Slicked Quotes & Sayings

When I was sixteen I was pretending to be Charlie Musselwhite. I had a long raincoat on, my hair slicked back, and the shades. — Dan Aykroyd

Thus conscience does make cowards of us all; And thus the native hue of resolution Is slicked o'er with the pale cast of thought — William Shakespeare

If you touch me right now," Jack rasped, cutting through the silence, "I'm taking it as a yes to us." He leaned his sweat-slicked body closer, and my heart fell right though me. "And I'm never," he drew the word out, "letting you go. — Natasha Boyd

Michael staggered to his feet and turned to face his worst nightmare. Baal stood before him, a smirk on his face. He wore his signature grey, pinstripe, three-piece suit, and casually twisted his pinky ring on his long and slender well-manicured finger. As it rotated Michael caught a glimpse of the rubies in the skull's eye sockets. His black hair was slicked back, the sight of his false appearance made Michael sick to his stomach. — Wendy Owens

At forty-one, he was still the quintessential bad boy - charming, at ease in his skin, and great-looking, with deep blue eyes, slicked-back brown hair, and the kind of full, sensuous mouth that bad boys seemed to have an unfair market on. — Kate White

One glimpse of that glistening, tan back, those rangy shoulders, the sweat-slicked black hair, and his libido woke up and started to pray to Cialis, goddess of horny middle-aged men. — Amy Lane

Adriana loved even the rank animal smell of the man's body, her sweat-slicked breasts and belly flattened beneath him, and her arms and legs clutching him as a drowning woman might clutch another person to save her life. Don't don't don't don't leave me. DON'T LEAVE ME. As in animal copulation the frenzy is to be locked together not out of sentiment or choice but physical compulsion. As if bolts of electric current ran through both their bodies and would only release them from each other when it ceased. — Joyce Carol Oates

He looked like the devil. His skin ruddy, his eyes a glowing yellow. Jet black hair slicked back on his head hung to his shoulders. But the demons didn't call him Devil, or Satan, or even Lucifer. They called him ...
Azazel. — Michelle K. Pickett

She walked confidently next to him. Her black hair was slicked down and tucked behind her ear. "To better fight Guardians with, my pretty," she had told him earlier that morning. — Marie Johnston

I walked back to the kitchen, each foot a lead weight. Delia stood there, holding a sponge and staring down at the linoleum. "Will carpet cleaner work even if it's not used on carpet?" she asked.
"You should go," I told her. I looked down at the floor and pretended to be fascinated with the little blue dot pattern.
Delia came closer to me, seeing the freak I truly was. With one finger, she traced an X over her chest. "I won't tell."
One traitor tear slicked its way down my cheek; I scrubbed it away with a fist. "You should go,"I repeated, the last thing in the world that I wanted.
"Okay." Delia agreed. But she didn't leave. — Jodi Picoult

"Oh, but I love them so. There." Margo stepped back, then nodded in satisfaction. "I didn't have much to work with, but ... " "Keep it up, Miss D Cup," Kate grumbled, then looked down and goggled. "Jesus, where did they come from?" "Amazing, isn't it? In the right harness, those puppies just rise." "I have breasts." Stunned, Kate patted the swell rising above black satin and lace. "And cleavage." "It's all a matter of proper positioning and making the most of what we have. Even when it's next to nothing." "Shut up." Grinning, Kate slicked her hands down her torso. "Look, Ma. I'm a girl."
... Her friend was sitting in an elegant Queen Anne chair wearing a black bustier with matching lacy garter belt and sheer black stockings. "Why, Kate, you look so ... different." "I have tits," she stated and rose. "Margo gave them to me." — Nora Roberts

Now you take dark Negroes like you, Mr. Griffin, and me," he went on. "We're old Uncle Toms to our people, no matter how much education and morals we've got. No, you have to be almost a mulatto, have your hair conked and all slicked out and look like a Valentino. Then the Negro will look up to you. You've got class. Isn't that a pitiful hero-type?"
"And the white man knows that," Mr. Davis said.
"Yes," the cafe owner continued. "He utilizes this knowledge to flatter some of us, tell us we're above our people, not like most Negroes. We're so stupid we fall for it and work against own own. Why, if we'd work just half as hard to boost our race as we do to please whites whose attentions flatter us, we'd really get somewhere. — John Howard Griffin

Myron didn't step back. He didn't make a fist, but man, he wanted to. Despite the rushed call from his wife, Chick wore a shiny silk suit with a tie so perfectly knotted it looked fake. His shoes had an almost supernatural shine, like they were somehow more than new, and his hair was black with just the right amount of gray, slicked back and a little too long. His skin had the waxy glow of a recent facial or some sort of high-end cosmetics, and the word "manscaped" was encompassed in every move Chick made. Brooke — Harlan Coben

usually perfectly curled and braided, has been slicked back into a simple bun. When I see gray at her temples, — Victoria Aveyard

Hello, Halberstam," Owen says, walking by.
Hello, Owen," I say, admiring the way he's styled and slicked back his hair, with a part so even and sharp it ... devastates me and I make a mental note to ask him where he purchases his hair-care products, which kind of mousse he uses, my final guesses after mulling over the possibilities being Ten-X. — Bret Easton Ellis

We need to stay hydrated," Alec said, placing his weapon on the ground. He slipped off his backpack and pulled out one of his two canteens. After a long drink he handed it to Mark, who relished every drop as it slicked his parched mouth and throat. "Oh, man," he said when he finished, handing the canteen back to Alec. "That was the single best drink I've ever had in my life. That one right there." "Sayin' a lot," Alec muttered as he put the thing away and hunched into his backpack once again. "Considering all the times we've been thirsty in the last year. — James Dashner

Mummies unraveled
and put on new wraps.
Spiders found corners
and spun silky traps.
Count Dracula grinned
and slicked back his hair.
Frankenstein's bride cried,
"I've nothing to wear! — Natasha Wing

Of course, about a dozen steps from the Stall I was regretting my nobility, but I refused to go back and ask for the rain gear. I could be petty that way.
And hey, no objection to seeing Karish with his shirt soaked through. It was clingy while in the Stall, but a few drops of rain had it completely plastered to his shoulders, chest, back and stomach. His black hair was slicked close to his head. Rain streamed over his face and throat and clung to his eyelashes. He made a beautiful drowned rat.
Unfortunately, Karish's shirt wasn't the only garment to be quickly soaked through. I couldn't carry off the look with the same panache. — Moira J. Moore

His palm rests on the knob so I can't try to shut him out again. Rain droplets glisten along his sleek hair, which no doubt took gallons of glaze and hours to perfect. It's the one part of his appearance Taelor will actually approve of.
As for me, I favour the messy look - hair out of sorts, body slicked in sweat with motor oil or watercolours splashed across his olive skin.
That's the Jeb I grew up with. The one I could count on. The one I've lost. — A.G. Howard

Ruthan Gudd drew off his gambeson and paused to luxuriate in the sudden escape from unbearable heat as his sweat-slicked skin cooled.
'Well,' said Skanarow from her cot, 'that woke me up.'
'My godlike physique?'
'The smell, Ruthan. — Steven Erikson

I don't really have the patience to do my hair, which is why it's always parted down the middle, slicked, in a low ponytail or a messy high bun. I'm too lazy to do my own hair, but I like doing my makeup. — Gigi Hadid

The burn was immediate but welcomed. He rode his own fingers, getting lost in the friction, his eyes sliding closed. The bed shifted and Judge was gone but Michaels didn't stop, couldn't stop. Judge was back with the lube, hurrying out of his jeans and spreading the slick liquid on his fingers before he even got back on the bed. Someone else was just as restless as he was. Michaels pulled his t-shirt all the way off, spreading his legs wider in obvious invitation. "Fuck," Judge whispered; his eyes on Michaels' stretched hole. He rolled a condom down his long shaft and slicked himself up good. When — A.E. Via

I get more respect from rap artists than I do from my own industry. I don't always write the kind of music that country executives want. Rappers are like that too .. my words come from the street, and their words come from the street. That slicked-up pop stuff doesn't come from the street, it's all pre-fab ... — Toby Keith

I know I grew up in the time when a young man in a baggy suit and slicked-down hair stood spraddle-legged in the crossroads of history and talked hot and mean about the colored, giving my poor and desperate people a reason to feel superior to somebody, to anybody. I know that even as the words of George Wallace rang through my Alabama, the black family who lived down the dirt road from our house sent fresh-picked corn and other food to the poor white lady and her three sons, because they knew their daddy had run off, because hungry does not have a color. — Rick Bragg

Sudden distrust slicked down Arin's spine.
Roshar raised his hand to quiet the roaring crowd, and Arin was reminded of Cheat relishing his role as an auctioneer. A stone rose in his throat. Kestrel's hand tightened on his, but Arin no longer felt wholly there. — Marie Rutkoski

Hank Peters woke up in the early hours of the next morning from a dream of huge rats crawling out of an open grave, a grave which held the green and rotting body of Hubie Marsten, with a frayed length of manila hemp around his neck. Peters lay propped on his elbows, breathing heavily, naked torso slicked with sweat, and when his wife touched his arm he screamed aloud. EIGHT — Stephen King

Homeschooling? What was she thinking? All I could envision were those religious families, the ones with the little girls wearing Amish dresses and the boys with their slicked-back hair and matching polo shirts. I'd seen groups of them at the mall, following their mother single file, pretending it was a field trip. — Karen McQuestion

The possibility of injury or death was a strong attraction: as the online world became more and more pre-edited and slicked up, and as even its so-called reality sites raised questions about authenticity in the minds of the viewers, the rough, unpolished physical world was taking on a mystic allure. — Margaret Atwood

I've been applying makeup long enough to feel good doing it on my own, but I cannot do my hair to save my life. When left to my own devices, if I have to go to an event, I do a slicked bun. Otherwise, I just try to wear a hat, put it in a ponytail, or do a side braid - something easy. — Kourtney Kardashian

She takes hold of his hands. As they move together, Rolph feels his self-consciousness miraculously fade, as if he is growing up right there on the dance floor, becoming a boy who dances with girls like his sister. Charlie feels it, too. In fact, this particular memory is one she'll return to again and again, for the rest of her life, long after Rolph has shot himself in the head in their father's house at twenty eight: her brother as a boy, hair slicked flat, eyes sparking, shyly learning to dance. — Jennifer Egan

Who me? I play scales. The scales of
dead fish of oil-slicked seas. My sister
blows wind through the hollows of fallen
trees. And we are the echoes of eternity.
Maybe you've heard of us.
We do rebirths, revolts, and resurrections. — Saul Williams

She splashed to the surface, coming up from the water like a nymph intent on stealing his soul. Her hair was slicked back from her face, making her eyes look large and luminous. "You going to stand there all day with your mouth hanging open? — T.J. Kline

He'd abandoned his usual outfit of black rap clothes or GI Joe cammies. He was wearing a brown leather jacket, a cream-colored Henley, faded jeans, and work boots. His hair, which had always been slicked back in a ponytail, was cut short. He had a two-day beard, making his teeth seem whiter and his Latino complexion seem darker. — Janet Evanovich

Before the downpour, Al had thought Lou looked alluring in her pale pink T-shirt and simple flowered skirt. Her soft brown waves bounced around her shoulders with the humidity. She was simply beautiful. But with the addition of water, she evolved into a siren. Her thin cotton clothes clung to every curve. She slicked her hair away from her face, as if emerging from an enchanted lake. — Amy E. Reichert

He burst from the water. He was facing her now. The muscles bunched on his arms as he slicked his wet, shoulder-length hair back from his face. The mist swirled amber over the surface of the water, adorning his gleaming skin as if he were the tributary god of this ruined garden. Her pity evaporated, burned away by the sudden realization that she had it all wrong. He was ... She swallowed. Good Lord. He was magnificent. — Elizabeth Hoyt

We get a fat-slicked chocolate chip muffin, which we heat up in the rotating toaster machine. Standing next to it, the heat radiating off its coils, I imagine myself suffering eternal damnation for sins not yet clear. — Megan Abbott

My hair was slicked down with a part. But that was before I discovered the blow-dryer. Now I'm fabulous. — Barry Manilow

Then Freddie was transformed into a moth. His old empty body fell forward face first into the water with a splash. Slicked back hair tied in a ponytail floated on the surface of the pool like a dead rodent on the sea as Freddie fluttered up towards a nearby streetlamp. — Stephen Livingston

As the soap slid through sparse curls and into the cleft between her thighs, ribbons of unexpected sensation stirred from her most intimate flesh and unfurled across the expanse of her skin. Her mouth dropped open, but she caught the moan before it escaped.
Their gazes collided, the flames in his eyes darkened as his pupils dilated.
He knew. Though he could see nothing, he knew exactly where her fingers drifted, and precisely where the soap slicked over already moistened skin.
Despite her mortification, Farah also marveled. She'd been bathing for almost three decades and, while she'd found a tremor of pleasure whilst lingering here, it had never been so achingly insistent, so full of demand and promise.
That demand, those promises, were mirrored in the stare of Dorian Blackwell. — Kerrigan Byrne