Quotes & Sayings About Pushing Back

But never had he felt more enthralled than he was right now, sitting beside Evie on a weathered old dock, with a blazing afternoon sun, almost brutal in its clarity, bathing everything in pure light. Sweat trickled down his back and chest from the steamy heat, and his entire body pulsed with life. Even his fingertips throbbed. It took all of his formidable self-control to prevent himself from pushing her down on the dock and spreading her legs for his entry. — Linda Howard

She pushed the car. But I was so distracted that i forgot to push the button on the timer, so we had to do the whole thing again. Which Lindsey found hilarious. "Ok" she said. "Are you ready NOW, or do we have to send you back to Button Pushing one-oh-one?" "Um, what's Button Pushing One-oh-one?" I was wearing a button down shirt that day. Lindsey reached out and poked one of the buttons into my chest. "There, that's how you push a button. Any questions? — Jordan Sonnenblick

I went over and over everything that had ever happened between us. I couldn't keep doing it, going back and fourth, holding her close and then pushing her away. It wasn't right — Jenny Han

He swallows, keeping his tormented eyes on mine. "I hate this. I hate what it's doing to me. I hate that I'm tired of doing the right thing."
This time I swallow roughly and tilt my head back, boldly pushing my hips into his, "Then stop being right. — L.A. Bressett

The clock struck half past two. In the little office at the back of Mr. McKechnie's bookshop, Gordon
Gordon Comstock, last member of the Comstock family, aged twenty-nine and rather moth-eaten already
lounged across the table, pushing a fourpenny packet of Player's Weights open and shut with his thumb. — George Orwell

When he was level with his partner he brought his other arm around his back, immediately going for that gorgeous ass. He gave it a good, hard squeezed before running his thumb down the crease. Green moaned inside their kiss, pushing his ass back into his hand. "Horny fucker," Ruxs hissed back. "You started it." Green moaned, worming his hand between them to cup Ruxs' swelling dick. "Ahhh, fuck. We gotta stop. Work. Need to go to work," Ruxs said breathlessly. He felt like a king. Green was looking at him like he could throw him on the cold floor right now and spread his legs wide for him, all he had to do was say to. Ruxs slapped his ass hard and Green moaned like the hot slut he was. — A.E. Via

I was just thinking of bundling up Cecily and feeding her to the ducks at Hyde Park," said Will, pushing his wet hair back and favoring Jem with a rare smile. "I could use your assistance."
"Unfortunately, you may have to delay your plans for suicide a bit longer. Gabriel Lightwood is downstairs, and I have two words for you. Two of your favorite words, at least when you put them together."
"'Utter simpleton'?" inquired Will. "'Worthless upstart'?"
Jem grinned. "'Demon pox,'" he said. — Cassandra Clare

Perhaps the most overrated virtue in our list of shoddy virtues is that of giving. Giving builds up the ego of the giver, makes him superior and higher and larger than the receiver. Nearly always, giving is a selfish pleasure, and in many cases it is a downright destructive and evil thing. One has only to remember some of our wolfish financiers who spend two-thirds of their lives clawing fortunes out of the guts of society and the latter third pushing it back. It is not enough to suppose that their philanthropy is a kind of frightened restitution, or that their natures change when they have enough. Such a nature never has enough and natures do not change that readily. I think that the impulse is the same in both cases. For giving can bring the same sense of superiority as getting does, and philanthropy may be another kind of spiritual avarice. — John Steinbeck

People walk around pushing back their debts
Wearing pay checks like necklaces and bracelets — Brett Dennen

Don't hold back in your writing. Take risks. Go ahead and tackle that crazy idea that you think will never fly, because that may be the one that makes you stand out from the crowd. Keep pushing the envelope. — Carrie Vaughn

Back then, and even now, I wonder: Am I "empowered"? If you have to hide your hypersensitivity, are you really a "strong woman"? Sometimes another voice enters my head, shooing these thoughts aside. This one tells me that the only really good performance is one where you make yourself vulnerable while pushing beyond your familiar comfort zone. I liken it to having an intense, hyper-real dream, where you step off a cliff but don't fall to your death. — Kim Gordon

The bed creaks as he eases closer. And then I feel it.
Oh, fucking hell. Just no. He can't do this to me.
It's big, it's hard, and it's nudging my ass.
We both freeze. Well, Gabriel freezes. His dick? It nudges me again, that blunt head pushing into the small of my back as if to say hello.
"Involuntary reaction," Gabriel says in a strangled voice. "Ignore it."
His hard-on says otherwise.
I swallow with difficulty. "Your hard dick is poking me in the ass. I can no more ignore it than if you slapped me in the face with it."
He stills, a sound gurgling in his throat. I'm about to apologize for being so crude, when he bursts out laughing. — Kristen Callihan

Einstein wrestled with a problem back before we even knew the universe was expanding, and he was looking for a way to keep the universe from collapsing. And so he discovered, in his theory of gravity, something like this dark energy - he called it a cosmological constant - could play this role, pushing things away. — Adam Riess

I think being an editor really helped me take other people's notes on my writing. I'd get a note like 'It's too wet' or 'The first couple chapters are good, but then the rest of the pages were so wet that they were completely illegible' or 'Did you dip this in Sprite? This smells like Sprite. Why would you dip your novel in Sprite?' And instead of pushing back, I'd listen. That's an incredibly important skill for a young writer to have. — Toni Morrison

Another good reducing exercise consists in placing both hands against the table edge and pushing back — Robert Quillen

Opening the door, he nearly did a double take into the mirror behind
him.
Hooch. Hooch, pushing his shades back up onto his head, and re-shouldering the bergan. Hooch, standing in the doorway.
"Been thinking."
Two words, more than usual.
"Been around a bit."
Six, speech worthy of a national holiday.
"Looking for a station now."
Eleven, whole fucking fireworks.
"Central station."
Thirteen, and the heavens came down for Matt.
"You still offering?"
Sixteen, and the world stopped spinning.
Matt stood thinking for a while, not a muscle in his face twitched. Then
stepped aside, gestured the other man to follow him. Closed the door.
"One condition."
Hooch's brows rose for a split second.
Matt broke into a grin at last, which threatened to split his face. "Promise
not to talk too much. — Marquesate

A shrieking rise of power rushed into my pathways, rocking me against the wall. Ido's body slammed into mine. He was not going to let go. Not now. The Rat Dragon howled, his heavy blue force driven back by the onslaught of sinuous gold. Raw,rejoicing energy flooded my seven centers of power; opening,pushing, seeking. And behind it all, a presence exulting in the joy of release and reunion. I looked up and finally my mind-sight was clear. I could see the Mirror Dragon. My Dragon. — Alison Goodman

Sometimes, pushing against change only makes it push back twice as hard. But even the most bitter fruit may contain something sweet at its core. A taste you would never have encountered if you had not been willing to endure the bitter first. — Cameron Dokey

He growled, equally exhilarated and annoyed by
the way she insisted on pushing him back. I'm going to put you on your knees, Ruby. You're going to hate how much you love it. — Tessa Bailey

On a horse there is a perfect position of balance where he doesn't feel like he's pushing you along with him or dragging you along with him. It's like two converging currents in a river, where those currents converge, there is a point where there is no movement, no energy; and that's what you're thinking when you're on the back of a horse ... — Buck Brannaman

turned back into his office, pushing his door closed. "Uh oh," Zwingler said to Casey. "Looks — Robin Burcell

Fuuuck. Mark that hole, babe." Michaels was pushing his ass up into Judge but there wasn't another inch available, every part of him that could fit was inside Michaels already. His sexy partner moaned while Judge rode out the last shivers of his orgasm. Judge fell to the side, arms thrown over his head, his heart beating so fast he thought he'd pass out. Michaels chuckled next to him. Leaned over and kissed, laughed, swam in the moment. Michaels buried his nose in Judge's armpit, inhaled him a while before he licked around the fury patch in the center, slicking down the fine hairs with his spit. Judge held Michaels' head in place, moaning the more Michaels bathed him. "Feels good," Judge whispered. It was absolutely the most erotic thing in the world. Judge's eyes opened back up and he saw right before he felt that Michaels was still hard as stone. "You didn't come." "Nope," Michaels said, pushing until Judge was on his stomach. Oh — A.E. Via

It occurred to her, sadly, and not for the first time, that as you grew older you became busier, and time went faster and faster, the months pushing each other rudely out of the way, and the years slipping off the calendar and into the past. Once, there had been time. Time to stand, or sit, and just look at daffodils. Or to abandon housekeeping, on the spur of the moment, walk out of the back door and up the hill, into the lark-song emptiness of a summer morning. — Rosamunde Pilcher

Thunder rumbled. My heart beat faster. I turned away from Evernight for the last time and looked back at the flower as it trembled upon its branch. A single petal was torn away by the wind. Pushing my hands through the thorns, I felt lashes of pain across my skin, but i kept going determined.
But when my fingertip touched the flower, it instantly darkened, withering and drying as each petal turned black. — Claudia Gray

I had actually hurt my neck, and because I went a while without getting it taken care of - it was pushing up against the back of my heart - and because I have heart issues, they thought it was this whole big deal. So I spent a good three days in the hospital, two nights in the ICU. — Austin Carlile

And above all, I will argue the necessity for preserving, against all shame, a demanding question of revolution itself, a question about utopia that keeps pushing its way through a field of failed aspirations, like a student at the back of the room who gets suddenly, violently, tired of being invisible. — Lauren Berlant

Congress and the White House are working out their scheme for pushing through a healthcare 'reform' bill that has more pages than the U.S. Constitution has words. I guarantee you that not a single member of the House or Senate has a complete understanding of that legislation any more than they understood all the implications of the USA PATRIOT Act back in 2001. — Butch Otter

What about a love charm, then?" persisted the owner, pushing a flower carved of pearl to me. "To awaken your lover's interest," she added with a wink.
At this, Amar walked to the table and slid the flower rather ungently back toward the owner.
"I am her husband. She needs no charm to hold my interest. — Roshani Chokshi

I ask my destiny - what power is this That cruelly drives me onward without rest? My destiny says, "Look round!" I turn back and see It is I myself that is ever pushing me from behind. — Rabindranath Tagore

My dad died, I write. almost a year ago. Car accident. My hand is shaking; my eyes sting and fill. I add Not his fault before pushing the notebook and pen back across the table, wiping a hand across my cheeks.
As he reads, my impulse is to reach out, grab the notebook, run outside, dump it in the trash, bury it in the snow, throw it under the wheels of a passing car - something, something, so I can go back fifteen seconds when this part ofme was still shut away and private. Then I look at Ravi's face again, and the normally white white whites of his eyes are pink. This causes major disruption to my ability to control the flow of my own tears. I see myself when I look at him right now: he's reflecting my sadness, my broken heart, back to me.
He takes the pe, writes, and slides it over. You'd think it's something epic from the way it levels my heart. It isn't.
I'm really sorry, Jill.
Four little words. — Sara Zarr

I like pushing the envelope. I like pushing myself and the audience, whether it's a TV show or live. I like to throw people over the edge of the cliff and scare the wits out of them, but then pull them back and make them safe. — Keith Barry

Scientific research sooner or later, but inevitably, encounters something ultimately given that it cannot trace back to something else of which it would appear as the regular or necessary derivative. Scientific progress consists in pushing further back this ultimately given. — Ludwig Von Mises

I know what you're thinking," Ellis said, hitting the key remote in his hand. "It's pretty much the most stunning example of vehicular perfection
ever."
We all stood there, watching as the back door of the sky blue van slid open, revealing two rows of seats, the rear of which was stacked with
soccer balls and various pairs of cleats.
"Don't try to point out to him that it is just a minivan," Heather said, climbing into the backseat and pushing a ball onto the floor. "We've tried. — Sarah Dessen

I'm going to take you home, strip you down, and fuck you - " "Whoa, whoa, whoa, whoa!" Kevin said. He was back to pushing away from Jagger. "I think you forgot something there. Actually, I think you forgot several things!" Jagger cocked his head. Kevin held up one finger. "Kissing. There has to be lots of kissing." Then a second finger, and one more for each point he ticked off. "And foreplay. What is it about men thinking foreplay doesn't exist? I want some groping and rubbing and more sucking! Then - No, before the foreplay starts, but it can be during foreplay, too - a shower. Gods, a nice, hot shower." Kevin's eyes gleamed. "The two of us, naked, soapy, rubbing all over each other. But no soap for lube, that burns." Another finger went up. "Food. I might even need that before all else, except maybe the kissing. If it's garlicky food, then - — Bailey Bradford

A life without love, without the presence of the beloved, is nothing but a mere magic-lantern show. We draw out slide after slide, swiftly tiring of each, and pushing it back to make haste for the next. — Johann Wolfgang Von Goethe

In a world that keeps on pushing me around, I'm gonna stand my ground, and I won't back down ... — Tom Petty

They pass their green paper, dry as old leaves and smelling of a thousand hands, back and forth and back again. They hunt frantically, stalking, pushing, grumbling. Then they leave, clutching bags filled with things - bright things, soft things, big things - but no matter how full the bags, they always come back for more. — Katherine Applegate

The fact that your lifespan is an infinitesimally tiny fragment in the life of the universe, and that there is, at the very least, a strong possibility that when you die, you disappear completely and forever, and that in five hundred years nobody will remember you and in five billion years the Earth will be boiled into the sun: this can be a profound and defining truth about your existence that you reflexively repulse, that you flinch away from and refuse to accept or even think about, consistently pushing to the back of your mind whenever it sneaks up, for fear that if you allow it to sit in your mind even for a minute, it will swallow everything else. It can make everything you do, and everything anyone else does, seem meaningless, trivial to the point of absurdity. — Greta Christina

What the hell is your problem?" Sputtered Jason, pushing his wet hair back from his face.
"Oh I don't know. One minute you're kissing my girlfriend and the next you're throwing her down a hill. — Kathleen Peacock

Second, clarify what you really don't want. This is the key to framing the and question. Think of what you are afraid will happen to you if you back away from your current strategy of trying to win or stay safe. What bad thing will happen if you stop pushing so hard? Or if you don't try to escape? What horrible outcome makes game-playing an attractive and sensible option? — Kerry Patterson

The kid who throws his spaghetti from the high chair onto his father's face, he's pushing back. He's sticking it to the man as he sees it. I like that. So that is punk. — Henry Rollins

Tomorrow's leaders will not lead dictating from the front, nor pushing from the back. They will lead from the centre - from the heart — Rasheed Ogunlaru

She was so warm, her drenched clothes had almost dried. Her eyes were rolled back in her head. She started muttering, and I could've sworn she said, "Dung balls. Time to roll the dung balls."
It might've been funny - except for the fact that she was dying.
"That's Khepri talking," Setne explained. "He's the divine dung beetle, rolling the sun across the sky."
I didn't want to process that - the idea that the girl I liked had been possessed by a dung beetle and was now having dreams about pushing a giant sphere of flaming poo across the sky. — Rick Riordan

As though he sensed her thoughts, Gavin turned and met her gaze. Several seconds passed and he winked, as if to assure her that her worries were unnecessary. One side of his mouth raised in a lopsided smile, he turned back to her brothers, and Alex refocused on Ella and Vivi's conversation, pushing her questions to the back of her mind for the time being, and promising herself she'd find a moment alone with him later. — Sarah MacLean

You should really go inside now," he said.

Her glazed, unfocused stare was starting to clear, and the cranky look he was used to being levelled at him started to take shape. "And if I don't?"

"You want to fuck me on your doorstep?" he asked, his voice low and gravelly. "Call me tomorrow when you're sober. I'll be right over."

She jutted her chin defiantly - clearly pissed at him for trying to be the responsible one. "I won't need you after I've spent all night with a couple of multi-speed toyfriends and a box of batteries."

Linc shoved his hands on his hips, pushing back unhelpful images of her naked and pleasuring herself with a hot pink cock. "Go inside," he growled.

Before he did something crazy like offering to watch. — Amy Andrews

Every day you say 'No' to your dreams, you might be pushing back your dreams a whole 6 months — Eric Thomas

Longing becomes more poignant if in the distance you can't tell whether your friend is going away or coming back. The pushing away pulls you in. — Coleman Barks

People pushing the idea that everyone can live to be 100 are perpetuating a myth that goes all the way back to the Bible. — S. Jay Olshansky

The IWW [Industrial Workers of the World] has been accused of pushing women to the front. This is not true. Rather, the women have not been kept in back, and so they have naturally moved to the front. — Elizabeth Gurley Flynn

I really will never understand pushing back on comedians who are like, "I'm like a politician campaigning and shaking hands with these people. They're going to be okay." — Jen Kirkman

Emerson lifts his head. His eyes are two dark pools of desire, a clouded night's sky. He catches his breath a moment, unsteady, and then drops a kiss on my lips. Sweet. Almost tender. I barely have time to take it in before he grabs my shoulder and spins me around, pushing me so my bare chest is slammed up into the wall, my cheek pressed against the cold concrete.
I gasp, my heart skipping with the thrill. I can feel him up against me, a solid wall of muscle trapping me in place, the hard ridge of him pressed against the small of my back. I can't move, or see the expression on his face, only hear the hoarse groan Emerson sounds as he twists a handful of my hair and yanks it to one side, kissing a searing trail along the curve of my neck.
I whimper, bound and powerless against him, and oh God, loving every minute of it. — Melody Grace

Echo placed the expertly folded blanket back on the couch and smoothed it several times, insisting on finding perfection in a world where none existed. — Katie McGarry

He's a steamroller in my life and I like to be laid out flat. I like his hands on my chest, pushing me down whenever my back turns to the span of a bridge. His hands on my thighs, forcing me flat, flat, flat. Yes. Yes, I like that. — Laura A. Lord

He laid his hands on her head, pushing back the hood. He began to speak. His voice was soft, and the words were in no tongue she had ever heard. The sound of them came into her heart like rain falling. She grew still to listen. — Ursula K. Le Guin

Who can tell?
Your living is an organized hell.
The mansion of your mind just an oversized cell.
The pressure, everything is done to a measure.
In the sea of competition sunk like a treasure.
Like a feather falling slow spiraling to the floor.
Strung up like a broken violin to your course.
Opportunity is knocking at your door,
But you never left a welcome mat (It doesn't matter anymore.).
Or anyhow, but you're too late to turn back.
Fate pushing you into the wall like a thumbtack.
Ain't no comebacks in this game of life.
Roll the dice again,
Roll it once, never twice.

Keep on going, and taste the stars.
Keep on growing, and raise the bar.
You're living life for the As down to the Zs,
After one drop you got a fountain to seize.

Wanna break from the world, but the world wanna break you,
The weight makes your backbone curl up and make you. — Tablo

It's the obligation of all writers to shoulder up against the wall of the permissible and shove. Writers must shove no matter how large the obstacle and without concern for the strength of those pushing back from the other side. This shoving is made more difficult by the fact that those pushing back are very often the same shovers who moved the wall to where it now stands--they nudged it forward as far as they could stomach it, and cannot tolerate a millimeter more. — J.C. Hallman

I groan as I lose all my ability to hold back, and I lower my head while pushing her dress and bra down in unison to allow way for my mouth to close over the hard little nub. — C.M. Owens

When you are pushing yourself to not go back to the same well, you're gonna come up with something different, or you'll find songs that are different. — Hillary Scott

When I'd looked back up at the window, the white curtain flapping in the gusty breeze, I'd felt both sadness and relief, the oppositional tug of heaviness and lightness, one lifting me up, one pushing me down. I understood then, Lulu and I had started something, something I'd always wanted, but also something I was scared of getting. Something ai wanted more of. And, also, something I wanted to get away from. The truth and its opposite. — Gayle Forman

Hell's bells," I snarled, taking an involuntary step back. "Right here? Now? You could have given me a couple of minutes to get clear, dammit."
"And what fun would that be?" Maeve asked, pushing out her lower lip in a pout. "I am who I am, too. I love violence. I love treachery. I love your pain - and the best part, the part I love most, is that I am doing it for your own good." Her eyes gleamed white all the way around her irises. "This is me being one of the good guys. — Jim Butcher

Every time you do a good deed you shine the light a little farther into the dark. And the thing is, when you're gone that light is going to keep shining on, pushing the shadows back. — Charles De Lint

A group of people shouldered their way up to the bar counter at Neil's back, pushing him into Andrew. Andrew didn't budge beneath his weight. He was something solid to lean against, something violent and fierce and unmoving. Neil couldn't remember what it felt like to have someone hold him up. It was terrifying and liberating all at once. His life was out of his control now; he was giving it to Andrew and hoping Andrew would keep it safe. — Nora Sakavic

I did a pilot for Fox years ago called 'Faceless,' with Sean Bean. I always thought it was such a cool show because it was really raw. I thought we were pushing it. This was back at a time before there was the 'cable standard.' — Joe Carnahan

Everything I do has the tinge of the finite, of my own demise. At some point you either accept death or you just keep pushing it back as you get older and older. I've accepted it. — Robert Smith

I am connected to the past in a way that keeps me going forward. Every leap forward that I make is by reaching back and firmly getting a footing in the past, and pushing forward as hard as I can. — Steve Earle

I slammed the back door shut and gave Caspian a look.
He put both hands up in the air, "What? I didn't do anything."
"No. But you wanted to. And besides, we don't really know yet what can you do."
"Well, I know I can't make people disappear," he muttered darkly "or else he would have been gone a half an hour ago"
I was shocked at how serious he sounded, and then I looked into his eyes, "You're jealous!"
"He wanted to kiss you!"
Now I was dumbfounded, "How do you know that?"
"Because," he said, running a hand through his hair and pushing it back "It's what I'd want to do — Jessica Verday

Decades ago, women suffered through horrifying back-alley abortions. Or, they used dangerous methods when they had no other recourse. So when the Republican Party launched an all-out assault on women's health, pushing bills to limit access to vital services, we had to ask: Why is the GOP trying to send women back ... to the back alley? — Lisa Edelstein

when you get up every day, remember your time is the most precious asset you have and you are taking a step forward to reclaim your freedom. You are pushing against the drag that holds you back. Be cognizant of the price you may have to pay to achieve your goals. Know that these are down payments into the new and free you. Celebrate them. Without the pain, there is no coming alive. — K.J. Kilton

She takes a step toward me and slides her hands between my folded arms, pushing against them until they unlock. "Daniel Wesley you owe me a do-over since you made me kiss you in a crowded restaurant right next to a dirty diaper."
"It wasn't crowded," I interject.
She glares at me. "Put your hands on my face and push me against this wall and slip me some tongue! Now!"
Before she can laugh at herself, my hands are casing her face and her back is pressed against the wall of her house and my mouth is on hers. — Colleen Hoover

People are pushing, chesting up, there's much half-assed shoving and garbled smack talk about who dissed who and who crossed whose line and of course everybody's gotta have their boy's back. A melee, you'd call it. A fracas. Not quite a throw-down brawl right here on the sacred turf of Texas Stadium. — Ben Fountain

I couldn't believe I let him see me like this, unable to fend for myself. I fumed in disgust at my vulnerability. I didn't want Evan to think I needed protecting. I pulled back my torment and let the numb blanket envelop me, pushing away the stirred memories, the noise of the crowd, and the trembling that still lay beneath the surface. I stared at the flames licking at the darkness and everything was lost as I sank deeper into nothingness. — Rebecca Donovan

What's fate to you, opal? she asks.
opal leans back, too. oh, lots of things. lots and lots of things all pushed up against each other that makes something else happen. so much pushing it just can't happen any other way - unless you push back to make it not. — Mary E. Pearson

All right, all right," he said, with that gesture I'd come to hate: two open palms facing me and patting the air, as if pushing me away, pushing me down, pushing any tears I might be preparing to cry back into their ducts. — Kathleen Rooney

I'm glad the NCAA is pushing back the 3-point line a foot. I'm a big supporter of the 3-point shot; it's exciting. I hope the high schools adopt the same rule. — Morgan Wootten

We're pushing the limits of what a game is, and they think I'm beyond this limit. There will always be purists, but we've never got that push-back from businesses or consumers. Game dynamics are too powerful to leave bottled up in games. — Seth Priebatsch

[Olive's] left foot was bleeding through a wide swath of bandages onto the tarp it was resting on. The bowl next to her was full of blood.
Olive looked a little pale. "I don't think I should move," she said.
"What are you doing?" Roger shut the door behind him and stood with his back to it.
"I decided I might try to eat my toes," Olive said, closing her eyes. "But now that I've started, I don't think I should move."
Roger pushed himself off the wall and knelt down next to her. He unbuckled her silver belt and reached with it under her dress. He looped the belt around the top of her leg and tightened it. His hands were not shaking.
"Sit on the loose end," he said, pushing it under her. "I hope that works."
"You brought flowers," she said, blinking.
"Olive," he said. "You cut off your toes."
She looked down at the bowl. "Are they still toes?" she asked. — Amelia Gray

Shotgun!" announced Clary as Jace came back around the side of the van.
Alec grabbed for his bow, strapped across his back. "Where?"
"She means she wants the front seat," said Jace, pushing wet hair out of his eyes. — Cassandra Clare

Conquering any difficulty always gives one a secret joy, for it means pushing back a boundary line and adding to one's liberty. — Henri Frederic Amiel

I am increasingly attracted to restricting possibility in the poem by inflicting a form upon yourself. Once you impose some formal pattern on yourself, then the poem is pushing back. I think good poems are often the result of that kind of wrestling with the form. — Billy Collins

Dex gasped, his back arching at the feel of strong hands kneading his ass cheeks, pushing them apart as the head of his lover's slick cock aligned itself then pushed in slowly, the pressure both painful and exhilarating. God, it had been too long. Dex palmed his erection as he was entered, his lover burying deep inside him inch by inch. Hard muscles pressed up against his back, lowering Dex onto the mattress, his breath coming out ragged as his lover buried himself to the root and started rotating his hips, drawing out then pushing back in painfully slow. Dex moaned, his stomach filled with butterflies, the anticipation building like nothing he'd ever felt before. His whole body was on fire, and he writhed with need beneath the deliciously heavy weight. He couldn't remember Lou feeling like this. Had it always felt this damn good? Dex moaned when lips pressed against his skin beneath his ear. "Easy there, Rookie." Dex's — Charlie Cochet

I was down on myself so much for what I saw as not pushing back sometimes that it had never occurred to me that took its own strength. — Richelle Mead

Pushing thoughts of spanking and Simon from my mind, I went back to my DVDs. Spanking Simon. What a great name for a band. — Alice Clayton

You will be the first test subject, Tobias. Beatrice, however ... " She smiles. "You are too injured to be of much use to me, so your execution will occur at the conclusion of this meeting."
I try to hide the shudder that goes through me at the word "execution," my shoulder screaming with pain, and look up at Tobias. It's hard to blink tears back when I see the terror in Tobias's wide, dark eyes.
"No," says Tobias. His voice trembles, but his look stern as he shakes his head. "I would rather die."
"I'm afraid you don't have much of a choice in that matter," replies Jeanine lightly.
Tobias takes my face in this hands roughly and kisses me, the pressure of his lips pushing mine apart. I forget my pain and the terror of approaching death and for a moment, I am grateful that the memory of that kiss will be fresh in my mind as I meet my end. — Veronica Roth

I want to hear you say it, I say, pushing her hair from her eyes. She sighs and I can't hold back any longer. I stroke her cheek with my hand and lean in to kiss her soft lips. I half expect her to push me back, but I can't stop myself right now. I have to do it. I have to kiss her. I need to kiss her. — Melissa Brown

Iris arched her back, pushing her breast farther into Wyatt's hungry mouth. Water from the giant marble-tiled hotel shower rushed down over them, the sound of it hitting the glass door seeming loud in the enclosure. He lightly pressed down with his teeth and tugged her nipple, sending a pulsing sweep of need through her. The man was too talented with his tongue. — Katie Reus

The door jerked open and he glowered at her. "What do you want?"
"Hey! Why are you mad at me? I just want to talk to you."
"I don't want to talk," he said, pushing the door closed.
With inexplicable courage, she put her booted food in it's path. "Then maybe you can listen."
"No!" he bellowed.
"You're not going to scare me!" she shouted at him.
Then he roared like a wild animal. He bared his teeth, his eyes lit like there were gold flames in them, and the sound that came out of him was otherworldly.
She jumped back, her eyes as wide as hubcaps. "Okay," she said, putting up her hands, palms toward him. "Maybe you do scare me. A little."
-Ian and Marcie — Robyn Carr

You're becoming obessed, Theodore muttered, pushing Arabella out of his thoughts as best he could as he reached for his paperwork.
She pushed her way right back in.
Honestly, the amount of time Arabella spent in his head was enough to drive him mad. It was also making him short-tempered. — Jen Turano

He has me pinned on my back in record time, his mouth crashing against mine as we frantically devour one another. "Awesome speech," he murmurs, pushing my sweater up and planting his hot mouth against my equally hot skin. "Very motivational. — Siobhan Davis

He nuzzled in close to him, wanting more heat, more contact. Although he was inside, he wanted to get even closer. "Syn," Furi moaned and pushed his hips up to take in another inch. Syn groaned and clasped Furi's hips, pushing forward. "Oh. My. God. It's so tight, so hot, baby. Fuck." "Don't stop," Furi ordered. Syn kept going until his pelvis was flush against Furi's round ass. He could see Furi twisting and pulling on the sheets, his back rising and falling rapidly. Syn knew any minute the discomfort and burn Furi was feeling would morph into indescribable bliss. Syn pulled out slightly and eased back in just as slowly. Furi moaned and Syn did it again. "Fuuuuuck, — A.E. Via

It took me until my teenage years to realize that I was medicating with music. I was pushing back against my stupid school uniform, instructors who called me by my last name and my classmates, who, while friendly enough, were not at all inspiring. — Henry Rollins

I pressed forward, pushing my body along hers, and wrapped my arms around her waist. Some of the intensity of my anger dissipated and drained away. After a very long, steamy kiss, I broke away, breathing hard.
Rimmel's head collapsed against the wall and she stared up at me with unfocused hazel eyes. The flecks of color in the center were green today. "Romeo," she gasped.
I pulled back enough so I could lift her arm and grasp her fingers. She made a sound of protest when I pushed back the material of the shirt once more and stared down at the dark blotches marring her skin.
"How were you going to explain this to me?" I rumbled.
"I wasn't going to lie, it that's what you're implying," she snapped.
"Ah, baby." I groaned and lifted her wrist to press my lips to the marks. "I'm being a jerk."
"You said it ... " She agreed, letting the rest of her sentence fall away.
I smiled against her skin and then kissed her inner wrist once more. — Cambria Hebert

Don't turn around. Don't look back. Keep moving forward. Keep pushing. The pot of gold is at the end of the rainbow, not the beginning — Ziad K. Abdelnour

It was dusk when I drove back into downtown Detroit. I was annoyed by how much traffic there was at that hour of the day. Being a guy with two good legs who doesn't mind ankling, I hadn't realized the car situation had gotten so bad in the city. I almost had two smack-ups with people who refused to yield to me. Then I bumped someone from behind, intentionally, at the new flashing traffic light on Jefferson. The guy in the car had refused to move - he just sat there waiting because the light was red. After I bumped him (not that hard), the squirt hopped out of his car red in the face, and I must admit the sight of him gave me my first laugh in two days. He said, "Can't you see it's a red light?" I told him a red light is just a suggestion. Then I pressed the gas lightly and started pushing his car further out into the intersection whilst he stood there in disbelief. "Better get back in, your car is leaving without you," I said. — W.K. Berger

(Decadent style) is ingenious, complicated, learned, full of shades of meaning and research, always pushing further the limits of language ... forcing itself to express in thought that which is most ineffable, and in form the vaguest and most fleeting contours; listening that it may translate them to the subtle confidences of the neuropath, to the avowals of aging and depraved passion, and to the singular hallucinations of the fixed idea verging on madness ... In opposition to the classic style, it admits of shading, and these shadows teem and swarm with the larvae of superstitions, the haggard phantoms of insomnia, nocturnal terrors, remorse which starts and turns back at the slightest noise, monstrous dreams stayed only by impotence, obscure phantasies at which daylight would stand amazed, and all that the soul conceals of the dark, the unformed, and the vaguely horrible, in its deepest and furthest recesses. — Theophile Gautier

When the winds of life are pushing you back, THAT'S when you push forward the hardest. — Yvonne Pierre

You're so hot," Avery said, and the emotion was clear on his face. They had to be thinking the same thing. "I'm not," Kane said, kissing Avery's parted lips. "You're still the best looking man in the room. Any room," Avery declared. Kane slanted his mouth over Avery's and kissed him with everything he had. Those words stroked his heart and turned him on every single time he heard them. Avery fought for dominance in the kiss, pushing Kane against the sink. Kane worked to remove Avery's clothes as Avery worked the cap off the lube, coated his fingers, and slid them deep inside his ass. The delicious burn and stretch had him abandoning the kiss and tossing his head back as he let out a deep groan. — Kindle Alexander

And he came to understand that the burial of the broken wasn't eccentric - this was what people did every day, stuffing their brokenness down, pushing it down, smoothing the surface over, making the surface look like nothing was broken underneath. Because, if people see that you are broken, they will not want to stand with you. They will migrate away from you the way groups of people walking down the street will move aside when a shambling ranting man approaches. They will look at the ground and look away so that such a person becomes invisible. So if you are such a person or just an everyday person with some broken places, some places really broken, you will pull them back from view so you can mingle with others without being seen as broken. Because if you have the look of a broken thing, if you are pushed aside and turned from, you will never find your footing again in the world. — Lindsay Hill

The cycle hit the beach and spun out. Emma went into a rolling crouch as she flew free of it, keeping her elbows in, pushing the air hard out of her lungs. She turned her head as she hit the sand, slapping her palms down to roll herself forward, absorbing the impact of the fall through her arms and shoulders, her knees folding up into her chest. The stars wheeled crazily overhead as she spun, sucking in her breath as her body slowed its rolling. She came to a stop on her back, her hair and clothes full of sand and her ears full of the sound of the wildly crashing ocean ... — Cassandra Clare

Okay, write that down," Hermoine said to Ron, pushing his essay and a sheet covered in her own writing back to Ron, "and then copy out this conclusion that I've written for you."
"Hermoine, you are honestly the most wonderful person I've ever met," said Ron weakly, "and if I'm ever rude to you again
"
"
I'll know you're back to normal," said Hermoine. — J.K. Rowling

A man never forgets his body the way a woman does, because a man is pushing his body, a part of his body, forward, to make the act of love happen. He brings the jut of his body into the act of love, then takes it back, when it has had its way. — Susan Sontag