Slowly Letting Go Quotes & Sayings

Prophet pulled back a little, a wicked look in his eyes as he looked up at Tom. He licked slowly along the ladder of piercings, and then he paid special attention to each one, tugging the barbells between his teeth until Tom hissed or groaned and tightened his grip on Prophet's hair warningly. Each time, Prophet would comply, letting his dick go, and he'd wait patiently, and each time Tom brought his mouth back to his cock, he was rewarded with the tug and pull, lick-suck-twist motion. His pain-pleasure center intertwined to where Tom could barely pick out which was which. He knew he just wanted more. Prophet's — S.E. Jakes

I was slowly learning that love did not mean holding on, which I had always thought, but rather letting go. — Ken Wilber

Near my feet is a glowing archway. The light is white and shimmery, like iridescent glitter, and it's so tall the top nearly brushes the ceiling. Inside, instead of seeing the cement wall of the basement, I'm looking at evenly spaced wooden pillars and a reed-mat floor. Standing on that mat is a woman with curves that would make a Playboy model jealous. She's wearing a long, butter yellow dress, and her white hair hangs down to her waist. She looks like an angel when she smiles at me, holding out her hands.
"Hudson, come with me." Her voice reminds me of the breeze rustling through the trees near the lake. Soft and subtle and calming. "Let me help you."
Did I die? Maybe the scratch on my side got infected. Maybe I've been slowly bleeding to death from internal injuries for the past week. Who knows? If this is death, if she's what's waiting for me on the other side, then fuck it. I'm letting go. — Erica Cameron

Dad pressed against my mind. Please, Allison. Let me, just this once, hold my son.
I shouldn't. Nothing good ever came from letting my father have his way. But I could feel his love for this baby. And even if he couldn't love me, I knew that at this moment, before the baby could grow up and become a disappointment to him, he truly loved him.
I slowly stepped away from the front of my mind, letting him fill that space, letting him feel through my hands, see through my eyes.
"He's amazing," Dad said through me. "You're amazing." He looked up at Violet, and she smiled. — Devon Monk

I knew I used food to cope with emotions, but just knowing it wasn't enough to completely stop it. That's why I created the twenty-second rule: Before letting myself rip into a bag of junk food, I forced myself to sit down and county to twenty. Slowly. During those twenty seconds I made myself answer a very simple question: What was really bothering me? Almost every single time, I came up with the answer before the twenty seconds were up. The next question was: What can I do right this minute to help fix it? Do I need to call someone to sort out a misunderstanding? Do I need to get paperwork done? Do I need to run overdue errands? . . .By the time I came up with something that I could do right at that moment my urge to eat had subsided and I was tacking the underlying problem. — Monica Seles

I have calculated the total number of hours
we spend sleeping beside each other in a week
and I wanted to tell you it could be considered
a full-time job. We could be eligible for healthcare
benefits, could probably even pay for a mortgage
by now. I remind myself of this, in daylight, when
I miss you and cannot reach across the bed
for the comforting filling and refilling
of your chest. Such a strange affair
we are having on each other; these hours
that I have not lost but do not remember.
This cannot be the best of love: to drool
on someone's collarbone or inhale an elbow to
the jaw or be woken by the most ungraceful sounds
of the body. But what is it if not the softening
of grips? A letting go of. Your heart
finally slowly that stubborn, lonely march. — Sierra DeMulder

He was silent a moment; then he said, "I want a drink of water."
She almost laughed aloud, because it was such a mundane request that could have been made of anyone, but then she saw the tension in his jaw and lips and realized that, again, he was checking out his condition, and he wanted her with him. She turned to the small Styrofoam pitcher that was kept full of crushed ice, which she used to keep his lips moist. The ice had melted enough that she was able to pour the glass half full of water. She stuck a straw into it and held it to his lips.
Gingerly he sucked the liquid into his mouth and held it for a moment, as if letting it soak into his membranes. Then, slowly, he swallowed, and after a minute he relaxed. "Thank God," he muttered hoarsely. "My throat still feel swollen. I wasn't sure I could swallow, and I sure as hell didn't want that damned tube back."
Behind Jay, Frank turned a smothered laugh into a cough.
"Anything else?" she asked.
"Yes. Kiss me. — Linda Howard

How could I feel so miserable in the midst of such splendor? The question flashed through me all at once, not waiting for words to express it. The answer came more slowly: No one makes you angry. Anger, like love, is something you choose. Stunned, I sat down in the middle of the field I'd been walking through. I knew I needed to look within myself, let go of my anger and have a quiet talk with God. — Susan L. Taylor

Nearer:breath of my breath:take not they tingling
limbs from me:make my pain their crazy meal
letting they tigers of smooth sweetness steal
slowly in dumb blossoms of new mingling:
deeper:blood of my blood:with upwardcringing
swiftness plunge these leopards of white ream
this pith of darkness:carve an evilfringing
flower of madness on gritted lips
and on sprawled eyes squirming with light insane
chisel the killing flame that dizzily grips.
Querying greys between mouthed houses curl
thirstily. Dead stars stink. dawn. Inane,
the poetic carcass of a girl — E. E. Cummings

We have to keep letting go, and slowly and surely the great full life of God will invade us in every part, and men will take knowledge of us that we have been with Jesus. — Oswald Chambers

Remy shot to her feet, eyes blazing. Her hands were fisted at her sides. "Don't be stupid, Creed."

"What did you say?" I asked slowly.

"Don't. Be. Stupid."

I opened my mouth, closed it. "Why do you even care?" I finally asked.

Remy's eyes shifted away from mine. She was hiding something. "You're giving up."

"No." I shook my head. "Giving up would be giving in to the darkness completely. I haven't quite taken that step yet."

"What's stopping you?"

"What?"

"If you don't care and you want it to be over, what's stopping you from letting the evil inside of you destroy you?"

You.

"You need to leave," I told her.

"I can't."

A low rumble sounded deep in my chest.

"Are you growling at me?"

"Are you scared?"

"No."

"You should be," I stated, moving for her. — Lindy Zart

I discovered that the most interesting music of all was made by simply lining the loops in unison, and letting them slowly shift out of phase with other. — Steve Reich

Dancing? You, Poppy?" Marianne shook her head slowly. I never thought ... "
Rose looked concerned. She even felt Poppy's head for fever, but Poppy shook her off.
"I don't know about you, Rose, but I'm done letting creatures like Under Stone and the Corley dictate my life. I enjoy dancing, and I will blasted well dance at my wedding!"
"Poppy! Language!"
Poppy didn't answer; she just threw her arms around Christian and kissed him soundly. — Jessica Day George

Anthropology at that time was in transition, moving from the study of men dead and gone to the study of living people, and slowly letting go of the rigid belief that the natural and inevitable culmination of every society is the Western model. — Lily King

How often have I watched, and longed to imitate when I should be free to live as I chose, a rower who had shipped his oars and lay flat on his back in the bottom of the boat, letting it drift with the current, seeing nothing but the sky gliding slowly by above him, his face aglow with a foretaste of happiness and peace! — Marcel Proust

Everyone knows pain. We are not meant to carry it forever. We were never meant to hold it so closely, so be certain in the belief that what pain belongs to now will belong soon to then. That when someone asks you how was your day, realize that for some of us - it's the only way we know how to say, be calm. Loosen your grip, opening each palm, slowly now - let go. — Shane Koyczan

Tom ran his thumb over the head, circling lightly, unable to resist leaning down to suck the tip into his mouth. Prophet inhaled sharply, threaded his fingers into Tom's hair. He closed his eyes and groaned when Tom stroked in earnest, lifting his hips off the bed in a big cat-like stretch, letting Tom take control of him again. "Think I didn't get enough?" "Think you need sleep." Prophet's eyes opened as he studied Tom's face. "You're going to put me to sleep this way." "Gonna try," Tom told him, his hand pumping Prophet's cock slowly, then faster when the man refused to tear his gaze away. He couldn't read the man's expression, not until his mouth dropped and his eyes glazed. "Yeah, like that." Prophet's voice was hoarse, body tense. His casted hand reached out to hold on to Tom's biceps, the one with the dreamcatcher. Tom caught him staring at it when he came. — S.E. Jakes

Charls met the Prince of Vere once,' Guilliame said to Damen, lowering his voice to the conspiratorial, 'in a tavern in Nesson, disguised as a,' lowering it further, 'prostitute.'
Damen looked over at Laurent, who was deep in conversation, letting his eyes pass slowly over every familiar feature, the cool expression tipped with gold in the firelight. He said, 'Did he?'
'Charls said, think of the most expensive pet you've ever seen, then double it.'
'Really?' said Damen.
'Of course, Charls knew who he was right away, because he couldn't hide his princely style, and nobility of spirit.'
'Of course,' said Damen. — C.S. Pacat

Boxer altered his course subtly, as if that was the way he'd already been going, not looking up to acknowledge he had heard, letting his attitude convey the contempt he felt for the scrawny foreman. He stopped in front of the guy, staring at the man's dusty little workboots. Small feet, small dick. Slowly, he glanced up. Welcome to the world, Pee-Wee. Take a look at this. — Douglas Preston

Yoga is a metaphor for life. You have to take it really slowly. You can't rush. You can't skip to the next position. You find yourself in very humiliating situations, but you can't judge yourself. You just have to breathe, and let go. It is a workout for your mind, your body and your soul. — Madonna Ciccone

You're a wrestler, right, Jake?" Dad asked, passing Jake more saag. My parents were in an Indian food phase. The evening's entree consisted of limp spinach. God forbid we'd throw a few burgers on the grill and just have a barbecue when guests came over.
Jake gave the bright green, mushy contents a wary glance but accepted the bowl. "Yeah. I wrestle. I'm captain this year."
"How Greco-Roman of you," Lucius said dryly, lifting a glob of spinach and letting it drip, slowly, from his fork. "Grappling about on mats. — Beth Fantaskey

Through my films I'm eventually trying to one day tell the truth. I don't know if I'm ever going to get there, but I'm slowly letting pieces of myself out there and then maybe by the time I'm 85, I'll look back and say, 'All right, that about sums it up.' — Adam Sandler

She kept her eyes on him the whole time as he slowly lowered her with the rope. His heart pounded faster the closer she got to him. When she was still a few feet from the ground, she let go of the rope and reached for his shoulders. He caught her in his arms, and she buried her face in his neck. "I have you," he whispered, letting his lips brush her temple. "I have you." Her feet dangled above the ground, and she laughed. Her whole body shook in his arms. — Melanie Dickerson

Nik leant closer slowly letting his lips rest against her mouth. — Julie Fison

We're taught and trained to hold it all inside, to not feel the beauty of the innocence of letting it out when and how we feel it.
And we do; we do for the fear of avoiding the stigma of weakness, until it breaks us from the inside, slowly and silently, and there is "little" or "nothing" left of us.
Those who are courageous to hold on, learn to be strong and proficiently wave off the numerous darts as they come.
Do they, really?
It takes just one "planned" move, and all the impenetrable walls come crashing down. — Ufuoma Apoki

Then this is how you do it,' and kissed her slowly, letting time fade away. And he couldn't remember any other kiss that felt quite the same. — M.L. Stedman

Where are you? Have you arrived yet?" she asked eagerly.
"I have. I'm here and it's great. I love it."
"I knew you would!" cried Hannah. "So are you coming down? Help me pull a pint or two?"
"Yeah, sure. Give me half an hour or so, and I'll be there."
"Brilliant. See you soon."
"Bye," replied Layla, hanging up.
No time for eating then, she'd better unpack the car, sort out the bedraggled mess that she was, and get down to the pub. Start learning the ropes.
Hauling one of the bags upstairs, she went into her bedroom and plonked it on the bed. Before doing anything else, however, she couldn't resist peering out of the window again, having to imagine Gull Rock this time as the deepening night had hidden it completely. A year, she thought. That's all I've got, a year. Enough time to get over anyone, surely?
Taking in a deep breath then letting it slowly out, she bloody hoped so. — Shani Struthers

I give in, and I step into him, letting my forehead press deep into the center of his chest as I bring my limp arms around him, my fingers gripping the fabric of his shirt on the back. His chin slowly falls to the top of my head and his own arms circle me tentatively at first, until finally they lock around me, his palms sliding in slow tender circles along my skin. I'm overcome with his strength and the feel of his embrace, and I do something that I regret the moment it starts.
I cry. — Ginger Scott

It can be difficult to leave a long-term relationship, even when our inner-wisdom tells us it's time to let go. At this point, we can choose let go and endure the intense pain of leaving behind the familiar to make way for a new chapter in our life. Or we can stay and suffer a low-grade pain that slowly eats away at our heart and soul, like an emotional cancer. Until we wake up, one day and realize, we are buried so deep in the dysfunction of the relationship that we scarcely remember who we were and what we wanted and needed to be. — Jaeda DeWalt

If you're on a plane and the person in front of you starts slowly tilting to one side, it means he's letting out a fart. Take cover! — Jessica Zafra

He didn't say a word and she didn't ask anything else, just ran her fingers through his hair until his breathing began to calm. Without letting go of her or even pulling away to face her he finally whispered against her ear, "Please don't leave me. I promise I'll try harder." Slowly he pulled away and their eyes met. "I'm nothing without you, Izzy. — Elizabeth Reyes

He could hear her ramping up and rather than letting it happen, he silenced her the best way he knew hos.
He lowered his head to hers, slowly, so she could see him coming. Her lips parted, in anticipation, in fear, out of breathlessness or a need to speak, he didn't care. He pressed his against them and heard her quick intake of breath.
Her hands went up to his neck and she pulled herself closer, her mouth softening against his, opening, until they were necking like the pair of teenagers they had been, urgently, desperately, the rest of the world falling away until it was only them, no one else mattering, nothing necessary to their survival but that they hold on, hold on, hold on to each other and never let go. — Roxanne Snopek

Instead of letting her go, he lifted her hand to his lips, his eyelids closing, and slowly kissed the backs of her fingers. She held her breath at the rush of pleasure his lips created as they brushed softly over her skin. A tiny sigh escaped her. I shouldn't let him do this. — Melanie Dickerson

I hadn't even spoken to him, other than to breathe his name, and I was suddenly wrapped around him in a rainstorm, in the middle of the road. Slowly, I felt his strong arms come up around me, holding me, enfolding me. I was enveloped in warmth. The pleasure of the embrace was so intense I shuddered with it. I felt his hand in my hair, and he made those soft shushing noises. I realized I was crying. We stood in the rain, and he held me up, letting me hold him in return. No comments, no questions, just comfort. — Amy Harmon

Eventually I took a square of white chocolate out of the box, and unwrapped it, and then I did something I had never done before. I put the chocolate in my mouth, letting it soften until the last possible moment, and then as I chewed it slowly, I prayed that Mr. Pirzada's family was safe and sound. I had never prayed for anything before, had never been taught or told to, but I decided, given the circumstances, that it was something I should do. That night when I went to the bathroom I only pretended to brush my teeth, for I feared that I would somehow rinse the prayer out as well. I wet the brush and rearranged the tube of paste to prevent my parents from asking any questions, and fell asleep with sugar on my tongue. — Jhumpa Lahiri

I leaned forward, but Todd lifted a hand to stop me. "There's one more thing I've been meaning to tell you all day."
"What is it?" I asked impatiently, not able to keep from staring at his mouth.
He took his time, drawing in a slow inhale and then letting it out just as slowly. "You," he finally whispered, running a finger across my chin, "absolutely take my breath away."
It was right then that I knew, down to my curling toes and thumping heart, that I had made the correct decision, maybe the most correct decision ever to be made in the history of decision-making. I reached for him, torn between wanting to stare into his incredible green eyes and an almost painful desire to kiss him.
Naturally, we kissed. And kissed. — Ophelia London

If I had I could have helped him. He'd still be here, and I wouldn't have this heartache. My joy wouldn't be dissolving slowly, casting out all the light and bringing in darkness. I wouldn't be growing weak, letting everything gnaw at me until I can't take it anymore. I'd still be me.

-The Last Night — Heather Kirchhoff

Unfortunately for Hegel, both common sense and genius are more readily accessible than a continuous chain of reasoning that is directed at establishing the identity of one's world-knowledge with one's self-knowledge, slowly and painfully, without ever letting one slip back into the comfortable conviction of Stoic and Sceptic alike that what happens, or has happened, in one's world does not really matter to one. — H.S. Harris

Of all modes of transport, the train is perhaps the best aid to thought. The views have none of the potential monotony of those on a ship or a plane, moving quickly enough for us not to get exasperated but slowly enough to allow us to identify objects. They offer us brief, inspiring glimpses into private domains, letting us see a woman at the precise moment when she takes a cup from a shelf in her kitchen, then carrying us on to a patio where a man is sleeping and then to a park where a child is catching a ball thrown by a figure we cannot see. — Alain De Botton

Things did get better after that, though never like they were before the small blue baby boy was put into the earth. Catherine's mother wasn't a girl anymore, singing at any chance like she used to. She was old with a young face, walking slowly and watching the trees when she could stop and lean on her broom. Catherine thought that her brother was always with her ma, never quite letting her go, and it made her ma tired to carry him, too. — Rachel Devenish Ford

And then, leaning slowly towards him, she did something she realised she'd been wanting to do for such a long time. She kissed him.
For a second he hesitated, before letting himself fall with her, and, pulling her close, he wrapped his arms around her, pressing her to him. Breathing her in. His lips against hers. Tongue against tongue. Eyes closed. Hearts thudding. Deep, long, hungry kisses born out of the lack of any feelings of self-consciousness or embarrassment. Just two people wanting each other. Holding each other. Kissing the life out of each other.
It had been a long time coming. — Alexandra Potter