Pack Back Quotes & Sayings

Where's Ben?" she asked after another painful swallow. The angle of the light in the room signaled morning. She'd survived the first horrible night of the illness. That was something for which to be grateful. "He didn't want to go. But your mama kicked him out yesterday." Phoebe bounded to the hearth fire and removed another pot of steaming water she had dangling from a gridiron that belonged to the kitchen. Susanna fought a wave of dizziness and frustration. "But don't you worry none." Phoebe returned to the bedside with the steaming pot, the scent of sassafras and rum drifting under the canopy of her bed. "It's gonna take a pack of wolves to keep that man from coming back to see you. — Jody Hedlund

There are those amongst us who have erred, deeply and significantly. Who have wounded the world and broken themselves. The worst of them lose themselves in their errors. The best of them crawl back, one foot at a time, and seek to amend their breaches. That is the way of the brave.
-Gabriel Keene, Pack Apex, pp. 37 — Chloe Neill

To carry care to bed is to sleep with a pack on your back. — Thomas Chandler Haliburton

No. Before you say it, I'm not going back outside. I've gone through nearly half a pack of smokes since I've been out there leaving you two to talk. I don't think you're very good for my health. - Evo — L.J. Sealey

Each kid got a small allowance for helping with the harvests, and Kiernan would always head straight to the tobacco shop. Not for cigarettes. At first, he even threw the cigarettes away, but later he'd save them and sell them to the older kids to get enough money for another pack.
Kiernan didn't want the smokes. He wanted the baseball cards.
When we got back to the Farm, Kiernan would sketch out a baseball diamond in the dirt and we'd stage games with the players from the cards he collected. — Rysa Walker

Attention spans are changing. It's very noticeable. I am very aware that the kind of books I read in my childhood kids now won't be able to read. I was reading Kipling and PG Wodehouse and Shakespeare at the age of 11. The kind of description and detail I read I would not put in my books. I don't know how much you can fight that because you want children to read. So I pack in excitement and plot and illustrations and have a cliffhanger every chapter. Charles Dickens was doing cliffhangers way back when. But even with all the excitement you have to make children care about the characters. — Cressida Cowell

But my brain winds and wends. Back and forth. Up and down. It feels like the county fair has inhabited my mind
complete with sketchy rides, carnies, and sugar-amped kids crying over lost balloons. So loud and disorienting. I want it to pack up and move on to the next town. I want my mind to be an open grassy field again with crickets and dandelions. — Laura Munson

You're trying to make me crazy, aren't you?"
"Not at all." Sara put her bowl down. "I'm just saying there could be bunny shifters."
"THERE ARE NO BUNNY SHIFTERS!"
Shaking her head she accused, "You're a bunny bigot."
Zach threw his spoon back in the near-empty bowl. "And there is no such thing as bunny bigots."
"Bunny bigot," she accused again. — Shelly Laurenston

Harry has kissed Craig so many times, but this is different from all of the kisses that have come before. At first there were the excited dating kisses, the kisses used to punctuate their liking of each other, the kisses that were both proof and engine of their desire. Then the more serious kisses, the it's-getting-serious kisses, followed by the relationship kisses - that variety pack, sometimes intense, sometimes resigned, sometimes playful, sometimes confused. Kisses that led to making out and kisses that led to saying goodbye. Kisses to mark territory, kisses meant only for private, kisses that lasted hours and kisses that were gone before they'd arrived. Kisses that said, I know you. Kisses that pleaded, Come back to me. Kisses that knew they weren't working. Or at least Harry's kisses knew they weren't working. Craig's kisses still believed. So the kissing had to stop. — David Levithan

The long distance hiker, a breed set apart,
From the likes of the usual pack.
He'll shoulder his gear, be hittin' the trail;
Long gone, long 'fore he'll be back. — M.J. Eberhart

Miki held up a tennis ball, looked at Sara's new Pack, and tossed it out into the forest away from the ongoing rave. They all watched it go, then they turned back to Miki.
"Okay. Go ... "
Sara and Angelina slapped their hands over their friend's mouth before the word "fetch" could come out of it.
They pulled her over to one of the food tables.
"Are you out of your ever-loving mind?! Everyone here but us is like Sara." Angelina snapped.
"And after seeing them in action I'd rather not fuck with them!"
Miki gave that innocent smile. "It was just a little experiment. — Shelly Laurenston

Once you go pack, you never go back. — Kimberly Sabatini

Alex propped himself against the metal railing where Willow had just stood. "Okay, let's get something straight," he said in Spanish."If you think I don't know you're after my girfriend, you're crazy. And if you try to put any sleazy moves on her while you're here, you're going to regret it." Seb's knapsack was at his feet. He took out a pack of cigarettes; tapped out the last one and lit it.Settling back against the door jamb, he gave Alex a considering, faintly humorous look. "Sleazy moves?" he repeated. "Don't worry, I don't do sleazy moves."
"Let me rephrase," said Alex coldly "Any moves, just keep your hands off her. — L.A. Weatherly

Listen! Before you can fully understand the notes, dear boy, you must first understand the space you will place them in. Space can be seen as the birthplace of all things. That is why all things are eventually attracted back to it ... Your understanding of this will allow you to pack your Music with an immeasurable amount of power, the power to change the world and the power for the world to change you. But remember, you are responsible. — Victor L. Wooten

The head of the sledgehammer was cold, icy cold, and it touched his forehead as gently as a kiss.
'Pock! There,' said Czernobog. 'Is done.' There was a smile on his face that Shadow had never seen before, an easy, comfortable smile, like sunshine on a summer's day. The old man walked over to the case, and he put the hammer away, and closed the bag, and pushed it back under the sideboard.
'Czernobog?' asked Shadow. Then, 'Are you Czernobog?'
'Yes. For today,' said the old man. 'By tomorrow, it will all be Bielebog. But today, is still Czernobog.'
'Then why? Why didn't you kill me when you could?'
The old man took out an unfiltered cigarette from a pack in his pocket. He took a large box of matches from the mantelpiece and lit the cigarette with a match. He seemed deep in thought. 'Because,' said the old man, after some time, 'there is blood. But there is also gratitude. And it has been a long, long winter. — Neil Gaiman

I'll pack these for you," Hermione said brightly, taking Harry's presents out of his arms as the three of them headed back upstairs. "I'm nearly done, I'm just waiting for the rest of your underpants to come out of the wash, Ron--"
Ron's splutter was interrupted by the opening of a door on the first-floor landing. — J.K. Rowling

Lord Blackshire is my daughter's Protector and that will not change, even if you recommend or even command otherwise. If I find you are hindering him or Jaron in their duties in the least degree, I will pack the lot of you up, put you on the slowest carriage back to Mur Eldaloth that I can find, and pray for snow! I rule in Rhugoth, not the Church. The next time we talk, I suggest you address me with a great deal more respect than you have done this morning." They were shocked. Athan's pale face bloomed red. "Now," Mirelle said as she stood, voice calm, even flippant, "enjoy your wine. Ethris will be with you shortly. — Brian Fuller

Everyday on the bike is a different day. Just when you think your on top, you find yourself towards the back of the pack. It is probably the hardest sport I ever done it continues to be challenging and different. — Robin Farina

... one, two, three, four, six, Good Lord, eight? Eight packs? Furthermore, had I actually been feeling said person's eight pack? And, dear God, I was counting. I had touched each muscle. And great, my hand was still firmly placed against the guy's stomach.
I jerked my hand back and closed my eyes.
"Were you just counting my abs?" His voice sounded amused. It also sounded like a movie star voice, the type that makes you want to jump into the TV screen. — Rachel Van Dyken

I'll be fine." She felt terrified, but she wasn't about to admit it. She drew her dagger Katoptris and tried to look confident. "Anyone gets close, I'll skewer them." Jason hesitated. "I'll leave you the pack. If I'm not back in five minutes - " "Panic?" she suggested. He managed a smile. "Glad you're back to normal. The makeup and the dress were a lot more intimidating than the dagger." "Get going, Sparky, before I skewer you." "Sparky?" Even offended, Jason looked hot. It wasn't fair. Then he made his way to the stairs and disappeared into the dark. — Rick Riordan

From their midst a broad-shouldered man stepped forth, past Longwick, who tried vainly to motion him back. He ran three strides toward me, and I took a deep, unbelieving breath of his scent just before he enfolded me in a bear hug. Despite the pain to my shoulder, I didn't struggle. I dropped my head on his shoulder, and let him support me, feeling safer than I had in years. Suddenly, it seemed as if everything would be all right, as if everything could be mended. Heart of the Pack was here and he never let us come to harm. — Robin Hobb

The freckle-faced corporal from Iowa grinned. "Geez, Major, whatever you gave that German broad last night sure got her talking. Was it some new Russian drug? Something from HQ?"

"That's my affair." Major Rosemary Wilson ignored the grinning boy and lit a cigarette, blowing out smoke as she gazed through the one way mirror. The German girl, Waller, looked pale and lost under the interrogation lights, but she was still exceptionally pretty. No doubt last night had been her first time with a woman. Still, Greta had been an enthusiastic learner, responsive and eager to please. The Major had every intention of continuing the girl's education -- once Werewolf and his Nazi pack were back behind bars. — Joseph Heywood

His Majesty needs a can-I girl anyway. And I'm not it."
"A can-I girl?" Andrea frowned.
I leaned back. "'Can I fetch your food, Your Majesty? Can I tell you how strong and mighty you are, Your Majesty? Can I pick your fleas, Your Majesty? Can I kiss your ass, Your Majesty? Can I ... "
It dawned on me that Raphael was sitting very still. Frozen, like a statue, his gaze fixed on the point above my head. "He's standing behind me, isn't he?"
Andrea nodded slowly.
"Technically it should be 'may I'," Curran said, his voice deeper than I remembered. "Since you're asking for permission."
Why me?
"To answer your question, yes, you may kiss my ass. Normally I prefer maintain my personal space, but you're a Friend of the Pack and your services have proven useful once or twice. I strive to accommodate the wishes of persons friendly to my people. My only question is, would kissing my ass be obeisance, grooming, or foreplay? — Ilona Andrews

Alyce," she breathed. Alyce sounded clean and smart. You could love someone maned Alyce. She looked back at the face in the water. "This is me, Alyce." It was right. So the newly called Alyce shifted the pack on her shoulders, and with her head back and bare feet solid on the ground, she headed back to the midwife's cottage and never noticed when it grew dark, for heat and light were within her. — Karen Cushman

What happens is just this: Queen Bella packs most of her wardrobe (11 pages) and travels to Guilder (2 pages). In Guilder she unpacks (5 pages), then tenders the invitation to Princess Noreena (1 page). Princess Noreena accepts (1 page). Then Princess Noreena packs all her clothes and hats (23 pages) and, together, the Princess and the Queen travel back to Florin for the annual celebration of the founding of Florin City (1 page). They reach King Lotharon's castle, where Princess Noreena is shown her quarters (1/2 page) and unpacks all the same clothes and hats we've just seen her pack one and a half pages before (12 pages). — William Goldman

The three wolves looked tentatively at Decebel.
"Oh, for crying out loud, Dec. Tell them you won't beat them if they play cards with the two humans." Jen glared at him. Decebel had not taken his eyes off of Jen since she had declared she wanted to get her game on. Finally he relented and turned to his pack mates, who all cringed under his scrutiny.
"No touching," he said, as he sat back rigidly, angled so he could watch every move of the game.
Loftis, Quinn (2011-11-18). Blood Rites: Book 2 Grey Wolves Series (The Grey Wolves Series) (p. 225). Kindle Edition. — Quinn Loftis

If the clouds split open and an archangel descended onto the street in all of his heavenly glory and tried to make Rogan see reason, he would fail miserably and have to pack up his flaming sword and go back to Heaven in shame. — Ilona Andrews

You could stand to work on your manners there, Sunshine."
"That's not my name." She kept walking.
He glared at the back of her pack. "How about sweetheart, then?"
"How about you kiss my ass? — Dee Tenorio

All bags are pack ready to go
i am standing here outside your door
i hate to wake you up to say goodbye
dawn is braking its early morn
the taxi waiting he blowing his horn
already i am so lonesome i could die
so kiss me and smile for me tell me that you'll wait for me and hold me like you never let me go
cause leaving on a jet plane don't know when ill be back again oh babe i hate to go
there so many let you down so many time i played around i tell you know that don't mean a thing every plase i go i'll think of you every song i sing i'll sing for you. — John Denver

When you're in the back of the pack, you can gamble a little bit more. — Michael Andretti

Summer 2010 Marley raced into the beach hut, cheeks flushed, sand clinging to his bare feet. 'We need to make a flag pole for the sand fortress,' he told me breathlessly, salt-mussed hair wild around his face. I rummaged at the back of a cupboard, pulling out a pack of wooden skewers that we used for toasting marshmallows. 'Would one of these — Lucy Clarke

The more successful the unit, the more difficult it is to make sure that the large company doesn't put the same expectations on it as it does for the rest of the company. When it's a new venture, whether it's outside or inside the business, it's a child. And you don't put a 40-pound pack on a 6-year-old's back when you take her hiking. — Peter Drucker

A great deal of my battle, as an actor, is to whittle away the things that make me self-conscious and try to trick myself into not being self-conscious. So, it's always a challenge, whether I'm lying in a hospital bed or flying around with a rocket pack on my back, or what have you. On the best of days, it's a challenge for me. — Billy Campbell

Settled for a blooming redhead from Waco, Takes-us, name of Molly Bea Archer, carefully cut her out of the pack and trundled her, tipsy and willing, back to the Busted Flush. — John D. MacDonald

We don't want your kind in this city.
Take your pack of animals and go back to where you came from.
Mark my words
if you open this club, it will be the last thing you ever do.
Blood will run. — Sara Humphreys

Looks like Faye's doing a little extracurricular activity," a voice behind her murmured, and Cassie turned gratefully. Nick nodded at the guy who was occupying the seat there, and the guy scrambled up and left. Cassie hardly noticed the occurrence, it was so common. The kids from Crowhaven Road indicated what they wanted, and the outsiders gave it to them. Always. It was the way things worked.
Nick sat in the vacated chair and took out a pack of cigarettes. He opened it,
shook one forward. Then he noticed Cassie.
Cassie was staring at him with her eyebrows lifted, her best Diana expression on. Disapproval radiating from her like heat waves.
"Ah," Nick said. He glanced at the cigarettes, then at her again. He tapped the protruding cigarette back into place and tucked the pack in his pocket.
"Bad habit," he said. — L.J.Smith

Female say Pack Leader stop," Pack Leader said angrily.
"What?" Caine could make no sense of it till he saw Diana striding up, dark hair flying, eyes furious.
"I told this filthy beast to stop," Diana said, barely controlled.
"Stop what?" Caine demanded.
"They're still attacking the kids," Diana said. "We've won. Sam is dead. Call them off, Caine."
Caine turned his attention back to the battle between Drake and the monster. "They're coyotes," Caine said coldly.
Diana flew at him. "You've lost your mind, Caine. This has to stop. You've won. This has to stop."
"Or what, Diana? Or what?" Caine demanded. "Go get Lana. I'm hurt. Pack Leader, do what you want."
"Maybe this is why your mother abandoned you," Diana said savagely. "Maybe she could see that you weren't just bad, you were twisted and sick and evil. — Michael Grant

What, you didn't pack your lunch?" Ty asked sarcastically as he
shifted around in the seat and wedged himself against the door. He kicked a
foot up and propped it on the console between the two front seats.
"Sure, in my SpongeBob SquarePants lunch box. I have the thermos,
too," Morrison shot right back.
Zane kept his mouth shut, eyes moving between the two men, and
occasionally back to the driver, who was casually paying attention.
Ty stared at the kid and narrowed his eyes further. "Spongewhat?" he
asked flatly.
Zane didn't even try to hold back the chuckle when Morrison looked
at Ty like he'd lost his mind.
"Spongewha ... you're yanking my chain, aren't you?" Morrison
said. "Henny, he's yanking my chain."
"Yeah, well, that's what you getting for waving it in his face," the
driver answered reasonably.
"What the hell is a SpongeBob?" Ty asked Zane quietly in the
backseat. — Madeleine Urban

Back in the Rat Pack days, we'd take Frank's plane and sit dead center, because of Nancy. We'd watch the Rat Pack in the center ring and you couldn't ask for a better thing. — James Darren

Rachael stared back at Olivia, discomfort shifting in her bones. The alpha's eyes raked over her, until Rachael realized she was staring at her shirt. Namely, that it was obviously Aaron's.

Shit.

"Lovely outfit," said Olivia with too much calm. "I've wondered why I never see you outside."

Now was the time for a perfect snarky comeback. But while Rachael was far better at those than she had been in high school, at the moment she drew a blank.

Instead she glanced at Aaron and said, "You pay her rent?"

"It seemed the thing to do, although I am seriously reconsidering it," muttered Aaron. — Deidre Huesmann

Any blisters on your shoulder blades would weep painfully, as the weight of the pack went back on. Then somehow your mind would shut out the pain, for a while. Until, by the end of the march, your shoulders would start to wilt and cramp up as if they were on fire. — Bear Grylls

I go back to Oberlin in the dead of winter to give a "convocation speech" in Finney Chapel, the largest and most historic of campus structures. In a subconscious nod to my college experience I forget to pack both tights and underwear and have to spend the weekend going commando in a wool skirt and knee socks. I am toured around the school like a stranger by a girl who didn't even go here. We stop at a glossy new cafe for tea and scones. She asks if I want a tour of the dormitories- no, I just want to wander around alone and maybe cry. — Lena Dunham

Just because you eat doesn't mean you eat smart. It's hard to beat a $1.99 wing pack of three at a fast-food restaurant - it's so cheap - but that wing pack isn't feeding anyone, it's just pushing hunger back an hour. — Mario Batali

What about the Pack?" His upper lip trembled, betraying the edge of his teeth. "Fuck the Pack. I gave them fifteen years of my life. I fought for them, bled for them, and the moment my back was turned, they attacked my wife. I owe them nothing." Curran reached over and covered my fingers with his hand. "I'm serious. Say the word right now and we're gone. — Ilona Andrews

Drinking's funny. When I look back on it, all of our important decisions have been figured out when we were drinking. Even when we talked about having to cut back on drinking, we'd be sitting at the kitchen table or out at the picnic table with a six-pack or whiskey. — Raymond Carver

But take heart: For every phalanx of nerds who die there are always a few who succeed. Not long after that horrific murder, a whole pack of revolutionary nerds ran aground on a sandbar on the southeast coast of Cuba. Yes, it was Fidel and Revolutionary Crew, back for a rematch against Batista. Of the eight-two revolutionaries who splashed ashore, only twenty-two survived to celebrate the New Year, including one book-loving argentino. A bloodbath, with Batista's forces executing even those who surrendered. But these twenty-two, it would prove, were enough. — Junot Diaz

We who are dominant tend to think of that aspect of being a werewolf as rank: who is obeyed, who is to obey. Dominant and submissive. But it is also who is to protect and who is to be protected. A submissive wolf is not incapable of protecting himself: he can fight, he can kill as readily as any other. But a submissive doesn't feel the need to fight
not the way a dominant does. They are a treasure in a pack. A source of purpose and of balance. Why does a dominant exist? To protect those beneath him, but protecting a submissive is far more rewarding because a submissive will never wait until you are wounded or your back is turned to see if you are truly dominant to him. Submissive wolves can be trusted. And they unite the pack with the goal of keeping them safe and cared for. — Patricia Briggs

And now if they should break or you should fall, you might faint for a year or two. If that happens, your local system takes over: that's the pack on your back. — Cordwainer Smith

I bunched the squirrel-fur hat up under my head and left the pack for Mal to use as a pillow. Then I pulled my coat close around me and huddled beneath the new furs. I was nodding off when I heard Mal return and settle himself beside me, his back pressed comfortably against mine. As I drifted into sleep, I felt like I could still taste the sugar from that sweet roll on my tongue, feel the pleasure of laughter gusting through me. We'd been robbed. We'd almost been killed. We were being hunted by the most powerful man in Ravka. But we were friends again, and sleep came more easily than it had in a long time. At some point during the night, I woke to Mal's snoring. I jabbed him in the back with my elbow. He rolled onto his side, muttered something in his sleep, and threw his arm over me. A minute later he started snoring again, but this time I didn't wake him. — Leigh Bardugo

Who was born in a house full of pain.
Who was trained not to spit in the fan.
Who was told what to do by the man.
Who was broken by trained personnel.
Who was fitted with collar and chain.
Who was given a pat on the back.
Who was breaking away from the pack.
Who was only a stranger at home.
Who was ground down in the end.
Who was found dead on the phone.
Who was dragged down by the stone.

[song "Dogs", finale...] — Pink Floyd

Listen to me and listen to me good," she ground out. "You are an asshole. You don't tell me what to do, ever. The day you control my life, well, that day is when hell freezes over. I'm not some weak little wife type, asshole, and I don't need a man to control me or tell me what to do. If you ever try to pull this shit again I'll show you weak when they have to surgically remove my shoe from your ass. When you walk in the door of my house after you find a way back there, you have five minutes to pack up your things and get the hell out or you'll need that surgery. I want you to get on a plane, take your miserable, bitchy little bald ass out of my life, and don't ever come near me again. Do you hear me? — Laurann Dohner

Like how could you do nothing,
and say, 'I'm doing my best.'
How could you take almost everything,
and then come back for the rest?
How could you beg me to stay,
reach out your hands and plead,
and then pack up your eyes and run away
as soon as I agreed? — Ani DiFranco

I stood for a while the way I had the first time they left, letting all the knots of fear unclench. Nothing had happened, I told myself. I am perfectly okay. He was just a creepy, horny, not-nice man, and now he's gone. But then I shoved my tent back into my pack, turned off my stove, dumped the almost-boiling water out into the grass, and swished the pot in the pond so it cooled. I took a swig of my iodine water and crammed my water bottle and my damp T-shirt, bra, and shorts back into my pack. I lifted Monster, buckled it on, stepped onto the trail, and started walking northward in the fading light. I walked and I walked, my mind shifting into a primal gear that was void of anything but forward motion, and I walked until walking became unbearable, until I believed I couldn't walk even one more step. And then I ran. — Cheryl Strayed

My fingers slid along the bottom of the door jamb until I felt the rubber door stopper wedged in place. A similar rubber triangle sealed the door leading back into the house. From experience, I knew the little stoppers would hold in place where a deadbolt might fail. They'd saved my rear before and I was always careful to pack them for the next use. — William Allen

There, then, is the role of the amateur: to look the world back to grace. There, too, is the necessity of his work: His tribe must be in short supply; his job has gone begging. The world looks as if it has been left in the custody of a pack of trolls. Indeed, the whole distinction between art and trash, between food and garbage, depends on the presence or absence of the loving eye. Turn a statue over to a boor, and his boredom will break it to bits - witness the ruined monuments of antiquity. On the other hand, turn a shack over to a lover; for all its poverty, its lights and shadows warm a little and its numbed surfaces prickle with feeling. — Robert Farrar Capon

I got a pole and fishing line from under my bed. I came back out of the bedroom and called to Myra, asking her if she could pack me up a lunch because I was going fishing. And I guess you know what she told me. So I left. There weren't many people on the street that late at night, almost nine o'clock, but practically everybody that was up asked me if I was going fishing. I said, why, no, I wasn't, and where did they ever get an idea like that? "Well, how come you're carryin' a fish pole and line, then?" this one fella said. "How come you're doin' that if you ain't goin' fishin'." "Oh, I got that to scratch my butt with," I said. "Just in case I'm up a tree somewheres, an' I can't reach myself from the ground." "But, looky here now - " He hesitated, frowning. "That don't make no sense. — Jim Thompson

Pack is for comfort when you hurt, I thought, putting my head back down. And for the first time in a long time, maybe the first time ever, I appreciated being a part of one. — Patricia Briggs

In theory, sure, Gregor could still go home. Pack up his three-year-old sister, Boots, get his mom out of the hospital, where she was recovering from the plague, and have his bat, Ares, fly them back up to the laudry room of their appartment building in New York City. Ares, his bond, who saved his life numerous times and who had had nothing but suffering since he had met Gregor. He tried to imagine the parting. "Well, Ares, it's been great. I'm heading home now. I know by leaving I'm completely dooming to annihilation everbody who's helped me down here, but I'm really not up for this whole war thing anymore. So, fly you high, you know?" Like that would ever happen. — Suzanne Collins

With a slow smile, she brought her gaze back to Kyle's as she reached behind and unhooked her bra.
"Need some help with that?" he asked.
"I have had plenty of practice."
"Yeah, well, I could do with the extra practice. Takes way too long to get those things off. — J.A. Belfield

Tell me you'll come back for the pack. For me." His eyes were bright with tears. "I don't want to lose you. — Andrea Cremer

So she looked upon the wolves, who were dwindling in number, and back at the humans who no longer cared for their own, and combined their spirits. She took the loyal, protective, possessive natures of the wolf and took the intelligence, emotions, and love of the human and brought them together. She designed us to be a pack. — Quinn Loftis

What he did instead was clean his shelter. He had been sleeping on the foam pad that had come with the survival pack and he straightened everything up and hung his bag out in the sun to air-dry and then used the hatchet to cut the ends of new evergreen boughs and laid them like a carpet in the shelter. As soon as he brought the boughs inside and the heat from the fire warmed them they gave off the most wonderful smell, filled the whole shelter with the odor of spring, and he brought the bag back inside and spread the pad and bag and felt as if he were in a new home. The berries boiled first and he added snow water to them and kept them boiling until he had a kind of mush in the pan. By that time the meat had cooked and he set it off to the side and tasted the berry — Gary Paulsen

Despite all the commotion, and to Calla's surprise, Guthrie kissed her. His lips were warm and masculine and tasted like wassail. Cinnamon, apple cider, and oranges. She licked his mouth to enjoy more of the taste and he licked hers back, smiling. then he deepened the kiss.
Oh my God! She hadn't felt this naughty in forever! The men were going to move the tree soon, and here she and Guthrie would be. Kissing. In front of several members of his pack. She pushed her arms through the branches, trying to wrap them around his neck. She tangled her tongue with his, his cock hardening against her belly, and she felt deliciously wicked hidden beneath the half-decorated tree. — Terry Spear

And then there was his love affair with my best friend, perhaps the only woman he'd ever seen drink several glasses of bai-jiu and smoke a half-pack of cigarettes in a single seating. Each dish that night had a special presentation, a colorful ring of carrots about the twice-fried eggplant, a garland of thinly-sliced chilies haloing the garlicky green beans, a well-placed broccoli head in the fish's open mouth. She smiled at him when he gave her one of his cigarettes, coyly lighting it with a subtle turn of the wrist, and after she took her first long drag, he motioned us up. Never to be repeated, he brought us back his narrow kitchen, a blackened wok bubbling over a powerful blue fire. Deftly splashing it with alcohol, he flipped the contents into the air and watched the flame dance across her eyes. — Megan Rich

I tend to pack light but still keep a large bag because I love to shop. For each destination I travel to, I like to buy something that the country or city is known for such as olive oil, truffle, jewelry, etc. I also like to buy perfumes because the smell brings me back to the memory of my travels. — Jacqueline MacInnes Wood

Sophie dear,' I said. 'Are you in love with him - with this spider-man?'
'Oh, don't call him that - please - we can't any of us help being what we are. His name's Gordon. He's kind to me, David. He's fond of me. You've got to have as little as I have to know how much that means. You've never known loneliness. You can't understand the awful emptiness that's waiting all round us here. I'd have given him babies gladly, if I could ... I - oh, why do they do that to us? Why didn't they kill me? It would have been kinder than this ... '
She sat without a sound. The tears squeezed out from under the closed lids and ran down her face. I took her hand between my own.
I remembered watching. The man with his arm linked in the woman's, the small figure on top of the pack-horse waving back to me as they disappeared into the trees. Myself desolate, a kiss still damp on my
cheek, a lock tied with a yellow ribbon in my hand. I looked at her now, and my heart ached. — John Wyndham

My love's locked up in a frigidaire, And my heart's in a deep-freeze pack. She's gone with a guy, I'd not know where, But she wrote that she'd never come back. Now she don't care for me no more, I'm just a one-man frozen store, And it ain't nice To be on ice With my love locked up in a frigidaire, And my heart in a deep-freeze pack. While — John Wyndham

Paige claimed my toothbrush!" I complained to no one in particular.
"I forgot to pack my own," Paige replied defensively, "not that I have one. I haven't brushed my teeth in months, Tess, I ran away, remember? So I deserve it."
"You could use mine," Jayden called, only half sarcastic.
"What makes you think that has any potential to be a solution? And just because we're dating now doesn't mean there's no such thing as germs!" I called back. — Embee

I disagree with the concept that somehow or another we're going to pack up 10, to 12, to 15 million people and ship them back to the country of origin. That's not going to happen. — Rick Perry

Atlas, we read in ancient song, Was so exceeding tall and strong, He bore the skies upon his back, Just as the pedler does his pack; But, as the pedler overpress'd Unloads upon a stall to rest, Or, when he can no longer stand, Desires a friend to lend a hand, So Atlas, lest the ponderous spheres Should sink, and fall about his ears, Got Hercules to bear the pile, That he might sit and rest awhile. — Jonathan Swift

Mama and I walked back out of the woods just in time to hear Frannie squeal, "I want to stay here forever!" "Fine by me." Cleo smiled. She opened up her little red cooler and sloshed through the ice. She pulled out an orange soda bottle and passed it to my sister. "We can stay here all day, at least." "Cleo Harness?" yelled a familiar, husky voice from the edge of the woods. "Is that you?" "Pack up!" Cleo hollered. "We're leaving!" She kicked the cooler lid shut and stood up so fast that her camping chair stayed stuck to her behind. — Natalie Lloyd

Isabelle had been trained to wake up early every morning, rain or shine, and a slight hangover did nothing to prevent it from happening again. She sat up slowly and blinked down at Simon. She'd never spent and entire night in a bed with anyone else, unless you counted crawling into her parents bed when she was four and afraid of thunderstorms. She couldn't help staring at Simon as if he were some exotic species of animal. He lay on his back, his mouth slightly open, his hair in his eyes. Ordinary brown hair, ordinary brown eyes. His t-shirt was pulled up slightly. He wasn't muscular like a shadowhunter. He had a smooth flat stomach but no six-pack, and there was still a hint of softness to his face. What was it about him that fascinated her? He was plenty cute, but she had dated gorgeous faerie knights, sexy shadowhunters ...
"Isabelle," Simon said without opening his eyes. "Quit staring at me. — Cassandra Clare

The cold never bothers me when I'm filled with the hot soup of bad souls. Nevertheless I make a show of shivering. Chi strips off his leather vest and I hold it as he peels off his hoodie, pulling his shirt up with it. I get an eyeful of carved six-pack abs and bite back a whistle. Demon-hunting must be good for the physique. The looks of an angel and yet all it makes me want to do is sin. — Eliza Crewe

For speed Bone had buried his pack half a day back, and thus as he stood he laced the boots together and tied them to his belt, so that their jostling could deliver a metaphorical kick in the behind. — Chris Willrich

Hey,' Wildgirl says, 'let me into your backpack. I've got a light on my keys that I totally forgot about.'
I turn my back to her and feel her fumbling with the zip of my pack. It's a lot lighter now.
'I'm glad you hung on to your bag. I would have had to kick your ass if you lost all my stuff.'
I probably wouldn't mind that, although if I were given a choice, I'd opt for another kiss. It's the first time I've been so close to someone since I've changed. Kissing felt better than I remembered, but it also felt like it was something I had to be careful about. It never felt that way before. — Leanne Hall

I had little choice but to resign my job at the hospital, pack my bags and move back to Bloody Mary, — Liliana Hart

Ray Bradbury has a vacation house in Palm Springs, California, in the desert at the base of the Santa Rosa mountains. It's a Rat Pack-era affair, with a chrome-and-turquoise kitchen and a small swimming pool in back. — Sam Weller

Alec decided to go first this time, stepping through the doorway and onto the landing. He reached back and pulled his flashlight out of his pack, clicked it on and shined it down the steps. Mark leaned in to see dust motes dancing in the bright beam. Alec was just putting his foot forward to start down when a voice rang out from below. "C-c-come any closer and I'll l-l-light the match." It was a man's voice, weak and shaky. Alec glanced back at Mark with a questioning look. — James Dashner

Some things we pack away, stick in the back of the closet, never expect to see again - but we can't quite make ourselves discard them. Like — Harlan Coben

And to answer the question that people have about this conspiracy theory that he has a pack in his back, my answer is, if someone was feeding him answers, couldn't they be able to feed him better ones than he came up with? — Bill Maher

When I was writing the first few books, what I would do is write a bunch of sentences and then go back and expand and explode those sentences, pack as much into them as I could, so they'd kind of be like popcorn kernels popping ... all this stuff in there to make the writing dense, and beautiful for its density. — William T. Vollmann

What Hamlet suffers from is a lack of zombies. Let us say Rosencrantz and Guildenstern show up - Ho-HO! Now you've got something that stirs the, um, something that stirs things that are stirrable. BOOM! A pack of ravenous flesh-eaters breaks open their heads and sucks out their eyeballs. No need for iambic pentameter because they are grunting, groaning annihilators of humanity with no time for meter. You're not asleep in the back of English class anymore, are you? This is what I'm talking about. Zombies. Learn it, live it, love it. — Libba Bray

Welcome back, Jem. — J.A. Belfield

One of the cheapest commodities in the world is unfulfilled genius. All of us want to be known as a unique individual, the one who broke out of the pack. So, you offer yourself up as a sacrifice and what you're afraid of is losing and being thrown back into the pack. One question taunts you. Do you want to have, or do you want to be? — Leon Uris

I wasn't sure if i was embarrassed or just irritated. Cursing, I held the packet to my chest and stomped off. I turned around to send him one last seething glare and ran smack dab into a tree. Or at least it felt like a tree. But trees weren't warm. And they didn't have 1, 2, 3, 4, 6 Good Lord, 8? Eight pack? And dear God i was counting. I had touched each muscle. And great my hand was firmly places against the guys stomach.
I jerked my hand back and closed my eyes.
"Were tyou just counting my abs?" His voice sounded amused. It also sounded like a movie star voice, the type that makes you want to jump into the TV screen. It was deep, strong and had a slight accent I couldn't place. British? Scottish? — Rachel Van Dyken

Fine." My fingers felt cold and clumsy as I fumbled to untie the straps that held my sword to the side of the pack. Suddenly I felt something harshly cold against my neck. I turned my head in slow motion and looked up the length of a very sharp blade.
"Lovely." Kieran's voice dripped with sarcasm. "I'm sure an enemy would have too much honor to attack you until you're ready. That must be why you're completely unprotected and paying no attention whatsoever." He glared at me for a long punishing moment. Then he eased the sword back and inch. "Lesson one. Stay on guard." Reaching past me, he flicked the tip of his sword and easily sliced the ties on my pack. — Sharon Hinck

Werewolf change was never pleasant. That was one of the reasons pack members still referred to it as a curse, despite the fact that, in the modern age of enlightenment and free will, clavigers chose metamorphosis. The change comprised a good deal of biological rearranging. This, like rearranging one's parlor furniture for a party, involved a transition from tidy to very messy to tidy once more. And, as with any redecoration, there was a moment in the middle where it seemed impossible that everything could possibly go back together harmoniously. — Gail Carriger

No more tubs for me." I jumped off the bed and pulled on a pair of Pack sweats. "They make me lose all sense."
Curran sprawled on the bed with a big self-satisfied smile. "Want to know a secret?"
"Sure."
"It's not the bathtub, baby."
Well, aren't we smug. I picked up the corner of the lowest mattress and made a show of looking under it.
"What are you looking for?"
"A pea Your Majesty."
"What?"
"You heard me."
I jumped back as he lunged and his fingers missed me by an inch.
"Getting slow in your old age."
"I thought you liked it slow."
A flashback to last night mugged me and my mind executed a full stop.
He laughed. "Ran out of snappy comebacks?"
"Hush. I'm trying to think of one. — Ilona Andrews

Knowing can be a curse on a person's life. I'd traded in a pack of lies for a pack of truth, and I didn't know which one was heavier. Which one took the most strength to carry around? It was a ridiculous question, though, because once you know the truth, you can't ever go back and pick up your suitcase of lies. Heavier or not, the truth is yours now. — Sue Monk Kidd

Lori rushed to join him, threw her arms around his waist, and gave him a big, warm hug. And then kissed him full on the mouth.
When he came up for air and looked into her smiling face, he smiled right back. "Well, hell, if you had let me know that this was the way I'd be treated as the pack leader, I would have done it a long time ago. — Terry Spear

A week after Jacque and Fane's ceremony, Decebel had gotten in his Hummer and, without looking back, driven away from the pack mansion. And 62 days, 4 hours, and 22 minutes later he still hadn't returned. But who's counting? — Quinn Loftis

we leaned against the fence, basking in what passed for normal with us. A werewolf pack in my back yard, a wizard grilling steaks, — Ben Reeder

What are you going to call them?" Meg asked. "Lunch?" Simon offered. The female pack gave him a look that made him think running away would be a good idea, if he wasn't the leader and couldn't back down. — Anne Bishop

He cast off his friends as a huntsman his pack, For he knew when he pleas'd he could whistle them back. — Oliver Goldsmith

Now Pastor owns a small corner of the hood - or perhaps, more to the point, he owns a moment of his own experience. He can pack up his own heightened awareness like a souvenir. His opened eyes are take-home talismans. You want the tour to give you back another version of yourself, you and everyone: a more enlightened human. — Leslie Jamison

The sled runners had been replaced by wheels and they traveled on a rutted, muddy road that formed a dark line between two fields of snow that occasionally showed a patch of matted, tangled weeds. Seeing them got her thinking. She wiped her face with the blanket and, digging her brush out of a nearby pack, began the arduous process of clearing the snarls from her hair.

She pulled, grunted, and then sighed. Modina looked over with a questioning expression, and Arista explained by letting go of the brush and leaving it to hang.

Modina smiled and crawled over to her. "Turn around," she said, and taking the brush, the empress began working the back of Arista's head. "You have quite the rat's nest here."

"Be careful one doesn't bite you," Arista replied. — Michael J. Sullivan

The slightly porky man on the other side of the Plexiglas has back-combed hair and arms covered in tattoos. As if it isn't enough to look like someone has slapped a pack of margarine over his head, he has to cover himself in doodles as well. There's not even a proper motif, as far as Ove can see, just a lot of patterns. Is that something an adult person in a healthy state of mind would consent to? Going about with his arms looking like a pair of pajamas? — Fredrik Backman

Despite your daughter's very inappropriate laughter at such a fine pack of soldiers for the Confederacy, I have come to ask you for her hand in marriage. No, sir! Your pardon, I take that back! I have come to beg you for her hand in marriage! — Heather Graham

She loved all the wolves behind her house, but she loved one of them most of all.
And this one loved her back. He loved her back so hard that even the things that weren't special about her became special: the way she tapped her pencil on her teeth, the off-key songs she sang in the shower, how when she kissed him he knew it meant for ever.
Hers was a memory made up of snapshots: being dragged through the snow by a pack of wolves, first kiss tasting of oranges, saying goodbye behind a cracked windshield.
A life made up of promises of what could be: the possibilities contained in a stack of college applications, the thrill of sleeping under a strange roof, the future that lay in Sam's smile.
It was a life I didn't want to leave behind.
It was a life I didn't want to forget.
I wasn't done with it yet. There was so much more to say. — Maggie Stiefvater

It is easy to tell the toiler How best he can carry his pack But no one can rate a burden's weight Until it has been on his back — Ella Wheeler Wilcox