Teasing Quotes

You're so easy to tease. And yes, your friend is just fine. Well, except that he keeps putting all my things away and trying to clean up. Now I can't find anything. He's compulsive.

Oh no. Don't smile. You'll kill me. I stop breathing when you smile.

He grinned when I didn't protest, and lowered his mouth toward mine. The first touch was just that - a touch. A teasing, tempting softness. I licked my lips and Patch's grin deepened. "More?" he asked. I curled my hands into his hair, pulling him closer. "More.

Trains are great dirty smoky things," said Will. "You won't like it." Tessa was unmoved. "I won't know if I like it until I try it, will I?" "I've never swum naked in the Thames before, but I know I wouldn't like it." "But think how entertaining for sightseers," said Tessa, and she saw Jem duck his head to hide the quick flash of his grin.

I fell in love with teasing you in the second grade, when I first discovered that I could turn you cheeks pink with just a word. Then I fell in love with you.

A slow, wry smile teased Daemon’s lips. "Simmer down, Kitten, before I have to get you a ball of yarn to play with." Annoyance flared deep inside me. "Don’t start with me, jerk-face.

Hate to sound sleazy, but tease me, I don't want it if it's that easy

Love cannot be forced, love cannot be coaxed and teased. It comes out of heaven, unasked and unsought.

I roll my eyes. "So when did I become so special? When they carted me off to the Capitol?" "No, about six months before that. Right after New Year's. We were in the Hob, eating some slop of Greasy Sae's. And Darius was teasing you about trading a rabbit for one of his kisses. And I realized...I minded.

Har. Bloody. Har." He smiles. "Oh, I see. Known me less than a day and teasing me about my accent. What's next? Care to discuss the state of my hair? My height? My trousers?" Trousers. Honestly.

I knew you were a badass," continued Adrian. "But I didn't realize just how much until I saw you dropping guardians out there." "Does that mean you're going to be nicer to me?" I teased. "I'm already nice to you," he said loftily. "Do you know how badly I want a cigarette right now? But no. I manfully suffer through nicotine withdrawal—all for you.

Sam laughed, a funny, self-deprecating laugh. "You did read a lot. And spent too much time just inside the kitchen window, where I couldn't see you very well." "And not enough time mostly naked in front of my bedroom window?" I teased. Sam turned bright red. "That," he said, "is so not the point of this conversation.

He laughed. "I know you're teasing me. And you should know I'm not easily humiliated. You may hunt for my food, and pound me every time we fight, and protect me when we're attacked, if you like. I'll thank you for it.

Rose? Is that you?" I peered behind him. Lissa. "What are you doing here?" "What are you doing here?" She asked "Ladies, ladies" he said teasingly. "No need to fight over me." I glared. "We're not.

How're we getting to King's Cross tomorrow, Dad?" asked Fred as they dug into a sumptuous pudding. "The Ministry's providing a couple of cars," said Mr. Weasley. Everyone looked up at him. "Why?" said Percy curiously. "It's because of you, Perce," said George seriously. "And there'll be little flags on the hoods, with HB on them-" "-for Humongous Bighead," said Fred.

Do not leave me, hide in my heart like a secret, wind around my head like a turban. "I come and go as I please," you say, "swift as a heartbeat." You can tease me as much as you like but never leave me.

So what you're saying is, I'm your brand of heroin?" I teased, trying to lighten the mood. He smiled swiftly, seeming to appreciate my effort. "Yes, you are exactly my brand of heroin.

It's funny how a flame can only burn your hand if you move too slow, you can tease it all you want and it never gets you, if you're quick enough.

When people see you're happy doing what you're doing, it sort of takes the power away from them to tease you about it.

So... am I to understand that you're mine"" I asked teasingly. "I can be yours if you want me to be, Taryn," he whispered.

You’re my gravity. Nothing in my world works without you.” “Gravity,” he whispers, a slow, beautiful smile curving his mouth. “The one force we can never escape,” I tease.

Who is it?" I asked teasingly "Bigfoot," Dex answered from his room. "What do you want, Mr Foot?" "Please, just call me Big." I snorted. "You wish." "You know.

You look disappointed to see me, Zach," Macey teased. "Don't you like my jacket?

Teasing's part of the fun that comes before kissing

You should get married more often," Loki teased. "It makes you feisty.

If I had my life to live over... Someone asked me the other day if I had my life to live over would I change anything. My answer was no, but then I thought about it and changed my mind. If I had my life to live over again I would have waxed less and listened more. Instead of wishing away nine months of pregnancy and complaining about the shadow over my feet, I'd have cherished every minute of it and realized that the wonderment growing inside me was to be my only chance in life to assist God in a miracle. I would never have insisted the car windows be rolled up on a summer day because my hair had just been teased and sprayed. I would have invited friends over to dinner even if the carpet was stained and the sofa faded. I would have eaten popcorn in the "good" living room and worried less about the dirt when you lit the fireplace. I would have taken the time to listen to my grandfather ramble about his youth. I would have burnt the pink candle that was sculptured like a rose before it melted while being stored. I would have sat cross-legged on the lawn with my children and never worried about grass stains. I would have cried and laughed less while watching television ... and more while watching real life. I would have shared more of the responsibility carried by my husband which I took for granted. I would have eaten less cottage cheese and more ice cream. I would have gone to bed when I was sick, instead of pretending the Earth would go into a holding pattern if I weren't there for a day. I would never have bought ANYTHING just because it was practical/wouldn't show soil/ guaranteed to last a lifetime. When my child kissed me impetuously, I would never have said, "Later. Now, go get washed up for dinner." There would have been more I love yous ... more I'm sorrys ... more I'm listenings ... but mostly, given another shot at life, I would seize every minute of it ... look at it and really see it ... try it on ... live it ... exhaust it ... and never give that minute back until there was nothing left of it.

I thought you don’t believe in love,” I teased. “You’re right. That was the wrong word … Because love is ordinary. Mundane. And you, Stella … You’re extraordinary.

I want to be a body for you. I want to chase you, find you, I want to be eluded and teased and adored; I want to be defeated and victorious—I want you to cut me, sharpen me. I want to drink tea beside you in ten years or a thousand. Flowers grow far away on a planet they’ll call Cephalus, and these flowers bloom once a century, when the living star and its black-hole binary enter conjunction.I want to fix you a bouquet of them, gathered across eight hundred thousand years, so you can draw our whole engagement in a single breath, all the ages we’ve shaped together.

You done with work? Yep, at home waiting for you. Now that's a nice visual... Prepare yourself, I'm taking bread out of the oven. Don't tease me woman...zucchini? Cranberry orange. Mmmm... No woman has ever done breakfast bread foreplay the way you do. Ha! When you coming? Can't. Drive. Straight. Can we have one conversation when you're not twelve? Sorry, I'll be there in 30 Perfect, that will give me time to frost my buns. Pardon me? Oh, didn't I tell you? I also made cinnamon rolls. Be there in 25.

She leaned into him to soak up his warmth. "You are so hot," she said. "It's about time you noticed," he teased.

Garcia wondered why people with JESUS stickers on their bumper always drove twenty miles per hour under the speed limit. If God was my co-pilot, he thought, I'd be doing a hundred and twenty.

You deserve to be happy,” he said. And meant it. She deserved the joy he so often glimpsed on her face when Rowan was near—deserved the wicked laughter she shared with Aedion, the comfort and teasing with Lysandra. She deserved happiness, perhaps more than anyone.

I'm not good, Mac. Never have been.' What-true confession time? my eyes tease. Don't need it. 'I want what I want and I take it.' Is he warning me? What could he possibly threaten me with now? 'There's nothing I can't live with. Only things I won't live without.

Only if you are afraid of looking foolish, and I would have looked far more foolish if I persisted with an erroneous belief.' Eragon said. Why, little one, you just said something wise!'Saphira teased.

Wolf, are you asking me to be ... your alpha female?" He hesitated. Scarlet couldn't help it - she burst into laughter. "Oh - I'm sorry. That was mean. I know I shouldn't tease you about this." Still grinning, she made to retract her hand, but he was suddenly gripping it, refusing to relinquish the touch. "You just look so scared, like I'm going to disappear any minute. We're stuck on a spaceship, Wolf. I'm not going anywhere." His lips twitched, his nervousness beginning to ease away, though his hand stayed tense over hers. "Alpha female," he murmured. "I sort of like that." Beaming, Scarlet gave a mild shrug. "It could grow on me.

Unless you stop him. Perhaps next we meet." "You'll be just as annoying?" I guessed. He fixed my with those warm brown eyes. "Or perhaps you could bring me up to speed on those modern courtship rituals." I sat there stunned until he gave me a glimpse of a smile-just enough to let me know he was teasing. Then he disappeared. "Oh, very funny!" I yelled.

There's a word for it," she told me, "in French, for when you have a lingering impression of something having passed by. Sillage. I always think of it when a firework explodes and lights up the smoke from the ones before it." "That's a terrible word," I teased. "It's like an excuse for holding onto the past." "Well, I think it's beautiful. A word for remembering small moments destined to be lost.

Oh no. Oh God. I couldn't possibly be so stupid." "Don't limit yourself. You can be anything you wish.

Hey, Carrots," he says.

His finger flicked open a button on my cardigan-then two, three, four. It tumbled off my shoulders, leaving me in my camisole. He pushed up the hem, teasing and stroking his thumb across my stomach. My breath came in a sharp intake of air.

Still in one piece?” Vincent teased, pulling me close & planting a soft kiss on my lips. “After dirty-dancing with Jules, I’m not sure.

I'd face down a horde of spiders for you, baby." I grinned at the sound of his laugh again. "For real." "Thats true love there. Some serious stuff," he teased. "It is.

My nails dug into his back, and he trailed his lips down the edge of my chin, down the center of my neck. He kept going until he reached the bottom of the dress’s V-neck. I let out a small gasp, and he kissed all around the neckline, just enough to tease.

Don't stop" I tease in a seductive voice. " Give me more, Ben. Did you read eBooks or..." I run my finger slowly down his chest."Hardbacks?" He pulls his hands behind his head and a smug look washes over his face. "Oh, they were hardbacks, all right. And I'm not sure if you're ready for this, but...I have my own TBR pile. You should read it, Fallon. It's huge"

Little blossom in peach and red Trapping boys with your pretty head; Tease and play, be coy and smart For you will one day break his heart

The next time you better have a good reason," I tease him. "Okay." He kisses me again. "Reason?" I ask softly. "Um. You're really pretty?" "That's a good one. I don't know if it's true, but it's good.

And you said you’d hate me forever,” Jason teased as he tossed Taylor onto the bed. She reached impatiently for his belt buckle, yanking him onto the bed with her. “This is angry sex—I actually don’t like you at all.

Speak roughly to your little boy and beat him when he sneezes! he only does it to annoy, because he knows it teases!

Tease,” Ty accused softly. “Do I have your attention now?” Zane drawled. “You never lost it,” Ty responded before thinking better of it.

Is this seat taken?" a warm sexy drawl asked and I lifted my gaze and smiled up at Dank. "Yes. I'm saving it for my smoking hot boyfriend," I replied teasingly. Dank slid in beside me and put his arm around my shoulder. "Hmmm, well he should have gotten here sooner. You snooze, you lose.

When I meet a European, the first thing I say is, “I’d much rather watch football than football.” But I’m just teasing them, and they know I’d really rather watch football than football.

Hello, hello.” Magnus swept toward them..."Alec, my darling, Clary. And rat-boy." He swept a bow toward Simon, who looked annoyed. "To what do I owe the pleasure?" "We came to see Jace," Clary said. "Is he all right?" "I don’t know," Magnus said. "Does he normally just lie on the floor like that without moving?" "What –," Alec began, and broke off as Magnus laughed. "That’s not funny." "You’re so easy to tease. And yes, your friend is just fine. Well, except that he keeps putting all my things away and trying to clean up. Now I can’t find anything. He’s compulsive.

Never tease an old dog; he might have one bite left.

I'm going to teach you to ride Princess." "Princess?" "My motorcycle." I laugh. "You named your motorcycle Princess?" "What can I say?" he teases. "I call all my favorite things princess.

It was like the universe was teasing us; we saw each other just a second too late.

I could be worse, you know." "How?" I asked, teasing. "I mean, I have a work of calligraphy over my toilet that reads, 'Bathe yourself in the comfort of God's words,' Hazel. I could be way worse." "Sounds unsanitary," I said.

Who will kiss you? Who will rock you to sleep?" His voice was slow, drowsy. "You never did," I said, trying to tease him. "You were more father to me than my father, but you never did that." "Someone should. Someone should love you. I will bite him if he will not.

Me, a tease? I am not. I put out...thank you very much. - Jamie Killian

If I were reading a book and happened to strike a wonderful passage I would close the book then and there and go for a walk. I hated the thought of coming to the end of a good book. I would tease it along, delay the inevitable as long as possible, But always, when I hit a great passage, I would stop reading immediately. Out I would go, rain, hail, snow or ice, and chew the cud.

You certainly do heal fast. But you'll still have some impressive bruises, so if I were you I'd avoid your father for the rest of the night." "I'll just tell him you abuse me," Helen said with a shrug. She jumped off the examining table. "And I'll tell him you like it," he teased back.

No time for foreplay?” I teased breathlessly. His smile was sly. “Oh, we’ve had nothing but foreplay from the day we first met.

Didn’t anyone ever teach you to watch where you were going?” he teased. “Didn’t anyone ever teach you to put your things away so that people didn’t trip over them?” she quickly fired back, irritated that he found the entire situation amusing. “And while we are talking, I truly need to know. Do you ever wear clothes?

Ready?" Despite the grim mood, I smiled and cracked my knuckles. "Ready to wrestle with my gorgeous boyfriend? Oh, I'd say I'm ready for that." Amusement softened his eyes. "I'll try to control where I put my hands, but in the heat of things, who knows what could happen?" I added. Patch grinned. "Sounds promising.

Yes. Reyn is our resident horse master. He has an excellent seat." I grinned. "I've noticed." Reyn's face tightened and Nell flushed, looking embarrassed. "It's an equestrian term." "Really? I thought you were talking about his ass.

In her usual manner, Merkel spoke in German. It is worth pointing out, however, that before the translator had an opportunity to convert her statements to English, Obama gave the chancellor and the press a big smile, saying, ‘I think what she said was good. I’m teasing.’ The laughter in the room drowned out the sounds of the cameras clicking and flashing, with Merkel’s giggle and smile among the loudest.

my good qualities are under your protection, and you are to exaggerate them as much as possible; and, in return, it belongs to me to find occasion for teasing and quarreling with you as often as may be...

Anna: You really think he likes me? Rashmi: Anna. He teases you all the time. It's classic boy-pulling-girl's-pigtail syndrome. And whenever anyone else even remotely does it, he always takes your side and tells them to shove it.

He smiled, a real one this time, though his voice remained teasing. “So, what do you think I am?” Naive, I thought at once. Naive, brave, selfless, incredible and much too kind to survive this world. It’ll break you in the end, if you keep going like this. Good things never last.

All I wanted to do was go back inside to the library and read a book.I used to spend all my time reading books, or watching television. It was safe. Nobody ever was hurt or teased or looked stupid while reading books or watching television.

Calling Vikki a slut or a whore was just like calling somebody the Duff. It was insulting and hurtful, and it was one of those titles that just fed off the inner fear every girl must have from time to time. Slut, bitch, prude, tease, ditz. They were all the same. Every girl felt like one of these sexist labels described her at some point.

I'm told I have the body of a god." "A Greek god, or one of those gods with the horse heads or elephant's legs coming out of their chests?" Alan asked. "Next time someone tells you that, ask them to specify.

You're a Dhampir," I breathed. "So are you." he teased. "Yeah, but I just thought—" "That I was human? Because of the bite marks?" "Yeah." I admitted, No point in lying. "We all have to survive," he said "And dhamphirs are good at figuring ways out to.

Wow,” Kylie muttered, and grinned. “Yeah, wow.” Della leaned in closer. “I think Perry just grew a pair.” Kylie bit down on her lip to keep from laughing. “If this was a movie, there would be some music playing in the background.” “I could sing,” Della chuckled. “And ruin it,” Kylie teased back. “I’ve heard you singing in the shower.” Both grinning, they looked back at the kissing couple.

Your mother sounds like a formidable woman," Valek said into the silence. "You have no idea," Leif replied with a sigh. "Well, if she's anything like Yelena, my deepest sympathies," Valek teased. "Hey!" Leif laughed and the tense moment dissipated. Valek handed Leif his machete. "Do you know how to use it?" "Of course. I chopped Yelena's bow into firewood," Leif joked.

That's smart. Once Sonya's able to talk, we'll need to move." He smiled. "Sydney's turning into a battle mastermind." "Hey, she's not in charge here," I teased. "She's just a soldier." "Right." He lightly brushed his fingers against my cheek. "Sorry, Captain." "General," I corrected, catching my breath at that brief touch.

His hands root me through the floor, the room stilling. “Sorry. I just needed …” His eyes search mine, thumbs still sweeping in that gentle rhythm. “A nap?” he teases softly, tentatively. “A fantasy novel? A competitively fast oil change?” The block of ice in my chest cracks. “How do you do that?” His brow furrows. “Do what?” “Say the right thing.” The corner of his mouth quirks. “No one thinks that.” “I do.” His lashes splay across his cheeks as his gaze drops. “Maybe I just say the right thing for you.

Are you going to wolf out and eat me now?" "Certainly not, you'd be stringy and hard to digest." "But kosher." "I'll be sure to point any Jewish lycanthropes in your direction.

I think he likes you" Miranda Whispered. Realizing she and Derek had drawn attention, she glanced away. "He's probably just curious about me like everyone else" she whispered back. "Nope. He's hot for you" Della said, reminding Kylie of the supernatural hearing of some of the campers. "When he was sitting by you at lunch, he oozed so much testosterone that it was hard to breathe. He wants your body" Della teased. "Well, he's not getting it" Kylie said.

It's Dorian, by the way. Not 'Your Highness'." "Very Well." "Say it." "Say what?" "Say my name. Say, 'Very well, Dorian'." She rolled her eyes. "If it pleases Your Magnanimous Holiness, I shall call you by your first name." "Magnanimous Holiness? Oh, I like that one.

Of course, she could still walk away. She won't, he thought. She has to feel it, too. He said, " I've always liked the name Jane." Blue's eyes widened. "Ja--what? Oh! No, no, You can't go around naming people other things because you don't like their real name. "I like Blue just fine,"Gansey said. He didn't believe she was really offended; her face didn't look like it had at Nino's when they'd first met, and her ears were turning pink. He thought possibly, he was getting a little better at not offending her, although he couldn't seem to stop teasing her. "Some of my favorite shirts are blue. However, I also like Jane." "I'm not answering to that.

Sin Fever," Wraith chimed in with a little too much enjoyment. Sin Fever? They'd named the fucking disease after her? Bastards.

We still have a lot to talk about,” I said. “Talk?” He shook his head, his eyes full of desire. Kiss, he whispered to my thoughts. It wasn’t a question, but a warning. He grinned when I didn’t protest, and lowered his mouth toward mine. The first touch was just that—a touch. A teasing, tempting softness. I licked my lips and Patch’s grin deepened. “More?” he asked. I curled my hands into his hair, pulling him closer. “More.

You laugh very loud—as if you are the only one in the world,” Despina commented. Shahrzad wrinkled her nose. “That’s funny. My sister says something very similar.” “I assume it makes little difference to you.” “Why? You’d prefer I stop?” she teased. “No,” Khalid said, as he strode into the Grand Portico. “I would not.” “Sayyidi.” Despina bowed. He nodded at her. “I cannot speak for Despina. But you do laugh too loud. And I hope you never stop.

I thought you didn’t like holding hands,” I say. “And you said you did,” he says. “So, what? I just get whatever I want now?” I tease. His smile flickers back into place, calm and restrained. “Yes, Poppy,” he says. “You get whatever you want now. Is that a problem?” “What if I want you to have what you want?” He arches an eyebrow. “Are you just saying that because you know what I’m going to say, and you want to make fun of me for it?” “No?” I say. “Why? What are you going to say?” Our hands go still between us. “I have what I want, Poppy.

What do you love more?” she teased. “My hair or my heart?” “Why give me only two choices? Don’t leave out your legs, your laugh, the way you bite your lip when you’re thinking, the feel of your breath on my face, the sound of your voice in the morning, the way you taste, the three freckles on your nose, the fan of your eyelashes, the caring spirit, the determined soul — so why stop at your hair and your heart? How do you expect me to choose? When what I love the most about you — is you.

Do you love me, Westley? Is that it?’ He couldn’t believe it. ‘Do I love you? My God, if your love were a grain of sand, mine would be a universe of beaches. If your love were—‘ ‘I don’t understand the first one yet,’ Buttercup interrupted. She was starting to get very excited now. ‘Let me get this straight. Are you saying my love is the size of a grain of sand and yours is this other thing? Images just confuse me so—is this universal business of yours bigger than my sand? Help me, Westley. I have the feeling we’re on the verge of something just terribly important.’ ‘I have stayed these years in my hovel because of you. I have taught myself languages because of you. I have made my body strong because I thought you might be pleased by a strong body. I have lived my life with only the prayer that some sudden dawn you might glance in my direction. I have not known a moment in years when the sight of you did not send my heart careening against my rib cage. I have not known a night when your visage did not accompany me to sleep. There has not been a morning when you did not flutter behind my waking eyelids….Is any of this getting through to you, Buttercup, or do you want me to go on for a while?’ ‘Never stop.’ ‘There has not been—‘ ‘If you’re teasing me, Westley, I’m just going to kill you.’ ‘How can you even dream I might be teasing?’ ‘Well, you haven’t once said you loved me.’ ‘That’s all you need? Easy. I love you. Okay? Want it louder? I love you. Spell it out, should I? I ell-oh-vee-ee why-oh-you. Want it backward? You love I.’ ‘You are teasing now; aren’t you?’ ‘A little maybe; I’ve been saying it so long to you, you just wouldn’t listen. Every time you said ‘Farm boy do this’ you thought I was answering ‘As you wish’ but that’s only because you were hearing wrong. ‘I love you’ was what it was, but you never heard, and you never heard.

Bet you can't even name one romantic movie you like," she teased. She felt smug when a few minutes went by and Oliver was still unable to name one romantic movie he could profess to enjoy. The Empire Strikes Back," Oliver finally declared, tapping his horn at a Prius that wandered over the line. The Empire Strikes Back? The Star Wars movie? That's not romantic!" Schuyler huffed, fiddling with the air conditioner controls. Au contraire, my dear, it's very romantic. The last scene, you know, when they're about to put Han in that freezing cryogenic chamber or whatever? Remember?" Schuyler mmm-hmmmed. And Leia leans over the ledge and says, 'I love you.'" That's cheesy, not romatic," Schuyler argued, although she did like that part. Let me explain. What's romantic is what Han says back. Remember what he says to her? After she says 'I love you'?" Schuyler grinned. Maybe Oliver had a point. "Han says, 'I know.'" Exactly," Oliver tapped the wheel. "He doesn't have to say anything so trite as 'I love you." Because that's already understood. And that's romantic.

LADY LAZARUS I have done it again. One year in every ten I manage it-- A sort of walking miracle, my skin Bright as a Nazi lampshade, My right foot A paperweight, My face a featureless, fine Jew linen. Peel off the napkin O my enemy. Do I terrify?-- The nose, the eye pits, the full set of teeth? The sour breath Will vanish in a day. Soon, soon the flesh The grave cave ate will be At home on me And I a smiling woman. I am only thirty. And like the cat I have nine times to die. This is Number Three. What a trash To annihilate each decade. What a million filaments. The peanut-crunching crowd Shoves in to see Them unwrap me hand and foot-- The big strip tease. Gentlemen, ladies These are my hands My knees. I may be skin and bone, Nevertheless, I am the same, identical woman. The first time it happened I was ten. It was an accident. The second time I meant To last it out and not come back at all. I rocked shut As a seashell. They had to call and call And pick the worms off me like sticky pearls. Dying Is an art, like everything else. I do it exceptionally well. I do it so it feels like hell. I do it so it feels real. I guess you could say I've a call. It's easy enough to do it in a cell. It's easy enough to do it and stay put. It's the theatrical Comeback in broad day To the same place, the same face, the same brute Amused shout: 'A miracle!' That knocks me out. There is a charge For the eyeing of my scars, there is a charge For the hearing of my heart-- It really goes. And there is a charge, a very large charge For a word or a touch Or a bit of blood Or a piece of my hair or my clothes. So, so, Herr Doktor. So, Herr Enemy. I am your opus, I am your valuable, The pure gold baby That melts to a shriek. I turn and burn. Do not think I underestimate your great concern. Ash, ash-- You poke and stir. Flesh, bone, there is nothing there-- A cake of soap, A wedding ring, A gold filling. Herr God, Herr Lucifer Beware Beware. Out of the ash I rise with my red hair And I eat men like air. -- written 23-29 October 1962

Why do you look?” I mutter. I half expect Magiano to tease me, spitting back one of his sarcastic phrases. But he doesn’t smile. “We are drawn to stories," he says in a soft voice, “and every scar carries one.” He lifts a hand and places his palm gently against the ruined side of my face, covering the scar. I look down, embarrassed now. Instinctively, I reach up to brush some of my hair over my face—only to remember that I no longer have long locks. “Hiding it makes you more beautiful,” Magiano says. Then he takes his hand away, exposing my scar again. “But revealing it makes you you.” He nods at me. “So wear it proudly.

Violet Sorrengail,' she whispers, moving closer. 'Are you wearing Riorson's flight jacket?' Liam's head snaps in my direction, curse his stupidly good hearing. 'Why would you say that?' I do a shitty job of feigning shock and shove the sheaths into every available pocket in this thing. All three of them, which are considerably deeper than the ones in my own jacket. 'Oh, I don't know. Because it's huge on you and there are three stars right here?' She taps where there's only one star on her uniform. Well, shit. Just goes to show that neither of us was thinking clearly. 'It could be any third-year's.' I shrug. 'With a Fourth Wing shield on the shoulder?' She cocks an eyebrow. 'That does limit it a bit,' I agree. 'And a wingleader emblem beneath those stars?' she teases. 'Fine, it's his.

Emperor, right." she retacked the curtain "That's weird to say, after eighteen years of listening to celebrity gossip feeds go on and on about 'Earth's favorite prince'". She claimed one of the lumpy sofa cushions, curling her legs beneath her. "I had a picture of him taped to my wall when I was fifteen. Grand-mere cut it off a cereal box." Wolf scowled. "Of course, half the girls in the world probably have had that same picture from that same cereal box." Wolf scrunched his shoulders against his neck, and Scarlet grinned, teasing. "Oh, no. You're not going to have to fight him for pack dominance now are you? Come here." She beckoned him with a wave of her hand and he was at her side in half a second, the glower softening as he pulled her against his chest.

I once spoke to someone who had survived the genocide in Rwanda, and she said to me that there was now nobody left on the face of the earth, either friend or relative, who knew who she was. No one who remembered her girlhood and her early mischief and family lore; no sibling or boon companion who could tease her about that first romance; no lover or pal with whom to reminisce. All her birthdays, exam results, illnesses, friendships, kinships—gone. She went on living, but with a tabula rasa as her diary and calendar and notebook. I think of this every time I hear of the callow ambition to 'make a new start' or to be 'born again': Do those who talk this way truly wish for the slate to be wiped? Genocide means not just mass killing, to the level of extermination, but mass obliteration to the verge of extinction. You wish to have one more reflection on what it is to have been made the object of a 'clean' sweep? Try Vladimir Nabokov's microcosmic miniature story 'Signs and Symbols,' which is about angst and misery in general but also succeeds in placing it in what might be termed a starkly individual perspective. The album of the distraught family contains a faded study of Aunt Rosa, a fussy, angular, wild-eyed old lady, who had lived in a tremulous world of bad news, bankruptcies, train accidents, cancerous growths—until the Germans put her to death, together with all the people she had worried about.

Hitch: making rules about drinking can be the sign of an alcoholic,' as Martin Amis once teasingly said to me. (Adorno would have savored that, as well.) Of course, watching the clock for the start-time is probably a bad sign, but here are some simple pieces of advice for the young. Don't drink on an empty stomach: the main point of the refreshment is the enhancement of food. Don't drink if you have the blues: it's a junk cure. Drink when you are in a good mood. Cheap booze is a false economy. It's not true that you shouldn't drink alone: these can be the happiest glasses you ever drain. Hangovers are another bad sign, and you should not expect to be believed if you take refuge in saying you can't properly remember last night. (If you really don't remember, that's an even worse sign.) Avoid all narcotics: these make you more boring rather than less and are not designed—as are the grape and the grain—to enliven company. Be careful about up-grading too far to single malt Scotch: when you are voyaging in rough countries it won't be easily available. Never even think about driving a car if you have taken a drop. It's much worse to see a woman drunk than a man: I don't know quite why this is true but it just is. Don't ever be responsible for it.

Yet, the work was not complete. Next, citing Bond’s veranda and our subsequent construction of it as an example, Sanjit elaborated on the thought which he had previously teased, but not fully explained: that when a reader reads, the reader constructs a setting and world and is able to view themselves through this world. However, he also added that when we read, we are not only able to see our constructed world, but to evaluate our constructed world. This is how, Sanjit would argue, we influence and better ourselves, even if unintentionally; for by pausing and analyzing our constructions we may be able to identify our assumptions about people, places, or things. And it is in this way that books may be an expressed form of art, not just for the writer, but also for the reader.

Her hands brushed Shane's, and he let go of the cards and took hold. And then somehow she was in his lap, and he was kissing her. Hadn't meant to do that but...well. She couldn't exactly be sorry about it, because he tasted amazing, and his lips were so soft and his hands were so strong... He leaned back, eyes half shut, and he was smiling. Shane didn't smile all that much, and it always left her breathless and tingling. There was a secrecy about it like he only ever smiled at her, and it just felt... perfect. 'Claire, you're being careful right?' He smoothed hair back from her face. 'Seriously. You'd tell me if you got into trouble?' 'No trouble,' She lied, thinking about Monica's not-so veiled threats, and that glimpse of Shane's dad seated across from Oliver in the coffee shop.'No trouble at all.' 'Good.' He kissed her again, then moved down her jawline to her neck, and, wow neck nibbles took her breath away. She closed her eyes and buried her fingers in his warm hair, trying to tell him through every touch how much she liked this, like him, loved... Her eyes came open, fast. She did not just think about that. Shane’s warm hands moved up her sides, thumbs grazing the sides of her breasts again, and he traced his fingers across the thin skin of her collarbone...down to where the neck of her T-shirt stopped him. Teasing. Pulling it down an inch, then two. And then, maddeningly, he let go and leaned back, lips damp. He licked them, watching her, and then gave her that slow crazy, sexy smile again. 'Go to bed' he said. 'Before I decide to come with.

If you'll kiss me back," he whispered huskily, brushing his lips along the curve of her jaw, "I'll make it six million. If you'll go to bed with me tonight," he continued, losing himself in the scent of her perfume and the softness of her skin, "I'll give you the world. But if you'll move in with me," he continued, dragging his mouth across her cheek to the corner of her lips, "I'll do much better than that." Unable to turn her face farther because his arm was in the way, and unable to turn her body because his body was in the way, Meredith tried to infuse disdain in her voice and simultaneously ignore the arousing touch of his tongue against her ear. "Six million dollars and the whole world!" she said in a slightly shaky voice. "What else could you possibly give me if I move in with you?" "Paradise." Lifting his head, Matt took her chin between his thumb and forefinger and forced her to meet his gaze. In an aching, solemn voice he said, "I'll give you paradise on a gold platter. Anything you want— everything you want. I come with it, of course. It's a package deal." Meredith wallowed audibly, mesmerized by the melting look in his silver eyes and the rich timbre of his deep voice. "We'll be a family," he continued, describing the paradise he was offering while he bent his head to her again. "We'll have children ... I'd like six," he teased, his lips against her temple. "But I'll settle for one. You don't have to decide now." She drew in a ragged breath and Matt decided he'd pushed matters as far as he dared for one night. Straightening abruptly, he chucked her under her chin. "Think about it," he suggested with a grin.

I want to see the front of you.” “That’s what all the girls say.” “Do you expect me to roll you over? ’Cuz I will.” “Your mate’s not going to like this.” “As if that’s going to bother you?” “True. It actually makes it worth the effort.” With a groan, he shoved his palms into the shimmering silver pool of blood beneath him, and flopped over like the side of beef he was. “Wow,” she breathed. “I know, right? Hung like a horse.” “If you’re really nice—and you live through this—I’ll promise not to tell V.” “About my size.” She laughed a little. “No, that you assumed I’d look at you in any fashion other than professionally.

Just So You Know You fall in love with every book you touch. You never break the spine or tear the pages. That would be cruel. You have secret favorites but, when asked, you say that you could never choose. But did you know that books fall in love with you, too? They watch you from the shelf while you sleep. Are you dreaming of them, they wonder, in that wistful mood books are prone to at night when they’re bored and there’s nothing else to do but tease the cat. Remember that pale yellow book you read when you were sixteen? It changed your world, that book. It changed your dreams. You carried it around until it was old and thin and sparkles no longer rose from the pages and filled the air when you opened it, like it did when it was new. You should know that it still thinks of you. It would like to get together sometime, maybe over coffee next month, so you can see how much you’ve both changed. And the book about the donkey your father read to you every night when you were three, it’s still around – older, a little worse for wear. But it still remembers the way your laughter made its pages tremble with joy. Then there was that book, just last week, in the bookstore. It caught your eye. You looked away quickly, but it was too late. You felt the rush. You picked it up and stroked your hand over its glassy cover. It knew you were The One. But, for whatever reason, you put it back and walked away. Maybe you were trying to be practical. Maybe you thought there wasn’t room enough, time enough, energy enough. But you’re thinking about it now, aren’t you? You fall in love so easily. But just so you know, they do, too.

THE BAGPIPE WHO DIDN'T SAY NO It was nine o'clock at midnight at a quarter after three When a turtle met a bagpipe on the shoreside by the sea, And the turtle said, "My dearie, May I sit with you? I'm weary." And the bagpipe didn't say no. Said the turtle to the bagpipe, "I have walked this lonely shore, I have talked to waves and pebbles--but I've never loved before. Will you marry me today, dear? Is it 'No' you're going to say dear?" But the bagpipe didn't say no. Said the turtle to his darling, "Please excuse me if I stare, But you have the plaidest skin, dear, And you have the strangest hair. If I begged you pretty please, love, Could I give you just one squeeze, love?" And the bagpipe didn't say no. Said the turtle to the bagpipe, "Ah, you love me. Then confess! Let me whisper in your dainty ear and hold you to my chest." And he cuddled her and teased her And so lovingly he squeezed her. And the bagpipe said, "Aaooga." Said the turtle to the bagpipe, "Did you honk or bray or neigh? For 'Aaooga' when your kissed is such a heartless thing to say. Is it that I have offended? Is it that our love is ended?" And the bagpipe didn't say no. Said the turtle to the bagpipe, "Shall i leave you, darling wife? Shall i waddle off to Woedom? Shall i crawl out of your life? Shall I move, depart and go, dear-- Oh, I beg you tell me 'No' dear!" But the bagpipe didn't say no. So the turtle crept off crying and he ne'er came back no more, And he left the bagpipe lying on that smooth and sandy shore. And some night when tide is low there, Just walk up and say, "Hello, there," And politely ask the bagpipe if this story's really so. I assure you, darling children, the bagpipe won't say "No.

Halt?" he said diffidently. He heard a deep sigh from the short, slightly built man riding beside him. Mentally he kicked himself. I thought you must be coming down with some illness for a moment there," Halt said straight faced. "It must be two or three minutes since you've asked a question." Commited now, Horace continued. One of those girls," he began, and immediately felt the Ranger's eyes on him. "She was wearing a very short skirt." There was the slightest pause. Yes?" Halt prompted, not sure where this conversation was leading. Horace shrugged uncomfortably. The memory of the girl, and her shapely legs, was causing his cheeks to burn with embarrassment again. Well," he said uncertainly, "I just wondered if that was normal over, that's all." Halt considered the serious young face beside him. He cleared his throat several times. I believe that sometimes Gallican girls take jobs as couriers. he said. Couriers. They carry messages from one person to another. Or from one buisness to another, in towns and cities." Halt checked to see if Horace seemed to believe him so far. There seemed no reason to think otherwise, so he added: "Urgent messages." Urgent messages," Horace replied, still not seeing the connection. But he seemed inclined to believe what Halt was saying, so the older man continued. And I suppose for a really urgent message, one would have to run." Now he saw a glimmer of understanding in the boy's eyes. Horace nodded several times as he made the connection. So, the short skirts...they'd be to help them run more easily?" he suggested. Halt nodded in his turn. It would be more sensible for of dress than long skirts, if you wanted to do a lot of runnig." He shot a quick look at Horace to see if his gentle teasing was not being turned back on himself-to see if, in fact, the boy realized Halt was talking nosense and was simply leading him on. Horace's face, however, was open and believing. I suppose so," Horace replied finally, then added in a softer voice, "They certainly look a lot better that way too.