Tingling Fingers Quotes & Sayings

I am a data hound and so I usually end up working on whatever things I can find good data on. The rise of Internet commerce completely altered the amount of information you could gather on company behavior so I naturally drifted toward it. — Austan Goolsbee

His kisses fade to nuzzle along my face and neck, soft and poignant. "Al," he whispers. "You taste so sweet ... like honeysuckle."
"Don't," I murmur, in a daze.
He draws back, eyes heavy and dark. "You want me to stop?"
"No." I've fallen asleep praying for you to look at me like this. To touch me like this. "Don't break my heart."
Moth shadows glide above him in the mirrored ceiling, distracting me from the fierceness of his frown. "I'd cut mine out first."
I believe he would. Stretching to tiptoe, I clasp his ponytail. This time, I kiss him. He responds with a spine-tingling growl, fingers digging into my hips. — A.G. Howard

And then we're kissing. His lips are soft and leave mine tingling. I close my eyes, and in the darkness behind them I see beautiful blooming things, flowers spinning like snowflakes, and hummingbirds beating the same rhythm as my heart. I'm gone, lost, floating away into nothingness like I am in my dream, but this time it's a good feeling - like soaring, like being totally free. His other hand pushes my hair from my face, and I can feel the impression of his fingers everywhere that they touch, and I think of stars streaking through the sky and leaving burning trails behind them, and in that moment - however long it lasts, seconds, minutes, days - while he's saying my name into my mouth and Im breathing into him, I realize this, right here, is the first and only time I've ever been kissed. — Lauren Oliver

He broke open the first of the meal packets, and inspected it without enthusiasm. The name on the label - SPACETASTIES - was enough to put him off. And he had grave doubts about the promise printed underneath: 'Guaranteed crumbless'. — Arthur C. Clarke

His gaze turned cold as he faced her. 'Sure, she's attractive. A stone wall would be attractive if it looked like that. It's her attitude I don't like. There's more to love than just getting your itches scratched. — Stephen R. Donaldson

Well, the musicals give emphasis to love, longing, melancholy, sadness. All of that is always there. — Ismail Merchant

He nodded, picking my hand up in his, bringing it to his mouth. His eyes locked on mine in the dark, and he put his lips to the back of my hand. He kissed the spot just behind my knuckles. He smoothed his thumb over the spot. He singled out a finger and pulled it in his mouth again and chewed. The rattling of my spine, shaking of my fingers and crazy spinning of my heart returned. Nathan kissed my hand. That meant something. Tingling radiated the area he kissed. A surge of worry swept over me as I realized I may have made a terrible mistake. Victor might be okay with us sleeping in the same bed, but what would he think if Nathan started kissing me? And why did I have the crazy urge to let him if he tried? — C.L.Stone

His fingers tighten, drawing my leg open so that ours knees touch and he leans closer to me. "Not at all," he whispers in a spine-tingling purr, eyes alight with secret sparkle. "It should scare you. It should scare you and enliven you. It should make you want to start a fire. Because you can. — A.L. Davroe

I don't do marriage. I think it's incredibly naff. And I don't like vulgar displays of ostentation. — Jenny Eclair

Camille?" Her voice quiet and girlish and unsure. "You know how people sometimes say they have to hurt because if they don't, they're so numb they won't feel anything?"
"Mmm."
"What if it's the opposite?" Amma whispered. "What if you hurt because it feels so good? Like you have a tingling, like someone left a switch on in your body. And nothing can turn that switch off except hurting? What does that mean?"
I pretended to be asleep. I pretended not to feel her fingers tracing vanish over and over on the back of my neck. — Gillian Flynn

Or I would be the rain itself, wreathing over the island, mingling in the quiet of moist places, filling its pores with its saturated breaths. And I would be the wind, whispering through the tangled woods, running airy fingers over the island's face, tingling in the chill of concealed places, sighing secrets in the dawn. And I would be the light, flinging over the island, covering it with flash and shadow, shining on rocks and pools, softening to a touch in the glow of dusk. If I were the rain and wind and light, I would encircle the island like the sky surrounding earth, flood through it like a heart driven pulse, shine from inside it like a star in flames, burn away to blackness in the closed eyes of its night. There are so many ways I could love this island, if I were the rain. — Richard Nelson

Do you trust me?" Tam said it almost too softly to be heard.
I hesitated, sighed, then reached down and took his hand. Tam's fingers wrapped warm and strong around mine. The magic sparked between us, though this time it was warm and tingling, not violent and lustful.
"Though you're the last thing I need," I muttered.
I heard the smile in his voice. "But I'm the first thing you want. — Lisa Shearin

That was ... " I trailed off trying to find the proper adjective.
"Long overdue?"
"Long overdue? You're the one who got skittish when I mentioned how I felt and backed away when we almost kissed."
"You call me on all my crap, don't you?" He laughed throwing his head back. "That's one of the things I love about you," he said. His fingers
skimmed up my shoulders until they cradled my neck and my whole body tingling. — Lani Woodland

Cats ask plainly for what they want. — Walter Savage Landor

To manifest your SoulMate you have to either invite others into your world or go out into their world. Either way, you have to open the door. — Annette Vaillancourt

and when I took my fingers down, there was the stain of the tears, tinged with mortal blood. And already there was begun in me the tingling of the monster that had killed, and would kill again, — Anne Rice

-Humph! Said Ami as she then quickly pulled ahead of me, having grown tired of my silent treatment. However, as she slipped by, I couldn't resist quickly reaching over and flipping-up the back of her skirt, just enough to see that she had a panda on the back of her panties, my fingers never touching her ass, yet I could feel the warmth underneath.
-Nice bear behind you got there! So I said
She froze in mid step, and looked as if she was going to turn around, but instead she shuttered as if a tingling electric shock had gone all through her body. I then noticed that the back of her neck to the roots of her hair had turned a lobster red! Though whether that was because of embarrassment or anger or both I'm not sure. In any case, Ami's hands became tight fists, and then with a growl like a tigress she quickly stomped off. I have actually heard a growl like that since that time. It's the sound of a female Nepali snow leopard, in heat, just before it pounces on a potential mate. — Andrew James Pritchard

His knees locked and he pushed his weight against Mr. Jones's hand. It wasn't the dim light coming through the skylights or the giant steel fan that waited to chop them up or the smell of urine or the dank-dungeon cells that lined both sides of the aisle that made Danny step back. It was a sense of panic, of fear, that saturated the atmosphere like an electrical current, tingling in his bowels. The boys ahead of him didn't seize up, but they stutter-stepped. Like the end of a ship's plank was dead ahead. Danny felt this type of fear spreading through his groin like cold fingers once before. A memory emerged in the soupy sea of memories inside his head. He remembered getting pulled out of the back seat of a car with his hands cuffed behind his back by someone. But then like everything he tried to remember, there were gaps. — Tony Bertauski

After soft kisses, they pressed their hands together palm to palm. The tingling scattered all over Livia's body, warming her.
"Do you feel that?" she whispered with a smile.
His lips moved in his silent count. Blake wrapped his fingers around her hand. She copied the movement. Their hands together now resembled a heart-not a cartoon rendering of the shape, but a real human heart.
He touched her lips with his and murmured, "I've been feeling it since you first smiled at me. — Debra Anastasia

We have to get government out of the job of picking winners and losers. That's what they've been doing the last year and a half, getting in the way of businesses that are trying to reinvest to get our economy back on its feet. — Kristi Noem

Oh, if Shakespeare says it, that's all right. — L. Frank Baum

It hardly mattered to him that [his] book was forgotten and that it served no use; and the question of its worth at any time seemed almost trivial ... He let his fingers riffle through the pages and felt a tingling, as if those pages were alive ... The fingers loosened, and the book they had held moved slowly and then swiftly across the still body and fell into the silence of the room. — John Edward Williams

A deep laugh stirred in his chest, and his thumb brushed over the backs of her fingers before he withdrew his hand. She felt the rasp of a callus on his thumb, the sensation not unlike the tingling scrape of a cat's tongue. Bemused by her own response to him, Annabelle looked down at the chess piece in her hand.
"That is the queen - the most powerful piece on the board. She can move in any direction, and go as far as she wishes." There was nothing overtly suggestive in his manner of speaking ... but when he spoke softly, as he was doing at that moment, there was a husky depth in his voice that made her toes curl inside her slippers.
"More powerful than the king?" she asked.
"Yes. The king can only move one square at a time. But the king is the most important piece."
"Why is he more important than the queen if he's not the most powerful?"
"Because once he is captured, the game is over. — Lisa Kleypas