, I'd felt both sadness and relief, the oppositional tug of heaviness and lightness, one lifting me up, one pushing me down. I understood then, Lulu and I had started something, something I'd always wanted, but also something I was scared of getting. Something ai wanted more of. And, also, something I wanted to get away from. The truth and its opposite. — Gayle Forman

I didn't believe for a minute that this liquid colossus, which had brought about the death of hundreds of humans within itself, with which my entire race had for decades been trying in vain to establish at least a thread of communication - that this ocean, lifting me up unwittingly like a speck of dust, could be moved by the tragedy of two human beings. But — Stanislaw Lem

When he grew up, he drove muscle cars (loud and fast) and motorcycles (again, loud and fast) and sat in his Dad's garage with the door rolled up, lifting weights. I watched this out of my bedroom window and it was better than anything on television, believe you me. — Kristen Ashley

Ah! If you have a self-will in your hearts, pray to God to uproot it. Have you self-love? Beseech the Holy Spirit to turn it out; for if you will always will to do as God wills, you must be happy. I have heard of some good old woman in a cottage, who had nothing but a piece of bread and a little water, and lifting up her hands, she said, as a blessing, "What!? all this, and Christ too?" What is "all this," compared with what we deserve? And I have read of someone dying, who was asked if he wished to live or die; and he said, "I have no wish at all about it." "But if you might wish, which would you choose?" "I would not choose at all." "But if God bade you choose?" "I would beg God to choose for me, for I would not know which to take." Oh happy state! to be perfectly acquiescent, to lie passive in His hand, and know no will but His. — Charles Haddon Spurgeon

The room was almost dark, with just flickers of light coming from the logs burning in the hearth. I could just see his shape, sitting in the leather, wing-backed chair, silhouetted by the fire.
"Come here."
His voice was quiet, but with the firmness I had come to expect from him. I moved closer and knelt down in front of him, my naked bottom facing the warmth of the fire. I bent my head downwards and looked at the floor as I had been taught, but he surprised me by lifting up my chin with his hand.
"You look so beautiful."
He bent and kissed me softly on the lips, and I shivered in anticipation. Was it to be pleasure or pain this time? Or perhaps a combination of both, given in the way that only he can. — Rachel De Vine

Raffe throws me a dirty look. He bends over and swipes his arm behind my knees, lifting me up in his embrace.
'I can go with one of the locusts.' I stiffen in his arms and try to lean as far away from him as I can.
'The hell you will.' He runs a couple of steps before spreading his wings. — Susan Ee

You better hope she doesn't say a word," Gabe warned, lifting a finger to Uri's nose.
Uri grabbed the finger laughing, "What are you going to do, cupcake? Seduce me to death, in all your sexy glory?"
"Just shut up," Gabe groaned, pushing the door shut in his friend's face. — Wendy Owens

What's your favorite book?" he mocks, lifting his head back up. "Asking a bibliophile that question is pure evil. There's no way I can choose only one, and if you make me choose one, you're forcing me to betray the hundreds of other books that have knocked me on my ass and shaped my soul. If you ask me that, you're the devil. — Rachael Wade

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

She bit her lip and looked him up and down..
Lucy eye's zoned in on Cam's junk.
He covered his dick with both his hands. "I mean it, Lucy."
He took a step back.
She took a step forward.
"Quit objectifying me!" he yelled. "I have feelings, you know!"
She took a few more steps forward until she was in front of him. She placed her hand over his; still covering his parts, and raised her eyebrows.
"No," he warned.
She pouted.
"No," he said again.
She licked her lips.
"Oh, fuck it!" he grunted, before lifting her over his shoulders. He bumped fists with me on the way out. — Jay McLean

They reminded me of birds gathering around and lifting up the broken one of their flock onto their shoulders, bearing it along. — Kate Hamer

I want people of faith on my side, not just voting on election day but by hoisting me up by getting down on your knees and lifting me up in prayer. Those who have a different view of things are already organizing ... Will you stand in the gap with those of us who believe there's a God, and a God who is strong? We can stand in the gap together and speak about issues we believe in and we will be victorious. — Rick Perry

For me, prayer means launching out of the heart towards God; it means lifting up one's eyes, quite simply, to heaven, a cry of grateful love, from the crest of joy or the trough of despair; it's a vast, supernatural force which opens out my heart, and binds me close to Jesus. — Therese Of Lisieux

It is harder to be a lifter than a bodybuilder ... lifting is purely masculine whereas bodybuilding entails feminine traits. Bodybuilding reminds me of a woman getting ready to go somewhere. Can you tell me that greasing your body up and posing in front of a mirror is masculine? A bodybuilder puts strength secondary to his physique, whereas the lifter puts strength foremost because it is more masculine to do so. — Doug Hepburn

The chamber-maid had left no ******* *** under the bed: - Cannot you contrive, master, quoth Susannah, lifting up the sash with one hand, as she spoke, and helping me up into the window seat with the other, - cannot you manage, my dear, for a single time to **** *** ** *** ******? — Laurence Sterne

I've always been intimidated by gyms, have never been able to enjoy the towel-round-the-shoulder confidence of somebody who knows he can bench-press 250 pounds, or even knows what that means or how much 250 pounds weighs. I just know I don't like lifting heavy things, especially since I had this wrist injury which stopped me playing tennis and which means that I've gone from being fit and thin-looking to just a feeble streak of unshouldered manhood whose only saving grace is that he doesn't take up much space, who leaves plenty of room for others - especially now that I was several days into a quasi-hunger strike. — Geoff Dyer

He finds his way up the side of my neck, biting me just a little, moving lightly back and forth, like he's searching for a special spot. When he finds it, I make small sound I've never heard myself make before, like a gasp. He traces his tongue in slow circles around that spot. I realise my hands are just lying in my lap, doing nothing. I concentrate on lifting my arm and reaching for his face, but he catches my hand and holds it tightly at the wrist. His lips leave the spot and find their way back to my mouth, which is waiting, hoping for his return. He plants a gentle kiss on my lower lip and then whispers in my ear, I just got lucky, Rose. — Louise Rozett

People come into our lives and then they go out again. The entropy law, as applied to human relations. Sometimes in their passing, though, they register an unimagined and far-reaching influence, as I suspect Hughes Rudd did upon me. There is no scientific way to discern such effects, but memory believes before knowing remembers. And the past lives coiled within the present, beyond sight, beyond revocation, lifting us up or weighting us down, sealed away
almost completely
behind walls of pearl. — David Quammen

Personally, I didn't take a single photograph while I was there, but that's not all that unusual for me. I suppose my aversion to snapping pictures may have something to do with shaky hands and blurry results, but there's another reason: The act of lifting up the camera and positioning it between me and the object of my interest separates me from the experience. — Michael J. Fox

he leaned down and pressed his face to my belly.

"You're having my baby," he announced against my skin.

I felt my eyes well up and tears drip down my face. finally. He'd finally said it.

"Sure am," I replied, my hoarse voice belying the nonchalance of my words.

"I'm going to do my best, okay?" he said nervously. "I promise. I'll be a good dad to him."

"You're already a good dad."

But to this baby," he replied, lifting his face and pressing his hand to my belly. "I'm going to be a good dad to this baby."

"I never doubted that."

"I did," he confessed, his head rising to shamefully meet my eyes.

The truth of his words hit me like a ton of bricks, and I finally understood why he'd ignored the proof of our child for so long.

I nodded once, and he nodded back, as if, without words, we were making a pact then and there to take care of this baby we hadn't planned for or wanted. — Nicole Jacquelyn