Pulls You Down Quotes & Sayings

There is a difference between arrival and entrance. Arrival is physical and happens all at once. The train pulls in, the plan touches down, you get out of the taxi with all your luggage. You can arrive a place and never really enter it; you get there, look around, take a few pictures, make a few notes, send postcards home. When you travel like this, you think you know where you are, but, in fact, you have never left home. Entering takes longer. You cross over, slowly, in bits and pieces. [ ... ] It is like awakening slowly, over a period of weeks. And then one morning, you open your eyes and you are finally here, really and truly here. You are just beginning to know where you are. — Jamie Zeppa

Yo, guys," Ty says, peering down into the stroller. "What the hell is that thing? Satan's spawn?"
"You'd better watch it!" Henry says. He puts on a serious face, throws an arm around my shoulders, and pulls me in close. "That's our child you're
talking about."
Ty smiles, then looks at Jerry Rice. "Its eyes are seriously creeping me out. And I knew something was going on between you two."
"You're right," Henry says. "Woods is my husband, and I'm her wife. — Miranda Kenneally

Assurance:
You will never be alone, you hear so deep a sound when autumn comes. Yellow
pulls across the hills and thrums, or in the silence after lightning before it says its names-and then the clouds' wide-mouthed apologies. You were aimed from birth: you will never be alone. Rain will come, a gutter filled, an Amazon, long aisles-you never heard so deep a sound, moss on rock, and years. You turn your head- that's what the silence meant: you're not alone. The whole wide world pours down. — William Stafford

Living with her taught me this:
That silence is a thick and dark curtain,
the kind that pulls down over a shop window;
that love is the repercussion of a stone
bouncing off that same window - and that pain
is something you can embrace, like a rag doll
nobody will ask you to share. — Judith Ortiz Cofer

Envy someone an' it pulls you down. Admire them and it builds you up. Which makes more sense? — Elvis Presley

Guilt and Regret always pulls one down.
They have an impact like that of gravity.
They heavy you like few tons of concrete,
Therefore,
Instead of growing, moving on and learning from your mistakes,
You will wine and dine with Would Have's and Could Have's. — Nomthandazo Tsembeni

Jones? Christian interrupts my train of thought. "I want you to kneel up on this," he says when we're at the table. Oh, okay. What does he have in mind? My inner goddess can't wait to find out - she's already scissor-kicked onto the table and is watching him with adoration. He gently lifts me onto the table, and I fold my legs beneath me and kneel in front of him, surprised by my own grace. Now we are eye to eye. He runs his hands down my thighs, grasps my knees, and pulls my legs apart and stands — E.L. James

You know what my mother said to me when she came to say good-bye, as if to cheer me up, she says maybe District Twelve will finally have a winner. Then I realized she didn't mean me, she meant you!" bursts out Peeta.
"Oh, she meant you," I say with a wave of dismissal.
"She said, 'She's a survivor, that one.' She is," says Peeta.
That pulls me up short. Did his mother really say that about me? Did she rate me over her son? I see the pain in Peeta's eyes and know he isn't lying.
Suddenly I'm behind the bakery and I can feel the chill of the rain running down my back, the hollowness in my belly. I sound eleven years old when I speak. "But only because someone helped me. — Suzanne Collins

Only by being suspended aloft, by dangling my mind in the heavens and mingling my rare thought with the ethereal air, could I ever achieve strict scientific accuracy in my survey of the vast empyrean. Had I pursued my inquiries from down there on the ground, my data would be worthless. The earth, you see, pulls down the delicate essence of thought to its own gross level. — Aristophanes

The corner of his lip twitches as his hand drifts lower, down my chest, before he pulls away. "The car's in the garage because I cleaned it out. Like I said, I couldn't sleep."

"What was there to clean?" I ask. "Your car is always pristine."

"You haven't seen the trunk."

I laugh. "What's in the trunk?"

"Nothing now."

He takes a step — J.M. Darhower

Death has an energy. It is thick as sludge, heavy as iron, and pulls you down into yourself like an imploding building. — Victoria Laurie

The world corrupts me, I think. Or perhaps it's just the weather. It pulls me down and makes me think like you, that one should shrink inside, down and down to a little point of light, preserving one's solitary soul like a flame under glass — Hilary Mantel

He tilts his forehead down to rest against mine and pulls me closer. His skin, his whole being radiates heat from being so near the fire, and I close my eyes, soaking in his warmth. I breathe in the smell of snow-dampened leather and smoke and apples, the smell of all those wintry days we shared before the Games. I don't try to move away. Why should I anyway? His voice drops to a whisper. "I love you." That's why. — Suzanne Collins

Love is a tidal wave--not because it sweeps you off your feet, but because it pulls you down and drowns you. — Samantha Van Leer

Life pulls down every person to the least possible negativity and thrusts them outward to shine. It is the fight that matters; when you reach the bottom, you are left with no choice but to pick yourself up and climb every difficult step. Feeling down
and letting situations tear you apart proves that we all are human and nothing more or less. So, there is no need to worry about the devastating moments; there will come a moment
when you will be forced to stand for your rights and make one single move that will pull you into the world of success. Seize the moment and grow, that's all you can do and that's why you are born. — Kavipriya Moorthy

I would sink into the relief I felt from having friends like these girls. Smart. Patient. Good daughters and sisters. That's who I ran with. That being said, I still went through the young-girl rites of passage, including being kicked out of the group. Almost every girl goes through this weird living nightmare, where you show up at school and realize people have grown to hate you overnight. It's a Twilight Zone moment when you can't figure out what is real. It is a group mind-fuck of the highest kind, and it makes or breaks you. I got through it by keeping my head down, and a few weeks passed and all the girls liked me again. We all pretended it never happened. There should be manuals passed out to teach girls how to handle that inevitable one-week stretch when up is down and the best friend who just slept over at your house suddenly pulls your hair in front of everyone and laughs. — Amy Poehler

For the first time, I notice the lax skin at Mrs. Nightwing's jaw, the fine down that lies upon her cheek like the imprint of a childe's hand, and I wonder what it must be like watching yourself soften under the years, unable to stop it. what it's like measuring your days in perfecting girls' curtsies and drinking nightly glasses of sherry, trying to keep up with the world as it pulls you spinning into the furure, knowing you are always one step behind it. — Libba Bray

A best friend is the one person that doesn't leave you worse off by their actions or yours. — Shannon L. Alder

He pulls away slowly, resting his forehead against mine, noses touching while his hand slips down to my ass. "This isn't going to be easy," he says softly.
"I know."
"Don't forget about me." He kisses me on the forehead.
"Don't stop being an asshole," I remind him. "Or people will think something's up."
He grins at me and smacks my ass. "That can be arranged. I'll see you, Freckles. — Karina Halle

Before my fingers curl around the handle of the blind, Seth whips across, grabbing my wrist. I gasp as he pulls my hand away from it.
"Settle down, daredevil." He chuckles. "You might want to conquer your fears, but I'm fine hiding from mine. — Skyla Madi

Just think of me as your friendly neighborhood cuddler." He's quiet again before another question bursts from him. "Are you telling me you'd do this for anyone?" I snuggle down. "No. That you're insanely hot is a huge factor. I get to cop a feel under the guise of civic duty." "Oh, for fuck's sake." A smile pulls at my lips. "Can it with the outrage. I know for a fact that most people would rather snuggle up to a hot dude. If it makes me shallow for admitting that, so be it." He — Kristen Callihan

I reach out to hit him, but he catches my wrist.
"Calm me down ... who do you think you are?"
He pulls me close, until our chests are touching again. "I'm your guy, that's who. — Elle Casey

A kite is a victim you are sure of.
You love it because it pulls
gentle enough to call you master,
strong enough to call you fool;
because it lives
like a desperate trained falcon
in the high sweet air,
and you can always haul it down
to tame it in your drawer.
A kite is a fish you have already caught
in a pool where no fish come,
so you play him carefully and long,
and hope he won't give up,
or the wind die down.
A kite is the last poem you've written
so you give it to the wind,
but you don't let it go
until someone finds you
something else to do. — Leonard Cohen

But the truth is, I want to be some woman's work boots, not her high heels."
"Work boots?" What was sexy about that? And did women have work boots?
"Yeah. You know, the boots she pulls out when she wants to get down and dirty, hiking or gardening or boating or painting the kitchen. The ones she relies on and trusts and lives her life hard and good and on her terms in. Her favorites. — Erin McCarthy

Grief. The first is anticipatory. This is hospice grief. Prognostic grief. This is the grief that comes when you drive your dog to the vet for the very last time. This is the death row inmate's family's grief. See that pain in the distance? It's on its way. This is the grief that it is somewhat possible to prepare for. You finish all business. You come to terms. Goodbyes are said and said again. Anguish stalks the chambers of your heart and you steel yourself for the impending presence of an everlasting absence. This grief is an instrument of torture. It squeezes and pulls and presses down. Grief that follows an immediate loss comes on like a stab wound. This is the second kind of grief. It is a cutting pain and it is always a surprise. You never see it coming. It is a grief that can't be — Jill Alexander Essbaum

Don Enrique says a full moon pulls up the highest tides of the month, at midday and midnight. And it pulls them down to their lowest ebb when it is rising or setting. So says a man in a frock coat and breeches who, if he tried to row a boat, would fall out instantly and drown. But Leandro said the same thing about the moon and high tide, so it might be true. How can you know if the moon is going toward full, or disappearing? This evening the moon was half, and Leandro said it's dying away. You can tell because it's shaped like the letter C, not curved forward like D. He says when the moon is D like Dios, it is growing to fill God's sky. When dying away it is C, like Cristo on the cross. So, no good tides again for many days. — Barbara Kingsolver

But can you imagine if the very first time that you fell after pulling yourself up on that coffee table, a voice came thundering down at you, berating you for falling? "I knew you couldn't do it! You fell, you idiot! I can't believe you fell. Everyone else is walking, but not you. You are a pathetic little crawler and you always will be!" No, quite the opposite! Toddlers are met with lavish praise at each minor progression, even steps in the general direction of progress. When the little one pulls herself up, she gets applause. Mom grabs the video camera and calls the grandparents. Can you imagine how different - and by different, I mean better - this journey would be if with every advancement you made, every small, wobbly step you took in the direction toward Hunger Directed Eating (however imperfect it was), you lavished praise, delighted wonderment, and encouragement upon yourself? — Josie Spinardi

The students adore your father,' a perfumed woman said to me. 'Aren't you lucky to live with such a charming man!'
'He's even more charming at home,' Mom said. 'Isn't he, Bea? He rides a unicycle through the house -'
'- even up and down the stairs,' I added.
'He juggles eggs as he makes breakfast every morning -'
'- which he serves to us in bed of course,' I said.
'- and pulls fragrant bouquets out of his ass,' Mom finished.
'He's just a joy. — Natalie Standiford

I return to the sprinklers and sit down. George plunks down next to me. "Did you know that a bird-eating tarantula is as big as your hand?"
"Jase doesn't have one of those, does he?"
George gives me his sunniest smile. "No. He useta have a reg'lar tarantula named Agnes, but she" - his voice drops mournfully - "died."
"I'm sure she's in tarantula heaven now," I assure him hastily, shuddering to think what that might look like.
Mrs. Garret's van pulls in behind the motorcycle, disgorging what I assume are Duff and Andy, both red-faced and windblown. Judging by their life jackets, they've been at sailing camp.
George and Harry, my loyal fans, rave to their mother about my accomplishments, while Patsy immediately bursts into tears, points an accusing finger at her mother, and wails, "Boob."
"It was her first word." Mrs. Garret takes her from me, heedless of Patsy's damp swimsuit. "There's one for the baby book. — Huntley Fitzpatrick

There are some people who don't conform to the signals. An ordinary well-regulated locomotive slows down or pulls up when it sees the red light hoisted against it. Perhaps I was born color blind. When I see the red signal
I can't help forging ahead. And in the end, you know, that spells disaster. — Agatha Christie

So this Zealot comes to my door, all glazed eyes and clean reproductive organs, asking me if I ever think about God. So I tell him I killed God. I tracked God down like a rabid dog, hacked off his legs with a hedge trimmer, raped him with a corncob, and boiled off his corpse in an acid bath. So he pulls an alternating-current taser on me and tells me that only the Official Serbian Church of Tesla can save my polyphase intrinsic electric field, known to non-engineers as "the soul." So I hit him. What would you do? — Warren Ellis

His hands still on his shoulders.

"Hi," he says. "Sorry."

"For what?"

"For the fact that you are such a big flirt."

He laughs. "You're the one in my lap. I was just sitting here minding my own business."

"Just the plane, then?"

"Of course."

I try to stand up, but he pulls me back down again.

"Man, the plane is really bumpy today," he says. — Kasie West

Listen, he said, you ever seen a bunch of crabs in a
bucket?
no, I told him.
well, what happens is that now and then one crab
will climb up on top of the others
and begin to climb toward the top of the bucket,
then, just as he's about to escape
another crab grabs him and pulls him back
down.
really? I asked.
really, he said, and this job is just like that, none
of the others want anybody to get out of
here. that's just the way it is — Charles Bukowski

But ... Well, have you ever done this with anyone else?"
"Never." He pulls her down so that she is lying on the window seat.
"Good." Willow is surprised that shy as she indeed is, she isn't embarrassed to be naked in front of him. Maybe this is because in every other important way she had already been.
"Have you?" Guy lies down on his side next to her.
"No!"
"Good." He kisses her hair, her face, her neck. — Julia Hoban

This way," he murmurs and abruptly is inside me once more, but he doesn't start his usual punishing rhythm straight away. He leans over, releases my hands, and pulls me upright so I am practically sitting on him. His hands move up to my breasts, and he palms them both, tugging gently on my nipples. I groan, tossing my head back against his shoulder. He nuzzles my neck, biting down, as he flexes his hips, deliciously slowly, filling me again and again.
"Do you know how much you mean to me?" he breathes against my ear.
"No," I gasp.
He smiles against my neck, and his fingers curl around my jaw and throat, holding me fast for a moment. "Yes, you do. I'm not going to let you go." I groan as he picks up speed. "You are mine, Anastasia." "Yes, yours," I pant. "I take care of what's mine," he hisses and bites my ear. — E.L. James

Life has moments that feel as if the sun has blackened to tar and the entire world turned to ice. It feels as if Hades and his vile demons have risen from the depths of Tartarus solely for the purpose of banding to personally torture you, and that their genuine intent of mental, emotional, and spiritual anguish is tearing you to shreds. Your heart weighs as heavily as leaden legs which you would drag yourself forward with if not for the quicksand that pulls you down inch by inch, paralyzing your will and threatening oblivion. And all the while fire and brimstone pour from the sky, pelting only you.
Truly, that is what it feels like. But that feeling is a trial that won't last forever. Never give up. — Richelle E. Goodrich

There is NOTHING you can do with your running time that is better for you than running. Any other activity only pulls you down and erases passion. — Gerry Lindgren

There is nothing to compare with that moment when you are bent over his knee and feel the material chaff against your bottom as he pulls your panties down. At that second, round cheeks revealed, plump and quivering, it is like jumping out of an airplane, pulling the ripcord and waiting for the parachute to open. — Chloe Thurlow

I first set the needle on this record and bingo! the whole mechanism begins: the record player's arm tugs at a thread as the record plays; the thread pulls over this glass and lets this marble loose; the marble rolls down this miniature slide and snap! the spring is released, cutting off your heads! Brilliant!
'And just to be on the safe side,' he continued, 'this crossbow will shoot you as the trap is released, the axe will chop you in half and the anvil will crush you to pieces!'
'And do you see this gun?' Ratigan asked with a smile. 'In case you hadn't noticed, dear friends, it's also pointed at you! Ha! Ha! Ha!' Ratigan burst you laughing — Walt Disney Company

I didn't cry when I asked him what it felt like, suffering with whatever had befallen him, and he replaid, It's something that's been inside me for a long time. And you fight and fight and fight against it for so long, but then it just crashes over you and pulls you down — Sara Shepard

Why am I doing this, Brynne?" he demanded.
"I don't know, Ethan." I could barely speak."
"Yes you do. Say it, Brynne!" I tensed as an orgasm started to rule me but he immediately reduced the pace, taking it down a notch with slow pulls in and out of my spread sex.
"Say what?" I cried, frustrated.
"Say the words I have to hear. Say the truth and I'll let you come." He speared into me slower and nipped at my bare shoulder with his teeth.
"What is the truth?" I was starting to sob now, completely at his mercy.
"The truth is," he grunted the rest on three, hard, punctuating thrusts, "You. Are. Mine!"
I inhaled on a cry at the final thrust.
He sped up again, fucking faster. "Say it!" he growled.
"I'm yours, Ethan! — Raine Miller

Arnie pulls at my T-shirt. I shove his hand away. He pushes down the toilet handle and the bathroom fills with that flush sound. Tucker says, "You taking a dump?"
"No."
"Liar. I heard the flush. You were taking a dump."
"But I ... "
"I just wish you'd admit it. We got to be honest with each other."
"But ... "
"I heard the flush, Gilbert. You can't fool Tucker Van Dyke. — Peter Hedges

So I added in all the pains I'd learned. Cooking blunders I'd had to eat anyways. Equipment and property constantly breaking down, needing repairs and attention. Tax insanity, and rushing around trying to hack a path through a jungle of numbers. Late bills. Unpleasant jobs that gave you horribly aching feet. Odd looks from people who didn't know you, when something less than utterly normal happened. The occasional night when the loneliness ached so badly that it made you weep. The occasional gathering during with you wanted to escape to your empty apartment so badly that you were willing to go out of the bathroom window. Muscle pulls and aches you never had when you were younger, the annoyance as the price of gas kept going up to some ridiculous degree, the irritation with unruly neighbors, brainless media personalities, and various politicians who all seemed to fall on a spectrum somewhere between the extremes of "crook" and "moron."
You know.
Life. — Jim Butcher

She reaches down into her bulging tote bag and pulls out a small plastic box with a hinged lid. It contains a round pill box with a threaded lid from which she tips out a vitamin pill, a fish-oil pill, and the enzyme tablet that lets her stomach digest milk. Inside the hinged plastic box she also carries packets of salt, pepper, horseradish, and hand-wipes, a doll size bottle of Tabasco sauce, chlorine pills for treating drinking water, Pepto-Bismol chews, and God knows what else. If you go to a concert, Bina has opera glasses. If you need to sit on the grass, she whips out a towel. Ant traps, a corkscrew, candles and matches, a dog muzzle, a penknife, a tiny aerosol can of freon, a magnifying glass - Landsman has seen everything come out of that overstuffed cowhide at one time or another. — Michael Chabon

When you cross over into the weird stuff, there's no going back. Hector has a theory on it. Calls it the law of 'Anomalous Phenomena Attraction.' He explained it to me once. Didn't really pay attention, but it boils down to 'weird shit pulls in more weird shit. — A. Lee Martinez

Here, he's resting on the examining table. Pulse seventy-two. Here, he grabs the nurse's head and pulls her down to him. Here, he is subdued by the attendant. He didn't resist, by the way, though the attendant dislocated his shoulder. Do you notice the strange thing? His pulse never got over eighty-five. Even when he tore out her tongue. — Thomas Harris

He held up a hand. "You've come perilously close to being written up for insubordination, Lieutenant. I expect better control from you, and have rarely had the need to remind you of it."
"Yes, sir."
"Moreover, I find myself insulted both on a personal and professional level that you assumed I had or would approve an asinine schedule that pulls you off a priority."
"I apologize, Commander, and can only offer the weak excuse that any and all contact with Lee Chang results in my temporary insanity."
"Understood." Whitney turned the disc over in his hand. "It surprises me, Dallas, that you didn't shove this down his throat."
"Actually, sir, I had another orifice in mind."
His lips quirked, just slightly. Then he snapped the disc in two, just as she had.
"Thank you, Commander."
"Let's get this damn circus over with, so we can both get back to work. — J.D. Robb

the car into gear and drives through the gate. Dede closes the gate behind them, taking another look across the street and seeing nothing. "That's the thing, though," she says when she reenters the car. "He wasn't walking. He was just watching us. I mean, I think. With the headlights, I couldn't really see. It could just be my eyes playing tricks." Annie pulls the Beetle onto the grass next to the massive detached garage, hidden from sight. She lets out a sigh. "Good to be home," she says. "There's no place like home. There's no place like - " "Would you shut up?" As they walk toward the back entrance, they see the ladder the hot tool-belt guy used yesterday, broken down and lying in the grass. "Noah was cute," Annie says. "Was he? Was he cute?" Dede throws another elbow. "Now, now, dearest, I only have eyes for you. — James Patterson

It was one of the rare mornings when Dad was around. He'd gotten up early to go cycling, and he was sweaty, standing at the counter in his goony fluorescent racing pants, drinking green juice of his own making. His shirt was off, and he had a black heart-rate monitor strapped across his chest, plus some shoulder brace he invented, which is supposedly good for his back because it pulls his shoulders into alignment when he's at the computer. "Good morning to you, too," he said disapprovingly. I must have made some kind of face. But I'm sorry, it's weird to come down and — Maria Semple

Gotcha!" he says, and smirks. He grabs me around my waist and pulls me up against him. "You are incorrigible, Miss Steele," he murmurs, staring down into my eyes as he weaves his fingers into my hair, holding me firmly in place. He kisses me, hard, and I cling on to his muscular arms for support. — E.L. James

Sometimes the darkness beyond is not glorious at all, it truly is an absolute absence of light. A clawing, needy tar that pulls you down. You drown but you don't. It turns you to lead so you sink faster in its viscous embrace. It robs you of hope and even the memory of hope. It makes you think you've always felt like this, and there's no place to go but down, where it slowly, ravenously digests your will, distilling it into the ebony crude of nightmares.

And you know the darkness beyond despair, just as intimately as you know the soaring heights. Because in this and all universes, there is balance. You can't have the one without facing the other. And sometimes you think you can take it because the joy is worth the despair, and sometimes you know you can't take it and how did you ever think you could? And there is the dance; strength and weakness, confidence and desolation. — Neal Shusterman

WRAP ME UP
I shiver.
He pulls away.
"Are you cold?" he asks.
"A little.
Plus ... you know."
"What?"
"Um ... your kisses?"
He laughs,
pulls me down
onto the blanket
and wraps his arms
and legs around me.
Perfect.
My kind of blanket. — Lisa Schroeder

Grace is humbling and restorative. It pulls you down because Christ had to die for you, but also lifts you up because he wanted to die for you. — Timothy Keller

I don't want to lose you."
He reaches for my hand and pulls me to him. "You are not going to lose me," he says, peering down at me. "I promise."
I want to believe him so badly. I need to believe him. "What if you lose me?"
He smiles at me, his grip hard. "Then I'll just hold on tighter. — Karina Halle

Why, if economic freedom has proven itself time and time again to be the engine of prosperity, do we keep moving toward Big Government? Why is a pro-freedom agenda so hard to come by and to defend? Why, no matter the rhetoric, no matter the mood of the electorate, no matter how much the weight of Big Government pulls down economic progress, do we get more regulations, more government spending, less economic freedom? The answer might surprise you. It has to do with something we don't often talk about in explicit terms. It has to do with morality. — Yaron Brook

The world, with all its impossible variegation and the basic miracle of its existence, draws most mourners out of their grief and back into itself. The homosexual forsythia blooms; the young Irish dancers in Killarney dance, their arms as rigid as shovel handles; secret deals are done involving weapons or office space or crude oil or used cars or drugs; new lovers, believing they will never really have to get up, lie down together; the Large Hadron Collider smashes the Higgs boson into view; snow drapes its white stoles on the bare limbs of winter; the crack of the bat swung by a hefty Dominican pulls a crowd to its feet in Boston; bricks for the new hospital in Phnom Penh are laid in true courses; the single-engine Cessna lands safely in an Ohio alfalfa field during a storm. How can you resist? The true loss in only to the dying, and even the won't feel it when the dying's done. — Daniel Menaker

This is where we go our seperate ways.
Aware of the almost feel of his hand on my arm when he pulls me back to him and says, "Yes."
I look at him, unsure of what he's saying yes to.
"The questions you asked earlier, about wanting to settle down, start a family, see my family? Yes. Yes to all of it."
I try to swallow but can't, try to speak but the words just won't come.
His hands sliding around me, grasping me to him, he lets go of the vial, allows it to fall, to crash to the ground. The sparkling green liquid seeping out all around as he says, "But mostly yes to you. — Alyson Noel

Don't stop" I tease in a seductive voice. " Give me more, Ben. Did you read eBooks or ... " I run my finger slowly down his chest."Hardbacks?"
He pulls his hands behind his head and a smug look washes over his face. "Oh, they were hardbacks, all right. And I'm not sure if you're ready for this, but ... I have my own TBR pile. You should read it, Fallon. It's huge" — Colleen Hoover

Rose: Who are you then? Who's that lot down there? [The Doctor ignores her] I said who are they?!
The Doctor: They're made of plastic. Living plastic creatures. They're being controlled by a relay device on the roof. Which would be a great big problem if- [he pulls a bleeping bomb out of his coat] -I didn't have this. So I'm gonna go upstairs and blow it up. And I might well die in the process. But don't worry about me, no. You go home, go on! Go and have your lovely beans on toast. [suddenly serious] Don't tell anyone about this 'cos if you do, you'll get them killed. [closes the door] [opens it again] I'm The Doctor, by the way. What's your name?
Rose: Rose.
The Doctor: Nice to meet you, Rose. [holds up the bomb, shaking it slightly while grinning.] Run for your life! — Russell T. Davies

He tries again, swallowing hard to ease away the painful lump in his throat. "It's just important. I love you. I'm yours. I need people to know."
"Alright," Lindsay says suddenly. He leans down to grab at Pip's bag, throwing stuff out onto the carpet, his iPod and phone and wallet and gloves and Attitude magazine until he finds what he's looking for, a green marker pen, and holds it between his teeth while he starts tugging at the hem of Pip's t-shirt. Pip's too surprised to do anything but submit, he lets Lindsay peel off his t-shirt and throw that on top of all the things from his bag then just watches as Lindsay pulls the pen out of the cap in his mouth and signs his name in big green letters on the side of Pip's stomach. He holds his breath, trying not to suck in the belly fat everybody else keeps telling him is imaginary. "There, you're mine, are you fucking happy now?" Lindsay snaps, and throws the recapped pen across the room to get lost in the bookcase somewhere. — Richard Rider

I can't force you. I can't make you want to survive this." He pulls me against him and runs his hand over my hair, tucking it behind my ear. His fingers trail down my neck and over my shoulder, and he says, "But you will do it. It doesn't matter if you believe you can or not. You will, because that's who you are. — Veronica Roth

Does the weight of consequence drag you down until it pulls you under? — Ashlee Simpson

If your legs are strong it definitely gives you an advantage coming down hill. As far as specific workouts go, I get a kick out of sled pulls and driving the sled. I put a couple of 45 pound weights on it and just go until I can't feel my VMO muscles (Vastus Medialis Oblique.) That's the muscle right next to your knee, on the inside. — Brandon Spikes

Colt lies on my bed and pulls me down behind him. I expect him to go for my clothes, but instead he kisses me again.
"Blanket." I mutter, between kisses.
"If you're cold I'm doing something wrong. — Nyrae Dawn

Misery is a no U-turns, no stopping road. Travel down it pushed by those behind, tripped by those in front. Travel down it at furious speed though the days are mummified in lead. It happens so fast once you get started, there's no anchor from the real world to slow you down, nothing to hold on to. Misery pulls away the brackets of life leaving you to free fall. Whatever your private hell, you'll find millions like it in Misery. This is the town where everyone's nightmares come true. — Jeanette Winterson

When you're flying, the changing balance of lift and weight pulls you up or down. But another pair of forces pulls you forward or backward through the air: thrust and drag. Thrust is the power that pulls the kite forward - you run with it to get it up in the air. You have to have thrust to create lift. Drag is there because your kite's surfaces push against the air and slow the kite down. Drag doesn't pull you out of the sky; it makes you fly more slowly. — Elizabeth Wein

I sit down next to him, and he pulls me to his side. Then he lies down so that I'm draped across him. My hip is tucked between him and the back of the couch. "I don't want to go home yet," he says quietly. He pulls my head down to his chest, and I press my face against it. His hand settles on the back of my head, and he starts to stroke down the length of my hair. "Then don't go," I say quietly. He doesn't. He just threads his fingers into my hair and drags them down my back, over and over, until my eyelids grow heavy and I fall asleep on his chest. I wake up the next morning tucked into my own bed, the covers pulled up to my chin. I sit up and look around. Beside me on the pillow is a note. I open it up and read. Are you in love with me yet? — Tammy Falkner

He laughs and pulls out a big Ziploc bag of something dark and round. Cookies!
I lunge forward. "Are these - ?"
"Chocolate with peanut butter chips," he finishes for me.
I keep staring at his lips, but I slide open the baggie. "I love these! My mom always made these."
"I know."
"How do you know?"
"You told me once."
He sits down with me and before I can get too heart fluttery he pulls out a cookie and lifts it toward my mouth, teasing me. "Do you want it?"
I open my lips. He slides the cookie in a little bit. I chomp down. It melts on my tongue. "It is sooo good. — Carrie Jones

Then my cell phone buzzes again. I can't quite get it out of my pocket because my arm is so bloody. Astley reaches down and pulls it out for me.
"You're blushing," he says.
"You just reached in my pocket. It's kind of intimate."
He smiles a wicked smile and hands me the phone. "There is candy in here as well."
"Skittles," I explain. "I like them. — Carrie Jones

I tug his head down to mine. "I need you, Reed. Don't make me beg."
And just like that, he gives in. One hand comes up to tangle in my hair while the other pulls me roughly against him. "You don't ever have to ask again. I'll give you anything you want. — Erin Watt

Depression weighs you down like a rock in a river. You don't stand a chance. You can fight and pray and hope you have the strength to swim, but sometimes, you have to let yourself sink. Because you'll never know true happiness until someone or something pulls you back out of that river
and you'll never believe it until you realize it was you, yourself who saved you. — Alysha Speer

Let me be frank," Joe's voice pulls me back. "You seem like a nice girl. So why the hell are you chasing down a rat bastard like Blake?"
I smile at the description. "I thought you were his friend."
"Can't help liking the son of a bitch." He squirms in the seat, trying to find a comfortable position. "Pardon me for saying so. You don't seem like his type."
What is that suppose to mean? So I'm not dumb, snobby or slutty ... Oh. — Talia Vance

He pulls back to look down at me and when he sees my tears, he brings his hands up to my cheeks. In the future . . . if by some miracle you ever find yourself in the position to fall in love again . . . fall in love with me. — Colleen Hoover