Wolf And Girl Quotes & Sayings

A trail made of pine needles and thistles leads you into the green darkness. The canopy casts shadows on old oaks and dogwoods, and you think you can smell the sour breath of a witch behind you. The wind sighs like a sleeping girl, carrying her bittersweet dreams along the paths to attract any man willing to look for thorn-covered castles. A wolf darts between fallen, rotted wood; maybe he's the one who can tell you where your heart is, how you're still breathing. — Kimberly Karalius

Dee De front and center girl. All hands on deck. Defcon 5. Huston we have problem! HELP!!! — Jessie Wolf

That story placed man above the animals, until man's fall at Eve's hand, and linked humans to God himself, fashioned in his image. But now the black wolf was telling the girl a grave secret. That man was an animal too. — David Clement-Davies

Define seduction.
Skimpy clothes. Lap dances. Sucking the red off a cherry lollipop.
I don't want to be a skank about it.
Look, sweetie. Obviously the nice girl, can-we-move-to-the-next-level-but-only-when-you're-ready routine has not worked. What you need is guns blazing, no-holds barred seduction. You need to stop approaching this so meekly and take control of the situation. You need to set the atmosphere. Scented candles. Lingerie. Wine. Dinner. Handcuffs.
Handcuffs? Really?
You don't want him to run, do you?
I worry about you sometimes.
Why do you think Lance has stuck around for so long?
Because you keep him chained to your bed?
That's not the point. — Em Wolf

Adults and pups alike, they surrounded her in the greeting ceremony, licking her face and wagging their tails. Brokefang let the girl hug him fiercely about the neck and nuzzled her in reply. — Tamora Pierce

Just the sight of him sent pleasure shooting through me. I might be reluctant to get emotionally involved with anyone right now, but I was still a wolf, and still capable of admiring a good-looking man. Kade was that, and a whole lot more. He was a horseshifter, and his coloring was that of a bay
a rich, mahogany bay that came complete with jet black hair and wicked, velvet-brown eyes. And he was built like a thoroughbred, with broad shoulders, slim hips, and those wonderfully long legs. Legs that could hold a girl just in the right place as she drove him deeper and harder inside.
excert from Darkest Kiss — Keri Arthur

When you think of Grimm's fairy tales, they are deeply, deeply psychological. They're so powerful, so bloody, and really, really disturbing. Think about five-year-olds reading that stuff. Even 'Little Red Riding Hood' is a really freaky story. Grandma is gobbled up by a wolf, and the wolf is going to eat the girl. That's scary stuff. — Denis O'Hare

Precious Saviour! come in spirit, and lay Thy strong, gentle grasp of love on our dear boys and girls, and keep these our lambs from the fangs of the wolf. — Theodore L. Cuyler

I will be girl with claws, heart bared and bruised and wanting. I am soul-shattering wolf-howl. I am lioness and hunt. I am more and enough. I am. — Venetta Octavia

What I've come to realize I that I don't like action for action's sake. Mindless explosions, super close ups of combat and gore, and unnecessary effects make me zone out incredibly fast.
What I do love is a fight that is well choreographed and in which I actually care about the outcome. And hopefully not riddled with cliches.
Even more so, I have had a long, deep-seated appreciation for watching chicks kick ass. Watching some lone-wolf-type hero beat the crap out of the bad guys is okay, but watching a BAMF femme do it is 10000% times better. — J.M. Richards

I can always tell when you're thinking about food. You forget to be the Serious Wolf and you get this dreamy look in your eyes. You know, most people would think you were thinking about a girl. They have no idea that her name is bacon. — Ilona Andrews

The funny thing was that the sisters were hardly nubile, creamy-skinned Lolitas blushing on the bough. In fact, one of them looked like she'd beaten herself with a tire iron during a smallpox-induced hallucination, and the other looked like a close-up photo of a wolf spider. — Diablo Cody

The hardest thing about being wanted was the hardest thing about wanting - wanting badly enough that it gave you stomachache, wanting in a way that was partly about kissing and partly about swallowing whole, the way a snake gulps down a mouse or the Big Bad Wolf gulps down Red Riding Hood - wanting turned someone you felt like you knew into a stranger. Whether that person was your brother's best friend or a sleeping prince in a glass prison or a girl who kissed you at a party, the moment you wanted more than just touching your mouth to theirs they became terrifying and you became terrified. — Holly Black

I am not afraid of you," I said quietly.
"Oh?" The Goblin King lifted his head. "I am the Lord of Mischief, the Ruler Underground," he said, mismatched eyes glinting. "I am wildness and madness made flesh. You're just a girl" - he smiled, and the tips of his teeth were sharp - "and I am the wolf in the woods. — S. Jae-Jones

He pauses, swipes a matchstick on a column. It bursts into flame. "I tell you, you must take risks in my studio." He finds a cigarette behind his ear and lights it. "I tell you not to be timid. I tell you to make the choices, make the mistakes, big, terrible, reckless mistakes, really screw it all up. I tell you it is the only way." An affirmative murmur. "I say this, yes, but I still see so many of you afraid to cut in." He begins to pace, slowly like a wolf, which is definitely his mirror animal. "I see what you are doing. When you leave yesterday, I go from work to work. You feel like Rambo maybe with the drills, the saws. You make lots of noise, lots of dust, but very few of you have found even this much" - he pinches two fingers together - "of your sculptures. Today this changes." He walks over to a short blond-haired girl. "May I, Melinda?" "Please, — Jandy Nelson

In the fairy tales there's only one Big Bad Wolf and the little girl takes only one trip through the Dark Forest and fights only one fight for her life before the story ends in happily and ever after. But life on the Calle is real, not make-believe, and every Calle girl knows that once the My-What-Big-Paws-You-Have fall on her skin, Little Red will carry that scent no matter how hard she scrubs. From that point on, every wolf in the every forest of her very real life will recognize her and they'll do their Biggest and Baddest to get into her basket anytime she drops her guard. So be prepared. We're not out of the woods yet. — Tupelo Hassman

Frost had built on the dead grass, and it skirled beneath his feet. If not for this sound he'd have thought himself struck deaf, owing to the magnitude of the surrounding silence. All the night's noises had stopped. The whole valley seemed to reflect his shock. He heard only his footsteps and the wolf-girl's panting complaint. — Denis Johnson

(Young girls) are taught to not see, and instead to "make pretty" all manner of grotesqueries whether they are lovely or not. This training is why the youngest sister can say, "Hmmm, his beard isn't really that blue." This early training to "be nice" causes women to override their intuitions. In that sense, they are actually purposefully taught to submit to the predator. Imagine a wolf mother teaching her young to "be nice" in the face of an angry ferret or a wily diamondback rattler. — Clarissa Pinkola Estes

I'll see you there little Red.' Fane's voice faded out of her mind and she could feel his humor. Oh, wasn't he just too cute, picking up on her two best friends' idea of a sick joke - to turn her into the little girl who almost wound up as the wolf's dinner.
"My, what big eyes you have, wolf-man," Jacque said out loud, unable to stop her sarcasm from boiling up.
"The better to see you with love," Jen chimed in.
"What big ears you have!" Sally continued their comic relief.
"The better to hear you with my love," Jen followed.
"What big teeth you have!" Sally mocked, her hands on either side of her face.
"The better to eat you with my love," Jen cackled, but she wasn't finished. True to Jen form she added her own twisted sense of humour. "My, what a big-"
Sally slapped a hand over her mouth, quickly realising where Jen was going with that statement. — Quinn Loftis

Every wolf in the world now howled a prothalamion outside the window as she freely gave him the kiss she owed him.
What big teeth you have!
She saw how his jaw began to slaver and the room was full of the clamour of the forest's Liebestod but the wise child never flinched, even as he answered: All the better to eat you with.
The girl burst out laughing; she knew she was nobody's meat. — Angela Carter

They were never my pack, not even Hot Pie and Gendry. I was stupid to think so, just a stupid little girl, and no wolf at all. — George R R Martin

And who are you supposed to be? My Prince Charming?" He snorts at that. "No, silly girl. I'm the big bad wolf. — Callie Hart

I am not soft. I do not have that luxury. I am the wolf in girl's clothing; all snarls and claws. My mother once told me: be gentle, be kind. She forgot to mention that the world was full of beasts, and if I wanted to survive I would have to become one myself. — Nichole McElhaney

My favorite sexual position is when the girl is facing Mecca and I am fighting off a wolf. — Dane Cook

You drugged me," she repeated, her fingers wrapping around my neck, "with your skin, and your hands, and your mouth. You're in my veins. My blood." Her lips were a breath's width from mine, her wolf teeth bright. We teetered on the delirious brink of a kiss. "You poisoned me, and it feels so fucking good. I want more."
My breath came fast. "Will you do it with me?"
"Yeah, I will. I'll fuck this world up with you."
"Good girl," I said. "Let's be bad."
I tore off her clothes. I tore off every shred of resistance she still held. And I fucked her, wild and rough, animal, like the monsters we were. — Leah Raeder

What is your name?" she asked.
"Names are like clothes, lady. I have many."
"And which one do you wear tonight?"
The god smiled. She could see he liked her words. He pulled her to him, pressed his wolf lips to hers and said, "My name is Misery, and would you know yet more?"
"Yes," said the girl, breathing in his scent, the scent of something beautiful, strange and burned. "I would know more."
He flicked at her lips with his tongue and whispered, "So is yours. — M.D. Lachlan

Whether or not [a] story has a happy ending depends, of course, on who is reading it. Whether you are a wolf or a girl. A girl or a monster or both. Not everyone in a story gets a happy ending. Not everyone who reads a story feels the same way about how it ends. And if you go back to the beginning and read it again, you may discover it isn't the same story you thought you'd read. Stories shift their shape. — Kelly Link

Afterwards, sitting on my bunk, I cried. I read somewhere that when you're a kid it's people's cruelty that makes you cry, then when you're an adult it's their kindness. I hadn't realised until that moment how completely I'd given up any entitlement to kindness.
And then when I saw Jake, so visibly strung out, looking so totally alone, the makeup felt cheap on my face, a stupid girl's gesture. (The girl's still in there, waist-deep in the blood and guts of the monster's victims. There might be something out there that'll kill the girl but if so I can't imagine what it could be.)
Are you okay? I'm fine. Are you all right? I'm fine. Weeks of waiting and then when the moment comes you trade the plainest words.
The nearness of him hurt, my heart, my head, my breasts, my womb, it felt like, started the wolf trying to tear itself free. — Glen Duncan

At the root of the tree at the heart of the world,
With a chain round his neck, the Wolf lies curled.
His gleaming teeth and jaws are furled,
And the sun shall rise in the morning.
His chain, it is forged of the nerve of a bear,
Of the voice of a fish, and a girl's chin-hair.
His chain, it is light and strong and fair,
And the sun shall rise in the morning.
With a mountain's root, and a cat's foot-fall,
And the spit of a bird, he is held in thrall,
Though iron could bind him never at all,
And the sun shall rise in the morning.
The sun shall rise, the stars shall fade,
For the binding which the good gods made
Still loops the Wolf in its lovely braid,
And the sun shall rise in the morning. — Maculategiraffe

salivating wolf was in hot pursuit of Lizzie Hearts, who kept shouting, "Off with its head! Off with its head!" "I'll help you!" Hunter rushed toward Lizzie Hearts, pausing first to rip off his shirt, place his fists on his hips, and strike a bold pose. Out of nowhere, trumpets played a heroic fanfare. "Oh!" Cupid said in surprise. The winged, pink-haired girl had transferred to the school just that year. "I didn't realize there would be so much trumpeting and tearing of shirts at Ever After High." "Hunter does that," Raven whispered to Cupid. "The shirt thing. We're not really sure why. — Shannon Hale

Autumn imagined the girl, with long dark hair in plaits and a red cape, running through the wood and stopping because she hears something: soft paws crushing damp moss, an animal breathing. She runs on. She's frightened. She knows what will happen is inevitable. All the while the wolf is keeping pace with her, watching her, its pink tongue lolling over its sharp, white teeth. Waiting for its chance. — Sanjida Kay

But how can an ordinary girl not know this? Had Varana's mother not bothered to teach her anything at all or just shouted complaints from a distance while her children fought and argued amongst themselves like wolf cubs? — Ruth Downie

Donegan Bane and Gracious O'Callahan - the Monster Hunters. Adventurers, inventors, authors of Monster Hunting for Beginners and it's sequels, Monster Hunting for Beginners is Probably Inadvisable and Seriously, Dude, Stop Monster Hunting. — Derek Landy

I just want to be entertained. The stories that have aged the best are the ones where the wolf eats grandma, or the woman is going to bake children in an oven, or the bear is going to eat the girl for eating the porridge. There are lessons in there, but they're deeply engrained and hidden. — Drew Daywalt

Difficulty will be to keep her from learning too fast and too much. She is always sitting with her little nose burrowing into books. She doesn't read them, Miss Minchin; she gobbles them up as if she were a little wolf instead of a little girl. She is always starving for new books to gobble, and she wants grown-up books - great, big, fat ones - French and German as well as English - history and biography and poets, and all sorts of things. — Frances Hodgson Burnett

Alright then, I guess that's settled," Lilly said, then she turned to Fane, "Lay a paw on my little girl and you will be a three legged Lassie, got it?"
Fane winced and then asked, "You both do realize I'm a wolf not a dog right? — Quinn Loftis

He turned and narrowed his eyes at her. "There is a certain sort of girl who wants the wolf to eat out of her hand. If you are such, I'll warn you, she doesn't keep her fingers long."
Emily met his gaze " Some wolves can be tamed."
"Then we call them lapdogs, my dear- and you'll put no leash on me. — Lena Coakley

I told you what I was when we began. I'm the black iris watered by poison. The wolf that raised its head among sheep and devoured its way, ruthless and bloody, to freedom. I never forgave, never forgot.
I didn't feel sorry. I felt bad. As in bad girl, not guilty. And feeling bad made me feel so fucking good. — Leah Raeder

I laid my head on his neck, and the two of us-girl and wolf-fell asleep, into a dream within a dream. — Jennifer Lynn Barnes

Once upon a different time, there was a girl who lived in a kingdom of death. Wolves howled up her arm. A whole pack of them--made of tattoo ink and pain, memory and loss. It was the only thing about her that ever stayed the same. — Ryan Graudin

A memory: Isola as a toddler, sugarlump teeth, skin still smelling of milk. Hair that curled without use of an iron and sweet dresses that didn't matter were dirtied. When she was old enough, she demanded the usual suspects at bedtime: The Little Mermaid, Hansel and Gretel, Beauty and the Beast.
Even then, Mother's contempt for non-Pardieu fairytales was obvious.
'Hmph,' she snorted derisively, folding up her knees to perch on Isola's bed. 'Listen to me, Isola. The original Beauty's just an encouragement to young women to accept arranged marriages. What it's really saying to impressionable girls is, "Don't worry if your new husband is decades older than you, or ugly, or horrid. If you're sweet and obedient enough, you might just discover he's a prince in disguise!'

Mother's Most Lasting Advice
'Never be that girl, Isola. Never pick the beast or the wolf on the off-chance he won't devour you. — Allyse Near

And so the game went on in this manner, a throng of children playing keep-away from a bowling ball tossed back and forth between two plump ogres. The air filled with shrieks and cheers and shouts of laughter as daring players thrilled at the sport. That is, all but the few poor souls knocked flat and captured. No laughter rose from behind bars because those in the birdcage knew what was in store. They would soon be lunch for a couple of hungry ogres.
Now you might be thinking - didn't Gavin call it fun when he was swallowed by a wolf earlier? And didn't he tell that raven-haired girl it doesn't hurt to be swallowed whole by a bear? All true, all true. But here's a secret you might not know.
Ogres chew their food.
Luckily, it's only the first bite that stings. — Richelle E. Goodrich

Be careful, little girl. Or else the big, bad wolf might just change his mind and decide to eat you after all. — Tracy Anne Warren

I know I'll miss her every single day, but the memories she left won't haunt me anymore. I'll remember the girl who never wore shoes, and our blood promise to always be friends. I'll remember girls who loved and trusted each other, protected each other, and sometimes even hurt each other.
I'll remember a friendship that will never go away. — Jennifer Shaw Wolf

American culture, perhaps more than any other, prizes individualism. Our narratives of art, politics, and business idolize the person who triumphs against the odds, with only himself or herself to answer to. The lone wolf. The stranger in town. The maverick. The plucky kid. The Final Girl. You've only got yourself, in the end. It's all up to you. — Andi Zeisler

No sooner are her glass toes thrust into the mud grave than the revolutions begin. Uprisings, fire and steel. The prince is lynched in the ballroom with the dead girl's hair. Royalty's a thing of the past. The kingdom chooses their monarch.
Naturally, they elect a wolf. — Allyse Near

The difficulty will be to keep her from learning too fast and too much. She is always sitting with her little nose burrowing into books. She doesn't read them, Miss Minchin; she gobbles them up as if she were a little wolf instead of a little girl. She is always starving for new books to gobble, and she wants grown-up books
great, big, fat ones
French and German as well as English
history and biography and poets, and all sorts of things. Drag her away from her books when she reads too much. — Frances Hodgson Burnett

Naomi Wolf dares to explode the myth of 'victim feminism' and pleads for allowing women to be as full of good and bad desires as men, as avid for sexual fulfilment and power as men, but held back by the twin myths of good-girlism and sentimental sisterhood. Though she is perhaps too sanguine about women quickly overcoming their fear of power, Wolf fills me with hope because I see her analysis as having shattered the false categories that imprisoned my generation. Women do not have to agree about everything to join in alliance with each other to promote female power. Women do not have to cast out their inner bad girl to assert their right to power. Women do not have to cast out their sexuality to be 'good sisters'. — Erica Jong

The northern girl. Winterfell's daughter. We heard she killed the king with a spell, and afterward changed into a wolf with big leathery wings like a bat, and flew out a tower window. — George R R Martin

A little girl was threatened by a wolf while walking through the forest, and as she fled from him she met a woodsman with an ax, but in this story the woodsman did not merely kill the wolf and restore the girl to her family, oh no. He cut off the wolf's head, then brought the girl to his cottage in the thickest, darkest part of the forest, and there he kept her until she was old enough to wed him, and she became his bride in a ceremony conducted by an owl, even though she had never stopped crying for her parents in all the years that he had kept her prisoner. And she had children by him, and the woodsman raised them to hunt wolves and to seek out people who strayed from the paths of the forest. They were told to kill the men and take what was valuable from their pockets, but to bring the women to him. — John Connolly

Except you can't judge a book by its cover. Whether or not this story has a happy ending depends, of course, on who is reading it. Whether you are a wolf or a girl. A girl or a monster or both. Not everyone in a story gets a happy ending. Not everyone who reads a story feels the same way about how it ends. And if you go back to the beginning and read it again, you may discover it isn't the same story you thought you'd read. Stories shift their shape. The two sisters are waiting for the moon to come up, which is not the same thing as waiting for the sun to go down. Not at all. — Kelly Link

Adonis watched her walk way. More specifically the hypnotic sway of her hips. The skirt hugged the round shapeliness of her ass. She would definitely be keeping that on with the heels later on tonight. He wasn't the only one who'd noticed her sensual departure. Jealousy stabbed through him like a red-hot poker at the perverts panting after his girl. He balled his fists to prevent himself from doing something stupid. Like tearing out their balls and cramming them down their throats. Chew on that assholes. — Em Wolf

If a girl is traveling in the steppe and she sees nothing but a single moving dot in the great distance, the dot sees her. Stag, man, wolf. — Atticus Lish

Before he could answer, the front door flew open and a little girl ran out, skidding to a halt inches from them. "Daddy?" The concern in the tiny child's eyes melted Shay's heart.
"Josie," Shay whispered.
Josie propped her fists on her hips, and she cocked her head to the side. "How do you know my name?"
"Joselynn, be nice and go get your nana."
Her lower lip trembled, but she turned and ran back inside. — Lia Davis

A lot of the stories were highly suspicious, in her opinion. There was the one that ended when the two good children pushed the wicked witch into her own oven ... Stories like this stopped people thinking properly, she was sure. She'd read that one and thought, Excuse me? No one has an oven big enough to get a whole person in, and what made the children think they could just walk around eating people's houses in any case? And why does some boy too stupid to know a cow is worth a lot more than five beans have the right to murder a giant and steal all his gold? Not to mention commit an act of ecological vandalism? And some girl who can't tell the difference between a wolf and her grandmother must either have been as dense as teak or come from an extremely ugly family. — Terry Pratchett

This is the story of a boy who used to be a wolf, and a girl who became one — Maggie Stiefvater

I wanted to write a very simple story about a boy, a wolf, a girl, a bear and a forest, so I thought I might set it in the past. I didn't realise that it went back to when I was 10: I used to love the Stone Age when I was a kid and wanted to live in it, and I got rid of my bed and slept on the floor, but I didn't remember it. — Michelle Paver