Quotes & Sayings About Pulling Hair

He grabs my hands and lifts them up in the air. I grip the railing on the top of the bed.
"Don't move those hands," he whispers into my nape. I nod and lick my lips. I'm on my tiptoes. My breath is catching and coming out spurts of rough air. His hands run down my arms. I shiver and pant. His lips brush the back of my neck. He sweeps my hair to one side, kissing down my shoulder blade. Heat and nerves battle low in my belly as his hands grip my hips, pulling me back to him.
"Don't let go of that railing, Sarah." His words are growled between kisses and licks. I hear the menacing threat in them. — Tara Brown

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

But I can't leave, not yet. I'll stay with her until sunrise. If I brace my feet, I won't slide. I can rest my cheek on the roof tile and still see her. Pacing. Pulling her hair.
"I'll fix you," I tell her. "I promise."
Even though I don't know how.
It's better than good-bye. — Pam Bachorz

I'm tugging at my hair. I'm pulling at my clothes. I'm trying to keep my cool, I know it shows. I'm staring at my feet. My cheeks are turning red. I'm searching for the words inside my head. I'm feeling nervous trying to be perfect, 'cause I know you're worth it. — Avril Lavigne

Well, don't you look lovely," his voice dripped behind me, his breath tickling my ear as his words trickled in my brain.
Turning slowly, I saw him in his usual attire, a white t-shirt and jeans, but he looked incredible. His dark hair appeared darker in the dimmed lighting, his eyes shone with eagerness.
"You're here," I said dumbly. Like he didn't know he was here. I was such an idiot sometimes.
"I am," he said, a sexy smirk showing on one side of his mouth. "Wanna dance?" he asked, his leg shaking nervously, his eyes desperately searching mine for an answer.
I nodded, unable to speak. We'd kised, but only a couple of times. He grabbed me, pulling me to a spot close to where we stood. Warm fingers of one hand circled around my waist, while the others held my had. He pulled me close, every inch of our bodies touching. His eyes never left mine as we swayed and spun. I was lost in all that was Cade Kelling. — Felicia Tatum

He spent the next weeks blocking scenes of the bureaucrat fucking his wife. On the floor with cooking ingredients. Standing, with socks still on. In the grass of the yard of their new and immense house. He imagined her making noises she never made for him and feeling pleasures he could never provide because the bureaucrat was a man, and he was not a man. Does she suck his penis? he wondered. I know this is a silly thought, a thought that will only bring me pain, but I can't free myself of it. And when she sucks his penis, because she must, what is he doing? Is he pulling her hair back to watch? Is he touching her chest? Is he thinking of someone else? I'll kill him if he is. — Jonathan Safran Foer

( ... ) she knew this: She was falling for this girl, this beautiful, beautiful girl, and she wanted to fall. She wanted to leap right now, arms spread wide, gravity pulling her down, the wind tearing at her hair. She didn't care if she crashed, as long as Amber crashed with her. — Malinda Lo

Come here into the warmth," he said easily. He reached for her, taking her hand and pulling her toward him. "I've been waiting for you." He stroked her hair, shifting a bit to let the light fall on her. "For a very long time."
She, too, reached for him, following a line in the air along the length of the forming scar that marred his chest. A corona flared around him until she moved past the point where the sunlight hit her eyes. She stared at his chest, at the gashed and ill-healed flesh, and he, seeing her attention, took her hand and brought her fingers to his mouth. She felt the warmth of his breath, the pressure of his lips, soft and warm. "I wish you had never been wounded," she said. "Even though it brought you home to me. — Carolyn Jewel

It's always something here - if there isn't a riot, then someone's usually trying to escape. The wasted effort helps me see the positives of imprisonment. Unlike those pulling their hair out in good society, here we don't have to feel ashamed of our day-to-day unhappiness. Here we have someone visible to blame - someone wearing shiny boots. That's why, on consideration, freedom leaves me cold. Because out there in the real world, freedom means you have to admit authorship, even when your story turns out to be a real stinker. — Steve Toltz

I got kicked out of a club for sticking up for my sister. And I got into a fight that was basically hair pulling and rolling around on the gym floor. The fights make me sound like a hell-raiser, but I'm not proud of them. — Nadine Velazquez

It's wonderful when a kiss lives up to its promise. When hands fist on fabric, push off jackets, tug at and run through hair, grabbing and pulling and wanting to make the closeness that much closer. Everything all together, trying to spare a moment for breathing deep a lover's scent, surrendering that moment on the half-second to tasting his mouth, focusing on this and then on that, never stopping, never stilling. Pressing and curling your tongues together, knowing the calm will descend but never wanting that to happen. — Vee Hoffman

He shrugged and glanced at her hair. "Rough night?"

Her brows drew together. "What makes you say that?"

"Your bun is askew."

Audrey's fingers flew to her hair. Sure enough, it was lopsided and puffy on one side. "Damn it."

Reese set down the spoon and turned to her, reaching for her hair. "Here, I'll fix it for you."

She frowned but stood still, dropping her hands. "That's very domestic of you."

"Nah. I mostly wanted to see what this looks like when it's not in a grandma style." And he reached forward and snipped the band with a pair of scissors.

She yelped, pulling away even as he ran his fingers through her hair, making it puff out into a halo around her head. "You a**hole!"

"Look at that! All that loose, untamed hair!" He teased, even as he tried to run his fingers through it again. "It's like you're a wild woman. What will people think? — Jessica Clare

It was impossible to expect a moral awakening from humankind itself, just like it was impossible to expect humans to lift off the earth by pulling up on their own hair. To achieve moral awakening required a force outside the human race. — Liu Cixin

I thoroughly believe in crying, yelling, pulling my hair out, and experiencing heartache, BUT once I'm done I dissect the pain and learn lessons from it. — Lilly Singh

God pulled back and gripped a handful of Day's hair, pulling so that he was looking up at him. God bent down and gently grazed his soft lips across his. Day's body vibrated from the sensual feeling. God rubbed his face all over Day's as if he were a cat marking him with his scent. God's grip tightened in his hair and he moaned again. Day could feel God's body trembling and Day didn't know at that moment if the shaking was from residual fear or need, so he didn't move as he let his lover do what he needed to do. God — A.E. Via

If I was pulling your hair, you'd be too busy screaming my name, and I'd be too deep inside you for you to run anyway." Darkest Sin — Mandy Harbin

In front of us, Annabelle and Aspen argue over whether black-and-white movies are amazing or archaic. Blue walks a few feet behind like he's waiting for the pair to transition from verbal zingers to hair pulling. He wants a front-row seat for that show, and I don't blame him. — Victoria Scott

He made a mental note to tell that to Tom as the man half collapsed on him for a few moments. He reached up, ran a hand through Tom's sweat-soaked hair, yanking him down hard for a kiss. Tom's tongue claimed his mouth, his way of telling Prophet that it wasn't over, not until Tom said so. And no, he wasn't stopping. The rest of it was a blur, with Tom pulling out, turning Prophet onto his back, taking his time licking, sucking, not leaving any of Prophet's skin untouched. And Prophet was patient enough to allow it, the haze of orgasms softening him for the moment. That — S.E. Jakes

You don't have to say it out loud. I already know why you like me.'
'You do, huh?'
'Yep.'
He wrapped his arms around my waist, pulling me closer. 'So,' I said. 'Tell me'
'It's an animal attraction,' he said simply. 'Totally chemical.'
'Hmm,' I said. 'You could be right.'
'It doesn't matter, anyway, why you like me.'
'No?'
'Nope.' His hands were in my hair now, and I was leaning in, not able to totally make out his face, but his voice was clear, close to my ear. 'Just that you do. — Sarah Dessen

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

Finally our eyes held each other.
Don't kiss him.
"I was worried," he said, slowly pulling himself off the bed frame, leaning forward. His face was so close to mine in the quiet morning. My heart faltered once before catching a new rhythm, faster than before. Sebastian's dark hair had never looked so careless and my fingers itched to return to the inky strands. His eyes were the softest mossy green, and I was sure that all his usual awkward reserve had melted in this strange dawn. When I realized that his eyes were glued to my lips, I instinctively parted them, sucking in a fast breath.
Don't you dare kiss him, Evelyn.
He was so close I could have counted the strands of gold that gleamed in the green of his eyes. I could have shifted forward one breath and his lips would be on mine. I was dizzy, lost in the world that existed here between us. — Tarun Shanker

The mayor informed General Petronio San Roman of the episode, down to the last literal phrase, in an alarming telegram. General San Roman must have followed his son's wishes to the letter, because he didn't come for him, but sent his wife with their daughters and two other older women who seemed to be her sisters. They came on a cargo boat, locked in mourning up to their necks because of Bayardo San Roman's misfortunes, and with their hair hanging loose in grief. Before stepping onto land, they took off their shoes and went barefoot through the streets up to the hilltop in the burning dust of noon, pulling out strands of hair by the roots and wailing loudly with such high-pitched shrieks that they seemed to be shouts of joy. I watched them pass from Magdalena Oliver's balcony, and I remember thinking that distress like theirs could only be put on in order to hide other, greater shames. — Gabriel Garcia Marquez

The associates are the Cro-Magnon men. They live in caves, have trouble walking upright, and have a lot of hair on their backs. Usually, they communicate by grunting. Those are the associates. Finally, there are the analysts. Monkeys. Tons and tons of little monkeys. Not humans, just monkeys crawling all over each other and pulling lice out of each other's fur. Those are the analysts. — John Rolfe

He grabbed me with both hands and began pushing me backward.
I lost my balance. The ledge was at an angle, and it was covered with loose gravel. I was less than a foot from the edge.
It was at that very moment that the clouds parted. The September sun burst through. The entire world was illuminated.
Time shattered into moments.
I could see for a hundred miles in every direction.
I could see mountain peeks and pristine lakes. And I could somehow feel as well as see the never-ending drop that toyed with me, ruffling my hair, pulling at my back, one step behind me. — Axel Avian

He runs his hands up my back and into my hair, pulling me closer. I lose myself in the feel of his body against mine and the way his soft lips coax mine to life. Almost without thinking, I wrap my arms around his warm waist. — Dannielle Wicks

Where are you going?"
He looked over his shoulder at me. "If I stay, you won't get any sleep."
"Stay," I said. "I promise to keep my hands to myself." Lie - such an outright lie.
He gave me a half smile that told me he knew it, too, but nestled down, tugging me into his arms. I wrapped an arm around his waist and rested my head in the hollow of his shoulder.
He idly stroked my hair. I didn't want to sleep - didn't want to lose a minute with him - but an immense exhaustion was pulling me away from consciousness, until all I knew was the touch of his fingers in my hair and the sounds of his breathing. — Sarah J. Maas

Are you sure you're not too tired?" Taylor taunted, lacing her fingers through his hair and pulling him between her legs. "Although you do seem to have a lot of energy for a thirty-nine-year-old."
Jason grabbed her by the back of the neck, pulling her mouth to his. "Thirty-eight, smart-ass. I have a December birthday. — Julie James

In regard to leaving, your options are
limited. Dismemberment is one, but I have a hard time imagining you hacking Cerdewellyn into
pieces, even if you had the strength. Bone is ... difficult.
She ran her hands through her hair, feeling nervous. Yeah, that's what's keeping me from
dismembering him, pulling a muscle as I cut through bone. — Caroline Hanson

On the red carpet, I'm playing a character. As soon as I get off that thing, I think, 'Oof, wipe that gloss off.' I'm wiping and wiping and pulling my hair out and trying to change my outfit. I'm immediately trying to get comfortable. It's really a part I play. — Jessica Biel

Amber emerged from behind the screen. But it was not Amber who stood before her. Instead, it was a smudge-faced slave girl. A tattoo sprawled across one wind-reddened cheek. A crusty sore encompassed half her upper lip and her left nostril. Her dirty hair was pulling free from a scruffy braid. Her shirt was rough cotton and her bare feet peeked out from under her patched skirts. A dirty bandage bound one of her ankles. Rough canvas work gloves had replaced the lacy ones Amber habitually wore. — Robin Hobb

Slowly, slowly pulling up. Or grabbing hold of Debby's arm, vise-like, for an Indian rub and what starts as a joke gets more and more frantic, him rubbing until he draws speckles of blood, his teeth grinding. She could see him getting that same look Runner got when he was around the kids: jacked up and tense. "Dad needs to leave." "Geez, Patty, not even a hi before you toss me out? Come on, let's talk, I got a business proposition for you." "I'm in no position to make a business deal, Runner," she said. "I'm broke." "You're never as broke as you say," he said with a leer, and twisted his baseball cap backward on stringy hair. He'd meant it to sound jokey, but it came out menacing, as if she'd better not be broke if she knew what was good for her. He dumped the girls off him and walked over to her, standing too close as always, beer sweat sticking his longjohn shirt to his chest. "Didn't you just sell the tiller, Patty? Vern Evelee told — Gillian Flynn

Fang! Come Back!" I started pulling his hair. Shaking his head and shoulders. Hard. "Wake up! Snap out of it! You stupid jerk! I am going to kill you if you die on me! — James Patterson

Listen to Your Lover (Or Babe, Sweetie Cakes, Hot Rod, Honey, Dancing Queen, Dairy Queen, etc.)
If she tells you she likes it when you bite her neck - do it! It doesn't matter where she learned that she likes it or why she does, just be thankful you got the tip. Girls don't always express what they want, so when she does say it, you really want to make sure you are paying attention. Also, learn her language (unless it is Mandarin, because that shit is impossible). If you start pulling her hair and she starts moaning, that's her way of saying, "Ohmygod, please do this more, and by more I mean all the time." And the more you please her, the more she'll want to do it with you. It's a win-win! — Olivia Munn

I stood in the doorway and watched Dennis unbuttoning the blouse, pulling long shirttails out of her skirt and wetting her hair with his hands, letting hairspray clump together in long strands. Ruined like that, in front of me. It was hard to watch because it was so clean, so perfect.

The glow from the television screen crawls over their faces and it's hard to convince yourself they are breathing, living things. — Laurie Perez

I went to a girls' school, and it was awful. The combination of my teenage anger and their jealousy meant I was always getting into fights. There was a lot of pulling of hair and scratching of faces and rolling around on the floor. — Nadine Velazquez

Maybe the first time you saw her you were ten. She was standing in the sun scratching her legs. Or tracing letters in the dirt with a stick. Her hair was being pulled. Or she was pulling someone's hair. And a part of you was drawn to her, and a part of you resisted
wanting to ride off on your bicycle, kick a stone, remain uncomplicated. In the same breath you felt the strength of a man, and a self-pity that made you feel small and hurt. Part of you thought: Please don't look at me. If you don't, I can still turn away. And part of you thought: Look at me. — Nicole Krauss

Still half asleep and groggy, Kat squinted up through the shadows of the tiny space and into Hale's eyes. It was the closest they'd been in weeks. Whatever had stood between them was lost in the shadows, and Kat felt Hale's mouth press against hers. His fingers wove into her hair, holding her close, gripping her tightly. It was the hungriest kiss she'd ever known, and Kat let herself get lost in it. Forget. Tell herself that there was nothing they couldn't do as long as they were together.
But, then again, they were currently trapped in a closet on the thirty-seventh floor of a well-secured high-rise in the middle of the night, so perhaps her judgment was lacking.
"Sorry," Hale said, breaking the kiss and pulling away. — Ally Carter

But those moments aboard the maglev had caused more than one sleepless night since coming aboard the Rampion. When she had lain awake and imagined slipping out of her bed. Creeping across the corridor to Wolf's room. Not saying a word when he opened the door, just pulling herself against him. Curling her hands into his hair. Wrapping herself up in the sort of security that she'd only ever found in his arms. She — Marissa Meyer

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

Gods know about fading. They know about being forgotten over centuries. The idea of ceasing to exist altogether terrifies us. In fact- well, Zeus would not like me sharing this information, and if you tell anyone, I will deny I ever said it-but the truth is we gods are a little in awe of you mortals. You spend your whole lives knowing you will die. No matter how many friends and relatives you have, your puny existences will quickly be forgotten. How do you cope with it? Why are you not running around constantly screaming and pulling your hair out? Your bravery, I must admit, is quite admirable. — Rick Riordan

I don't know what I like most about you," he says conversationally as he methodically begins to undo my braid. His fingers sift through my hair, gently tugging and pulling, and it feels so good that my eyelids waver. Unable to help myself, I lean into him. "Your hair, your freckles or that fucking mouth of yours. — Monica Murphy

A little present from my run-in with a sword. Or should I say from when the sword had a run-in with me?" His eyes lit up.
"Want to see the scar? It's cool." He started pulling his shirt out of his pants.
"Janco," Ari warned. "We're not supposed to be fraternizing with the Sitians."
"But she's not Sitian. Right, Yelena? You haven't gone south on us, have you?" Janco's voice held mock horror.
"Because if you have I can't give you your present."
I took my switchblade out, showing the inscription to Janco. "What about 'Sieges weathered, fight together, friends forever'? Does that change if I become an official southerner?"
Janco rubbed the hair on his chin, considering.
"No," Ari said. "You could change into a goat and it would still apply. — Maria V. Snyder

Basically, Elise, this is one of those cases. It's like when you bend down to pick a bit of hair out the plughole, and it yanks up more hair after it, and so you keep pulling, and you start thinking 'Shit, how much of this stuff is there?' And eventually your whole drain is clogged, and you've spent sixty quid on sink and plughole unblocker, and all you've got to show for it is twenty handfuls of goopy crap."

Elise tilted her head slightly. "I fear that analogy may have run away with you. — Alexis Hall

When I'm not working, I'm on the road with my band. Or I'm performing in poetry houses doing spoken work. So I've got another passion and another outlet that allows me to be creatively fulfilled and not sitting at home pulling my hair out waiting for the right role to come along. — Malcolm-Jamal Warner

He climbed into the bed behind her and spooned his body to hers, pulling the covers up over them both. "Sleep, sweetheart." Brushing her tangled hair off her face, he whispered a promise against her ear. "You're safe. — Julie Miller

He made quick work of undoing Syn's belt and dropping his pants and briefs to his ankles. Furi took Syn's length all the way to the back of his throat and held him there. "Augh. Furious!" Syn yelled, grasping at Furi's shoulders. Furi had to take the edge off for his lover and then he had to get to work. And he had to take care of himself too, since his dick was just as hard and aching. Syn fucked Furi's mouth while he unbuttoned his jumpsuit and anxiously dug inside his jeans, pulling himself free. He moaned deep in his throat at the first contact of cool air on his hot dick. No doubt the vibration drove Syn crazy because he grasped Furi's hair and started slamming his cock in and out, the rhythm of his hips already faltering. "Gonna — A.E. Via

Tamani looked at her gravely, and reached up to tuck her hair behind her ear.
He hesitated for an instant, then his hands found the sides of her face, pulling her to him. He didn't kiss her, just held her face close to his, their foreheads resting together, their noses almost touching.
She hated how much it felt like good-bye. — Aprilynne Pike

I finally know what to wish for."
Puzzled, she gazed down at him while the long locks of her hair trailed over his chest and shoulders. "What?"
"The wishing well," he reminded her.
"Oh, yes ... " Lottie lowered her face to his chest and nuzzled the soft fur, recalling that morning in the forest. "You wouldn't make a wish."
"Because I didn't know what I wanted. And now I do."
"What do you want?" she asked tenderly.
His hand slipped behind her head, pulling her mouth down to his. "To love you forever," he whispered just before their lips met.
-Nick & Lottie — Lisa Kleypas

Sometimes I feel like tap-dancing, screeching, unscrewing light bulbs, pulling curtains, combing hair, doing knee bends, handstands and turning somersaults out there. — Ilie Nastase

What do you know?" I wonder, pulling Daisy's sweaty hair out of her face. Ryke gives me a solid glare. "You masturbate too much. — Krista Ritchie

Felicity was in the process of unpacking her valise on the bed. "Then let us make sure no one else makes that mistake," she said, pulling out ribbons and laces, a set of fancy hair combs and a few cosmetic pots. "Nanny Tasha always said a lady's age should be a mystery." Miranda closed her eyes. Truly, she was starting to wonder about Lord Langley's choice of nannies for his daughters. Most of what the girls repeated from their dear caretakers sounded more like the advice of an experienced Cyprian, not that of a doting governess for small, impressionable children. Felicity — Elizabeth Boyle

The silence was like an unwelcome child, pulling at our hair, running its fingers over our lips. — Kat Zhang

He settled over me, not touching, not quite. The electricity between us snapped and pulled. A wild feeling pulsed through me. I lifted my hands, sinking them into his hair, pulling him closer. I swept my lips over his, and his body trembled. His fiery eyes drifted shut as my thumb moved on his bottom lip. My hands were on the move, slipping over the thick cords in his neck and back, around his chest and down. Lower, over the hard planes of his stomach. He sucked in a sharp breath. — Jennifer L. Armentrout

There was something pathetic about the rejected wife bravely pulling herself together, joining a tennis club, doing a photography course, cutting her hair, venturing timidly back out onto the single scene. — Liane Moriarty

At Imbolg, we always use a version of that in our ritual, with each person who wishes to pulling out three strands of hair by the roots and feeding them into a flame while putting themselves anew under the protection of Brighidh. — Lunaea Weatherstone

I remember being in Atlantic City once when I was 18 or 19, and a sea of people were screaming and pulling their hair because I was there. It was weird. Nobody deserves adulation like that. I tried to explain it to my kids once. I said, 'Mommy used to be kind of cool, kind of like a Britney Spears.' — Genie Francis

I gasp, and his mouth swoops down. He's kissing me, violently. Briefly our teeth clash, then his tongue is in my mouth.
Desire explodes like the Fourth of July throughout my body, and I'm kissing him back, matching his fervor, my hands knotting in his hair, pulling it, hard. He groans, a low sexy sound in the back of his throat that reverberates through me, and his hand moves down my body to the top of my thigh, his fingers digging into my flesh through the plum dress.
I pour all the angst and heartbreak of the last few days into our kiss, binding him to me, and it hits me - in this moment of blinding passion - he's doing the same, he feels the same. — E.L. James

Writing can be a splendid headache. Fun when words spill forth like a raging river and a catastrophic, hair-pulling experience when they won't. — Adam Santo

I'm going to possess you, Charlotte,"
His free hand caressed the flesh of her throat, then threaded into the hair at her nape, pulling the strands there, tipping her head back. Not harshly, but not gently either. "I;m going to take you and claim you and make you beg."
His lips were breaths from hers. Breaths she couldn't count or take.
"The question is, will you passively accept such, or will you possess me right back," he whispered, nearly against her lips. "Take me, claim me? Make me beg? Push from my mind any though that isn't you? — Anne Mallory

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

Jedediah pulled out his pocketknife, reached over her, and snipped the rose to place in her hair. "Looks better there." In the moonlight, he wasn't sure if she blushed or not. Her eyes seemed all soft and glowing, her lips the color of the pink rose, slightly parted and tempting him. Before he knew what he was doing, his arms had circled her in a swift embrace. Heat filled his face, and his heart pounded so hard he was sure Patience could hear it. Would she let him kiss her? But she was already pulling away, visibly shaken. Her fingers touched her hair, patting it into place, and her eyes, large with surprise, looked into his, then quickly away. "I . . . Jed . . . I think we'd better go back inside and join the party." "I'm - I'm truly sorry, Patience. I don't know . . . I'm not sure what came over me just now. It must be the moonlight and the roses." And you, he said only to himself. — Maggie Brendan

Different kinds of tired:

1. All day at the beach sleepy. Warm skin. Wet hair. Salt and sand and green-apple scented shampoo. Bed sheet tides pulling up and down stomach flips into mermaid dreams.

2. Milky tired. Early nights. Wondering if you are getting sick. Medicine light bones. Eyelids melting closed. Dizzy, dizzy, spinning into sleep.

3. Drowsy car rides. Soft radio buzz. Pillow on the window. Pulling on your seatbelt. Waking up and not knowing where you are. — Unknown

When you see deterioration in the skin or the hair, you are having problems with the subtle body. You're taking in too much bad energy, usually from people, or you're thinking too many negative thoughts. You are pulling an energy that is not suitable for the human form. — Frederick Lenz

My natural hair is short and naturally grows to frame my face. So that's my favorite. I also like tree-braids. They're easy, fast, there's not much pulling on your hair, and they are very lightweight. — Erica Ash

Do you ever think about the ocean?" Nick asked me.
"What about it?" I said.
"Like what could live down there? Like how there's as much life down there as up here? Maybe more?"
"God Lives Underwater," said someone. "That's the name of a band. They're awesome."
"But seriously," Nick said, "it's like an alternate universe. Right here on our own planet."
"Right here, a hundred feet from us," said Sheila.
"Right here in my hair," said one of the girls who had swum, pulling some sea gunk out of her wet hair.
Everyone laughed quietly at that. Nick drank his beer. The wood crackled as it burned. We all stared at the black ocean. — Blake Nelson

It's not you. It's me. Well, not me. It's someone... I just can't do this with you." Judge sounded like an idiot. "Since when?" Duke frowned. Since I fell in love and was too stupid to notice before I threw it away. "Judge." Duke walked up to him, pulling his fist from out of his hair. "There's someone else." Judge didn't answer. Duke took his silence for what it was. He looked hurt at first, then he looked surprised. He backed up from him and sat back in his own chair. "This guy must be amazing. — A.E. Via

What was she trying to do to him? Was this what being in love was supposed to feel like? Was it supposed to make him feel out of control? Was it supposed to rip him apart, pulling him in two opposite directions? Was it supposed to make him want to tear his hair out in frustration? If it was, he didn't need it. — Monica McCarty

After a long time, one small hand moved, slowly, tentatively, tracing the feathers falling around her, stroking the black slashes along one huge wing. She didn't ask where he'd gotten them, didn't ask why they mimicked the marks on his shoulder. She didn't ask, just kept running her soft fingers through the down, along the spines ...
"How long will they last?"
"A few hours," he said hoarsely. He should tell her, he thought, that the feathers weren't just a projection. That for the moment for however long the Irin's essence held out, they were an innate, physical part of him. And that her fingers stroking along the marks felt just like they once had, moving over his scars. He ought to tell her, ought to ask her to stop. It's what a gentleman would do, he knew that. But then he was half demon. And tonight, he thought maybe he'd just go with that.
"They're nice," she murmured, pulling one around her.
"Yes." One hand tightened in her thick soft hair. "Yes. — Karen Chance

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

Naomi shrugged with her hands, then started pulling her hair behind her head and tying it up with a red elastic band. — James S.A. Corey

He's on his knees.
I bite back the moan caught in my throat just before he lifts me up and carries me to the bed. He's on top of me in an instant, kissing me with a kind of intensity that makes me wonder why I haven't died or caught on fire or woken up from this dream yet. He's running his hands down my body only to bring them back up to my face and he kisses me once, twice, and his teeth catch my bottom lip for just a second and I'm clinging to him, wrapping my arms around his neck and running my hands through his hair and pulling him into me.
He tastes so sweet. So hot and so sweet and I keep trying to say his name but I can't even find the time to breathe, much less to say a single word. — Tahereh Mafi

(Second kiss)
Only a kiss?
It was staggering.
Her mind was lost to time and place, as if nothing existed beyond his divine mouth. He discarded her bonnet and tangled his fingers in her hair. She whimpered, clutching at his lapels, yet he refused to relent. Mercilessly, he intensified the kiss, pulling her so far in; submerging her in so much sensation
that Mary thought she would drown in the pleasure of it. — Victoria Vane

I wove my way between the tables, pulling my hair forward over my shoulders as I went.Alex was still sitting when I reached him.
"Hey.This was on the floor in the upstairs hall ... "
I stood behind his chair. Completely frozen.
I might have stood there for a very long time if he hadn't pushed himself away from the table to get up. The chair thumped me in the stomach first, then in the knees.I think I made a noise. I dropped his book.
"Oh.Oh,crap.I'm really sorry!" Alex jerked the chair out of the way and bent down a little. He had to, to see my face. "You okay?"
I did manage to nod.
"Seriously.I must have really pounded you there.You sure you're all right?"
"Yes,fine," I whispered.
Across the table, Chase Vere laughed. "Dude, she was,like, standing right behind you. — Melissa Jensen

She wraps her arms around my neck, pulling me in tight, and I swear I feel my soul brush against hers. I expand beyond the boundaries of Dylan's body, out until I am the waves crashing on the beach, the sun shining in her hair, the wind that sweeps over our skin. I am everything and nothing and exist only because this girl presses her heart to mine. — Stacey Jay

Modeling is a very hard job. I know that sounds like a really shallow thing to say, but you have people pulling on your hair all day, telling you what to do, fitting you, telling you to bend over, hitting you, taking your shoes off, throwing you up against a wall - it's a lot. You have to really be able to handle yourself and bring something. It's not just enough to have a cute body and jump up in the air and go, "wow!" — Kelly Cutrone

At the edge of the still, dark pool that was the sea, at the brimming edge of freedom where no boat was to be seen, she spoke the first words of the few they were to exchange. 'I cannot swim. You know it?"

In the dark she saw the flash of his smile. 'Trust me.' And he drew her with a strong hand until the green phosphorescence beaded her ankles, and deeper, and deeper, until the thick milk-warm water, almost unfelt, was up to her waist. She heard him swear feelingly to himself as the salt water searched out, discovered his burns. Then with a rustle she saw his pale head sink back into the quiet sea and at the same moment she was gripped and drawn after him, her face to the stars, drawn through the tides with the sea lapping like her lost hair at her cheeks, the drive of his body beneath her pulling them both from the shore. They were launched on the long journey towards the slim shape, black against glossy black, which was the brigantine, with Thompson on board. — Dorothy Dunnett

Really?" Claire said, and couldn't help but smile. "That's what creeps you out. Waxing. You can take on vampires and draug and killers, but you're afraid of a little chest-hair pulling? — Rachel Caine

Why can men no longer be best friends? This is so stupid. Today if you show two guys being best friends they end up giving out an image that they're gay. But guys don't always need to be drinking beer, fighting in pubs or pulling women by the hair. They may have a deep affection. — Henry Cavill

And who died and made you boss?" But I knew a lost cause when I saw it and was already pulling my hair back with nimble fingers.
Niko slapped a shoulder holster against my chest. "No one. Like all truly great dictators, I seized that power myself. Now finish up. We leave in five minutes. — Rob Thurman

I enjoy it and just smile through it. There are days where you're just pulling your hair out, but, at the end of the day, we are the luckiest people alive, doing what we do and loving our job as much as we do. Things don't get that much better. — Eleanor Tomlinson

Alessandro gathered her into his arms and flipped her over so that she was on top of him, her blonde hair falling over him like a gold curtain. The strands tickled his face as she righted herself over him. She caught her lower lip between her teeth as he pushed up inside of her, and Alessandro reached up, bringing her mouth down, wanting to taste that swollen lip. Her breath wafted over his face, and he grabbed her hips, pulling her down as he pushed up deeper, wanting to fill her to her very soul. — E. Jamie

Kate slid to her knees, pulling the child's head to her breast, her mouth in its hair. "Pippa. Pippa, we're awful fools. What Father means is that truly nothing we have ever done can harm us, and Mr. Crawford has mixed us up with someone else. But you know what unstable-looking parents you have. He doesn't believe us, but he says he'll believe you. It's not very flattering," said Kate, looking at her daughter with bright eyes, "but you seem to be the one in the family with an honest sort of face, and your father and I must just be thankful for it. Go over to him, darling. I'll be behind you. And just speak," she said with an edge like a razor. "Just speak as you would to the dog. — Dorothy Dunnett

Yeah, you like that? You like it when Big Papa gives you his hot and juicy wiener?" I pant, my hips hammering against her. Her fists yank my hair, pulling my head away from her neck so hard that I see stars. "Ow! What the fuck?" I complain as she gives me a dirty look. "You cannot say shit like that when we're fucking. You Just can't," she warns me, letting out a low groan when I shift my hips and grind my pubic bone against her clit.
"What's wrong with a little dirty talk? I thought you'd like it." "I like dirty talk. I LOVE dirty talk. What you're doing is not dirty talk. It's 'weird as fuck' talk. Repeat after me: I love fucking you, your pussy is so tight," Ava demands. (Well, damn, that was hot. I kind of wish I had a vagina right now). — Tara Sivec

Harry [Redknapp] is going to be literally, literally pulling his hair out. — John Scales

Blindly, I ran to Archer, who was sitting on one of the thick mats we'd used in Defense. His elbows rested on his raised knees, and he had his head in his hands. I knelt in front of him, awkwardly wrapping my arms around his neck. He uncurled himself, pulling me to him. For a long time, we held each other, my hands fisted in his hair; his, stroking my back.
"I'm okay," he said at last. "I know that's hard to believe, but nothing hurts. I mean, except for my mind and soul, but those were always a little broken." Gently, we disentangled ourselves and rose to our feet. "Your magic is awesome, man," he said to Cal, who I just realized was standing at the edge of the mat, next to Jenna. "Although I have to say, now that you've brought me back from the edge of death-what, like, hundreds of times?-I'm starting to feel like our relationship is a little unbalanced."
"You can buy me a burger when we get out of here," Cal said, and as usual, I had no idea if he was joking or not. — Rachel Hawkins

Mama read it an began pulling her hair an weepin an praisin the Lord, 'cause it say I am 'Temporarily Deferred' on account of I am a numbnuts. — Winston Groom

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

Was awakened abruptly just after dawn by a tiny stinging sensation on top of my head. I blinked and put up a hand to investigate. The movement startled a large gray jay who had been pulling hairs out of my head, and he shot up into a nearby pine tree, screeching hysterically. "Serve you right, mate," I muttered, rubbing the top of my head, but couldn't help smiling. I had been told often enough that my hair looked like a bird's nest first thing in the morning; perhaps there was something to it, after all. — Diana Gabaldon

He didn't say a word and she didn't ask anything else, just ran her fingers through his hair until his breathing began to calm. Without letting go of her or even pulling away to face her he finally whispered against her ear, "Please don't leave me. I promise I'll try harder." Slowly he pulled away and their eyes met. "I'm nothing without you, Izzy. — Elizabeth Reyes

My lady," says Aladdin, extending an arm toward the sun, "I give you gold as a token of my love."
"All I want is you," I reply. I turn and kiss him, pulling him against me, feeling the warmth of the dawn in my hair. Then I rest my head on his shoulder, simply feeling his arms around me, his heart beating against me.
"Are you cold?" asks Aladdin. "You're shivering."
"A little."
"I'll go get a blanket. And breakfast. If I can find the kitchen."
"Galley, love. It's called a galley."
"Right. Galley. Got it. I'll ask the captain. What was his name?"
"Sinbad, I think?"
"I'll be right back."
But I catch his hand. "I'm all right. Don't go yet."
He stays with me, and together we watch the sun stain the sea and sky a thousand and one shades of gold. My thumb rubs the ring on my finger, its dents and contours as familiar to me now as my hand.
So this is what it feels like to have all your wishes come true. — Jessica Khoury

The buzzer rang. Magnus pressed the button to let him enter, speechless for a moment because he had wanted Alec there, so badly, and here he was. It felt more like magic than anything he could do.
Then Alec was there, standing in the open doorway.
"I wanted to see you," said Alec with devastating simplicity. "Is this okay? I can go away if you're busy or anything."
It must have been raining a little outside. There were sparkling drops of water in Alec's messy black hair. He was wearing a hoodie that Magnus thought he might have found in a Dumpster, and sloppy jeans, and his whole face was lit up just because he was looking at Magnus.
"I think," said Magnus, pulling Alec in by the strings on his awful gray hoodie, "that I could be persuaded to clear my schedule. — Cassandra Clare

The trees like lungs filling with air
My sister, the mean one, pulling my hair — Jeffrey Eugenides

Ugh," she muttered, tugging his hair. "Your are so pretty. Like delicate butterfly beneath my boot."
"Ugh, " he replied, pulling one of her own curls, which were thick and coarse. "You are so mad. Like a rabid hound that needs to be put down. — Kiersten White

Fifty minutes, huh?" he muttered.
"Too long?" she managed with a teasing smile, knowing she longer had the strength to turn him away. She wanted Dalton to make love to her again. Needed him to.
He arched a brow. "You questioning my stamina?"
Laughing softly, she reached for his shirt, pulling him to her. "Not on your life. I know better. I was just thinking that for a man who spent years perfecting the eight second ride, fifty minutes might be quite a stretch."
Threading his fingers through her hair, he looked down at her. "The stretching part is no longer in question. Hell, much longer and it's gonna take a crow bar to get me out of these jeans."
"Then what are you waiting for? — Lindsey Brookes

But then there she is, on her own, chewing gum, pulling her hair back with one hand and getting her MetroCard out with the other. Girls can do so much at once. — Alyssa B. Sheinmel

I suddenly understand why people describe kissing as melting because every square inch of my body dissolves into his. My fingers grip his hair, pulling him closer. My veins throb and my heart explodes. I have never wanted anyone like this before. Ever. — Stephanie Perkins

Guthrie handed him the mug, a wee pout pulling his pale face out of shape. With his semi-skimmed skin, faint ginger hair, and blond eyebrows he looked like a ghost that had been at the pies. "Milk, two sugars. — Stuart MacBride

Unbidden, a growl escaped him just as his lips brushed that heavenly skin and with one bite he pierced right through it. When her blood hit his tongue, he shook.
It was nectar, hot and wild and sweet, like the fiery kiss of a demon. His fingers twisted up into the glossy knot of hair at her nape, pulling it free, wrapping his fist in that silky skein. Forcing her up as his mouth came down harder, his fangs sliding deeper.
Rissa made a soft sound; whether of pleasure, encouragement or pain, it didn't matter.
Nothing fucking mattered. — Heather R. Blair

Racing up the wide staircase, I barreled through the double doors and smacked right into a brick wall.
Stumbling backward, my arms flailed like a cracked-out crossing guard. My over-packed messenger bag slipped, pulling me to one side. My hair
flew it front of my face, a sheet of auburn that obscured everything as I teetered dangerously.
Oh dear God, I was going down. There was no stopping it. Visions of broken necks danced in my head. This was going to suck so
Something strong and hard went around my waist, stopping my free fall. My bag hit the floor, spilling overpriced books and pens across the shiny
floor. My pens! My glorious pens rolled everywhere. A second later I was pressed against the wall.
The wall was strangely warm.
The wall chuckled.
"Whoa," a deep voice said. "You okay, sweetheart? — J. Lynn

What would you think about us doing the ceremony together?"

"The Crying Pools ceremony?" Kami asked. "The one Lillian said was dangerous?"

"Yeah," Ash said. "I mean, we both know it's a big decision. But it's something to think over. It might make all the difference to the town. Look, do you want to come in?" He stepped a little aside. The night air was pulling frost-tipped fingers through Kami's hair, but she stayed where she was.

"Did Jared say that? That it was a big decision?"

"And we both needed to think it through," Ash said.

"Think it through?" Kami repeated, above the sound of the wind. "Jared? Don't you know him at all? If he sounds reasonable, or sensible, or capable of any sort of rational thought, it means he's lying through his teeth! What did you tell him about the ceremony?"

They stared at each other for a moment of horrified silence. "I told him how to do it," — Sarah Rees Brennan