Rake Memorable Quotes

If you ask me what remains to be known in the future, I’ll say, ‘Memorize all the world’s encyclopedias.’ Once you do that, forget all that fancy junk and rake the leaves – else I’m gonna take a stick to you, boy.

There are situations considered "not fit for children." Many I know grew up with these situations. Eight-year-olds with the Sheriff's Office number memorized. Southernness is raking up countless bags of Magnolia leaves knowing you'll eventually get a few blooms.

Their bodies coupled. Her breasts pressed against his chest and their hip bones rubbed. He curved his arms about her shoulders. She settled her hands at his waist. The man was solid. His muscles taut. She shifted between his legs, flush with his groin. A groin that stirred. Arousal struck hard. He bent to kiss her. Just as she stretched up to him. Time slowed with the exchange of breath. The heat of his slightly parted lips blew across her mouth. His unshaved jaw brushed the softer skin of her chin. Seconds were magnified as each memorized the impact of the moment. It was startling. Unsettling. And unforgettable. He moved on her without reservation. The pull between them was inescapable. He slanted his mouth over hers, flicked his tongue along her upper lip, and nipped the bottom one. Then sucked both hard. She nearly came out of her skin. He penetrated her mouth with his tongue. A seductive pulse of slow, then fast. Raking the roof of her mouth, then thrusting deep. He was skilled in kissing. She lost herself in the mating rhythm.

His kiss was soft and gentle at first, but quickly turned urgent and demanding, as if he had been waiting for this moment all afternoon. Unable to resist, I wrapped my arms around his neck and deepened the kiss, our tongues tangling, stroking, tasting each other. Jack's hands moved down my back to my hips, pulling me closer to him. I could feel his hardness pressing against my thigh and a moan escaped my lips. He pulled back for a moment, his eyes raking over my body, as if memorizing every curve. "So beautiful," he murmured, his hands gripping my hips tighter.

Did I ever tell you that we used to keep our horses where your house is?” “Yeah,” I mumbled. She continued her story, “My brothers used to get up early every morning and go across the street, well, there wasn’t a street there yet. It was just a dirt road, and they used to get up and clean the stables and feed the horses every morning. I would go over there once they had finished and give the horses a brush, even though none of those horses were mine. I had always wanted my own horse, but I never got one. When my father got older, he got rid of the horses and sold the land, all but this yard here." She spread her hand over the yard as she said this. "I grew up and got married and had to move away. My husband and I lived in an apartment above a bread store. And it was so cramped, let me tell you. There was nowhere to move around and no yard to take care of. It was terrible. I’m not saying I wanted my husband to die. I’d never have wished that in a million years. But I was so relieved to come home after two years, and I've lived here ever since." I had stopped raking, turned and looked at her. "I know why you don’t want to leave this street," she said, "You’ve been in that house your whole life, just like me. And no matter where you go it’s not going to seem like home. But just like me, you’re going to come back. You have to remind yourself of that. And I did hate being away from home, but it was the most memorable time in my life, being away. It was an adventure as much as it was scary. But when I came home, I learned to get out more. I went to beauty school and got a job at the salon and took trips with friends. I like to get away from the house so that I can come back and still appreciate it. And you will too after you come back.” I nodded at Violet. What she was saying made sense. “I’ll go,” I said, “Tell them I’ll go.” - The Stable House

I'm not lovely," she blurted out. One side of his mouth kicked up. "Now, there," he said quietly, searching her face as if to memorize this new Callie, whom he'd just discovered, "I shall have to disagree." And then he set his lips to hers and she was drugged by his caress and his words, both equally intoxicating. This kiss was different from all that they had shared before- softer, seeking, as though they were both discovering something altogether new. This was a concert of stroking tongue and soft lips. Gabriel lifted his head and waited for her to open her eyes; when she did, he was struck once more by her loveliness. He searched her face, watching as she returned from the sensual place where the kiss had taken her. "You said I was plain." He shook his head slowly, marveling at the clear, brown depths of emotion in her eyes. "There is nothing plain about you." And then, he kissed her again. Her mouth was his banquet. He sipped at her lips, savoring their taste, their softness. Her hands found their way around his neck and into his hair- threading through the dark locks. The caress sent a shiver of pleasure through him. He ate at her, nibbling at her lips before gently laving the worried skin there with his tongue. When he pulled away and met her eyes once more, they were both breathing heavily, and Gabriel was wishing that they were anywhere but here, hundreds of Londoners mere feet away. He had to stop. He was about to do exactly what he had resolved not to do. Had he not promised himself that he would not compromise her again? He owed her more. Better. A vision flashed in his mind of Callie naked, spread before him in a pool of sunlight, and he pushed it aside. This was no time to indulge in fantasies that would further arouse him- as it was, his excitement was embarrassingly obvious in his breeches.