Quotes & Sayings About Words Coming Out Of Your Mouth

I don't like words coming out of a character's mouth that I adore because not only is he a little bit duplicitous but he's kind of practical in the way he thinks, and he thinks in terms of everyone's humanity and how quickly we can go against what we think we meant when we said it or what we believe or blah, blah, blah. — Robert Downey Jr.

Okay," Jack said. "I'm not really sure what you want from me." "I want you to stop trying to deny every feeling I ever have, Jack. I want you to stop telling me not to feel bad when I already do. I want you to stop telling me I look fine when it's so patently obvious that I don't. I want you to stop being so uncomfortable when things aren't perfect that you immediately start trying to pretend they are." Even as the words were coming out of my mouth, I realized how unfair I was being. Yes, I wanted for him to accept my emotional reality. But only when it suited me. I also wanted him to tell me that the baby would be fine when it was what I needed to hear. At least Jack was consistent. I was a nut job. — Jennifer Coburn

You know that something is really well written when you have to think so little about the words that are coming out of your mouth, and you're able to dwell in your own headspace to get there. — Tom Weston-Jones

Sweet Lord of penises, his voice is sexy," Sid sighs over the phone.
"Jealous of what?" I pull the phone away from my mouth and tilt my head.
"I only want to hear 'oh my God' when it's followed by my name and you coming around my cock." His tongue flicks the lobe of my ear.
I shiver and tighten my crossed legs.
"That's it. I'm ruined," Sid cries dramatically. "No man will ever live up to this."
"Both of you stop." My words are breathy and it takes all my strength to lean away from his mouth. — Sadie Grubor

He was done talking. Aiden came off the wall so fast the water reacted in a frenzy of bubbling. He - we - were in a frenzy. His arms crushed me to him, his mouth demanding, saying those three little words over and over again without speaking them. Aiden lifted me up, one hand burying deep in my hair, the other pressing into my lower back, fitting us together. He turned and my back was against the edge and he was everywhere all at once, stealing my breath, my heart, my soul. There was no coming up for air, no control or limits. There was no tottering on the edge. We both fell headfirst. In his arms, in the way the water bubbled and moved with our bodies, I may've lost track of time, but I gained a little part of me. I gained a part of him that U would hold close for the rest of my days, no matter how long or short that turned out to be. — Jennifer L. Armentrout

Do you care about your image?' Even as the words were coming out of my mouth, I was mentally kicking myself. He'd been kidding around, and meanwhile I sounded like an afternoon special. But he didn't seem to mind.
'Sure. It's my armor.'
'Your what?' The WALK sign flashed, and he put a hand on my elbow as we crossed the street. And yes, even that faint pressure on that small spot made my entire arm tingle.
'My armor. You know. Self-protective camouflage. Everybody has an armor. Even you, I bet, even though I still haven't figured out what form yours takes. — Jennifer Sturman

She smoothed the long sleeve of her tight, orange t-shirt. "What? You've never seen a woman wear more than one shirt before?"
Odin's mouth closed and opened a few times before words finally came out. "She's like a fuckin' seven layer burrito someone forgot was in the back of the fridge for six months."
She had to laugh. How could she not with such vivid imagery coming from someone who dressed like he was going on an unholy crusade at any moment? — Jennifer Turner

Jacob realized that if she kept on going like that he might very well cry out himself. But just then a voice outside the wagon called "JAKE! AIR YE IN THAR?" and he knew it was Sarah. "ANSWER ME!" she requested, so he did. "Yeah, I'm in here, but I'll be right out." He was bucking beneath the weight of Virdie in an effort to finish. "WHAT'RE YE DOIN IN THAR, JAKE?" Sarah wanted to know. "I'm havin words-" he panted "-with this here Rebel foe." He was nearly there, although he realized that the wagon must be visibly shaking. Virdie suddenly stuffed her dress into her mouth, but it was not enough to keep another one of her long groans from coming out. "JAKE!" Sarah hollered. "YOU AINT A-HURTING HER, AIR YE?" "Jist a little," he answered, "to teach her a lesson." And then he got there, rapturously, reflecting, Godalmighty, if I could git this reg'lar, maybe I'd jine the Rebels after all. — Donald Harington

Shh." I squeeze his hand. His palm feels clammy. "We have to keep it down, okay? We don't want my dad coming in."
He grits his teeth against more shivers. "Always knew I'd end up in your bed ... and hear you say those words one day." He manages a smirk.
Jeb snarls. "Unbelievable. Even when he's at death's door he's a tool." He arranges a pillow beneath Morpheus's neck. "Why don't you keep your mouth shut while we help you."
Morpheus laughs weakly, his skin flashing with blue light. "What say Alyssa"
his breath rattles
"give my mouth something else to do? — A.G. Howard

The day is coming when I fly off, but who is it now in my ear who hears my voice? Who says words with my mouth? Who looks out with my eyes? What is the soul? I cannot stop asking. — Rumi

Don't put people, or anything else, on pedestals, not even your children. Avoid global labels such as genius or weirdo. Realize those closest get the benefit of the doubt and so do the most beautiful and radiant among us. Know the halo effect causes you to see a nice person as temporarily angry and an angry person as temporarily nice. Know that one good quality, or a memory of several, can keep in your life people who may be doing you more harm than good. Pay attention to the fact that when someone seems nice and upbeat, the words coming out of his or her mouth will change in meaning, and if that same person were depressive, arrogant, or foul in some other way, your perceptions of those same exact words would change along with the person's other features. — David McRaney

The easiest way to get touch with this universal power is through silent Prayer. Shut your eyes, shut your mouth, and open your heart. This is the golden rule of prayer. Prayer should be soundless words coming forth from the centre of your heart filled with love. — Amit Ray

The second the door closed after him Laire started jumping, a huge smile on her face and her body shaking in repressed excitement. "I'll go, I'll go, I'll go. You don't even like the Oracle. Let me."
Before the first words were out of Laire's mouth, Fallon started to shake her head, and as soon as the green-haired woman took a breath, Fallon used it as her opportunity to say, "No way."
"Please please please."
"Let me rephrase. No way in hell."
Laire stopped jumping, a small pout coming to her lips. How she had been able to prevent an ankle fracture while jumping on those spikes, Larissa would never know. "Why not?"
"Because if they have an orgy going on, you'll want to join. And if they don't have an orgy going on, you'll want to start one. I'll take Aislynn with me. — Danielle Monsch

My father is in a new version of Heaven. He hasn't time to consider it yet, whether he is happy because he is hastening along the road with his father as day breaks, or just because he was asked to come and that now this is actually happening, or because he has been asked for a speech from Shakespeare and the phrases are coming like a long golden thread out of his mouth even before he has time to think of them. The words are there, and flow, as he works hard to, and now matches the long pole-vault strides of his father. — Niall Williams

Er, um, well. Most of the things coming out of my mouth are sounds, not words. Seems you spend enough time by yourself dumpster diving, you forget basic
human social skills — Alexandra Bracken

I wonder if the children of movie stars get this weird sense of disconnect I have now. The person on-screen looks like the woman who makes lemonade in our kitchen, but the words coming out of her mouth are alien. — Huntley Fitzpatrick

You fucked my wife,' said David, the words coming from his mouth before he realised how pathetic they sounded.
'I've fucked a lot of men's wives, David.' Pause. 'But none was in more need than yours. — Natasha Walker

Richard is my son now," her father was saying.
Margaret leaned over him. "No," she said, her voice harsh. "No, he is not."
"He will be, when - "
"By your definition, I am the only son you will ever have." He blinked at her. "I beg your pardon?"
She hadn't known she was going to say it, but the words seemed right coming out of her mouth. "...A continuation through the female line is not traditional, but the excuse will suffice. So understand this: I will choose the next Duke of Parford. I will inherit the estate. I will have the entailed property. — Courtney Milan

Not want you?" His voice was rough. "Everett, I'd lay you down right now in this thin blanket of snow and take you." Everett's eyes widened, but Alex's mind was racing, the images coming at him too quick for him to hold them back. "The cold air would touch you and then my mouth." He moved back into Everett's space, and Everett groaned. "My hands. Naked, Everett. I could bite your long limbs and lick the grace from your words and shock the neighbors with what obscenities I'd drive from your lips. — R. Cooper

You know how sometimes you realize you're doing or saying the wrong thing, but you just can't
stop yourself? You can literally hear the words coming out of your mouth and you just want to shove
them back in because the real you, the good you, would never want to be this way, but you just keep
going? — Robin Benway

Who sent you?" O'Ryan asked. "What was your purpose here?"
"To ... to tell you ... " The words didn't sound nearly as furious coming out of my mouth as they did in my head. The camp controller leaned forward, eyes narrowing into slits. "To go ... fuck yourself. — Alexandra Bracken

Halfway through, he realized that it couldn't really be Grace and that the words might not even be coming out of his mouth. She unnerved him with the candor of her unblinking gaze. "You don't have to look like that," he added. Must've said it this time. "Like what?" she said, her head turned a little to the side. "Like a man's fucked up outta his mind and in my bar? Go to hell." He'd reared back on his stool at that suggestion, trying to assemble his wits like pieces on a game board. A weight on his chest, in the dark and the light. He'd thought he was smarter. He'd thought she'd gotten mired in old ways of thinking. But it turned out new ways of thinking didn't help, either. Time for another drink, somewhere else. A kind of oblivion. Then regroup. — Jeff VanderMeer

Have you ever seen the Oscar Mayer Wienermobile?" I laugh at the words I never imagined coming out of his mouth. "Yes, why?" "Does it catch your attention when you see it?" "Yes, why?" "Is it because you wish you could drive it or you wish you had one?" Another laugh and a head shake. "No." Trick jabs his thumb in the direction of our neighbor's house. "That rack was the Wienermobile. — Anonymous

And there I saw in the night the vision of a man ... coming as it were from Ireland, with countless letters. And he gave me one of them, and I read the opening words of the letter, which were, The voice of the Irish ... and as I read the beginning of the letter I thought that at the same moment I heard their voice - they were those beside the Wood of Voclut, which is near the Western Sea - and thus did they cry out as with one mouth: We ask thee, boy, come and walk among us once more. — Saint Patrick

We begin to say something that cannot be said. When you see on the front page a woman in Iraq who's just seen her husband blown up, you see her there, her mouth wide open, you know the sound coming out of her, a howl of grief and pain
that's the beginning of language.
Trying to express that, it's inexpressible, and poetry is really to say what can't be said. And that's why people turn to it in these moments. They don't know how to say this, [but] part of them feels that maybe a poem will say it. It won't say it, but it'll come closer to saying it than anything else will.
I think there are always two sides, and one of them is the unsayable. The utterly singular. Who you are; who you can never tell anybody. And on the other hand, there is what you can express. How do we know about this thing we talk about? Because we talk about it. We're using words. And the words never say it, but the words are all we have to say it. — W.S. Merwin

Raistlin lay on the floor, his skin white, his breathing shallow. Blood trickled from his mouth. Kneeling down, Caramon lifted him in his arms.
"Raistlin?" he whispered. "What happened?"
"That's what happened," Tanis said grimly, pointing.
Caramon glanced up, his gaze coming to rest on the dragon orb - now grown to the size Caramon had seen in Silvanesti. It stood on the stand Raistlin had made for it. Caramon sucked in his breath in horror. Terrible visions of Lorac flooded his mind. Lorac insane, dying ...
"Raist!" he moaned, clutching his brother tightly.
Raistlin's head moved feebly. His eyelids fluttered, and he opened his mouth.
"What?" Caramon bent low, his brother's breath cold upon his skin. "What?"
"Mine ... " Raistlin whispered. "Spells ... of the ancients ... mine ... Mine ... " The mage's head lolled, his words died. But his face was calm, placid, relaxed. His breathing grew regular. — Margaret Weis

Mrs. Heath wanted to sprinkle their minds with grass seed and watch the blades spike up through the earth, flat and predictable as a golf course. She wanted dependable students, well fed but not necessarily nourished. But he was not in that category. Admittedly, he could not count on his perceptions of letters and words, and he was not always accurate. He misused words most when he liked their sound. A sentence had a kind of music, and the word sounded right. The definitions were never as interesting as the sound they made coming out of your mouth. He rolled their flavors around on his tongue, tasting every nook and cranny, but he could not be trusted to deliver the right answer and she would never give him better than a C, no matter what genius work he produced. The way he saw it, his mind was a big unruly field of wildflowers. One day he would shower the world with blossoms. — Elizabeth Brundage

A man ... can find comfort in words coming out of his own mouth. — C.S. Lewis

Jack complained "I could really go for some bubble and squeak or some bangers. Do you kids think you could cook up some steak-and-kidney pie for me?"
The girls stared
"I hear noises coming from his mouth but they don't sound like words," Daphne said.
"Maybe he is having some kind of fit" Sabrina said. — Michael Buckley

So you have the challenge of just learning the lines, period, and not only learning them, but learning them to the extent that you assimilate them, so that you're not worried about what the next word is coming out of your mouth when it comes to doing a scene. And you're also in the trenches with the writers, just in the wonderful kind of back and forth of how is it best to say something, even if it involves four or five words. I love that kind of thing. — Glenn Close

Performing for the Dalai Lama - those are words I never imagined coming out of my mouth. — Joe Nichols

Against the monster, I've always wanted meaning. Not for its own sake, because in the usual course of things, who needs the self-consciousness of it? Let meaning be immanent, noted in passing, if at all. But that won't do when the monster has its funnel driven into the back of your head and is sucking the light coming through your eyes straight out of you into the mouth of oblivion. So like a cripple I long for what others don't notice they have: ordinary meaning. Instead, I have words. The monster doesn't take words. It may take speech, but not words in the head, which are its minions. The army of the tiny, invisible dead wielding their tiny, spinning scythes, cutting at the flesh of the mind. Unlike ordinary blades, they sharpen with use. They're keenest in repetition. Self-accusation being nothing if not repetitive. There is nothing deep about this. It is merely endless. — Adam Haslett

My mouth is a fire escape.
The words coming out
don't care that they are naked.
There is something burning in there. — Andrea Gibson

Tell me what to do. Tell me what I need to do to get you back... I stood there, gaping at him for a moment. Once upon a time I'd dreamt of those words coming from his mouth. Once upon a time I craved them. I felt that I needed them, but that time passed. — Claire Contreras

Sometimes when Anna is talking to Louise she sees words coming out of her mouth like fistfuls of stones. But she doesn't intend to spew stones; it's simply the only way Anna knows how to takl to her mother. — Jessica Anya Blau

Peter curled his hands into fists at his sides. 'Kiss me,' he said.
She leaned towards him slowly, until her face was too close to be in focus. Her hair fell over Peter's shoulder like a curtain and her eyes closed. She smelled like autumn-like apple cider and slanting sun and the snap of the coming cold. He felt his heart scrambling, caught inside the confines of his own body.
Josie's lips landed just on the edge of his, almost his cheek and not quite his mouth. 'I'm glad I wasn't stuck in here alone,' she said shyly, and he tasted the words, sweet as mint on her breath. — Jodi Picoult

Oh that's right, you never lie unless your mouth is open and words are coming out of it — Joshilyn Jackson

Holder: "Why'd you stop talking?"
Sky: "Talking? Holder, I'm reading. There's a difference. And from the looks of it, you haven't been paying a lick of attention."
Holder: "Oh, I've been paying attention. To your mouth. Maybe not to the words coming out of it, but definitely to your mouth. — Colleen Hoover

My mouth has gone dry as sawdust. I desperately find Cinna in the crowd and lock eyes with him. I imagine the words coming from his lips. 'What's impressed you most since you arrived here?' I rack my brain for something that made me happy here. Be honest, I think. Be honest. — Suzanne Collins

He opened his eyes again, raking his gaze up and down my body before coming to rest on my crotch. "Quite simply," he said, "I'd like to lick your cunt. I'd like to hear you scream my name."

The world seemed to sway. "Don't... don't you have groupies for that sort of thing?" I asked breathlessly.

"I'd rather have you."

I swallowed. "I don't know what to say."

"You can start by saying yes, please, Kent. Eat my pussy."

My skin tingled with his words. I wondered why he wasn't the one singing, front and center. That voice could carry me away, anywhere he wanted me to go...

Oh, this was a problem. This was a huge problem, and I wasn't about to make it any better. My mouth was dry, but the words came out clear enough:

"Yes, please, Kent. Eat my pussy."

"I thought you'd never ask," he said. — Ava Lore

The medium of poetry is not words, the medium of poetry is not lines-it is the motion of air inside the human body, coming out through the chest and the voice box and through the mouth to shape sounds that have meaning. It's bodily. — Robert Pinsky

The words that are coming out of my mouth and how I mean them, it's so much different. — Earl Sweatshirt

Diane suddenly felt like the words she was saying were twisting in her mouth and coming out as different words altogether. — Joseph Fink

Do you understand the words that are coming out of my mouth? — Jackie Chan

At the end of the day, the only things that are shovel ready around here are the words coming out of Barack Obama and Joe Biden's mouth. — Reince Priebus

She leaned closer and gently took his face into her hands. His rugged, beautiful face. "Thank you," she said, her voice suddenly growing husky as moisture collected at the back of her throat. "Thank you for saving my son." She touched her lips to his bandage-covered forehead. "You're the best man I've ever known, Benjamin Porter. And I'm frightened by how much you are coming to mean to me." "Don't be afraid, Tori." The low mumble of words brought her head up like a shot. "Ben?" His mouth quirked a half smile even as his eyes fluttered open. "I like hearing you say my name." Never — Karen Witemeyer

Anakin." Obi-Wan's voice had gone soft, and his hand was warm on Anakin's arm. "There is no other Jedi I would rather have at my side right now. No other man."
Anakin turned, and found within Obi-Wan's eyes a depth of feeling he had only rarely glimpsed in all their years together; and the pure uncomplicated love that rose up within him then felt like a promise from the Force itself.
"I ... I wouldn't have it any other way, Master."
"I believe," his onetime Master said with a gently humorous look of astonishment at the words coming out of his mouth, "that you should get used to calling me Obi-Wan. — Matthew Woodring Stover

These are Tyler's words coming out of my mouth. I am Tyler's mouth. I am Tyler's hands. — Chuck Palahniuk

I always enjoy it when I walk on stage. There were some times when I was working so much in the '80s, and I felt really burnt-out. But I'd be up there singing and not be 10,000 million miles away, you know, just opening my mouth and the words coming out. — George Strait

Yet the voice could take fright. This Kathy Kerouac foresaw only too well when syllables suddenly started coming out of her mouth like little fragments of oblivion giving her the impression she was contradicting herself. It was in these moments, when words were both true and false, solemn and light, on the tip of her tongue and deep in the throat, that space shrank in her mouth like a hard-felt blow. — Nicole Brossard

You smart girls are always the last to figure these things out. Why would a guy like me ask you out if all I wanted was friendship? You may be cute, but you're not too observant." "Huh?" I said again. I understood the words coming out of his mouth, but the meaning behind them was a mystery. It was like he was intentionally trying to confuse me. Leaning — Cookie O'Gorman

You don't understand," getting mad. "You guys, you're like Puritans are about the Bible. So hung up with words, words. You know where that play exists, not in that file cabinet, not in any paperback you're looking for, but - " a hand emerged from the veil of shower-steam to indicate his suspended head - "in here. That's what I'm for. To give the spirit flesh. The words, who cares? They're rote noises to hold line bashes with, to get past the bone barrier around an actor's memory, right? But the reality is in this head. Mine. I'm the projector at the planetarium, all the closed little universe visible in the circle of that stage is coming out of my mouth, eyes, sometimes other orifices also. — Thomas Pynchon

Please bring strange things.
Please come bringing new things.
Let very old things come into your hands.
Let what you do not know come into your eyes.
Let desert sand harden your feet.
Let the arch of your feet be the mountains.
Let the paths of your fingertips be your maps
And the ways you go be the lines of your palms.
Let there be deep snow in your inbreathing
And your outbreath be the shining of ice.
May your mouth contain the shapes of strange words.
May you smell food cooking you have not eaten.
May the spring of a foreign river be your navel.
May your soul be at home where there are no houses.
Walk carefully, well-loved one,
Walk mindfully, well-loved one,
Walk fearlessly, well-loved one.
Return with us, return to us,
Be always coming home.
Ursula K. Leguin — Ursula K. Le Guin

Tyler's words coming out of my mouth. I used to be such a nice person. — Chuck Palahniuk

Hamilton found it difficult to concentrate on what Eliza was saying. Her lips were moving rapidly, but he couldn't actually decipher what the words coming out of her mouth were. It was such a lovely mouth, and he found it quite quirky, given the fact that it could assume different positions with alarming frequency. Like now, it was pursed in a most attractive manner, and now ... it was moving again as if the lady could not get the words out fast enough. His gaze traveled upward, past the eyes that were flashing and settled on her hair. He couldn't help but appreciate the efforts of Mabel. The curls she'd been able to produce on Eliza's head, well, they were tantalizing. He had the strangest urge to reach out and touch them, to feel with his own hand if they were as soft as they appeared, something he'd been contemplating ever since he got a good look at her in the dining room. He pulled abruptly back to reality when Eliza poked him in the chest. — Jen Turano

She cackles and her accent is so thick that I feel bad for the words coming out of her mouth. — Caroline Kepnes