Shot Glass Quotes & Sayings

He loved her eyes. They were always changing, and Lucas liked to catalogue all their different colors in his mind. When she laughed, her eyes were pale amber, like honey sitting in a glass jar on a sunny window. When he kissed her, they darkened until they were the rich color of mahogany leather, but with strips of red and gold thread shot through. Right now they were turning dark - inviting him to lower his lips to hers. — Josephine Angelini

You and those shot-glass eyes, deep swirling pools of 80-proof firewater, with the depth and profundity of Saturn's spinning pulsars ... — Brandi L. Bates

If you wanted to kill me, why haven't you smothered me in my sleep?" "No sport in that." She gestured towards the ceiling. "Can I expect to be strung up on that bar and gutted like a deer?" He looked up at the bar and frowned. "Too much sport. Lots of heave-hoeing. Big mess to clean up after. Instead, why don't you just drink the poison-laced whiskey?" He extended the glass toward her again and when she didn't move he said, "No? Okay then." He shot the drink. She might not want the edge taken off but he sure as hell did. — Sandra Brown

A daddy-long-legs shot from corner to corner and hit the lamp globe. The wind blew straight dashes of rain across the window, which flashed silver as they passed through the light. A single leaf tapped hurriedly, persistently, upon the glass. There was a hurricane out at sea. — Virginia Woolf

A double shot of Laphroaig twenty-five-year-old, neat, please. And ask the bartender for a small shot glass of spring water, non-sparkling," Gabriel instructed without making eye contact with the waitress.
The waitress left, and Rachel began to laugh. "Big brother, only you could make ordering a drink sound pretentious."
-Rachel to Gabriel — Sylvain Reynard

Don't get offended at me for this," he whispered, then his warmth disappeared and I whimpered at the loss. The hand not holding the shot glass came around my hips and squeezed me in close to let me know he heard that.
"Here's to honor. Get on her. Stay on her. If you fall off. Get back on her. If you can't cum in her. Cum on her! Happy Birthday Man!" Jaxon shouted in his deep voice. — Kimberly Lauren

Here's to losing Emerson, and finding Em again! I raised the shot glass in the air. — Kimberly Lauren

You can make a very heavy and kind of dangerous 3-way shot glass out of a bowling ball. — Demetri Martin

The entire partying lifestyle was superficial in my experience, and most of my friendships were as deep as a shot glass and as short-lived as a pack of cigarettes. — Kate Madison

For way down there, in a shot glass's false bottom, everything was bound to turn out fine after all. — Nelson Algren

The way a musical can make us feel is unlike anything else, in song and particularly in dance. I think people fly through plate-glass windows when they get shot because movies don't have dance scenes any more. This is what we do instead. — Joss Whedon

Doug returned five minutes later and shook his head. "Sorry kid. She's single, but she doesn't think you're her type. She's into the Goth and vampire scene. You're too mainstream for her." I was sipping a glass of water and nearly choked on it.
"That," said Peter, as soon as Doug was gone, "is what we call irony."
"How is that possible?" exclaimed Cody. "I am a vampire. I should be exactly what she wants."
"Yeah, but you don't look like one," I said. If Gabrielle had been a Trekkie, he might have had a shot tonight. — Richelle Mead

Aidan," ...
He held up his finger. "One second, babe. I gotta finish telling Pesh this story."
"But my water broke."
Without taking his eyes of Pesh, Aidan slid his glass of water over to her. "Here take mine."
If the situation hadn't been dire, Megan would have laughed at how oblivious Aidan was. Pesh leaned forward in his seat. "Um, Aidan, I think-"
He didn't get a chance to finish. Instead, water splashed across the side of Aidan's face. He shot out of his chair before whirling around to Emma. "What the hell, Em?"
"My. Water. Broke," she muttered through gritted teeth.
"Oh shit," he replied. — Katie Ashley

Like a squash ball, locked inside an all-glass court, played in a never ending Sisyphean rally between two invisible and equally able opponents, that's what the Digital State first felt like. A descriptor in search of a winning shot, to break the deadlock, to set it free. — Simon Pont

and produce as a result of their inundation with industrial herbicides and pesticides which, of course, make their way, again, into the Russian River. Then into the Pacific Ocean. And ultimately, into all the fish in your local supermarket. What is said about the environmental impact of vineyards in Sonoma County? Fucking nothing. It is our sacred cow." Darren raised his shot glass again, "Long live the sacred cow." Colin — Rob Loughran

Life is a field of corn. Literature is the shot glass it distills down into. Lorrie Moore — Mary Karr

It's easiest to disguise what you're doing when you're shuffling or dealing," Emery explained, "or when your opponent is distracted by something that's cooking in the kitchen."
Ceony opened her mouth to protest, but instead closed it and shot him a disapproving look. He had won the game last Tuesday when Ceony had cinnamon rolls in the oven. She had been worried they would burn. Perhaps that's why Emery never kept the money she lost, regardless of the amount. The cheater. — Charlie N. Holmberg

Marie came with the brandy and poured a glass for Rebekah - then one for Ian, at Rebekah's gesture, and when Jamie made a small polite noise in his throat, half-filled his cup, pouring in more tea on top of it. The taste was peculiar, but he didn't really mind. The pain had gone off to the far side of the room; he could see it sitting over there, a wee glowering sort of purple thing with a bad-tempered expression on its face. He laughed at it, and Ian frowned at him. "What are ye giggling at?" Jamie couldn't think how to describe the pain beastie, so he just shook his head, which proved a mistake - the pain looked suddenly gleeful and shot back into his head with a noise like tearing cloth. The room spun and he clutched the table with both hands. — Diana Gabaldon

Big Jason walked into the club, stared at the band beginning their sound check and quickly walked over to the bar. Lily looked up from her rinsing and smiled.
"Big Jason Gulliver, back in town. Raquel said Godzilla returned to Tokyo, I wondered how soon you'd drop by here".

"Front me a soda, Lily. How's the night club racket?" Jason barked over the noisy band.
"Guys still hitting on me, including your stupid friend King Steve", Lily shot a jet of soda pop from her beverage gun into a water glass.
Jason chortled. "He's slow on the draw. You're a fuckin' dyke but a cool fuckin' dyke. I don't even care if you sleep with my girl".
"Why thank you, Caveman", Lily smiled, handing him the soda with a cherry on top. — Andy Seven

If last night proved anything, it's that life is a strong drink served up in an extremely short - and fragile - shot glass. — Samantha Sotto

I shot up out of my chair. "Change of plans. Finish your drink so we can go."
Jay responded flatly, "Go where exactly?"
"I'm not sure but we'll know it when we see it."
He looked at his glass and back to me. "Why bother?"
I looked him the eye, seeing pain there and forcing myself not to flinch from it. "Because pity parties suck" I started walking toward the exit and over my shoulder asked "You coming?"
He downed the rest of his drink and followed me out the door. — Amanda Kelly

Hulk sat there silently for a moment, playing with the empty shot glass in his hand. "Well, I love you, too," Hulk mumbled quietly as he quickly stood and walked toward the kitchen, put the shot glass in the sink, and went to his bedroom. Clint watched in amazement as the big cop left the room. Even though he knew it to be true, Clint was shocked that Hulk had actually said it. As he sat there letting it sink in, he felt a single tear roll down each cheek. Little did Clint know that in Hulk's bedroom, the tears were flooding the big man's eyes as he buried his face in his pillow and bawled as he hadn't done since he was a boy. — William T. Prince

The shot glass is half drunk. — Brian Spellman

Wooo!' he said, slamming his shot glass down and coughing a bit. 'That's good stuff.'
I agreed heartily. 'Shall we do another one?' I asked.
'Oh no,' Jesus said quietly, his eyes growing round. 'This is one of those situations where I have to stop and ask myself, what would I do? — Kevin Hearne

Shot Dunyun: No bullshit, but I never leave the house without a mix for anything: Falling in love. Witnessing a death. Disappointment. Impatience. Traffic. I carry a mix for any human condition. Anything really good or bad happens to me, and my way not to overreact - like, to distance my emotions - is to locate the exact perfect sound track for that moment. Even the night Rant died, my automatic first thought was: Philip Glass's Violin Concerto II, or Ravel's Piano Concerto in G Major? — Chuck Palahniuk

Because you care. You'll always care; it's who you are, Steele. Steele growled at the sound of his best friend's voice in his head and pulled the half-empty bottle of whiskey back out of the cabinet, this time not bothering with a shot glass. He tipped it back and gulped a couple times, wincing at the harsh burn. He'd do it until he couldn't hear that voice anymore. Until he could get some peace, maybe even some sleep. You won't find peace unless you're fighting for what's right. Gulp. Gulp. He — A.E. Via

She stared, wide eyed as glass-walled elevators shot up fifty-two floors like pods in a launch tube. Everything - from the glaringly bright carpet swirling with psychedelic lines; to the hotel's open ceiling ringed by storey after storey of balconies, the distant roof so high it made her head spin; to the people decked out in cosplay - was torn from a science fiction novel. It seemed Liv had spent the last eighteen years in search of her people, and in one sudden explosion of fate, they'd all been brought together in this place in time. Her eyes filled with tears as a sudden awareness filled her.
They were all nerds. — Danika Stone

When life gives you lemons ... ask for a shot glass and a bottle of vodka, because this is gonna be a long day. — Keydia Marie

Hey, I'm still the walking wounded, you know," he protested.
"You were shot on the other side," Rosie said drily. "And since when do you and Dalton agree on anything?"
"We are men." Pip and Dalton straightened up. "We settle out differences through fighting and drink." He held up the fine crystal tumbler, then frowned at it. "Though maybe not in this kind of glass. — Lara Morgan

The shot glass is half smashed. — Brian Spellman

I imagined the sound of whips on black backs and the roar of the overseer over the cry of mothers being separated from their babies. I pulled on all the strength I had not to shot out every valuable leaded pane of glass in that stinking house. — Linda Leigh Hargrove

and well-informed insights into their insular world. We all took our seats as a picture of a smiling Paul Verdun in toque was projected up onto screens. White jackets streamed from the kitchen: the amuse-bouche, a shot glass filled with a bite-sized baby octopus cooked in its "natural essence," extra virgin olive oil from Puglia, and a single — Richard C. Morais

Falling Embers, 90 percent alcohol content. That would do. After pouring the liquor, he tossed the shot back, dumping the contents into his mouth and feeling it burn a hot trail down to his stomach. Holy shades of hell! It was like swallowing and shitting flames. Even his ass was on fire. He grimaced, then tipped the bottle to refill his glass and gulped it down too. He heard Uriel say something, but it melted along with the fumes oozing out of his ears. Feeling fortified by the malt, he replaced the cap on the bottle. — Cecilia Robert

I built a leprechaun trap that was made to look like a tiny hotel. There was a ramp where the leprechaun could walk into the hotel, see a Lego pot of gold on the other side, try to reach it, fall through a trap door, go through a tube, wind up in a biscuit tin, and be trapped. My mom, encouraging my madness, told me that the leprechaun might escape and that I needed a shot glass of whiskey down there to keep him occupied while he was in there. — Alex Hirsch

That wasn't so bad," I decided, after downing the shot. Maybe I was getting my rhythm.
"Because you threw it over your shoulder," Scarface told me, looking smug.
"Did not." I looked behind me, only to see an outraged vamp with fey wine dripping down his face. "Oops."
"It was for luck," Ray said defensively, wrapping both my hands around a glass.
"Drink!"
I drank. — Karen Chance

regrets, Palazzo," Luca said wryly. "Now that you're here, you know Shane won't let you leave until everyone's smashed." Rafe grimaced. "True." Luca raised his glass. "To your fortune, amico." Knowing that his friend was not referring to his material possessions, Rafe raised his glass in return, murmuring quietly, "I wish you the same luck, amico." After downing his third shot, — Marian Tee

She threw the door open. The room seemed to be a sort of library, the walls lined with books. It was brightly lit, light streaming through a tall picture window. In the middle of the room stood Jace. He wasn't alone, though-not by a long shot. There was a dark-haired girl with him, a girl Clary had never seen before, and the two of them were locked together in a passionate embrace — Cassandra Clare

Life is a strong drink served up in an extremely short, and fragile shot glass. We shouldn't waste a single drop. — Samantha Sotto

He had a mighty urge to pull out his pistol and let loose in every directon, right into the coffeehouse, smack through it's glass windows, till there was nothing but crashing and tinkling, right into the middle of the ruck of cars or simply into the middle of one of the gigantic buildings across the way, those ugly, tall, menacing buildings, or into the air, straight up, into the heavens, yes, into the hot sky, into the horrible, oppressive, vaporous, pigeon blue-grey sky, bursting it, sending the leaden lid crashing with one shot, smashing down and pulverizing everything and burying it all, all of it, the whole miserable, dreary, loud, stinking world ... — Patrick Suskind

Somewhere en route to Port Via in the New Hebrides, for my last meal I serve dinner the way I've always dreamed.
Anybody caught buttering their bread before breaking it, I promise to shoot them.
Anybody who drinks their beverage with food still in their mouth will also be shot.
Anybody caught spooning toward themself will be shot.
Anybody caught without a napkin in their lap-
Anybody caught using their fingers to move their food-
Anybody who begins eating before everybody is seved-
Anybody who blows on food to cool it-
Anybody who talks with food in their mouth-
Anybody who drinks white wine holding their glass by the bowl or drinks red wine holding their glass by the stem-
You will each of you get a bullet in the head.
We are 30,000 feet above earth, going 455 miles per hour. We're at a pinnacle of human achievement, we are going to eat this meal as civilized human beings. — Chuck Palahniuk

I recognized Meg's swirly handwriting and crooked my index finger into the side of the envelope to rip it open. There was no letter. Just a picture.
A picture of Meg holding a picture of me.
The word HOME echoed through my body like a rifle shot. — Laura Anderson Kurk

Five hours after presenting a ... lecture on cancer before an audience of about 400 in L.A., the windshield was shot out of my car on the road back to San Francisco. The next night the glass window in the tailgate (the back window) was shot out (300 miles removed from the first shooting) ... The late Arthur T. Harris, MD, was threatened by two men with assassination if he continued to use Laetrile. — Ernst T. Krebs

Some fast food places, they have that ketchup pump. It's like a keg. They give you the paper shot glass. I always like to hang around there, try and meet the ladies. "Here, I'll pump for you. You come to this Wendy's often? My roommate and I, we got a pony pump back at my dorm. Here's an extra shot " — Jim Gaffigan

Looking at dead bodies wasn't really very high on her Things-Chess-Enjoys list. And yeah, her total knowledge on what people in relationships did might fill a shot glass - especially if she used extra-large letters to write SEX - but something told her "looking at dead bodies" wasn't a generally accepted togetherness-type activity, either. — Stacia Kane

I touched my scalp where Sula had wrapped the cloth. It still burned, but it made me feel important. I'd been wounded in combat. Anyone could break a leg or dislocate a sholder, but how many people get shot? I could tell by the way Will was looking at me that he was impressed too and not a little bit jealous. I would have quickly traded the head wound, however, for a glass of clean water. — Cameron Stracher

You'll be my glass of wine
I'll be your shot of whiskey — Blake Shelton

Arms wrapped around [Darcy's] abdomen from the back. Fingers felt for the spot above his navel. Two fists pushed in and upward. Darcy felt a violent squeezing sensation. The offending prawn shot out of his gullet, flew across the table, and knocked Tate's wine glass over...Tate looked down at the partially chewed shrimp in disgust and covered it with his napkin. — Donna Warner & Gloria Ferris

Randy stared into the glass he held in his hand, gazing into its cobra eyes. A double shot of thirty-year-old single malt whisky. You can't be an alcoholic when you only drink top shelf. Right? — Ted Magnuson

I braced myself for something wise and useful. Dink, like most Bubbas, could be quite insightful and kind when you least expected it.
"Always remember one thing in this life," he said, pausing to stare at the koala's big brown glass eyes. I knew he woulda shot it if we were really in the wild.
"What is it, Dink? What should I remember? I could really use some perspective here."
"Always remember ... you can't drink all day if you don't start in the mornin'. — Celia Rivenbark

When he was done adding sloe gin and grenadine, Danny shoved the glass across the counter to Drew. "Try that and tell me what it needs."
Drew took a sip, then coughed and set the glass down. "That's awful."
Danny scowled and tossed a dripping tablespoon at him. "You're awful. I'm looking for constructive feedback, asshole. What does it need?"
Drew threw the tablespoon back. "It needs to be taken out and shot."
"Make your own damn drink, Mr. Mixology. — Brenna Yovanoff

I don't reply. Surely Tucker wouldn't bring someone back to a room knowing that I'll be in the bed too, first shot. He wouldn't do anything with her after last night, this morning and this afternoon, second shot. Although he is all over her and has been since we got here, third shot. Maybe I didn't drop my knickers quick enough, fourth shot. He's probably laughing at me for everything I told him about the dream and stuff I wince and slam the now empty jager bomb glass down. — R.S. Burnett

Brooke turned to Luke. "Rescue me from this madness, Merritt. Tell me you retain some hold on your faculties of reason. What say you to the man-deer?"
"Werestag," Portia corrected.
Luke circled the rim of his glass with one thumb. "A cursed, half-human creature, damned to an eternity of solitude in Denny's back garden?" He shot Cecily a strange, fleeting glance. "I find the idea quite plausible. — Tessa Dare

Glass shot an irritated glance at Red, who had an uncanny knack for spotting problems and an utter inability for crafting solutions. — Michael Punke

He got up from the floor and reached for the whisky bottle. Nick held out his glass. His eyes fixed on it while Bill poured. Bill poured the glass half full of whisky. "Put in your own water," he said. "There's just one more shot." "Got any more?" Nick asked. "There's plenty more but dad only likes me to drink what's open." "Sure," said Nick. "He says opening bottles is what makes drunkards," Bill explained. "That's right," said Nick. He was impressed. He had never thought of that before. He had always thought it was solitary drinking that made drunkards. — Ernest Hemingway,

I shot forward, gripping my knees. "I do remember something! It's not major, but Seth was heading north. He's probably heading to the Catskills."

"That's something to go on." Marcus glanced at his glass, as if he couldn't fathom how it was empty. "He won't reach it. Not with the Khalkotauroi surrounding the place."

Olivia shuddered. "You think they can actually stop him?"

"They'll slow him down." Marcus pushed off the desk, heading for the door. "Anyone else in need of refreshments?"

"You sharing?" Deacon perked up.

Surprisingly, Aiden didn't caution him. Perhaps a little underage wine drinking wasn't our biggest concern at the moment. Our group scattered, some following Marcus on the wine run. Only after they left did I realize that the Dean of the Covenant was supplying alcohol to minors.

This really was an alternate universe. — Jennifer L. Armentrout