Short Tongue Quotes & Sayings
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Top Short Tongue Quotes

Advertising is not a rifle; it is a shotgun, and any campaign featuring outdoor boards of a cartoon animal inevitably will catch children in its spray. — Bob Garfield

India will be successful when UP, Bihar, West Bengal, Assam and other parts of North East India are strengthened. India cannot develop till the eastern part of the country develops. — Narendra Modi

What amazes me is that most days feel useless. I don't seem to accomplish anything-just a few pages, most of which don't seem very good. Yet, when I put all those wasted days together, I somehow end up with a book of which I'm very proud. — Louis Sachar

He slowed to a walk. As he approached her he was surprised at just how pretty she was. She looked a little like Maureen O'Hara in those old pirate movies. His writer's mind kicked in and he thought, This woman could break my heart. I could crash and burn on this woman. I could lose this woman, drink heavily, write profound poems, and die in the gutter of turberculosis over this woman.
This was not an unusual reaction for Tommy. He had it often, mostly with girls who worked the drive-through windows at fast-food places. He would drive off with the smell of fries in his car and the bitter taste of unrequited love on his tongue. It was usually good for at least one short story. — Christopher Moore

Read poetry every day of your life. Poetry is good because it flexes muscles you don't use often enough. Poetry expands the senses and keeps them in prime condition. It keeps you aware of your nose, your eye, your ear, your tongue, your hand.
And, above all, poetry is compacted metaphor or simile. Such metaphors, like Japanese paper flowers, may expand outward into gigantic shapes. Ideas lie everywhere through the poetry books, yet how rarely have I heard short story teachers recommending them for browsing.
What poetry? Any poetry that makes your hair stand up along your arms. Don't force yourself too hard. Take it easy. Over the years you may catch up to, move even with, and pass T. S. Eliot on your way to other pastures. You say you don't understand Dylan Thomas? Yes, but your ganglion does, and your secret wits, and all your unborn children. Read him, as you can read a horse with your eyes, set free and charging over an endless green meadow on a windy day. — Ray Bradbury

He's been looking at my file. So the question has to be right there on the tip of his tongue right about now, waiting to be spoken. But he keeps up the 'act professional' charade, makes it feel like he sees this kind of thing all the time, but in reality he's having a little fun with it. I'm the story he's going to tell at a bar after making my name anonymous. I'm the case study that's going to become dinner conversation when he takes some rich bitch out next week. He's going to do it to make himself look well-balanced, prove how normal he is in a world full of weirdoes. In short, he's going to look 'normal' at my expense. — Cyma Rizwaan Khan

I don't know how to be myself. It's like I'm permanently outside myself. Like, like you could push your hands straight through me if you wanted to. And I can see the type of man I want to be versus the type of man I actually am and I know that I'm doing it but I'm incapable of what needs to be done. I'm like Pinocchio, a wooden boy. Not a real boy. And it kills me. — Richard Ayoade

Now, why was diagonal cutting better than cutting straight across? Because the corner of a triangularly cut slice gave you an ideal first bite. In the case of rectangular toast, you had to angle the shape into your mouth, as you angle a big dresser through a hall doorway: you had to catch one corner of your mouth with one corner of the toast and then carefully turn the toast, drawing the mouth open with it so that its other edge could clear; only then did you chomp down. Also, with a diagonal slice, most of the tapered bite was situated right up near the front of your mouth, where you wanted it to be as you began to chew; with the rectangular slice, a burdensome fraction was riding out of control high on the dome of the tongue. One subway stop before mine, I concluded that there had been logic behind the progress away from the parallel and toward the diagonal cut, and that the convention was not, as it might first have appeared, merely an affection of short-order cooks. — Nicholson Baker

There's a short circuit between my brain and my tongue, thus "Leave me the fuck alone" comes out as "Well, maybe. Sure. I guess I can see your point. — David Sedaris

The world crashed on me. I smiled like an idiot as I stood up and rushed away hoping he'd forget we had ever spoken. I walked away from the Company and Sonia, but mostly from Giovanni. I had finally met an awesome guy who did not look like a thug and he was four years older than me? — Gaia B. Amman

If we are to make progress, we must not repeat history but make new history. We must add to the inheritance left by our ancestors. If we may make new discoveries and inventions in the phenomenal world, must we declare our bankruptcy in the spiritual domain? Is — Paramahansa Yogananda

The first sensation she registered upon waking was the warmth of a body pressed against hers. Robbie? She turned toward the heat and pulled the blankets off her head. A blast of rancid breath popped her eyes open. A tongue lolled inches away from her mouth. A short yip signaled Avery's happiness she was awake, and he licked her across her lips and cheek. She wiped the doggy saliva off her cheek. Getting nearly frenched by a dog was a unique way to wake up. She laughed and rubbed Avery behind the ears. — Laura Trentham

The short-cut to popularity is to lend everyone your ears, instead of giving them your tongue — Frank Bettger

He stood just near the club's steps, his back to me along the foggy English night, and it was not until I'd passed him and began my ascent of the many steps that I'd heard his voice. The voice I knew, in all my years of living upon the Earth, that I would never forget. Even then I had known this. It was the slippery way of his tongue, or perhaps it was the coolness of which his words passed across the air and slid its way into my ears as though they were only meant for me. — S.C. Parris

I'm more of a sprinter than a marathoner when it comes to many aspects of life. For example, when I'm running. Over short distances
up to two yards
I can run faster than cheap panty hose on an itchy porcupine. But over long distances, I'm not so impressive.
I try to compensate for my lack of long-distance endurance by having good form. I'm told that my running style is quite majestic. That's probably because I learned to run by watching nature films in which leopards chased frightened zebras. Now when I run, I open my eyes real wide and let my tongue slap the side of my face. If you saw it, you'd be saying, "That's very majestic." And then you'd run like a frightened zebra. That's why my homeowners association voted to ask me to do my jogging with a pillowcase over my head. — Scott Adams

I was honest with her."
"You gave her your version-or mine?"
She flushed with angry color. How short that truce was! He expected her to play the role of the happy bride when he couldn't keep his insults to himself?
"I gave her facts,not assumptions. And this isn't going to work if you're going to continue to deliberately provoke me at every turn!"
He raked an exasperated hand through his long hair. "I'm sorry,that was unintentional. I will make every effort to guard my tongue in mixed company."
She narrowed her eyes on him, guessing, "But not when we're alone?"
"The pretense is for others, not ourselves. Neither of us is delusional."
"Of course not,far be it for me to think there's any reality in this. But if you think I can portray genuine smiles and bubbly happiness while around others when I'm so furious that I'm plotting your demise,well, think again! — Johanna Lindsey

Father lied.
The knowledge tasted bitter on her tongue. She folded the
orb into a scarf she'd brought. It didn't conceal its light, but it was
better than carrying the orb through the halls exposed. — Jennifer M. Zeiger

I'm an actor. It's like being a bricklayer. Sometimes I'm building a little wall, and the next time I'm building a palace. — Corbin Bernsen

"Um, so, how do I work in the panties and toothbrush? I mean, it's not something you share over dinner," I pointed out, trying not to blush but feeling the heat.
"He's got his tongue in your mouth," Krys began, "and he'll have his tongue in your mouth. You're on the couch, and you'll be on the couch. When he takes his tongue out of your mouth, find a way to whisper it in his ear. That'll speed things up."
"Real quick," Twyla agreed on a short nod. — Kristen Ashley

It occurred to her that mercy was the ability to stop, if only for a moment. There was no mercy where there could be no stopping. — Frank Herbert

Most English speakers do not have the writer's short fuse about seeing or hearing their language brutalized. This is the main reason, I suspect, that English is becoming the world's universal tongue: English-speaking natives don't care how badly others speak English as long as they speak it. French, once considered likely to become the world's lingua franca, has lost popularity because those who are born speaking it reject this liberal attitude and become depressed, insulted or insufferable when their language is ill used. — Russell Baker

And if you had no tongue, no celebrating language, you'd do this: cross your hands at the wrist with palms facing towards you; place your crossed wrists over your heart (the middle of your chest, anyway); then move your hands outwards a short distance, and open them towards the object of your love. It's just as eloquent as speech. — Julian Barnes

His hand gently caressed my leg as his lips nibbled on mine, and the tip of his tongue began asking permission, teasing me with short licks of my tongue that suggested so much more. I could feel myself breathing more heavily, until he slowly pulled away. "We still have a film to watch," he whispered with a wink, before settling back into his seat. — Zack Love

Then she is on me. Her soft, hot body collapses onto my own ravenous frame. She pushes my legs open with her knees and pulls my arms above my head with her hands, holding me a willing hostage. For one long moment we are eye to eye. Her breasts press down into my nipples, goading them but offering no release, and then her lips come crashing down on mine. She kisses me as though she already owns me; exploring my mouth with her tongue, dragging it aggressively from one side of my lips to the other. — Felicity Brandon

If at first you don't succeed - give it up. It isn't worth the pain. — Matt Groening

We are to blame for this destruction, we who don't speak your tongue and don't know how to keep quiet either. We who didn't come by boat, who dirty up your doorsteps with our dust, who break your barbed wire. We who came to take your jobs, who dream of wiping your shit, who long to work all hours. We who fill your shiny clean streets with the smell of food, who brought you violence you'd never known, who deliver your dope, who deserve to be chained by neck and feet. We who are happy to die for you, what else could we do? We, the ones who are waiting for who knows what. We, the dark, the short, the greasy, the shifty, the fat, the anemic. We the barbarians. — Yuri Herrera

Becca, his short legged, long bodied cow dog crept out from under the porch and grinned at him. Her long pink tongue lolled from one side of her mouth. Theo crouched and tugged one of the dog's oversized triangular ears. "You should be in the barn, helping Dad and the rest of the crew with the cows." Becca stared at him, her thoughts clear in her mismatched eyes. If he wasn't working, neither was she. — Jess Schira

She had a reputation throughout the Clans for a sharp tongue and a short temper, as well as fearlessness in battle and deep pride in ShadowClan. She played a vital role in helping establish the new territory beside the lake when she took on the troublesome kittypets who lived in a Twoleg den amid the pine trees. Even as she got older and more frail, Russetfur remained the ShadowClan deputy, keeping younger warriors in line with her brisk words and high expectations. She was killed by Lionblaze in a battle over the clearing between ShadowClan and ThunderClan; her death was a shock to everyone, and there were suggestions that such an old cat should not have been allowed to fight. But it was the death Russetfur would have chosen for herself, bravely and in the midst of battle on behalf of her beloved ShadowClan. — Erin Hunter

The second glimpse came through Squirrel Nutkin; through it only, though I loved all the Beatrix Potter books. But the rest of them were merely entertaining; it administered the shock, it was a trouble. It troubled me with what I can only describe as the Idea of Autumn. It sounds fantastic to say that one can be enamored of a season, but that is something like what happened; and, as before, the experience was one of intense desire. And one went back to the book, not to gratify the desire (that was impossible - how can one possess Autumn?) but to reawake it. And in this experience also there was the same surprise and the same sense of incalculable importance. It was something quite different from ordinary life and even from ordinary pleasure; something, as they would now say, "in another dimension." The — C.S. Lewis

arse' is a traditional usage - nothing to be ashamed of." The Baron nodded. "It has a commendable grown-up sharpness to it. 'Ass,' on the other hand, is quite frankly for spinsters and little children." Tiffany turned the words on her tongue for a moment and said, "Yes, sir. I think that is probably the long and the short of it. — Terry Pratchett

Do we get a bedtime story?" Otto asked cheekily. "Oh yes, of course. I think we'll have one of my favorites; it's called 'The Little Boy and the Tranquilizer Gun." Raven smiled in a rather unsettling way. — Mark Walden

A long tongue is a signe of a short hand.
[A long tongue is a sign of a short hand.] — George Herbert

It's human nature - we want to believe our children, our families, our President! — Richard Gere

As though you read my mind, you steady my head
between your hands and eye me intensely. Then your
mouth is on mine, hungry and aggressive. Your teeth
skim my lips, claiming me and I feel your tongue probing
inside of my mouth. The kiss ends as dramatically as it
began, leaving me reeling and wanting more. — Felicity Brandon

Listen to them again: 'I love you.' Subject, verb, object: the unadorned, impregnable sentence. The subject is a short word, implying the self-effacement of the lover. The verb is longer but unambiguous, a demonstrative moment as the tongue flicks anxiously away from the palate to release the vowel. The object, like the subject, has no consonants, and is attained by pushing the lips forward as if for a kiss. 'I love you.' How serious, how weighted, how freighted it sounds. — Julian Barnes

Just say "I'm sorry." It's not a tongue twister. It does not need repeating multiple times. The phrase is simple and short, easy to articulate. And the last time I checked, it sounded just as good - if not better - in a whisper. So just say it; say "I'm sorry. — Richelle E. Goodrich

It needs more than ever to be stressed that the best and truest educators are parents under God. The greatest school is the family. In learning, no act of teaching in any school or university compares to the routine task of mothers in teaching a babe who speaks no language the mother tongue in so short a time. No other task in education is equal to this. The moral training of the children, the discipline of good habits, is an inheritance from the parents to the children which surpasses all other. The family is the first and basic school of man. — Rousas John Rushdoony

Or I can forgive and forget ... Oh, but my treasure, it is so much less exhausting. You only have to forgive once. To resent, you have to do it all day, every day. You have to keep remembering all the bad things ... we always have a choice. — M.L. Stedman

I was terrified of my weakness, of my sharp tongue, of
my every flaw. I was terrified that this moment, my chance to
live in happiness for however short a time we may have had,
would be ruined because I was simply not carved out of the
same wood as happiness, and that my grain was too twisted
to ever take its form. — Amy Lane

Of little use, the man you may suppose,
Who says in verse what others say in prose;
Yet let me show a poet's of some weight,
And (though no soldier) useful to the state,
What will a child learn sooner than a song?
What better teach a foreigner the tongue?
What's long or short, each accent where to place
And speak in public with some sort of grace? — Alexander Pope