Poke Love Quotes & Sayings

She will wake up one morning, or look up one evening at a sunset or a tree, and know that she loves him. This is my hope for her: that she will find her love has grown in secret, as a plant grows underground before it flowers. And one does not poke at the plant before it lifts its head from the soil; one lets it be. — Susan Palwick

I love being around my family. I am very close to my mum, my brother, my grandmother, my aunts - we constantly poke fun at each other, but it's all done out of love. — Jourdan Dunn

I can't imagine living the way he does - always keeping track of who gave me what and what I should give them in return, incapable of love or loyalty or forgiveness, a one-eyed man with a knife in hand, looking for someone else's eye to poke out. That isn't life. It's some paler version of life. I wonder where he learned it from. — Veronica Roth

I love the needle poke, the red pop/
and when an arc of red drops,/
quivering and shaped like wings/
beg me to lick them off,/
quickly savoring your shoulder/
newly marked with a nearly invisible/
but indelible butterfly — Rachel Dacus

The sun glowed behind the monotonous, gray January sky, a tease of light through the heavy hazy. Noah gazed out the window. He hated when the sun shined against the overcast sky creating a white, blinding glare while the ball of yellow remained hidden, a tantalizing possibility without a promise. Maybe it would poke through; maybe it wouldn't. That type of sun was a capricious as a woman. — Jacqueline Simon Gunn

We yearn for a stranger to poke around in our heart. Such an irrational thing it is. Flutter once and lunacy behold. — H.S. Crow

Swiftly arose and spread around me the peace and knowledge
that pass all the argument of the earth,
And I know that the hand of God is the promise of my
own,
And I know that the spirit of God is the brother of my own,
And that all the men ever born are also my brothers, and the
women my sisters and lovers,
And that a kelson of the creation is love,
And limitless are leaves stiff or drooping in the fields,
And brown ants in the little wells beneath them,
And mossy scabs of the worm fence, heap'd stones, elder,
mullein and poke-weed. — Walt Whitman

You know what? Lets go." I shot Aiden a defiant look. "Come on Seth. Let's go continue our lovers' quarrel."
"Yes my love, that sounds fantastic. Don't forget to grab a dagger so you can poke my eyeballs out. — Jennifer L. Armentrout

I feel I would love to close down for a number of years in some way and just be in the country making pork pies and chutneys and never have to poke my head out of the parapet. — Stephen Fry

I am aware that there are those who love to poke fun at the plain man's idea of reality. They are the idealists who spin endless proofs that nothing is real outside of the mind. They are the relativists who like to show that there are no fixed points in the universe from which we can measure anything. They smile down upon us from their lofty intellectual peaks and settle us to their own satisfaction by fastening upon us the reproachful term "absolutist." The Christian is not put out of countenance by this show of contempt. He can smile right back at them, for he knows that there is only One who is Absolute, that is God. — A.W. Tozer

Firstly: don't touch the hands of your cuckoo-clock heart. Secondly: master your anger. Thirdly: never, ever fall in love. For if you do, the hour hand will poke through your skin, your bones will shatter, and your heart will break once more. — Mathias Malzieu

Sri Yukteswar used to poke gentle fun at the commonly inadequate conceptions of renunciation."A beggar cannot renounce wealth," Master would say. "If a man laments: 'My business has failed; my wife has left me; I will renounce all and enter a monastery,' to what worldly sacrifice is he referring? He did not renounce wealth and love; they renounced him!"Saints like Gandhi, on the other hand, have made not only tangible material sacrifices, but also the more difficult renunciation of selfish motive and private goal, merging their inmost being in the stream of humanity as a whole. — Paramahansa Yogananda

A bunch of the boys were whooping it up in the Malamute saloon;
The kid that handles the music-box was hitting a jag-time tune;
Back of the bar, in a solo game, sat Dangerous Dan McGrew,
And watching his luck was his light-o'-love, the lady that's known as Lou.
When out of the night, which was fifty below, and into the din and the glare,
There stumbled a miner fresh from the creeks, dog-dirty, and loaded for bear.
He looked like a man with a foot in the grave and scarcely the strength of a louse,
Yet he tilted a poke of dust on the bar, and he called for drinks for the house.
There was none could place the stranger's face, though we searched ourselves for a clue;
But we drank his health, and the last to drink was Dangerous Dan McGrew. — Robert W. Service

He's kind with me."
"But not with everyone." This wasn't a question. It was a statement of fact.
"No, not with everyone. But if you knew -"
"And you've fallen in love with a person who doesn't feel it's necessary to be kind to anyone else but you?"
I pressed my lips together and swallowed. She didn't sound judgmental or even upset. She sounded curious. It was always this way with my mother. Her curiosity was why she won every argument, and why people always listened to her and took her advice.
She was exceedingly reasonable. She was never malicious or pushy, never condescending or irritated. She was only curious. She'd poke holes in terrible proposals and theories with her curious questions until it was clear to everyone that the proposal or theory was garbage. But she'd never, ever come out and say it.
I'd learned that the best defense against curiosity is honestly. — Penny Reid

It was in this byre, littered with dry and hollow cowclaps subsiding with a sigh at the poke of my finger, that for the first time in my life, and I would not hesitate to say the last if I had not to husband my cyanide, I had to contend with a feeling which gradually assumed, to my dismay, the dread name of love. — Samuel Beckett

I love you, Vicki!" Kennedy slurs.
"I love you, Ken-ken!" Vicki returns.
Then Vicki pokes my shoulder. "And you! You take good care of my Kenny! Don't make me hafta kick (poke) yer (poke) ass (double poke)!"
I give her a nod. "The ass-kicking days are behind us now."
"Good! Then there's somethin' you should know." Vicki's expression sobers, and she gestures me closer before ruining the effect by whispering loudly, "Kennedy hasn't had an orgamsum . . . orgamsam . . . Kennedy hasn't come in a loooong time. Like, years. At least, not with a guy."
"Shhhhhhh!" Kennedy swats her best friend like a fly. "Tha's a secret!"
"Maybe Brent can help you wif it?"
I give Vicki the thumbs-up - and it's not the only thing that's up, that's for sure. — Emma Chase

Though he love not to buy the pig in the poke. — John Heywood

If there's such a thing as love at first sight, then I certainly did not fall prey to its mystical power the moment my eyes met his. I only felt a poke of wonder, as if seeing a book with a unique title. Nothing instant and extreme feeling I felt. My heart was in one piece. — Kia Amazona

Hence it's funny to read in the New York Times that liberal Catholic activists are pushing for a change in Church teaching on issues relating to -- well, let's admit it, sex. Nobody is out there demanding the popes revisit the condemnation of Jansenism (don't ask), or settle the question of whether divine grace is or isn't resistable. No, journalists want to know what the Church thinks about whether one person should poke another and, if so, where, when, and how. What liberal Catholics and the journalists who love them are really asking for isfor the Church to admit that it was teaching a set of harsh, repressive errors for nineteen centuries and that now it is very, very sorry. — John Zmirak

It really is great. Especially having people who we make fun every week come on and poke fun at themselves is really cool, I love that. No reality star has been mad at me yet for making fun of them. I'm sure that one day soon though, someone is going to take a swing at me. — Joel McHale

I just don't get it. You've been in love with this bloke since you were a kid, and he's never once got his hair cut short enough that it doesn't poke him in the damn eye. — Kristina Adams

We love to see any redness in the vegetation of the temperate zone. It is the color of colors. This plant speaks to our blood ... What a perfect maturity it arrives at! It is the emblem of a successful life concluded by a death not premature, which is an ornament to Nature. What if we were to mature as perfectly, root and branch, glowing in the midst of our decay, like the poke! — Henry David Thoreau

She poked him in the center of his chest with two fingers to punctuate her words.
"You are an unfeeling" - poke - "traitorous" - poke - "mistrusting" - poke - "rude" - poke - "booby!"
Every poke turned him mortal, but Lord Maccon didn't seem to mind it in the least. Instead he grabbed the hand that poked him and brought it to his lips. "You put it very well, my love. — Gail Carriger