Tip Me Quotes & Sayings

Peeta smiles at me, sad and mocking. Okay. Thanks for the tip, sweetheart. — Suzanne Collins

I've got a tip." "Me, too. Let a smile be your umbrella and you're gonna get your dumb ass wet. — J.D. Robb

I look to the right as I cross the bridge and smile to see the tip of the Eiffel Tower soaring over rooftops in the distance on the other side of the river. I've seen it in photographs a thousand times, but seeing it in person for the first time that reminds me that I'm really, truly here, thousands of miles away, across an ocean from home. — Kristin Harmel

Pressing his lips firmly to mine, he starts to kiss me in the most erotic way. First, he lightly kisses me, then opens our mouths together and exhales. I can only inhale his sweet breath. He runs the tip of his tongue over my lower lip before slipping it into my mouth and firmly pressing his lips to mine. I'm left breathless as the kiss ends and he takes my hand. — Kim Karr

I don't know why, but nobody undoes me like you. You want to know why I ran from you for a month? That. That right there." He traced the tip of his nose along Elijah's. "I'm done running. — Heidi Cullinan

RANGER HAD BEEN Special Forces, and he still had the build and the carriage. He was standing close, forcing me to tip my head back ever so slightly to look into his eyes. — Janet Evanovich

I had long ago learned to ignore things I could not resolve. Whenever I was faced with such choices, something always occured to tip the scales one way or another and relieve me of the decision.
I watched the skies for portents from the Gods. — W.A. Hoffman

Kissing with the tip of the tongue is like ice-cream melting. It was he who taught me that a kiss has a soul and colour of its own. — Zhou Weihui

Serenity barely heard the last of his words as he made his way out of the cabin. Instead, her attention was on the quick, clean strokes of Morgan's writing. It amazed her that a pirate would be literate. Especially one sold so young to the sea.
She broke the seal.
I feel like a weed in the midst of Winter. 'Tis the sunshine of your smile that will bring back the Spring of my days. We arrive in four days. I hope you will grace me again with your presence.
Yours,
Morgan
She traced the flowing letters with the tip of her finger and couldn't suppress a smile. A poetic pirate no less. Who would have thought? — Kinley MacGregor

She stood on her tip toes to try and reach his eye level. "So are you asking me out on a date, Bruno? — Meg Knight

If people are asking me for clubbing tips, then they're in real trouble. My clubbing tip is never go to a club, because they're horrible and I hate them. I'm more of a dinner party guy. — Simon Bird

Kicking off my shoes, I climed in beside him.
I eased toward him. His body radiated heat in the bed. I relaxed, inching closer, burrowing the tip of my nose against his back, savoring the clean smell of his skin, fresh from the shower.
His voice rumled through his back toward me. "Hey, your nose is cold."
I grinned ahainst his skin. "How about my feet?" I wedged them between his calves.
He hissed. "Get some socks on, woman. — Sophie Jordan

Tipping confounds me because it is not a reward but a travel tax, one of the many, one of the more insulting. No one is spared. It does not matter that you are paying thousands to stay in the presidential suite in the best hotel: the uniformed man seeing you to the elevator, inquiring about your trip, giving you a weather report, and carrying your bags to the suite expects money for this unasked-for attention. Out front, the doorman, gasconading in gold braid, wants a tip for snatching open a cab door, the bartender wants a proportion of your bill, so does the waiter, and chambermaids sometimes leave unambiguous messages, with an accompanying envelope, demanding cash. It is bad enough that people expect something extra for just doing their jobs; it is an even more dismal thought that every smile has a price. — Paul Theroux

In 1999, I just came out of putting out the song 'Vivrant Thing' and 'Breathe and Stop' off the 'Amplified' album. Clive Davis signed me to Arista. — Q-Tip

Every time he looked at me I felt like I'd touched my tongue to the tip of a battery. In art class I'd watch him lean back and listen and I was nothing but zing and tingle. After a while, the tingle turned to electricity, and when he asked me out my whole body amped to a level where technically I should have been dead. I had nothing in common with a sheddy like him, but a girl doesn't think straight when she's that close to electrocution. — Cath Crowley

Here's a tip though', he told me, leaning over and pressing a hand into my shoulder. 'If you want to improve your time, run faster. — John Boyne

Perhaps of all our untamed quadrupeds, the fox has obtained the widest and most familiar reputation ... His recent tracks still give variety to a winter's walk. I tread in the steps of the fox that has gone before me by some hours, or which perhaps I have started, with such a tip-toe of expectation as if I were on the trail of the Spirit itself which resides in the wood, and expected soon to catch it in its lair. — Henry David Thoreau

Now I proudly call myself a feminist. If Tip O'Neill were alive today, I might even tell him that I'm a pom-pom girl for feminism. I hope more women, and men, will join me in accepting this distinguished label. Currently, only 24 percent of women in the United States say that they consider themselves feminists. Yet when offered a more specific definition of feminism - "A feminist is someone who believes in social, political, and economic equality of the sexes" - the percentage of women who agree rises to 65 percent.16 That's a big move in the right direction. — Sheryl Sandberg

I didn't even think, just went with instinct. Opening my arms, I felt the tiny life placed there. Wrapping him close and tight to my chest, I felt my heart swelling with love. So small, so delicate. Using the tip of my finger, I traced his face, his little lips, his chin and cheeks, his eyes. "You're right, Tea, he is beautiful."

"He has your eyes," she whispered. "We still need to name him."

"Christian Simon Doyle. After your dad and your idiot friend."

Her voice sounded raw when she spoke again. "That's perfect."

"You're perfect. Thank you, Tea, thank you for my son, for our life, thank you for not giving up on me. — L.A. Fiore

You had your heart broken much?"
He paused. "Of course. Everyone does. Part of life."
"Tell me her name. I'll kick her ass. I don't want anyone hurting you."
He rested his face against my hair, his tone even and gentle when he spoke. "You're wondrous and powerful and gifted, but even you can't save me from hurting. No one can do that for anyone. I can make things perfect in the fictions I create, but the real world isn't so kind. That's just how it is. And anyway, for every bad thing in life, there are more good things to tip the balance."
"Like what?"
"Like little blonde nieces. And royalty checks. And you. — Richelle Mead

Yes, life is weird, but I embrace the weird. Let everyone else go marching off into their great shining futures if they want. Me, I've always been more than content to tip my whisky bottle and take a ride straight into the heart of the spectacular now. — Tim Tharp

My biggest tip is this ... treat bread like chocolate. You wouldn't have a chocolate bar in the morning and then a double chocolate bar at lunch and then some chocolate before dinner. I was essentially eating a loaf of bread a day. And that doesn't work for me. — James Corden

Are you a good human being, Gerry? I mean good in the sense that if you put everything in the scales, they'd tip that way?" It startled her. "I don't know. I haven't thought of myself that way. I think I like the lush life a little too much. That's why I married George. I'm vain. I like men to admire me. I've got a coarse streak that comes out at the wrong times. But I do try to live up to ... some kind of a better image of myself. And I try to improve. I came from nothing, Trav, from a little raggedy-ass spread in the Panhandle with too many kids and too few rooms. — John D. MacDonald

My stand-up has always been very character-based. I'm not really the kind of person that's like, 'Hey, here's what's on my mind! Tip your waitress!' I would create the jokes based on the character I was playing. It was always a performance-based thing for me. — Mary Lynn Rajskub

He continued his call, but his answers shortened to single words - yes, no, fine - as I wrapped my hands around the base and lowered my head to run my tongue from root to tip before going in whole hog and deep throating him for the win.

I was in a go-big-or-go-home mood.

His choked-out, "Fuck. No, excuse me. Sorry. Wasn't talking to you," had me humming a little giggle around his cock. — Meghan March

Yeah, me and Q-Tip is cool outside of the business, but you know, within the business sometimes it can get ugly, you know what I mean? — Phife Dawg

Lesa's eyes flicked up behind me and widened. "Wow. Now that's even more unexpected."
Something smelled sweet and familiar. Confused, I twisted around. A single rose in full bloom, a vibrant red, brushed against the tip of my nose. Tan fingers held the green stem. My eyes lifted.
Daemon stood there, his eyes glittering like green tinsel. He patted me on the nose with the rose again. "Good morning."
Dumbfounded, I stared at him.
"This is for you," he added when I didn't say anything. — Jennifer L. Armentrout

The pirates would kiss Hayden, and sometimes they would cut off a hank of hair - 'as a reminder of yer kisses, me lad' - and one of them even cut off a piece of his earlobe.
This particular pirate was Bill McGregor, and he was the one Hayden feared the most. Bill McGregor was the worst of them - and at night when everyone else was asleep, Bill McGregor would come looking for Hayden, his step slow and hollow on the planks of the deck, his voice a deep whisper.
Boy,' he would murmur. 'where are you, boy?'
After Bill McGregor cut off the piece of Hayden's earlobe, he decided that he wanted more. Every time he caught Hayden, he would cut a small piece off of him. The skin of an elbow, the tip of a finger, a piece of his lip. He would grip the squirming Hayden and cut a piece off of him, and then Bill McGregor would eat the piece of flesh. — Dan Chaon

I met a keen observer who gave me a tip: 'If you run across a restaurant where you often see priests eating with priests, or sporting girls with sporting girls, you may be confident that it is good. Those are two classes of people who like to eat well and get their money's worth.' — A.J. Liebling

But as much as Greyson's overly warm body had to be worked around and compensated for in summer, at that moment she was eternally and ridiculously grateful for it. She almost thought she heard her own skin sizzle when it came into contact with his: some of the cramping in her muscles relaxed.
Only to tense up again when she saw, through her half-closed eyes, Greyson's second gaurd and Malleus's brother, Maleficarum, advancing on her with a hypodermic needle. Something clear squirted ominously from it's sharp silver tip.
"Oh, no," she managed, "You are not giving me a shot."
"'Sonly under the skin, m'lady. You'll barely even feel it, honest." Maleficarum's features did no do "innocent" well: he looked like a serial killer trying to hide a severed head behind his back. — Stacia Kane

I do love you." He said it suddenly, raising his head so his black eyes could meet her startled green ones. "I mean it, Shea. I do not just need you, I love you. I know everything about you, I have been in your head, shared your memories, shared your dreams and your ideas. I know you think I need you and that is why I am with you, but it is much more than that. I love you." He grinned unexpectedly, traced her lower lip with the tip of a finger. "What is more, I know you love me. You hide it from yourself, but I found it in a little corner, tucked away in your mind." Shea — Christine Feehan

Your world is so different from mine. Do you guys have anything in common with humans?"
He looks at me with those killer eyes in that perfect face over his Adonis body. "Nothing we'll admit to."
"There's no way around it, is there?" I ask. "We're mortal enemies and I should be trying to kill you and everyone like you."
He leans over, touches the tip of his forehead to mine, and closes his eyes. "Yes." His gentle breath caresses my lips as he says the word.
I close my eyes too, and try to focus on the warmth of his forehead resting on mine. — Susan Ee

I remember being infuriated from the top of my head to the tip of my toes the first time a screen was put around Bob Carter and me on a train leaving Washington in the 1940s. — Constance Baker Motley

The victims I've worked with taught me that individuals want to believe they are entitled to justice. My community taught me that when the choice is clear-cut enough, so do entire counties.

We have become profoundly discouraged about whether we have such choices. My own experience is that we do, if we are willing to pay the price. We need better data to make decisions based on performance, but getting that data is a matter of passing the right laws requiring crunchable statistics and mandatory public reports. The rest is on us. If Tip O'Neil was right, if all politics is local, then our local district attorneys are the place to start. Crime is local. What we do about it is as close as the nearest voting booth. — Alice Vachss

They always lost but he didn't blame me because to a gambler, a bad tip is better than no tip at all. — Phil Silvers

I felt bad for Lulu because I've been Lulu. It's really hard when you realize the guy you've been dating is basically a high schooler at heart. It make you feel like Mary Kay Letourneau. It's the worst.
Until I was thirty, I only dated boys, as far as I can tell. I'll tell you why. Men scared the shit out of me.
Men know what they want. Men make concrete plans. Men own alarm clocks. Men sleep on a mattress that isn't on the floor. Men tip generously. Men buy new shampoo instead of adding water to a nearly empty bottle of shampoo. Men go to the dentist. Men make reservations. Men go in for a kiss without giving you some long preamble about how they're thinking of kissing you. — Mindy Kaling

The world I'd known had shattered around me in an instant, and now everything seemed so surreal. People went on doing exactly what they'd done before while I tip-toed through this new reality. — Katie Ashley

The city was new again, and newly dangerous, and I would walk the streets quickly, eyes averted from those of passersby, like a spy in the employ of lust and happiness, carrying the secret deep within me but always on the tip of my tongue. — Michael Chabon

My fans saw 'Roll Bounce,' but also that older crowd who might not have been familiar with me on the music tip saw 'Roll Bounce' and loved it. 'Roll Bounce' opened up that door for me to have older people love Bow Wow and opened up that door so all of the kids would love Bow Wow. My fan base is really diverse; it's all ages and all colors. — Bow Wow

Style is innate to who I am. My father gave me a picture the other day. I must have been about seven, and I had on wing-tip shoes and some cool pants. I thought, 'Wow!' — Dylan McDermott

You taste so sweet." The whispered words sent a shiver down her spine. Somehow, whenever she had imagined this intimacy with a man, she had thought of darkness and urgency and groping. She had not expected firelight and heat and this patient courting of her body. Jack's lips wandered in a velvet path from her throat to the sensitive opening of her ear, played lightly, and then Amanda jerked in surprise as she felt the tip of his tongue stroke along a tiny inner crevice.
"Jack," she whispered. "You don't have to play the lover for me. Truly... you are kind to pretend that I'm desirable, and you-"
She felt him smile against her ear. "You are an innocent, mhuirnin, if you think that a man's body reacts this way out of kindness. — Lisa Kleypas

He lifted my foot and placed a kiss on the tip of my big toe. That toe had never been kissed in its life. I wondered if it was smart enough to know what had just happened. Would it lord it over the other toes now that it had been singled out and kissed by Frank Wells, or was it just a fucking toe and didn't know what the hell was going on? Like me. — John Inman

Certainly I feel like I'm the tip of the arrow at times because certainly the national media wants to talk about the fact that I'm a black Republican and some people think of that as zany that a black person would be a conservative but to me what is zany is any person black, white, red, brown or yellow not being a conservative. — Tim Scott

When I thought I felt better, grief shot its silver tip arrow at my heart to remind me that it was still there."
Excerpt From: Holster, S.G. "Thirty Seconds to Die." iBooks.
This material may be protected by copyright.
Check out this book on the iBooks Store — S.G. Holster

I heard Q-Tip on the Jungle Brothers' song 'The Promo.' It was very exciting. It was very new. The music and the culture around hip-hop was evolving. I think there's an emotional quality to their music and there's a vulnerability to the music. For me, A Tribe Called Quest was my Beatles. — Michael Rapaport

Grinning at me, Kellan leaned down to kiss my cheek. "Thanks," he muttered in my ear as he stole my beer from my fingers.
I glared at him as I watched him tip it back. "Just so you know, I totally backwashed."
Kellan paused mid-gulp, then shrugged. Smiling wide once he was finished, he husked, "That's all right ... I like your fluids. — S.C. Stephens

I liked the way he cradled my cheeks in his hands as we kissed.
He pressed his body closer to mine. I moved backward until my butt touched something cold. He'd backed me into the cooler. The thought repulsed me for a second and I tried to shove him away.
"Kiss me back," he whispered, and I responded, all thoughts of where we were flying out of my brain. I wriggled closer and touched my lips to his once again. His hands tangled in my hair and the tip of his tongue met mine. — Marlene Perez

I was staying in a hotel in San Francisco for a couple of nights, before flying back to the UK. My hotel was a desperate grey block made from paper and people's screams. At night the sound of strangers having icy sex echoed off the building and poured through the broken air conditioning, like tiny daggers I couldn't see, reminding me of just the tip of what I was missing. — Craig Stone

This is for watching my fights and rooting for me," he murmured, pressing a soft kiss to her forehead. "And this is for being brave and accepting my dare." He pressed a second kiss on the tip of her nose. "And this is for dumping that dickhead Marty." The next kiss landed on the corner of her mouth, and she parted her lips on a sigh. His heart hammered so loudly, he wondered if she heard it.

"And this one? This one is because I want you so bad, it's making me question my sanity. — Christine Bell

You own me with whispers like poetry.
Your mouth is a melody I memorize. — The Civil Wars

It did not occur to me to call a doctor, because I knew none, and although it did occur to me to call the desk and ask that the air conditioner be turned off, I never called, because I did not know how much to tip whoever might come - was anyone ever so young? — Joan Didion

Yet I never sought what is real, yearned for the real, but rather I have yearned for dreams more than solid things. I can say I love the textures of dreams. The way they hover and almost taste. The clouds and darkness that linger behind, mostly unseen. And the palette of dreams. You can almost taste the colours, they seem as words on the tip of the tongue, unsayable as pomegranate seeds, unsayable as thick cream, the darkness of such a thick cream. This is why I am obsessed with dreams. They know what we cannot. Night after night they try and tell us the impossible. Dreams are secret and closed, and also contain everything, gushing, splayed open. Dream suitcases, carpetbags, hold-alls. They influence us secretly and they draw me to travel to nowhere, to beauty's passage, through halls of mirrors where I know I am not myself, I know I am sublime. — Shawna Lemay

Shorty, let me tell you about my only vice:
It has to do with lots of lovin', and it ain't nuttin' nice. — Q-Tip

Luce. We fight. I'm used to that. Sure, that fight was the scariest ass one we've ever had, but you're here now. That's all that matters. No matter how many fights we have, or how much they tip the Richter scale, none of it matters as long as at the end of the day, you're still with me. — Nicole Williams

Philip stood with the tip of a sword pressed into Mr. Beaufort's throat. I saw another sword on the floor. Neither gentleman looked toward the door. Philip looked perfectly in control, his sword bending the skin of Mr. Beaufort's neck without piercing it. When he spoke, though, his voice sounded so fierce I hardly recognized it. "Tell me what you did to her."
"I made sure you wouldn't want her anymore."
"I will always want her," Philip said in a quiet, furious voice. "Always! There is nothing you could do to change that."
Mr. Beaufort sneered. "Then why do you want to know?"
"Because I would never make her say the words. And because I want to know how much I should enjoy running you through. — Julianne Donaldson

Fine." My fingers felt cold and clumsy as I fumbled to untie the straps that held my sword to the side of the pack. Suddenly I felt something harshly cold against my neck. I turned my head in slow motion and looked up the length of a very sharp blade.
"Lovely." Kieran's voice dripped with sarcasm. "I'm sure an enemy would have too much honor to attack you until you're ready. That must be why you're completely unprotected and paying no attention whatsoever." He glared at me for a long punishing moment. Then he eased the sword back and inch. "Lesson one. Stay on guard." Reaching past me, he flicked the tip of his sword and easily sliced the ties on my pack. — Sharon Hinck

DON'T ABUSE ME, I've never flown one of these things before." Richard Reiss put the tip of his tongue between his teeth and squinted at the controls. While he did this, building blocks, tree limbs, and swirling leaves scudded past the plastic windscreen. Chaison stared at the ambassador. "Richard, why are you dressed as a clown?" Ballooning pantaloons and a polka-dotted top spilled out around the edges of Reiss's seat; he had red smudges on his cheeks that he'd obviously been trying to rub off. The ambassador turned with great dignity, fixed Chaison with a steely eye and said, "It is a very long story, and one I find I would rather not relate. — Karl Schroeder

Why do I care about all the wrong things, and nothing at all for the right ones? Or, to tip it another way: how can I see so clearly that everything I love or care about is illusion, and yet - for me, anyway - all that's worth living for lies in that charm? — Donna Tartt

When we sat down in the plane, Clare took something out of her pocket and handed it to me. It looked like a tube of lipstick.
I frowned at her. 'Is this really the time to swap make-up?' I asked.
She grinned. 'It's a hand taser. My parents make me carry one.' She took the cap off and pointed to the metal edge. 'If someone attacks you, you press the tip against their skin and it shoots out a charge.'
I looked down at it. 'Does it last long?'
She shook her head. 'It's pretty harmless. Noah and Pat used to play taser tag around the house when I was growing up. — Katie Kacvinsky

Are you so very hungry?" asked Dorothy, in wonder. "You can hardly imagine the size of my appetite," replied the Tiger, sadly. "It seems to fill my whole body, from the end of my throat to the tip of my tail. I am very sure the appetite doesn't fit me, and is too large for the size of my body. Some day, when I meet a dentist with a pair of forceps, I'm going to have it pulled." "What, your tooth?" asked Dorothy. "No, my appetite," said the Hungry Tiger. — L. Frank Baum

The honeymoon phase was over. He still called me his girl, still held me like I meant everything and I really wanted to believe he was still completely here with me. I looked over his body and at his sleeping face. I slowly moved out of his bed, and tip toed to the bathroom where I fell to the tiled floor and sobbed. — Mercy Cortez

He kissed the tip of my finger, and I smiled at this. I would not be able to heal him, but he would not hate me for failing. That would be enough for both of us. — Jason Heller

Your female, huh?" The Shifter bravely looked up. "Is your cock so small that you can't get your own women to--

Logan slapped a hand across his mouth and leaned in, nose to nose--giving the man a good look at the darkness pulsing in his eyes. "There are no laws against what we do, only opinions. Your opinion doesn't matter to me, but disrespecting this female does. Tip your head to her once more and I'll place my jacket on the back of that chair and we'll take a walk where Breed rules don't apply. Care to discuss your opinions on this matter any further?" Logan's nose wrinkle, drawing in a scent. The man backed down in defeat. Obviously not an alpha Shifter, just a jackass.

Logan's eyes slanted, as if watching me in his peripheral. "For the record, my cock can only be measured in decibels from the screams of the females it pleasures. — Dannika Dark

That waitress was flirting with me," Dad announced once we were out of the restaurant. He said it in his "whispering voice," which meant it was still loud enough for the waitress, all of her coworkers, and the shoppers at every other store in the mall to overhear.
"Ew," I said. "She was not."
Dad chuckled with delight over how hot and eligible he imagined himself to be. "She kept coming over to 'try to collect my plate' ... "
"Because that is her job," I reminded him.
"And the way she looked at your mother? Pure jealousy!" Dad slipped his arm around Mom's waist. "Poor thing. I left her a big tip. — Leila Sales

Suddenly the dressing-room of La Sorelli, one of the principal dancers, was invaded by half-a-dozen young ladies of the ballet, who had come up from the stage after "dancing" Polyeucte. They rushed in amid great confusion, some giving vent to forced and unnatural laughter, others to cries of terror. Sorelli, who wished to be alone for a moment to "run through" the speech which she was to make to the resigning managers, looked around angrily at the mad and tumultuous crowd. It was little Jammes - the girl with the tip-tilted nose, the forget-me-not eyes, the rose-red cheeks and the lily-white neck and shoulders - who gave the explanation in a trembling voice:

"It's the ghost!" And she locked the door.

- Chapter 1: Is it the Ghost? — Gaston Leroux

He sat up straight, eyes wide, and touched the tip of his index finger to his cheek. "What was that?"
I blushed. "A kiss."
"That's what a kiss feels like?"
"Well, technically. There are a lot of different types of - "
"Show me."
"Show you what?"
"Show me some other kinds."
"You're asking me to kiss you?"
(Dez and Kale) — Jus Accardo

So concisely, musically we are the herb
So sit back and light me.
Inhale ...
My style's kinda fat, reminiscent of a whale. — Q-Tip

Mace Brown calmly walked over, put his arm on Carlton's shoulder, and looked into his filthy, sweat-streaked face. 'Son, I want to tell you something my daddy told me a long time ago,' he drawled. 'If you hadn't wanted to work, you oughtn't have hired out.' The words struck Carlton like a foul tip off the face mask. It sounded like one of the most profound statements of truth and essence he had ever heard. — Doug Wilson

I could feel myself begin to recede, to tip and lose balance, slide toward the deeper darkness that had crept in from outside. It happened so quickly and took me by surprise; sometimes I just turned around and found it there-ah, camarade-unaware it had been waiting for me for days. — Bryan Mealer

Someone asked me what home was, and all I could think of were the stars on the tip of your tongue, the flowers sprouting from your mouth, the roots entwined in the gaps between your fingers, the ocean echoing inside of your rib cage. — E. E. Cummings

I'm a role model now ... I want to be a better person because I don't want to disappoint those girls. I stop and think about my actions more. I tip great, I try not to swear too much, and I remember to thank people and be grateful. And all that stuff I do to appear' better has actually made me a better person. I wish I had always acted like I was a little bit famous. — Mindy Kaling

Alex!" Brittany yells my name from the front of the gallery.
I'm still smoking and trying to forget that she brought me here because I'm her dirty little secret. I don't want to be a fucking secret anymore.
My pseudo-girlfriend crosses the street. Her designer shoes click on the pavement, reminding me she's a class above. She eyes Mandy and me, the two blue collars, smoking together.
"Mandy here was about to show me her tattoos," I tell Brittany to piss her off.
"I'll bet she was. Were you going to show her yours, too?" She eyes me accusingly.
"I'm not into drama," Mandy says. She throws down her cigarette and smashes it with the tip of her gym shoe. "Good luck, you two. God knows you need it. — Simone Elkeles

Without any wind blowing, the sheer weight of a raindrop, shining in parasitic luxury on a cordate leaf, caused its tip to dip, and what looked like a globule of quicksilver performed a sudden glissando down the centre vein, and then, having shed its bright load, the relieved leaf unbent. Tip, leaf, dip, relief - the instant it all took to happen seemed to me not so much a fraction of time as a fissure in it, a missed heartbeat, which was refunded at once by a patter of rhymes: I say 'patter' intentionally, for when a gust of wind did come, the trees would briskly start to drip all together in as crude an imitation of the recent downpour as the stanza I was already muttering resembled the shock of wonder I had experienced when for a moment heart and leaf had been one. — Vladimir Nabokov

I tip my hat to the new constitution, I take a bow for the new revolution, smile and grin at the change all around me. — The Who

She was rumpled, undone, her hair coming out of its elastic to curl in tendrils around her face. There was something I had to say to her, I thought, something necessary, something right at the tip of my tongue.
I guess she knew it before I did.
Leaning over, she smoothed my hair back from my forehead. I closed my eyes at her touch. And so it was a surprise when she kissed me on the lips. — Brittany Cavallaro

Do me a favor," he whispers, curling my fingers over the back of his and bringing them to his mouth. "What?" His eyes never leave mine as he brushes his lips over my knuckles. "Dream of me tonight," he says softly. He watches me, waiting for a response. I have no words, so I simply nod. He doesn't need to know that no one else occupies my dreams. No one. "Dream of my lips, teasing you." Straightening one of my fingers, he kisses the tip. His voice is like velvet and his words are like an aphrodisiac. "Dream of my tongue, tasting you." His tongue sneaks out to flick the end of my finger. A surge of desire rocks my core. "And I'll dream of you. Of what it feels like to be inside your warm, wet body. — M. Leighton

Just the tip, sweetheart." He nudges against me, slipping along my wetness, as I whimper. His voice goes dark. "Just for a second. — Kristen Callihan

We'll meet and click and sit up all night and everything will tip out of me and into him and the other way around and while we're tipping the night will fade and the world will get pink and in that pinkness he'll kiss me. — Cath Crowley

A moment later the wizard was standing over him, shouting, "Tell it that if it singes me I'll let the sword go! I will! I'll let it go! So tell it!" The tip of the black sword was hovering over K!sdra's throat. What was odd was that the wizard was obviously struggling with it, and it appeared to be singing to itself. — Terry Pratchett

I want you to make love to me, Eros," he whispers in the darkness of the bedroom. "Now. Tomorrow. Always."

I kiss the tip of my finger and place it over his lips to stop him from saying more. I can't listen to him use words like always, or even tomorrow. As bad as I ache at the thought of watching him walk away from me, I know there is no tomorrow for the two of us, regardless of what happens with him and Kathleen.

"Ssh. Let's just enjoy tonight, okay? — Candi Kay

You have to take this with you too," she said, opening a box and holding up a silver necklace with the Syriac cross (a crucifix with a budding flower shape on each tip) dangling from it. "My mother gave it to me mother, who passed it to me. Now is the right time to give it to you. Not just because you're leaving and will need something that always connects you to your roots, but also because tonight we remember her. — Zack Love

I love you," Colt declared against Jace's lips.
"I love you, too." Jace made Colt smile.
"Thank you for taking me back." Colt
kissed the tip of Jace's nose.
"Thank you for finding me," Jace mumbled into the pillow on a deep yawn. "I need to sleep.Be here when I wake up."
"I'm here for as long as you want me. I promise I'll be here when you wake, Jace," he whispered and pressed a kiss to Jace's furrowed brow."Every day ... for the rest of our lives. — Kindle Alexander

I touch the tip of my finger to his lips. "There are secrets in here," I say. "I want them out."
He tries to bite my finger.
I steal it back. — Tahereh Mafi

Sean pushes up to his feet and stands there. I look at his dirty boots. Now I've offended him, I think. He says, "Other people have never been important to me, Kate Connolly. Puck Connolly." I tip my face up to look at him, finally. The blanket falls off my shoulders, and my hat, too, loosened by the wind. I can't read his expression
his narrow eyes make it difficult. I say, "And now?" Kendrick reaches to turn up the collar on his jacket. He doesn't smile, but he's not as close to frowning as usual. "Thanks for the cake. — Maggie Stiefvater

I don't like sewing machines. I don't understand how a needle with a thread going through the tip of it can interlock the thread by jamming itself into a little goddamn spool. It's contrary to nature and it irritates me. — Neal Stephenson

Surprise jolted through me. He only called me Ryan when he was taunting me. And right now he was taunting me about sucking his dick. Jesus. My bravado faltered, just for a second. Until I saw his pulse hammering in the hollow of his throat, and realized he was as nervous and excited as I was. I took a breath and lowered my head. Then I closed my mouth over his swollen tip and sucked. Jamie's hips snapped up instantly, his breath leaving his throat on a ragged shudder. "Oh Jesus. — Sarina Bowen

I only inched the tip in, but dammit to fucking hell if you milking the head of my cock doesn't have me wanting to blow my load. Do not fucking move your tight pussy one tenth of a centimeter until I can stop myself. Fuck! — Charisse Spiers

I tell a little bit of my life to them, and they tell a little of theirs to me. The picture itself is just the tip of the iceberg. — Sebastiao Salgado

I was not in the bathroom, in the tub, or in the spigot; I did not hold court in the mirror above her head or stand in miniature at the tip of every bristle on Lindsey's or Buckley's toothbrush. In some way I could not account for- had they reached a state of bliss? were my parents back together forever? had Buckley begun to tell someone his troubles? would my father's heart truly heal?- I was done yearning for them, needing them to yearn for me. Though I still would. Though they still would. Always. — Alice Sebold

She casts her eyes to the floor and nods slowly. I reach forward, instinctively and tip her chin up to face me. "I'm sure she's very pretty." I tell her.

Inside, I'm not sure of any such thing. In my mind, the woman flies around on a broom, has pet monkeys and is deathly afraid of water. — Lori L. Clark

Breathless, I gazed into his eyes. "I love you Ollie. No matter what happens, never forget that. I will always love you. You have a piece of my heart
forever."
Beaming at me the tip of his nose touched mine as his forehead rested against my own. "I love you too Layla. You've had my heart since the
moment you looked up at me from the hallway floor. You always will. — Marie Coulson

A milky pearl appeared at the tip of the fat mushroomed head and I licked my lips in anticipation. His groan pulled my attention to his face where he had his head tilted, staring down at me intently. His voice was shaky, almost hoarse as he spoke. "Lick it, Landon. I want you to learn what I taste like. — Annabella Michaels

Anna, baby, you would never be the girl I didn't see, whether we had met now or in high school." He pulls me in close, rubbing his nose along the tip of mine. "Don't you understand? I know you wouldn't be because, since the moment I laid eyes on you, you're all I can see. — Kristen Callihan

This book is dedicated to Sweet Loretta Modern. It's also dedicated to all the Jerichoholics who have stood behind me through all of the trials and tribulations over the last twenty years.If I were wearing a hat, I would tip it all to you. — Chris Jericho

I played six to 10 hours a day, every day, 90 days during the summer, and I'd do incredible things. I would dribble blindfolded in the house. I would take my basketball to bed with me, I'd lay there after my mother kissed and tucked me in, and I'd shoot the ball up in the air and say, 'Finger tip control, backspin, follow through. — Pete Maravich

Well, well. Lucinda Hutton. One flexible little gal." He is reclining in his chair again. Both feet are flat on the floor and they point at me like revolvers in a Wild West shootout.

"HR," I clip at him. I'm losing this game and he knows it. Calling HR is virtually like tapping out. He picks up the pencil and presses the sharpened tip against the pad of his thumb. If a human could grin without moving their face, he just did it. — Sally Thorne

Don't kill me - you fucking cunt.
Hot tip. If you're trying to get someone to not kill you, avoid calling him a fucking cunt. — Glen Duncan

As he moves through his day, sometimes he stops and just stares at me. There is something on the tip of his tongue. But he doesn't say it. I'm not sure he knows what it is. — Melissa Seligman

I can cite numerous sponsors at different places in my career that made a huge difference for me just in terms of pulling me aside and giving me a tip or some coaching, or just watching what I was doing and not being afraid to tell me the truth about it. — Denise Morrison

He tried to pull me against him, and I bit him on the lip.
He licked his lip with the tip of his tongue. 'Did you just bite me? — Becca Fitzpatrick