Tucking Quotes & Sayings

I gladly shucked off my wet, muddy jeans and put on the new pair. I noticed she hadn't bought me any underwear; Granuaile either didn't think of it or she did think of it and decided that I should go commando.
I tore open the package of undershirts and gingerly pulled a black one over my head before tucking it into my jeans. Though I was now dressed in similar fashion to Coyote, I figured he could keep the cowboy hat and I'd rock the tattoos.
Granuaile gave me a good once-over and her gaze felt less than innocent, but all she said was, Much better. — Kevin Hearne

he had developed a system that enabled him to sleep in clean sheets every night without the trouble of bed changing. He'd been proposing the system to Sarah for years, but she was so set in her ways. What he did was strip the mattress of all linens, replacing them with a giant sort of envelope made from one of the seven sheets he had folded and stitched together on the sewing machine. He thought of this invention as a Macon Leary Body Bag. A body bag required no tucking in, was unmussable, easily changeable, and the perfect weight for summer nights. In winter he would have to devise something warmer, but he couldn't think of winter yet. He was barely making it from one day to the next as it was. At moments - while he was skidding — Anne Tyler

All right," Shannen says slowly, tucking a lock of dark brown hair behind her ear. "Why did you glue that dolphin upside down?"
Okay, so I'm a little distracted. "He's doing the back stroke. — Tera Lynn Childs

I like things that make you grit your teeth. I like tucking my chin in and sort of leading into the storm. I like that feeling. I like it a lot. — Daniel Day-Lewis

When he reached the yard, he found Edward with Addie and her dog under a redwood tree. She was lying on her back with her slippers resting on the trunk. Edward's head was on her stomach, and the dog lay with its head on its paws. Her hair hung from its pins, and his eyes traced the silken strands looped on the grass. "My nymph," he said. She jerked to an upright position and began tucking her hair back into its proper position. Though she sprang to her feet, bits of mud and grass clung to her skirt as a reminder of the unladylike position in which he'd found her. His smile broadened. — Colleen Coble

When this is over," she said, tucking the watch into a fold of her cloak. "I want to be the one to slit his throat. — V.E Schwab

Mrs. Campbell once attempted to smuggle her pet Pekingese through customs by tucking him inside the upper part of her cape. "Everything was going splendidly," she later remarked, "until my bosom barked." — Mrs. Patrick Campbell

Of all the nonsense that twists the world, the concept of 'altruism' is the worst. People do what they want to do, every time. If it sometimes pains them to make a choice - if the choice turns out to look like a 'noble sacrifice' - you can be sure that it is in no wise nobler than the discomfort caused by greediness ... the unpleasant necessity of having to decide between two things both of which you would like to do when you can't do both. The ordinary bloke suffers that discomfort every day, every time he makes a choice between spending a buck on beer or tucking it away for his kids, between getting up when he's tired or spending the day in his warm bed and losing his job. No matter which he does he always chooses what seems to hurt least or pleasures most. The average chump spends his life harried by these small decisions. — Robert A. Heinlein

Ceony made her way down the hall, peeking briefly into her room. The bed had been remade, and she smiled. Emery's odd knack for tidiness had him folding and tucking blanket corners as though crafting a spell, and while he had demonstrated to Ceony how to properly make a bed, she'd never taken the time to mimic the art. She often kept the door to her room closed just so Emery wouldn't be tempted to rearrange her things, but with her out of the house, there was nothing to stop him.
He must be bored.
She passed her room and stuck her head into the library, but the paper magician wasn't there. The table and telegraph had both been moved to the right of the window, however. Terribly bored, then. — Charlie N. Holmberg

I can't promise that I'll be able to give you everything you deserve, Adelaide." He gazes deep into my eyes and his fingers skim my cheeks, tucking strand of black behind my ears. "But I can promise you that I'll try."
Yes. We both have issues.
And I know that if we want to overcome all of our issues the only way we'll be able to do it, is together. — Lauren Hammond

I can smell the smoke now. I can see tendrils of it comin' up between the cracks in the shrikin' floorboards. There she is, calmly taking down the framed examples of fine embroideries, samplers, and needlework from teh hallway wall and tucking them under her arm.
"Mistress! Come on! You've got to leave!"
She calmly turns and faces me. "Why?" she asks. "The British are coming?"
"Only one, Mistress," I say — L.A. Meyer

Tamani smiled softly and lifted a hand to her face, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear and letting his thumb rest on her cheek. 'Trust me, it's no picnic missing you. I wouldn't wish it on anyone. — Aprilynne Pike

His eyes were warm as he gazed at me. "I would do anything for you, don't ever forget that." Emil moved closer, gently tucking the rose behind my ear. The floral scent perfumed every breath I took as Emil brushed his thumb lightly over my lips. "Evie, I lost you once, I won't
lose you again. Even if it takes a thousand years to earn your trust and win you back, I'll do it. You're the only person in my life who matters.
You're the only person who ever has. I love you. Emil — Angela Corbett

There are a few moments in your life when you are truly and completely happy, and you remember to give thanks. Even as it happens you are nostalgic for the moment, you are tucking it away in your scrapbook. — David Benioff

What?" She burrowed closer, tucking her fingers against the collar of my shirt.
Throwing my arm around her waist, I took what felt like the first real breath in weeks. "If I had a Mogwai, I'd totally feed it after midnight. That Mohawk gremlin was a badass."
She laughed again, the sound tinkling inside me, and I felt about a thousand pounds lighter. "Why doesn't that surprise me?" she said. "You'd totally bond with the gremlin."
"What can I say? It's my sparkling personality. — Jennifer L. Armentrout

Reluctantly, I pulled out my necklace and showed it to them.
Samuel frowned. The little figure was stylized; I suppose he couldn't tell what it was at first.
"A dog?" asked Zee, staring at my necklace.
"A lamb," I said defensively, tucking it safely back under my shirt. "Because one of Christ's names is 'The Lamb of God.'"
Samuel's shoulders shook slightly. "I can see it now, Mercy holding a roomful of vampire at bay with her glowing sheep."
I gave his shoulder a hard push, aware of the heat climbing to my cheeks, but it didn't help. He sang in a soft taunting voice, "Mercy had a little lamb ... — Patricia Briggs

Before I took to the road, a friend tried to get me to go to a department store with him. He said it was to improve the place where I lived. He said," I want to know you are reading beneath this lamp. " This fellow was dying. He knew it and I did not. I think he was tucking me in. He was making sure all of his friends had the right lamps, the comfiest pillows, the softest sheets. He was tucking us all in for the night. — Amy Hempel

Remember everything and anything. Don't you go through a day without remembering something of it, and tucking that memory away like a treasure. Because it is. and memories are sweet doors, Cory. They're teachers and friends and disciplinarians. When you look at something don't just look. See it. Really, really see it. See it so when you write it down, somebody else can see it too. — Robert McCammon

Look!" piped Korbal Broach.
Bauchelain paused. "I see."
Tucking the mangled head under an arm, Korbal Broach walked to the steps, and up he went. — Steven Erikson

Saying my story makes me want to change it, make it sound pretty the way I do with the stories I tell the workers. I'd like it to have a beginning as grand as a ball and an ending in a whisper, like a mother tucking in a child for sleep. — Shannon Hale

Whatever her name was, she was pretty. She had a thick, careless braid of chestnut hair, a quick smile, and dark, merry eyes. She wore some kind of a fuzzy lavender pullover, and when she crossed her legs and lifted her guitar onto her lap, she had an interesting way of tucking the foot of the bottom leg back under her chair that made Hector feel melty. He looked away in self-preservation. — Lynne Rae Perkins

Zay shrugged one shoulder. "I wouldn't say it was entirely innocent. All that warm, wet water touching us everywhere. And the soap definitely had ulterior motives."
I wrapped the towel around me, tucking it tight at the top. "That career in comedy? Walk away now, Jones. — Devon Monk

I don't know how these couples do it, spend hours each night tucking their kids in, reading them books about misguided kittens or seals who wear uniforms, and then reread them if the child so orders. In my house, our parents put us to bed with two simple words: "Shut up." That was always the last thing we heard before our lights were turned off. Our artwork did not hang on the refrigerator or anywhere near it, because our parents recognized it for what it was: crap. They did not live in a child's house, we lived in theirs. — David Sedaris

Lately I've become so damned distracted that I can't make a decision about anything. I can't think clearly. I've got knots in my stomach, and constant pains in my chest, and whenever I see you talking to any man, or smiling at anyone, I go insane with jealousy. I can't live this way. I - " He broke off and stared at her incredulously. "Damn it, Evie, what is there for you to smile about?"
"Nothing," she said, hastily tucking the sudden smile back into the corners of her mouth. "It's just ... it sounds as if you're trying to say that you love me. — Lisa Kleypas

What's your name?" he asked, a boyish grin creeping across his face.
"Henley Brooks," I murmured, tucking my hair behind my ear.
"My name's Lucas."
"I know," I replied, regretting the words as soon as they left my mouth. His grin grew larger as he ran his fingers through his dark hair.
"No wonder you look so scared. — Teresa Mummert

I-I'm not making advances," she told him as she flattened herself against his chest. "You're just an available s-source of heat." "So you say," St. Vincent replied lazily, tucking the quilt more tightly around them both. "However, during the past quarter hour you've been fondling parts of my anatomy that no one's ever dared to touch before." "I v-very much doubt that." She burrowed even further into the depths of his coat, and added in a muffled voice, "You've probably been h-handled more than a hamper at Fortnum and Mason. — Lisa Kleypas

system that enabled him to sleep in clean sheets every night without the trouble of bed changing. He'd been proposing the system to Sarah for years, but she was so set in her ways. What he did was strip the mattress of all linens, replacing them with a giant sort of envelope made from one of the seven sheets he had folded and stitched together on the sewing machine. He thought of this invention as a Macon Leary Body Bag. A body bag required no tucking in, was unmussable, easily changeable, and the perfect weight for summer nights. — Anne Tyler

I stroked Eric's hair, tucking some behind his ear. His eyes on mine were intent, and I knew he was waiting for me to speak. "I wish," I said, "I could save orgasms in a jar for when i need them, because I think I had a few extra."
Eric's eyes widened, and all of a sudden he roared with laughter.
(Dead to the World) — Charlaine Harris

My mother did not want to go to America: this much I knew. I knew it by the way she became distracted and impatient with my sister, by the way she stopped tucking us into bed at night. I knew it from watching her feet, which began to shuffle after my father announced the move, as though they threw down invisible roots that needed to be pulled out with each step. — Catherine Chung

You can imagine me as a kid growing up in redneck Texas with ballet shoes, tucking the violin under my arm. I had to fight my way up. — Patrick Swayze

onto his side and pushed up into a sitting position, tucking his head between his knees. Sensed the instability of the world long before he opened his eyes, like its axis had been cut loose to teeter. His first deep breath — Blake Crouch

From the moment you're born, people start folding you into neat pieces and tucking you inside a box of their own design. No, it starts even before then, the moment the sonogram shows a faded blur. Blue for a boy, tractors and race-cars, big and strong and brave. Pink for a little princess, pretty and sweet. They dress you up in their own expectations, before you even have a chance to understand the constrictions of your fate. That box becomes so cosy and warm, you never really notice that you're bent double, fighting for room to breathe. I — Abigail Haas

But I'm feeling like I'm tucking some paper around in the hole you left. The wind still whistles in, but I'm not as cold. — Laura Anderson Kurk

Maybe you're sleepwalking. And sleeptexting. And sleepprimping."
"What's next?" I grumbled to myself. Things were getting more out of control by the minute.
"I don't know," she said, straightening up and tucking her phone into the waistband of her leggings. "Just don't start sleepfucking. — Karina Halle

Conservatives want to be your daddy, telling you what to do and what not to do. Liberals want to be your mommy, feeding you, tucking you in, and wiping your nose. Libertarians want to treat you as an adult. — David Boaz

I trace the box's lid where a gold ribbon binds it. With one tug, the bow poofs into a golden, glittering fall of letters that form a message in midair
Things I once hoped to give you:
1. A magical wedding ...
Choking back tears, I take out the ring and loop it onto the string alongside the diary's key at my neck, tucking it under my shirt to keep it safe.
A picnic basket sits at my feet beneath the bench. There's another ribbon, and when I untie it, more letters form a glimmering parade through the air:
2. Picnics at the lake with your mom and dad ...
I sniffle and make my way to the middle of the room, where reproductions of my mosaics float next to Sold signs. I tug a ribbon loose and free another message:
3. A lifetime of shared successes and laughter ... — A.G. Howard

Why does it feel as if I've barely closed my eyes?"
"Possibly because you just have, my insatiable young minx. I should have remembered what effect Archibald's company had on your tolerance for wine."
"It was not the wine that kept me awake, sir. It was the brandy."
He glanced up from tucking his shirttails into his breeches and grinned wolfishly. "Perhaps next time we should try drinking it out of glasses."
"Perverted and lustful,"she grumbled crossly. "That's what you are. And far too knowledgeable of things decent men and women would never dream of going in their most wicked fantasies."
"Is that a complaint? — Marsha Canham

A story about the Jack Spratts of medicine [was] told recently by Dr. Charles H. Best, co-discoverer of insulin. He had been invited to a conference of heart specialists in North America. On the eve of the meeting, out of respect for the fat-clogs-the-arteries theory, the delegates sat down to a special banquet served without fats. It was unpalatable but they all ate it as a duty. Next morning Best looked round the breakfast room and saw these same specialists - all in the 40-60 year old, coronary age group - happily tucking into eggs, bacon, buttered toast and coffee with cream. — Richard Mackarness

I love you," he says, still meeting Harry's eyes, "and it took me a while to get here, but I think that maybe I've always loved you. But you wanna know the other thing that I know for sure? Besides the fact that I love you?"
(...)
"I'm always going to love you," Louis says, tucking some of Harry's hair behind his ear. "No matter what. — Whoknows

Some of them are mech," said Zita, nimbly picking her high heels through the steaming pools of red goo and severed, wriggling limbs. She was splattered with blood and grinning as she came to them, but she frowned to see the utter bafflement on Rose's face. "Hey, snap out of it. Haven't you seen mech before?" She kicked a man's severed head, and Rose gasped when his face slid off, revealing a skull of gleaming silver metal.

Rose shook her head. "Mech are illegal. The government s-said they feared a robot war!" she insisted, turning to follow as Zita limped past her.

Zita laughed dryly, folding up her rifle and tucking it under her skirt. "Is it so hard to imagine your government lied? Governments tend to do that. — Ash Gray

A semicolon is where a writer can choose to end the sentence," she said, tucking a lock of brown hair behind her ear. "But they don't. The story goes on. It's a symbol of hope. To keep going." She smiled tremulously. "Sometimes I need that reminder. — Emma Scott

He was so worthy of being loved; I didn't want him to be alone. Something in my expression must have revealed what was on my mind. "No pity, Auntie. The winds do not always blow as the ship desires," he murmured, tucking me into my chair. "The winds do what I tell them to do." "And I plot my own course. — Deborah Harkness

In the evening, the summer haze hovers over the fields like a translucent amber blanket waiting to put the crops to bed, tucking them in sweetly before the chill of the night descends over all. The locusts buzz in the distance and the mosquitoes gather around the porch lights as we play cards and sip lemonade. It's muggy, but a comfortable kind of humid, like natures hug on your sun-kissed skin. — Sky Ashton

Wo wei ni xie de," he said, as he raised the violin to his left shoulder, tucking it under his chin. He had told her many violinists used a shoulder rest, but he did not: there was a slight mark on the side of his throat, like a permanent bruise, where the violin rested.
"You - made something for me?" Tessa asked.
"I wrote something for you," he corrected, with a smile, and began to play. — Cassandra Clare

Have you ever been anyone's?" I ask, a feathery whisper in the quiet bedroom. He lifts his head to mine, and I want him so bad I feel consumed inside, like he's already possessed my soul, and now my soul aches for him to possess my body. A powerful emotion tightens his features as he reaches out to cradle my cheek in his big hand, and there's an unexpected fierceness in his eyes, in his touch, as he cups me. "No. And you?" The calluses in his palm rasp on my skin, and I find myself tucking my cheek deeper into them. "I've never wanted to." "Neither have I." The moment is intimate. — Katy Evans

After,
you stood there tucking in your shirt,
watching me cry in devastation.
For you, I was nothing.
And I
was nothing. — C. Streetlights

My speech impediment had been absent for some time now - four months and six days. I'd almost imagined myself cured. So when Mother swept into the room all of a sudden - me, in a paroxysm of adjustment to my surroundings, and Binah, tucking my possessions here and there - and asked if my new quarters were to my liking, I was stunned by my inability to answer her. The door slammed in my throat, and the silence hung there. Mother looked at me and sighed. When she left, I willed my eyes to remain dry and turned away from Binah. I couldn't bear to hear one more Poor Miss Sarah. — Sue Monk Kidd

Hello! It could only have been Andre, but she replaced the receiver instantly, reaching for the tiny, crumpled scrap of paper and tucking it under her pillow as she dozed off again, struck by another dream at the edge of sleep, and clutching her head and her heart because she didn't know where all the blood was coming from. Nonetheless she kept repeating: It's nothing, it's nothing, nothing else can happen to me now. Something might happen to me, but nothing has to happen. — Ingeborg Bachmann

You deserve to be happy, Dylan."
"So do you."
"Good thing we've got each other then," she answers, tucking herself into my shoulder, and wrapping her arm around my back. — Dannielle Wicks

Honestly, as much as I love my brother, I'm not sure how I feel about him hanging out in your bedroom." He reached out with a muscular arm and used his fingers to brush a few strands of hair off my cheek, tucking them behind my ear. I shivered, and he smiled. "I feel like I need to mark my territory." "Shut up." "Oh, I love it when you get all bossy-pants. It's sexy. — Jennifer L. Armentrout

The mother memories that are closest to my heart are the small gentle ones that I have carried over from the days of my childhood. They are not profound, but they have stayed with me through life, and when I am very old, they will still be near ... Memories of mother drying my tears, reading aloud, cutting cookies and singing as she did, listening to prayers I said as I knelt with my forehead pressed against her knee, tucking me in bed and turning down the light. They have carried me through the years and given my life such a firm foundation that it does not rock beneath flood or tempest. — Margaret Sanger

You don't know anything about me."
"No, I know not everything about you. But I sense enough to know you have mistaken obsession with drive, guilt with injustice. I know you want to escape what you are, cabbage fairy," he said, reaching for his hood and gloves and tucking them into the waistband of his trousers. "Your desires are no different from my own, I simply have the courage to face them. — F.D. Lee

Their nasty whispering made me angry. They had a neat way of tucking their point inside something softseeming and neighborly. The cutting edge was hidden in a joke or a piece of advice. It was like being sliced by a tiny blade hidden in a goose feather; it took a moment to realize the wound. — Ananda Braxton-Smith

Here, sleep with your back against me. I shall protect you better this way."
She nodded, shuffled closer, and leaned back against him. Her unique womanly scent washed over him, and he fortified his resolve, though having her so close on a bed of furs fired his blood. She dragged her fur up, and he draped his extra across, tucking it in around her shoulders and arms.
"I do not fancy having one of them lying next to you. Besides, I wish not for your pinkie to wander. — Angela Quarles

What? I'm not suppose to date or hang out with anyone now?"
Daemon smiled. "Anyone human, yes."
"Whatever." I shook my head, standing. "This is a stupid conversation. I'm not dating anyone anyway, but if I were, I wouldn't stop just because you said so."
"You wouldn't?" His hand shot out, tucking back a strand of hair behind my ear. "We'll just have to see about that."
I stepped sideways, keeping distance between us. "There's nothing to see."
Challenge filled his eyes. "If you say so, Kitten."
Folding my arms, I sighed. "This isn't a game."
"I know, but if it were, I'd win. — Jennifer L. Armentrout

I told you, Baby. They're gonna love you. Love you like I love you, love you, Shepley said, tucking her hair behind her ear. — Jamie McGuire

You ready to go home?" I asked.
"I've been ready to go home all night. I still hate you."
"You need to find new insults. That's getting old."
"Fuck off."
Grinning, I climbed onto my bike. She climbed up behind me, tucking in tight and wrapping her arms around my waist, tits pressed against my back. For the first time in forever things in my world felt right, twisted as that sounds.
She was mine. She'd always be mine. — Joanna Wylde

The sheets are somewhere at our feet but he's so hot and warm that I press as tight as I can to his body and fall asleep. When I stir during the night, I'm awakened by the odd, novel sensation of a powerfully built arm tightening around me and settling me back against the spot I've warmed against him. My extremities tingle when I peek up at his shadowed face and realize I'm in bed with him. He's sleeping or at least he appears to be. Then he turns his head, his eyelids parting open, and when he sees me, he kisses my lips again, licking them softly before he draws back to press his nose back into my hair, tucking me back into him. — Katy Evans

Wordlessly they settled on a third-story ledge near Patriarch's Pond, of the roof across from Luce's window, where they used to watch her sleep. The memory would be fresher in Daniil's mind, but the faint recollection of Luce lying dreaming under the covers still sent a warm rush across Daniel's wings.
Both were somber.In the bombed-out city, it was sad and ironic that her building had been spared when she hadn't. They stood in silence in the cold night,both carefully tucking back their wings so that they wouldn't accidentially touch. — Lauren Kate

It's fine, Mom, really.
She's tucking me into my bed, asking me how my back feels for the one hundredth time in the ten minutes that I've been home. She smiles and strokes my hair. That's what I'm going to miss the most about her. The way she strokes my hair and looks at me with so much love in her eyes. — Colleen Hoover

This is Sadie," he told his father, tucking a hand around Lia's waist as he introduced her by her alias of choice. "And by the door, we have Esmerelda, Erma, and Barf."
For the first time, I saw a flicker of annoyance cross Townsend Senior's face. "Barf?" He eyed Dean.
"It's short for Bartholomew," Lia lied smoothly. "Our Barf had a speech impediment as a child. — Jennifer Lynn Barnes

I see the real you, Rowen," he said at last, tucking his chin over my shoulder, "and I like who you are. — Nicole Williams

I see women in their 30s getting plastic surgery, pulling this up and tucking that back. It's like a slippery slope - once you start you pull one thing one way and then you think, 'Oh my God, I've got to do the other side.' — Halle Berry

Tucking my nose into a book makes me completely oblivious to my surroundings. I would have made a terrible spy in the army
the first person to hand me a novel would have been able to shoot my head clean off without me noticing. — Alyxandra Harvey

She had turned away and was watching a duck out on the lake. It was tucking into weeds, a thing I've never been able to understand anyone wanting to do. Though I suppose, if you face it squarely, they're no worse than spinach. — P.G. Wodehouse

I never have thought I was beautiful and I never can get beautiful enough. I'm always doing whatever I can to look as good as I can, nipping and tucking if necessary. When you're older, you probably look more bizarre to people. But I don't care. I'm just totally convinced that it's more important that I be happy with me. — Dolly Parton

It seems to me that after someone sweeps across your life like a red-hot flame, peeling back the shutters that sat over your heart and your mind and setting free your sweetest dreams or your worst nightmares, after things cool down you've got two choices. You can either slip back into your old self, your old life, tucking those things you were too scared to look at back into hiding, or you can keep those parts of yourself out until you get so used to them that they don't scare you anymore and they just become a part of who you are. — Sandra Kring

I did say when we were wed that I would always see ye fed, no?" He pulled me closer, tucking my head into the curve of his shoulder. "I gave ye three things that day," he said softly. "My name, my family, and the protection of my body. You'll have those things always, Sassenach - so long as we both shall live. No matter where we may be. I willna let ye go hungry or cold; I'll let nothing harm ye, ever. — Diana Gabaldon

Cinder found her reflection almost comforting. The shopkeeper called her brave and beautiful. Jacin called her blinding. It was kind of nice to know that they were both wrong. She was still just Cinder. Tucking — Marissa Meyer

I'm not going anywhere." Gently, he stroked her back, cradled her head. Was there anything more astounding or more frightening to a man, he wondered, than a strong woman in tears?
"I've been right here all along. I love you, Eve, almost more than I can stand."
"I need you. I can't help it. I don't want to."
"I know." He eased back, tucking a hand under her chin to lift her face to his.
"We're going to have to deal with it." He kissed one wet cheek, then the other. "I really can't do without you. — J.D. Robb

This is where the pivotal events of my childhood unfolded, while I ate banana and root beer Popsicles, two by two, tucking the sticks neatly under the skirt of the chair. It's where Sunnybank Lad met Lady, Ken met his friend Flicka, Atlanta burned, Manderley burned, Lassie came home, Jim ran away, Alice got small, Wilbur got big, David Copperfield was born, Beth died, and, on an endless gloomy winter afternoon, Jody shot his yearling. — Jo Ann Beard

I hate you!" I screamed at Fang. Tucking my wings in, I aimed downward,
diving toward the ground at more than two hundred miles an hour.
"No you dooonnn't!" Fang's voice spiraled away into nothingness, far above
me.
Inside my head, almost drowned out by the roar of wind rushing by my ears, I
heard the Voice make a tsking sound. You guys are crazy about each other, it
said. — James Patterson

As she trotted down the stairs, she saw Blake stand up, tucking his piano in his pocket. The day's bright sun had him trapped in his spot in the shade. She stepped into his cover and kissed him.
"Thanks for the roses. And Teddy loves his bow." She brushed her hands through his hair. — Debra Anastasia

Aw, angel," he said, shaking his head as he looked around. "I get you now."

He got me? What the heck was that supposed to mean? "What?"

"You know, my grandmother is a big gardener," he said, tucking the flat of cat food under one arm and running his hand over the back of my sofa.

"That's wonderful. Now get out of my apartment."

"She's won awards 'round here for her roses," he went on his weird speech. His attention suddenly turned back toward me, pinning me into place. "She used to tell me that the prettiest roses have the biggest thorns. It's a defense mechanism. So," he said, coming closer toward me and running his finger across the side of my jaw, "I get you, Amelia Alvarado. — Jessica Gadziala

Rehv swooped down with his long arms and gathered her up against him, tucking her with vital care to his chest. Ducking his head to hers, his voice was deep and grave.
"I never thought I would see you again."
As he shuddered, she lifted her hands up to his torso. After holding herself back for a moment ... she embraced him as fully as he did her.
"You smell the same," she said rought, putting her nose right into the collar of his fine silk shirt. "Oh ... God, you smell the same. — J.R. Ward

I do think that I'm a big believer in having an idea or having ideas and just tucking them away in the back of your brain. Even if you aren't consciously thinking of them, I think they simmer. You're working on them, even if you don't know you're working on them, and I think having something in your head for a while is a valuable thing. — Rian Johnson

I moved in close, put my head on Theo's chest, pulled our clasped hands in to rest on his heart. "That's better," I said, tucking my head under his chin where it fit perfectly. "Yeah," he said softly. "It is. — Emma Scott

Every day for a week, sitting in my idling car, saying goodbye without saying anything at all - the touch of his hand, his forehead pressed to mine, the way he brushed my hair out of my face, tucking it behind my ear. And still, he hadn't kissed me. Not once. Nothing but that brief brush of his lips. I was beginning to go a little crazy. — Emme Rollins

I always sleep well, dearest, except for when your hot body smothers me completely!"
Darcy grinned. "Forgive me. Even sub- consciously I must be near you. I have no control over the matter. Tea and a scone?"
"Yes, please." She sat, tucking her feet under her. "No need to apologize, William. I simply elbow you hard and you roll away, temporarily at least. Come winter you can re- pay the treatment when I slip my frozen feet between your thighs. — Sharon Lathan

His eyes drifted shut. without opening them, he murmured, "I like the sound of your laugh. It's real and genuine. A lot of girls have this fake laugh. Not you."
"I like your laugh, too." I whispered, feeling pulled in, cozy in the cacoon of his bed.
"Yeah?"
I flattened my palm over his chest, enjoying the sensation of the firm flesh, even warm as it was. He sighed, like my cool hand offered him some relief.
"I laugh more since you came around," he said quietly, his lips barely forming the words.
He did? I frowned. He must not have laughed at all before, then, because I didn't think he was particularly jovial.
I held him through the night. And he held me back, tucking my head beneath his chin. His arms surrounded me and kept me close to his overly warm body. Almost like I was some kind of lifeline. I felt the moment his fever broke around one in the morning. I finally relaxed and fell asleep. — Sophie Jordan

He put it into drive and turned on the headlights. And there she was, standing in their white glow.
Holmes's skin was smoked black from the explosion, her hair flecked with snow. Her violin dangled from her fingers. She opened her mouth, and I saw her say my name.
I was out of the car in a heartbeat, and in the next, she was in my arms . . . "You're alive," I murmured, tucking my head over hers. "I'm so sorry. — Brittany Cavallaro

Dusty, empty shoe boxes, stacked taller and wider than her slim body, wobbled as she pressed her back against them, tucking her bony knees into her chest. — Jennifer L. Armentrout

As he pushes aside a piece of my hair, tucking it behind my ear, he seductively whispers, "Dahlia, I want you. I want to kiss you, touch you, make you come over and over again. I've never wanted anyone as much as I want you — Kim Karr

I can't force you. I can't make you want to survive this." He pulls me against him and runs his hand over my hair, tucking it behind my ear. His fingers trail down my neck and over my shoulder, and he says, "But you will do it. It doesn't matter if you believe you can or not. You will, because that's who you are. — Veronica Roth

Tucking my knees up to my chin, I wait for death. Sick and disoriented, I'm able to form only one thought: Peeta Mellark just saved my life. Then the ants bore into my eyes and I black out. — Suzanne Collins

Her death leaves me both depleted and emboldened. That's what tragedy does to you, I am learning. The sadness and wild freedom of it all impart a strange durability. I feel weathered and detached, tucking my head against the winds and trudging forward into life. — Claire Bidwell Smith

Wayne held back a smile, tucking it into his pocket for later use. — Brandon Sanderson

I was raised by drag queens, practically ... my mother died when I was four-years-old, so I was effectively raised by a bunch of different people. A lot of those people were friends of my sister, Kathleen, who had all these gay friends. She would baby-sit me everyday, and she would take me over to her friend's houses with all kinds of things going on: tucking, and eyebrow drawing, waxing, all sorts of things. I was literally raised by gay men. — Ellen Pompeo

Let's make a promise," he says. "To find each other." "How can we? We'll probably end up in different places." "I know." "And my name will be changed." "Mine too, maybe. But we can try." Carmine flops over, tucking his legs beneath him and stretching his arms, and both of us shift to accommodate him. "Do you believe in fate?" I ask. "What's that again?" "That everything is decided. You're just - you know - living it out." "God has it all planned in advance." I nod. "I dunno. I don't like the plan much so far." "Me either." We both laugh. — Christina Baker Kline

She had time to make room for him in her closet. The cat had time to get used to him. They had all the time they needed, because he'd told her he was hers, and he was a man of his word. "I've got all I need," she told him.
He leaned down and kissed her again, then stroked a finger over her temple, tucking a loose strand of hair behind her ear. "I want you to know," he said. "That you're the best choice I ever made."
"No regrets?"
"No regrets. — Jill Shalvis

Watch out for that one, Grace 2.0 whispered. That smile will have you tucking your heart into your panties and handing the whole shebang over before he even buys you a drink. — Lauren Layne

I could use a shower myself." He pulled her close and kissed her, tucking his hand beneath the sheet and smoothing it down the satiny curve of her hip. "We'd get to breakfast a lot quicker if we took one together. — Tracy March

Thank you," I said with pride, tucking the money away in my bra.
"You are incredibly sexy right now," Travis said in my ear as we walked to the living room. — Jamie McGuire

Is Jensen really your name?" she asked when he sat down again, closing the knife and tucking it back into his pocket.
"Does it matter? I've used any number of names. Jensen, Davidson, Wilson, Madsen."
"In other words your mother didn't know who your father was. — Anne Stuart

Besides, there was the way she beamed at me, smiling with her whole self, and how a coy gesture like tucking her hair back could make me want to follow her, help her, do anything she asked. I was hopelessly outmatched. — Ransom Riggs

Momma's going to commit a murder today," she said conversationally, tucking her bundled clothing up under her arm as she started for the door. "That's right. I'm going to find whoever woke me up, and I'm going to rip out their heart and show it to them before they have a chance to finish dropping dead. Won't that be nice, sweetie? Won't that be nice and bloody? — Seanan McGuire

It's still weird seeing you with a guy," Vick said. "Not that I'm against two wieners tucking into each other's buns. To each his own. — Lynn Hagen

When he first put his arms around me, it was tentative, like maybe he expected
I'd pull away. When I
didn't, he moved in closer, his hands smoothing over my shoulders, and in my
mind I saw myself
retreating a million times when people tried to do this same thing: my sister or
my mother, pulling back
and into myself, tucking everything out of sight, where only I knew where to
find it. This time, though, I
gave in. I let Wes pull me against him, pressing my head against his chest,
where I could feel his heart
beating, steady and true. — Sarah Dessen

Times like this it did seem real I was leaving, and even more that my family, and this life, would go on without me. And again I felt that emptiness rise up, but pushed it away. Still, I lingered there, in the doorway, memorizing the noise. The moment. Tucking it away out of sight, to be remembered when I needed it most. — Sarah Dessen

Shit! Cressida! Move!" The words were barely out of his mouth when he leapt forward and down, jumping six steps and rolling when he hit the bottom, catching her and tucking her against him. Above them, metal popped and the boulder slammed down, resealing the hole. — Rachel Grant