Bottoms Hazel Quotes

Hope was a huge hill you climbed higher every day. And when something went wrong, it was like getting pushed off a cliff. The higher you’d climbed, the farther you fell, and the more broken you were when you hit the bottom.

I wouldn’t exactly say we were scraping the bottom of the barrel by date seven, but Josh did feel the need to fake diarrhea, and I readily rushed him out to the car, apologizing profusely to our confused dates over my shoulder.

The girl who had left Ireland was gone to the bottom of the ocean with the rest of them.

At the bottom of the ravine was a glittering stream, about two feet in depth and six feet wide. A waterfall plunged from a shelf of shale rock to the right, tumbling in three broad steps toward the stream, where the water bubbled and boiled. Dappled shade from the trees cast intriguing shadows onto the water, while the flickering sunlight painted the early spring foliage in shades of gold and emerald and soft buttery yellow.

It was nice to hear someone familiar. 'How have you been?' Hazel cleared her throat. 'So I need to start networking a little, as they say. Do you have the phone number of anyone who might be looking to hire some help?' 'I don't have a phone,' Liver answered. Hazel felt her pulse speed up. 'No phone? Of any kind?' Her voice was nearly cracking with excitement. 'So how do people get ahold of you? Your family? Your friends?' 'I've succumbed to neither affliction,' he answered. 'What about women?' she asked, admittedly changing her voice to be a little flirtatious. Hazel decided she'd misjudged him. Anyone getting through life without a phone had skills she wanted to acquire. Rare capabilities that attracted the new Hazel. 'I just meet women in this bar. Mainly they use me to help them reach bottom. I'm like a brick they grab onto midair. Sleeping with me helps them admit their lives have become unmanageable. They realize they want and deserve something more, and then their recovery process can begin. I get laid in the meantime. Win-win.

Tears fill her eyes, making the hazel colour sparkle like pebbles at the bottom of a clear stream when the sun shines on them.

I’m sorry,” I said turning to him. His clear hazel eyes met mine, and a tiny bit of humor flickered there. “You say that a lot.” Tugging at my Defense uniform (which was even uglier than I remembered; bright blue stretchy cotton was not a good look on anyone), I gave a little laugh. “Yeah, well, I feel it a lot.” Especially where you’re concerned, I wanted to add. Cal didn’t say anything to that, and after a moment, started walking toward the house. I waited a few seconds before following. There was so much I wanted to say to him, but I didn’t even know where to start. Cal, I think I love you, but I’m maybe not in love with you, even though kissing you was pretty boss was maybe one approach. Or: Cal, I love Archer, but my feelings for you are all confused because you are both awesome and smoking hot, and we’re already technically engaged to be married, which adds to the giant pot of boiling emotions and hormones I’ve become. Okay, maybe don’t say boiling… “You okay?” “Huh?” I blinked, surprised to see we’d come to the front of the house. Cal was standing with one foot on the bottom porch step, staring at me. “You have this weird look on your face,” he said. “Like you’re doing really complicated math in your head.” I couldn’t help a little snort of laughter. “I was, in a manner of speaking.” As I moved past him and into the house, I resolved to talk to Cal like a mature grown-up person. Eventually. For now, I gave him a little wave and ran away to my room.

I thought you'd left me," he said. "Monday is shopping night," she replied. "Yeah, but I thought you left me. I was so scared," he rasped, face folding. Two pints of milk, two tubs of Greek yoghurt, Parmesan, and smoked mackerel for the fridge. "Well, I haven't," she said. "I went shopping." Whole wheat spaghetti, two tins of chickpeas, two tins of tomatoes, and red lentils for the cupboard. "Are you OK?" he asked. Garlic, sweet potatoes, and red onions for the bottom drawer. "Darling, please talk to me," he begged. Bananas, apples, and Comte pears for the fruit bowl. "Darling, please. I can't have you not talking to me." A bar of 85 percent Green and Black's and Kettle Chips for the top cupboard.

Not at all,” said Ian, taking in every detail of the rather attractive man before him. He was tanned and tawny-haired, with hazel eyes. He was dressed in luxurious-looking jogging bottoms and a matching zip-up sweater of fine navy cashmere (which Ian immediately clocked as being Loro Piana, loungewear of the super-rich).

Did you see your Maiden?” “I don’t know. I—” She pulled her bottom lip into her mouth. “I don’t know what I saw.” “Tell me.” “I was in a meadow. There was snow on the ground outside a small stone chamber. The Yew family was there, carrying a frail boy in their arms.” Her voice quieted. “You were there, too, Prince. As were my father and Uncle Erik.” Elm went cold. “Was the boy Emory?” “Yes. A tall man I’ve never seen before guarded me with a sword. He had yellow eyes, just as Elspeth does now. He took my hand, unfurled my fingers. There were three Cards, nestled in my palm. The Maiden, the Scythe—” Her hazel eyes lifted. “And the Twin Alders.

We’ve got enough starfish,” he said and then went on, “Look, Hazel, I know you’ve got six or seven undersized abalones in the bottom of your sack. If we get stopped by a game warden, you’re going to say they’re mine, on my permit—aren’t you?” “Well—hell,” said Hazel. “Look,” Doc said kindly. “Suppose I get an order for abalones and maybe the game warden thinks I’m using my collecting permit too often. Suppose he thinks I’m eating them.” “Well—hell,” said Hazel. “It’s like the industrial alcohol board. They’ve got suspicious minds. They always think I’m drinking the alcohol. They think that about everyone.

Come for me, Hazel. Right here. Right where anyone could catch us.’ His voice was low and deep and wicked and his gaze nearly burned right through her. She came fast and hard, biting down on her bottom lip to keep in her screams. Her legs trembled but Noah banded an arm around her waist and held her up as the aftershocks rolled through her. He pulled his hand slowly from between her legs and licked his fingers.

For a millisecond, I feel fluttery from his closeness, from the feeling of his shoulder muscles under my hands and the way his cologne mixes with the coconut sweetness of the sunblock and the way his hazel eyes fix on me firmly. It’s a millisecond that belongs to that other five percent—the what-if. If I leaned forward and kissed him over his shoulder, slipped his bottom lip between my teeth, twisted my hands into his hair until he turned himself around and pulled me into his chest. But there’s no more room for that what-if, and I know that. I think he knows it too, because he clears his throat and glances away.

I return to the house to fetch my shoulder bag, find my wallet at the bottom of it, take out my credit card and scrape. At last there is a hole in the ice big enough to see through.

I kept count with scratches on the handles of the stretcher, the way my father has shown me how to keep count of the fish on the hazel rod when I was small; the side of a tiny box for one point, the bottom for two, the other side for three, the top for four, and from one corner to the other for five, and then onto a new box.

I’m trying to bang out some code for a client while Hazel is taking her morning nap. She’s in her crib right now, sleeping butts-up coconut.” I chuckle. “I’m afraid to ask.” “That’s what Hannah calls it when Hazel’s sleeping with her bottom straight in the air. She smashes her cheek into the mattress and curls her little legs up underneath her, and points her butt straight up. It’s the cutest thing I’ve ever seen.” “Send me a pic.” “Reed, Hazel is my baby.” I laugh. “I want to see.” “Are you drunk?” “I’m just in a good mood. Now, send me a fucking photo of your baby doing butts up coconut before I beat your scrawny ass. My time is valuable, man. I don’t beg.” He laughs. My phone pings. “I sent it.” “Aw. You’re right. That is adorable.

Every time Amazons swarmed beneath them, demanding their surrender, Hazel made a crate of jewelry explode, burying their enemies in a Niagara Falls of gold and silver. When they got to the bottom of the ladder, they found a scene that looked like Mardi Gras Armageddon—Amazons trapped up to their necks in bead necklaces, several more upside down in a mountain of amethyst earrings, and a battle forklift buried in silver charm bracelets.

James Arthur—“Say You Won’t Let Go” Dermot Kennedy—“An Evening I Will Not Forget/Furthest Thing” Dermot Kennedy—“Rome” Butch Walker—“Mixtape” Lustra—“Scotty Doesn’t Know” Dermot Kennedy—“Kiss Me” Khalid—“Ocean” Dermot Kennedy—“What Have I Done” Dermot Kennedy—“Something to Someone” Our Last Night—“Surface Pressure” Etaoin—“Bedroom Walls” NF and Britt Nicole—“Can You Hold Me” 2Pac—“Until the End of Time” Ron Pope—“In My Bones” The Verve—“Bitter Sweet Symphony” Ed Sheeran—“Happier” New Found Glory—“Kiss Me” Eamon—“Fuck It” Brantley Gilbert—“Bottoms Up” Picture This—“With or Without You” Alter Bridge—“Watch over You” Every Avenue—“Only Place I Call Home” Dermot Kennedy—“Power over Me” The Cranberries—“Zombie” Sister Hazel—“Your Winter” Chord Overstreet—“Screw Paris” Jaymes Young—“I’ll Be Good” 2Pac—“California Love” Halsey—“Without Me” Thirteen Senses—“Into the Fire” Dean Lewis—“Adore” The Cab—“Angel with a Shotgun” Lukr & Jonas Hahn—“Fucked Up Summer” (Remix) Declan J Donovan—“Fallen So Young” The 1975—“Me” 2Pac—“Changes” Maroon 5—“One More Night” 2Pac—“Dear Mama” Semisonic—“F.N.T.” Daniel Gidlund—“Wasteland” Demi Lovato—“Sober” Lana Del Rey—“Heroin” The 1975—“Fallingforyou