Thighs Quotes - Page 9

• I put my hand on him. Touching him has always been important to me, it was something I lived for. I never could explain why. Little, nothing touches, my fingers against his shoulder, the outsides of our thighs touching as we squeeled together on the bus. I couldnt explain it, but I needed it. Sometimes I imagined stiching all of our little touches together. How many hundreds of thousands of fingers brushing against each other does it take to make love?

  Jonathan Safran Foer

  Hands, Making Love, Touching

  "Extremely Loud & Incredibly Close". Book by Jonathan Safran Foer, April 1, 2005.

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• As I dive between the legs of a big Gunnar, I see Mair wind up and slam her shockstick hard as she can between the V of another guy’s thighs. Falling, he makes a noise that I can’t say I’ve heard a human utter before, sort of like I imagine a puppy would sound being put through a juicer.

  Ann Aguirre

  Fall, Wind, Guy

  Ann Aguirre (2008). “Grimspace”, p.56, Penguin

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• How many of them were there?' Her voice wasn't joking around. Eighteen. Hundred.' Four,' Blaylock interjected. 'An honor guard of four.' What did they work you over with? Those bruises on your thighs are severe?' Crowbars. Big, massive-' Blay cut in. 'Clubs. Had to be those ceremonial black clubs.

  J.R. Ward

  Cutting, Voice, Black

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• Want to try it?" Dad offered, patting the arm of the chair. "Fifteen different kinds of massage. It analyzes your back muscles and makes recommendations. It also grabs and stretches the thigh and calf muscles." "No, thanks. I prefer my furniture to keep its hands to itself.

  Lisa Kleypas

  Dad, Hands, Trying

  Lisa Kleypas (2015). “The Travis Family Series, Books 1-3: Blue-Eyed Devil, Smooth Taking Stranger and Sugar Daddy”, p.158, St. Martin's Press

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• I am running through a snowfall which is her thighs, he dramatized in purple. Her thighs are filling up the street. Wide as a snowfall, heavy as huge falling Zeppelins, her damp thighs are settling on the sharp roofs and wooden balconies. Weather-vanes press the shape of roosters and sail-boats into the skin. The faces of famous statues are preserved like intaglios.

  Leonard Cohen

  Running, Fall, Purple

  Leonard Cohen (2011). “The Favourite Game”, p.95, Emblem Editions

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• He took something out of his jacket and handed it to her. It was a long thin dagger in a leather sheath. The hilt of the dagger was set with a single red stone carved in the shape of a rose. She shook her head. "I wouldn't even know how to use that--" He pressed it into her hand, curling her fingers around it. "You'd learn." He dropped his voice. "It's in your blood." She drew her hand back slowly. "All right." "I could give you a thigh sheath to put that in," Isabelle offered. "I've got tons." "CERTAINLY NOT," said Simon.

  Cassandra Clare

  Blood, Hands, Voice

  Cassandra Clare (2015). “City of Bones: TV Tie-in”, p.214, Simon and Schuster

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• Squatting on old bones and excrement and rusty iron, in a white blaze of heat, a panorama of naked idiots stretches to the horizon. Complete silence - their speech centres are destroyed - except for the crackle of sparks and the popping of singed flesh as they apply electrodes up and down the spine. White smoke of burning flesh hangs in the motionless air. A group of children have tied an idiot to a post with barbed wire and built a fire between his legs and stand watching with bestial curiosity as the flames lick his thighs. His flesh jerks in the fire with insect agony.

  William S. Burroughs

  Children, Air, Flames

  "Naked Lunch". Book by William S. Burroughs, 1959.

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• Only then did I see. Something was amiss with Patrick's snap-on one piece, or "onesie" as we manly dads like to call it. His chubby thighs, I now realized, were squeezed into the armholes, which were so tight they must have been cutting off his circulation. The collared neck hung between his legs like an udder. Up top, Patrick's head stuck out through the unsnapped crotch, and his arms were lost somewhere in the billowing pant legs. It was quite a look.

  John Grogan

  Dad, Cutting, Looks

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• he dared to explore her withered neck w/his fingertips…her hips w/their decaying bones, her thighs with their aging veins.

  Gabriel Garcia Marquez

  Lust, Veins, Hips

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• Could he be naked beneath his breeches? They seemed molded to him, outlining the powerful lines of his thighs and the swell just above— Oh, God. She closed her eyes. She’d been looking at his—Not only was it rude, but it had sent an amazing tingle through her, almost as if she’d touched it. “Fiona, if you ever look at me like that again, I will not be held responsible for what I do.” Jack was so close that she could feel his breath on her temple. “Do you understand?

  Karen Hawkins

  Powerful, Eye, Rude

  Karen Hawkins (2007). “How to Abduct a Highland Lord”, p.65, Simon and Schuster

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• You said you wanted to remember something.' His palms slid up to the top of her thighs and squeezed. 'So lie back and let me do my thing.' -Issac Rothe, Crave

  J.R. Ward

  Lying, Remember Something, Said

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• No longer was she merely the dancing-girl who extorts a cry of lust and concupiscence from an old man by the lascivious contortions of her body; who breaks the will, masters the mind of a King by the spectacle of her quivering bosoms, heaving belly and tossing thighs; she was now revealed in a sense as the symbolic incarnation of world-old Vice, the goddess of immortal Hysteria, the Curse of Beauty supreme above all other beauties by the cataleptic spasm that stirs her flesh and steels her muscles, - a monstrous Beast of the Apocalypse, indifferent, irresponsible, insensible, poisoning.

  Joris-Karl Huysmans

  Girl, Kings, Men

  Joris-Karl Huysmans (2015). “Against the Grain: (À rebours)”, p.44, BoD – Books on Demand

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• I love black thighs, you sisters better realize That real hair and real eyes get real guys. So before you makeup your face, you better make up your mind.

  Common

  Real, Rap, Eye

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• I have been using the Lipo Target Massager (not every day) and the Detox Oil. Recently my husband noticed that the cellulite on my thighs had decreased. For a man to notice anything there has to be quite a big difference - so it works really well.

  Charmaine

  Husband, Men, Oil

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• The truth is I couldn’t care less about needing a supposed 'thigh gap.' It’s just another tool of manipulation that other people are trying to use to keep me from loving my body. Why would I want to starve and weaken my natural body size? I’m not saying women who have it naturally are unattractive. But I would have to change my entire frame just to achieve something that seems so trivial.

  Robyn Lawley

  People, Trying, Tools

  "Why The Dangerous ‘Thigh Gap’ Trend Makes Me Mad" by Robyn Lawley, www.thedailybeast.com. October 28, 2013.

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• It's not that the Democrats are playing checkers and the Republicans are playing chess. It's that the Republicans are playing chess and the Democrats are in the nurse's office because once again they glued their balls to their thighs.

  Jon Stewart

  Nurse, Office, Balls

  "Jon Stewart Gets Fed Up: Dems Set The Bar So Low They’re Tripping Over It" by Dan Abramson, www.huffingtonpost.com. March 21, 2010.

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• I am pleased enough with the surfaces - in fact they alone seem to me to be of much importance. Such things for example as the grasp of a child's hand in your own, the flavor of an apple, the embrace of a friend or lover, the silk of a girl's thigh, the sunlight on the rock and leaves, the feel of music, the bark of a tree, the abrasion of granite and sand, the plunge of clear water into a pool, the face of the wind - what else is there? What else do we need?

  Edward Abbey

  Girl, Children, Hands

  Edward Abbey (1996). “The Serpents of Paradise: A Reader”, p.156, Holt Paperbacks

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• It's hard to find peace with your thighs, but when they chafe, try to be grateful for them. Your thighs let you run and get you where you want to go. I have not just thigh peace but thigh happiness, and it begins with thigh gratitude.

  Margaret Cho

  Happiness, Running, Gratitude

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