Spits Quotes & Sayings

He dumped me again!' She narrows her eyes on Tom accusingly. I drop my bag by my desk and watch as Victoria fires all sorts of accusations at a very guilty looking Tom. 'Don't ask me to come out with you ever again,' she spits, pointing her pen at him. 'Friday, you cleared off with the scientist, and last night you didn't even have the decency to go home with the same man!'

'Tom!' I gasp sarcastically. 'I thought the scientist was your soul mate?'

'He still might be,' Tom defends himself in a high pitched voice. 'I'm just sampling what's on offer before I decide on what to invest in. — Jodi Ellen Malpas

Stupid bitch," he spits, and that's when I mentally punch him in the face.
Except it isn't just mentally - it's for real, my closed fist is actually moving. It hits him square in the nose with a sickening crunch.
"Oh my God," Laney breathes from behind me.
"Oh my God," Jake says from the floor.
My eyes widen. "Oh my God. — Hannah Harrington

I look over at Andie. "Please don't tell me she's going to touch chicken poop."
Andie's face is totally impassive. "Nope."
"Phew. That's a relief." ...
"She is going to touch their eggs, though."
... "Then she is going to touch their poop."
She laughs, sounding confused. "How so?" She takes a sip of her drink as she waits to be educated by me.
I cringe. "Ew, Andie. Because the eggs come from their butts, of course."
Andie laughs so hard she spits coffee out at me ... "You've got to be kidding me." She wipes tears away. "Oh, man, Candice, I sure have missed you."
I frown at her obvious ignorance of all things chicken. "I missed you too. But why are you laughing over simple scientific facts? Google is your friend, you know, Andie. You really shouldn't neglect your Googling. — Elle Casey

I see how you look at me," spits the hateful man. He thinks we look upon him with the evil eye when we are not looking at him that way at all. We are just looking at him. It's because he can't accept the hate inside of himself that he projects it onto us. — Kate McGahan

At first it's bliss. It's drunken, heady, intoxicating. It swallows the people we were - not particuarly wonderful people, but people who did our best, more or less - and spits out the monsters we are becoming.
Our friends despise us. We are an epic. Everything is grand, crashing, brilliant, blinding. It's the Golden Age of Hollywood, and we are a legend in our own minds, and no one outside can fail to see that we are headed for hell, and we won't listen, we say they don't understand, we pour more wine, go to the parties, we sparkle, fly all over the country, we're on an adventure, unstoppable, we've found each other and we race through our days like Mr. Toad in his yellow motorcar, with no idea where the brakes are and to hell with it anyway, we are on fire, drunk with something we call love. — Marya Hornbacher

And what exactly do you think this proves?" he spits. "You've got power, but you don't know what to do with it."
VIOLA
"Looks like I'm doing fine," I say. — Patrick Ness

The music industry is a vicious business. It chews women up and spits them out. — Tori Amos

That which a man spits against heaven, shall fall back on his own face. — Thomas Adams

Don't challenge the world before becoming a big fire; otherwise they will extinguish you even with little spits! — Mehmet Murat Ildan

But twice-two-makes-four is for all that a most insupportable thing. Twice-two-makes-four is, in my humble opinion, nothing but a piece of impudence. Twice-two-makes-four is a farcical, dressed-up fellow who stands across your path with arms akimbo and spits at you. — Fyodor Dostoyevsky

But as the prey evolves (and we are prey to the Mad who are pursuing us, desperate to impart their own brand of truth to the hapless commuter) so does the hunter, and the true professionals begin to tire of that old catchphrase "What you looking at?" begin to tire of that old catchphrase "What you looking at?" and move into more exotic territory. Take Mad Mary. Oh, the principle's still the same, it's still all about eye contact and the danger of making it, but now she's making eye contact from a hundred, two hundred, even three hundred yards away, and if she catches you doing the same she roars down the street, dreads and feathers and cape afloat, Hoodoo stick in hand, until she gets to where you are, spits on you, and begins. — Zadie Smith

Smellin' the beefaloes and leanpigs turnin' on their spits, holding a cold cheer-beer in my hand, watchin' the stars poppin' out one by one like random pixels on God's antique
monochrome display, listenin' to the joyful chatter of my fellow gips, contemplatin' the easy job ahead of me, I was as near to heaven asI have ever been on this mostly sad ol' earth. — Paul Di Filippo

And then Grom says: "I'm already mated to Paca."
The realization slaps us each in a different way.
Me, with elation
Galen, with ... I'm not sure. He hasn't moved
Mom, with horror.
Toraf, with open-mouth shock that makes him look a bit silly.
Rayna, with "You idiot," she spits. "We told you-"
Grom points at her in the universal watch-yo-self sign. — Anna Banks

At seventy-one you can't expect to hear a story, any story, and take it as it is. At my age a story stirs up a vortex that sucks into its eye more stories, and spits out still more. I must remember what I must. — Miroslav Penkov

My sister Suga Tee is doing conscious rap. She speaks to the youth. She has an album coming out soon. She got saved but she is still doing her thing. She still spits good game. She's talented. She sings. I don't know if a lot of people know this but Suga Tee has a beautiful voice. So ya'll look out for her album you dig? And look forward to a future Clique album. — E-40

Men embrace you when you are talented,
men overlook you when you're not,
men scorn you when you are a genius,
the world spits out those it understands not. — Matshona Dhliwayo

If we could only live on good food like that, he said to her somewhat loudly, we wouldn't have the country full of rotten teeth and rotten guts. Living in a bogswamp, eating cheap food and the streets paved with dust, horsedung and consumptives' spits. — James Joyce

You really have so little choice - so little to decide. You get put through the machine and it chops you up and spits you out. Your life, it's all mechanical, of the machine, until you have free will. You can't be accepted into the Work until you have matured
freed yourself and take responsibility for your life, become accountable for your every action. It's not just from coming to a school. It's an active process - you have to take the responsibility for yourself. When you're trapped in the machine, it doesn't matter what you do. — E. J. Gold

Everywhere the devil spits, poison ivy grows. — Alan Chadwick

Who hath bitter in his mouth, spits not all sweet. — George Herbert

From there, it was time for dinner: roaring fires, meat popping on spits, tofu sizzling on skillets ((it's northern California, a vegetarian option is not optional), and a style of eating and drinking that can only be described as quaffing. — Cory Doctorow

The cops drive by to do some more good deeds
A young black male spits a sunflower seed
in the air. — Dred Scott

Evil-doers who denounce the wise resemble a person who spits against the sky; the spittle will never reach the sky, but comes down on himself. Evil-doers again resemble a man who stirs the dust against the wind; the dust is never raised without doing him injury. Thus, the wise will never be hurt, but the curse is sure to destroy the evil-doers themselves. — Gautama Buddha

What is a modern poet's fate? / To write his thoughts upon a slate; / The critic spits on what is done, / Gives it a wipe - and all is gone. — Thomas Hood

By November, you wish you were dead. You want nothing more. Every day, every fucking day, you run up the steps of the house, breathing hard, swing open the cupboards, thinking: You pitiful little bitch. Fucking cow. Greedy pig. All day, your stomach pinches and spits up its bile. You sway when you walk. You begin to get cold again. — Marya Hornbacher

He was a windblown blossom of some two hundred pounds with freckled teeth and the mellow voice of a circus barker. He was tough, fast and he ate red meat. Nobody could push him around. He was the kind of cop who spits on his blackjack every night instead of saying his prayers. But he had humorous eyes. — Raymond Chandler

Have you met Cather?" Levi said to Reagan, his face still shining with amusement. "She spits hot fire. — Rainbow Rowell

The borderline Queen experiences what therapists call "oral greediness". The desperate hunger of the borderline Queen is akin to the behavior of an infant who had gone too long between feelings. Starved, frustrated, and beyond the ability to calm of soothe herself, she grabs, flails, and wails until at last the nipple is planted securely and perhaps too deeply in her mouth. She coughs, gags, chokes, and spits, eyeing the elusive breast like a wolf guarding her food. Similarity, the Queen holds on to what is hers, taking more than she could use, in case it might be taken away prematurely. — Christine Ann Lawson

If someone in the crowd spits at you, you have just got to swallow it. — Gary Lineker

Everything an artist spits is art. — Kurt Schwitters

What the hell do you want from me?"
"What are you trying to do to me?"
"Stop! Just stop!" he spits.
"Why? What else needs to be said? I think you've told me enough lies for a lifetime."
"No more lies," he says angrily. "I don't even want to talk to you anymore. I just want to hear you tell me that you don't feel anything for me. That you want me to leave you alone and never come back. Then I'll go. If that's what you really want, I'll go."
"Don't. Please don't say it."
"Why?"
"Because I don't want you to. I need you to come back to me. Not to help me. Or to help my father. I'm done with that. I don't want your help. It all boils down to you. I just want you."
"I just want you."
"Okay. — M. Leighton

Mmm, butt bagels." Elody reaches into the bag and pulls out a bagel, half squashed, then makes a big deal of taking an enormous bite out of it. "Taste like Victoria's Secret."
"Taste like thong floss," I say.
"Taste like crack," Lindsay says.
"Taste like fart," Elody says, and Lindsay spits coffee on the dashboard, and I start laughing and can't stop, and all the way to school we're thinking of flavors for butt bagels, and I'm thinking that this
my life, my friends
might be weird or screwy or imperfect or damaged or whatever, but it's never seemed better to me. — Lauren Oliver

But reality, as they say, bites. Chomps, even. Chews, mashes and swallows. And then spits out the bones at the end. The — Cecily Anne Paterson

I don't know if he throws a spitball but he sure spits on the ball. — Casey Stengel

Saying I was lucky negates the hard work I put in and spits on that guy who's freezing his ass off back in Brooklyn. — Peter Dinklage

[London is] like the sight of a heavy sea from a rowing boat in the middle of the Atlantic ... One lives in it, afloat but half submerged in a heavy flood of brick, stone, asphalt, slate, steel, glass, concrete, and tarmac, seeing nothing fixable beyond a few score white spires that splash up like spits of foam above the next glum wave of dirty buildings. — V.S. Pritchett

The terror is strong because we don't act like the riot." Pigpen spits likes he's a viper showing his fangs full of venom. "My old man--he's Riot. — Katie McGarry

He who has not been at a tavern knows not what a paradise it is. O holy tavern! O miraculous tavern!
holy, because no carking cares are there, nor weariness, nor pain; and miraculous, because of the spits, which themselves turn round and round! — Pietro Aretino

So there that poor little stick is, caught up in a swirlin' eddy, spinnin' and spinnin' until it's sure it's gonna be stuck in that one spot forever. But then a most amazing thing happens. For no reason that anyone can really be sure of, the water spits that little stick right out of that stuck place and off it goes, floatin' on down the river to find new adventures. — Sandra Kring

You're cute, but..."
He steps away from me, and I can breathe again. "Cute?" he spits. "For centuries women have wanted me, desired me. Royals requested me by name, and you think I am cute? — Jennifer Harlow

Some hours later Cooper took the packet of ash from his pocket, where earlier in the evening he had put it for greater security, and threw it angrily at a man who had given him great offence. It bounced, burst, off the wall on to the floor, where at once it became the object of much dribbling, passing, trapping, shooting, punching, heading and even some recognition from the gentleman's code. By closing time the body, mind and soul of Murphy were freely distributed over the floor of the saloon; and before another dayspring greyened the earth had been swept away with the sand, the beer, the butts, the glass, the matches, the spits, the vomit. — Samuel Beckett

Now the colonel seemed to grieve for his President again, because he said, This world spits out a beautiful man like he was poison. — Denis Johnson

Now, what's the difference between an invisible, incorporeal, floating dragon who spits heatless fire and no dragon at all? If there's no way to disprove my contention, no conceivable experiment that would count against it, what does it mean to say that my dragon exists? Your inability to invalidate my hypothesis is not at all the same thing as proving it true. Claims that cannot be tested, assertions immune to disproof are veridically worthless, whatever value they may have in inspiring us or in exciting our sense of wonder. What I'm asking you to do comes down to believing, in the absence of evidence, on my say-so. — Carl Sagan

Women encourage killers. They do it by falling in love with warriors and heroes. Men know it and respond with enthusiasm. The Crusaders marched off to war with ladies favors in their helmets. The heroes sliced up adults and baked infants on spits, all the while thinking of how the damsels back home would admire their bravery. — Howard Bloom

This is your sword. You press the pointy end into the enemy. Try not to let him make eye contact with you and remember, he spits invisible poison. (Thorn) — Sherrilyn Kenyon

Yeah, ignore me." Aaro pawed through the bags until he found one with stenciled hearts on it. "By the way, you never did tell me your size. Hope nothing binds or pinches your tender pink places, babe."
He let the bag fly. It landed on Lily's lap. She shrank back as if it were a venomous snake. Fuck-me-please panties spilled out. A tangle of satin, lace and silk. Red, black, peach, flesh-tone.
Bruno growled expletives in a Calabrese dialect as he shoved underwear into the bag. It was his standard tension reliever. None of the people he insulted knew he was commenting on their grandmother's predilection for sex with sheep.
"I am not wearing that slutty, disgusting stuff." Lily's voice was haughty. "Certainly not after you're pawed it. Dog."
"Arf, arf." Aaro's tone was more cheerful than it had been so far any time this morning. "I love it when she spits bile. — Shannon McKenna

... I agree with two things: the steppe is wide - even though I've never been there, and the mountains, fuck, yes, the mountains are a thing for themselves. They eat you up, swallow you whole, digest and churn around until their loneliness spits you back out again and you think that nothing else matters. Just them, and that tiny handful of life that's your own. Fucking insignificant. Nothing, no one, barely remembered, except perhaps for a moment of recognition in a goddamned teahouse." He shut up, suddenly, had said too much.
Vadim flashed a smile. "You're my favourite enemy, too. Fucking messy Brit. — Aleksandr Voinov

But beef is rare within these oxless isles; Goat's flesh there is, no doubt, and kid, and mutton; And, when a holiday upon them smiles, A joint upon their barbarous spits they put on. — Lord Byron

Progress is something with no pity, and no purpose. It just happens. It chews up all you ever knew, and spits out things you can't understand, and the only value it seems to have is to make a few people a lot of money. — Spider Robinson

History chews up sexually uncertain boys, and spits us out as recycled, generic greeting cards for lonely old men. — Andrew Smith

He takes a deep breath, and opens the door. In my other life I used to know people like that
they're frightened by the sound of wind through the leaves, they can't bear cockroaches, not to mention policemen, lawyers, even dentists. And yet when the dragon bursts into the clearing, opens its mouth and spits fire, they stand up to them. Calm, cool as an angel. — Jose Eduardo Agualusa

I like looking at his face when he speaks. Sometimes he spit, actually he spits all the time, but I think that's passionate. He loves words and he rolls them around in his mouth like a luscious plum, slobbering on the sides, and then he'll use his hands, touching his mouth as if he's taking the words out throwing them to us. — Melina Marchetta

I took Eugene Sue's Arthur from the reading-room. It's indescribable, enough to make you vomit. You have to read this to realize the pitifulness of money, success, and the public. Literature has become consumptive. It spits and slobbers, covers its blisters with salve and sticking-plaster, and has grown bald from too much hair-slicking. It would take Christ of art to cure this leper. — Gustave Flaubert

The unconscious does not coo sweet lyrics or unroll immaculate and measured prose, it howls and raves like the shackled and tortured beast that our civilization has made of it, and when the fetters are momentarily loosened the unconscious does not thank the ego for this meagre relief, but hisses, spits, and bites, as any wild thing would. — Nick Land

Let go of me," I choke out, clawing blindly at Teren. The sharp tang of blood suddenly fills my nostrils, and I realize that it is from his wrists, spreading a film of scarlet around us. Somewhere ahead, the silhouette of our ship looms. We are getting closer.
"I wish I could," Teren spits, dripping venom. "There's nothing I'd like to see more than you in the Underworld, Adelina."
His words spark my fury. He never intended to finish this journey with you. Teren grips my arm again so hard that I scream in pain. He is pulling us both toward the ship, his face set in grim determination.
Then I hear him shout, "But I won't."
But I won't. My fury wavers, turning into bewilderment. — Marie Lu

Who spits against heaven, it falls in his face. — George Herbert

I would never even consider leaving you. No matter who else abandons me...or looks down on me...or spits in my face...I will stay with you to the end. — Hotaru Odagiri

He smiled affably at the burglar, a burly fellow whom he continued to hold with one hand, as easily as if he had been a child. The entire household had been aroused, and a good number of them had joined in, shouting questions and brandishing various deadly instruments. The burglar glared wildly at Emerson, bare to the waist and bulging with muscle - at Gargery and his cudgel - at Selim, fingering a knife even longer than Nefret's - at assorted footmen armed with pokers, spits, and cleavers - and at the giant form of Daoud advancing purposefully toward him. 'It's a bleedin' army!' he gurgled. 'The lyin' barstard said you was some kind of professor! — Elizabeth Peters

Another tip to weld society together. Give the person up to bat at the ATM plenty of space so they're not nervous about you peeking at their PIN number or slipping a blade between their ribs the second the money spits out. — Tim Dorsey

He considers it for a moment and spits out the seeds, which sprout, quickly, into tiny junkblossoms sizzling with recursive algorithms. The algorithms wriggle through thorny vines, veins of clotted pink juice. — Catherynne M Valente

Sleep takes her down fast, and very deep, whirls her through places too fragmentary to call dreams, then spits her abruptly back to the surface. — William Gibson

He looks like anybody you see on the street. But when he grins, birds fall dead off telephone lines ... the grass yellows up and dies where he spits. He's always outside. He came out of time ... He has the name of a thousand demons. Jesus knocked him into a herd of pigs once. His name is Legion. He's afraid of us ... He knows magic. He can call the wolves and live in the crows ... He's the king of nowhere. — Stephen King

This is how diseases are usually spread. Someone spits on a guy, somebody has sex with a chimp. Next thing you know ... AIDS. — CM Punk

Beauty is fleeting. I know someone important said that, but I have no idea who it was. I jut know it's true. So I'm gonna grab this second chance with everything I've got and I'm gonna ride this wave until it spits me back out on the beach of bullshit. — J.A. Huss

Even money, which shines so much, spits sometimes. — Federico Garcia Lorca

He who spits paan at the ceiling only blinds himself. — Rohinton Mistry

What's hard is not having that hope. I can't imagine going through bad times without that peace. Without that surrender, life just eats you up. Spits you out. Wears you down to nothing. — Jenny B. Jones

God is not needed to create guilt or to punish. Our fellow men suffice, aided by ourselves. You were speaking of the Last Judgement. Allow me to laugh respectfully. I shall wait for it resolutely, for I have known what is worse, the judgement of men. For them, no extenuating circumstances; even the good intention is ascribed to crime. Have you at least heard of the spitting cell, which a nation recently thought up to prove itself the greatest on earth? A walled-up box in which the prisoner can stand without moving. The solid door that locks him in the cement shell stops at chin level. Hence only his face is visible, and every passing jailer spits copiously on it. The prisoner, wedged into his cell, cannot wipe his face, though he is allowed, it is true. to close his eyes. Well, that, mon cher, is a human invention. They didn't need God for that little masterpiece. — Albert Camus

Home is where I take up such a tiny portion of the memory foam; home is a splintered word. His pillow is a sweat-stained map of an escape plot, also a map of love's dear abandon. (When did he give way, at which breath?) Forgiveness may mean retrospectively abandoning the pillow and abandoning the photograph of someone with curious eyes, kissing my toes, poolside. I paint my toes Big Apple Red. I don't know what to do about the shock of red nails on clean, white tiles except get used to it. (And when he gave way, was there room for feelings or the words for feeling?) While I brush my teeth, I can see him in my periphery at the other sink. The outline of him lulls and stings. (And when he gave way, was it the end of the beginning of suffering?) I draw his profile near, I make him brush his teeth with me, he spits and makes a mess. I could love another face, but why? — Karen Green

Zik spits into the dirt in from of home plate, his own little ritual. He digs in and grits his teeth, snarling at the Heat. Psychology. Baseball's all about psychology. — Barry Lyga

Your powers of deductive reasoning are stunning," spits Tobias. "Consider me awed. — Veronica Roth

Even in their reading, More charged, too many women were prone to superficiality. In search of a passing knowledge of books and authors, many read anthologies of excerpted works, that selected the brightest passages but left out deeper contexts - eighteenth-century Reader's Digest were quite popular. More cautioned against a habit she viewed as cultivating a taste only for "delicious morsels," one that spits out "every thing which is plain." Good books, in contrast, require good readers: "In all well-written books, there is much that is good which is not dazzling; and these shallow critics should be taught, that it is for the embellishment of the more tame and uninteresting parts of his work, that the judicious poet commonly reserves those flowers, whose beauty is defaced when they are plucked from the garland into which he had so skillfully woven them. — Karen Swallow Prior

Only my dead body would allow her to walk out that door." Warner exercises his jaw and spits blood on the floor.
"You, I would kill for pleasure," he says to Adam. "But Juliette is the one I want forever. — Tahereh Mafi

War." Gorgon spits the word. "That is what they call it to give the illusion of honor and law. It is chaos. Madness and blood and the hunger to win. It has always been thus and shall always be so. — Libba Bray

I think your life is governed not by the bricks or mortar around you, it's governed by who holds your hand and who spits in your eye. — David McCallum

Not voting is one of the worst things that could happen in our community. You can vote for whoever you want to, but choosing not to vote spits in the face of our ancestors who fought for our right to vote. — Otis Moss III

... the worshipers here are not likely to kill one another, they all offer the same sacrifice, and how the fat spits and the carcasses sizzle as God in the sublime heavens inhales the odors of all this carnage with satisfaction. Jesus pressed his lamb to his breast, unable to fathom why God could not be appeased with a cup of milk poured over His altar, that sap of life which passes from one being to another, or with a handful of wheat, the basic substance of immortal bread. Soon he will have to part with the old man's generous gift, his for such a short time, the poor little lamb will not live to see the sun set this day, it is time to mount the stairs of the Temple, to deliver it to the knife and sacrificial fire, as if it were no longer worthy of existence or being punished ... — Jose Saramago

He spits out an epithet so nasty I think it's only legal in England. And then only when your favourite football club loses. — Tera Lynn Childs

Our town carves up and spits out a few seeds each year. We all approach autumn with dread because nobody wants to be a seed. — Howard Odentz

I'm forbidden fruit. Once you go to certain households, mommy doesn't want you to see that dirty man who sticks his tongue out and spits out blood and all that stuff. — Gene Simmons

The law is a crude machine at best, and only spits out something approaching justice of its attendants are committed to justice. As lawyering has become less about doing right and more about doing what you can get away with, our standards of acceptable shenanigans-as-usual seem to be in a free fall. — Holman W. Jenkins Jr.

I am for an art that imitates the human, that is comic, if necessary, or violent, or whatever is necessary. I am for an art that takes its form from the lines of life itself, that twists and extends and accumulates and spits and drips, and is heavy and coarse and blunt and sweet and stupid as life itself. — Claes Oldenburg

Thomas More syas that the imperial troops, for their enjoyment, are roasting live babies on spits. Oh, he would! says Thomas Cromwell. Listen, soldiers don't do that. They're too busy carrying away everything they can turn into ready money. — Hilary Mantel

Find a cunt that fits you and you'll never be the same", he would say. "Never find any peace. See, it won't matter if she dishonors you. It won't matter if she lies to you, hurts you, spits in your face, fucks other men. All you'll want to know is: are you coming back to me? Are you going to let me have that fantastic cunt one more time? One more time with that cunt that fits you is all you'll care about. Ruin your family, ruin yourself, nothing will matter. — Harry Crews

Whore!" he snarls, slamming me into the wall so hard stars burst in my eyes. I hiss at him, the tiger in me threatening to emerge and rip out his throat, but a shout brings me back to myself.
"Zahra!"
I turn my head and see Aladdin running toward us. When he sees that it's Darian holding me roughly against the wall, his face twists into such rage that he seems unrecognizable.
He crashes into Darian before the prince has a chance to say anything. The two slam into the ground, Aladdin throwing a punch that cracks against Darian's jaw.
"Stop it!" I cry. "Prince Rahzad!"
The boys ignore me, rolling and thrashing like dogs.
Leave them! Zhian roars. Let me out!
"How dare you touch her?" Aladdin spits, grabbing Darian by the hair and pressing the prince's face into the stone floor. "You bastard!"
"I didn't give her anything she didn't ask for," Darian hisses back. "Get off me or I'll have you executed! — Jessica Khoury

There is a white girl from Australia that spits in an Australian accent, and her name is Chelsea Jane. That I can get into. Teach me Australian Hip-Hop culture. Don't come to America and try to convince me that you're Gangsta BooWe're not going to believe you if you're trying to convince us that you're out here trap shooting. — Rah Digga

You know those things that you throw the twigs into and it spits them out? That's what I do. The branches are like life, and I throw them into my head and some of it comes out as humor. — Steven Wright

When what one does, reps, or 'spits', repetitively, is foul or beastly - one summons spiritual undertakers to dine on fleshly parasites. In various forms, nature's law purges all that becomes wasteful. Change your game, or the game will change you. — T.F. Hodge

Humanity is as much lacking as decency. Blood, suffering, does not move them. The court frequents bull and bear baitings; Elizabeth beats her maids, spits upon a courtier's fringed coat, boxes Essex's ears; great ladies beat their children and their servants. "The sixteenth century," he says, "is like a den of lions. Amid passions so strong as these there is not one lacking. Nature appears here in all its violence, but also in all its fullness. If nothing has been softened, nothing has been mutilated. It is the entire man who is displayed, heart, mind, body, senses, with his noblest and finest aspirations, as with his most bestial and savage appetites, without the preponderance of any dominant passion to cast him altogether in one direction, to exalt or degrade him. He has not become rigid as he will under Puritanism. — William Shakespeare

They are all slaves now. Mustang is making them as we speak. But ohhh, she's in an odd mood." He spits out a bone. "Ha! This him then? The Jackal? He looks pale as a Red's ass." He peers closer. "Shit. You nailed him down!" "I think you've taken bigger shits than him, Pax," Sevro adds. "Prime have. More colorful ones too. He's drab as a Brown." "Guard your tongue, fool," the Jackal tells Pax. "It may not always be there." "Neither will your prick if you keep sassin'! Ha! Is it as small as you?" Pax booms. The — Pierce Brown

If there's one thing I've learned, buddy, it's that love is messy and complicated. If it's too easy, then it isn't the real deal. It can't be, because passion doesn't follow the path of least resistance. It's this fiery, out-of-control entity that sucks you in and spits you out more hurt and more alive than ever before. — Siobhan Davis

Slang is a language that rolls up its sleeves, spits on its hands and goes to work. — Carl Sandburg

With these words of prayer he threw the barley-grains. The two heroes responsible for the oxen, might Ankaios and Herakles, girded themselves in preparation. The latter crashed his club down on the middle of the forehead of one ox; in one movement its heavy body fell to the ground. Ankaios cut the other's broad neck with his bronze axe, slicing through the tough tendons; it fell sprawling over its two horns. Their comrades quickly slaughtered and flayed the oxen, chopping and cutting them up and removing the thigh pieces for sacrifice These they covered all over with a thick layer of fat and burnt them on spits, while the son of Aison poured libations of unmixed wine. Idmon rejoiced as he gazed at the flame, which burnt brightly all around the sacrifices, and the favourable omen of the murky smoke, darting up in dark spirals. — Apollonius Of Rhodes

Two big hands cup my ass and pull me down onto his face. When his tongue glides over me, I almost come on the spot. Taking a breath, I grasp his cock in one hand and lower my mouth to his engorged head. I give a tiny lick, then breathe out, "Better?" His response is a hungry growl punctuated by the brush of his tongue on my clit. I wrap my lips around him and suck gently, the salty flavor of him tickling my tongue and heating my blood. He tastes delicious. He's thick and hard and throbbing in my mouth, and it's the hottest thing in the whole damn world. I don't know how long we lie in this position, torturing each other with greedy licks and deep sucks, but just as the first tingles of orgasm warm the base of my spine, Blake abruptly yanks me off of him and flips me over. "Cheezus!" he spits out. "If I don't fuck you right now, I'm gonna die, Jessie. — Sarina Bowen

People get cranky when you burst their bubble. Over time, advances in astronomy have relentlessly reinforced the utter insignificance of Earth on a celestial scale. Fortunately, political and religious leaders stopped barbecuing astronomers for saying so, turning their spits with human-rights activists instead. — Nathan Myhrvold

Ethics based on this faultily quoted verse have changed nothing in post-Gandhi India, save the color of its administration. From a hungry man's point of view, though, it's all the same who makes him hungry. I submit that he may even prefer a white man to be responsible for his sorry state if only because this way social evil may appear to come from elsewhere and may perhaps be less efficient than the suffering at the hand of his own kind. With an alien in charge, there is still room for hope, for fantasy.
Similarly in post-Tolstoy Russia, ethics based on this misquoted verse undermined a great deal of the nation's resolve in confronting the police state. What has followed is known all too well: six decades of turning the other cheek transformed the face of the nation into one big bruise, so that the state today, weary of its violence, simply spits at that face. As well as at the face of the world. — Joseph Brodsky

Let's talk.' he spits the words out like they are garbage in his mouth. 'Please, don't go. I'll talk."
'You want to talk?'
He shrugs sheepishly. 'Well, I can't fuck any sense into you, so I guess I'll have to talk some into you.' he grumbles. — Jodi Ellen Malpas

Sheriff Dennis lifts an Ole Miss coffee mug off the desk and spits tobacco juice into it. "I like spitting on the Rebels," he says distractedly. — Greg Iles

Alice does not turn around, but only to stare at the judge, then she spits on the floor of the court and rushes out, two fat policewomen trying to keep pace with her. — Mohammed Hanif

There's a guy on YouTube named Mac Lethal - he spits hot fire. — Bobby Moynihan