Thrusting Quotes & Sayings

A twitch at the controls could swerve the cat', but the driver's hands could not twitch because the monster that built the tractor, the monster that sent the tractor out, had somehow got into the driver's hands, into his brain and muscle, had goggled him and muzzled him - goggled his mind, muzzled his speech, goggled his perception, muzzled his protest. He could not see the land as it was, he could not smell the land as it smelled; his feet did not stamp the clods or feel the warmth and power of the earth. He sat in an iron seat and stepped on iron pedals. He could not cheer or beat or curse or encourage the extension of his power, and because of this he could not cheer or whip or curse or encourage himself. He did not know or own or trust or beseech the land. If a seed dropped did not germinate, it was nothing. If the young thrusting plant withered in drought or drowned in a flood of rain, it was no more to the driver than to the tractor. He — John Steinbeck

He knew clearly enough that his imagination was growing traitor to him, and yet at times it seemed the ship he sailed in, his fellow-passengers, the sailors, the wide sea, were all part of a filmy phantasmagoria that hung, scarcely veiling it, between him and a horrible real world. Then the Porroh man, thrusting his diabolical face through that curtain, was the one real and undeniable thing. At that he would get up and touch things, taste something, gnaw something, burn his hand with a match, or run a needle into himself.
("Pollock And The Porrah Man") — H.G.Wells

THAT YEAR THE RAINS HAD COME so gently that the Salinas River did not overflow. A slender stream twisted back and forth in its broad bed of gray sand, and the water was not milky with silt but clear and pleasant. The willows that grow in the river bed were well leafed, and the wild blackberry vines were thrusting their spiky new shoots along the ground. — John Steinbeck

Because I deserve more," she said. "I deserve a man who loves me above all else. I deserve a family and happiness."
"Then go!" he growled. "Go off and find this mythical man and spread your legs for him if it'll give you what you want."
She took two strides toward him and slapped him, quick and hard, and then her eyes widened as she realized what she'd done. "Oh, I'm sorry."
He turned his face back to her slowly, almost lazily. "I'm not."
And then she was in his arms, his mouth on hers, wild and hot and dangerously close to out of control. He thrust his hand into her hair, holding her head immobile, and ravished her mouth, biting, tonguing, thrusting. — Elizabeth Hoyt

I don't fight old men, he said. That was strange. No one had ever called me old before. I remember laughing, but there was shock behind my laughter. Weeks before, talking with Aethelflaed, I had mocked her because she was staring at her face in a great silver platter. She was worried because she had lines about her eyes and she had responded to my mockery by thrusting the plate at me, and I had looked at my reflection and seen that my beard was gray. I remember staring at it as she laughed at me, and I did not feel old even though my wounded leg could be treacherously stiff. Was that how people saw me? As an old man? Yet I was forty-five years old that year, so yes, I was an old man. — Bernard Cornwell

Have another biscuit," she said irritably, thrusting the tin at him. "No, thanks," said Harry coldly. "Don't be ridiculous," she snapped. He took one. "Thanks," he said grudgingly. — J.K. Rowling

And one morning while in the woods I stumbled suddenly upon the thing, Stumbled upon it in a grassy clearing guarded by scaly oaks and elms And the sooty details of the scene rose, thrusting themselves between the world and me ... . — Ta-Nehisi Coates

When the Warrior pulled her half onto his lap and she felt the hard bulge of his erection thrusting up from his groin pressing into her hip, Katya grew nervous. She pulled away, gasping, and pressed him back with her hand on his chest. "Wait! Wait." She licked her tingling lips and touched them with her fingertips, wondering what she'd been thinking to awaken this sleeping giant. What had happened to her vow to fight him off with all her strength?
Turan's dark eyes glowed like two banked coals ready to ignite into flame. "Please. More," he begged hoarsely. "Please."
She suddenly realized that, despite the fact he could snap her in two if he wished, she was the one with the power. He didn't intend to hurt or force her. — Bonnie Dee

I wandered in the streets, what with the noise the people made, the number of the coaches, the running of the footmen, the swaggering of great courtiers, and the thrusting aside of everybody, many a time I longed to be back among the sheep again, for fear of losing my peacefulness of spirit. — R.D. Blackmore

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

God pulled out almost to the tip and eased back in again. His body was pressed against his man from head to toe; only his hips moved his cock in and out of that heavenly cavern. God heard Day release the sexiest moan he'd ever heard in his life, and he thrust in with more power. "Yes! Fuck, right there! Right fucking there," Day urged while thrusting his hips up to meet him. God — A.E. Via

He returned in a moment with a phone, a high-end model that probably cost way more than hers. His cell phone wallpaper was an abstract artwork with lots of colorful circles and blots - Kandinsky, maybe, or Miro? She always got those
two confused. She gave him points for not having a picture of some scantily-clad woman thrusting her boobs at the camera, like Steve had on his phone. Tacky. Nude-woman wallpapers were the cell phone equivalent of silver naked-lady mud flaps, in her opinion. — Linda Morris

We'll then," Enjd said. "What's the problem?"
"This," Mindy said. She opened her hand and held up a tiny green plastic toy solider thrusting a bayonet.
"I don't understand," Enid said.
"This morning, when I opened my door to get the newspaper, I found a whole troop of them arranged on the mat."
"And you think Paul Rice did it," Enid said skeptically.
"I don't think he did it. I know he did it," Mindy said. "He told me if I didn't approve his air conditioners, it was war ... — Candace Bushnell

I didn't respond to people thrusting microphones at me and asking me questions that were unanswerable in a sound bite. — Bill Ayers

Francesca actually felt her chin drop. "Mother," she said, shaking her head, "you really should have stopped at seven."
"Children, you mean?" Violet asked, sipping at her tea. "Sometimes I do wonder."
"Mother!" Hyacinth exclaimed.
Violet just smiled at her. "Salt?"
"It took her eight tries to get it right," Hyacinth announced, thrusting the salt cellar at her mother with a decided lack of grace.
"And does that mean that you, too, hope to have eight children?" Violet inquired sweetly.
"God no," Hyacinth said. With great feeling. And neither she nor Francesca could quite resist a chuckle after that. — Julia Quinn

Gingee, Gingee, it's meeeeeeeeeeee!!!'
I could hear her panting up the stairs to my room. She kicked open my bedroom door and ran from the door and leapt onto the bed, covering me with kisses.
'I LOBE you, my big big sister.'
I couldn't get her off me.
'Libby, just let me ... '
'Kissy kissy kiss, snoggy snog.'
'That's enough, now let me ... '
'Mmmmmm, groovy baby.'
What is she talking about? She is supposed to be in kindergarten to learn how to grow up, not turn into an even madder person.
Then she stood up on the bed and starting thrusting her hips out and singing her favorite:
'Sex bum sex bum I am a sex bum.'
Quite spectacularly mad. — Louise Rennison

In the country, spring is a time of small happenings happening quietly, hyacinth shoots thrusting in a garden, willows burning with a sudden frosty fire of green, lengthening afternoons of long flowing dusk, and midnight rain opening lilac; but in the city there is the fanfare of organ-grinders, and odors, undiluted by winter wind, clog the air; windows long closed go up, and conversation, drifting beyond a room, collides with the jangle of a peddler's bell. — Truman Capote

Richard Curtis, the writer and director of Love Actually, is brilliant at many things, but his genius, I submit, is for thrusting characters into situations in which they feel driven to humiliate themselves. Which is why we love them, especially when it's all in the name of love. He is the Bard of Embarrassment. — David Edelstein

This commissary was a man of very repulsive mien, with a pointed nose, with yellow and salient cheek bones, with eyes small but keen and penetrating, and an expression of countenance resembling at one the polecat and the fox. His head, supported by a long and flexible neck, issued from his large black robe, balancing itself with a motion very much like that of the tortoise thrusting his head out of his shell. — Alexandre Dumas

Crusted bloodstains marred the carpet everywhere, with chunks of matted gore thrusting from their centers, like ebony volcanoes oozing rivers of tissue. A — Joe Hart

Men were springing up, a black avenging host was slowly germinating in the furrows, thrusting upward for the harvests of future ages. And very soon their germination would crack the earth asunder. — Emile Zola

To learn English you must begin by thrusting the jaw forward, almost clenching the teeth, and practically immbilizing the lips. In this way the English produce the series of unpleasant little mews of which their language consists. — Jose Ortega Y Gasset

Whether we're prepared or not, life has a habit of thrusting situations upon us. — Lucille Ball

We can escape the commonplace only by manipulating it, controlling it, thrusting it into our dreams or surrendering it to the free play of our subjectivity. — Raoul Vaneigem

being disappeared who was protected by none, dear to none, interesting to none, and who never even attracted to himself the attention of those students of human nature who omit no opportunity of thrusting a pin through a common fly, and examining it under the microscope. — Nikolai Gogol

The Ranger moved in closer, thrusting his thumb in and out of the vampire's mouth with a lewd sort of motion. "It's still light out. Where ya gunna go, even if I were to let ya out? Ya not a Day Walker, else ya'd be out already trying to rustle up a Werewolf. So why don't ya just relax an' do what those eyes have wanted to do since we first met. — A.L. Wilson

This is the excellent foppery of the world, that,
when we are sick in fortune,
often the surfeit
of our own behavior,
we make guilty of our
disasters the sun, the moon, and the stars: as
if we were villains by necessity; fools by
heavenly compulsion; knaves, thieves, and
treachers, by spherical predominance; drunkards,
liars, and adulterers, by an enforced obedience of
planetary influence; and all that we are evil in,
by a divine thrusting on: an admirable evasion
of whoremaster man, to lay his goatish
disposition to the charge of a star. — William Shakespeare

Multiculturalism may well be our saviour, wresting us out from the straitjacket of our history, thrusting the old continent into an environment where other ethnicities, less cynical and more positive, will play a big role in its future. — Loretta Napoleoni

he was thrusting into her in one hard stroke that stole the breath from both their lungs. She was small but strong as she pulled — Bella Andre

There was not a tree on the place, only the horrible prickly pear bushes thrusting out their distorted arms as if exulting in their own nakedness. — Ethel M. Dell

The very essence of anxious care is the imagining that we are wiser than God, and the thrusting ourselves into his place to do for him that which he has undertaken to do for us. We attempt to think of that which we fancy he will forget; we labour to take upon ourselves our weary burden, as if he were unable or unwilling to take it for us. Now — Charles Haddon Spurgeon

Love is not a thing you can pick up and throw into the gutter and pick up again as the fancy takes you. I am a person, very unfortunately for you, with a quite peculiar dread of thrusting myself or my affections on any one, of in any way outstaying my welcome. The man I would love would be the man I could trust to love me for ever. I do not trust you. I did outstay my welcome once. I did get thrown into the gutter, and came near drowning in that sordid place. — Elizabeth Von Arnim

Crises have a way of thrusting into the limelight hitherto obscure persons, and giving them, for a long or short period, a leading role. — Susan Ertz

And so maybe it isn't the motivating factors that matter so much as simply participating - thrusting your best true, authentic self into the universe with wild abandon. Maybe yielding to our true nature propels us forward into the great unknown, toward targets that we haven't even dreamed up yet but exist nonetheless. — Matthew Quick

A being disappeared who was protected by none, dear to none, interesting to none, and who never even attracted to himself the attention of those students of human nature who omit no opportunity of thrusting a pin through a common fly, and examining it under the microscope. A being who bore meekly the jibes of the department, and went to his grave without having done one unusual deed, but to whom, nevertheless, at the close of his life appeared a bright visitant in the form of a cloak, which momentarily cheered his poor life, and upon whom, thereafter, an intolerable misfortune descended, just as it descends upon the mighty of this world! — Nikolai Gogol

Religion demands above all the concentration of the spirit...it is a thrusting into the unity of all things so as to come to grips in the hiddenness of the soul with the unity of the One from Whom it all comes. — Abraham Kuyper

Vernal Equinox
The scent of hyacinths, like a pale mist, lies
between me and my book;
And the South Wind, washing through the room,
Makes the candles quiver.
My nerves sting at a spatter of rain on the shutter,
And I am uneasy with the thrusting of green shoots
Outside, in the night.
Why are you not here to overpower me with your
tense and urgent love? — Amy Lowell

In practice it undermines the transformation of faith. When Christians concentrate their time and energy on their own separate spheres and their own institutions-whether all-absorbing megachurches, Christian yellow-page businesses, or womb-to-tomb Christian cultural ghettoes-they lose the outward thrusting, transforming power that is at the heart of the gospel. Instead of being 'salt' and 'light' -images of a permeating and penetrating action-Christians and Christian institutions become soft and vulnerable to corruption from within. — Os Guinness

We hold these truths to be self-evident: that all men are
created equal; that they are endowed by their Creator with certain
inalienable rights; that among these are life, and the right to
make that of another miserable by thrusting upon him an
incalculable quantity of acquaintances; liberty, particularly the
liberty to introduce persons to one another without first
ascertaining if they are not already acquainted as enemies; and
the pursuit of another's happiness with a running pack of
strangers. — Ambrose Bierce

The door flew open, revealing a wrinkled, forward-thrusting face wreathed with a nimbus of wispy white hair, a face resembling nothing so much as a mole emerging from its burrow. Her spectacles were so dirty that I could hardly see the use of them. She peered at us as if at two scabrous street dogs and tightened her grasp on her cane.
"What do you want? I don't let rooms, and if you've business with my sons or my husband, they work for a living. — Lyndsay Faye

You like this?" he said, thrusting with every word. "You like this. Worthless. Street. Punk. Fucking. You? — C.D. Reiss

Salem houses present to you a serene and dignified front, gracious yet reserved, not thrusting forward their choicest treasures to the eyes of passing strangers; but behind the walls of the houses, enclosed from public view, lie cherished gardens, full of the beauty of life. — Alice Morse Earle

Frantic as my arousal built. The feel of Gideon's finger in that darkly sexual place, thrusting in that gentle rhythm, had me rocking backward to meet his inward drives. "You're so beautiful," he murmured, his voice infinitely gentle. "I love making you feel good. Love watching an orgasm move through your body." "Gideon." I was lost, drowning in the powerful joy of being held by him, loved by him. Four days alone had taught me how miserable I'd be if we couldn't work things out, how dull and colorless my world would be without him in it. "I need — Sylvia Day

He bent to lay his mouth on hers, thrusting his tongue lazily past her lips until she sucked on the thick length. "Are they any different?" he whispered against her mouth, "my kisses? Have they changed so much with my name?" She cracked her eyelids to look at him and murmur into the humid heat between them, "I can't tell. Perhaps you should demonstrate again." He licked at the corner of her mouth. "A scientific study, you mean?" His mouth trailed up her cheek, soft as a moth. "Quite," she breathed. "As you wish. — Elizabeth Hoyt

Cup check, she heard Bradley Grayson, an arrogant freshman lacrosse player, yell as he slammed his forearm, without warning, into Sam Wolfe's groin.
Sam, naked, bent over and clutched himself, thrusting his large, pale, Sasquatch-like hairy, pimply ass right in her face.
This was every girl's greatest fear come to life. The Gates of Hell had opened. She would never, she thought, be allowed to enjoy a moment's pleasure without an eternity of pain in exchange. For little Damen, she'd have to endure a LOT of Sam. The metaphor was not lost of Charlotte.
And it got worse. As Same clenched, a tiny involuntary puff of sulfurous gas escaped. For the first time ever, she was glad to be dead, for no other reason than his butt smelled as bad as it looked ... Was it even possible to die twice? — Tonya Hurley

The October evening is windless and cool. There is a distant throb of a motorcycle. The boy puts his head on one side to get a better fix on the sound. Holding it still, he tries to work out the distance; to hear if the bike is coming closer or moving away; if it's being ridden over level or marshy ground, or up the stony slope on the town side of the hill.

A low groan escapes the man standing over the kneeling boy. With his back pressed to the cliff, the man appears to have merged with his own shadow, become grafted to the rock. He groans again, louder, in increasing frustration, thrusting his hips so his swollen member slides to and fro in the boy's mouth. — Sjon

Controlling unwanted thoughts is not the problem. Believing, thrusting, and taking direction from them is. — Charles F. Glassman

True variety is in that plenitude of real and unexpected elements, in the branch charged with blue flowers thrusting itself, against all expectations, from the springtime hedge which seems already too full, while the purely formal imitation of varietyis but void and uniformity, that is, that which is most opposed to variety ... — Marcel Proust

Stop," he ordered, in a low but compelling voice. "Do not take another step, or I fire! Dash it," he added vexedly, "does the monstrosity understand English? How absurd this is!"

"It understands the gesture, at least," I called, thrusting head and shoulders through the window. "Lucas, for pity's sake, seize it! Don't stand there deriding its linguistic inadequacies! — Elizabeth Peters

For nearly a decade Democrats have sought a religious wedge issue that could separate big chunks of white evangelical voters from their Republican home. Now they've found it, and are thrusting at the Social Darwinist/Ayn Rand underbelly of American conservatism. — Marvin Olasky

Mr. Italia sat belching under a pair of oval-framed photographs of parents hairier, if possible, than himself. His wife was dead, but there was a picture of her, too, in her casket, gazing out at us with an eerie simulacrum of motherly love. Dark-complected Mr. Italia was indeed, with handle-bar mustaches of a size that might have made him topple forward out of his chair were it not for the posture seemingly aimed at correcting the leverage in his favor. He drank beer after thrusting into my hand a bottle of soda pop of marked but unidentifiable flavor, pale yellow in color, and lukewarm. — Peter De Vries

Each day we live is a glass room
Until we break it with the thrusting
Of the spirit and pass through
The splintered walls to the green pastures
Where the birds and buds are breaking
Into fabulous song and hue
By the still waters.
- Each Day We Live is a Glass Room — Mervyn Peake

Why do you ask?"
"Because I can."
"You can what?"
"I can go in the private collection!" I scurried toward him. "My father had a lifetime subscriptioin, Mr. Sheridan, and not just that, but he had special privileges. I'm certain I could use his name to get you into the private collection."
Daniel's jaw fell. "Why didn't you say so before?"
"What?" I recoiled. "How was I supposed to know you needed it?"
"We could've gone ages ago!"
My enthusiasm transformed into outrage. "In that case, why didn't you say you needed it?"
"Because I didn't know you had a subscription!"
"Aha!" I cried, thrusting a finger at him. "Your argument's a circle!"
Daniel sprang up. "We wasted all this time-"
"Silence!" Joseph roared. "You are like squawking parrots, and I have had quite enough. Miss Fitt, I would ask that you take Mr. Sheridan to the library immediately. Daniel, I would ask that you keep that big mouth of yours silent. — Susan Dennard

Arianne moved trembling hands over his shoulders, tangling them in his soft, thick hair. "Is this how you dance?" Jagger jerked her closer, thrusting his knee between her legs, forcing her dress to ride dangerously high. "Sweetheart, this is how I fuck. — Sarah Castille

An amoeba is a formless thing which takes many shapes. It moves by thrusting out an arm, and flowing into the arm. It multiplies by pulling itself in two, without permanently diminishing the original. So with words. A meaning may develop on the periphery of the body of meanings associated with a word, and shortly this tentacle-meaning has grown to such proportions that it dwarfs all other meanings. — Charlton Laird

That makes,what? The second time I've saved your life? Third, if you count that thing in Defense with the Vandy. Speaking of which, you're still thrusting your elbow too high on Skill Nine."
I swallowed twice before I was able to answer. "I'll work on that. — Rachel Hawkins

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

The bullet didn't come out. I've got to go in and get it." "Have you ever done that?" she asked, quickly thrusting the bottle into my hands. I guess she thought whoever possessed the bottle had to perform the surgery. "I filled in pot holes, Jen. Not much call for field surgery in that line of work." "What about before that?" she grasped. "Oh yeah sure, I left a lucrative and life-fulfilling job as a highly skilled surgeon to live the prosaic life of a road crew man. Filling holes seemed a much nobler profession." "Don't — Mark Tufo

The gate clicks behind me. The tulips along the border are redder than ever, opening, no longer wine cups by chalices; thrusting themselves up, to what end? They are, after all, empty. — Margaret Atwood

Each day I live in a glass room unless I break it with the thrusting of my senses and pass through the splintered walls to the great landscape. — Mervyn Peake

IMPALE, v.t. In popular usage, to pierce with any weapon which remains fixed in the wound ... properly, to put to death by thrusting an upright sharp stake into the body, the victim being left in a sitting position. — Ambrose Bierce

We were decadent in our intimacy. Leaving no inch of skin untouched lest a moment of rapture slip through our grasp. Thrusting and plunging, in dazed euphoria, the exquisite cravings for those carnal delights ravaged our souls until shamelessly, gasping lust tainted air, we discovered insatiability... — Virginia Alison

Beware the greedy hand of government thrusting itself into every corner and crevice of industry. — Thomas Paine

To accept struggle as part of life, to accept all of it, even the darkest moments of anguish; to be motivated by love rather than fear, by confidence rather than insecurity: these are the benchmarks of high self-esteem. The wish to avoid fear and pain is not the motive that drives the lives of highly evolved men and women; rather, it is the life force within them, thrusting toward its unique form of expression-the actualization of personal values. — Nathaniel Branden

Eternity is with us, inviting our contemplation perpetually, but we are too frightened, lazy, and suspicious to respond; too arrogant to still our thought, and let divine sensation have its way. It needs industry and goodwill if we would make that transition; for the process involves a veritable spring-cleaning of the soul, a turning-out and rearrangement of our mental furniture, a wide opening of closed windows, that the notes of the wild birds beyond our garden may come to us fully charged with wonder and freshness, and drown with their music the noise of the gramaphone within. Those who do this, discover that they have lived in a stuffy world, whilst their inheritance was a world of morning-glory:where every tit-mouse is a celestial messenger, and every thrusting bud is charged with the full significance of life. — Evelyn Underhill

You're home!" she said as she rushed through the front door. "Because I have some wonderful news, and I have to - Cody, don't just throw your jacket there; hang it up on the - Astor, for God's sake, don't slam the door like that. Here, take the baby," she said to me, thrusting Lily Anne in my direction and turning away again so rapidly that I had to lurch forward to grab the baby, spilling a quarter of a cup of coffee as I did. Rita — Jeff Lindsay

So Witch Baby played. Tossing her head, sucking in her cheeks and popping up with the impact of each beat. Thrusting her whole body into the music and thrusting the music into the air around her. She imagined that her drums were planets and the music was all the voices of growth and light and life joined together and traveling the universe. — Francesca Lia Block

On the Gulf side of these islands you may observe that the trees - where there are any trees - all bend away from the sea; and, even of bright, hot days when the wind sleeps, there is something grotesquely pathetic in their look of agonized terror. A group of oaks ... I remember as especially suggestive: five stooping silhouettes in line against the horizon, like fleeing women with streaming garments and wind-blown hair, - bowing grievously and thrusting out arms desperately northward as to save themselves from falling. And they are being pursued indeed; - for the sea is devouring the land. — Lafcadio Hearn

I followed the curve that rose from the capitals of the semicircle of columns and ran along the ribs of the vault toward the key, mirroring the mystery of the ogive, that supreme static hypocrisy which rests on an absence, making the columns believe that they are thrusting the great ribs upward and the ribs believe that they are holding the columns down, the vault being both all and noting, at once cause and effect. — Umberto Eco

No money shots! No shifting, grinding, joyfully thrusting crotch shots. It didn't matter. It was all there in his eyes, his face, the face of a Saturday night jukebox Dionysus, the shimmying eyebrows and rocking band. — Bruce Springsteen

We still find the greedy hand of government thrusting itself into every corner and crevice of industry and grasping at the spoil of the multitude. Invention is continually exercised to furnish new pretenses for revenue and taxation. It watches prosperity as its prey and permits none to escape without a tribute. — Thomas Paine

Of all the vulgar arts of government, that of solving every difficulty that might arise by thrusting the hand into the public purse is the most illusory and contemptible. — Robert Peel

When rowan leaves are dank and rusting And rowan berries red as blood, When in my palm the hangman's thrusting The final nail with bony thud, When, over the foul flooding river, Upon the wet grey height, I toss Before my land's grim looks, and shiver As I swing here upon the cross, Then, through the blood and weeping, stretches My dying sight to space remote; I see upon the river's reaches Christ sailing to me in a boat. — Alexander Blok

At the Super Bowl, when Beyonce was thrusting her hips forward in a very suggestive manner, if someone else had done that, it would've been a national scandal. I thought it was ridiculous. — Donald Trump

What women wanted to be eaten alive, choked by a thrusting tongue? Not me, I wanted to be played like a violin, strummed pianissimo, in largo timing, fingered into legato, and let it grow into crescendo. — V.C. Andrews

He kisses the D.S.'s hand thrusting his fingers into his mouth (the D.S. must feel his toothless gums) complaining he has lost teeth "inna thervith". "Please Boss Man. I'll wipe your ass, I'll wash out your dirty condoms, I'll polish your shoes with the oil on my nose ... — William S. Burroughs

We had all commenced that thrusting and parrying that always goes on when you meet new people. How I hated those games. I wondered if they went on forever. Did you ever grow up enough not to have to jockey for position? Could you ever just say, 'Hi, I'm Rachel Gold. I like to read and eat. Who are you? — Barbara Cohen

Maryanne paid for her purchases, and once everything was stuffed into the blue plastic bags, she headed toward the exit. That's when she spotted her tail again... not six feet away.

"Here," she said, thrusting her purchases at J.Z.'s middle. "Since you're sticking to me like used bubble gum to my shoes, you can make yourself useful. Carry these to my car, please."

She left him, arms full of bags, jaw agape, and wend to buy a soft pretzel and an icy drink. — Ginny Aiken

Is this the happiness you seek?" he whispered hoarsely. "Tell me now, and I will give it to you." He
moved down her body, his mouth on her bosom, his breath hot on her skin, and his hand freeing her
breast. Phoebe ran her fingers through his hair, thrusting her breast forward as he took the peak into his
mouth.
This was insanity!"Only a profligate would confuse happiness with desire - Oh!" The swell of pleasure
his mouth on her breast gave her was startling, and she cried out.
"And only a fool would try and separate the two," he responded hotly before he closed his mouth
around her other breast — Julia London

Whatever happened to chivalry? Does it only exist in 80's movies? I want John Cusack holding a boombox outside my window. I wanna ride off on a lawnmower with Patrick Dempsey. I want Jake from Sixteen Candles waiting outside the church for me. I want Judd Nelson thrusting his fist into the air because he knows he got me. Just once I want my life to be like an 80's movie, preferably one with a really awesome musical number for no apparent reason. But no, no, John Hughes did not direct my life. — Bert V. Royal

He kissed him like a man starved, thrusting his tongue past his parted lips and drowning himself in the taste and feel of Paul after three weeks without him. — Kele Moon

Whatever the culture, there's a tongue in our head. Some use it, some hold it, some bite it. For the French it is a rapier, thrusting in attack; the English, using it defensively, mumble a vague, confusing reply; for Italians and Spaniards it is an instrument of eloquence; Finns and East Asians throw you with constructive silence. Silence is a form of speech, so don't interrupt it! — Richard D. Lewis

I was born just after the end of World War II, and with my friends in our little suburban backyards in New Jersey, we used to play war a lot. I don't know if boys still play war, they probably do, but we were thrusting ourselves into recent history and we were always fighting either the Nazis or the Japanese. — Paul Auster

In the midst of what appears to be a traditional male-power fantasy about war and politics, he serves up a grim, realistic, and harrowing depiction of what happens when women aren't fully empowered in a society. In doing so, by creating such diverse and fully rendered female characters and thrusting them into this grim and bitter world, Martin has created a subversively feminist tale. — James Lowder

I never want to leave this shower," he said, thrusting. "Never want to leave you. 'Cause I'm never going to fucking get enough. — Tara Sue Me

Her abdomen clenched as he thrust hard once, filling her completely. Surprising her, he didn't start thrusting, but remained still inside her as he continued kissing her.
She could kiss the sexy man for hours, be consumed by the taste and feel of him.
"Move, damn it," she gasped. She was aware the demand sounded a lot like begging. She was beyond caring. She needed more, more, more. — Katie Reus

She had only been able to imagine what Kane was like. And she realised just how limited her imagination had been as he consumed every inch of her, thrusting into her with such controlled force that every part of her ached. — Lindsay J. Pryor

I think it's just a gash. Hurts like bloody hell, though. Remind me ... to never try to rescue you again."
"I can't believe the timing, that you stepped in just when I was thrusting. I didn't see you."
"I didn't see the knife, so we're even. — Lorraine Heath

Then before I knew it, his considerable girth was inside me, stretching my virgin passage almost to the point of tearing, and he was thrusting into me as if he were trying to drive me completely through the mattress to the floor beneath. — Cristina Rayne

Usually, when he came in these dreams he woke up still thrusting into ruined sheets, his face pressed into a pillow.
This time, he was most assuredly still balls deep inside Delilah McGavin, his face pressed into the mass of silken black hair now that they'd fallen to their sides on a bed far too nice to be his. Like him, she was gasping, trying to catch her breath. She was also bonelessly limp, her sweat slick body slathered over his, their legs tangled, their sexes still throbbing against each other, fitted together like a lock and a key. — Dee Tenorio

He recognized her immediately when he saw her again. And what he recognized was her energy, which seemed to precede her. As if her spirit were thrusting itself forward, into the unknown; dazzled, charmed, challenged, hopeful, happy to be energized by the mysterious, loving the adrenaline rush of surprise. — Alice Walker

The only trouble at first was that one small, cold-sober part of her mind floated free of the rest of her; it was able to observe how solemn a man could be at times like this, how earnest in his hairy nakedness, and how predictable. You had only to offer up your breasts and there was his hungering mouth on one and then the other of them, drawing the nipples out hard; you had only to open your legs and there was his hand at work on you, tirelessly burrowing. Then you got his mouth again, and then you got the whole of him, boyishly proud of his first penetration, lunging and thrusting and ready to love you forever, if only to prove that he could. — Richard Yates

There are few situations in life that cannot be resolved promptly, and to the satisfaction of all concerned, by either suicide, a bag of gold, or thrusting a despised antagonist over a precipice on a dark night — Ernest Bramah

She could hardly believe it, not after ten years, but they were finally making out on her couch. And Holy Mother of God, Bryce Ryder could kiss!
He was slow and lazy with his kisses, but masterful. His tongue and fingers were thrusting forward and back, in and out, mimicking sex, winding her up so tight until she was rubbing her p#ssy against his hand while clutching his hair. More . . . she had to have more. — Sophie Renwick

Aggressive music has always been a liberator for me; however, hard tunes with no soul quickly wear thin. H.R. exhibited soul where it could not be found previously. His lyrics contributed an urgency fueled by spirituality and a call to social justice, which substantiated the ferocity of the Bad Brains' earth-shattering soundscapes. This included the instances when Bad Brains broke it down to a mesmerizing, skank-drenched reggae rhythm. H.R.'s vocal style was otherworldly; ever vacillating between combative and graceful expression; all the while thrusting forth a righteous dose of rebellion served with a side of hope. — Howie Abrams

Love is like a loaded musket," he mused. "And yet it's available to everyone. It's always . . ." He mimed thrusting out a gun. "'Here you are! Try not to kill yourself or others with it.' They oughtn't allow young people near it. — Julie Anne Long

Only for a minute. I'll be right back." He plopped the baby in her lap and hopped to his feet. Wren held her at arm's length and frowned. She did not appreciate that, because she immediately began wailing.
"Here," Wren said, thrusting her in my direction. "Take the mutant baby. — Amy Tintera

Peaseblossom reached down to grab the goblin, and Of the Lathe the Swarf reacted quickly, thrusting his small hands into his pockets and throwing a shower of silvery scraps over the elf. Peaseblossom screamed in pain as he fell from his horse. — Terry Pratchett

She remembered her hand and how to work it, tearing open his falls and the smallclothes beneath. Her breaths were coming in hot little pants now and she stared up at him as she took him into her fist. She would remember this. She'd remember this until her dying day, she promised herself.
"Ah, Eve," he groaned, his head falling back, his Adam's apple bobbing as he swallowed. He thrust once, convulsively, into her hand, and then he was lifting and spreading her legs, taking his cock out of her hand, thrusting into her.
She gasped, it was so fast. A complete possession. — Elizabeth Hoyt

Was. "Uh, hi, Walter. This is my daughter, Hayley, and this is her mom, Maggie McPherson." "Hi," Hayley said shyly. Maggie nodded and looked uncomfortable. Walter made the mistake of thrusting his hand out to Maggie. If she could have — Michael Connelly