My Head Spinning Quotes & Sayings

My head's a carousel of pictures and The spinning never stops. — Conor Oberst

I had crossed the yard to him slowly, watching him draw closer, baffled by the way my heart was skittering around my chest. Then he'd picked me up and spun me in a circle, and I'd clung to him, breathing in his sweet, familiar smell, shocked by how much I'd missed him. Dimly, I'd been aware that I still had a shard of the blue cup in my hand, that it was digging into my palm, but I didn't want to let go.
When he finally set me down and ambled off to the kitchen to find his lunch, I stood there, my palm dripping blood, my head still spinning, knowing that everything had changed.
Ana Kuya had scoled me for getting blood on the clean kitchen floor. She'd bandaged my hand and told me it would heal. But I knew it would just go on hurting.
In the creaking silence of the cell, Mal kissed the scar on my palm, the wound made so long ago by the edge of that broken cup, a fragile thing I'd thought beyond repair. — Leigh Bardugo

Love potions? For Will 'erondale? 'Tain't my way to turn down payment, but any man who looks like you 'as got no need of love potions, and that's a fact."
"No," Will said, a little desperation in his voice. "I was looking for the opposite, really
something that might put an end to being in love."
"An 'atred potion?" Mol still sounded amused.
"I was hoping for something more akin to indifference? Tolerance?"
She made a snorting noise, astonishingly human for a ghost. "I 'ardly like to tell you this, Nephilim, but if you want a girl to 'ate you, there's easy enough ways of making it 'appen. You don't need my help with the poor thing."
And with that she vanished, spinning away into the mists among the graves. Will, looking after her, sighed. "Not for her," he said under his breath, though there was no one to hear him, "for me ... " And he leaned his head against the cold iron gate. — Cassandra Clare

Welcome to my gates, Ista dy Chalion. I am the Mother of Jokona." Her hand lifted from the girl's head, flicked out, fingers spreading.
Within Ista, the god unfolded.
Her second sight burst anew upon Ista's mind like a dazzling lightning stroke, brilliant beyond hope, revealing an eerie landscape. She saw it all, at one glance: the dozen demons, the swirling, crackling lines of power, the agonized souls, Joen's dark, dense, writhing passenger. The thirteenth demon, spinning wildly through the air toward her, trailing its evil umbilicus.
Ista opened her jaws in a fierce grin, and took it in a gulp.
"Welcome to mine, Joen of Jokona," said Ista. "I am the Mouth of Hell. — Lois McMaster Bujold

The wheels are spinning in my head all the time. — Justin Berfield

She begins walking toward the door. "Violette?" I call, craning my head so I can see her.
"Yes, Kate?" she asks, looking curious.
"I hope I'm not the Champion," I say, my voice dead calm now, "because I would hate to give you any additional satisfaction. But if I am, I hope you have to chop off an entire hand this time and eat a raw cat in order to absorb me. And I hope you choke on it."
Her creepily calm demeanor finally shatters. Making a noise between a growl and a scream, she stomps over to the bed and slaps my face as hard as she can. Then, spinning on her heels, she races out of the room, slamming the door behind her.
I lay my head back down and taste blood in my mouth. And smile. — Amy Plum

I don't dream of a ceiling fan which is always here spinning above my head. I dream of a cool weather — Munia Khan

The spinning wheel is itself an exquisite piece of machinery. My head daily bows in reverence to its unknown inventor. — Mahatma Gandhi

I've never been a big fan of subtle art. I like art that gets deep into my head and starts my brain spinning with new ideas and inspiration and my whole body is full of energy. — Jello Biafra

The bed we loved in was a spinning world
of forests, castles, torchlight, clifftops, seas
where we would dive for pearls. My lover's words
were shooting stars which fell to earth as kisses
on these lips; my body now a softer rhyme
to his, now echo, assonance; his touch
a verb dancing in the centre of a noun.
Some nights, I dreamed he'd written me, the bed
a page beneath his writer's hands. Romance
and drama played by touch, by scent, by taste.
In the other bed, the best, our guests dozed on,
dribbling their prose. My living laughing love -
I hold him in the casket of my widow's head
as he held me upon that next best bed.

- Anne Hathaway — Carol Ann Duffy

At home I used to walk through emotional wastelands where the lines on craggy faces were so deep that the wind whistled through them. People fell in and out of my life, but it was the places that really mattered. Even now I can feel them tugging at my sleeve and spinning around in my head. All the old stories have it wrong, because it's not the ghost that haunts the house; it's the house that haunts the ghost. I feel lost out here, and everything reminds me that I'm not quite real. In the end it's always home that damns us. — Damien Echols

I bit back a gag. "Gods, your breath is kicking." I pulled the blade free, revolted by the sucking sound. "For real."
Cocking its head to the side, it blinked. "Kicking?"
"Yeah." Spinning around, I planted my left foot and kicked out, catching the fury in the stomach. It flew back, smacking into the tree. "See? Kicking. — Jennifer L. Armentrout

Her head started spinning, thinking about a date with Rhett O'Donnell.
I need to go fishing and clear my mind, she thought. I've always been in love with Tanner, and now Rhett is in the picture. I had trouble handling one secret cowboy. Two is one cowboy too many. — Carolyn Brown

A part of me wants to spin around and slam the bottom of my heel into her head. In kick-boxing, we'd call that a Spinning Back Kick. Here, it's called, "how to get my crazy jealous ass fired." There's no way I'd get a thumbs up from Cain on that part. — K.A. Tucker

He had never seen a gunshot wound. He kept asking what it felt like? dull or sharp? an ache or burn? My head was spinning and naturally I could give him no kind of coherent answer but I remember thinking dimly that it was sort of like the first time I got drunk, or slept with a girl; not quite what one expected, really, but once it happened one realized it couldn't be any other way. Neon lights: Motel 6, Dairy Queen. Colors so bright, they nearly broke my heart. — Donna Tartt

Are you okay?"
"I don't know. I have to think about it." Her head was still spinning. "We're on the lawn," she said slowly. "Our clothes are torn. I'm pretty sure I have the imprint of your fingers dented into my butt."
"I did my best," he murmured.
She snickered first, then chuckled, then broke into fits of giddy, hiccupping laughter. "Jesus, Roarke, Jesus Christ, look at us."
"In a minute. I think I'm still partially blind. — J.D. Robb

No spinning, I said. I wasn't sure my head or heart could take it. Up close, he was so warm, and so beautiful. I was already dizzy enough. — Alexandra Bracken

The world stops spinning. She is the ocean crashing into me, tossing me, drowning me. I can't breathe. I do not care. I want to die right now. I want nothing more than to drown in her. My head is filled with a gray fog. I am being pulled toward heaven and my angel is kissing me.

Heidi Acosta. Barbie Girl (Kindle Locations 3330-3332). — Heidi Acosta

Once, when I was a child, I dreamed that Grimbeard the Ghastly, on the deck of his ship The Endless Journey, threw the sword Endeavor up into the air. Up and up it spun, through the inky blackness, across the cavernous span of a hundred years, until, entirely of its own accord, my own left hand sprang out of space and stars and never-ending time and caught it. Now that I am so very old, I am dreaming once again. And in my dream, I am the one throwing the sword. It is spinning now, in the black starlit waters of my dream, right above your head, dear reader. A sword that may look second-best, and secondhand, but but carries the memories of a thousand lost fights, a history lesson in itself. Reach out, and catch it by the hilt. Swear by its name, Endeavor, to do your utmost to make the world a better place than when you arrived in it. For look! There will be dragons all around you, as camouflaged as a Stealth Dragon. — Cressida Cowell

Our evening-long tango of stares had my head spinning. — Jennifer Comeaux

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

My head was spinning. I could think of nothing better to calm it down than the Oxford English Dictionary. — Alan Bradley

I shook my head, and his eyes traveled up my wall to the ceiling. I could almost see the wheels spinning inside his head. "What are you up to?" I asked, narrowing my eyes.

"I'm trying to think of another bet. — Jamie McGuire

I lay there, no longer fighting, since my head was spinning too much. And because I wasn't going to win anyway. And because I kind of liked the feeling of sensual captivity, at least by this particular jailer. — Karen Chance

She put her arms around me again and we held each other for a long moment, her head on my shoulder, breath warm on my neck, and suddenly I wanted nothing more than to close all the little gaps that existed between our bodies, to collapse into one being. But then she pulled away and kissed my forehead and started back toward the others. I was too dazed to follow right away, because there was something new happening, a wheel inside my heart I'd never noticed before, and it was spinning so fast it made me dizzy. And the farther away she got, the faster it spun, like there was an invisible cord unreeling from it that stretched between us, and if she went too far it would snap - and kill me. — Ransom Riggs

I sometimes, in my sprightly moments, consider myself, in my great chair at school, as some dictator at the head of a common-wealth. In this little state I can discover all the great geniuses, all the surprising actions and revolutions of the great world in miniature. I have several renowned generals but three feet high, and several deep-projecting politicians in petticoats. I have others catching and dissecting flies, accumulating remarkable pebbles, cockleshells, etc., with as ardent curiosity as any virtuoso in the Royal Society ... . At one table sits Mr. Insipid foppling and fluttering, spinning his whirligig, or playing with his fingers as gaily and wittily as any Frenchified coxcomb brandishes his cane and rattles his snuff box. At another sits the polemical divine, plodding and wrangling in his mind about Adam's fall in which we sinned, all as his primer has it. — John Adams

The words stopped and the spinning feeling in my head, if only because it felt as though someone had had all my thoughts before, which was comforting, like knowing that people had survived a tornado using the same basement you were currently locked away in ... — Matthew Quick

My head was spinning, I had never seen blood. Four years old, this don't feel like love. — LL Cool J

Not Really, he said then lit a cigarette and handed it to me. I inhaled. Coughed. Wheezed. Gasped for breath. Coughed again. Considered vomiting. Grabbed the swinging bench, head spinning, and threw the cigarette to the ground and stomped on it, convinced my Great Perhaps did not involve cigarettes. — John Green

He pulled me gently to my feet, but the moment left my head spinning anyway. — Julia Day

Her eyes grew wide, and she fanned her face. "Lots of lickable men, and I feel like a kid trapped in a candy store with entirely too many flavors of jelly bellies to choose from, my head is spinning. I don't know where I should start, because damn it, I want to taste-test them all." She sagged back against the door with a dramatic sigh. — C.A. Harms

Rip Rig & Panic was a milestone for me, and I've always been really thankful that I did that when I was 16. It saved me for when I suddenly became really successful later on. So even when my head's been spinning like a banshee, my feet still feel held down to the ground. — Neneh Cherry

My head was spinning. I felt like I'd been drifting, lost at sea all my life, and now that I'd found dry land, I couldn't quite get my bearings. — Carolee Dean

It was the way your sweet, soft hands wiped away my tears, and the way your body just curved into mine when you let me hold you. It all made me feel, for just an instant, that everything really was going to be all right. No one has ever comforted me like that ... except my mom." What the fuck? Did I just say all that out loud? I shook my head furiously from side to side as the room started spinning me like a Tilt-a-Whirl at the county fair back home.
Abby grabbed my shoulders to steady me. I blinked my eyes trying to focus on her blurry, but beautiful image. "Most of all, it's that I want someone like you to want me - just for me, not for Jake Slater the singer of Runaway Train." I smacked my hand hard against my chest. "For what's really inside me. — Katie Ashley

I was reading a poem by my idol, Wallace Stevens, in which he said, 'The self is a cloister of remembered sounds.' My first response was, Yesss! How did he know that? It's like he's reading my mind. But my second response was, I need some new sounds to remember. I've been stuck in my little isolation chamber for so long I'm spinning through the same sounds I've been hearing in my head all my life. If I go on this way, I'll get old too fast, without remembering any more sounds than I already know now. The only one who remembers any of my sounds is me. How do you turn down the volume on your personal-drama earphones and learn how to listen to other people? How do you jump off one moving train, marked Yourself, and jump onto a train moving in the opposite direction, marked Everybody Else? I loved a Modern Lovers song called, 'Don't Let Our Youth Go to Waste,' and I didn't want to waste mine. — Rob Sheffield

In my head, at least, the business of spinning stories has no closing time. Twists in my characters' lives, glimpses of their secrets, obstacles to their dreams ... all arrive unbidden when I'm getting cash at the ATM, walking my son to camp, singing a hymn at a wedding. — Julia Glass

Anne Hathaway
The bed we loved in was a spinning world
of forests, castles, torchlight, clifftops, seas
where we would dive for pearls. My lover's words
were shooting stars which fell to earth as kisses
on these lips; my body now a softer rhyme
to his, now echo, assonance; his touch
a verb dancing in the centre of a noun.
Some nights, I dreamed he'd written me, the bed
a page beneath his writer's hands. Romance
and drama played by touch, by scent, by taste.
In the other bed, the best, our guests dozed on,
dribbling their prose. My living laughing love -
I hold him in the casket of my widow's head
as he held me upon that next best bed. — Carol Ann Duffy

We lay side by side on the extension roof, hands behind our heads, elbows just touching. My head was still spinning a little, not unpleasantly, from the dancing and the wine. The breeze was warm across my face, and even through the city lights I could see constellations: the Big Dipper, Orion's Belt. The pine tree at the bottom of the garden rustled like the sea, ceaselessly. For a moment I felt as if the universe had turned upside down and we were falling softly into an enormous black bowl of stars and nocturne, and I knew, beyond any doubt, that everything was going to be all right. — Tana French

I am sitting here 93 million miles from the sun on a rounded rock which is spinning at the rate of 1000 miles an hour ... and my head pointing down into space with nothing between me and infinity but something called gravity which I can't even understand, and which you can't even buy any place so as to have some stored away for a gravityless day ... — Russell Baker

I pull him closer, grab a fistful of his jacket and kiss him as hard as I can, my fingers already attempting to release the first of his buttons. Warner grips my hips and allows his hands to conquer my body. He tastes peppermint, smells like gardenias. His arms are strong around me, his lips soft, almost sweet against my skin. There's an electric charge between us I hadn't anticipated. My head is spinning. His lips are on my neck, tasting me, devouring me, and I force myself to think straight. — Tahereh Mafi

And then she kissed me. A big, full-on-the-lips kiss that left my head spinning.
"I thought we were just friends!" I said, pulling back in surprise.
"Um yes," she said sheepishly. "Now we are. I just needed one to remember us by."
We were both laughing, our hearts soaring and breaking at once. — Ransom Riggs

I try to become more humble and more myself with every year. There was a while when I got famous where I was so confused and my head was spinning. — Mira Sorvino

Roth grinned then. Anyway, back to me. I'm all better and I am back. He slid me a sly look that made me want to punch him instead of cry into my pillow like a baby. I'm sure I was missed. He took a big bite of the hamburger and grinned around the mouthful. A lot.
I didn't know what happened that switched my emotions so fast. The hurt his rejection had left behind exploded into rage- like the head-spinning, spraying-green-vomit kind of rage. My brain kicked off. I wasn't thinking as I reached over and plucked the hamburger right out of his hand.
Twisting at the waist, I threw the hamburger on the floor behind Roth as hard as I could. The satisfactory splat it made as ketchup and mayo splattered like a gruesome burger massacre brought a wide smile to my face. — Jennifer L. Armentrout

I opened my mouth, but I just couldn't find the words to express the mishmash of frustration and plain old mad I had spinning through my head. I moved my lips. I narrowed my eyes. I made angry hand gestures. But no words came out. I started to pace, gnawing my fingernails to the quick. Fortunately, they grew back almost instantly, which meant I had an endless supply.
Andrea stopped me in my tracks by grabbing my shoulders. OK, sweetheart, I'm all for nonverbal forms of communication, but you're starting to look like an extremely pissed-off mime. Use your words. — Molly Harper

Truth be told, my head was spinning so much that the car could have been doing interpretive dance in a lilac tutu and I might not have noticed. — Jim Butcher

You don't have to be worried, okay? You don't have to be scared." His voice is twinkling again. "I'm not flirting with you."
Embarrassment sweeps through me. Flirting. A dirty word. He thinks I think he's flirting. "I'm not - I don't think you were - I would never think that you - " The words collide in my mouth, and now I know there's no amount of darkness that can cover the rush of red to my face.
He cocks his head to the side. "Are you flirting with me, then?"
"What? No," I splutter. My mind is spinning blindly in a panic, and I realize I don't even know what flirting is. I just know about it from textbooks; I just know that it's bad. Is it possible to flirt without knowing you're flirting? Is he flirting? My left eye goes full flutter. — Lauren Oliver

Don't ever let anyone tell you that history doesn't repeat. For 70 years, liberals have been spinning the yarn that FDR's New Deal, despite all the evidence that it exacerbated and prolonged the Great Depression, quickened our economic recovery. Indeed, I remember scratching my head when one of my college history professors in the 1970s tried to convince us of that theory and its corollary - an even better howler - that FDR was actually a conservative, because if he hadn't implemented his socialist programs, the republic would have died right there. — David Limbaugh

Okay. This guy came to the bar and flirted with you, then he pummels some guy for hitting you." Doug counts off each attribute on his fingers. "Then he chases after you to make sure you're okay. But you blow him off because he's a cop." Doug shook his head. "I'm sorry, but what exactly is the problem?"

Furi's head was spinning at his screwed-up emotions. "I told you how Patrick started hitting me after I gave him what he asked for in bed. Whenever we'd fuck a certain way, he'd love it, but would always freak out later. I can see the same shit in Syn. As soon as men like that fuck, they lose their shit and immediately feel like they have to reclaim their lost manhood, on my face. Mark my words. Syn would snap just like Pat did."

"How the hell do you know that?"

"Call it my gay man's intuition. — A.E. Via

I want you to know that you will not be alone in your loneliness," he said.
Her tear-filled eyes welled over. "You will be surrounded by your court ... and all the beautiful ladies there."
Rodrigo shook his head. "I've never cared about any of them. I shall be lonely for you. Lonely in the midst of a crowd ... surrounded by a hundred faces, none of them yours." He held Rapunzel's tearful gaze, and tried to swallow the lump in his throat. But he couldn't. "And as everything and everyone is spinning around me, I shall be thinking of you and longing to be here ... " he brushed the backs of his fingers against her wet cheek, " ... here in the tower, with my Rapunzel. — Lisa Valdez

Digging a ditch where madness gives a bit
Digging a ditch where silence lives
Digging a ditch for when I'm old
Digging this ditch my story's told
Where all these troubles weigh down on me will rise ...
Where all these questions spinning round my head will die — Dave Matthews

When I parked in front of Charlie's house, he reached over to take my face in his hands. He handled me very carefully, pressing just the tips of his fingers softly against my temples, my cheekbones, my jawline. Like I was especially breakable. Which was exactly the case
compared with him, at least.
"You should be in a good mood, today of all days," he whispered. His sweet breath fanned across my face.
"And if I don't want to be in a good mood?" I asked, my breathing uneven.
His golden eyes smoldered. "Too bad."
My head was already spinning by the time he leaned closer and pressed his icy lips against mine. As he intended, no doubt, I forgot all about my worries, and concentrated on remembering how to inhale and exhale. — Stephenie Meyer

Then his lips caress mine. It's only a brush, but the warmth overheats every part of me. Leaning back, my elbow bumps into the power button on the dryer and the old appliance starts moving. Spinning. Spinning like my head. Like my heart. — Lauren Hammond

The fan was spinning and as the shadows passed over the white ceiling I let my eyes unfocus until all of it looked like a universe being born or a planet unraveling, some creation or catastrophe depending on which way gravity was going and where you were standing. So instead of Elizabeth Taylor I thought about stars and how little I knew about them, and how if I was an explorer and I had to sail a boat across the ocean without rador or an electronic compass I'd be screwed because the only constellations I knew were the Big Dipper and Little Dipper and I always got them confused. And even though I knew I'd never have to sail that boat I still wished I knew more about stars and other things. And I wished I could remember lying in the back yard as a kid with my hands locked behind my head, looking up at the night sky and dreaming. But I couldn't, because it wasn't something I ever did. It would have been a nice memory though — Paul Neilan