Tugs Quotes & Sayings

Kids reveal an obvious truth: natural wonder is built in to us," she wrote in her journal. "We are instinctively attracted to nature." Nature tugs on us like gravity, Carol believed. We travel long distances to stand atop mountains or stroll along seashores for reasons we can't quite put into words. Nature keeps alive a childlike wonder and enables us to see the world anew through fresh eyes. — Will Harlan

Hell is a library," she said, tightening her fresh knot.

"That really doesn't sound bad, Julia."

"That's because I'm not finished. Hell is a library of books containing every word you've ever said, and videotapes of everything you've ever done."

"So what. Do you have to watch them?"

"No, you don't have to. But would you be able to help yourself? It would be unbearable. I couldn't resist, but I would hate myself after." She gave the noose two good, hard tugs. "Plus, even if you could resist the temptation, you'd eventually get so bored that you'd do anything. And the only thing to read is stuff that you've said and the only thing to do is watch yourself. — Ainslie Hogarth

The bad thing about terrible misfortunes, the kind that tear us apart and appear to be unendurable, is that those who suffer them believe or almost demand that the world should end right there, and yet the world pays no heed and carries on regardless and even tugs at the sleeve of the person who suffered the misfortune, I mean, it won't just let them depart this world the way a disgruntled spectator might leave the theatre, unless the unfortunate person kills him or herself. — Javier Marias

Fools are unable to comprehend the wisdom of asking God to manifest His desires into their own hearts. Instead, they ignore the tugs of the Holy Spirit on their heartstrings. They follow after their own yearnings, which only provide temporary pleasure, incomplete joy, and eventual damnation. — Cheryl Zelenka

So it is that God tugs at a pilgrim's sleeve telling him to remember that he is only human. He must be his own man, remain in exile, and belong to himself. He must pay attention to his own feelings and to the meaning of what he does, if he is to be for himself, and yet for others as well. — Sheldon B. Kopp

He gives me a quick primer on the basics of the equipment and then shocks
me when he uses some of the rope to tie us together. He grins when he sees my
astonishment.
Nervous about being so close to me? he asks, giving the rope a slight tug.
I cross my arms, refusing to be baited by that dangerous question - even if
there is truth to it. But whatever my feelings for him, I must focus on the larger picture: Zhang Jing and our village's future.
Don't get any ideas, I warn.
A small smile tugs at his lips. And what kind of ideas would those be,
apprentice? — Richelle Mead

It's the Longing that ultimately undoes you. When it finds you, it gnaws at your bones and tugs at your chest. It fills you up inside like rot and makes you dream dreams and it drowns you. The Longing keeps you in bed, clutching at your sheets while the world goes on outside. It smells like old leaves and cigarette smoke, mixed with the scent of far-off places you will hear of, but never see. It's the gloss on a lover's lips the moment you realize you will never kiss those lips again. It is the bittersweet, unrequited love of creation and it will break your heart again and again and again. If you know the Longing the way I do, then these words are redundant. We understand each other perfectly, you and I. — Matthew Sturges

We need a god who bleeds now
a god whose wounds are not
some small male vengeance
some pitiful concession to humility
a desert swept with dryin marrow in honor of the lord
we need a god who bleeds
spreads her lunar vulva & showers us in shades of scarlet
thick & warm like the breath of her
our mothers tearing to let us in
this place breaks open
like our mothers bleeding
the planet is heaving mourning our ignorance
the moon tugs the seas
to hold her/to hold her
embrace swelling hills/i am
not wounded i am bleeding to life
we need a god who bleeds now
whose wounds are not the end of anything — Ntozake Shange

He is one of those who bring their own dark clouds wherever they go. He keeps them on a string. They are always there, even on the brightest of days. It takes only a chance remark and he tugs their strings, drags them down, and blots out the sun. — Steven Carroll

When if or chance or hunger's powerful sway Directs the roving trout this fatal way, He greedily sucks in the twining bait, And tugs and nibbles the fallacious meat. Now, happy fisherman; now twitch the line! How thy rod bends! behold, the prize is thine! — John Gay

Everything is in its
right place, and my heart wants to believe this can always be true. My heart wants to
make it true, even as something darker tugs it away. — David Levithan

I stop dead in my tracks when I see Nash leaning against the wall right outside the ladies' room. His legs are crossed casually at the ankle, as his arms are crossed casually over his chest. His smile is faint. And sad.
Finally, he straightens and steps toward me. He doesn't stop until he is mere inches from me, forcing me to tilt my face up just to maintain eye contact.
He brushes his thumb over the ridge of my cheekbone at the corner of my eye. I wonder briefly if I missed a streak of mascara.
"I'm so sorry," he whispers, closing his eyes as if in pain. His face is etched with regret and it tugs at my heart.
"Don't be. You can't control other people. I just hope I haven't embarrassed you too badly, or ruined any important business connections you were hoping to make."
"I don't care about business connections. Not at this cost. — M. Leighton

Most of all, I like the quiet, rounded tugs. They remind me of women. As I watch them work I see them as kindly, no-fuss boats which patiently tend much larger, grander and more important-looking ships. They make sure these ships get to the right place as the right time, shepherding them with a pull or a push as needed. Their power is not immediately obvious but it is there - inside. I watch them a lot and never tire of seeing their unsung but absolutely essential work. The silent strong women of the sea. — Hazel Hawke

Jesus, Samara Jane, do you fuck your girlfriend with that mouth?"

She tugs my lip between her teeth. "Only when she's good. — Dahlia Adler

Death tugs at my ear and says, 'Live. I am coming. — Oliver Wendell Holmes, Sr.

Loss bites and pulls. It is a thing of hooks sunk into every part of you, parts that you would not think could feel loss like thumbs and lips, hooks moored to wind and memory so that slightest disturbance, the slightest act of recall, tugs at those fine lines. Red is the colour of loss and its smell is like burned roses. — Ian McDonald

Works that have a certain imperfection to them have an appeal for that very reason - or at least they appeal to certain types of people. Just like you're attracted to Soseki's The Miner. There's something in it that draws you in, more than more fully realized novels like Kokoro or Sanshiro. You discover something about that work that tugs at your heart - or maybe we should say the work discovers you. Schubert's Sonata in D Major is sort of the same thing. — Haruki Murakami

Fear tugs at me and I'm falling.
I grab at the mattress, dig in with my fingers, flop onto my stomach, hold tight. Press my face into the pillow so hard it hurts. The quilt twists like it wants to smother me.
I can't scream out loud, but there has to be some release. I kick my feet against the mattress in a muffled frenzy, legs flying fast and hard enough to carry me miles away. And when it's done, nothing's changed. I'm still stuck right here. — Rachel M. Wilson

Sometimes I look a the Moon, and I imagine that those darker spots are caverns, cities, islands, and the places that shine are those where the sea catches the light of the sun like the glass of a mirror ... I would like to tell of war and friendship among the various parts of the body, the arms that do battle with the feet, and the veins that make love with the arteries or the bones with the marrow. All the stories I would like to write persecute me when I am in my chamber, it seems as if they are all around me, the little devils, and while one tugs at my ear, another tweaks my nose, and each says to me, 'Sir, write me, I am beautiful'. — Umberto Eco

Nothing speaks louder than an evocative photograph that stirs the imagination, tugs at the heart strings and engages the mind. — Mark Carwardine

His eyes meet mine.
It can't be more than a few seconds.
Before I even realize what he's doing, he slips the belt down over my head. Gripping the end of it, he tugs, tightening it around my neck like a collar.
I gasp.
He tightens it more.
Oh fuck.
I can't breathe.
I can't breathe. — J.M. Darhower

He picks up the remote and turns his show back on. "This is the best part." He points at the TV and grins. I lift my feet, but he grabs them and holds tight. "Stay a few minutes. I missed you when you were gone." He grins at me again. My heart clenches. His fingers start that slow sweep up and down my foot again. I turn my head so I can watch the TV with him. He talks to the TV while the cook-off is going on, like Emilio does when he's watching sports. It makes me laugh. He looks at me, his brows raised. "Are you laughing at me?" He grabs my foot tightly and holds it, his other hand holding my middle toe. He gives it a tug and I squeal. "Let me go!" He laughs and tugs my toe until it pops. It doesn't hurt. But it's damn aggravating. "That's what you get when you mess with me," he taunts. I — Tammy Falkner

Follow the tugs in your heart. I think that everyone gets these gentle urges and should listen to them. Even if they sound absolutely insane, they may be worth going for. — Victoria Moran

Up and away for life! be fleet!-
The frost-king ties my fumbling feet,
Sings in my ears, my hands are stones,
Curdles the blood to the marble bones,
Tugs at the heart-strings, numbs the sense,
And hems in life with narrowing fence.
Well, in this broad bed lie and sleep,-
The punctual stars will vigil keep,-
Embalmed by purifying cold;
The winds shall sing their dead-march old,
The snow is no ignoble shroud,
The moon thy mourner, and the cloud. — Ralph Waldo Emerson

Ant swarming City
City full of dreams
Where in broad day the specter tugs your sleeve
— Charles Baudelaire

He tugs on my hair. "You want to me to fuck you, inocencia?"
"Do you want to fuck me, pirate?"
"You fuckin' know I do. — Bella Jewel

He tugs me closer, and my ankles lock behind him. Is it PG-13 time? — Rachel Harris

Normally death came at night, taking a person in their sleep, stopping their heart or tickling them awake, leading them to the bathroom with a splitting headache before pouncing and flooding their brain with blood. It waits in alleys and metro stops. After the sun goes down plugs are pulled by white-clad guardians and death is invited into an antiseptic room.
But in the country death comes, uninvited, during the day. It takes fishermen in their longboats. It grabs children by the ankles as they swim. In winter it calls them down a slope too steep for their budding skills, and crosses their skies at the tips. It waits along the shore where snow met ice not long ago but now, unseen by sparkling eyes, a little water touches the shore, and the skater makes a circle slightly larger than intended. Death stands in the woods with a bow and arrow at dawn and dusk. And it tugs cars off the road in broad daylight, the tires spinning furiously on ice or snow, or bright autumn leaves. — Louise Penny

He laughs. "No! Aguaje is for girls. If a man eats to much of it, he starts to look like a woman."

"That is the most unscientific thing I've ever heard."

"Then you haven't met my cousin Jacari." Eio swings the string of fruit back and forth. " Too much aguaje. Now the mothers use him as wet nurse."

My mouth freezes in mid-bite, and I stare at him. "You're teasing me."

A smile tugs at the corner of his mouth. "Maybe. — Jessica Khoury

Elizabeth Turnage is a woman of grit and grace who lives into the stories of those who join her in this odd journey of seeking God. She honors the complexity of life without ever losing sight of the simple glory of the cross. Her grasp of the mundane and miraculous and their interplay gives a depth and honesty to her story that tugs at the heart and gives us hope our story can matter. Her book will be a clarion call to bring our broken, holy, troubled, and glorious life to the author of all stories: Jesus. — Dan B. Allender

And she just takes it, drinking me down, sucking my cock with sharp tugs that have me babbling demands. "God, honey, promise you'll marry me one day. I have to have this for the rest of our lives. Forever. Always. Fuck."
She releases me with a long pull, her finger sliding away. My skin prickles. I feel vaguely empty, my body sore in places I don't want to think about. And as she slowly kisses her way up my stomach, I'm still babbling. "Give it to me on Christmas. Birthdays." Her tongue flicks in my belly button. I grunt, my hips twitching. "My days off. Major holidays. Midnight surprises ... " Mac licks my nipple, and I shiver, my voice going raspy. "Twice on Tuesdays. — Kristen Callihan

If I am truly honest, I have to acknowledge that the demands I am so convinced are coming from the outer world are, in fact, coming from that perpetually unfinished part of me-the pulls and tugs originating from my own ambiguity. — Joan Anderson

I'm sorry. Is that too harsh an observation for you? Does that sound too much like the Truth? Fuck you. If anyone in this shithole city gave two tugs of a dead dog's cock about Truth, this wouldn't be happening. — Warren Ellis

I say, 'But he does not have you,' and I kiss her through the orchard gate.
It's a kiss I have longed to take. A kiss that gently tugs at Astrid's seething power, at the wildness inside both of us. It's sweet and feels like a confession: I love her. — Tessa Gratton

I dream of a small room and a man with one eye. Blood seeps like scarlet tears from his empty socket. I turn away and the room becomes a hallway that becomes a stairway that becomes a roof. The wind tugs at my body; the sky tries to wrap me in stars. Below me, a gazebo glows with red light. A line of black cars crawls like cockroaches through the streets.
An air conditioner exhaust fan chitters angrily near the roof's edge, one of its blades bent just enough to scrape against the side of the casing. For a second I let the wind push me close enough to the fan's razor- sharp blades that a lock of my hair gets snipped and sent out into the night. As it twists and flutters toward the gazebo, I think about just letting go, letting the breeze carry my body into the whirling blades, the wind scattering pieces of me throughout the city. Blood and flesh seeping into the cracked pavement. Flowers blooming wherever I land. — Paula Stokes

With his back to us, Sean tugs the halter from the mare's head. She kicks out, but he steps out of the way as if it were nothing at all. With a shake of her mane, she leaps mightily into the water. For a moment she struggles over the waves, and then she is swimming. Just a wild black horse in a deep blue sea full of the ashes of other dead boys. — Maggie Stiefvater

His eyes spark as his gaze dips to my cleavage, and this gives me courage. I shift forward and slip my hands under his shirt, brushing my fingers against the muscles of his abdomen. Noah sharply inhales and, in seconds, his shirt is off and thrown into the corner of the tent.
I love his naked chest, and I decide to play. Biting my bottom lip, hoping to contain the smile, I nudge Noah's shoulder, indicating for him to lie down. He flashes his wicked grin and reclines back, except he snags his hand around my wrist and tugs me with him.
I laugh as I come face-to-face with him. My body on top of his and when I wiggle, I close my eyes, liking the pleasure of intimate parts touching. My hips squirm and with the movement, Noah immediately kisses my lips while knotting his fingers in my hair.
There's no subtlety in our kiss. All of the passion, all of the longing, all of the emotion rush out of us like water hurtling toward a cliff. It's fast and raw and out of control. — Katie McGarry

What's keeping them so long?" Jode tugs at his hair. "Have I gone completely gray yet? Do I look like Gandalf the Grey?"

Lucent shakes his massive white head, as impatient as his rider. He's ready to go, too.

"Yes," I say. "You're exactly like Gandalf, except a pop-star version. Lord of the Sing."

"This isn't good, man," Marcus says.

"Yeah, it was a reach. — Veronica Rossi

What are you doi - " My words are swallowed up as his lips crash down on mine. It isn't a soft kiss - it's intense, furious, in a way I never knew a kiss could be, his lips hard and unforgiving against mine. It's a shut-up-I-hate-you kiss. A you-drive-me-crazy kiss. An if-I-don't-kiss-you-I'll-kill-you kiss. It's a battle - our mouths are opposite fronts, fighting for ground, warring for control. I shove his chest. He bites my lip. I nip his tongue. He tugs my hair. The kiss goes wild as my other arm winds around him, clutching the back of his shirt, my nails raking against the fabric. — Julie Johnson

It tugs at something deep inside me, makes me wonder, when I never wonder. Makes me want, when I never want. — Tracy Wolff

Father and son

No sound - a spell- on, on out
where the wind went, our kite sent back
its thrill along the string that
sagged but sang and said, "I'm here!
I'm here!" - till broke somewhere,
gone years ago, but sailed forever clear
of earth. I hold-whatever tugs
the other end-I hold that string. — William Stafford

Owen," Henry said excitedly, "I think Coach wants you to hit for Meccini."
Owen closed The Voyage of the Beagle, on which he had recently embarked. "Really?"
"Runners on first and second," Rick said. "I bet he wants you to bunt."
"What's the bunt sign?"
"Two tugs on the left earlobe," Henry told him. "But first he has to give the indicator, which is squeeze the belt. But if he goes to his cap with either hand or says your first name, that's the wipe-off, and then you have to wait and see whether
"
"Forget it," Owen said. "I'll just bunt. — Chad Harbach

I think I finally understand the saying like a moth to a flame. I'm the moth. My heart flutters like the paper thin wings. And he is the flame, incendiary, scorching my soul.
He inhales so heavily, like he's been holding his breath under water. He presses his lips against mine and tugs at my hair gently. My head falls back and my mouth falls open. His tongue, slick as silver, dances with mine.
I'm wrong. I'm not a moth. I'm Icarus and I've flown too close to the sun. — A.D. Evans

And so sometimes when you feel strange, when a pang tugs at your heart or it seems like the moment has already happened- or when you look up in the sky and are surprised at the sight of bright Jupiter between clouds, and everything suddenly seems stuffed with a vast significance-consider that some other person somewhere is entangled with you in time, and is trying to give some push to the situation, some little help to make things better. Then put your shoulder to whatever wheel you have at hand, whatever moment you're in, and push too! Push like Galileo pushed! And together we may crab sideways toward the good. — Kim Stanley Robinson

I know I'm someone powerful, someone dangerous. A grim smile tugs at my lips despite my current circumstances. I know I'm not afraid of pain or death. And these men and women? They should be afraid of me. Because whoever I am, I am violent, and I will be having my revenge. — Laura Thalassa

is yank it. It'll release eventually." "It usually does, when you yank it," he said with a smile. Nana wrapped both hands around the fleshy appendage and started pulling on it with a series of quick, short tugs. "I know I can jerk it off," Nana said. "I just gotta keep tugging." I had to bite my lip to keep from laughing. Behind the camera, Trevor was shaking with silent laughter and turning red. — Alexa Land

The dream begins, most of the time,with a teacher who believes in you, who tugs and pushes and leads you on to the next plateau sometimes poking you with a sharp stick called truth — Dan Rather

The ocean has a voice, one that haunts me with its music every moment I'm awake. Even in my dreams it tugs on me, building the ache inside my bones until I can't ignore who I am. My mother says the water is dangerous, that beyond the innocent whitecaps they're waiting, but I never hear her over the call of the sea. — Tabi Card

Jesse."
My head springs up with a deep breath of panic. Alex's face appears in my blurry vision. I guess I managed to fall asleep in this old chair after all. Now I feel worse than when I sat down.
"Come." She takes my hand and tugs me until I get out of the chair, leading me to the bed. It's still dark out, but the fire casts enough glow.
"Wait, let me get the-"
"No, this is perfect. Really." She's still whispering. the girl who drives a BMW Z8, and she wears probably two years' worth my salary on her finger, curls up on an unmade bed with an old wool blanket and says it's perfect. — K.A. Tucker

The world is a bundle of hay, Mankind are the asses that pull, Each tugs in a different way And the greatest of all is John Bull! — Lord Byron

Even when you're angry, love tugs at your soul in the most painful way. It makes you care- makes you feel- when that's the last thing you want. — Calia Read

When one tugs at a single thing in nature, he finds it attached to the rest of the world. — John Muir

A woman I have never seen before
Steps from the darkness of her town-house door
At just that crux of time when she is made
So beautiful that she or time must fade.
What use to claim that as she tugs her gloves
A phantom heraldry of all the loves
Blares from the lintel? That the staggered sun
Forgets, in his confusion, how to run?
Still, nothing changes as her perfect feet
Click down the walk that issues in the street,
Leaving the stations of her body there
Like whips that map the countries of the air. — Richard Wilbur

DARE you see a soul at the white heat?
Then crouch within the door.
Red is the fire's common tint;
But when the vivid ore
Has sated flame's conditions, 5
Its quivering substance plays
Without a color but the light
Of unanointed blaze.
Least village boasts its blacksmith,
Whose anvil's even din 10
Stands symbol for the finer forge
That soundless tugs within,
Refining these impatient ores
With hammer and with blaze,
Until the designated light 15
Repudiate the forge. — Emily Dickinson

The lawyer plays on sympathies, tugs on heartstrings, and twists everything around so that somehow the rapist or murderer becomes the victim. Perhaps the lawyer's story of neglect and abuse is true. Sad, perhaps. But to me, it never cut it as an excuse. The dead person is the victim, and the murderer is the murderer. — Rachel Reiland

I first set the needle on this record and bingo! the whole mechanism begins: the record player's arm tugs at a thread as the record plays; the thread pulls over this glass and lets this marble loose; the marble rolls down this miniature slide and snap! the spring is released, cutting off your heads! Brilliant!
'And just to be on the safe side,' he continued, 'this crossbow will shoot you as the trap is released, the axe will chop you in half and the anvil will crush you to pieces!'
'And do you see this gun?' Ratigan asked with a smile. 'In case you hadn't noticed, dear friends, it's also pointed at you! Ha! Ha! Ha!' Ratigan burst you laughing — Walt Disney Company

There was pie on the table when Tugs returned. Pie in the Button family meant trouble. — Anne Ylvisaker

Then the triumph was swept away by something much stronger and deeper. Something fierce and joyous-and pure. They were clinging together, he was holding her as hard as she was holding him.
Electricity seemed to arc between them. Everywhere they touched Kaitlyn could feel the sparks. His hand tangled in her hair, and she was frighteningly moved by the tiny tugs, the little pain it caused as his fingers worked. His lips brushed against hers again and again. — L.J.Smith

As for Fergus. He had a habit which Maud was not experienced enough to recognise as a common one in ex-lovers of giving little tugs at the carefully severed spider-threads or puppet-strings which had once tied her to him. — A.S. Byatt

Quince reaches me, and instead of wrapping me in a hug like I expect, he reaches for my hair. I try to swim back, away from the near-desperate look in his eyes, afraid that he's going to fail the test.
He tugs something from my hair.
I look down and see a Padina antillarum - a beautiful little seaweed shaped like ginkgo leaves - in his hand. And it's glowing.
"You," he says with an explosive grin. "You are the sixteenth object. — Tera Lynn Childs

I want so many things," he whispers. "I want your mind. Your strength. I want to be worth your time." His fingers graze the hem of my top and he says "I want this up." He tugs on the waist of my pants and says "I want these down." He touches the tips of his fingers to the sides of my body and says, "I want to feel your skin on fire. I want to feel your heart racing next to mine and I want to know it's racing because of me, because you want me. Because you never," he says, he breathes, "never want me to stop. I want every second. Every inch of you. I want all of it. — Tahereh Mafi

If the composition's imperfect, why would so many pianists try to master it?'
'Good question. I have no great explanation for it, but one thing I can say. Works have a certain imperfection to them have an appeal for that very reason. There's something in it that draws you in, more than more fully realized novels. ou discover something about that work that tugs at your heart- or maybe we should say the work discovers you.
~page 111
#canbetakenasacommentaryonthisnoveloverall — Haruki Murakami

She never understood that love
especially that of a child
was the most necessary weight you can endure in life, even if it hurts, even if it tugs bags under the skin of your eyes. Without it, the soul skitters to the edge of the world and teeters there, confused. — Tiffany Baker

When you have a childhood dream that still burns and tugs at your heart when you're an adult, you owe it to yourself to pursue and achieve this dream. — Robert Cheeke

Family life! The United Nations is child's play compared to the tugs and splits and need to understand and forgive in any family. — May Sarton

I don't even know if I have bones in my body anymore. I don't know how I'm standing. I could melt under the sweet heat of his lips that are now tracing a line down my chest to the very top of my breasts, as he tugs gently at my shirt, giving himself room to leave one more brush of his lips, before he stops. — Lauren Blakely

Then one last thought tugs at me, so I turn back.
"So why did you name me Tamsin?" I ask. "You always promised to tell me later. Even though, technically, it's earlier."
My grandmother's smile flickers, deepens.
"It's how you introduced yourself to me tonight. I just assumed that's what you wanted to be named. — Carolyn MacCullough

A strange feeling: as if filaments trailed from Arin's body. A thousand fishing lines snagging attention. Here and there. Little tugs. People caught on the lines. The way sometimes people couldn't look him in the eye, and when they did they become fish trying to breath air.
He wished it weren't like that.
He knew it would be necessary. — Marie Rutkoski

And yet - and yet - one's kite will rise on the wind as far as ever one has string to let it go. It tugs and tugs and will go, and one is glad the further it goes, even if everybody else is nasty about it. — D.H. Lawrence

He stares back at me, thinking. Then a little smile tugs gently at the corner of his mouth - the right side, always the right side. "You won't believe this one. — Margaret Wurtele

When I first saw you, you were like ... ' He shakes his head, tugs gently on my hair. 'A rainbow. I always knew you came with a storm. — Emma Trevayne

Romantic love is the kite that catches the wind and tenaciously heads for the sky;
wisdom is the string that tugs downward, holding it back — Joshua Harris

Isaiah opens my car door and his warm silver eyes smile at me. "Hey."
I sweep my bangs from my eyes. "Hi."
He offers his hand and I accept. His fingers wrap around mine and heat surges up my arm, flushes my neck and settles into a blush on my face. He tugs gently and I slip out. I'm not sure if my body vibrates from the rumbling of the garage door closing or from the blood pounding in my veins.
Our fingers lace together, and his other hand smoothly cups my hip. I suck in a breath, surprised that someone touches me so easily and with such care.
"You look nice," he says.
"I'm in my school uniform." White button-down blouse, maroon-and-black plaid skirt, and a pair of white Keds. Nothing spectacular.
"I know." The seductive slide in his voice causes the back of my neck to tickle. — Katie McGarry

Mars tugs at the human imagination like no other planet. With a force mightier than gravity, it attracts the eye to the shimmering red presence in the clear night sky ... — John Noble Wilford

Each day, the moon's gravitational field tugs at the earth as it rotates underneath. At CERN, this tiny stress caused the total length of the LEP tunnel to stretch and contract by about a millimeter (one-twenty-fifth of an inch) every day. Not such a big deal in a seventeen-mile-long beam pipe, but enough to cause a tiny fluctuation in the energy of the electrons and positrons - one that was easily detectable by the high-precision instruments. After some initial puzzlement at the daily energy variations, the CERN physicists quickly figured out what was going on. — Sean Carroll

I would like to tell about war and friendship among the various parts of the body, the arms that do battle with the feet, and the veins that make love with the arteries, or the bones with the marrow. All the stories I would like to write persecute me. When I am in my chamber, it seems as if they are all around me, like little devils, and while one tugs at my ear, another tweaks my nose, and each says to me, 'Sir, write me, I am beautiful.' Then I realize that an equally beautiful story can be told, inventing an original duel, for example, a man fighting and convincing his adversary to deny God, then running him through so that he dies damned ... — Umberto Eco

I will not play tug o' war. I'd rather play hug o' war. Where everyone hugs instead of tugs, Where everyone giggles and rolls on the rug, Where everyone kisses, and everyone grins, and everyone cuddles, and everyone wins. — Shel Silverstein

It was that period in the vernal quarter when we may suppose the Dryads to be waking for the season. The vegetable world begins to move and swell and the saps to rise, till in the completest silence of lone gardens and trackless plantations, where everything seems helpless and still after the bond and slavery of frost, there are bustlings, strainings, united thrusts, and pulls-all-together, in comparison with which the powerful tugs of cranes and pulleys in a noisy city are but pigmy efforts. — Thomas Hardy

This is the dilemma, the contradiction we cannot resolve. We do not want to be them. Yet we are fascinated by them, because every detail tugs at a buried memory. — Kelley Armstrong

How wise and how merciful is that provision of nature by which his earthly anchor is usually loosened by many little imperceptible tugs, until his consciousness has drifted out of its untenable earthly harbor into the great sea beyond! — Arthur Conan Doyle

Life just turns deliciously quirky when you stop resisting yourself and, instead, honor the intuition that tugs at you like a puppy on a leash in the park. Follow the magic and magic starts to follow you. — Tama J. Kieves

And as we round the bend toward Ivy Cottage, he tugs my braid just the way he always has ever since I was six, and then he reaches down and takes my hand.
Maybe sometimes dreams really do come true. — Heather Vogel Frederick

We're not going to argue about this, Al. That's what he wants. Won't let him do it."
"Do what?"
He wraps the hair I'm playing with around his wrist and tugs me close, bowing his head so our brows touch. "Come between us."
My entire body goes soft and warm at the gruff possessiveness in his voice, but he doesn't have a right to it. "Did you forget? There's already someone between us. You're moving with her to London."
"I was an idiot. To think for one second that being on the other side of the ocean could give me any control. — A.G. Howard

We're both so into it, neither of us hears the footsteps until a snarl breaks us apart. We turn to find Morpheus standing there with enough rage in his black eyes to send the Devil packing for heaven.
Jeb tugs his fingers from the rings in my belt but keeps a hand at my lower back. I touch my lips; they're throbbing and gluttonous, hungry for more.
"Wel, now, isn't that cozy?" Morpheus's voice isn't liquid this time. It grates like rusted nails along my eardrums. He peels off his gloves and slaps them against his palm, wings droopy and trailing the floor like a cape. "perhaps you might give Alyssa her lipstick back. We haven't time to find more before dinner." — A.G. Howard

Anytime someone basically commissions a piece, I write a song based on something personal to them. I go online and I do research on that person - Wikipedia, YouTube interviews, anywhere I can find a piece of information that kind of tugs at your heart a little bit. — Skylar Grey

There is a purpose to our lives that each day tugs at our sleeve as an annoying distraction. — Robert Breault

Do I look like I've been crying?' I say.
'Hmm.' He leans in close, narrowing his eyes like he's inspecting my face. A smile tugs at the corner of his mouth. Even closer, so we would be breathng the same air- if I could remember to breathe.
'No, Tris,' he says. A more serious look replaces his smile as he adds, 'You look tough as nails. — Veronica Roth

He reaches down and tugs his pant leg up. The gold cuff wrapped around his ankle is decorated with Smurf stickers. One of the other collectors did this after I crashed last night. Can you believe that mess? I can't get the damn things off. — Victoria Scott

Attachment exerted an invisible but powerful pull on the child, just as heavenly bodies are connected by gravitational forces. But unlike gravity, attachment makes its presence known by a negative inverse square law: the further the attached person is from their secure base, the greater the pull of attachment. The 'elastic band' which constitutes the attachment bond is slack and imperceptible in the presence of a secure base. If the secure base becomes unreliable or the limits of exploration are reached, the bond tugs at the heartstrings. — Jeremy Holmes

I think attraction and affection are often mistaken for love. For most people, recognizing true love is difficult. Realizing it exists within us, however, is quite simple. All we have to do is walk away. True love tugs at our heart until we return. — Scott Hildreth

Our historical pastime is the direct satisfaction of inflicting pain. There are lines in Nekrassov describing how a peasant lashes a horse on the eyes, 'on its meek eyes,' everyone must have seen it. It's peculiarly Russian. He describes how a feeble little nag has foundered under too heavy a load and cannot move. The peasant beats it, beats it savagely, beats it at last not knowing what he is doing in the intoxication of cruelty, thrashes it mercilessly over and over again. 'However weak you are, you must pull, if you die for it.' The nag strains, and then he begins lashing the poor defenceless creature on its weeping, on its 'meek eyes.' The frantic beast tugs and draws the load, trembling all over, gasping for breath, moving sideways, with a sort of unnatural spasmodic action- it's awful in Nekrassov. But that only a horse, and God has horses to be beaten. — Fyodor Dostoyevsky

Kate opens a jar of honey and pours a thick line of the sticky stuff over the top edge of the wound. Setting the jar back on the counter, she picks up the first strip of cloth and gently wraps it around his arm. As she works, she can feel his eyes on her, watching her silently. She stands close, and his injured arm is outstretched just enough for his hand to be hanging in the air beside her waist. When she tugs on the bandage to make the first knot, his hand is pulled to her, lightly brushing the side of her body with the tips of his fingers. When she tugs again, he presses his hand to her waist, and she feels the subtle constriction of his fingertips. — Kari Aguila

Like a girl, a baby running after her mother, begging to be picked up, and she tugs on her skirts, holding her back as she tries to hurry off - all tears, fawning up at her, till she takes her in her arms ... That's how you look, Patroclus, streaming live tears. — Homer

Tugs used to think that everyone's name was in the dictionary, and when she had realized it was only hers, both Tugs and Button, she felt suddenly fond and possessive of it, as if this book were put here for her guidance alone. — Anne Ylvisaker

Tugs was surprised to find that the cake was actually pretty dry and not as good as the cakes her own mother made. It was a revelation. Tugs had assumed that tastier food came out of fancier houses. — Anne Ylvisaker

You're my lifeline, he whispers and kisses my knuckles before pressing my palm against his. With his eyes wide and full of fear, he gently tugs my hand and places it on his chest over his heart- in the forbidden zone. His breathing quickens, his heart is beating a frantic pounding tattoo beneath my fingers. He doesn't take his eyes off mine; his jaw tense, his teeth clenched.
I gasp. Oh my Fifty! He's letting me touch him. And it's like all the air in my lungs has vaporized- gone. — E.L. James

I want to bite this lip, he murmurs against my mouth, and carefully he tugs at it with his teeth. — E.L. James