Soft And Gentle Quotes & Sayings

There was something infinitely impressive about the man, tall, slender, gray-haired, blue-eyed, soft-spoken. He had the looks of the doctors one read about in women's novels. There was something so basically kind and gentle about him, yet something powerful as well. The aura of a highly trained racehorse always straining at the reins, aching to go faster, farther ... to do more ... to fight time ... to conquer odds beyond hope ... to steal back just one life ... one man ... one woman ... one child ... one more. And often he won. Often. But not always. And that irked him. More than that, it pained him. It was the cause for the lines beside his eyes, the sorrow one saw deep within him. It wasn't enough that he wrought miracles almost daily. He wanted more than that, better odds, he wanted to save them all, and there was no way he could. — Danielle Steel

There was a tiny silence, only the soft hum of the fluorescence. I thought of her in the cold ruined house, with night birds keening above her and rain gentle all around, dying of breathing — Tana French

Women are mysterious, he mused.
She laughed, In what way?
They're a study in contrast: soft and strong, fierce and gentle. They can do everything, of course, and yet one feels compelled to do everything for them. — Sylvain Reynard

Oh, gentle feelings, soft sounds, the goodness and the gradual stilling of a soul that has been moved; the melting happiness of the first tender, touching joys of love- where are you? — Ivan Turgenev

Compassion is by nature gentle, peaceful, and soft, but it is very powerful. It is those who easily lose their patience who are insecure and unstable. Thus, to me, the arousal of anger is a direct sign of weakness. — Dalai Lama XIV

All infants and children require and deserve comfort in order to develop properly. Soft cooing voices, gentle touch, smiles, cleanliness, and wholesome food all contribute to the growing body/mind. And when these basic conditions are absent in childhood, our need for comfort in adulthood can be so profound that it becomes pathological, driving us to seek mothering from anyone who will have us, to use others to fill our emptiness with sex or love, and to risk becoming addicted to a perceived source of comfort. — Alexandra Katehakis

It is a different sensation than watching the stars while lying in a field, something Bailey has done many times. There are no trees creeping into the edges, and the gentle swaying of the carriage makes him feel almost weightless. And it is incredibly quiet. As the carriage moves along in what seems to be a circular pattern, Bailey can hear nothing but a soft creak and the sound of Poppet breathing next to him. It is as though the entire circus has faded away into the darkness. He glances over at Poppet, who is looking at him instead of the sky. She gives him a grin and then turns away. Bailey wonders if he should ask if she sees anything in the stars. — Erin Morgenstern

A soft and gentle growth
Under a blue sky
Over a high mountain
Extended over a vast land
When the sun comes up
Start growing — Rixa White

It is past eight. The hills before me are bathed in a gentle light that falls like sleep on weary eyes. Everything is soft and undefined. This is the hour Kham is most appealing to my sentimental self. There is no aggression in the air, just a drowsy stillness. This is the time of the day when people are immersed in the mundane actions of preparing for the night: gathering the yaks, feeding the dogs, rounding their cattle so the goats and the dris face each other and are in the right position to be milked in the morning. A time when the decisions made are whether people should take their clothes off or lie in them. A time when night is already evident in the way people light candles. — Tsering Wangmo Dhompa

Still, small heavenly voices penetrate the heart with their gentle, convincing declarations ... Most often, hope, encouragement, and direction come from a soft, piercing voice. Small voices are heard only by those who are willing to listen. — Marvin J. Ashton

She's saying she used to hide her feet between his legs. Feet icy as cold stones, and that he warmed them, like bread baking in the oven. She says he nibbled her feet saying they were like golden loaves from the oven. And that she slept cuddled close to him, inside his skin, lost in nothingness as she felt her flesh part like a furrow turned by a plow first burning, then warm and gentle thrusting against her soft flesh, deeper, deeper until she cried out ... What shall I do now with my lips without his lips to cover them? What shall become of my poor lips? — Juan Rulfo

When we are securely rooted in personal intimacy with the source of life, it will be possible to remain flexible without being relativistic, convinced without being rigid, willing to confront without being offensive, gentle and forgiving without being soft, and true witnesses without being manipulative. — Henri J.M. Nouwen

By nature, your soul is soft, gentle, loving and kind. It is forgiving, peaceful, and humble. Confident and comforting in times of despair, your soul is strong, focused, and determined in the mission called life. — Debbie Ford

He's a gentle giant, harmless and soft, like a teddy bear.

Except deep down, I know he's not.

And when his eyes cut my way, and I see the darkness on the surface, I'm reminded that this man hangs out with monsters.

And one might even exist inside of him. — J.M. Darhower

It's the hard things that break; soft things don't break. It was an epiphany I had today and I just wonder why it took me so very, very long to see it! You can waste so many years of your life trying to become something hard in order not to break; but it's the soft things that can't break! The hard things are the ones that shatter into a million pieces! — C. JoyBell C.

You have a good heart and you think the good thing is to be guilty and kind but it's not always kind to be gentle and soft, there's a genuine violence softness and kindness visit on people. Sometimes self-interested is the most generous thing you can be. — Tony Kushner

I have won for you a fish, my fair one," he said, and kissed her on the cheek.
It was a sweet kiss, gentle and soft, and Mark smelled like he always did: like cold outside air and green growing things. — Cassandra Clare

When tenderness softened her heart, and the sublime feeling of universal love penetrated her, she found no voice that replied so well to hers as the gentle singing of the pines under the air of noon, and the soft murmurs of the breeze that scattered her hair and freshened her cheek, and the dashing of the waters that has no beginning or end. — Mary Wollstonecraft Shelley

Minds with fixed ideas are like granite: They can never be penetrated with soft words and gentle persuasions. — Mehmet Murat Ildan

May and June. Soft syllables, gentle names for the two best months in the garden year: cool, misty mornings gently burned away with a warming spring sun, followed by breezy afternoons and chilly nights. The discussion of philosophy is over; it's time for work to begin. — H. Peter Loewer

At first it was the complete antithesis of the kiss she'd shared with Matthew. That one had been crazy, emotional. Uncontrolled. This was a gentle mating of lips. Soft, sweet, and easy. He didn't press for her to grant him access, but she gave it, opening for him with a low moan. — Cari Quinn

No one has ever touched me like you do. You're like a whisper. Gentle, soft. Soothing. In my world, the people only shout and scream. But you ... you're my haven. "
... "God, you're good — Sherrilyn Kenyon

There are five signs of righteousness: a gentle disposition and a soft heart, shedding tears of regret, ascetism and not caring about the world, being unambitious, and having a conscience. — Shaqiq Al-Balkhi

I didn't want to come off arrogant or conceited, or basically how I've been acting the past year, year and a half ... although what's happened in the past has happened, I just want to ... be kind and loving and gentle and soft. — Justin Bieber

She lifted up her hand and from the ring that she wore there issued a great light that illuminated her alone and left all else dark. She stood before Frodo seeming now tall beyond measurement, and beautiful beyond enduring, terrible and worshipful. Then she let her hand fall, and the light faded, and suddenly she laughed again, and lo! she was shrunken: a slender elf-woman, clad in simple white whose gentle voice was soft and sad. — J.R.R. Tolkien

Then she leans forward, and before I have time to say or think another word, she's kissing me. And I'm kissing her, too.
It starts almost in slow motion. Her lips, soft on mine, light little kisses, tiptoeing. Then she opens her mouth slightly, kissing me with more force. I keep thinking about how perfectly our mouths fit together. Her lips are so gentle, her tongue drawing me in. I'm losing myself in her. — Liz Kessler

Snow. I wondered what it felt like. Aunt Bernette said it could be both soft and hard, cold and hot. It stung and burned when the wind pelted it through the air, and it was a gentle cold feather when it drifted down in lazy circles from the sky. I couldn't imagine it being so many things, and I wondered if she had taken license with her story as Father always claimed. I couldn't stop thinking of it.
Snow. — Mary E. Pearson

He lifted her hand to his mouth. The touch of his lips was soft on her scraped palm, the tiny licks of his tongue so light she could barely feel them. Wait. He was licking her?
"You can't lick me," she said sternly. "i don't know your name."
He looked up and a quick grin slashed across his face. "Luca," he said....
"Luca," she repeated. "Is that an America name?"
"No." He lifted her hand to his mouth again, and his tongue once more began a slow, gentle movement over the scrape. She was okay with it now, because she knew his name. — Linda Howard

Germany, in the summer, is the perfection of the beautiful, but nobody has understood, and realized, and enjoyed the utmost possibilities of this soft and peaceful beauty unless he has voyaged down the Neckar on a raft. The motion of a raft is the needful motion; it is gentle, and gliding, and smooth, and noiseless; it calms down all feverish activities, it soothes to sleep all nervous hurry and impatience; under its restful influence all the troubles and vexations and sorrows that harass the mind vanish away, and existence becomes a dream, a charm, a deep and tranquil ecstasy. How it contrasts with hot and perspiring pedestrianism, and dusty and deafening railroad rush, and tedious jolting behind tired horses over blinding white roads! — Mark Twain

There are various orders of beauty, causing men to make fools of themselves in various styles ... but there is one order of beauty which seems made to turn the heads not only of men, but of all intelligent mammals, even of women. It is a beauty like that of kittens, or very small downy ducks making gentle rippling noises with their soft bills, or babies just beginning to toddle and to engage in conscious mischief -a beauty with which you can never be angry, but that you feel ready to crush for inability to comprehend the state of mind into which it throws you. — George Eliot

When life begins we are tender and weak When life ends we are stiff and rigid All things, including the grass and trees, are soft and pliable in life and dry in brittle in death So the soft and supple are the companion of life While the stiff and unyielding are the companions of death An army that cannot yield will be defeated A tree that cannot bend will crack in the wind Thus by Nature's own decree the hard and strong are defeated while the soft and gentle are triumphant — Laozi

She opened her mouth to answer, but he was already kissing her. She had kissed him so many times - soft gentle kisses, hard and desperate ones, brief brushes of the lips that said good-bye, and kisses that seemed to go on for hours - and this was no different. The way the memory of someone who had once lived in a house might linger even after they were gone, like a sort of psychic
imprint,
her
body remembered
Jace.
Remembered the way he tasted, the slant of his mouth over hers, his scars under her fingers, the shape of his body under her hands. — Cassandra Clare

Wicked eyes are not a good prospect for seminary boys. They want a gentle, soft sort of wife, not a wife who looks as though she may sprout wings and carry off the young children of the village. ~Maria "Smythe — Gwenn Wright

Love is like a butterfly
As soft and gentle as a sigh
The multicolored moods of love are like its satin wings
Love makes your heart feel strange inside
It flutters like soft wings in flight
Love is like a butterfly, a rare and gentle thing — Dolly Parton

Nothing in the world is as soft and yielding as water. Yet for dissolving the hard and inflexible, nothing can surpass it. The soft overcomes the hard; the gentle overcomes the rigid. Everyone knows this is true, but few can put it into practice. Therefore the Master remains serene in the midst of sorrow. Evil cannot enter his heart. Because he has given up helping, he is people's greatest help. True words seem paradoxical. — Laozi

I have lived my life in the shelter of too many northern alliances. I have made alliance with the gentle cow, the health department, the local policeman. In the shelter of such alliances I have got out of bed in the morning with moderate assurance that I shall still be alive at bedtime. But south of the moon my allies vanish, and I have an emptiness in my stomach. I fear the cobras in the garden. I lack a treaty with the lioness. I dread the crocodiles of Lake Victoria, the tsetse fly in the Tanganyika bush, the little airplane with the funny engine, and the mosquito in the soft evening air. But most of all, I am afraid of the African street. — Robert Ardrey

The inner life has its soft and gentle beauty; an abstract formlessness as well as a subtle charm. I often consider myself as a figure in a foggy painting: faltering lines, insecure distances, and a merging of greys and blacks. An emotion or a mood - a mere wisp of color - is shaded off and made to spread until it becomes one with all that surrounds it. — Virginia Woolf

Into the middle of that cauldron of intense, violent emotion suddenly came something soft and gentle. A wisp of memory. Courage. Beauty. A woman. Not any woman, but his woman, his lifemate. All red hair and fire. She walked like an angel where men feared to tread, where even his own kind would fear to venture. — Christine Feehan

He leaned down, far enough that the dark ends of his hair brushed feather-light against her face, caught in her lashes, She had just enough time to take in a breath, to blink, to part her lips before he took them with his own.
Time froze. Her heart ceased to beat. Her eyes fluttered shut.
The cool slip of the small metal loop pressed into her skin as he kissed her.
Urgent.
Gentle.
So slow.
Sweet, soft demolition.
He tasted of cloves and coffee. And of something else. A farawat essence, familiar and yet somehow foreign, too. Something sere and arid.
A little like some.
A little like decay
Ash. — Kelly Creagh

Sleeping under the moon and stars in the arms of a naked lover, the two of you cradled by furs and soft leaves, lulled by the gentle murmur of the chestnut trees and the far-off rumble of a waterfall, is terribly romantic. Sleeping under a crude lean-to, squashed into a soggy mass between a large, wet husband and an equally large, equally wet nephew, listening to rain thrump on the branches overhead while fending off the advances of a immense and thoroughly saturated dog, is slightly less so. — Diana Gabaldon

Contentedly sat the old woman. Soon now, the sea would hold no terrors, and the blinds wouldn't have to be down, nor the windows shut; she would even be able to walk along the shore at midnight as of old; and they, whom she had deserted so long ago, would once more shrink from the irresistable energy aura of her new, young body.
The sound of the sea came to her, where she sat so quietly; calm sound at first, almost gentle in the soft sibilation of each wave thrust. Farther out, the voices of the water were louder, more raucous, blatantly confident, but the meaning of what they said was blurred by the distance, a dim, clamorous confusion that rustled discordantly out of the gathering night.
Night!
She shouldn't be aware of night falling, when the blinds were drawn.
("The Witch") — A.E. Van Vogt

A woman is gentle, soft, delicate, and a man's position is to protect her, help her up stairs, make sure she's in the car safely first. Take good care of your woman, and the sky's the limit! — Taraji P. Henson

He'd forgotten about the beautiful things in life. Soft things. Gentle things. Sights and sounds. Tastes and touches. She was all of them wrapped up in one sweet package. — Sarah Castille

Touch is a magical thing, Natti," he explained. "It can comfort." He raised one hand and stroked her cheek, soft and gentle. "It can entice." His thumb moved along her jaw and applied pressure as it traveled down her neck, causing her to shiver with delight. "And it can hurt. Whatever the intensions, it brings two people together. It makes a certain ... connection. — Kelsey Ketch

Oh there is blessing in this gentle breeze, A visitant that while it fans my cheek Doth seem half-conscious of the joy it brings From the green fields, and from yon azure sky. Whate'er its mission, the soft breeze can come To none more grateful than to me; escaped From the vast city, where I long had pined A discontented sojourner: now free, Free as a bird to settle where I will. — William Wordsworth

It does not matter how small the sins are provided that their cumulative effect is to edge the man away from the Light and out into the Nothing. Murder is no better than cards if cards can do the trick. Indeed the safest road to Hell is the gradual one
the gentle slope, soft underfoot, without sudden turnings, without milestones, without signposts. — C.S. Lewis

Once you have found yourself and accepted your aloneness, then the greatest blessing is to share the love that arises within you. Each new moment presents the richest opportunity to be loving. And you can share love in the simplest of ways. Be soft and gentle. Be caring and kind. Be loving in an ordinary way, without any sense of wanting anything back, Life offers you the most precious gift. The gift of allowing you to be present and share love. — Leonard Jacobson

Then again, he supposed the healing process, in contrast to trauma, was gentle and slow ... The soft closing of a door, rather than a slam.- John — J.R. Ward

Stella expected to see fire in Mr. Spencer's eyes, fire like the flames that had made tinder of his house. Instead his eyes were soft, gentle, and brown like the earth. "I have to show them they didn't destroy me," he said simply. — Sharon M. Draper

Warriorship is so tender, without skin, without tissue, naked and raw. It is soft and gentle. You have renounced putting on a new suit of armor. You have renounced growing a thick, hard skin. You are willing to expose naked flesh, bone and marrow to the world. — Chogyam Trungpa

It is a strange thing, looking at the sea. When it is calm, or with only gentle ripples, it gives an impression of being soft and kind. But often, on such a calm, the wind suddenly blows, thrusting the water back into angry waves. At such times, in a certain sense, one feels sorry for the sea. Never of itself offensive to others, it is all too often attacked by wind and rain, the rain falling densely upon it, shaming the beauty of its calm face with a million bouncing bubbles. Were the wind to stop blowing, the ocean, surely, would never afflict the land with any calamity, nor would any human beings suffer. — Tan Kok Seng

I don't know when I've experienced a more massive silence than the one that followed my reading of his cheery epistle. Young Bingo gulped once or twice and practically every known emotion came and went on his face. Jeeves coughed one soft, low, gentle cough like a sheep with a blade of grass stuck in its throat, and then stood gazing serenely at the landscape. — P.G. Wodehouse

Upon entering my vein, the drug would start a warm edge that would surge along until the brain consumed it in a gentle explosion.It began in the back of the neck and rose rapidly until I felt such pleasure that the world sympathizing took on a soft, lofty appeal. — Gus Van Sant

Maybe before a big storm rolls in, you'll use it to catch fireflies (see, I did remember something, city mouse. But they're still lightning bugs down here). And if you do, just remember, the storm doesn't last forever. It can scare you; it can shake you to your core. But it never lasts. The rain subsides, the thunder dies, and the winds calm to a soft whisper. And that moment after the storm clouds pass, when all is silent and still, you find peace. Quiet, gentle peace. That's what I wish for you. Even if you couldn't find it with me. — S.L. Jennings

He lifted me up and held me close against him, my head on his shoulder. At that moment I loved him. In the morning light he was as golden, as soft, as gentle as myself, and he would protect me. — Francoise Sagan

There's nobody for me to attack in this matter even with soft and gentle ridicule-and I shouldn't ever think of using a grown up weapon in this kind of a nursery. Above all, I couldn't venture to attack the clergymen whom you mention, for I have their habits and live in the same glass house which they are occupying. I am always reading immoral books on the sly, and then selfishly trying to prevent other people from having the same wicked good time. — Mark Twain

She's soft and she's gentle and sweet as can be, and if Sharmon needs squeezin', then leave it to me. — Charlie Walker

Their blissfully soft texture calmed me but alerted me at the same time. I couldn't explain the gentle spark of light that dripped off the edges. And of course, the aqua trim felt way too familiar. — Dianne Bright

This year, mend a quarrel. Seek out a forgotten friend. Dismiss suspicion and replace it with trust. Write a letter. Give a soft answer. Encourage youth. Manifest your loyalty in word and deed. Keep a promise. Forgo a grudge. Forgive an enemy. Apologize. Try to understand. Examine your demands on others. Think first of someone else. Be kind. Be gentle. Laugh a little more. Express your gratitude. Welcome a stranger. Gladden the heart of a child. Take pleasure in the beauty and wonder of the earth. Speak your love and then speak it again. — Howard W. Hunter

O sleep, O gentle sleep, Nature's soft nurse, how have I frightened thee, 1710. That thou no more will weigh my eyelids down, And steep my senses in forgetfulness? — William Shakespeare

He wandered over them again. He had called them into view, and it was not easy to replace the shroud that had so long concealed them. There were the faces of friends, and foes, and of many that had been almost strangers peering intrusively from the crowd; there were the faces of young and blooming girls that were now old women; there were faces that the grave had changed and closed upon, but which the mind, superior to its power, still dressed in their old freshness and beauty, calling back the lustre of the eyes, the brightness of the smile, the beaming of the soul through its mask of clay, and whispering of beauty beyond the tomb, changed but to be heightened, and taken from earth only to be set up as a light, to shed a soft and gentle glow upon the path to Heaven... — Charles Dickens

Someone takes me in his arms. "Hans?" I ask weakly. There is no reply. Only the sensation of long fingers running along the length of my neck, soft and gentle as spring rain. They rest against my collarbones. The caress is light, and somehow reminds me of the flute in my hand. Then I know no more. — S. Jae-Jones

But what I would like to say is that the spiritual life is a life in which you gradually learn to listen to a voice that says something else, that says, "You are the beloved and on you my favour rests." ... I want you to hear that voice. It is not a very loud voice because it is an intimate voice. It comes from a very deep place. It is soft and gentle. I want you to gradually hear that voice. We both have to hear that voice and to claim for ourselves that that voice speaks the truth, our truth. It tells us who we are. — Henri Nouwen

Compliments land as
soft and gentle on my ears
as a butterfly. — Richelle E. Goodrich

Light can be gentle, dangerous, dreamlike, bare, living, dead, misty, clear, hot, dark, violet, springlike, falling, straight, sensual, limited, poisonous, calm and soft. — Sven Nykvist

I told you. I don't do soft and gentle. — Collette West

In the soft and gentle arms of a mother's love,
children can come to know the voice of the Lord. — Dwan J. Young

His voice was like ice, cold and unforgiving, which was like hearing a different Draven altogether. Here he wasn't my Draven, soft and gentle. NO, here he was the Master, here he was the one in control ... here, he was a God! — Stephanie Hudson

When thoughts come up, touch them very lightly, like a feather touching a bubble. Let the whole thing be soft and gentle, but at the same time precise. — Pema Chodron

I liked him, there was no doubt about that. But I wasn't sure if he was good for me or not. I didn't always stick to things that were good for me - positively railed against it sometimes - but he was a different type of not good for me. He did things to my mind and body that I hadn't ever experienced before.
But it wasn't as if I could get him out of my head either: every moment I had free would suddenly be crammed with thoughts of him. His soft lips, the gentle urgency with which they'd kissed me. The intoxicating smell of his skin. His moss-green eyes that would follow everything I said, then would meet my eyes so we could share a smile. It was driving me slowly and pleasurably insane. — Dorothy Koomson

In our rough and rugged individualism, we think of gentleness as weakness, being soft and virtually spineless. Not so! Gentleness includes such enviable qualities as having strength under control, being calm and peaceful when surrounded by a heated atmosphere, emitting a soothing effect on those who may be angry or otherwise beside themselves, and possessing tact and gracious courtesy that causes others to retain their self-esteem and dignity. Instead of losing, the gentle gain. Instead of being ripped off and taken advantage of, they come out ahead! — Charles R. Swindoll

The truth on top of me right like a marshmallowy sackful of soft sweet simple things, the feeling was colourful and clear and gentle and full of certainly and it pummelled me gently inside and out, and I understood. I understood these battles I'd been having with my parents and why an adventure away from Oscar felt like such a terrible thing.
I didn't want to leave him. I didn't want to sit by a new window in a strange house in a foreign country and not be able to talk to him. Oscar was the reason. He was the reason I wanted to stay. — Sarah Moore Fitzgerald

It was bizarre. Not at all like the soft and gentle flapping of butterflies' wings people spoke of- no, no, no. More like pterodactyls swooping and clipping her heart with every pass. Actually, maybe bizarre was the wrong word. Terrifying was more like it. — Victoria Parker

And that was how I ended up with the Gentle Lord in my bed, his head resting in my lap. He looked even younger when he slept - and since his eyes were closed, he looked human. I stroked his hair lightly; it was soft and silky as the fur of our old cat Penelope, and I wondered if he ever purred. — Rosamund Hodge

True zeal is an ignis lambeus, a soft and gentle flame, that will not scorch one's hand. — Ralph Cudworth

(Devon) "Cam, what's wrong?"
He cursed and held her tighter. "Help me," he rasped.
Her senses dizzy from the scent and feel of him, it took a few moments for the words to register. She stroked her fingers through his thick, soft hair. "Help you?"
His head moved against her hand, as much a show of helpless pleasure as it was a nod. "Help me slow down."
She shook her head. "I don't want you to slow down - "
"I want to be gentle," he said roughly, his warm breath tickling her neck. "But I'm so fucking turned on right now all I can think about is pounding into you. — Kaylea Cross

Ode to Love
Lin Huiyin

I think you are the April of this world,
Sure, you are the April of this world.
Your laughter has lit up all the wind,
So gently mingling with the spring.

You are the clouds in early spring,
The dusk wind blows up and down.
And the stars blink now and then,
Fine rain drops down amid the flowers.

So gentle and graceful,
You are crowned with garlands.
So sublime and innocent,
You are a full moon over each evening.

The snow melts, with that light yellow,
You look like the first budding green.
You are the soft joy of white lotus
Rising up in your fancy dreamland.

You're the blooming flowers over the trees,
You're a swallow twittering between the beams;
Full of love, full of warm hope,
You are the spring of this world! — Lin Huiyin

Thank you, baby," he breathes, covering my upturned face in soft feather-light kisses. I open my eyes and gaze up at him, and he wraps his arms tighter around me.
"Your cheek is pink from the baize," he murmurs, rubbing my face tenderly. "How was that?" His eyes are wide and cautious.
"Teeth-clenchingly good," I mutter. "I like it rough, Christian, and I like it gentle, too. I like that it's with you."
He closes his eyes and hugs me even tighter. — E.L. James

Boys have their soft and gentle moods too. You would suppose by the morning racket that nothing could be more foreign to their nature than romance and vague sadness ... But boys have hours of great sinking and sadness, when kindness and fondness are peculiarly needful to them. — Henry Ward Beecher

Maybe love was different for everyone, sometimes soft and gentle, other times a slap in the face - a doe-eyed vixen that called you out on your shit and set every inch of you on fire. — Keira Blackwood

He had imagined Scotland as being a soft place, all gentle heathery hills, but here on the north coast everything seemed sharp and jutting, even the grey clouds that scudded across the pale blue sky. It was as if the bones of the world showed through. — Neil Gaiman

Love and peace are transmitted not through words but the soft light of the eyes and the curved lips of a gentle smile. — Ilchi Lee

If you're going to have guests," the ghost said with a sigh, "would it be so hard to give me a little advance warning?" Her eyes were dark with heavy lids. She had soft cheekbones and gentle features, framed neatly by twin locks of hair, which swept her cheeks on either side. The rest was tucked behind her ears and spilled down her back and shoulders in silvery waves, like a mercurial waterfall. She had a slim, spritely figure, and her movements were as smooth as smoke in a soft breeze. She placed the cup on the tray with a gentle clink, and drifted to a seat on the windowsill. Through her opaque figure, I could see the swaying branches of a weeping willow in the yard. "How — William Ritter

I wondered how those traits translated during sex. Was he secretly soft and gentle or rough and controlling? Hot damn. — Anonymous

I don't know what it's like to be a friend any more than you do. I think "hard" when it should be "soft," or "gentle" when "forceful" is the key. Often it's giving every last drop of blood, then skinning myself and giving the skin too, when all you really want is my skeleton, wagging a bony finger, signing how much I love you.
I've drained and skinned and boned. I've signed back obscenities and watched your bone dust drift away. No, I don't know the meaning of "friend." Teach me? — Chila Woychik

TO MUSIC, TO BECALM HIS FEVER"


CHARM me asleep and melt me so
With thy delicious numbers,
That, being ravished, hence I go
Away in easy slumbers.
Ease my sick head
And make my bed,
Thou power that canst sever
From me this ill ;
And quickly still,
Though thou not kill
My fever.

Thou sweetly canst convert the same
From a consuming fire
Into a gentle-licking flame,
And make it thus expire.
Then make me weep
My pains asleep ;
And give me such reposes
That I, poor I,
May think thereby
I live and die
'Mongst roses.

Fall on me like a silent dew,
Or like those maiden showers
Which, by the peep of day, do strew
A baptim o'er the flowers.
Melt, melt my pains
With thy soft strains ;
That, having ease me given,
With full delight
I leave this light,
And take my flight
For heaven. — Robert Herrick

Don't give me some stupid lecture about war when the person we're talking about losing is you!" I said, surprised by the savagery in my tone. At least my voice didn't shake.
His face blurred and I tasted salt on my lips. It was warm, warm like Pritkin's hands coming up and framing my face, his thumbs brushing over my eyelids, soft as his fingers in my hair. "One person is not so important in the scheme of things", he said, and his voice was gentle, gentle when it never was, and that almost broke me.
But you are important, I thought. And yet he couldn't see that. In Pritkin's mind, he was an experiment gone wrong, a child cast out, a man valued by his peers only for his ability to kill the things they feared. Just once, I wished he could see what I did.
"Then neither is this", I said, leaning in and pressing my mouth to his, the kiss lightened by desperation and weighted down by everything he meant to me. — Karen Chance

It's important to be gentle about my routines. I've learned that the hard way. When I'm really stressed out, I can take it out on my body and hurt myself. Sometimes I need to be as loving and soft with myself as possible. I've had to learn how to pay attention. It's a kind of mind-set. — Lisa Edelstein

Even a soft, gentle return into the world of sex can feel scary when you are a new mom. You worry sex will hurt; that you will not be able to get aroused. You worry you will not enjoy it the same way you did before the baby. Maybe you are concerned your partner's sexual needs will not be met. When you decide to try having sex again, give yourself permission to take your time and only do what feels pleasurable to you. — Sarah J. Swofford

He was soft and slow, gentle and attentive. Possessive. — Penelope Douglas

Sam was stiff and tired. He crept onto the houseboat, careful not to wake anyone, and sidled down the narrow passage to his bunk. The shades were drawn and of course there were no lights, so he felt his way to the edge of his bed and crawled across it on hands and knees to find his pillow.
He collapsed on his back.
But even at the edge of sleep he was aware of something different about the bed.
Then he felt soft breath on his cheek.
He turned and her lips were on his. Not gentle. Not soft. She kissed him hard, and it was like he'd been awakened by an electric power line.
She kissed him and slid on top of him.
Their bodies did the rest.
At some point in the hours that followed he said, "Astrid?"
"Don't you think you should have made sure of that about three times ago?" Astrid said in her familiar, slightly condescending tone.
They said many things to each other after that, but nothing that involved words. — Michael Grant

She listened to the soft splashing sound when the water met the bank. It took just a few moments before she was able to completely fade out the smell of pollution and inhaled the salty air. The soft breeze mingled with the swooshing and splashing of the waves, with the rustling of grass, the tictac as long undressed twigs of the tree met each other, composing a gentle melody like wooden wind-chimes. The whole concert of nature calmed her down like nothing had ever been able to. — Jessica Werner

Aloft, like a royal czar and king, the sun seemed giving this gentle air to this bold and rolling sea; even as bride to groom. And at the girdling line of the horizon, a soft and tremulous motion - most seen here at the Equator - denoted the fond, throbbing trust, the loving alarms, with which the poor bride gave her bosom away. — Herman Melville

His lips touched the back of her neck and moved along her stubborn shoulder. One hand stroked her breasts, and the other moved unerringly between her thighs; he found the most sensitive part of her and moved against her and in her until her half-formed protests turned into soft, stifled moans. The moon moved lower in the sky, tangling itself in her eyes until he closed them with surprisingly gentle kisses. Her body was the ocean and his was the wild wind
turning ripples into foam-capped breakers that soared and curved translucently before they crashed into oblivion against distant shores. — Rosemary Rogers

The sun, a red wheel, was sinking slowly in the west. Besides being spectacularly beautiful, the early-summer sunset was exceedingly soft and gentle: black mulberry leaves turned as red as roses; pristine white acacia petals shed an enshrouding pale-green aura. Mild evening breezes made both the mulberry leaves and the acacia petals dance and whirl, filling the woods with a soft rustle. — Mo Yan

Juliette-Julietter, love, wake up-wake up"
...
Warner's hands cup my face. The warmth of his skin helps calm me somehow, and I finally feel my heart rate begin to slow. "Look at me." he says.
I force myself to meet his eyes, shaking as I catch my breath.
"It's okay," he whispers, still holding my cheeks. "It was just a bad dream. Try closing your mouth," he says, "and breathing through your nose." He nods. "There you go. Easy. You're okay." His voice is so soft, so melodic, so inexplicably tender.
...
"I won't let you go until you are ready," he tells me. "Don't worry take your time. — Tahereh Mafi

I set my face toward the sun again, and I think about my old life - the one I feel as though I've abandoned somehow. It hurts to think of it that way. And even though I know it wasn't perfect, I look back now, and all I see is perfection. Every soft whisper, every spoken word, every gentle touch - it's all perfect. Time won't let me see it otherwise. They're all just perfect memories - perfect, untouchable moments that came and went so softly that they almost feel as if they were always just a dream. — Laura Miller

I think the first time I was ever really conscious of the difference between people's voices was that my mother's voice was so soft and gentle and her pronunciation was so perfect. — Marian Seldes

Because I was human, and I would grow old and - I didn't let myself get that far as he came closer still. Slowly, as if giving me time to pull away, he brushed his lips against my cheek. Soft and warm and heartbreakingly gentle. It was hardly more than a caress before he straightened. I hadn't moved from the moment his mouth had met my skin. — Sarah J. Maas

Then she leaned slightly into him and said gently, "I don't think you should be left be. I think you're dealing with something heavy, you're obviously doing it alone." She threw a mitten-covered hand out to indicate the area, "You need to unload it, Chace."
Christ.
Fuck.
Christ.
That voice, quiet, gentle, so fucking sweet saying his name, her eyes soft on him.
Fuck.
Better than he could have imagined.
Better than he ever could have dreamed.
And not his.
Never to be his.
Which meant finally hearing her say his name was torture. — Kristen Ashley