Pull Hair Quotes & Sayings

He makes a face and tosses the flower at me. It lands on my cheek, and I pick it up and twirl it between my fingers. I could lie out here all day, not moving an inch, feeling the sun above and the grass below. With a contented sigh, I stretch my arms wide, raking the grass with my fingers - and find myself brushing Aladdin's hand with my own. I pull it away quickly, my cheeks warming. He laughs a little.
"Sometimes," he says, "I forget you're supposed to be four thousand years old. You act as shy as a girl of sixteen."
"I do not!" I sit up and glare at him.
He grins and shrugs, sliding his hands under his head. There are bits of grass stuck in his hair, and after a moment's hesitation, I reach over and flick them away.
Aladdin watches me silently, his throat bobbing as he swallows. I drop my gaze. — Jessica Khoury

And so to my fool's bed. What was that? No, no, not a girl crying in the garden. No one, cold, hungry, and banished, was shivering there, longing and not daring to come in. It was the chains swinging at the well. It would be folly to get up and go out and call again: Psyche, Psyche, my only love. I am a great queen. I have killed a man. I am drunk like a man. All warriors drink deep after the battle. Bardia's lips on my hand were like the touch of lightning. All great princes have mistresses and lovers. There's the crying again. No, it's only the buckets at the well. "Shut the window, Poobi. To your bed, child. Do you love me, Poobi? Kiss me good night. Good night." The king's dead. He'll never pull my hair again. A straight thrust and then a cut in the leg. That would have killed him. I am the Queen; I'll kill Orual too. — C.S. Lewis

Prophet pulled back a little, a wicked look in his eyes as he looked up at Tom. He licked slowly along the ladder of piercings, and then he paid special attention to each one, tugging the barbells between his teeth until Tom hissed or groaned and tightened his grip on Prophet's hair warningly. Each time, Prophet would comply, letting his dick go, and he'd wait patiently, and each time Tom brought his mouth back to his cock, he was rewarded with the tug and pull, lick-suck-twist motion. His pain-pleasure center intertwined to where Tom could barely pick out which was which. He knew he just wanted more. Prophet's — S.E. Jakes

stroked that doorway to her soul, stroked that insanity switch in my head. The one that didn't give a fuck about points, shame, or fear, only making her pull my hair, claw my skin, and scream my fucking name. — Lucian Bane

I pull his hair a little harder while pushing his head harder against me. His fingers curl inside me, stroking my spot as his tongue caresses my clit with increased urgency." - Sofia Herrera (Never Say Never, Unbearable Passion, #1) — Scarlett Avery

Tighten your grip, make me bleed, it's a hunger I need to feed. Strip me bare, pull my hair, I don't care just take me there. — Pepper Winters

I feel so relieved to be at the stage I'm at in my life right now, Jill, because if I want to wear my glasses, I'm wearing my glasses. If I want to pull my hair back, I'm pulling my hair back. — Hillary Rodham Clinton

Oh shit, oh shit, stupid shower present!"
Now she did pull her hair as she made the dash to her office.
Roarke sat in her visitor's chair, comfortably involved with his PPC. He glanced up, let loose a regretful sigh. "You changed. And I didn't have any time to ogle you in uniform."
"I have to go shopping!"
Staring at her, Roarke pressed his fingertips to his temple. "I'm sorry, I believe I must have had a small stroke. What did you say?"
"This isn't funny." She bent down, gripped him by the lapels. "I forgot to get a thing for the thing, and I don't even know what the thing is supposed to be. Now I have to go out and hunt something down. Except - " Her eyes went from slightly mad to speculative. "We have all kinds of things around the house. Couldn't I just wrap something up and - "
"No."
"Crap! — J.D. Robb

She clenched her fist in his T-shirt, put her other arm around those too-broad, too-real shoulders. When he tried to pull away, she held on tight. Kami felt the surrender in his mind a moment before he laid his face in the curve of her neck. The whole world was so real it hurt.
Kami whispered into Jared's hair, I'm always on your side. — Sarah Rees Brennan

JAMIE'S SONG 'ZERO GRAVITY':

Sometimes I feel like I'm losing my mind.
I can't fight, I can't hide, and I can't tell the time.
I walk and I talk and I scream and I cry,
I pull at my hair and I crawl up to die.

When you're not around,
It feels like there's nothing holding me to the ground.
Suspended in no air with no light and no sound.
Floating and drifting, up and around.
I can't move, I can't breathe, I can't hear, I can't see.
Stuck on a planet with zero gravity. — Neha Yazmin

Blake waited for her to look at him with a smile, but her shoes were still too captivating. He held a hand up to stop Cole from beginning the ceremony. He knelt on one knee, close to the hem of her dress, and looked up at her. She watched him as he kissed her hand.
"Beautiful, enchanting Livia, will you marry me today?"
Livia's disobedient tears emerged, gravity bathing his smiling face with their small, splashy wishes. She took her hand from his and covered her mouth. She nodded over and over as she cried.
Blake stood and gathered her. Livia dissolved into him, leaving the guests alternately tearing up or looking in other directions.
Blake tried to stroke her hair through the veil, but he was afraid he would pull it out. "Shhh. It's okay. I'm not that terrible, am I?"
Livia shook her head.
"I'm making you my wife right now, even if you cry through the whole damn thing." Blake switched to wiping her tears. — Debra Anastasia

Spank me pull my hair bite me — Sylvia Day

I reach up and pull my hair back from my face, show him the scar from the accident. Unconsciously, he mimics my gesture, touches the same scar on his own forehead.
"It's just like mine," says my self, amazed. "How did you get it?" "The same as you. It is the same. We are the same."
A translucent moment. I didn't understand, and then I did, just like that. I watch it happen. I want to be both of us at once, feel again the feeling of losing the edges of my self, of seeing the admixture of future and present for the first time. But I'm too accustomed, too comfortable with it, and so I am left on the outside, remembering the wonder of being nine and suddenly seeing, knowing, that my friend, guide, brother was me. Me, only me. The loneliness of it. — Audrey Niffenegger

IN THE SECOND GRADE, WHEN YOU ARE A BOY WHO LIKES A GIRL, YOU GIVE HER YOUR BEST POKEMON CARD. OR YOU PULL HER HAIR. NOT HARD ENOUGH TO MAKE HER CRY, THOUGH.
OR YOU CAN ASK TO HER ROLLERSKATE BACKWARDS WITH YOU, AND THEN HOLD HER HAND SO SHE DOESN'T FALL DOWN. — Meg Cabot

Rosie hated her curly golden hair. When she was old enough to hold minimal conversations, the itsy-bitsy-cutesycoo sort of grown-ups would pull the soft ringlets gently and tell her what a pretty little girl she was. She would stare at this sort of grown-up and say, "I am not pretty. I am intelligent. And brave." The grown-ups usually thought this was darling, which only made her angry, perhaps partly because she was speaking the truth, although it was tricky to differentiate between "brave" and "foolhardy" at three or four years old. — Robin McKinley

I want to pull my hair back tight and smooth and make a big knot at the back that I can feel, she said. I want to have a kitty to sit on my lap and purr when I stroke her. — Ernest Hemingway,

A Vietnamese saying has it that "Only those with long hair are afraid, for no one can pull the hair of those who have none." And so I try as much as possible to acquire only those things that don't extend beyond the limits of my body. — Kim Thuy

Zombie!" Sammy calls. "I knew it was you."
Zombie?
"Where are you taking him?" Ben says to me in a deep voice. I don't remember it being that deep. Is my memory bad or is he lowering it on purpose, to sound older?
"Zombie, that's Cassie," Sam chides him. "You know - Cassie."
"Cassie?" Like he's never heard the name before.
"Zombie?" I say, because I really haven't heard that name before.
I pull off the cap, thinking it might help him recognize me, then immediately regret it. I know what my hair must look like.
"We go to the same high school," I say, drawing my fingers hastily through my chopped-off locks. "I sit in front of you in Honors Chemistry."
Ben shakes his head like he's clearing out the cobwebs.
Sammy goes, "I told you she was coming."
"Quiet, Sam," I scold him.
"Sam?" Ben asks.
"My name is Nugget now, Cassie," Sam informs me.
"Well, sure it is." I turn to Ben. "You know my brother. — Rick Yancey

He reaches out quickly and tucks my hair behind my ear. I freeze at his touch and the feeling his fingers have left across my cheek.

"Sorry, I just wanted to see your face."

I pull back shyly. "And why would you want to do that?"

He sits up and looks me dead in the eye. The air around us suddenly feels warm, making me shiver as the temperature around my skin changes. "Because you're beautiful. — Beckie Stevenson

My hair is God's aura. Everything went up when I got home from the penitentiary. One night I went to lie down next to my wife, and my hair started popping and uncurling all on its own - ping, ping, ping, ping! I knew that it was God telling me to stay on the righteous path so he could one day pull me up to be there with him. — Don King

How like a male. Pull out some tools and start banging on something, and they flocked in from miles around. She pushed her hair out of her face with the back of one hand and scowled at him. "I am perfectly capable of breaking it down myself."
"Of course you are," he told her smiling. "That's not what I said. I said may I help? — Thea Harrison

Pull his hair as you go by: I heard him snap his fingers. Frances pulled his hair heartily, and then went and seated herself on her husband's knee, and there they were, like two babies, kissing and talking nonsense by the hour - foolish palaver that we should be ashamed of. We made ourselves as snug as our means allowed — Emily Bronte

I threaded my fingers into her hair and kissed her, leaving her no opportunity to think about what we were doing. I wanted her to feel what I felt. To revel in the pull, the attraction. Dammit, I wanted her to undeniably love me. — Katie McGarry

Bonnie Rae, you've got a visitor downstairs. And if you don't show your face right away, he's going to kill me. And it won't be a quick death. It will be a mauling. Do you understand?"
"Huh?"
"Bear's here, and he's loaded for . . . well, bear."
"Bear's here?" she shot straight up in bed, immediately awake, and made for the door, bare legs flying, oversized T-shirt slipping off her slim shoulders.
"Bonnie!" She halted and turned in question. "If you want me to live, pull on some pants and do something with your hair. Please. — Amy Harmon

Some people grab my hair and pull it out. People write on my jeans when I'm on stage. They write on my boots - their phone number, name or whatever. — Rodney Atkins

Hair the color of lemons,'" Rudy read. His fingers touched the words. "You told him about me?"
At first, Liesel could not talk. Perhaps it was the sudden bumpiness of love she felt for him. Or had she always loved him? It's likely. Restricted as she was from speaking, she wanted him to kiss her. She wanted him to drag her hand across and pull her over. It didn't matter where. Her mouth, her neck, her cheek. Her skin was empty for it, waiting.
Years ago, when they'd raced on a muddy field, Rudy was a hastily assembled set of bones, with a jagged, rocky smile. In the trees this afternoon, he was a giver of bread and teddy bears. He was a triple Hitler Youth athletics champion. He was her best friend. And he was a month from his death.
Of course I told him about you," Liesel said. — Markus Zusak

If I had to pull an all-nighter studying for a test or too many looming deadlines had me pulling out my hair, I wouldn't end up with just some trendy coffee addiction. I'd end up in a mini-coma, face down in the middle of the studio or on the floor of the community showers. — Laekan Zea Kemp

She hadn't seen the mayor come in, though she knew he was behind her somewhere. She could sense the heat of his gaze, her hair prickly, her neck warm. How thrilling it was to feel this way, rattled by his mere presence, wanting only to give in to his pull. But desire was awful, too, full of trapdoors and sharp hooks. — Rae Meadows

A thousand fireworks explode inside me, and I feel them in him too, in his lips on mine, and his hands in my hair, and he way we pull each other closer. Everything else falls away, and in this moment, when we touch, we are light. — Jessi Kirby

May's haircuts were Marblehead's version of a magic show. The townie kids used to form lines up and down Front Street to watch as Mr. Dooling pulled the rattail comb through my mother's hair. With each pull, the comb would snag on something, then stop. As he reached into the mass to unwind the tangle, he would find and remove everything from sea glass to shells to smooth stones. In one particularly matted tangle, he found a sea horse. Once he even found a postcard sent from Tahiti to someone in Beverly Farms. — Brunonia Barry

He kissed me tenderly as my heart thumped out of control. My fingers slipped into his thick, black hair and held tightly. He paused, not wanting to pull away. I didn't let him. I was going to say goodbye properly. I held tightly, pressing my lips to his, soft at first then hard with desire. — Leigh Goff

Pull the hair on my head the wrong way, and I would be on my knees begging for mercy. I have very sensitive follicles. — Benedict Cumberbatch

But that was before she'd gotten that chest, before that slash of black hair had gone from something to pull on the bus to something to stroke in the dark. — Junot Diaz

With TV, you get on a show and you're there for 11 years playing the same character. I would pull my hair out. Yes, the money is good. But I'm really not in this business to chase dollars. — Taraji P. Henson

Long, long ago, (said the voice), five hundred years ago or more, on a winter's day at twilight, a young man entered the Church with a young girl with ivy leaves in her hair. There was no one else there but the stones. No one to see him strangle her but the stones. He let her fall dead upon the stones and no one saw but the stones. He was never punished for his sin because there were no witnesses but the stones. The years went by and whenever the man entered the Church and stood among the congregation the stones cried out that this was the man who had murdered the girl with the ivy leaves wound into her hair, but no one ever heard us. But it is not too late! We know where he is buried! In the corner of the south transept! Quick! Quick! Fetch picks! Fetch shovels! Pull up the paving stones. Dig up his bones! Let them be smashed with the shovel! Dash his skull against the pillars and break it! Let the stones have vengeance too! It is not too late! It is not too late! — Susanna Clarke

Beckett, would you do me a favor? For my wedding?" Livia asked suddenly.
He nodded. "You know I'll do whatever you ask."
She looked over her shoulder and back to his face. "In a minute I'm going to faint away from lack of food. When I wake up, I would appreciate it if you were miles away on Eve's bike."
"You're going to crack your fucking head trying to pull a stunt like that." He ran his hand through his hair. "And I gave your dad my word. I don't want him to think that was all a ploy."
"You said anything. Come on, big guy, give me what I want." She looked at him hopefully. "I'll explain it all to my dad later. I promise."
Beckett leaned down and kissed her cheek. "Fine. You take good care of my brother. Tell them both I said goodbye. I can't do it. I'm a pussy. — Debra Anastasia

That's how I make work. Along the way, I take notes, I read about history and popular culture. Sometimes I act out things in the studio. I go back to my mother's hair salon so I can hear three voices going all at once. I pull inspiration from everything. — Mark Bradford

She threw back her head, riding him hard, the sweat sliding down between her breasts. He lurched up, half sitting, his arm propping him up, and licked the sweat from her body.
She cried out, gasping, holding his head to her even as he sucked one nipple into his mouth. She felt the pull, felt the answering gush, and knew she was falling apart, spreading outward, a star exploding.
He gasped and let go of her breast, bowing his head to her chest, his hair wild and tangled against her as he groaned and shook.
She felt heat inside her and rose one last time, spreading wide her thighs, shoving him as deep inside her as she could.
Trying to keep him forever. — Elizabeth Hoyt

The true test of a man's style is the haircut. There are some men who look good no matter how their hair is styled, whether it's trendy or not. A man can change his haircut many times, but to pull off any haircut, you have to be very chic. Like Brad Pitt. — Carine Roitfeld

[Home Economics Textbook from 1950]: "Prepare yourself. Take fifteen minutes to rest so you'll look refreshed when hubby comes home from work. Touch up makeup and put a ribbon in your hair. He's just been with work-weary people. Be a little gay. His boring day needs a lift."
Mama Celia: "Get knee-walking drunk. You've earned it. You've been with four kids under the age of seven all day. Put a ribbon in your nose and try to pull it out of your mouth. You're wasted, after all. Announce you're gay. The look on his face will give you a lift. — Celia Rivenbark

The important thing
is to pull yourself up by your own hair
to turn yourself inside out
and see the whole world with fresh eyes. — Peter Weiss

No one recognizes me. And I hope that I can always go out without being recognized. Maybe that limits you in some way but I like to be able to pull my hair back in a ponytail and get groceries without anyone noticing. — Susanna Thompson

I'll always be here, Cole. You have me. All of me. My body. My heart. It's all yours for the taking." Tangling my fingers in his hair, I pull his face to mine and let our heated breath mingle. "So take it. — Kimberly Lewis

The forties are the time when you begin to take notice of certain aches and pains. Your body and brain behave in inexplicable ways: Less hair on your head, more in your ears and nostrils. More memories in the bank, less synaptic firepower with which to access them. Gravity has started to show its inexorable pull. — Hampton Sides

To be sure, if psychopaths do recognize that actions that are harmful are proscribed, this raises a question about why psychopaths and control criminals provide different explanations for why it is wrong to hit or pull someone's hair. Psychopaths offered conventional-type justifications (e.g., "it's not the done thing" [the subjects were British]), whereas the nonpsychopathic criminals offered justifications based on the victim's welfare. — Shaun Nichols

You still excite me after all this time, probably even more so now than in the beginning." My voice is a low threatening growl as the fingers on my free hand slide her panties over to reveal what I already know to be true; she is wet. "I love the way your body responds to me." I pull her from the wall and lead her to the fainting couch adorning the sitting area in my office. Brushing her hair back from her ear, I lean in and whisper, "Turn around, bend over, and put your hands on the end of the couch. I don't care what I do to you, those hands better not fucking move out of position. — Suzanne Steele

Are you a Nehemiah and pull others hair out (Neh 13:25) or are you an Ezra who pulled out his own hair (Ezra 9:3), both were grieved over godless conduct or do you care at all? — Jonah Books

Best workout ever." Darius sat next to her and rested his back against the soft mat.
She laughed and fumbled to put on her bra. He lifted the weight of her hair from her back and helped her pull down her silk shirt.
For a moment, he held the length of her hair in his hand as he had the swing rope. He tugged gently to turn her face to his, and then released it. His face was open and relaxed, his pale blue eyes warm and content.
His knees fell open to rest against hers. The feel of skin on skin, bone to bone, was easy, the most natural thing in the world. "Next time we should try the pommel horse."
Mei laughed. "You still got pommeling on your mind?"
"Oh yeah." He signed and tilted his chin to the ciling, exposing the length of his throat. "Some pommeling and tumbling would be good. We've got time to make up for. — Susannah Scott

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

I want it all to go away. I want to go away. I don't want to be here. I don't want to be in this suspended state where I can see what's happening, where I'm aware of what I'm feeling without being able to actually feel it. I cannot scream until my throat hurts or break a window with my fist until my hand bleeds, or pull my hair out in clumps until the pain in my scalp overcomes the one in my heart. — Gayle Forman

We'll fight them. We took down my dad. We've taken down so many since then. We'll take down these jokesters too."
"I will never let anything happen to you," Nick growls into my hair. "I will die before you get hurt again. So help me God, Zara. I will die."
"Me too."
"What?"
"I will die before I let anyone hurt you or Issie or Dev or Gram or . . ." I stop and pull my head away from his chest so I can look up at him. "This list is getting kind of long and melodramatic, isn't it?"
He laughs. His hand moves slowly up my spine. He starts leaning down for a kiss. "Yeah. It is. — Carrie Jones

But not tonight. Tonight is all about Olivia - beautiful, sexy, courageous, passionate Olivia. Tonight, I want her to see what I see.
"Look at yourself," I say. I pull her long hair over one shoulder and place a kiss in the bend of her neck. She tilts her head to give me better access. "You're the most beautiful girl in the room."
"So sexy."
"Any man would die to have this for even one night. — M. Leighton

Partly James was jealous because he was a virgin, but mostly it just felt really weird being in a room with two people who'd spent the night having sex. It reminded him of the feeling you get when you pull a hair off your tongue and realise it's not one of your own. — Robert Muchamore

Founders Day tradition dictated a peck on the cheek, but Travis had never been a follower. He lowered his head and took advantage of her surprise. Her lips were soft as a rose petal and just as pliable. He'd meant it to be a quick, comforting brushing of lips, but then she responded. Just the faintest movement. The yielding lit a fire in his belly that wouldn't be extinguished anytime soon. He went back for seconds. I've missed you so much. He took her face in his hands, wanted to thread his fingers through that long thick hair and pull her closer. But then two palms planted into his chest and pushed hard. Her eyes spat sparks. She dragged the back of her hand across her lips as if wiping the kiss away. Won't be as easy as that, darlin'. — Denise Hunter

I want Prince Charming to ride up on a white horse and carry me off to his castle. The only difference between me and other girls is once I get there, I want him to bend me over the throne and pull my hair while he fucks me hard and calls me names. — Stylo Fantome

Don't ever leave me again," I said in a tiny voice.
I won't," he promised into my hair, sounding most un-Fang-like. "I won't. Not ever."
And just like that, a cold shard of ice that had been inside my chest ever since we'd split up-well, it just disappeared. I felt myself relax for the first time in I don't known how long. The wind was chilly, but the sun was bright, and my whole flock was together. Fang and I were together.
Excuse me? I'm alive too." Iggy's plaintive voice made me pull back. — James Patterson

Shelley, you think she'll take me back?" Alex asks her, his hair dangerously close to her fingers. She doesn't pull his hair . . . just pats his head gently. I feel the tears running down my cheeks at full speed.
"Yeah!" Shelley yells with a goofy, gummy grin. She looks happier and more content than she's been in a long time. Both of my favorite people are with me right here; what more could I ask for? — Simone Elkeles

Brishen tried to pull her close, but she danced out his reach. "You'll muss my hair, and Sinhue will string you up by your guts if you ruin all her hard work. I'm terrified of even sneezing in case I do something to it and suffer the same death."

Brishen scowled, his expression both exasperated and puzzled. "Just wear a hat."

She refused to dignify the ridiculous suggestion with a reply. Men. — Grace Draven

I have the weirdest job. The hair and makeup people were talking the other day about how weird their job is. And costumes, they have to be in people's faces and have to reach in their skirts to pull their shirts down and stuff. I was like, "You guys, I meet someone, I shake their hand, and then I kiss them. And sober. During midday. For money." — Mary Elizabeth Ellis

Kissing Amber was like falling into the sea: Her body surrendered to the pull of the tide, buoyed by the saltwater, every breath tasting like the ocean. Reese lost all sense of where the surface was. All there was, was this. Amber's lips, her tongue, her hands stroking back Reese's hair, curling around her head and holding her steady. If their first kiss had been a bit awkward, that was gone now. — Malinda Lo

The only thing I'll be bending is you over this countertop. I plan to rip your panties off, pull your hair, and fuck you hard. — Brooke Cumberland

Normally, I'm a grumpy old man - whenever I read about celebrity, I start to grind my teeth and pull my hair; it seems synonymous with idiocy. — Mal Peet

Could become like that, I thought suddenly. If I did not guard against it, I too could become like the doomed birds in the dovecote. Like lovely, dead-eyed Caroline, with her hair turning white from worry at twenty-five. For if the dovecote was a trap, then so was Greywethers, and my uncle's hand held the rope that could pull shut the door and bar my flight. — Susanna Kearsley

Again, I whisper.
The corner of his mouth lifts, and then I kiss him. Not so gently this time. His hands drop from my face and grab my waist and pull me to him. A small soft groan excapes him, and that noise makes me feel absolutely crazy. I lose it. I wind my hands around his neck and kiss him without holding anything back. I can feel his heart thundering like mine, his breath coming faster, his arms tightening around me.
And then I can feel what he feels. He's waited for this moment. He loves how I feel in his arms. He loves the smell of my hair. He loves the way I looked at him just now, flushed and wanting more from him. He loves the color of my lips and now the taste of my mouth is making his knees feel weak and he doesn't want to seem weak in front of me. So i draw back, and his breath comes out in a rush. His arms drop away from me. — Cynthia Hand

He clasped her fingers, not so she could pull him up but clearly because he wanted to touch them. She wanted it too, way too much, and then he stood there right in front of her, the abyss beside them, and she could smell his skin and his hair, and let go of his hand, even though she secretly wanted something quite different. — Kai Meyer

My best friend Zoe has a perfect rear end and stick legs, and long, silky black hair. She is obviously not descended from William Penn. There are no dowdy pilgrims in her ancestry. Whereas I am grounded and mired in this place, she's like milkweed fluff that will take off with the first strong breeze. Stronger than fluff, though. She's like a bullet just waiting for someone to pull the trigger. — Wendy Wunder

I want to soothe him, want to stroke his cheek and run my fingers through his hair. I want to pull his head to my breast and whisper soft words, and I want to make love to him slowly and sweetly until the shadows of the night are gone and the morning light bathes us in color. — J. Kenner

That's it," I whispered, feeling Zeke gently take my hand. "That's all we can do. I hope it works."
Zeke pulled me to him, wrapping his arms around me. "He's strong," he murmured into my hair. "If anyone can pull through this, it will be him."
"You two do realize I can hear you, right?"
I felt like laughing and crying at the same time. — Julie Kagawa

It looked like she held a basketful of woven gold.
Arin leap down the stairs. He strode up to his cousin and seized her arm.
"Arin!"
"What did you do?"
Sarsine jerked away. "What she wanted. Pull yourself together."
But Arin only saw Kestrel as she had been last night before the ball. How her hair had been a spill of low light over his palms. He had threaded desire into those braids, had wanted her to sense it even as he dreaded that she would. He had met her eyes in the mirror, and didn't know, couldn't tell her feelings. He only knew the fire of his own.
"It's just hair," Sarsine said. "It will grow back."
"Yes," said Arin, "but no everything does. — Marie Rutkoski

You're so beautiful to me," he says against my mouth.
I pull back to look him in the eyes. "To you?"
He often says that, and part of me wonders if others have said something contrary to him.
"To me." His fingers trace the curve of my shoulder, brushing a lock of hair over it. "When we're together, it's just you and me. No one else exists. — Kristen Callihan

No, it didn't hurt. He didn't want to lose any black hair, and he was careful to pull out the white hairs one by one. But when he had finished, the skin was drawn and shriveled. It hurt when you ran your hand over it, the doctor said. It didn't bleed, but it was raw and red. Finally he was put in a mental hospital ... He didn't want to be old, he wanted to be young again. No one seems to know whether he started pulling it out because he had lost his mind, or he lost his mind because he pulled out too much. — Yasunari Kawabata

We kiss for a long time, a good long time. I don't even notice that it's cold and I forget to be afraid because that's just how good a kisser he is. His lips move above my lips. My lips ache for the touch of him, the softness of his skin. We keep kissing. My hands wrap themselves in his hair. His hand presses me close into him, as close as I can be against him, and he is solid, strong, amazing. My hands leave his hair and journey down to the sides of his face, still tingling.
"We should keep going," he says, voice gruff and husky again. I love when his voice sounds like that, deeper than normal. His lips puff out a little more, too. "You're blushing."
I pull my lips in against each other like I'm still trying to taste him. I move my snowshoes off of his snowshoes. It's tricky.
"You're a good kisser," I say.
"So are you. — Carrie Jones

So my life and the life of my family has been completely disrupted in absolutely every way. But it's been worth it. It's uncovered a vast cesspool of illegitimate economic and political power in which the Church is immersed right up to its ears, and I intend to dive in headfirst and pull it out of there dripping wet for all the world to see
no matter how long it takes, no matter whose feet get stepped on in the process, no matter how much it costs, no matter how great the personal sacrifice. — Madalyn Murray O'Hair

I remember there was actually a sexual thrill ... you hear that little pop and pull their heads of and hold their heads up by the hair. Whipping their heads off, their body sitting there. That'd get me off. — Edmund Kemper

There are so many things that can go wrong while performing. I've had violin strings break; I've had pants that were slowly falling down, and I'd have to pull them up in between every song; my hairpiece was falling out, so a big chunk of hair was just flapping around as I danced, and I've completely fallen on my butt. — Lindsey Stirling

When he squirmed away from her, I felt the strangest mix of emotions. First, I wanted to jump into Joshua's arms and give him a series of grateful kisses - rewards for his apparent disinterest in her. Next, I wished I was substantial enough to tackle this stranger and pull out her pretty hair — Tara Hudson

Even Proust - there's a famous passage where Odette opens the door with a cold, she's sulky, her hair is loose and undone, her skin is patchy, and Swann, who has never cared about her until that moment, falls in love with her because she looks like a Botticelli girl from a slightly damaged fresco. Which Proust himself only knew from a reproduction. He never saw the original, in the Sistine Chapel. But even so - the whole novel is in some ways about that moment. And the damage is part of the attraction, the painting's blotchy cheeks. Even through a copy Proust was able to re-dream that image, re-shape reality with it, pull something all his own from it into the world. Because - the line of beauty is the line of beauty. It doesn't matter if it's been through the Xerox machine a hundred times. — Donna Tartt

If I could, I would take you with me," he said, his voice barely more than a whisper.
She tried to pull away from him. "You would not. You would grow tired of me in a few weeks."
He shook his head, pulling her tight against him. "No ... I could never grow tired of you."
"How can you be so sure?" she asked.
He brushed tendrils of hair from her face. "I have craved to know you for years ... even just to hear you speak my name ... a single touch of your hand on mine ... "
He kissed her softly, his lips tasting hers. "I want you to be mine ... I want you always."
- 'unknown script' 2012 — Faye Hall

You have cheese in your hair," Kit says. "Right there." He motions to the spot. I don't pull it out. Let the cheese have my hair. — Tarryn Fisher

Although Genesis didn't deepen their kiss or steal his own taste, he did lick his own lips, taking the taste of Curtis off his lips and into his mouth. With their lips still barely touching, Genesis murmured, "You are a little bad boy, aren't you?" Genesis brought his hand up and brushed a lock of hair behind Curtis' ear. "A very pretty bad boy." Genesis gave him another soft kiss, and Curtis swore he was in heaven. "You said we're supposed to be good. You have to stop touching me like that." Curtis panted. "I don't know how," Genesis whispered almost painfully. Leaning back in and kissing Curtis again. "Well, like brother like brother, huh?" Day's sarcastic voice killed their moment as he sauntered into the room without knocking. "Better pull back, Casanova, 'my two dads' are right behind me." Genesis — A.E. Via

If You're Gonna Ride My Ass, At Least Pull My Hair! — S.C. Stephens

People will be jealous of you for anything. Do bad and they will be jealous of you for being bad, do good and they will be jealous of you for being good, pull yourself up out of the ashes and they will be jealous of your strength, work hard and succeed and they will be jealous of your perseverance, buy new shoes and people will want to steal them, grow your hair long and people with want to cut it, laugh out loud and people will be jealous of your reasons for laughing. The truth is that envy is not because of you; but envy is in the eye of the beholder! — C. JoyBell C.

I like hair each and every way. I like to give scalp massages - to pull and tug on it. But my favorite style is long, real hair in a dusty blonde-brown color. — Trey Songz

EJ cries, "We've been best friends since kindergarten. You can't become a babe slayer and leave me in the dust! I don't have an older sister. I'm disadvantaged. All I got is Emmy, who can only drop preschool wisdom like, 'No pull Barbie's hair!'"
"That's probably some early girl wisdom. Nobody likes to get their hair pulled," I say. "Except this one chick in my porno; I think she's into it. I cant really tell, though. I wish they would slow down. — Brent Crawford

I'm constantly embarrassed. I fidget and twist my hair and pull weird faces and stutter. Some days I feel quite confident, then others there's a microscopic flaw about myself physically, which will make me embarrassed to walk the streets. — Graham Coxon

I hated Chris, my brother. I would pull his hair and kick him, until one day my father gave him permission to fight back. I'll be apologizing to him for the rest of my life. — Stevie Nicks

I scurry out to the three-way mirror. With an extra-large sweatshirt over the top, you can hardly tell that they are Effert's jeans. Still no Mom. I adjust the mirror so I can see reflections of reflections, miles and miles of me and my new jeans. I hook my hair behind my ears. I should have washed it. My face is dirty. I lean into the mirror. Eyes after eyes after eyes stare back at me. Am I in there somewhere? A thousand eyes blink. No makeup. Dark circles. I pull the side flaps of the mirror in closer, folding myself into the looking glass and blocking out the rest of the store. My face becomes a Picasso sketch, my body slicing into dissecting cubes. I saw a movie once where a woman was burned over eighty percent of her body and they had to wash all the dead skin off. They wrapped her in bandages, kept her drugged, and waited for skin grafts. They actually sewed her into a new skin. — Laurie Halse Anderson

When I say you're a distraction, I mean I can't get you out of my fucking head. I wonder what the inside of your mouth tastes like and if you'd pull my hair when I go down on you. — Ainsley Booth

I haven't had a lot of good, soft things in my life," he said against my forehead. "Not since my family sent me away. Apart from being your sire and feeling that pull to you, it's that goodness, that softness and warmth, along with the resolve and strength in you, that I love. Being turned hasn't taken that from you. If someone were going to design the perfect mate for me, it would be you. Even when you infuriate me with your pigheaded stubbornness and your temper and incredible lack of anything resembling self-preservation - "
"Stop describing me please."
"You're the most fascinating, maddening, adorable creature I've ever met," he said, sighing and pushing my hair out of my eyes. "So, when I seem possessive or I'm raving like a lunatic, it's just that part of me is still very afraid that I'll lose that - that I'll lose you. I love you. — Molly Harper

Helplessness and anger make for predictable behavior: Children are certain to shove each other and pull hair, teenagers will call each other names and cry, and grown women who are sisters will say words so cruel that each syllable will take on the form of a snake, although such a snake often circles in on itself to eat its own tail once the words are said aloud. — Alice Hoffman

If Candy doesn't do it for her, I bet Mrs. Marvin Housby would like the smooth ride of your Woody."
"You're going to get your ass handed to you later. I'm still pissed about you snapping my glasses. Don't even get me started on you pimping me to the blue-hair."
Jillian popped the caps off two bottles of beer, the handed one to Jackson. "I like her. I bet she's a real cougar."
Jackson took a long pull. "I don't know. The whiskers on her chin bear greater resemblance to a wild boar than a cougar. — Jewel E. Ann

He drew his chair closer and reached for her hand. "Kate, look at me," he said. Her chin was still pointing down, but her eyes came up to meet his. Her expression nearly drove the breath from him. How could she wear her feelings so openly and still function? "So now you know. I've never let myself get close to a woman because I'm not a good long-term bet. But I care for you. I've always cared for you." Without asking permission, he reached up behind her neck to stroke the heavy coil of her hair. He leaned forward, giving her plenty of time to pull away if she chose. She didn't. He kissed her softly on the mouth. Nothing had ever felt more right or natural than kissing Kate, and she didn't pull away from him. She leaned toward him and kissed him back. — Elizabeth Camden

The Ill Wind Promises"

When the oscillator hums, I'll hold your hand
When they come to get you, I'll pull you aside
When the engine purrs, I'll find the right words
When the music stops, your lips may have to part

When your baby's born, I'll carry his name
When your mother visits, I'll hide in your bed
When your husband comes by, I'll turn up the music
When the party's over, I'll hand you your handbag

When you kiss me, I'll stick a hand in your pocket
When your lover calls, I'll braid your hair
When they come to get you, I'll talk nonsense
When you're dead and gone, I'll smoke a cigarette — Ann Cotten

isn't a hair, you can't just pull it out. And no ritual can make it stick. Why cry over it? Who — Svetlana Alexievich

Jost's lips crush into mine, and I reach out without thinking and pull him closer against me. My hand tangles in his hair, and the web shimmers around us. The rest of the world is perfectly still, but we are in motion, crumbling into one another. — Gennifer Albin

I have one promise I can make you, Kate." He reached for her hair, coiled some of it around his hand, and used it to pull her toward him.
"What's that?" she whispered breathlessly. Not so cocky now.
"You're going to enjoy this. — Jackie Braun

(Kate) had found multiple titles by individual authors scattered willy-nilly through the collection. It made her want to pull her hair out. Obviously!- an individual author's body of work all belonged on one shelf, the works arranged, in turn, by whatever system was most suitable: by volume number, alphabetically by title, or by the year of publication, or, in case of playwrights, works grouped by genre- tragedies with tragedies, comedies with comedies, histories with histories, and so on. — Gaelen Foley

He is the most beautiful creature I have ever seen and it's not about his face, but the life force I can see in him. It's the smile and the pure promise of everything he has to offer. Like he's saying, 'Here I am world, are you ready for so much passion and beauty and goodness and love and every other word that should be in the dictionary under the word life?' Except this boy is dead, and the unnaturalness of it makes me want to pull my hair out with Tate and Narnie and Fitz and Jude's grief all combined. It makes me want to yell at the God that I wish I didn't believe in. For hogging him all to himself. I want to say, 'You greedy God. Give him back. I needed him here. — Melina Marchetta

We all have times when we go home at night and pull out our hair and feel misunderstood and lonely and like we're falling. I think the brain is such that there is always going to be something missing. — Jude Law

You deserve to be treated like the fucking warrior goddess you are - beautiful, strong, perfect. You deserve a man that can worship your body all night softly, then pull your hair back and fuck you till you scream out in release, over and over. You deserve an equal in life, but a man to dominate you in bed. You deserve the flowers and the fucks. — Jessica Florence