You Moved Away Quotes & Sayings

Who the fuck are you? Davy, were you on a fucking date?" Kurt wasn't sure how to express the anger coursing through him without an assault charge, and even though the asshole was no longer kissing or touching Davy, he was getting more irate.

"What the fuck Kurt?"

Ripping his mouth away, Davy panted. "What the fuck are you doing?"

"Kissing you." Or perhaps devouring.

"What makes it okay for you to kiss me and not Andrew?" The words weren't a simple question, but a sneering mockery. Kurt's anger returned full force and his hands moved to Davy's hair, yanking his mouth back within easy reach. "You're mine," he snarled before shoving his tongue back in Davy's mouth. — K.C. Burn

The ferry master moved away to lower the bow ramp onto the sand. He'd taken three paces when he heard a loud splash behind him. He swung around to see Ergon's head bobbing to the surface next to the stern of the punt, his arms thrashing widely as the shock of the cold sea water revived him.
Crowley grinned at the ferry master. 'Thought a little swim might do him good' he said.
Ergon was already floundering his way towards the beach. He was in waist-deep water now and in no danger of growing. Sodden and spluttering, he staggered up the sand and stood, glaring at Crowley and dripping water.
'I'll kill you for that!' he snarled
Crowley raised an eyebrow. 'So you keep saying'
He snapped his fingers at the two horses and they followed him down the ramp onto the land. The ferry master watched with interest. He'd never seen a Ranger tossed overboard before- particularly by another Ranger. — John Flanagan

My second point, in fact, was something the convicts had taught me. They all believed that the White people who insisted that it was their Constitutional right to keep military weapons in their homes all looked forward to the day when they could shot Americans who didn't have what they had, who didn't look like their friends and relatives, in a sort of open-air shooting gallery we used to call in Vietnam a "Free Fire Zone." You could shoot anything that moved, for the good of the greater society, which was always someplace far away, like Paradise. — Kurt Vonnegut

You know those giant stuffed-animal prizes at the carnival? The kind practically nobody wins, except the lucky few? I've never won one."
"Yeah. I've never won one, either."
"Alex was my giant prize. I hated you for taking him away," she admits.
I shrug. "Yeah, well, stop hating me. I don't have him, either."
"I don't hate you anymore," she says. "I've moved on."
I swallow and then say, "Me, too."
Carmen chuckles. Then, just as she walks out of the room, I hear her mumble, "Alex sure as hell hasn't. — Simone Elkeles

Tugging her arm free of his, she moved over to a stone bench flanked by some exotic-looking red flowers and took a seat. She was not amused when he took a seat right beside her, crowding her in the process. "When did you get so large?" she asked, scooting as casually as she could away from him, not allowing herself to dwell on why his nearness was bothering her. "When I began working in a steel mill." Wilhelmina — Jen Turano

I started to grin until I heard laughing and sensed we were on display.
Glancing at them, I tightened my grip on Judd as if to say, "So what? He's mine. Suck it."
Judd though wasn't interested in their laughter. He glared hard at them and literally growled like a dog.
While I giggled at the sound, the men shut up and moved away.
When Vaughn saw this display, he yelled out, "Whipped is a good look on you, brother."
"I'm packing, Outlaw. Don't make me pull it out."
At the same moment, Judd, Vaughn, and I thought of the same thing and started laughing.
"Yeah, don't pull it out here, baby," I said, giggling. "I'm the only one who should be looking at it."
Judd leaned his head back and sighed. "It's not my fault, you know. All of the blood left my brain the minute you sat on my lap."
"Poor bastard," I whispered in his ear as I nibbled on the lobe. — Bijou Hunter

All that we had, every moment we shared, it meant everything to me. Everything you felt, I felt it, too. It was the hardest thing to do, to walk away from you, from us, but I had to do it, because you deserve so much more. And I hope you see that. I hope that you've moved on and found some guy who treats you like the amazingly beautiful girl you are. And that he knows how lucky he is to have you. I hope he appreciates every single thing about you. And I hope that he loves you and gives you the world, Amanda. Because I would have. — Jay McLean

When you're the youngest and the only boy, you get spoilt but you get told you're spoilt so you don't get to enjoy it very much. I was the only man in the house because my parents divorced and my dad moved away when I was 13. — Eddie Marsan

They both walked to the center of the room. Jonas put his tunic back on. 'Goodbye, sir,' he said. 'Thank you for my first day.'
The old man nodded to him. He looked drained, and a little sad.
'Sir?' Jonas said shyly.
'Yes? Do you have a question?'
'It's just that I don't know your name. I thought you were The Receiver, but you say that now I'm The Receiver. So I don't know what to call you.'
The man had sat back down in the comfortable upholstered chair. He moved his shoulders around as if to ease away an aching sensation. He seemed terribly weary.
'Call me The Giver,' he told Jonas. — Lois Lowry

He moved very quickly to her and put his arms around her. And there was hunger and eagerness in his body and in his face.
"Not angry," he said. "No, not angry. And still, angry."
He stroked her cheek.
"Angry at time when you were away. Angry at time. Irritated with the minutes when you aren't with me."
"I like that," she said. "It's good to be missed. I came back as soon as I could. It's good to be away a little. Then I know how well and strongly I love you."
He strained her tight to him.
"I get frightened," he said. "My mind plays games, it whispers that you don't exist, it sneers that you'd gone away, it whines to me that there's no Mordeen. It's a cruel and mischievous game. — John Steinbeck

Savannah moved gracefully, going directly across the darkened street, heading for the shadows of the square. She was very much aware of Gregori still close to her, his body protective. For a moment she thought he brushed her shoulder with his hand, the sensation was so real, but when she turned her head, he was several feet behind.
Go, ma petite, take Gary to the house.Do not allow the neighbors to see either of you.And place the safeguards carefully.
What about you?
There is no safeguard I cannot unravel. Go now. This time, there was so mistake. He was four feet away, already turning away from her, but she felt his mouth burning possessively on hers, lingering for just a moment, his tongue tracing the curve of her lip. She couldn't believe he could make her want him, burn for him, when he was going off into the night alone to fight their enemies.
The night has always been mine, Savannah.Do not waste your time worrying about me. — Christine Feehan

He extricated himself from her encircling arm and she moaned a little and curled away from him. He moved close again, foetally fitting himself to her shape, wrapping his arm around her waist. She awoke briefly and clasped his hand tightly to her belly, and murmured sleepily, 'I do love you Martin.'
Choked, he buried his face in the smooth nape of her neck, and summoned the courage to tell her what he hadn't dared say; that he loved her too, more than he could ever have imagined possible. — John Needham

He arched a taunting brow. "Is that why you have yet to climb off me?" Desideria was horrified as she realized she hadn't moved. Every bit of her body was lying against his hard, muscled one. And honestly, it felt good. Real good. Her face heating, she practically jumped away. "Ah now that's just rude," he groused. "You know I did take a bath and everything. Several hours ago, but still." He flipped to his feet, then grimaced as if he'd struck his leg the wrong way before he limped over to secure the door. Even — Sherrilyn Kenyon

Because the church has moved away from the gospel anytime you move away from the gospel, you at the same time move toward pretense, you move toward image-keeping, you move toward the need to pretend. — Tullian Tchividjian

He smiled, and, drawing his own knife, he continued talking. It can cut you as easily as it will cut your opponent: keep it away from your fingers. The second thing to remember is that you can do a lot of damage with it just by holding in your hand and punching.
He closed his hand into a fist and demonstrated with an imaginary opponent. He moved with swift efficiency and his imaginary foe's instant death was obvious. — Patricia Briggs

I'm not sure what exactly you think we've been through. We were best friends, then we were a couple, then my momma got sick and you needed your dick sucked so you cheated on me. I took care of my sick momma alone. No one to lean on. Then she died and I moved. I got my heart and world shattered and came home. You've been here for me. I didn't ask you to but you have. I'm thankful for that but it doesn't make all that other stuff go away. It doesn't make up for the fact you deserted me when I needed you the most. So excuse me if when my world is once again about to be jerked out from under me that you aren't the first person I run to. You haven't earned that yet. — Abbi Glines

Truth or Dare?" she asks. I hesitate. "Truth," I say finally. "I can imagine one of your dares, and I don't fancy running down Oxford Street naked tonight."
"Truth," Alice says slowly, drawing out the vowel sound as if she's savouring the word. "Are you sure? Are you sure you can be completely honest?"
"I think so. Try me."
"Okay" And then she looks at me curiously. "So. Were you glad, deep down? Were you glad to be rid of her? Your perfect sister? Were you secretly glad when she died?"
Katherine has moved away from her shattered family to start afresh in Sydney. There she keeps her head down until she is befriended by the charismatic, party-loving Alice, who brings her out of her shell. But there is a dark side to Alice, something seductive yet threatening. And as Katherine learns the truth about Alice, their tangled destinies spiral to an explosive and devastating finale. — Rebecca James

I keep my eyes down, looking now at my fingers as they twist the fabric into a knot."I'm sorry. About the way I acted yesterday." When I straighten up, Ky has already moved on.
"Don't be," Ky says, pulling a tangle of climbing green vines away from a shrub so that we can pass through. He throws the vines at me and I catch them in surprise. "It's good to see you jealous once in a while." He smiles, — Ally Condie

I never meant to fall in love with you. But I did. I felt it the first night I made love to you. I tried to walk away then because I've never felt so lost and yet so fucking found as I felt that night looking into your eyes as I moved inside you. — Samantha Young

She slumped a little when she saw me and shot the wolves a siren grin.
"You're so screwed," she declared.
"My sister is going to kick your asses!" ... .
The wolves hackles collectively rose as they set their diabolic sights on me.
They moved as a single unit away from Taran and toward their newest prey.
Thanks, Taran. — Cecy Robson

Sometimes ... it seems as though not a moment has moved, but then you look up and you're already old or you already have a household of kids or you look down and see your feet are miles and miles away from the rest of you - and you realize you've grown up. — Jacqueline Woodson

Bran tore his eyes away from the monster. That was when he noticed the bundle in Robb's arms. He gave a cry of delight and moved closer. The pup was a tiny ball of grey-black fur, its eyes still closed. It nuzzled blindly against Robb's chest as he cradled it, searching for milk among his leathers, making a sad little whimpery sound. Bran reached out hesitantly. "Go on," Robb told him. "You can touch him." Bran — George R R Martin

Some cognitive scientists believe human response to music provides evidence that we are more than just flesh and blood - that we also have souls. Their thinking is as follows: All reactions to external stimuli can be traced back to an evolutionary rationale. You pull your hand away from fire to avoid physical harm. You get butterflies before an important speech because the adrenaline running through your veins has caused a physiological fight-or-flight response. But there is no evolutionary context within which people's response to music makes sense - the tapping of a foot, the urge to sing along or get up and dance, there's just no survival benefit to these activities. For this reason, some believe that our response to music is proof that there's more to us than just biological and physiological mechanics - that the only way to be moved by the spirit, so to speak, is to have one in the first place. There — Jodi Picoult

I respect you more than that."
I almost fell off the couch. I parted my hair and looked up at him, but he was no longer squatting in front of me. He'd stood and moved away.
"Are we, like, having a conversation?"
"Did you just, like, ask me for advice and listen with an open mind? Is so, then yes, I would call this a conversation. I can see how you might not recognize it, considering all I usually get from you is attitude and hostility-"
"Oh! All I ever get from you is hostility and-"
"And here we go. She's bristling and my hackles go up. Bloody hell, I feel fangs coming on. — Karen Marie Moning

If you feel far from God right now, guess who moved? You're only a decision away from reconnecting. — Anne Graham Lotz

If one day I was taken away ... would you wait for me to come back?"
Concerned moved across his face. "Where are you going?"
"Just tell me, please. I need to know, without telling you anything else."
"No."
I swallowed and blinked back tears.
"I'd go after you," he said. — Kelly Parra

He reached over and took Taylor's hand. She did not pull her hand away.
He moved his hand up her arm. She stiffened a little and glanced around, making sure they weren't seen. Or, maybe, hoping they were.
His hand reached her neck. He leaned toward her and pulled her to him.
He kissed her.
She kissed him back.
He kissed her harder. And she slid her hand under his shirt, fingers stroking his bare flesh.
Then he pulled away, fast.
"Sorry, I . . ." He hesitated, his wallowing brain arguing against a body that was suddenly aflame.
Sam stood up very suddenly and walked away.
Taylor laughed gaily at his back. "Come see me when you get tired of mooning over the ice princess, Sam. — Michael Grant

China also has moved away from its original status of purely producing basic, what you call, consumer commodities and Chinese companies are moving beyond China to various parts of the world. — Sellapan Ramanathan

You are hard at work madam ," said the man near her.
Yes," Answered Madam Defarge ; " I have a good deal to do."
What do you make, Madam ?"
Many things."
For instance
"
For instance," returned Madam Defarge , composedly ,
Shrouds."
The man moved a little further away, as soon as he could, feeling it mightily close and oppressive . — Charles Dickens

Ronan, taking in Blue's posture and Gansey below, observed, "If you spit, Blue, it would land right in his eye."
Gansey moved to the opposite side of the bed with surprising swiftness, glancing at Adam and away again as quickly. — Maggie Stiefvater

Thia pulled Darice away from Hauk. "Son, we need to talk about your inability to sense near-death experiences." "What are you talking about?" Thia glanced back to Hauk, who still hadn't moved. He hadn't even blinked. "Can you not see how pissed off he is?" "So?" Rolling her eyes, Thia sighed. "You're an idiot, Darice. I seriously hope you have no intention of entering any kind of military service." He lifted his chin defiantly. "Of course, I am. I'm Andarion. I'm going to be a fighter pilot like my parents." "No, punkin'." She patted him on the cheek. "With those well-honed survival instincts, you're going to be a bright stain on someone's blast shield." Darice — Sherrilyn Kenyon

You know what they say about living well as the best revenge. I did well because it was the one defense I had. Escape has been the motivating force in my life. Getting away from him, getting away from her, putting that household behind me. The funny this is, I haven't moved an inch, and the harder I run, the faster I keep slipping back to them ... There are laws for everything except the harm families do. — Sue Grafton

I also had to detach myself from my thoughts through turning my desire away from them. And at once, I noticed that my self became a desert, where only the sun of unquiet desire burned. I was overwhelmed by the endless infertility of this desert. Even if something could have thrived there, the creative power of desire was still absent. Wherever the creative power of desire is, there springs the soil's own seed. But do not forget to wait. Did you not see that when your creative force turned to the world, how the dead things moved under it and through it, how they grew and prospered, and hour your thoughts flowed in rich rivers? If your creative force now turns to the place of the soul, you will see how your soul becomes green and how its field bears wonderful fruit. — C. G. Jung

God help me, I do care about you. Gently hugging her against his chest, he tenderly moved her hair away from her angelic face. Seeing her sleep, peaceful and trusting, his thoughts of waking
her for his desires were quickly replaced. — Aleatha Romig

The smell of cigarette smoke in the air in a tavern that changes names often,
a bar cursed because of a girl who died of a drug overdose
in the basement, we put a few coins in the jukebox;
chose "Angel Band" by Johnny Cash and sat down at the bar,
ordered a soda, you wanted a whiskey on the rocks.
We saw the coal miner who moved here from West Virginia
knocking back liquor like I drink sweet tea.
No one asked why he was so solemn today.
It was warm. It was relatively quiet.
To anyone else, this place could feel sinister.
But to us, it was freedom. It was a hiding place.
No one was ever here long enough to know us.
And we liked it that way. — Taylor Rhodes

In December, at the darkest time of the year, Olenka delivered triplets. Mother-in-law came by and called Benedikt in to come look at the brood. She congratulated him. He lay there, empty and heavy-hearted, waiting for the signal; and there wasn't any. All right then, he'd go take a look.
There were three kids: one appeared to be female, she was tiny and cried. Another seemed to be a boy, but it was hard to tell right off. The third
well, you couldn't figure out what it was
to look at, it was a fuzzy, scary-looking ball. All round-like, but with eyes. They picked it up in their arms to rock it, and started singing: "Bye Baby Bunting, Daddy's gone a-hunting ... " and with a shove it pushed away, jumped on the floor, rolled off, and disappeared into a crack in the floor. They all rushed to catch it, their hands outstretched. They moved stools and benches
but no luck. — Tatyana Tolstaya

Listen, she said, "cherubim have come to my planet before."
"I know that. Where do you think I got my information?"
"What do you know about us?"
"I have heard that your host planet is shadowed, that it is troubled."
"It is beautiful," Meg said defensively.
She felt a rippling of his wings. "In the middle of your cities?"
"Well-no-but I don't live in a city."
"And is your planet peaceful?"
"Well-no-it isn't very peaceful."
"I had the idea," Proginoskes moved reluctantly within her mind, "that there are wars on your planet. People fighting and killing each other."
"Yes, that's so, but-"
"And children go hungry."
"Yes."
"And people don't understand each other."
"Not always."
"And there's-there's hate?"
"Yes."
She felt Proginoskes pulling away. "All I want to do," he was murmuring to himself, "is go some place quiet and recite the names of the stars... — Madeleine L'Engle

(Honor)"You had told me that if you didn't return within a few minutes of ten o'clock, I was to drive away and get as far from Tambour as possible. So, for all you knew, that's what I had done. After nearly dying in that explosion, with a burn on your shoulder, and your hair singed, you could have run in any given direction in order to get away, but you didn't. When you found me on the railroad tracks, you were racing back to the garage. To me."
He didn't say anything, but his jaw tensed.
She smiled and moved closer to him, aligning her body along his. "You don't have to give me flowers, Coburn. You don't even have to hold me." She laid her head on his chest just below his chin. Her hand curved around his neck. "Let me hold you. — Sandra Brown

Casey glanced at her plate again, recalling the posters of her elementary school lunchroom: YOU ARE WHAT YOU EAT. So, how much you ate indicated the quantity of your desire. Walter was also implying that how quickly you got your food revealed the likelihood of achieving your goals. She was in fact terribly hungry, but she'd pretended to be otherwise to be ladylike and had moved away from the table to be agreeable, and now she'd continue to be hungry (Free Food For Millionaires, p.92.) — Min Jin Lee

Hermione slid out of her bunk and moved like a sleepwalker towards Ron, her eyes upon his pale face. She stopped right in front of him, her lips slightly parted, her eyes wide. Ron gave a weak, hopeful smile and half-raised his arms.
Hermione launched herself forwards and started punching every inch of him that she could reach.
'Ouch - ow - gerroff! What the - ? Hermione - OW!'
"You - complete - arse - Ronald - Weasley!"
She punctuated every word with a blow: Ron backed away, shielding his head as Hermione advanced.
"You - crawl - back - here - after - weeks - and - weeks - oh, where's my wand?"
She looked as though ready to wrestle it out of Harry's hands and he reacted instinctively.
"Protego! — J.K. Rowling

My mother passed away, my marriage ended, and I moved. Those are some pretty big things to let go of. But I find that if you hold on to something too tightly, you strangle it and yourself. If you don't let go, and let things go through you, it's toxic - physically. — Ingrid Michaelson

Jace set what he was holding down on the windowsill and reached out to her. She came to lean against him, and his hand slid up under her t-shirt and rested caressingly, possessively, on the small of her back. He bent to kiss her, gently at first, but the gentleness went quickly and soon she was pressed up against the glass of the window, his hands at the hem of her shirt - his shirt
"Jace." She moved a little bit away. "I'm pretty sure people down there in the street can see us."
"We could ... " He gestured toward the bed. "Move ... over there."
She grinned. "You said that like it took you a while to come up with the idea."
When he spoke, his voice was muffled against her neck. "What can I say, you make my thought processes slow down. Now I know what it's like to be a normal person."
"How ... is it?" The things he was doing with his hands under the t-shirt were distracting.
"Terrible. I'm already way behind on my quota of witty comments for the day. — Cassandra Clare

The cell is a city of production centres, each part working away like mad, and it's co-ordinated. Six trillion cells in a body - you can't help but be moved. — Charles Jencks

I rose and moved towards him. You would have done the same yourself. It is an ancient matter. Something propels you towards sudden grief, or perhaps also sometimes repels. You move away. I moved towards it, I couldn't help it. — Sebastian Barry

Her newly revealed skin was white and luminous, her body tender and abundantly curved... He closed his eyes briefly, striving to subdue this violent passion. When he opened them again, Vivien had moved away from him and hastily climbed into bed, pulling the linens over her nakedness. Her bashfulness was so genuine, so... well, virginal, that he wondered if this was what she had been like long ago, before embarking on her career as a courtesan.
"Don't cover yourself," he murmured. "Your body is too beautiful to be concealed."
The bedsheets did not lower an in inch. "I'm cold," she said breathlessly, her cheeks flushed.
"I'll warm you," he promised with a quick grin, stripping off his coat. — Lisa Kleypas

You drive like a maniac," I said through clenched teeth.
"That's not the only thing I do like a maniac, Brooke." His hand moved away from the steering wheel and settled on my thigh. — J.C. Reed

You are told from the moment you enter school that time is constant. It never changes. It is one of those set things in life that you can always rely on ... much like death and taxes. There will always be sixty seconds in a minute. There will always be sixty minutes in an hour. And there will always be twenty-four hours in a day.
Time was not fluctuating. It moved on at the same, constant pace at every moment in your life.
And that was the biggest load of crap that I'd ever been taught in school.
Truth was, time did fluctuate. It was easy to lose hours or even days in a blink of an eye. Other times, it was a struggle to get through a mere hour. It ebbed and flowed as relentlessly as the
tides, and just as powerfully too. The moments that you wanted to last forever were the ones that were washed away all too soon. The moments that you wanted to speed up, were slowed down to a snail's pace.
That was the truth of the matter. — S.C. Stephens

We'll stay tonight. Then I'll see."
Thank God. He nodded, then moved rather stiffly to her side.
She hesitated. "I'm sorry I had to be so ... firm."
"Liar," he grumbled. "You're not the least bit sorry."
A faint smile touched her lips. "All right, so I'm not."
He offered her his arm. "Where did you learn that, anyway?"
"One of my older male cousins showed me what to do if some man ever tried anything."
At least her zealousness in protecting herself would keep him from letting his attraction to her run away with him. Any woman who was willing to do that to a man was trouble, and he wasn't about to give her a second crack at the family jewels. — Sabrina Jeffries

I watched her - the way her shoulders moved with the tilt of her head, how her smile lit up the six people around her, how her hair, tucked behind her ears, framed her face like baby's breath. I thought about how the sound of her heart beating sounded the rhythm for our dance atop the magnolia floor. I wanted to tell her all this, but didn't know how. Just because something is broken doesn't mean it's no good. Doesn't mean you throw it away. It just means it's broken, and broken is okay. I wanted to tell her that broken is still beautiful, still works, still wakes me in the morning, and at the end of every day past and those to come, I can love broken. — Charles Martin

Is there any point asking what you're going to make me do on Sunday?'
'Not really.'
Okay. 'Is there any point asking what you're going to do to me?'
He grinned wickedly. 'Not really.'
Fabulous. 'Does it involve the use of a safe word?'
'That will depend entirely on you.' Noah moved impossibly closer, just inches away. A few freckles disappeared into the scruff on his jaw. 'I'll be gentle,' Noah added. My breath caught in my throat as he looked at me from beneath those lashes, ruining me.
I narrowed my eyes at him. 'You're evil.'
In response, Noah smiled, and raised his finger to gently tap the tip of my nose. 'And you're mine,' he said, then walked away. — Michelle Hodkin

My fingers gripped his sweaty T-shirt. I kept kissing
Eagan until he groaned softly in his sleep.
"I love you," I murmured against his lips.
I moved away from him. I forced myself to stand, I
grabbed my guitar case and I left.
On the bus, I kept licking my lips; I tasted him, the salt
of his sweat, and a hint of cinnamon. — Petra March

I'm here, Sorcha.
I would not believe it at first; it had been so long since he had touched my mind in this way.
I'm here. Try to let go, dear one. I know how it hurts. Lean on me; let me take your burden for a while.
I could scarcely see him; he was on the far side of the fire, behind the others and half turned away, with his head still in his hands. It seemed as if he had scarcely moved at all.
How can you? How can you know?
I know. Let me help you.
I felt the strength of his mind flow into mine, and somehow he managed to close off the terrible, the dark and secret things that he had dreaded sharing with me, and fill my head with pictures of all that was good and brave. — Juliet Marillier

There are books so alive that you're always afraid that while you weren't reading, the book has gone and changed, has shifted like a river; while you went on living, it went on living too, and like a river moved on and moved away. No one has stepped twice into the same river. But did anyone ever step twice into the same book? — Marina Tsvetaeva

Hunter scooped her up into his arms as if she weighed nothing and carried her over to the bed. He laid her down and then moved behind her to spoon her, his arm holding her close to his chest. His lips brushed her ear. "Before you push me away, you have my word that once you're asleep, I'll go in the other room, okay?" ...

Without moving, she whispered into the darkness, "What if I don't want you to go? — Lisa Kessler

He looked up and caught me staring, and for the first time that morning, neither of us looked away until Erin said, "J - pay attention! Just try to slap me." I broke the stare and turned to her. She moved around to face me, her back to Lucas, and rolled her eyes. "Does the concept of playing hard-to-get totally escape you?" she whispered. "Let. Him. Chase."

"I'm not playing that game any longer."

She glanced over her shoulder and back. "Girlfriend, I don't think he knows that."

I shrugged. — Tammara Webber

How are you, Rory?' [the Doctor] asked.
I [Rory] ... answered him. 'It's been odd being you.'
'Isn't it?' The Doctor's smile didn't quite reach his eyes.
'How do you cope?'
'Ah ... ' The Doctor picked away at a scrap of loose paint on the door. 'Well, I just get as close as I can to a happy ending, then I shut the door behind me and move on.'
I nodded.
We shut the door behind us and moved on. — James Goss

There was no control except the mood of his power ... and it is for this reason it is good you never heard him play someplace where the weather for instance could change the next series of notes
then you should never have heard him at all. He was never recorded. He stayed away while others moved into wax history, electronic history, those who said later that Boldon broke the path. It was just as important to watch him stretch and wheel around the last notes or to watch nerves jumping under the sweat of his head. — Michael Ondaatje

Who Moved My Cheese?: The Story ONCE, long ago in a land far away, there lived four little characters who ran through a Maze looking for cheese to nourish them and make them happy. Two were mice, named "Sniff" and "Scurry" and two were Littlepeople - beings who were as small as mice but who looked and acted a lot like people today. Their names were "Hem" and "Haw." Due to their small size, it would be easy not to notice what the four of them were doing. But if you looked closely enough, you could discover the most amazing things! Every day the mice and the Littlepeople spent time in the Maze looking for their own special cheese. The mice, Sniff and Scurry, possessing simple brains and good instincts, searched for the hard — Spencer Johnson

Your camouflage and your world is created by conscious focusing and unconscious concentration. Only by turning your head away for a moment can you see what is beneath the seemingly solid pattern. By plunging into our ocean of value climate you can dive beneath your camouflage system and look up to see it, relatively foundationless, floating above you, moved, formed and directed by the shifting illusions caused by the wind of will, and the force of subconscious concentration and demand. — Jane Roberts

He hadn't moved. All the crazy-hot activity in the kitchen - waitresses going in and out, cooks going back and forth, the constant thump of barbecue being hand-chopped - and he was so still. She had to quickly turn away. Staring at an Alexander man too long was like staring at the sun. The image became imprinted. You could close your eyes and still see him. — Sarah Addison Allen

For you must know, my dear ones, that each of us is undoubtedly guilty on behalf of all and for all on earth, not only because of the common guilt of the world, but personally, each one of us, for all people and for each person on this earth. This knowledge is the crown of the monk's path, and of every man's path on earth. For monks are not a different sort of men, but only such as all men on earth ought also to be. Only then will our hearts be moved to a love that is infinite, universal, and that knows no satiety. Then each of us will be able to gain the whole world by love and wash away the world's sins with his tears ... — Fyodor Dostoyevsky

I'll find you, Will!
Then the wind filled the big, square sail of the wolfship and she heeled away from the shore, moving faster and faster towards the northeast.
For a long time after she'd dropped below the horizon, the sodden figure sat there, his horse chest-deep in the rolling waves, staring after the ship.
And his lips still moved, in a silent promis only he could hear. — John Flanagan

Why are you looking at me like that?' he asked, his hand tensing for a second on my hip.
"No reason.' I moved my hand up his chest and on the way his abs contracted.
He pushed me away abruptly, forcing me to sit up with him. With the scruff hiding parts of his cheeks I wasn't sure, but he seemed to be blushing. "You shouldn't touch a man like that in the morning,' he rasped, his hand hiding his crotch. — Stephanie Witter

You're imprinted all over me. I see my life and you're always there. When you were born, when you moved away, and my world became nothing but shades of gray. Then you came back, and I didn't understand then like I do now why I suddenly came back to life. The first night we kissed, the first night we made love. — Marie Hall

She started to turn around, but I tugged her hand just enough for me to see her profile as she closed her eyes. She felt it as just like I did. There was an undeniable connection between us. I pulled her into my arms and with one hand moved the stray strands of her caramel hair away from her soft skin. I saw her mouth was slightly agape, and I pulled her face towards mine. I was mere centimeters from her lips, the warmth of her breath sliding against my own.
"You should go Mylie or you might regret staying," I said softly.
"I don't want to go," she said anxiously.
Damn. — H.P. Landry

It hurt when you pulled away from me this year. We were already separated. You moved in with David and my mom moved back. Mason left me too. It wasn't just you. I needed you this year. I don't let people in, Sam, but I let you in. We both let you in. It fucking hurt. That's all I'm saying. — Tijan

Grant-"
But he barely touched her, only cupping her face as they stood beside the bed. "You're beautiful." His eyes were on hers,intense,searching. "The first time I saw you,you took my breath away. You still do."
As moved by the long look and soft words as she had been by the tempestuous kisses, she reached up to take his wrists. "I don't need the words unless you want to give them. I just want to be with you."
"Whatever I tell you will be the truth, or I won't tell you at all. — Nora Roberts

Good with languages," she murmured. With everything she learned about him, he got more and more interesting. Or more mysterious, depending on how you looked at it. "So, good with languages, shovels, and igloos. Anything else?"

The smug look he tossed at her was so wicked it shivered right down her spine. Walked right into that, hadn't she. She shook her head and, looking away to hide her blush, moved her cardboard forward one spot. Without a doubt, he would be good at...other stuff. Jesus. — Laura Kaye

No!" he cried and his face pinched with frustration and pain. "I don't want to hear more reasons why we shouldn't be together. No more confessions to explain why you want to run away from what we share."
"Julian," she attempted to interrupt again, but he held up a trembling hand.
His dark gaze held hers. "I have moved heaven and earth to bring you back to me. I refuse to let you leave again. You are mine and you shall be mine for the rest of my life. Not as my mistress, but as my wife. And if you don't say yes, I shall be forced to drag you into Hyde Park and make love to you in plain view of everyone. Then you will have to accept my proposal in order to save your reputation." His face softened. "I love you, Cecilia. — Jess Michaels

Praise is declaration, a victory cry, proclaiming faith to stand firm in the place God has given you. Praise is a proclamation that the enemy's intent to plunder you will not rock you. Praise declares that you will not be moved by the enemy's attempt to snatch you away. — Darlene Zschech

The sight made her ache. How can I not touch you? she thought hopelessly, and then she was doing it, her fingers on his wrist. He didn't jump or even look at her, just stopped writing. Neither one of them moved, nothing moved, and the whole thing lasted three or four seconds at most, but when Pen took her hand away and started to breathe again, her chest hurt, as though she had been holding her breath for a very long time. — Marisa De Los Santos

I was raised to believe that God has a plan for everyone and that seemingly random twists of fate are all a part of His plan. My mother - a small woman with auburn hair and a sense of optimism that ran as deep as the cosmos - told me that everything in life happened for a purpose. She said all things were part of God's Plan, even the most disheartening setbacks, and in the end, everything worked out for the best. If something went wrong, she said, you didn't let it get you down: You stepped away from it, stepped over it, and moved on. Later on, she added, something good will happen and you'll find yourself thinking - If I hadn't had that problem back then, then this better thing that did happen wouldn't have happened to me. — Ronald Reagan

Kelsea stared at it for a long moment, then turned to Pen.
"Go away."
"Lady - "
"What?"
Pen splayed his hands. "Things can't remain like this forever. We have to move past what happened."
"I have moved past it!"
"You haven't." Pen spoke quietly, but Kelsea heard the low hum of anger in his voice.
"It was a weak moment, and it won't repeat."
"I'm a Queen's Guard, Lady. You have to understand that."
"I understand that you're just like every other man in the world. Get out."
Pen's breath hissed through his teeth, and Kelsea was pleased to see real pain in his eyes for a moment before he retreated to his antechamber. — Erika Johansen

And this is because people are riddled by Doubt. It is the engine that drives them through their lives. It is the elastic band in the little model aeroplane of their soul, and they spend their time winding it up until it knots. Early morning is the worst time - there's that little moment of panic in case You have drifted away in the night and something else has moved in. — Terry Pratchett

He found his voice first, though it was a ragged whisper, "Thank you." If I'd had enough breath I'd have laughed. My throat was so dry, that my voice sounded stiff. "Trust me on this, Frost, it was my pleasure." He bent over and laid a kiss on my cheek. "I will try to do better next time." He moved his hands away from me, letting me move, but stayed sheathed inside me as if he were reluctant to let that go. I looked at him, thinking he was joking, but his face was utterly serious. "It gets better than this?" I asked. He nodded solemnly. "Oh, yes." "The queen was a fool," I said softly. He smiled then. "I always thought so. — Laurell K. Hamilton

I moved away from him, sitting back on my heels and raising my aim to his heart. "Happy anniversary, Frank."

In a flash, he had my gun away from me and I was flat on the floor with his boot against my throat. "You point a gun at me again, I will break your neck. — Nicole Castle

Not long after he moved, the mail carrier got embroiled in a battle with the Middletown government over the flock of chickens that he kept in his yard. He treated them just as Mamaw had treated her chickens back in the holler: Every morning he collected all the eggs, and when his chicken population grew too large, he'd take a few of the old ones, wring their necks, and carve them up for meat right in his backyard. You can just imagine a well-bred housewife watching out the window in horror as her Kentucky-born neighbor slaughtered squawking chickens just a few feet away. My sister and I still call the old mail carrier "the chicken man," and years later even a mention of how the city government ganged up on the chicken man could inspire Mamaw's trademark vitriol: "Fucking zoning laws. They can kiss my ruby-red asshole." The — J.D. Vance

Circenn moved swiftly, intending to catch the tear upon his finger, kiss it away, then kiss away all her pain and fear, and assure her that he would permit no harm to touch her and would spend his life making things up to her; but she dropped the flask onto the table and turned swiftly.
"Please, leave me alone," she said and turned away from him. "Let me comfort you, Lisa," he entreated.
"Leave me alone."
For the first time in his life, Circenn
felt utterly helpless. Let her grieve, his heart instructed. She would need to grieve, for discovering that the flask didn't work was tantamount to lowering her mother into a solitary grave. She would grieve her mother as if she'd in truth died that very day. May God
forgive me, he prayed. I did not know what I was doing when I cursed that flask. — Karen Marie Moning

Cosmo never speaks to my life. Its surveys always ask questions like How would you react if your lover announced he was taking a job in Alaska? and jumping for joy is never one of the options. Move to Alaska? Hell, my lover was thirty-seven and hadn't moved away from home yet. Where were the questions relevant to my life? — Kelley Armstrong

The stranger says there are no more couches and he will have to
sleep in your bed. You try to warn him, you tell him
you will want to get inside him, and ruin him,
but he doesn't listen.
You do this, you do. You take the things you love
and tear them apart
or you pin them down with your body and pretend they're yours.
So, you kiss him, and he doesn't move, he doesn't
pull away, and you keep on kissing him. And he hasn't moved,
he's frozen, and you've kissed him, and he'll never
forgive you, and maybe now he'll leave you alone. — Richard Siken

The Coffee Guy, whose name is Rosie by the way, has moved to El Salvador.' I lied.
This was not met with happy noises.
'He's turned his back on coffee and is in the wilds of Central America building houses for the poor. I think we should all take a moment away from our quest for coffee-satisfaction and think about this noble decision. As you clamor for caffeine and curse the hard-working but innocent staff at my store, Rosie is sitting in the bed of a beat-up pickup bumping across roads to make one room homes out of mud for those who have nothing at all — Kristen Ashley

I slowly became aware, but only in my head, of something about "the first love" and "the second love." Let me explain. I became more and more intellectually clear that the first love comes from the ultimate life force we call God, who has loved me unconditionally before others knew or loved me. "I have loved you with an everlasting love." And I saw that the second love, the love of parents, family, and friends, was only a modified expression of the first love. I reasoned that the source of my suffering was the fact that I expected from the second love what only the first love could give. When I hoped for total self- giving and unconditional love from another human being who was imperfect and limited in ability to love, I was asking for the impossible. I knew from experience that the more I demanded, the more others moved away, cut loose, got angry, or left me, and the more I experienced anguish and the pain of rejection. But I felt helpless to change my behavior. — Henri J.M. Nouwen

Are you not moved to tears and bitter compassion, when you behold the only Son of God seized by the most impious, dragged away, mocked, scourged, buffeted, spit upon, crowned with thorns, hung upon the infamous cross between two thieves, finally in such a horrible and execrable manner suffering death, for your salvation and that of the world? — Peter Abelard

Me? Rebuild" I shook my head."First off, I don't know anything about construction or reconstruction. And second, have you been down there? Have you seen it? So many people haven't moved back or rebuilt, and I totally get it. Why invest all that time and money when each hurricane season brings a new threat?"
Aimee regarded me with a steady blue gaze. "Why build skyscrapers in San Francisco that might be knocked down by an earthquake? Or why build farms in Kansas and Oklahoma that might get blown away by a tornado?" She snorted, and it seemed so uncharacteristic for the elegant old woman that I almost laughed. "Where did they want us to go, anyway? I figure if we're still breathing, then we're meant to keep going. So we rebuild. We start over. It's just what we do. — Karen White

Mayors could never get away with the kind of nonsense that goes on in Washington. In our world, you either picked up the trash or you didn't. You either moved an abandoned car or you didn't. You either filled a pothole or you didn't. That's what we do every day. And we know how to get this stuff done. — Michael Nutter

Nick advanced slowly and she backed away. Not out of fear, but out of excitement at the heat in his eyes. She stopped when her back hit the wall and, a second later, Nick's hands slapped against the wall on either side of her head.

His head moved down as her eyelids drifted closed. Her head fell back, tipped against the wall. She expected one of his bone-melting kisses, but he stopped just before fitting his mouth to hers. She could feel his hot breath washing over her face.

"Hello, gorgeous," he whispered.

Charity smiled without opening her eyes. "Hello," she whispered back.

"Did you miss me?"

Every cell in her body had missed him. "You have no idea."

Nick leaned in, pressing his entire body against hers. "Oh yeah," he said softly. "I have an idea. — Lisa Marie Rice

He hesitated for a moment. Then he said softly, 'I love you, Mother.' He took my hand and kissed it, and folded my fingers round the stem of the rose. He had stripped it of its thorns.
I was too moved to speak. But maternal affection was not the only emotion that prevented utterance; as I watched him walk away, his head high and his step firm, anger boiled within me. I knew I had to conquer it before I saw Nefret again, or I would take her by the shoulders and shake her, and demand that she love my son! — Elizabeth Peters

Apparently, I'm a senstive guy. You didn't notice that about me right away?" He moved closer, carefully, slowly encroaching on her space. "I cry at chick flicks and weddings. — Stephanie Rowe

Who are you calling beef-witted?" she laughed at him. "Your mother was a hamster, and your father stank of elderberries!" And away they went, whirling and stabbing with their brooms, almost dancing as they moved about the field. She — Cynthia Hand

Tell her I'm sorry I sold the diamond, eh?" Sammy said. "I broke my promise. When she disappeared in Alaska ... ah, so long ago, I finally used that diamond, moved to Texas as I always dreamed. I started my machine shop. Started my family! It was a good life, but Haze; was right. The diamond came with a curse. I never saw her again."
"Oh, Sammy," Hazel said. "No, a curse didn't keep me away. I wanted to come back. I died!"
The old man didn't seem to hear. He smiled down at the baby, and kissed him on the head. "I give you my blessing, Leo. First male great-grandchild! I have a feeling you are special, like Hazel was. You are more than a regular baby, eh? You will carry on for me. You will see her someday. Tell her hello for me. — Rick Riordan

I told you," Harry was saying to Ben. "I warned you. As soon as I saw her from distance, do you remember what I said to you?"
"Yes, yes. You said she was trouble. You where wrong there, and you're wrong now."
"Benjamin, I know about these things. She is trouble."
"You know nothing except the idiocy you glean from your insipid books that tell you nothing about life. You don't know how to live."
"And you do?"
"Yes, I do. She is no trouble. She is Life!"
Harry rolled his eyes to the heavens. "More fool you. How else do you define trouble?"
"Like a femme fatale," Ben said.
"Give her time, Benjamin. She is a fille fatale. Quattordici indeed!"
Ben moved away from mocking Harry, his shoulders dropping. — Paullina Simons

He knew how to handle pain. You had to lie down with pain, not draw back away from it. You let yourself sort of move around the outside edge of pain like with cold water until you finally got up your nerve to take yourself in hand. Then you took a deep breath and dove in and let yourself sink down it clear to the bottom. And after you had been down inside pain a while you found that like with cold water it was not nearly as cold as you had thought it was when your muscles were cringing themselves away from the outside edge of it as you moved around it trying to get up your nerve. He knew pain. — James Jones

long. Trade has always traveled and the world has always traded. Ours, though, is the era of extreme interdependence. Hardly any nation is now self-sufficient. In 2011, the United Kingdom shipped in half of its gas. The United States relies on ships to bring in two-thirds of its oil supplies. Every day, thirty-eight million tons of crude oil sets off by sea somewhere, although you may not notice it. As in Los Angeles, New York, and other port cities, London has moved its working docks out of the city, away from residents. Ships are bigger now and need deeper harbors, so they call at Newark or Tilbury or Felixstowe, not Liverpool or South Street. — Rose George

I moved here when I was 20 to go to college. After I moved here, I became much more aware of the importance of the culture and literature to my life. Sometimes when you're immersed in something, you just don't notice it very much. Moving away makes you appreciate your culture. Living here, I've thought more and more about India, and what being Indian-American means to me. And it's made me incorporate things from Indian literature into my own writing. — Chitra Banerjee Divakaruni

I just played one of the bad guys in Hercules 3D, and I had cornrows. People moved away from me in elevators, that's for sure. I wore them for about three months. After a while, they get a little gnarly, and you have to redo them. — Johnathon Schaech

The survivors of the old life come to pay their respects. The neighbors, old and young, come. People who have moved away, maybe a long time ago, come back. You see people you knew when you were young and now don't recognize, people who may never come back again, people you may never see again. We feel the old fabric torn, pulling apart, and we know how much we have loved each other. — Wendell Berry

Why don't you write about the gypsies? My great people the gitanos!" Armando smirked in response as he moved her away from his computer. "You know when I was mortal, the gitanos were considered trash." Carlotta's face darkened with anger. "You high-brow Spanish aristocratic pig, whose genes are so inbred you're lucky your genitals aren't growing out of your forehead, — Rhiannon Frater

His lips brushed against mine and I twined my arms around his neck trying to pull
him down on top of me. It was like trying to move a boulder.
I gave up with a sigh. He gave me one last lingering kiss and moved away but not before saying with a wink, "If you're a good girl at training, the reward will be well worth it." And with that promise, I perked up.
I'll be the fastest freaking learner ever. — Eve Langlais

I don't care how much people understand what it is that I'm doing, except if they're players in my ensemble or other ensembles. I just want people to be moved by the music. If you're not moved by the music, then everything else falls away. You're not interested in the text, you're not interested in how it was done, and you're not interested in interviewing the composer and all the rest of it. — Steve Reich

You dont get your black ass away from this fire I'll kill you graveyard dead. He looked to where Glanton sat. Glanton watched him. He put the pipe in his mouth and rose and took up the apishamore and folded it over his arm. Is that your final say? Final as the judgement of God. The black looked once more across the flames at Glanton and then he moved away in the dark. The white man uncocked the revolver and placed it on the ground before him. Two of the others came back to the fire and stood uneasily. Jackson sat with his legs crossed. One hand lay in his lap and the other was outstretched on his knee holding a slender black cigarillo. The nearest man to him was Tobin and when the black stepped out of the darkness bearing the bowieknife in both hands like some instrument of ceremony Tobin started to rise. The white man looked up drunkenly and the black stepped forward and with a single stroke swapt off his head. — Cormac McCarthy