Parched Lips Quotes & Sayings

To build a church when a school house is needed is to perpetrate a theft upon education.
To build a church when a hospital is needed is to take from the parched lips of the sick the cup of relief and from the suffering the merciful hand of help.
When the object of man's conduct will be to improve the conditions of his fellow man and not the appeasement of a mythical God, he will become more understanding and more indulgent of the frailties, mistakes, and action of others, and by the same token he will become more appreciative of their efforts.
He will develop a greater consciousness to avoid mistakes and to prevent injury. Life and its living will take on a greater significance, and our efforts and energies will be devoted to creating as much joy and happiness as possible for all living creatures. — Joseph Lewis

The art of war," I told him, "is to make the enemy do your bidding. — Bernard Cornwell

Ibrahim's eyes darkened with an emotion Mark was unable to read. "I won't leave you; no, my friend, it is not possible." "Go," Mark whispered again from between his parched lips. "Get your family to safety. I'm too weak." "You will make it," Ibrahim insisted. "I give you my strength. Shatha gives you her strength, too. We go as one. What is it you Americans say? No man left behind. I more American now than Iraqi. I not leave you behind. What you say - no way? I say no way I leave you." Mark — Debbie Macomber

Sinking, sinking, drinking water. When everyone in the village was fasting a long month,when not a grain, not a drop of water passed between the parched lips of any able-bodied man, woman or child over the age of ten, when the sun was hotter than the cooking pot and dusk was just a febrile wish, the hypocrite went down to the pond to duck his head, to dive and sink, to drink and sink a little lower. p. 105 — Monica Ali

Brandon: How does the character fit into the story, how will people expect them to fit into the story, and how, therefore, can I make them incongruous for those expectations? I'm looking for incongruity. Ask yourself why this character cannot fill the role in the plot that they are expected to fulfill. Ask yourself who would be perfect for this role. I'm not going to use that person. — Brandon Sanderson

There is no long interval between the sense of thirst and the trickling of the stream over the parched lip; but ever it is flowing, flowing past us, and the desire is but the opening of the lips to receive the limpid, and life-giving waters. No one ever desired the grace of God, really and truly desired it, but just in proportion as he desired it, he got it; just in proportion as he thirsted, he was satisfied. — Alexander MacLaren

Inch by tantalizing inch, he brought the shirt up exposing his six pack abs. Kim's mouth went dry as more and more of his chest was revealed to her view. Her tongue ran over her parched lips. All she could think about was licking something off those abs. It could have been poison and she would have gladly licked it and begged for more. — Marie Rose Dufour

How soft and gentle her name sounds when I whisper it. It lingers on the tongue, insidious and slow, almost like poison, which is apt indeed. It passes from the tongue to the parched lips, and from the lips back to the heart. And the heart controls the body, and the mind also. Shall I be free of it one day? — Daphne Du Maurier

Hope is a merciless tormentor. It's the sound of trickling water to parched lips. The prospect of love to the unlovable. A miracle cure to the parents of a dying child. It holds up victory over the inevitable and beckons us to crawl further over slicing shards, all the while pulling back, remaining just out of reach. It makes agony out of mere pain by pretending a different outcome could have been. It laughs at mankind's embrace of it after millennia of disappointment. — Robert Liparulo

Jessica," he began. "Just leave me alone!" He turned her around. That she only hesitated briefly before she allowed it was a very good sign, to his mind. He pulled her close, then ran his blood-caked hand over her hair as gently as he knew how. She liked that. He would have walked from Hadrian's wall to London on his hands if she'd liked that, too. Saints, what a fool love made of a normally sane man. He rested his bruised cheek against her hair. "Jess," he whispered, "it was talk you shouldn't have heard." She tried to pull away, but he tightened his arms around her. "I said things I didn't mean." "You creep, then you don't care about me at all!" "I care," he said, forcing the words from between suddenly parched lips. He was so terrified, he was shaking. If she turned and walked away now, he wasn't sure he would survive. — Lynn Kurland

She wanted Adam Fox with the fervour of
parched earth thirsting for water, corn aching for the warmth of ripening sun, a starving skeleton drooling over a crust of bread. Her passionate young body yearned to feel his touch, soft lips quivered an invitation to be kissed, wounded eyes promised a lifetime of devotion, if only ... — Margaret Rome

Perhaps the only people who need go thirsty through the street where there is a drinking fountain, are the fine ladies and gentlemen who are in their carriages. They are very thirsty - but cannot think of being so vulgar as to get out to drink. It would demean them, they think, to drink at a common drinking fountain - so they ride by with parched lips. Oh, how many there are who are rich in their own good works and cannot therefore come to Christ! — Charles Haddon Spurgeon

I had never seen a woman's breasts before, and I doubted if any seven-year-old boy in Craighead County had. Maybe some kid had stumbled upon his mother, but I was certain no boy my age had never had this view. — John Grisham

Fire bursts inside me. My lips part under his. Coming up on my toes, I fist my hands in his hair and kiss him back, sharing the flames that lick at my soul. I breathe as he breathes, liquid heat in my veins.
He kisses me like I am water and he is parched. He is gentle and rough, taking and giving. In that moment, his kiss is all I know, all I ever want to know.
I come up higher on my toes and my lips cling to his as he pulls away. I'm left shaken and out of my element. I've never been kissed like that. I never imagined such a kiss existed. — Eve Silver

I am not a historian. I happen to think that the content of my mother's life - her myths, her superstitions, her prayers, the contents of her pantry, the smell of her kitchen, the song that escaped from her sometimes parched lips, her thoughtful repose and pregnant laughter - are all worthy of art. — August Wilson

When our life is a continuous trial, the moments of respite seem only to substitute the heaviness of dread for the heaviness of actual suffering; the curtain of cloud seems parted an instant only that we may measure all its horror as it hangs low, black, and imminent, in contrast with the transient brightness; the waterdrops that visit the parched lips in the desert bear with them only the keen imagination of thirst. — George Eliot

Percy, wake me for a second watch. Don't be a hero."
He gave her that smirk she'd come to love."Who, me?" He kissed her, his lips parched and feverishly warm. "Sleep. — Rick Riordan

Their errors have been weighed and found to have been dust in the balance; if their sins were as scarlet, they are now white as snow: they have been washed in the blood of the mediator and the redeemer, Time. — Percy Bysshe Shelley

She licked her parched lips, moistening them, preparing them. "You could lose your job."
"You could be expelled."
"It's unethical."
"Dangerous."
His mouth hovered only millimeters over hers. "We doing this?"
She hooked her arms around his neck. "God yes. — Shelly Bell

Enlightenment is represented by Sri Krishna, who is said to be an avatar. — Frederick Lenz

Uninvited, the thought of you stayed too late in my head,
so I went to bed, dreaming you hard, hard, woke with your name,
like tears, soft, salt, on my lips, the sound of its bright syllables
like a charm, like a spell.

Falling in love
is glamorous hell; the crouched, parched heart
like a tiger ready to kill; a flame's fierce licks under the skin.
Into my life, larger than life, beautiful, you strolled in.

I hid in my ordinary days, in the long grass of routine,
in my camouflage rooms. You sprawled in my gaze,
staring back from anyone's face, from the shape of a cloud,
from the pining, earth-struck moon which gapes at me

as I open the bedroom door. The curtains stir. There you are
on the bed, like a gift, like a touchable dream.

"You — Carol Ann Duffy