Over The Counter Quotes & Sayings

He grinned at her intently before leaning over the counter and running his thumb along her jaw. It took everything inside of her not to lean into that touch. When he lowered his head and brushed his lips over hers, she made a little sound that caused Graham to growl.
"Later," he whispered as he pulled back. — Carrie Ann Ryan

Maturity
A stationary sense ... as, I suppose,
I shall have, till my single body grows
Inaccurate, tired;
Then I shall start to feel the backward pull
Take over, sickening and masterful
Some say, desired.
And this must be the prime of life ... I blink,
As if at pain; for it is pain, to think
This pantomime
Of compensating act and counter-act,
Defeat and counterfeit, makes up, in fact,
My ablest time. — Philip Larkin

When the armed robber of unhappiness knocks over the Keebler cookie display of our complacency, and bangs the samurai sword of negativity on the checkout counter of our dreams, we must not be afraid to hurl the fruit cocktail can of hope. — Dave Barry

Nate reaches over the counter to the sink, flinging a handful of water at me, and then flipping me off.
'Can we have one finger-free holiday, for Pete's sake?' Mom says.
'I don't know who Pete is, but tell him I don't like him fingering you,' I tease, my eyebrows high as I push backward out of mom's reach. She tries to fling water at me next, but it's too late. So instead, she just flips me off.
'Gosh, Mom. You're such a hypocrite,' I joke. — Ginger Scott

There's an elderly woman fussing with the top of the cream pitcher, trying to get it open. Her purse sits on the counter, but as I approach, she picks up the handbag and anchors it to her side, crossing her arm over the strap.
"Oh, that pitcher can be tricky," I say. "Can I help?"
She thanks me and smiles when I hand her back the cream.
I'm sure she doesn't even realize she moved her purse when I got closer.
But I did. — Jodi Picoult

Clearing his throat, he rumbled, "Miss Darling, a word if you please."
"Sesquipedalian," she said, keeping her back towards him.
The strange response momentarily stunned him. "Pardon?"
Turning around, she leaned against the counter and grinned at him, "You asked for a word and I gave you one. It means 'many syllabled' and while it's exceedingly pretentious it is a lot of fun to say. Sesquipedalian; it tangles up the tongue and then just falls right off.
"Or perhaps you would prefer a different word?" she continued guilelessly and he was completely charmed by her. "Tittle, which is the little dot over i's and j's; or Ornithopter, an aircraft that flies by flapping its wings; Tuatha De Danan Lora or Expector Patronum?"
"Now you're just making words up," he grinned, and realized he had missed talking to her. — A.C. Warneke

We have put over £2bn in the last three years into counter-terrorism and we are developing the electronic border surveillance and identity cards — David Blunkett

This isn't coffee," I accused immediately as the rich smell of chocolate met my nose, making me almost want to groan. Okay, I totally wanted to groan. Just not in front of him. Fine, I absolutely wanted to groan in front of him. But in a private setting with his hands and mouth all over me.

"Figured you needed a pick-me-up."

"You told me you wouldn't give me something like this again. Not even if I begged," I reminded him.

"Well, it's made with water, not full-fat milk and there is only a tiny bit of whipped cream," he said, casual as could be. Which was why I took a sip as he leaned across the counter toward me, not thinking anything of it. Until he went ahead and added in a voice low enough that only the two of us could hear, "And the next time you beg me for something, Maddy, it's gonna be my cock."

I nearly choked to death.

And he just casually walked away, wiping the counter. — Jessica Gadziala

I work at the deli counter. Have to give people their succulent, chemical-ridden salami and whatnot.'

I pictured Miles in a dark room, standing at a butcher's block with a large knife in one hand, a blood cow's leg steadied under the other, a huge Cheshire grin spreading over his face--

'I bet the customers love you,' I said. — Francesca Zappia

My grin tipped up on one side. "I'm sorry. Who asked about the television screens in my truck?"
Her lush lips thinned. "And how long did it take you to pick out the watermelon? Thirty minutes?"
"Twenty-nine," I shot back. "And it's the best fucking watermelon I've ever had. Worth every minute."
A single brow quirked. "You want a medal?"
I leaned over the counter and she met my stare. I wasn't sure what was happening, but it seemed like the air cracked with electricity, heating my skin, quickening my pulse. This couldn't be normal. Maybe I was getting sick. I'd overheated in all of the seventy-eight degrees outside. Yeah, that had to be it.
"I'd love one."
It was so fast, I almost missed it. Her gaze dipped to my mouth before dropping to the island again. "There isn't any more room on your shelf for one more medal."
"I'll just put up another shelf."
"I'm sure you would. — Ashlan Thomas

Yeah. She's still just observing though. She's too useless to even carry plates at the moment, so please just think of her as some Russian ornament."
Tom laughed at the owner's blunt response, and asked another question.
"Chief, how do I say something like, 'you're beautiful', in Russian?"
" ... 'Vi ocharovatelny'."
"Err ... Bee, acherabatennen."
However, hearing this, the Caucasian woman looked confused at Tom, and spoke to the owner behind the counter.
" ... What is this man saying? It is unintelligible. I question its relation to the Japanese language."
With a bitter smile, the owner turned his head towards the woman, and spoke to her.
"'Vi ocharovatelny'."
" ... Why do you suddenly speak these social compliments? Please concisely explain your reasoning."
"That's what that young man over there just tried to say to you."
"In which language, exactly?"
Listening to their conversation, — Ryohgo Narita

Tom laughed at the owner's blunt response, and asked another question.
"Chief, how do I say something like, 'you're beautiful', in Russian?"
" ... 'Vi ocharovatelny'."
"Err ... Bee, acherabatennen."
However, hearing this, the Caucasian woman looked confused at Tom, and spoke to the owner behind the counter.
" ... What is this man saying? It is unintelligible. I question its relation to the Japanese language."
With a bitter smile, the owner turned his head towards the woman, and spoke to her.
"'Vi ocharovatelny'."
" ... Why do you suddenly speak these social compliments? Please concisely explain your reasoning."
"That's what that young man over there just tried to say to you."
"In which language, exactly? — Ryohgo Narita

Nor can private counterparties restrict supplies of gold, another commodity whose derivatives are often traded over-the-counter, where central banks stand ready to lease gold in increasing quantities should the price rise. — Alan Greenspan

woman behind the counter glided over. She looked early-to-mid thirties, casually dressed in well-worn jeans and a tight fitting top, and easy on the eyes. She gave me a warm smile. "Finding everything alright?" "I think — Doug Keeler

There was our old life, in the apartment, in which we had time to finish most of the tasks we started and took long showers and remembered to water our plants. And there was our new life, in the hospital a mile away, in which Shauna needed morphine and two babies needed to eat every three hours around the clock ... I remember thinking, we're going to have to figure out how to combine our old life with our new life ... Over a year later, we still have days of mind-crushing fatigue, midnights when I think I'm pouring milk into a bottle but am actually pouring it all over the counter. Yesterday I spent five minutes trying to remember my parents' zip code. But now there are mornings like this one, when we wake up and realize we've slept through the entire night, and we stroll through the gardens as if we are normal again, as if we are finally learning the syllables of this strange, new language. — Anthony Doerr

time. You can repeat this process as many times as necessary for three or four days, but if the problem persists its time to seek appropriate medical advice. No Drug Pain Relief Obviously you can use over the counter or prescription anti-inflammatory medications for pain relief but you must keep in mind that they could have nasty side effects, including digestive upset. The good — John McArthur

No matter how counter-intuitive it may seem, basic research has proven over and over to be the lifeline of practical advances in medicine. — Arthur Kornberg

All of a sudden, life became too much to bear. Just like that, for no particular reason. Because there was a child's corpse in the fridge on rue Parthenais. Because I had to start all over again from scratch, one more time. Because I had rolled my rock to the top of the hill and now it was rolling back down again. The times before, I'd always managed to put on a brave face. But there comes a time when you just don't feel strong enough to look for another place to live and go shopping again for clothes and dishes and cutlery and scouring pads and toilet paper. This was one of those times. When I got back to the hotel, I asked the Barbie at reception for the key to the minibar. It burned in the palm of my hand. I slapped it back down on the counter and ran out. I had to find a meeting. — Bernard Emond

No attempt of any kind must be made at rescuing members of ships sunk, and this includes picking up persons in the water and putting them in lifeboats, righting capsized lifeboats, and handing over food and water. Rescue runs counter to the most primitive demands of warfare for the destruction of enemy ships and crews. Be hard, remember that the enemy has no regard for women and children when he bombs German cities. — Karl Donitz

Gandhi, Harlem, Christ, Jews in Europe, a black man living over there on Broadway in the Union Theological Seminary in 1930: you never know the connections between things, people, places, ideas. You never know where you'll find them.most people don't know where to find them or even that there's any point to finding them. Who even looks? Who's got time to look? Whose job is it to look? Ours. Historians. It's part of our job. The more you know, the more you read, the better will be your intuition. You can use your intuition as first order Geiger counter of likelihood, of probability and also for starting new lines of enquiry. But whatever you end up doing for a living, wherever you do it, you'll need intuition and curiosity, add much of it as you can muster. Develop these as an athlete develops muscles and impulses. — Elliot Perlman

My main concern was my teeth because they were in constant pain. Meth depletes the body of calcium, the vitamin essential to maintaining healthy teeth. It also includes acidic ingredients that can damage teeth. The ingredients include but are not limited to battery acid: Drano, over-the-counter cold medications like Sudafed, antifreeze, engine starter fluid, and brake fluid. Basically, pop the hood of your car and you can find the ingredients you need to cook meth. I'm no dentist, but I came to the conclusion that was the root of my tooth pain. — S.C. Sterling

There were shoppers everywhere. Counter after counter. Salesgirls, mostly white, with a sprinkling of Japanese as department managers. The din was terrific.

After some confusion Mr. Baynes located the men's clothing department. He stopped at the racks of men's trousers and began to inspect them. Presently a clerk, a young white, came over, greeting him.

Mr. Baynes said, 'I have returned for a pair of dark brown wool slacks which I was looking at yesterday.' Meeting the clerk's gaze he said, 'You're not the man I spoke to. ... — Philip K. Dick

Those prisoners who were eventually liberated and returned to the Soviet Union - well over one and a half million - had to face extensive discrimination following an order issued by Stalin in August 1941 equating surrender with treason. Many of them were despatched to the labour camps of the Gulag after being screened by Soviet military counter-intelligence. Despite attempts after Stalin's death by top military leader Marshal Georgi Zhukov to end discrimination against former prisoners of war, they were not formally rehabilitated until 1994.217 — Richard J. Evans

Our goal is not to assume leadership of existing institutions, but rather to render them irrelevant. We don't want to take over the state or change its policies. We want to render its laws unenforceable. We don't want to take over corporations and make them more 'socially responsible.' We want to build a counter-economy of open-source information, neighborhood garage manufacturing, permaculture, encrypted currency and mutual banks, leaving the corporations to die on the vine along with the state. We do not hope to reform the existing order. We intend to serve as its grave-diggers. — Kevin Carson

Wearing my tee over her shorts, she studied the sink counter. "You smell like chocolate."
I handed her the Axe spray. "It brings all the girls to the yard. — Bijou Hunter

I want you to take a sleeve of Thin Mints and line them up on the edge of the kitchen counter and when I'm hungry I can just bend over and sweep a cookie into my mouth like I'm scoring a goal in hockey. — Jack Gantos

I believe that the most dangerous drugs that there are right now are the drugs that are legal - Over-the-counter medication. I think the entire healthcare system promotes the use of these drugs. — Slaine

The best customers are the ones who just have to buy a record on a Saturday, even if there's nothing they really want; unless they go home clutching a flat, square carrier bag, they feel uncomfortable. You can spot the vinyl addicts because after a while they get fed up with the rack they are flicking through, march over to a completely different section of the shop, pull a sleeve out from the middle somewhere, and come over to the counter; this is because they have been making a list of possible purchases in their head ("If I don't find anything in the next five minutes, that blues compilation I saw half an hour ago will have to do"), and suddenly sicken themselves with the amount of time they have wasted looking for something they don't really want. — Nick Hornby

By the 1920s if you wanted to work behind a lunch counter you needed to know that 'Noah's boy' was a slice of ham (since Ham was one of Noah's sons) and that 'burn one' or 'grease spot' designated a hamburger. 'He'll take a chance' or 'clean the kitchen' meant an order of hash, 'Adam and Eve on a raft' was two poached eggs on toast, 'cats' eyes' was tapioca pudding, 'bird seed' was cereal, 'whistleberries' were baked beans, and 'dough well done with cow to cover' was the somewhat labored way of calling for an order of toast and butter. Food that had been waiting too long was said to be 'growing a beard'. Many of these shorthand terms have since entered the mainstream, notably BLT for a bacon, lettuce, and tomato sandwich, 'over easy' and 'sunny side up' in respect of eggs, and 'hold' as in 'hold the mayo'. — Bill Bryson

Fuck the drug war. Dropping acid was a profound turning point for me, a seminal experience. I make no apologies for it. More people should do acid. It should be sold over the counter. — George Carlin

Although I was deliberately dismissive of this idea at the beginning of the chapter, the real answer is, "Well, yes, sort of." Nathan DeWall, together with Naomi Eisenberger and other social rejection researchers, conducted a series of studies to test out the idea that over-the-counter painkillers would reduce social pain, not just physical pain. In the first study, they looked at two groups of people. Half of them took 1,000 milligrams a day of acetaminophen (that is, Tylenol), and half of them took equivalently sized placebo pills with no active substances in them. Both groups took their pills every day for three weeks. Each night, the participants answered questions by e-mail regarding the amount of social pain they had felt that day. By the ninth day of the study, the Tylenol group was reporting feeling less social pain than the placebo group. — Matthew D. Lieberman

Kate opens a jar of honey and pours a thick line of the sticky stuff over the top edge of the wound. Setting the jar back on the counter, she picks up the first strip of cloth and gently wraps it around his arm. As she works, she can feel his eyes on her, watching her silently. She stands close, and his injured arm is outstretched just enough for his hand to be hanging in the air beside her waist. When she tugs on the bandage to make the first knot, his hand is pulled to her, lightly brushing the side of her body with the tips of his fingers. When she tugs again, he presses his hand to her waist, and she feels the subtle constriction of his fingertips. — Kari Aguila

In terms of what happened over that hiatus that I took, I just rested. I spent that time with my family, during their really formative years, and enjoyed that, and I messed with pills and new medications that help me to deal with dyskinesia and some other things I was struggling with, that I don't have as much now because of medication to counter the side effects. So, it just seemed like the right time to do it. — Michael J. Fox

She heard a crash from the galley as soon as she pulled it open. Peering down the hallway, she saw Wolf hunkered over a counter, holding a tin can.
Stepping into the galley's light, Scarlet saw that the can was labeled with a picture of cartoon-red tomatoes. Judging from the enormous dents in its side, Wolf had been trying to open it with a meat tenderizer.
He glanced up at her, and she was glad that she wasn't the only one red faced. "Why would they put food in here if they were going to make it so hard to open?"
She bit her lip against a weak smile, not sure if it was from pity or amusement. "Did you try a can opener? — Marissa Meyer

Kit burst out laughing. Ty looked even more astonished than he had when Kit had said he'd miss him. But after a second, he started to laugh too. They were both laughing, Kit doubled up over the blankets, when Magnus came into the room. He looked at the two of them and shook his head.

"Bedlam," he said, and went over to the counter where the glass tubes and funnels had been set up. — Cassandra Clare

There was a zone she had not explored. She could use the same counter, the same sort of password that she used with all these people, but she had passed over in the twinkling of an eye into another forest. This forest was reality. There, the very speaking of the words, conjured up answering sigil, house and barn and terrace and castle and river and little plum tree. A whole world was open. She looked in through a wide doorway. — H.D.

On a very hot day in August of 1994, my wife told me she was going down to the Derry Rite Aid to pick up a refill on her sinus medicine prescription - this is stuff you can buy over the counter these days, I believe. I'd finished writing for the day and offered to pick it up for her. She said thanks, but she wanted to get a piece of fish at the supermarket next door anyway; two birds with one stone and all that. She blew a kiss at me off the palm of her and and went out. The next time I saw her, she was on TV. That's how you identify the dead here in Derry - no walking down a subterranean corridor with green tiles on the walls and long fluorescent bars overhead, no naked body rolling out of a chilly drawer on casters; you just go into an office marked PRIVATE and look at a TV screen and say yep or nope. — Stephen King

Churchill admired the division of powers in the American government, but he thought they were copied from much older British practices. In 1950 he said: [T]he division of ruling power has always been for more than 500 years the aim of the British people. The division of power is the keynote of our parliamentary system and of the constitutions we have spread all over the world. The idea of checks and counter checks; the resistance to the theory that one man, or group of men, can by sweeping gestures and decisions reduce all the rest of us to subservience; these have always been the war cries of the British nation and the division of power has always been one of the war cries of the British people. And from here the principle was carried to America. The scheme of the American Constitution was framed to prevent any one man or any one lot, getting arbitrary control of the whole nation. — Larry P Arnn

The way I figured, I was just a kid, and if I could take it apart, they surely could put it back together. Then my mom would walk in the kitchen and see me standing on a chair at the counter, holding a screwdriver with disassembled components all over the place. 'What the heck's going on?' 'I'm intrigued how the blender works. — Tim Dorsey

The truckers are staring," I said after a few seconds.
It was true. They were. The whole row of them was doing a bad job of pretending not to look at us.
"We just got engaged," Lucy shouted over to them. "I just asked this man to be my wife."
The men at the counter traded confused looks. I burst out laughing.
"We're glad you and your ass cracks could share this moment with us," she went on. "Seriously. We really are. Those are serious cracks and this is a serious moment. — Nick Burd

However, FDA attempted to reverse this clear congressional intent in March, 1979, by proposing to regulate vitamins and minerals as 'Over-The-Counter' drugs.. — Orrin Hatch

There is a safe, nontoxic drug called naloxone that can instantly reverse opioid overdose and prevent most of these deaths. But the drug war interferes with saving overdose victims in two ways: first, because witnesses to overdose fear prosecution, they often don't call for help until it's too late. Second, because the drug war supports the belief that making naloxone available over-the-counter or with opioid prescriptions would encourage drug use, the antidote is available only through harm reduction programs like needle exchanges or in some state programs aimed at drug users. — Maia Szalavitz

"Do you have any money?" he asked.
"What?"
He rubbed his fingers together. "Dinero? Cash? Do you have any on you?"
Unsure where this was headed, I shook my head. He reached over the counter and grabbed a knife. He cut the burger in half and slid the plate between us. "Here. Don't bogart the fries."
"Are you serious?"
Noah took another bite of his half. "Yeah. Don't want my tutor to starve to death."
I smacked my lips like a cartoon character and bit into the succulent burger. When the juicy meat touched my tongue, I closed my eyes and moaned.
"I thought girls only looked like that when they orgasmed."
The burger caught in my throat and I choked. Noah stifled a laugh while sliding my water toward me. If only drinking it would erase the annoying blush on my cheeks. — Katie McGarry

Keep looking at me like that,"
he warned, leaning casually into the counter and sipping his coffee.
"see what happens."
"i'm going to lose my job over you."
"i'd give you another one."
i snorted. "as what? your sex slave?"
"what a provocative suggestion. let's discuss. — Sylvia Day

So why aren't more marketing companies targeting our age group? Why are there so many youth-oriented programs and advertisements on television today? Why are we being ignored? Don't companies realize they are missing a huge market?

Now granted, a visit to the local mall will show you there are a lot of teenagers hanging out there these days. But are they shopping? Are they spending money? No. They're "hanging." Contrary to what our skin might be doing, we members of the over-forty crowd don't "hang." We shop, and not just window shop either. We're serious buyers. When we pick up an item and turn it over to see the price, we often carry it right on over to the checkout counter and pay for it. Why? Because we know the energy involved with picking up items. We don't do it unless we're committed. — Martha Bolton

This is the part they don't tell you about in the movies. Or in On the Road. This is not rock 'n' roll.

You are not William Burroughs, and it doesn't make a damn bit of difference if Kurt Cobain was slumped over in an alleyway in Seattle the day Bleach came out. There is no junkie chic. This is not Soho and you are not Sid Vicious. You are not a drugstore cowboy and you are not spotting trains. You are not a part of anything - no underground sect, no counter-culture movement, no music scene, nothing. You have just been released from jail and are walking down Mission Street, alternating between taking a hit off a cigarette and puking, looking for coins on the ground so you can catch a bus as you shit yourself. — Joe Clifford

Judge really underestimated how fucking smart the damn detective was. He had set his own self up, falling for Michaels' charm, his intoxicating eyes and seductive smile as he let himself get swindled in a deal. But Judge never ever went back on his word. Now he was bent over a counter, legs spread and ass open. Judge — A.E. Via

The kiss wasn't just any kiss. No, it was a tricky little bastard, because it started out soft and gentle, but shifted gears in a matter of seconds. The moment her response went from surprise to surrender, the kiss turned hard and hungry, launching us into a frenzy of movement. Her arms were around my neck, my hands were moving all over her body, and somehow, in a span of about five seconds, she climbed up me like a tree, her legs wrapped tightly around my waist.
We spun and bumped into the counter. I reached behind my back with one hand to tighten the cross of her ankles. And then I had her sitting on the edge of the stovetop, my hands exploring the tops of her thighs. I pushed the ruffled skirt hem up and clasped on to her bare, silky skin. Her tongue dove to the back of my throat, sliding over mine like wet, slick velvet.
Holy mother fuck, I couldn't breathe. I was drowning in this girl. — Rachael Wade

I stumble in behind them, almost tripping on my own feet. They both turn to look at me as I grip the edge of the counter to balance myself. Tag raises an eyebrow at me. "Did you even talk to this girl?" "No" "Damn, dude, she's got you tripping all over yourself, and you don't even know what her voice sounds like? I'd hate to see what happens when you actually have a conversation with her." "I don't know who she is. I've never seen her before, but she drives a nice car. I want to know her. — Michelle Dare

London doesn't love the latent or the lurking, has neither time, nor taste, nor sense for anything less discernible than the red flag in front of the steam-roller. It wants cash over the counter and letters ten feet high. — Henry James

Pam went to the refrigerator and started piling some cold cuts and cheese on the table. "Katie, honey, hand me that bread over there," she said, pointing to the counter behind me.
I handed it to her and she smiled.
"Holt, I'm making your father a sandwich. Do you want one?"
"I'm starved," he said.
"You just ate!" I exclaimed.
"You ate all my bacon," he accused.
"I did not!" I laughed, reaching in for a slice of bread and throwing it at him.
He snagged it out of the air and took a huge bite.
Holt's dad grinned. "I like this one, son. Better not let her go."
"I don't plan on it," he said, giving me a meaningful stare.
I felt my cheeks heat and I made myself busy putting together a sandwich for him.
"Katie, make one for you too," Pam said, handing me the mayo.
"Oh, no. That bacon really filled me up." I grinned slyly. — Cambria Hebert

If the Democrats suggested a plan to burn down the Capitol building, the Republicans would counter with a plan to do it over the course of three years. — Douglas Wilson

I was examining the perfumed, coloured candles guaranteed to bring good fortune with continued use when a lovely mocha-skinned girl came in from the back room and stood behind the counter. She wore a white smock over her dress and looked about nineteen or twenty. Her wavy, shoulder-length hair was the colour of polished mahogany. A number of thin, silver hoops jingled on her fine-boned wrist. "May I help you?" she asked. Just beneath her carefully modulated diction lingered the melodic calypso lilt of the Caribbean. — William Hjortsberg

Many different relationships among patients, doctors, and drugs are possible and desirable. As in so many other areas of life, the Internet encourages experimentation. Questionnaire-based pharmacies operate between the traditional prescription and over-the-counter models. — Virginia Postrel

This one, I guess," he says. I look over at the counter, he is looking back at me. He is holding a riding crop: "I'd like to try it out." There is a peculiar shift: from one second to the next I have become disoriented, I am on alien territory, in a foreign century. He walks a few steps to where I am half sitting on the desk, one foot on the floor, the other dangling. He pulls my skirt up my left leg, which is resting on the desk, steps back and strikes me across the inner thigh.
The searing pain is an inextricable part of a wave of excitement; every cell in my body is awash with lust.
It is silent in the small, dusty room. The clerks behind the counter have frozen.
He slowly smooths down my skirt and turns to the older man, who is wearing a suit and still looks like an accountant, though a deep flush is spreading upward from his shirt collar.
"This one will do. — Elizabeth McNeill

I scowled and stabbed begrudginly at the stack before scooping up a bite with my fork, but it toppled over and plopped into my lap. I groaned and banged my head on the counter.
Mom frowned, 'You have to be smarter than the pancakes, Ellie. — Courtney Allison Moulton

Maybe he's just ... craving the meatloaf?"
Dani hops off the counter and gives me the once over. "Craving the meatloaf? Is that what the kids are calling it now? — Sarah Ockler

I confidently walked up to the counter, and his friends moved to the side to let me through. I handed him the note. "Happy Birthday," I said. Then I smiled and walked out of the store. I did my crossing-the street trick again, lurking in the shadows and watching. I could see him turn the note over in his hand, open it and read, then turn it over again. He passed it to his friends, who passed it between them. Then I watched him make a shrugging gesture with his hands. And then they were all laughing again. My mortification was total and overpowering. I was suddenly having a very difficult time standing. I had experienced a perfect note of utter and true clarity. He was straight. — Augusten Burroughs

Miss Taylor says kids that are colored can't go to my school cause they're not smart enough." I come round the counter then. Lift her chin up and smooth back her funny-looking hair. "You think I'm dumb?" "No," she whispers hard, like she means it so much. She look sorry she said it. "What that tell you about Miss Taylor, then?" She blink, like she listening good. "Means Miss Taylor ain't right all the time," I say. She hug me around my neck, say, "You're righter than Miss Taylor." I tear up then. My cup is spilling over. Those is new words to me. — Kathyrn Stockett

I like to stand in my kitchen with the script on a counter that's about chest high. Usually I do something else at the same time - make a chicken or slice vegetables - and all day long I just read it over and over and over. — Christopher Walken

Joe arched an eyebrow at me, leaning against the counter. He crossed his arms over his chest, muscles bulging from the residual pull of the moon. He was beautiful because he was Joe. He was beautiful because he was mine. "Hey, — T.J. Klune

Hamish smiled and rubbed his hands together. "Sure we can. What do you say? Pigs in a Blanket?" He leaned over the cool counter and raised his eyebrows at Gabrielle.
"The only way I'll get under a blanket with you is if both of us are on fire," she told him. — Ally Carter

Oh baby, he whispers. Steps back. Out of the doorway. His face ashen. He walks slowly back to the kitchen. Leans over the counter. Puts his head in his hands. His hair falls over his fingers.
The bathroom door clicks shut.
She stays there for a long time.
He's pulling his hair out. — Lisa McMann

Then, winking at him, I passed my tongue over the top, and all around the ice cream at the rim of the cone, filling my whole mouth and, just to look sexy, also licking the tips of my fingers. Then I came around the counter, swaying my hips real pretty, and steadying myself over the wobbly high heels. I came right up to him, and before he could guess what kind of trouble I had cooked up in my head, I kissed him - so sweet and so long - on his lips, to the shouts and outcries of the offended customer ... — Uvi Poznansky

Dennis faced him. They glared at each other again. Neither said a word until Dennis set the glasses down, leaned back against the counter, and folded his arms over his chest. "You're an idiot." "Seems to be a common conclusion. You're not my favourite person right now either. — Sloan Parker

Pablo Neruda's poems tramped through the mud [with the fieldworker] ... knocked at the doors of mansions ... sat at the table of the baker ... The shopkeeper leaned over his counter and read them to his customers and said "Do you know him? He is my brother."
The poems became books that people passed from hand to hand. The books traveled over fences ... and bridges ... and across borders ... soaring from continent to continent ... until he had passed thousands of gifts through a hole in the fence to a multitude of people in every corner of the world. — Pam Munoz Ryan

He dropped my fingers and planted his palms on the counter, one on either side of me. He kept them close enough that his arms were brushing my ribs as he hovered over me. His blue eyes locked on mine, the serious gaze deepening. I want to know if you want to. Will you go to the movies with me? — C.L.Stone

The store was filled with hollow-eyed people standing in line: at the sandwich counter, at the soda fountain, at the register. All of them waiting, waiting, their hands full of candy, chips, cups of coffee, money. It was like purgatory, with snacks. Not just the customers; the employees, too. They worked the registers, squirted ketchup on hot dogs, piled limp lettuce onto flaccid lunch meat and waited for it to be over, waited until they could go home. — Kelly Braffet

We have the opportunity to provide the first FDA reviewed and approved over-the-counter option that can help people lose weight and make changes to their lifestyle and diet. — Steve Burton

Now he must deal with the security system, which has recorded everything that he's done. A video camera is mounted over the front door and focused on the cashiers' counter. Edgler Foreman Vess has no desire to see himself on television news. Living with intensity is virtually impossible when one is in prison. — Dean Koontz

An old woman with a mutch sat in an arm-chair behind the counter. She looked up at me over her spectacles and smiled, and I took to her on the instant. She had the kind of old wise face that God loves. — John Buchan

Freedom is nothing but a vain phantom when one class of men can starve another with impunity. Equality is nothing but a vain phantom when the rich, through monopoly, exercise the right of life or death over their like. The republic is nothing but a vain phantom when the counter-revolution can operate every day through the price of commodities, which three quarters of all citizens cannot afford without shedding tears. — Jacques Roux

The children are in love but do not know with what. They talk in gibberish, muse themselves into an indefinable pallor, and when they are completely at a loss they invent a language that maddens them. My fish. My hook. My fox. My snare. My fire. You my water. You my current. My earth. You my if. And you my but. Either. Or. My everything ... my everything ... They push one another, go for each other with their fists and scuffle over a counter-word that doesn't exist. — Ingeborg Bachmann

Estimates suggest that from 20 to 50 million Americans routinely, albeit illegally, smoke marijuana without the benefit of direct medical supervision. Yet, despite this long history of use and the extraordinarily high numbers of social smokers, there are simply no credible reports to suggest that consuming marijuana has caused a single death. By contrast, aspirin, a commonly used, over-the-counter medicine, causes hundreds of deaths each year. — Frances M. Young

She sighed. "I don't know, Father, how do you get over someone who's held your heart in their hands for so long? And what do you do when they constantly turn your love away, leaving you battered and bruised?" A sob broke free from her throat to pierce the darkness.
His arm stiffened, paralyzed over her shoulder.
Marcy's voice rose, quiet and strong, to counter her daughter's pain. "You run to the arms of the Almighty, Lizzie. 'Because thou hast been my help, therefore in the shadow of thy wings will I rejoice.' That's the only place our hearts are safe, the only place they can heal. — Julie Lessman

Dad, I need to talk to you about something."
He peeked over his shoulder. "I thought you'd already googled all that period and birds-and-bees stuff."
"Dad ... "
He turned around, suddenly concerned. "Are you pregnant? Are you gay? I'd rather you were gay than pregnant. Unless you're pregnant. Then we'll deal. Whatever it is, we'll deal. Are you pregnant?"
"No," Cath said.
"Okay ... " He leaned back against the sink and began tapping wet fingers against the counter.
"I'm not gay either."
"What does that leave?"
"Um ... school, I guess."
"You're having problems in school? I don't believe that. Are you sure you're not pregnant? — Rainbow Rowell

She hit the button again, holding her breath this time until she heard it.
Soft, sibilant, as insubstantial as the breaths that came before: Shannon. The voice whispered Shannon.
The blood rushed out of her head. Her heart knocked hard in her chest. Her knees buckled and she grabbed the counter to keep from falling. She was starting to hyperventilate, had to calm it down before she was taken by a full-blown panic attack.
Paper bag. Think. Think! Drawer below the silverware, next to the sink. Over the nose and mouth. Breathe slowly, slowly.
Holding the bag against her face, Shane slid to the floor with her back against the cabinets, legs splayed, lungs heaving.
It couldn't be him. It couldn't be Jordan. Jordan was dead. — Jane Taylor Starwood

He was dead again when I got home that day. His corpse was in the kitchen, near the counter, where it appeared he'd been chopping vegetables when the urge to stab himself through the wrist had struck. I slipped on the blood coming in, which annoyed me because that meant it was all over the kitchen floor. — N.K. Jemisin

Neither of us ever threw anything away. We made
a lot of mix tapes while we were together. Tapes for making out, tapes for dancing, tapes for falling asleep. Tapes for doing the dishes, for walking
the dog. I kept them all. I have them piled up on my bookshelves, spilling out of my kitchen cabinets, scattered all over the bedroom floor. I don't
even have pots or pans in my kitchen, just that old boom-box on the counter, next to the sink. So many tapes. — Rob Sheffield

I WILL NOT TRUST IN RICHES Wealth has some pretty powerful side effects. If wealth were an over-the-counter medicine, there would be bold warnings printed on the packaging. Warning: May cause arrogance. While taking this medicine, extra precaution should be taken not to offend people. If taken for prolonged periods, may impair perception, causing hope to migrate. If you saw a commercial for wealth on TV, it would show pictures of happy people holding hands in the park. Meanwhile, the announcer would be listing all the ways it can ruin your kidneys, rot your stomach, cause sudden heart failure, and destroy your life. — Andy Stanley

So, what happened to your face?"
Sara grabbed Miki by her T-shirt and jeans before she could dive over the counter at the Asian girl they called Kelly.
Angelina leaned forward as Sara pulled Miki back to her, "You know what they say about curiosity? That it stabbed the annoying biker girl over and over and over again until she spit up blood."
Oh, yeah. That was subtle. — Shelly Laurenston

He rips open the package and pulls out the thread. It's the same snowy white as his wings. He holds the thread and hair together and twirls them with his thumb and forefinger so that the two strands intertwine. Holding the ends together, he steps over to the sword that lies on the counter and wraps the strand around the sword's grip. "Stop complaining," he says to the sword. "It's for luck. — Susan Ee

Words are too awful an instrument for good and evil to be trifled with: they hold above all other external powers a dominion over thoughts. If words be not (recurring to a metaphor before used) an incarnation of the thought but only a clothing for it, then surely will they prove an ill gift; such a one as those poisoned vestments, read of in the stories of superstitious times, which had power to consume and to alienate from his right mind the victim who put them on. Language, if it do not uphold, and feed, and leave in quiet, like the power of gravitation or the air we breathe, is a counter-spirit, unremittingly and noiselessly at work to derange, to subvert, to lay waste, to vitiate, and to dissolve. — William Wordsworth

Xhex couldn't stop herself from torturing them both. She sent him a mental scene, drilling the image right into his head : the two of them in a private bathroom, him up on the sink and leaning back, her with one foot planted on the counter, his sex deep in hers, the two of them panting. While he stared accross the crowded room, John's mouth parted, and the flush on his cheeks had nothing to do with embarrassment and everything to do with the orgasm that was no doubt pounding up his shaft. God, she wanted him. His buddy, the readhead, snapped her out of the madness. Blaylock came back to the table with three beers hanging from their necks, and as he took a look at John's hard, sexep-up face, he stopped short and glanced over at her in surprise.
Shit.
Xhex waved off the bouncers who were coming up to her and walked out of the VIP section so fast, she nearly bowling-pinned a waitress. Her office was the only place that was safe, and she headed there at a dead run. — J.R. Ward

Serving others also requires a talent for observation," Hawke murmurs in my ear. "She'll approach the table to her right next, ask the woman in the red shirt if she'd like her bill." My mom does exactly that, her lips moving as she gathers the dirty dishes. The customer nods and pulls her wallet out of her no-name vinyl purse. "How did you know she'd do that?" I ask. "I look for threats. You look for fashions." He splays his fingers over me, his grip thrillingly secure. "Your mom looks for needs her customers might have." "Everyone sees what they want to see," I conclude. "The average person sees very little." Hawke pushes me toward the counter. "Very few of us pay attention. — Cynthia Sax

The world was full of dangers now that she was pregnant: mercury in tuna, hot tubs, beer, secondhand smoke, over-the-counter medicine. Not to mention crazy baby-abducting fairy kings. — Jennifer McMahon

Percy wakes me (fourteen)

Percy wakes me and I am not ready.
He has slept all night under the covers.
Now he's eager for action: a walk, then breakfast.
So I hasten up. He is sitting on the kitchen counter
Where he is not supposed to be.
How wonderful you are, I say. How clever, if you
Needed me,
To wake me.
He thought he would a lecture and deeply
His eyes begin to shine.
He tumbles onto the couch for more compliments.
He squirms and squeals: he has done something
That he needed
And now he hears that it is okay.
I scratch his ears. I turn him over
And touch him everywhere. He is
Wild with the okayness of it. Then we walk, then
He has breakfast, and he is happy.
This is a poem about Percy.
This is a poem about more than Percy.
Think about it. — Mary Oliver

Jesus Christ!" A man could only take so much. She yelped as he snatched her up around the waist and sat her on the counter. "Sit there and don't move. Don't bat your eyes. Don't lick your lips. Don't get on your knees. And for God's sake, don't bend over." He snatched the mixer off the floor. "Where the hell do you want it? — Alannah Lynne

My activities, for which I gratefully accept this Award, are today what they have been for over thirty-five years and will be for the rest of my life: to counter governmental secrecy about the nuclear arms race that threatens the survival of life on earth; and to help build a world movement that will prevent a first use since Nagasaki of nuclear explosions, prevent or end interventions that could lead to such an event, and bring about a world free of nuclear weapons. — Daniel Ellsberg

He updated his report, doing his best to tune out the two men who staggered into the police station, dragging each other.
"I want you to arrest this idiot bastard," the taller one shouted, face contorted with rage. "He shit on my front porch!"
Your dog shits all over my yard every day," the other one countered shoving.
Calm down, please," Leila said when they reached reception.
The tall one thumped a fist on the counter. "I want to make a police report. I stepped in that shit!"
Chase checked out the floor behind them, the questionable footprints. Made a mental note to walk around them when he left. — Dana Marton

A dying man asked a dying man for eternal life; a man without possessions asked a poor man for a Kingdom; a thief at the door of death asked to die like a thief and steal Paradise. One would have thought a saint would have been the first soul purchased over the counter of Calvary by the red coins of Redemption, but in the Divine plan it was a thief who was the escort of the King of kings into Paradise. If Our Lord had come merely as a teacher, the thief would never have asked for forgiveness. But since the thief's request touched the reason of His coming to earth, namely, to save souls, the thief heard the immediate answer:
'I promise thee, this day thou shalt be
With Me in Paradise'
(Luke 23:43)
It was the thief's last prayer, perhaps even his first. He knocked once, sought once, asked once, dared everything, and found everything. When even the disciples were doubting and only one was present at the Cross, the thief owned and acknowledged Him as Saviour. — Fulton J. Sheen

I HAVE ANNA all to myself for seven days. Seven days of living by what I start to call the holy trinity of "S" sex, sleep, and sustenance. It's all we really need. My bed is base camp, though we've made forays onto the couch, the kitchen counter, and that one time on my weight bench, though I can't recall how we even got there. I can, however, recall with perfect clarity the way Anna came, how her inner walls clutched me as she cried out. Which makes me horny all over again as I hobble out to the kitchen for more sustenance. — Kristen Callihan

When I got home, a spicy scent lured me into the kitchen. My stomach grumbled and I might've started drooling the moment I spotted the cheesy enchiladas cooling on the counter.
They were drenched in homemade queso.
My favorite.
Dropping my bag on the floor, I skipped over to where Rosa was placing the plates on the table. I wrapped my arms around her from behind and squeezed.
Rosa laughed as she turned. "It's the queso, isn't it?"
Nodding, I dropped my arms and stepped back. — Jennifer L. Armentrout

the French First Army near Speyer and Strasbourg. The preparations were pitifully inadequate and the losses heavy, but the objective, which was political and not military, was gained. This was to establish a French "presence" over the Rhine inside Germany, as a bargaining counter for the post-war period. Important though this was for France, it was a minor matter compared to forestalling the Soviet on the Baltic at the gateway to Scandinavia, the ultimate objective of 21st Army Group's stage-managed crossing and the only one with a vital political aim as the prize. It was also the most critical as regards the time factor. Eisenhower was unique in his insistence on "broad front" policies of advance. The Russians were not sweeping into Europe on a broad front, with all the armies keeping step; instead, they were making their main drive for the politically most vital objectives - Berlin and the gateways — Alexander McKee

Josie watched him leave then turned to me. "I swear to God, if I had the money, you'd be the one making cookies while he slobbers all over you." "You're the one who said he was harmless." I reached under the counter to get a box ready for Ellen's order. — Catherine Bruns

Oh, my god!" I said, throwing my hands over my eyes and hurtling my body against the counter.
"What?"
"You're naked."
"I'm not naked."
"I'm blind."
"You're not blind. I'm wearing pants."
"Oh." That was embarrassing. — Darynda Jones

Is the English press honest or dishonest? At normal times it is deeply dishonest. All the papers that matter live off their advertisements, and the advertisers exercise an indirect censorship over news. Yet I do not suppose there is one paper in England that can be straightforwardly bribed with hard cash. In the France of the Third Republic all but a very few of the newspapers could notoriously be bought over the counter like so many pounds of cheese. — George Orwell

Claire scraped her chair back, walked over to the cordless phone lying on the counter, and dialed from the business card still stuck to the refrigerator with a magnet. Four rings, and a cheerful voice answered on the other end and announced she'd reached Common Grounds. "Hi,'" Claire said. "Can I talk to Sam, please?'"
"Sam? Hold on.'" The phone clattered, and Claire could hear the buzz of activity in the background - milk being steamed, people chatting, the usual excitement of a busy coffee shop. She waited, jittering one leg impatiently, until the voice came back on the line. "Sorry,'" it said. "He's not here tonight. I think he went to the party.'"
"The party?'"
"You know, the zombie frat party? Epsilon Epsilon Kappa? The Dead Girls' Dance?'"
"Thanks,'" Claire said. She hung up and turned to face Michael and Eve, who were staring at her in outright surprise. She held up the phone. "The power of technology. Embrace it. — Rachel Caine

How is it that mercury is not safe for food additives and Over the Counter drug products, but it is safe in our vaccines and dental amalgams? — Dan Burton

How did you meet him?" I asked her.
She smiled. "Here, actually. During a dinner rush. He was sitting at the counter and Isabel knocked a cup of coffee in his lap."
"Ouch," I said.
"No kidding. She was so slammed she just kept moving, so I cleaned it up and made all the apologies. He said it was okay,, no problem, and I laughed and said pretty girls get away with anything." She looked down, twisting her ring a bit so the diamond sat in the centre of her finger, "And he smiled, and looked at Isabel, and said she wasn't his type."
There was a faint cheer from the stadium, and I saw a ball whiz over the far fence and out of sight.
"And so," she went on, "I said, "Oh really? What is your type, exactly?" and he looked up at me and said, "You. — Sarah Dessen