Pushed Over The Edge Quotes & Sayings

Yes, I felt guilt. Somehow I had pushed Fand to the precipice without realizing it, and had I not been so blind, perhaps she wouldn't be trying to pull us all over the edge with her now. I was sure Manannan felt it too-the crushing questions of how we got to this place and whether we could have avoided it, where we went wrong, and whether we would ever learn how not to cock up other people's lives in the course of living our own. — Kevin Hearne

I wanted someone to hold me close so I slide across and snuggled in tight and said, 'Hold me.' He did, and it was tender and truly sweet, but without a trace of that wild carnal edge you would have to cross if you want to get so close together you can't tell each other apart.

I pushed it. I said, 'I want to get closer. I want you to love who I am.' Love doesn't do much for the powers of explanation, but since Love has never asked for one itself, that seems fair enough. — Jim Dodge

Great players and great teams want to be driven. They want to be pushed to the edge. They don't want to be cheated. Ordinary players and average teams want it to be easy — Pat Riley

No, you don't know what it's like
When nothing feels all right
You don't know what it's like
To be like me
To be hurt
To feel lost
To be left out in the dark
To be kicked when you're down
To feel like you've been pushed around
To be on the edge of breaking down
And no one's there to save you
No, you don't know what it's like
Welcome to my life — Simple Plan

Set flush in the wall behind the desk was a steel door. It was knobless, and along one edge were three brass keyholes spaced a few inches apart. Rube brought out a key ring, selected a key, then walked around the desk, inserted the key in the topmost lock, and turned it. From his watch pocket he took a single key, pushed it into the middle keyhole, and turned. The guard stood waiting beside him, and now the guard inserted a key in the bottom keyhole, turned it and pulled the door open with the key. Rube removed his two keys and gestured me in through the open door before him. He followed, and the door swung solidly shut behind us. I heard the multiple click of the locks engaging, and we were standing in a space hardly larger than a big closet, dimly lighted by an overhead bulb in a wire cage. Then I saw that we were at the top of a circular metal staircase. — Jack Finney

So when Angua strode into the main office, slamming the big doors back, and there was a derisory wolf-whistle, the unwise watchman found himself being pushed backwards until he was slammed against the wall. He felt two sharp points pressed against his neck as Angua growled, "You want a wolf, do you? Say 'No, Sergeant Angua.'" "No, Sergeant Angua!" "You don't? I was probably mistaken then, was I?" The points pressed a little harder. In the man's mind, steely talons were about to pierce his jugular. "Couldn't say for sure, Sergeant Angua!" "My nerves are a tad stretched right now!" Angua howled. "Hadn't noticed, Sergeant Angua!" "We're all a little bit on edge at the moment, wouldn't you say!" "That's ever so true, Sergeant Angua!" Angua let the man's boot reach the ground. She put two black, shiny, and noticeably pointed heels into his unresisting hands. — Terry Pratchett

I lie on the floor, washed by nothing and hanging on. I cry at night. I am afraid of hearing voices, or a voice. I have come to the edge, of the land. I could get pushed over. — Margaret Atwood

He kept her pinned to the earth as he took her, as if he knew just how damn much she needed a good, hard ride. When she orgasmed, it was with a sharp cry, a lush clenching around the thick heat of him, and a burst of starlight behind her eyes. Lights that continued to flicker even after she came back down to earth. Riley was still hot and aroused in her, moving with unapologetically powerful thrusts that pushed her to another peak in moments. She bit his neck in the wolf way this time, and it finally pushed him over the edge with her — Nalini Singh

No man could truly say what he was until he had been pushed to the edge of things with the precipice of his own ruin staring up at him. — Paul Kearney

Come to the edge, he said.
We are afraid, they said.
Come to the edge, he said.
They came to the edge,
He pushed them and they flew.
Come to the edge, Life said.
They said: We are afraid.
Come to the edge, Life said.
They came. It pushed them...
And they flew. — Christopher Logue

With a live audience, it's very clear when you've pushed it too far to the edge - because you fall off that edge and hit bottom with a thud. Nothing abstract about that. You know you went too far when you hear that groan or worse - that silence instead of the big laugh you were expecting following your hilariously edgy joke. — Michael Patrick King

He was wearing a scuba mask and snorkel set pushed off his handsome face . . . a set of flippers that slapped over the slick floor as he approached the pool's edge . . . a slingshot bathing suit that was hot pink . . . and a children's — J.R. Ward

I was diagnosed with an early, early stage of prostate cancer. I was almost a vegetarian then. I was heading that direction. What pushed me over the edge, was the doctor who did the diagnosis. He said in a discussion about prostate cancer that he had never seen a vegetarian with prostate cancer. And this is not a holistic doctor, this is a regular, mainstream doctor. And I was just blown away. — Michael Dorn

That didn't mean he wouldn't come again. Which he did, a hot, nearly dry orgasm with his cock in Tommy's mouth. That one pushed him over the edge, left him a strung-out, groaning mess, so full of sensation he didn't know what the hell to do. So he lay there, spread out on the rug like a sacrifice, everything forgotten except Tom. — S.E. Jakes

Some of us enter deconstruction willingly. We sat through too many church services that made us queazy with songs-with-words-we-stopped-feeling-good-about-singing, predictable messages, certainty, and focus on belief instead of practice. Something stirred within us, and we started asking the questions swirling around in our head. Others of us were pushed into deconstruction by wounding church experiences. We saw one too many inconsistencies, abuses of power, or crazy-stuff-that-only-insiders-sometimes-see that pushed us over the edge and called everything into question. — Gerardo Marti

Probably what pushed the Russians over the edge was SDI. They realized they couldn't beat us. — Tom Clancy

Judge bucked and Michaels gasped as his dick was squeezed to the point of pain. "Fuck! Austin!" Judge shouted under him, his back muscles flexing hard, his fist clenching the edge of the mattress. It only took a split second of his dick being deliciously hugged by those constricting walls to know Judge was coming apart. Coming so hard, so beautifully for him. "Yeah, sweetheart." Michaels pushed hard against Judge's prostate, wrenching another strangled yell from him. Judge shook and ground his dick into the mattress, draining the last of his orgasm while Michaels stirred up to began his own. "I'm — A.E. Via

Milla put her hands on his ribs, holding on as he braced his weight on one arm while with his other hand he guided his penis to her and in the same rough motion pushed deep inside.
He froze in place, his breath panting between his parted lips as they stared at each other. She couldn't move; the feel of him inside her was too sharp, almost painful in its intensity. Their gazes met in the mellow lamplight, and she was mesmerized by the tension in his face, the way his steely muscles were locked as if he didn't dare move. It built and built, that clawing need, and yet she remained poised on the razor's edge of something she knew she couldn't control. His chest suddenly heaved on a convulsive breath, and he moved in a long, deep stroke that took him all the way to the hilt. — Linda Howard

Don't you think we're going to go to hell for this?" asked Lissa.
He reached out and touched her face, trailing his fingers along her cheek and neck and down to the top of her silky shirt. She breathed heavily at that touch, at the way it could be so gentle and small, yet evoke such a strong passion within her.
"For this?" He played with the shirt's edge, letting his finger just barely brush inside of it.
"No," she laughed. "For this." She gestured around the attic. "This is a church. We shouldn't be doing this kind of, um, thing up here."
"Not true," he argued. Gently, he pushed her onto her back and leaned over her. "The church is downstairs. This is just storage. God won't mind. — Richelle Mead

When we were pushed to the edge we were capable of anything. Surviving was the only thing that mattered. — Molly O'Keefe

They hired a PhD student from the statistics department at the University of California at Berkeley to help them, but he quit after they asked him to study the market for pork belly futures. "It turned out that he was a vegetarian," said Jamie. "He had a problem with capitalism in general, but the pork bellies pushed him over the edge. — Michael Lewis

Didn't I tell you that you would be safe as long as you were with me?"
"Yes, but I didn't believe you when you pushed me off the edge of a building. — Missy Lyons

Was he curious about her?
That was putting it mildly. He was curious about the noises she might make if he kissed her properly and the colour of her nipples and what she tasted like between her legs and the extent of her tattoo and how she'd sounded as she came. He was curious about where she liked to be touched and whether she'd let him take charge and if she liked giving head. He was curious about the long curve of her spine and the dip of her hip and how she'd looked straddled atop of him, her hair loose, her breasts bouncing as he pushed her over the edge.
Or curled up beside him in bed, naked, her body branded by his. — Amy Andrews

Nyx sold her womb somewhere between Punjai and Faleen, on the edge of the desert.
Drunk, but no longer bleeding, she pushed into a smoky cantina just after dark and ordered a pinch of morphine and a whiskey chaser. She bet all of her money on a boxer named Jaks, and lost it two rounds later when Jaks hit the floor like an antique harem girl. — Kameron Hurley

And what about Lily Anne? What terrible damage would it do to such a bright and sensitive child, growing up with a famous monster for a father? What if it pushed her off the edge and into a life on the Dark Side, along with Cody and Astor? How could I live with the knowledge that I had destroyed such a potentially beautiful life? It — Jeff Lindsay

I sighed. "Actually, Mom, we argue pretty regularly."
"What?" She gaped at me. "Well, stop it!"
"Oh, and I kneed him in the groin once."
There was a split second of silence before May barked a laugh. She covered her mouth and tried to stop it, but it kept coming out in awkward, squeaky sounds. Dad's lips were pressed together, but I could tell he was on the verge of losing it himself.
Mom was paler then snow.
"America, tell me you're joking. Tell me you didn't assault the prince."
I don't know why, but the word assault pushed us all on the edge; and May, Dad, and I bent over laughing as Mom stared at us.
"Sorry, Mom," I managed.
"Oh, good lord." She suddenly seemed very excited in meeting Marlee's parents, and I didn't stop her from going. — Kiera Cass

Just when she thought she could feel nothing more, he began to increase his pace, strokes that pushed her over the edge.
The storm swallowed her screams of pleasure.
She heard his exultant laughter as she jerked her hands free, gripped his buttocks and pulled him to her, riding out her climax with his. — Karen Ranney

Where's Vivian?" someone called from the hallway. I was pushed closer to the edge, almost caught with my underpants in my mouth and a finger in my ass. Fear buzzed and amplified the pleasure. — C.D. Reiss

After a year and a half my therapist retired, so I was bounced to someone else-a woman.
Shazam! I suddenly felt I could open up and talk about the real stuff going on in my head. She lasted two session. I guess it was the castration fantasy that pushed over the edge. — Joan Nestle

I love you," she whispered against his chest.
He hugged her tighter, and then drew in a deep breath. "And Iiiiiiiiiii-ee-iiii will always love yoooooooou," he sang, or rather butchered, the old Whitney Houston song.
Impossibly, Emilie burst out laughing. "Oh, God, that's horrible Derek." She pushed out of his arms, grasped one of the pillows from the edge of the bed, and planted it over his head. He continued to warble from under the cotton, and Emilie couldn't stop laughing.
Their playfulness quickly escalated into a pillow fight, and then a wrestling match, and of course she ended up underneath him.
Win-win in her book. — Laura Kaye

To design things means to interfere with things: to think of how they might be and to alter how they are. Design is to making as writing is to speech: it is an ordinary physical activity pushed to a conscious edge. That interference with the given world can still be founded on admiration. Where it is not, what is the point of designing at all? — Robert Bringhurst

Come to the edge," he said.
"We can't, we're afraid!" they responded.
"Come to the edge," he said.
"We can't, We will fall!" they responded.
"Come to the edge," he said.
And so they came.
And he pushed them.
And they flew. — Guillaume Apollinaire

Okay, what in Hades just happened? Stones don't glow blue or any other color and they certainly don't burn circles on you."
The stone wasn't talking.
Alexandra considered herself well grounded, yet here she stood, talking to a stone that glowed, burned circles, and refused to answer.
A thread of sensation pricked at the edges of her mind, then grew stronger. It mirrored an idea then became clear.
Tell no one.
What? Looking from side to side, she backed against the wall. Although it felt like someone whispered in her ear, she stood there alone. The day's trauma must have pushed her over the edge, yet the sensation persisted.
Tell no one.
She froze. Her eyes darted around the room. The muscles in her legs tightened as she prepared to bolt from the room.
Alexandra swallowed and licked her lips. "Who would believe me anyway?" she whispered. — H.H. Laura

She did not listen to the voices of the men behind her. She did not know for how long the broken snatches of their struggle kept rolling past her - the sounds that nudged and prodded one another, trying to edge back and leave someone pushed forward - a struggle, not to assert one's own will, but to squeeze an assertion from some unwilling victim - a battle in which the decision was to be pronounced, not by the winner, but by the loser. — Ayn Rand

One of the things that pushed me over the edge was that people on the Left were calling me names. How many kicks in the teeth do you have to endure. — Cindy Sheehan

Calm down, it isn't a ring I laughed and he pushed the box across the table to me and I blushed and opened it. — Mercy Cortez

It is with these thoughts in mind that I now see the drifter's windburned face when I now consider my world-his face that reminds that there is still something left to believe in after there is nothing left to believe. A face for people like me-who were pushed to the edge of loneliness and who maybe fell off and who when we climbed back on, our world never looked the same — Douglas Coupland

We pushed to the edge of recklessness, yet I felt safe. — Ruta Sepetys

Essay on Adam There are five possibilities. One: Adam fell. Two: he was pushed. Three: he jumped. Four: he only looked over the edge, and one look silenced him. Five: nothing worth mentioning happened to Adam. The first, that he fell, is too simple. The fourth, fear, we have tried and found useless. The fifth, nothing happened, is dull. The choice is between: he jumped or was pushed. And the difference between these is only an issue of whether the demons work from the inside out or from the outside in: the one theological question. — Robert Bringhurst

Suddenly, a car zoomed out of a side street to their right, slamming into the side of the car with a loud metallic crash. Tires screeched. The passenger window shattered, showering glass over Pam as the other car's momentum pushed them towards the opposite side of the road. Pam shrieked as the car tumbled over the edge of the road into the embankment. The car rolled until it came to a rest in the bottom of the ditch with creaks and groans. Neither Pam nor her mother stirred. — C.B. Cook

A hero is also someone who, in their day to day interactions with the world, despite all the pain, uncertainty and doubt that can plague us, is resiliently and unashamedly themselves. If you can wake up every day and be emotionally open and honest regardless of what you get back from the world then you can be the hero of your own story. Each and every person who can say that despite life's various buffetings that they are proud to be the person they are is a hero. Now I do have to mention the real heroes of The Trevor Project, the men and women volunteers, all of whom stand up day after day answering the calls of desperate teens whose circumstances have pushed them to the edge of the abyss. To take that call, and say yes, I will be the one who saves this life takes such courage and compassion. Hemingway's definition of 'grace under pressure' seems fitting as the job they do is every bit as important, and every bit as delicate as a soldier defusing a bomb. — Daniel Radcliffe

Am I pushing or dying? the light up there, the immense round blazing white light is drinking me. It drinks me slowly, inspires me into space. If I do not close my eyes, it will drink all of me. I seep upward, in long icy threads, too light, and yet inside me there is a fire too, the nerves are twisted, there is no rest from this long tunnel dragging me, or am I pushing myself out of the tunnel, or is the child being pushed out of me, or is the light drinking me. Am I dying? The ice in the veins, the cracking of the bones, this pushing in darkness, with a small shaft of light in the eyes like the edge of the knife, the feeling of a knife cutting the flesh, the flesh somewhere is tearing as if it were burned through by a flame, somewhere my flesh is tearing and the blood is spilling out. I am pushing in the darkness, in utter darkness. — Anais Nin

The kiss wasn't just any kiss. No, it was a tricky little bastard, because it started out soft and gentle, but shifted gears in a matter of seconds. The moment her response went from surprise to surrender, the kiss turned hard and hungry, launching us into a frenzy of movement. Her arms were around my neck, my hands were moving all over her body, and somehow, in a span of about five seconds, she climbed up me like a tree, her legs wrapped tightly around my waist.
We spun and bumped into the counter. I reached behind my back with one hand to tighten the cross of her ankles. And then I had her sitting on the edge of the stovetop, my hands exploring the tops of her thighs. I pushed the ruffled skirt hem up and clasped on to her bare, silky skin. Her tongue dove to the back of my throat, sliding over mine like wet, slick velvet.
Holy mother fuck, I couldn't breathe. I was drowning in this girl. — Rachael Wade

hefted the pickaxe and attacked the three-inch-thick layer of gray-white ice. Frozen chips and droplets of water speckled his face as he swung the chopping tool. He pushed and scooted the bigger chunks to the edge of the trough with the pickaxe, then gritted his — Gene Shelton

When his mouth was on hers, when he could feel her about to shatter yet again, he plunged into her, knocking her over the edge with that first rough stroke.
And still he thought: More.
Even as she shuddered, he shoved her knees up and went deeper inside her. His vision blurred, but through the red haze of lust he could see her eyes. Deep, dark, glazed like glass to throw his own reflection back at him.
"I'm inside you." He panted it out as he pushed them both to madness. "Everything I am. Body, heart, mind."
She struggled through layers of pleasure to say the one thing he needed. Her hands wrapped around his wrists to hold the beat of his blood. "Let go. I'll stay with you."
He pressed his face to her hair, let both heart and mind go, and let body rule them both. — J.D. Robb

I wanted him. I arched my back, fully aware of how vulnerable that made me and that I was giving him an invitation. He accepted it and laid me back against the table, bringing his body down on top of mine. That crushing kiss of his moved from my mouth to the nape of my neck. He pushed down the edge of my dress and the bra strap underneath, exposing my shoulder and giving his lips more skin to conquer. — Richelle Mead

And God said come to the edge." "I can't. I'm afraid." "Come to the edge." "I can't. I'll fall" "Come to the edge." I went to the edge and God pushed me ... ... .and I flew. — Guillaume Apollinaire

Come to the edge.
We might fall.
Come to the edge.
It's too high!
COME TO THE EDGE!
And they came
And he pushed
And they flew. — Christopher Logue

Activision was promoting an adventure game called Pitfall Harry and had built a little jungle scene in which passersby could swing on a makeshift vine. In another room, a company called Zombie had a metal sphere that shot blue electric bolts through the air. But the id installation had a bit more in store: an eight-foot-tall vagina. Gwar, the scatological rock band that id had hired to produce the display, had pushed their renowned prurient theatrics to the edge. The vagina was lined with dozens of dildos to look like teeth. A bust of O. J. Simpson's decapitated head hung from the top. As the visitors walked through the vaginal mouth, two members of Gwar cloaked in fur and raw steak came leaping out of the shadows and pretended to attack them with rubber penises. The Microsoft executives were frozen. Then, to everyone's relief, they burst out laughing. — David Kushner

Come to the edge," he said.
They said, "We are afraid."
Come to the edge," he said.
They came.
He pushed them ... and they flew. — Guillaume Apollinaire

You have a freckle here," he whispered, sweeping his tongue over a spot just under my jaw. "It drives me crazy every time you 're above me. I just want to do this ... " The jentle draw of his mouth pushed me over the edge, and my knees tightened around his hips as i rocked against him. — Tammara Webber

SOON, he replied, which makes better sense under the rules of that country than ours. VERY SOON! he added, clasping my hands; then, unable to keep from laughing, he pushed off from the rock like a boy going for the first cold swim of spring; and the current got him. The stream was singing aloud, and I heard him singing with it until he dropped away over the edge. — Leif Enger