My Veins Quotes & Sayings
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His kiss sent sensation from the tip of my tongue all the way to my knees, and I let my weight fall against him as I met his probing tongue with my own. I wanted to be closer, to absorb all of him, to experience the shimmery feeling flowing through my veins for as long as possible. — Mia Sheridan

I needed to channel the darkness that ran through my veins and embrace it. To play this game better than this man ever could have predicted. After all, I'd only been with him twice, and already I could see his weakness.
His weakness was me. — A. Zavarelli

Blood fills my mouth. Fire sears my veins. I choke back a howl. The silver knife slips
the
choice is mine.
I am death or life. I am salvation or destruction. Angel or demon.
I am grace.
I plunge in the knife.
This is my sacrifice
I am the monster. — Bree Despain

I don't wear mini-skirts or shorts because I have thread veins on my legs and cellulite, and I won't wear tights. — Marie Helvin

I believe the best reviews are any of those wherein readers share their true opinion, no matter how many stars they rate my work. When I receive responses from appreciative people thanking for useful and amusing reading, it feels like my wings stretch up and blood carries the highest happiness circulating in my veins. I think many writers will understand what I mean by that. — Sahara Sanders

I was born in Naples but my mother is from Rome , therefore some water from the Tiber river runs for sure in my veins. — Augusto De Luca

I wanted to tell you that I couldn't stop thinking about your face. That you had burrowed your way so deep into my veins that I would fucking bleed you. That if I died tomorrow, I could go a happy man for having felt your lips on my skin. — A Meredith Walters

The symptoms I thought were caused by asthma were really caused by my heart not being able to expel blood with sufficient force and then expand quickly enough to receive the next load of blood returning through the veins. This caused back pressure in the pulmonary veins and fluid would leak through their walls and accumulate in my lungs and abdomen. — Ray Reynolds

I know what it's like to be manipulated, Aya-la. And I know what it's like to be in danger. While your city was building you mansions to live in, my friends and I have been protecting this planet. We've spilled more blood than you have flowing in your veins. So don't try to make me feel guilty!
-Tally Youngblood, Extras — Scott Westerfeld

I take a faltering step towards him, my blood pounding, my veins charged with pent-up energy begging me to run. I lace my hands around his neck and place my ear over his chest, listening to his heart. I trust him, he just needs to calm down. He's stiff at first. He sighs and his whole body deflates, melting against mine. The steady thuds in my ears slow down and he hugs me back, his mouth leaving a trail of sweet kisses on my head as his fingers softly scratch my scalp. — Tammy Faith

She was breathing hard, and deep circles of red burned high on her bright cheeks; in all my life I had never seen anyone so maddeningly beautiful as she was at that moment. I stood blinking stupidly at her, the blood pounding in my veins, and my carefully rehearsed plans for a goodbye kiss forgotten, when unexpectedly she flew up and threw her arms around me. Her hoarse breath was loud in my ear and her cheek was like ice when she put it against mine a moment later; when I took her gloved hand, I felt the quick pulse of her slender wrist beneath my thumbs. — Donna Tartt

Blood is pounding in my ears. Lingering smoke and tequila fill my nostrils as adrenaline courses through my veins. My lips curl into a smile. The only thing that would make this night more perfect is if I had killed some zombies. — Annie Walls

His teeth gently nick at my skin and it stings a little, but feels amazingly good at the same time; like some kind of euphoric venom dancing threw my veins. — Jessica Sorensen

I gaze out, to the stars. I remember the first time I saw real stars, through the hatch window. They were beautiful then, but now, seeing them here, all around me, beautiful feels like an inadequate word. I see the stars as a part of the universe, and having spent my life behind walls, suddenly having none fills me with both awe and terror. Emotion courses through my veins, choking me. I feel so insignificant, a tiny speck surrounded by a million stars.
A million suns.
Centuries away is Sol. Circling around it is Sol-Earth, the planet Amy came from. And one of these other stars is the Centauri binary system, where the new planet spins, waiting for us.
And here we are, in the middle, surrounded by a sea of stars.
Any of them could hold a planet. Any of them could hold a home.
But all of them are out of reach. — Beth Revis

For me, acting is like a therapy. I can express myself fully when I am acting and have blood in my veins. Even when I'm not working, I'm always living in my own world, imagining characters. — Eva Green

He pulls free before we make contact. "A moment, please. Allow me to bask in your devotion." He's referring to my ankle tattoo.
I blush. "I've told you a hundred times. It's only a set of wings."
"Nonsense." Morpheus grins. "I know a moth when I see one."
I groan in frustration, and he surrenders, letting me press our markings together. A spark rushes between them, expanding to a firestorm through my veins. His gaze locks on mine, and the bottomless depths flicker - like black clouds alive with lightning. For that instant, I'm bared to the bone. He looks inside my heart; I look inside his. And the similarities there terrify me. — A.G. Howard

What we take for granted can destroy us. Regret becomes a living thing, digging into your skin, seeping into your veins, until it invades your lungs, cutting off your air supply. It has the power to bring you to your knees and make you beg for death. I beg for release from my existence every second of the day. — Alaska Angelini

Many years later after the sell-outs, betrayals, and hatred which would tear us apart, when our brotherhood had been destroyed, I'd always look back and remember that night. That fucking wild night at the KeyClub, when the smoke stung my eyes but my world was full of nothing but blind hope. When life was not a mockery, but a very real fire which flamed through my veins like the most incredible drug... the night when Kelly-Lee Obann, drunk, high and barely 20 the time, looked out through his hair with a terrible nakedness and said to me;
"We're not gonna make it out of this alive. You know that, right? — H. Alazhar

I will never leave you for I am intertwined in the fabric of you're being and my life blood's essence pulsates through your'e veins. — Truth Devour

The warmth and the passion in my veins are more than enough for a hundred thirsty girls. — M.F. Moonzajer

Everything freezes. The blood stops flowing in my veins. My breath stops coming. For a second even the music falls aways and all I hear is something steady and quiet and pretty, like the distant beat of a drum, and I think, i'm hearing my heart, except I know that's impossible, because my heart has stopped too. — Lauren Oliver

I had never been more alone than I was in my admiration for the real killer's work. The very body parts seemed to sing to me, a rhapsody of bloodless wonder that lightened my heart and filled my veins with an intoxicating sense of awe. — Dexter Morgan

We share the same water in our veins, air in our lungs, the same dust in our bones. We are two petals on the same flower of life, my friend. — Cristen Rodgers

Like a sea-beast fished up from the depths, or a diver too suddenly hoisted, my veins threatened to burst from the fall in pressure. I had great anxiety and no means of relieving it ... And then it was that the Muse of Painting came to my rescue - out of charity and out of chivalry ... - and said, "Are these toys any good to you? They amuse some people." — Winston Churchill

I lie sleepless long after Melkin takes the first watch and press my fingers to my lips as I remember Logan leaning in, his breath fanning my face, his eyes locked on my mouth. A delicious ache pulses through me. I feel like a stranger waking up in my own skin
aware of every inch. Heat runs through my veins, both exhilarating and terrifying. — C.J. Redwine

On April 2, the nurses started my first round of five intravenous immunoglobulin (IVIG) infusions. The clear IV bags hung on a metal pole above my head, their liquid trickling down into my vein. Each of those ordinary-looking bags contained the healthy antibodies of over a thousand blood donors and cost upwards of $20,000 per infusion. One thousand tourniquets, one thousand nurses, one thousand veins, one thousand blood-sugar regulating cookies, all just to help one patient. — Susannah Cahalan

I've got icewater in my veins and I hope you freeze on the first bite. Come on, you busher! Batter-fucking-up! — Stephen King

Do you remember what I said that first night we moved into our new house? What you asked me to say as my vows? It still stands Tru, it will always stand. My love for you is limitless, it knows no bounds. You're in my veins. I bleed you. I belong to you...I always have and I always will. You will always be my June, Tru. — Samantha Towle

When Death hath poured oblivion through my veins,
And brought me home, as all are brought, to lie
In that vast house, common to serfs and Thanes,
I shall not die, I shall not utterly die,
For beauty born of beauty
that remains. — Madison Cawein

My father is the harbinger of death and destruction. My grandmother the Great Destroyer. My mother is the goddess of the hunt. I think I'll be okay. (Kat)
Yeah, you do have the history of absolute terror and cruelty in your veins. (Sin)
Remember that if you ever come between me and my chocolate bar. (Kat) — Sherrilyn Kenyon

The rain is coming.
little sister, the night broke. the thunder cracked my brain finally. the rain is coming, i promise you. i didn't mean to but your tears will bring life back. purple flowers grow, the colour blood looks in the veins. they'll sprout out of my chest. i promise you they'll crack the ground, grow over the freeways, down the slopes to the sea. i'll be in their faces. i'll be in the waves, coming down from the sky. i'll be inside the one who holds you.
and then i won't be. — Francesca Lia Block

In isolation I ruthlessly plow the deep silences, seeking my opportunities like a miner seeking veins of treasures. In what shallow glimmering space shall I find what glimmering glory? — Jamaica Kincaid

The tub must be very heavy. His biceps strain against his sleeves, like he's Bruce Banner mid-Hulkifying, and the veins stand out on his neck. The water smells faintly of rose petals. He uses a lemonade pitcher decorated with smiley-faced suns as a ladle, and I lean my head back for him. He starts to work in the shampoo, and I push his hands away. This part I can do myself. — Rick Yancey

Music is my life. Music runs through my veins. Music inspires me. Music is a part of me. Music is all around us. Music soothes me. Music gives me hope when I lose faith. Music comforts me. Music is my refuge. — Demi Lovato

You never cared that I was your sister before."
"Didn't I?" His black eyes flicked up and down her. "Our father's dead," he said. "There are no other relatives. You and I, we are the last. The last of the Morgensterns. You are the only one left whose blood runs in my veins, too. You are my last chance. — Cassandra Clare

I lie awake in my bed, clinging to the brightness I have known, fighting back the tide of darkness, the memories of blood and branding and horror, and the legacy of cruelty that runs in my own veins, shaping my own secret vow and wielding it like a brand against the darkness, whispering it to myself, over and over.
I will try to be good. — Jacqueline Carey

The attentions of Wilkie Mackenzie were a conquest, an aspiration, a dream. The fresh memory of all those women, batting their eyelashes coquettishly, it boiled in my veins. One in particular. And Wilkie looked almost amused, now that his own jealousy had eased. "Are you jealous, my love? — Juliette Miller

My dear girl,' I answered in high spirits, for I felt elated at being active again. 'You are about to witness the birth of an immortal literary masterpiece. In a few moments, I shall begin the composition of an eloquent letter. This letter is going to be received by everyone in the Reich who has a Polish name. Or at least that is what shall try to accomplish. We want to remidn everyone of Polish origin that, although they are nominally German, Polish blood continues to flow in their veins.'
Danuta interrupted my oratory.
'Calm down, Witold. Don't excite yourself so. If you raise your voice much louder you shan't have to send any letters. Everybody in the Third Reich will have heard you, including the Gestapo. — Jan Karski

I left them to it, the pointing of fingers on maps, the tracing of mountain villages, the tracks and contours on maps of larger scale, and basked for the one evening allowed to me in the casual, happy atmosphere of the taverna where we dined. I enjoyed poking my finger in a pan and choosing my own piece of lamb. I liked the chatter and the laughter from neighbouring tables. The gay intensity of talk - none of which I could understand, naturally - reminded me of left-bank Paris. A man from one table would suddenly rise to his feet and stroll over to another, discussion would follow, argument at heat perhaps swiftly dissolving into laughter. This, I thought to myself, has been happening through the centuries under this same sky, in the warm air with a bite to it, the sap drink pungent as the sap running through the veins of these Greeks, witty and cynical as Aristophanes himself, in the shadow, unmoved, inviolate, of Athene's Parthenon. ("The Chamois") — Daphne Du Maurier

I suppose I'm still walking that line between life and death, trying to choose which side I'm on."
"I want you on my side, healer," Jenna said.
"And ... I want to be," he said. "It's just ... " He searched her face. "How do you ever really know a person?"
Jenna ran her fingertips over the back of his hand, tracing the veins. "Not everything is a lie, Wolf," she said. "Sometimes you have to believe what you see. — Cinda Williams Chima

I am the vampire at my own veins. — Charles Baudelaire

Others, I am not the first,
Have willed more mischief than they durst:
If in the breathless night I too
Shiver now, 'tis nothing new.
More than I, if truth were told,
Have stood and sweated hot and cold,
And through their veins in ice and fire
Fear contended with desire.
Agued once like me were they,
But I like them shall win my way
Lastly to the bed of mould
Where there's neither heat nor cold.
But from my grave across my brow
Plays no wind of healing now,
And fire and ice within me fight
Beneath the suffocating night. — A.E. Housman

I felt a strange sensation inside. Like the past coming to life. The watery stirring of a previous life turning in my belly, creating a tide that rose in my veins and sent cool wavelets to lap at my temples. The ghastly excitement of it. — Diane Setterfield

I opened my veins. Unstoppably life spurts out with no remedy. Now I set out bowls and plates. Every bowl will be shallow. Every plate will be small. And overflowing their rims, into the black earth, to nourish the rushes unstoppably without cure, gushes poetry ... — Marina Tsvetaeva

Branches etched a network of veins across the starry night sky. My own veins were exposed and raw from my attraction to Ella - attraction, hell. More like obsession. — Laura Marie Altom

My veins are filled, once a week with a Neapolitan carpet cleaner distilled from the Adriatic and I am as bald as an egg. However I still get around and am mean to cats. — John Cheever

The writers who get my personal award are the ones who show exceptional promise of looking at their lives in this world as candidly and searchingly and feelingly as they know how and then of telling the rest of us what they have found there most worth finding. We need the eyes of writers like that to see through. We need the blood of writers like that in our veins. — Frederick Buechner

Before my mother's tremulous anxiety I recover my composure. Now I can walk about and talk and answer questions without fear of having suddenly to lean against the wall because the world turns soft as rubber and my veins become brimstone. — Erich Maria Remarque

I got ice in my veins
Blood in my eyes/Hate in my heart
Love in my mind — Lil' Wayne

As i thought about all that surgar running through her veins, i imagined it as a kind of liquid candy. But when i asked her if it tasted sweet, she laughed quietly and said no. It stung, she said. But she needed it. She had to have it. All i could imagine was that candied water burning inside my mother. Like an invisible fire that i could not see or taste or touch or stop. — Christine Walde

I knew too where Voldemort was weak. And so I made my decision. You would be protected by an ancient magic of which he knows, which he despises, and which he has always, therefore, underestimated - to his cost. I am speaking, of course, of the fact that your mother died to save you. She gave you a lingering protection he never expected, a protection that flows in your veins to this day. I put my trust, therefore, in your mother's blood. — J.K. Rowling

His lips thinned in frustration like I should already know the answer. He inched closer until his knee touched mine, his eyes, curious and intense, boring into me. "Because you move like fire rushing across a floor," he said his voice hushed, velvety smooth, "like flames licking up a wall." The rest of the world crumbled away as he lifted my chin. "Your energy is liquid and hot. Even from a distance you burn, you scorch anyone who gets too close. You are wine on my tongue and honey in my veins, and I cannot get enough of you." He leaned forward and whispered into my ear. His warm breath sent shivers cascading over my body. "You intoxicate me, Lorelei McAlister. You will be my downfall. — Darynda Jones

You break me, wife," he said, his voice hoarse and low as he turned back to her. His eyes shimmered beneath narrowed brows. "You know what it means? It means I want you, as I want water when my lips thirst. As I want food when I have hunger. But this need, this need I have for you- it breaks me. It takes the breath from my chest. It drains the blood from my veins and the spirit from my soul. I cannot be, unless I can be here with you, like this. With our flesh touching and your heart beating here against mine. I cannot be, not without you. — E.B. Brown

You dance the troika in the opening of my veins and I only protest with a murmur. — Malak El Halabi

The patriot blood of my father was warm in my veins. — Clara Barton

My art is grounded in the belief of one universal energy which runs through everything: from insect to man, from man to spectre, from spectre to plant from plant to galaxy. My works are the irrigation veins of this universal fluid. Through them ascend the ancestral sap, the original beliefs, the primordial accumulations, the unconscious thoughts that animate the world — Ana Mendieta

It was the truest thing I knew, like the way the sun knew to rise in the morning, the way a rosebud knew to blossom in the spring. He was in my veins, in the innermost recesses of my heart and soul. I'd love him until I died - through death, even. Through fire, through hell. I'd love him through eternity. — Laurelin Paige

Once again that mixture of fear and desire surges through my veins, the same kind of fire I imagine injected heroin must feel like - an agony so sweet you'd do anything for it. — Lilah Pace

I beheld before me an animated Corse. Her countenance was long and haggard; Her cheeks and lips were bloodless; The paleness of death was spread over her features, and her eye-balls fixed stedfastly upon me were lustreless and hollow.
I gazed upon the Spectre with horror too great to be described. My blood was frozen in my veins. I would have called for aid, but the sound expired, ere it could pass my lips. My nerves were bound up in impotence, and I remained in the same attitude inanimate as a Statue.
The visionary Nun looked upon me for some minutes in silence: There was something petrifying in her regard. At length in a low sepulchral voice She pronounced the following words.
Raymond! Raymond! Thou art mine!
Raymond! Raymond! I am thine!
In thy veins while blood shall roll,
I am thine!
Thou art mine!
Mine thy body! Mine thy soul!
— Matthew Gregory Lewis

Like rain drops dripping on the floor like a thousand drumists beating those drums repeatedly,
My blood runs through my veins ninety nine point nine metres per second when i think of you. — Nomthandazo Tsembeni

I don't understand hate. I've seen its power. I've known its wrath. I've even felt it coursing through my veins, pushing me on. But I don't know where it comes from or why it lasts, how it can take hold in some people and grow. — Ally Carter

It was you," I say softly. "It's always you I think about."
The intensity in his gaze took my breath away. I could feel him. Every part of him. His soul was sewn to mine. His heated blood flowed through my veins. I'd thought that I had been close to my mother, and I was, but not like this. Chase and I barely touched- our hands, mouths, knees- but there was no part of me that was not his. — Kristen Simmons

Veins practically popping out of his neck, the jerk leaned out his window and yelled a bunch of swear words, including a new one I tucked away in my brain for future use, if necessary. — James Patterson

I recall the scent of some kind of toilet powder - I believe she stole it from her mother's Spanish maid - a sweetish, lowly, musky perfume. It mingled with her own biscuity odor, and my senses were suddenly filled to the brim; a sudden commotion in a nearby bush prevented them from overflowing - and as we drew away from each other, and with aching veins attended to what was probably a prowling cat, there came from the
house her mother's voice calling her, with a rising frantic note - and Dr. Cooper ponderously limped out into the garden. But that mimosa grove - the haze of stars, the tingle, the flame, the honey-dew, and the ache remained with me, and that little girl with her seaside limbs and ardent tongue haunted me ever since - until at last, twenty-four years later, I broke her spell by incarnating her in another. — Vladimir Nabokov

I'd looked around my room at the ribbons and sashes and rosettes hanging from the walls, at the photos of my ponies clearing the highest fences with me crouched in the saddle, a look of utter determination on my face. I'd made myself look hard at the pictures, at my legs swinging backwards over the fences, at my body lying low over my pony's neck, my hands grasping at the reins as I turned them in mid-air. At the way that Teddy's eyes were bulging as I pulled him around a tight turn, at the way the veins popped out on Buck's lathered neck, at Springbok's open mouth, dripping with foam.
I'd looked hard at them all, and I hadn't liked what I'd seen. — Kate Lattey

By now I had drawn up as much magic as I could possibly hold, but I was afraid to start sending big bolts of it into the fray. The last thing I wanted was to hit Archer, who, I was beginning to realize, had definitely held back in Defense. I'd never seen anyone move like he did, his movements fast and sure. Too bad they weren't doing any good.
Finally,one of the ghouls got a grasp on his hair, and he winced as the thing jerked his head back. I think I might have cried out, but it was hard to hear anything between my heartbeat and the whirring of magic in my veins.
"Could we start with the necromancing now?" Archer shouted at me. — Rachel Hawkins

I stood with my hands on the horses' necks, feeling the electricity of their thinking, the blood moving throughout their veins, and the history held neatly within the fabric of every organ of their equine anatomy, as if the body were a storage unit of memory. As I absorbed every nuance of the four-legged creatures, I touched my own stomach, lower back, liver, and spleen to see what the energies felt like. I compared one horse to another, then to myself, fascinated by the way each was so unique yet so the same. — Bethanne Elion

Ingrid's skin was the smoothest texture, so pale that it was transparent. I could see the blue veins that ran down her arms, and they made her seem fragile somehow. the way Eric Daniels, my first boyfriend, seemed fragile when I laid my head on his chest and heart his heart beating and thought, Oh. People don't always remember about the blood and the heartbeat. But whenever I looked at Ingrid, I was reminded of the things that kept her alive. — Nina LaCour

The skyline is etched in my veins. You can never put that out, no matter how hard it rains. — Macklemore

My son, you are now flesh of our flesh and bone of our bone. By the ceremony performed this day, every drop of white blood was washed from your veins; you were taken into the Shawnee Nation ... — Chief Blackfish

Like forearm veins, my interests spread in different directions and eventually led to the hands, to writing. — Cameron Conaway

I sit at my desk
each night with no place to go,
opening the wrinkled maps of Milwaukee and Buffalo,
the whole U.S.,
its cemeteries, its arbitrary time zones,
through routes like small veins, capitals like small stones. — Anne Sexton

Love Came ...
and became like blood in my body.
It rushed through my veins and
encircled my Heart.
Everywhere I looked,
I saw One Thing ...
Love's Name written
on my limbs,
on my left palm,
on my forehead,
on the back of my neck,
on my right big toe ...
Oh, my friend,
all that you see of me
is just a shell,
and the rest belongs to Love. — Rumi

He drove into me hard, slipping into my slick tunnel with ease. "Who are you to me?"
My blood stirred in my veins from me just hearing the question. "You're queen. — Kenya Wright

Ember pressed close, brushing my shoulder with hers, and my pulse spiked. I looked over, saw the fierce determination in her gaze and felt a defiant growl rumble in my throat as a hot, vicious rage spread through my veins. Ember was mine. The other half of me. And i would fight Talon, St. George and the entire damned world to keep her safe — Julie Kagawa

Can't tell if I've got rivers or veins running under my skin, flowing out over the plains. — Mariee Sioux

Veins raised themselves along the backs of my hands that summer. My handwriting changed several times. I began reading Time magazine. Soon after that it was time to go. — Lorene Cary

No warm blood in me doth glow
Water in my veins doth flow
Yet I'll laugh and sing and play
By frosty night and frosty day
Little daughter of the snow
But whenever I do know
That you love me little, then
I shall melt away again
Back into the sky I'll go
Little daughter of the snow — Eowyn Ivey

When I think of you my heart beats fast, the blood burns in my veins and I can hardly breathe. — Alexandre Dumas

Anand, look at the back of my hands. No hair. The sign of an advanced race, boy. And look at yours. No hair either. But you never know. With some of your mother's bad blood flowing in your veins you could wake up one morning and find yourself hairy like a monkey — V.S. Naipaul

How can you think that? Don't you see it, Ro? The blood that runs through my veins, the air that fills my lungs, it belongs to you. It's only ever be you for me. — Shey Stahl

Jeb's eyes look like they might pop ... so do the veins in his neck. He makes a sound - somewhere between a cough and a moan - mesmerized by my rocking hips. He stands. "Would you get down? You're going to hurt yourself."
"No. Come up here with me." I raised my arms over my head and roll my pelvis seductively. "It's a wake-up dance for Skittles. You know, like the Native Americans used to do to bring down rain."
Jeb gawks. "I seriously doubt Native Americans moved like that." — A.G. Howard

I follow his stare at the speckles of stars. Suddenly I wonder, "Aren't you guys supposed to, like, sparkle or something?" And immediately wish I hadn't. Frederik stands up so quickly that he doesn't disturb the sand. He grabs the front of my shirt and growls--his eyes are black as the night sky along the horizon, and red veins fray against the white of his eyes. His sharp canines are exposed. "I.Don't.Sparkle." He lets go of me and becomes regular bored Frederik again, no fangs, no bloodshot eyes. Just a dude sitting on the beach at night. — Zoraida Cordova

And would I be able to forgive him or myself if it crossed the mark? I loved this man and all of his flaws. I knew that he wasn't perfect. He was human, and had secrets that would make stronger women than me flee. But that was the beauty of love. It made us stronger. It gave us hearts of steel and guts of iron. I had a shield around me that could withstand a war for this man. I had a passion that could overcome mountains. My love for Xavier burned in my soul and ran through my veins, and I was willing to take this chance. I needed to show him that I could be there for him. — J.S. Cooper

Everything about it and the fierce old coast around it, had the ring and taste and feel of utter rightness to me. Its peace and loneliness crept into my veins and ran there, its wildness called out to the deep buried wildness in my heart. — Anne Rivers Siddons

Boonie wondered with sadness, Why don't I have any real memories like that of this elder statesman who happens to live in our house from time to time? This handsome, formal man whose blood runs mysteriously in my own veins? He was always more like a king than a father. — Suzanne Stroh

I turned away from him, the hot blood still coursing through my veins. I gripped the door handle, and it molded like dough into the form of my hand. Not even caring, I wrenched the handle free from the door without turning it. It cracked loose of the solid oak door, sending splinters showering to the floor. My hand tossed the now crumpled piece of metal behind me with unexpected force. It zoomed across the room and embedded itself into the wood paneling with the end my hand had crushed sticking out to see. — Michael Corso

Injected, the drug that was Hop coursed through my veins. I had it back in a way I couldn't believe I'd ever managed to live without it. — Kristen Ashley

Tatiana hooked an IV to Alexander's vein herself and fed him morphine and fed him plasma. And when that wasn't enough, she gave Alexander her blood. And when that wasn't enough, and it looked as if nothing was going to be enough, she trickled blood from her arteries into his veins.
Drop by drop.
And as she sat by him, she whispered. All I want is for my spirit to be heard through your pain. I sit here with you, pouring my love into you, drop by drop, hoping you'll hear me, hoping you'll lift your head to me and smile again. — Paullina Simons

I have Russian, German, Spanish, Italian, French and Ethiopian blood in my veins. — Peter Ustinov

And I'm all, "Do you want to get coffee? I have a bag of blood and ten thousand dollars in my messenger." The nosferatu can totally drink lattes as long as they put some blood in it, unless they're lactose intolerant. And he stops and looks at me. He's like, "Really, ten thousand? Think that will be enough?" And I'm like, "Well, you'll have to drink the cheap stuff, but I like to drink my lattes directly out of the veins of a toddler, and those little fuckers aren't cheap. — Christopher Moore

As we walked toward the dean's office, he reached over, trailing his fingers along my arm. "Do they still react when I touch you?"
Heat crawled through my veins, and I nodded. The marks had followed the path of his touch. "Yeah, they still like you."
One side of his lips curled up, and a look of male pride crossed his face. I shook my head. Boys. — Jennifer L. Armentrout

Let it come, let it come The time that we will love. So patient have I been That I've forgetten everything: Fear and suffering Have departed for the heavens, And an unholy thirst Darkens my veins. Let it come, let it come The time that we will love. Like the field Left to forgetfulness, Growing and flowering With incense and weeds, And the fierce buzzing Of dirty flies. Let it come, let it come The time that we will love. I loved the desert, burnt orchards, musty shops, tepid drinks. I dragged myself through stinking alleys, and with eyes closed I offered myself to the sun, the god of fire. — Arthur Rimbaud

Fool! Nothing but black ink runs through my veins! — Hiromu Arakawa

All the colors
Of the rainbow
Hidden 'neath my skin
Hearts have colors
Don't we all know?
Red runs through our veins
Feel the fire burning up
Inspire me with blood
Of blue and green
I have hope
Inside is not a heart
But a kaleidoscope — Sara Bareilles

My wretched feet, flayed and swollen to lameness by the sharp air of January, began to heal and subside under the gentler breathings of April; the nights and mornings no longer by their Canadian temperature froze the very blood in our veins; we could now endure the play-hour passed in the garden. — Charlotte Bronte