Bed Quotes

#1. It was a holy night. I ran. My father slept soundly in his bed, somewhere far behind me, and I ran. Elsewhere in the world masses were being performed and stock was being taken of the glories and retreats of life - and it was nothing to me, because I ran. I was naked in the woods. It was a beautiful outrage. #Quote by Joshua Gaylord

#2. Upstairs, in what had been until then the cash office, Young Sam slept peacefully in a makeshift bed. One day, Vimes hoped, he would be able to tell him that on one special night he'd been guarded by four troll watchmen. They'd been off duty but volunteered to come in for this, and were just itching for some dwarfs to try anything. Sam hoped the boy would be impressed; the most other kids could hope for was angels. #Quote by Terry Pratchett

#3. The Mad Gardener's Song

He thought he saw an Elephant,
That practised on a fife:
He looked again, and found it was
A letter from his wife.
'At length I realise,' he said,
'The bitterness of Life!'

He thought he saw a Buffalo
Upon the chimney-piece:
He looked again, and found it was
His Sister's Husband's Niece.
'Unless you leave this house,' he said,
'I'll send for the Police!'

He thought he saw a Rattlesnake
That questioned him in Greek:
He looked again, and found it was
The Middle of Next Week.
'The one thing I regret,' he said,
'Is that it cannot speak!'

He thought he saw a Banker's Clerk
Descending from the bus:
He looked again, and found it was
A Hippopotamus.
'If this should stay to dine,' he said,
'There won't be much for us!'

He thought he saw a Kangaroo
That worked a coffee-mill:
He looked again, and found it was
A Vegetable-Pill.
'Were I to swallow this,' he said,
'I should be very ill!'

He thought he saw a Coach-and-Four
That stood beside his bed:
He looked again, and found it was
A Bear without a Head.
'Poor thing,' he said, 'poor silly thing!
It's waiting to be fed!'

He thought he saw an Albatross
That fluttered round the lamp:
He looked again, and found it was
A Penny-Postage Stamp.
'You'd best be ge #Quote by Lewis Carroll

#4. Life is always either a tightrope or a feather bed. Give me the tightrope. #Quote by Edith Wharton

#5. Solitude is the worst of punishments. It's like waiting in the Death Row for your last supper and the final blow, the chair or gas or whatever. The utter act of capital punishment, except it's lasting an eternity. You'd say being alone, single, can have an array of possibilities, positive sides. You'd argue when being approached with such a statement! You'd mention how good it feels to be independent, to have a free choice, not depending on anyone else's opinion. The space in your life, the remote in your hand that is not wrestled for, the cookies, still present in the jar, waiting for you to eat them. The wide bed and the covers just for your own pleasure and usage. I can see you throwing your arguments at me, fighting passionately since you strongly believe that what you say, is the truth.
And then, the night falls, devouring your clearly visible assumptions and postulates, making some room for doubt and fright. You hear the silence that grows around you, feel it possessing you from the inside and you don't have time to brace yourself for what's coming. The horrid feeling of incompletion and senseless existence catch you with overpowering force, making your throat shrink and your mind tight. You're scared so much that all seems so dark and eerie. Then, you ask yourself whether it was really you who chose this, who decided upon this unbearable state of utter loneliness. The answer is usually the same. It is always you, always me. Not consciously, but by our choices, we #Quote by Magdalena Ganowska

#6. His mouth closes in on mine, and that single second before our lips meet spins out for eternity. And it makes graphs and flow-charts and PowerPoints underlining all the reasons we should absolutely not be doing this.
But we are.
We so completely are.
Winch walks me back to the bed and lies me down, his entire body pressed long and perfectly weighted over mine. He kisses me with a gentle, coaxing pressure for a few minutes, like he's taking my temperature, gauging my heart rate, and determining if I'm in.
I'm all in. #Quote by Liz Reinhardt

#7. Somewhere in the process I started writing toward an answer to the question I wake up with every morning and go to bed with every night. How do I find hope on a dying planet, and if there is no hope to be found, how do I live in its absence? In what state of being? Respect? Tenderness? Unmitigated love? The rich and sometimes deeply clarifying dreamscape of vast inconsolable grief? #Quote by Pam Houston

#8. I followed the river to the shallows where it spoke of its bed, in whispering tones as gentle as the sun's growing warmth. #Quote by Miles Richardson

#9. Every woman is as bitter as gall. But she has two good moments: one in bed, the other at her death. #Quote by Palladas

#10. When, as a child, I first opened my eyes on a Sunday-morning, a feeling of dismal anicipation, which began at least on the Friday,culminated. I knew what was before me, and my wish, if not my word, was "Would God it were evening!" It was no day of rest, but a day of texts, of catechisms (Watts'), of tracts about converted swearers, godly charwomen, and edifying deaths of sinners saved ... There was but one rosy spot, in the distance, all that day: and that was "bed-time," which never could come too early! #Quote by Lewis Carroll

#11. Holy shit!" Daisy screeches. She dives off the bed and races over to Grace, while I stand in front of them smirking the smirk of all smirks. #Quote by Elle Kennedy

#12. I was going crazy. My brain had just shit the bed on me. #Quote by Jennifer L. Armentrout

#13. Of course, when you fall out of love, it's rarely about just one failure or one betrayal, is it? ...
How does it happen? All those things you once loved about each other are replaced by other things that remind you of something you hate until you're always setting each other off, and what you share is a battleground. In the end, the failure turns out to be less about sex - which surprises most men - and more about loss of respect. One morning your partner looks at you across the bed and wonders at the waywardness of her own heart - how, she asks herself, can she feel such disdain for someone she once felt such love? #Quote by Frederick Weisel

#14. Her face burned with shame. Even wedded and sharing a bed, no man would touch a woman as he had touched her. #Quote by Arla Dahl

#15. had the strength of will not to allow them to fall. "Those men may wish to bed me, my lord, seeing me as exotic and strange, #Quote by Bethany M. Sefchick

#16. What is so rewarding about friendship?" my son asked, curling his upper lip into a sour expression. "Making friends takes too much time and effort, and for what?"

I sat on the edge of his bed, understanding how it might seem simpler to go at life solo.

"Friendship has unique rewards," I told him. "They can be unpredictable. For instance...." I couldn't help but pause to smile crookedly at an old memory that was dear to my heart. Then I shared with my son an unforgettable incident from my younger years.

"True story. When I was about your age, I decided to try out for a school play. Tryouts were to begin after the last class of the day, but first I had to run home to grab a couple props for the monologue I planned to perform during tryouts. Silly me, I had left them at the house that morning. Luckily, I only lived across a long expanse of grassy field that separated the school from the nearest neighborhood. Unluckily, it was raining and I didn't have an umbrella.

"Determined to get what I needed, I raced home, grabbed my props, and tore back across the field while my friend waited under the dry protection of the school's wooden eaves. She watched me run in the rain, gesturing for me to go faster while calling out to hurry up or we would be late.

"The rain was pouring by that time which was added reason for me to move fast. I didn't want to look like a wet rat on stage in front of dozens of fellow students. Don't ask #Quote by Richelle E. Goodrich

#17. There was a muffled tap again, and I heard a familiar voice whisper faintly, "Kelsey, it's me."
I unlocked the door and peeked out. Ren was standing there dressed in his white clothes, barefoot, with a triumphant grin on his face. I pulled him inside and hissed out thickly, "What are you doing here? It's dangerous coming into town! You could have been seen, and they'd send hunters out after you!"
He shrugged his shoulders and grinned. "I missed you."
My mouth quirked up in a half smile. "I missed you too."
He leaned a shoulder nonchalantly against the doorframe. "Does that mean you'll let me stay here? I'll sleep on the floor and leave before daylight. No one will see me. I promise."
I let out a deep breath. "Okay, but promise you'll leave early. I don't like you risking yourself like this."
"I promise." He sat down on the bed, took my hand, and pulled me down to sit beside him. "I don't like sleeping in the dark jungle by myself."
"I wouldn't either."
He looked down at our entwined hands. "When I'm with you, I feel like a man again. When I'm out there all alone, I feel like a beast, an animal." His eyes darted up to mine.
I squeezed his hand. "I understand. It's fine. Really."
He grinned. "You were hard to track, you know. Lucky for me you two decided to walk to dinner, so I could follow your scent right to your door."
Something on the nightstand caught his attention. Leaning around me, he reached over and picked up my o #Quote by Colleen Houck

#18. Ah, well,' I said resignedly, 'if that's that, that's that, what?' 'So it would appear, sir.' 'Nothing to do but keep the chin up and the upper lip as stiff as can be managed. I think I'll go to bed with an improving book. Have you read The Mystery of the Pink Crayfish by Rex West? #Quote by P.G. Wodehouse

#19. I haven't been to sleep for over a year. That's why I go to bed early. One needs more rest if one doesn't sleep. #Quote by Evelyn Waugh

#20. I believe everyone should have a good death. You know, with your grandchildren around you, a bit of sobbing. Because after all, tears are appropriate on a death bed. And you say goodbye to your loved ones, making certain that one of them has been left behind to look after the shop. #Quote by Terry Pratchett

#21. Angry men make themselves beds of nettles. #Quote by Samuel Richardson

#22. [On her husband:] The other day he woke up with a headache. I felt sorry for him. I would like to help him but I can't. I told him so many times. When he jumps out of bed - it should be feet first. #Quote by Jean Carroll

#23. Sometimes you climb out of bed in the morning and you think, I'm not going to make it, but you laugh inside - remembering all the times you've felt that way. #Quote by Charles Bukowski

#24. My sister compares her body to a junkyard and I find bits of scrap metal beneath her bed from boys who bury promises in her belly. Maybe love ruins you a little bit. Maybe we don't care. We are so young to hate everything so much. Can recite the periodic table from memory but still can't quite believe it when they say that they love us, too. #Quote by Kristina Haynes

#25. Several years ago I was lecturing in British Columbia. Dr [Simon] Wessely was speaking and he gave a thoroughly enjoyable lecture on M.E. and CFS. He had the hundreds of staff physicians laughing themselves silly over the invented griefs of the M.E. and CFS patients who according to Dr Wessely had no physical illness what so ever but a lot of misguided imagination. I was appalled at his sheer effectiveness, the amazing control he had over the minds of the staid physicians….His message was very clear and very simple. If I can paraphrase him: "M.E. and CFS are non-existent illnesses with no pathology what-so-ever. There is no reason why they all cannot return to work tomorrow.

The next morning I left by car with my crew and arrived in Kelowna British Columbia that afternoon. We were staying at a patient's house who had severe M.E. with dysautanomia and was for all purposes bed ridden or house bound most of the day. That morning she had received a phone call from her insurance company in Toronto. (Toronto is approximately 2742 miles from Vancouver). The insurance call was as follows and again I paraphrase:
"Physicians at a University of British Columbia University have demonstrated that there is no pathological or physiological basis for M.E. or CFS. Your disability benefits have been stopped as of this month. You will have to pay back the funds we have sent you previously. We will contact you shortly with the exact amount you owe us".

That night I s #Quote by Byron Hyde

#26. Lysandra had entered and passed out in her bed with no explanation for why or what she'd been doing beforehand. And since she was utterly unconscious, Aelin had just climbed into bed beside her. #Quote by Sarah J. Maas

#27. Whereas men of an older school, like myself, smoke for the pleasure of smoking, men of this school smoke for the pleasure of pipe-owning-of selecting which of their many white-spotted pipes they will fill with their specially blended tobacco, of filling the one so chosen, of lighting it, of taking it from the mouth to gaze lovingly at the white spot and thus letting it go out, of lighting it again and letting it go out again, of polishing it up with their own special polisher and putting it to bed, and then the pleasure of beginning all over again with another white-spotted one. #Quote by A.A. Milne

#28. In Plaster

I shall never get out of this! There are two of me now:
This new absolutely white person and the old yellow one,
And the white person is certainly the superior one.
She doesn't need food, she is one of the real saints.

At the beginning I hated her, she had no personality --
She lay in bed with me like a dead body

And I was scared, because she was shaped just the way I was 


Only much whiter and unbreakable and with no complaints.
I couldn't sleep for a week, she was so cold.
I blamed her for everything, but she didn't answer.

I couldn't understand her stupid behavior!

When I hit her she held still, like a true pacifist.

Then I realized what she wanted was for me to love her:
She began to warm up, and I saw her advantages.



Without me, she wouldn't exist, so of course she was grateful.

I gave her a soul, I bloomed out of her as a rose

Blooms out of a vase of not very valuable porcelain,
And it was I who attracted everybody's attention,

Not her whiteness and beauty, as I had at first supposed.

I patronized her a little, and she lapped it up --

You could tell almost at once she had a slave mentality.



I didn't mind her waiting on me, and she adored it.

In the morning she woke me early, reflecting the sun

From her amazingly white torso, and I couldn't help but notice

Her tidiness and her calmness and her #Quote by Sylvia Plath

#29. I like to do things in bed. I fold the laundry on the bed. Food tastes better to me when I'm under the covers. Bed is the only place to read, the best place to talk on the phone. #Quote by Elizabeth Berg

#30. Come on - let's go back to bed," he told Tom. "What do you think will happen then?" "I'm going to fuck you." "Suppose I wanted to fuck you?" Prophet asked. Tom raised his eyebrow, and Prophet cursed softly, remembering. "You insisted on putting it in there," Tom reminded him with a smirk. "Fuck me." "Yeah, I'm trying, Proph." Tom's voice was quiet but firm. #Quote by S.E. Jakes

#31. I watched myself slowly get up to leave. I watched myself start walking. I watched myself thump down the stairs and turn the handle of the front door, wiping my eyes with the backs of my hands. I watched myself get into my car and turn it on, and back out of Cole's driveway and drive home. And I watched myself come home and go up to my bedroom and shut the door. I watched myself pull off my clothes and step into pajamas, all in the dark, and curl up in bed and stare at the ceiling, the tears leaking into my ears, the scene replaying on the blades of the ceiling fan. But it was like watching myself from the end of a long, black tunnel. The poor girl on the other end-she was bruised and confused and beaten, and I felt sorry for her. Whoever she was. #Quote by Jennifer Brown

#32. It was the first time he'd persuaded a girl into bed by mentioning the possibility of fleas. #Quote by Karen Chance

#33. You don't need an alarm clock when you sleep with 20 models a night, one of those broads'll figure out that they better make breakfast in bed or I'll kill all of them. #Quote by Zach Braff

#34. I don't think that you can say by any stretch of the imagination that all Wisconsin or Brooklyn-based poets write in a particular way. Similar sensibilities can spring up next to each other in the flower bed, or across oceans. #Quote by Matthea Harvey

#35. We drove down Corydon avenue towards my mother's apartment. How are you doing, she asked me? Fine, fine, I said. I wanted to tell her that I felt I was dying from rage and that I felt guilty about everything and that when I was a kid I woke up every morning singing, that I couldn't wait to leap out of bed and rush out of the house into the magical kingdom that was my world, that dust made visible in sunbeams gave me real authentic joy, that my sparkly golden banana-seated bike with the very high sissy bar took my breath away, the majesty of it, that it was mine, that there was no freer soul in the world than me at age nine, and that now I wake up every morning reminding myself that control is an illusion, taking deep breaths and counting to ten trying to ward off panic attacks and hoping that my own hands hadn't managed to strangle me while I slept. #Quote by Miriam Toews

#36. She would never again lie in bed on a Good Friday morning and relax in the blissful knowledge that there was nothing to do and nowhere to be, because for the rest of her life, there would always, always be something left undone. An unmade confession. An ugly secret. #Quote by Liane Moriarty

#37. The tourist business is a trap, it is a tained honey; Man clearly should have stayed in bed, and not invented money. #Quote by Kenneth E. Boulding

#38. To put it another way, every love relationship is based upon unwritten conventions rashly agreed upon by the lovers during the first weeks of their love. On the one hand, they are living a sort of dream; on the other, without realizing it, they are drawing up the fine print of their contracts like the most hard-nosed of lawyers. O lovers! Be wary during those perilous first days! If you serve the other party breakfast in bed, you will be obliged to continue same in perpetuity or face charges of animosity and treason! #Quote by Milan Kundera

#39. For example, the first time Aunt B came to the Pack Council, he took it upon himself to lecture her about how men should be men and women should be women, and Clan alphas should be men with women helping them, not the other way around."

I laughed. "What did she do?"

"She patted his shoulder and said, 'Bless your heart, you must be awful in bed.'"

Ha!

"Then she turned to Martha and told her that if she ever was in need of a man who respected women enough to think they were human beings she had several available in her clan."

That sounded like Aunt B.

"Mahon turned purple and didn't say another word through the whole Council meeting. #Quote by Ilona Andrews

#40. It's not that fact of him telling me he's not going to kill me that assures me I've got some time to breathe. Predo could look me in the eye and tell me whiskey's good and cigarettes are better and I'd still need a drink and a Lucky to believe he's not lying. The man breeds lies. He spawns them asexually, with no need for any assistance. He exhales and lies fill the air. Alone in a room, he mutters lies to himself to keep from falling into the trap of truth-telling. In the day, sleeping in his bed, deep in the safest heart of Coalition headquarters, he dreams in lies. The better to keep his left hand from knowing what betrayals his right has planned.
Stretched on the rack and burned with hot irons, Dexter Predo will be in no danger of revealing the truth. Living so far beyond its borders. #Quote by Charlie Huston

#41. The creative act is a letting down of the net of human imagination into the ocean of chaos on which we are suspended, and the attempt to bring out of it ideas.
It is the night sea journey, the lone fisherman on a tropical sea with his nets, and you let these nets down - sometimes, something tears through them that leaves them in shreds and you just row for shore, and put your head under your bed and pray.
At other times what slips through are the minutiae, the minnows of this ichthyological metaphor of idea chasing.
But, sometimes, you can actually bring home something that is food, food for the human community that we can sustain ourselves on and go forward. #Quote by Terence McKenna

#42. Etsuko had to go back to the restaurant, but she settled on the sofa for a few minutes. When she had been a young mother there used to be only one time in her waking hours where she'd felt a kind of peace, and that was always after her children went to bed for the night. She longed to see her sons as they were back then: their legs chubby and white, their mushroom haircuts misshapen because they could never sit still at the barber. She wished she could take back the times she had scolded her children just because she was tired. There were so many errors. If life allowed revisions, she would let them stay in their bath a little longer, read them one more story before bed, and fix them another plate of shrimp. #Quote by Min Jin Lee

#43. When you're the Woman Upstairs, nobody thinks of you first. Nobody calls you before anyone else, or sends you the first postcard. Once your mother dies, nobody loves you best of all. It's a small thing, you might think; and maybe it depends upon your temperament; maybe for some people it's a small thing. But for me, in that cul-de-sac outside Aunt Baby's, with my father and aunt done dissecting death and shuffling off to bed behind the crimson farmhouse door, preparing for morning mass as blameless as lambs and as lifeless as the slaughtered - I felt forsaken by hope. I felt I'd been seen, and seen clearly, and discarded, dropped back into the undiscriminated pile like a shell upon the shore. #Quote by Claire Messud

#44. He didn't deserve someone like Lorcan. He'd turned Lorcan's pure and wonderful feelings into something ugly, something to be ashamed of. He stepped into his room, shutting the door quietly behind him, sitting on the edge of the bed with his head in his hands as he listened to Lorcan move around his room. He did something he hadn't allowed himself since his daddy had passed. He cried - for his loss, for what could have been ... but mostly, he cried in shame. #Quote by S.J.D. Peterson

#45. Sometimes, I guess, an over-valent idea enters the mind as a problem, or imaginary problem. This is not so rare. You are getting ready for bed, late at night, and all of a sudden the idea comes into your mind that you did not shut off your car lights. You look out the window at your car-which is parked in your driveway in plain sight-and you can see that it shows no lights. But then you think: Maybe I left the lights on and they stayed on so long that they ran the battery down. So to be sure, I must go out and check. You put on your robe and go out, unlock the car door, get in and pull on the headlight switch. The lights come on. You turn them off, get out, lock up the car and return to the house. What has happened is that you have gone crazy; you have become psychotic. Because you have discounted the testimony of your senses; you could see out the window that the car lights were not on, yet you went out to check anyhow. This is the cardinal factor: you saw but you did not believe. Or, conversely, you did not see something but you believed it anyhow. Theoretically, you could travel between your bedroom and the car forever, trapped in an eternal closed loop of unlocking the car, trying the light switch, returning to the house-in this regard you herewith are a machine. You are no longer human. #Quote by Philip K. Dick

#46. Some men like a dull life - they like the routine of eating breakfast, going to work, coming home, petting the dog, watching TV, kissing the kids, and going to bed. Stay clear of it - it's often catching. #Quote by Hedy Lamarr

#47. I pray daily, and I pray in all kinds of places. I mean, I pray in bed, I pray in the Oval Office. I pray a lot. And just different as the spirit moves me. And faith is an integral part of my life. #Quote by George W. Bush

#48. It felt almost rude to ignore toe pretty white bed, but we just weren't going to make it that far. #Quote by Stephenie Meyer

#49. But what of Ham? It didn't matter if he told anyone about his drunken father or not, if he chided him or tried to dress him, if he lifted his struggling body back into bed, if he took his hand and told him where to place his feet, none of this changed the fact of what he'd seen. It's possible he opened a door innocently, followed the sound of Noah's voice cursing God and the sky, possible he didn't even look, that he turned away before seeing. And it's likely that Noah hadn't noticed the door opening, couldn't have told you who had come in, which son, wouldn't remember anyway. Apparently it's God's call. Ham saw his father drunken and naked, and for this he was cursed, and all of his offspring, and the races that led from these offspring, accursed forever. #Quote by Nick Flynn

#50. Trueborn children are made in a marriage bed and blessed by the Father and the Mother, but bastards are born of lust and weakness. #Quote by George R R Martin

#51. I was a hoarder, and I got rid of everything. Now nothing comes in my home unless it has a purpose. And decor is not a purpose. Home is New York apartment with a table, a bed and sofas. That's it. Everything else is gone. #Quote by Linda Evangelista

#52. No more monkeys jumping on the bed! #Quote by Eileen Christelow

#53. Because it hardly ends with falling in love. Just the opposite. I don't need to tell you, Your Honor, I sense that you understand true loneliness. How you fall in love and it's there that the work begins: day after day, year after year, you must dig yourself up, exhume the contents of your mind and sould for the other to sift through so that you might be known to him, and you, too, must spend days and years wading through all that he excavates for you alone, the archaeology of his being, how exhausting it became, the digging up and the wading through, while my own work, my true work, lay waiting for me. Yes, I always thought there would be more time left for me, more time left for us, and for the child we might one day have, but I never felt that my work could be put aside as they could, my husband and the idea of our child, a little boy or girl that I sometimes even tried to imagine, but always only vaguely enough that he or she remained a ghostly emissary of our future, just her back while she sat playing with her blocks on the floor, or just his feet sticking out of the blanket on our bed, a tiny pair of feet. What of it, there would be time for them, for the life they stood for, the one I was not yet prepared to live because I had not yet done what I had meant to do in this one. #Quote by Nicole Krauss

#54. A dark flask dangled from the bedpost like a ripe fruit. Someone he could not see was seated beside his bed. He turned his head and craned his neck to no avail. At last he extended a hand toward the visitor; and the visitor took it between his own, which were large and hard and warm. As soon as their hands touched, he knew. You said you weren't going to help, he told the visitor. You said I wasn't to expect help from you, yet here you are. The visitor did not reply, but his hands were clean and gentle and full of healing. #Quote by Gene Wolfe

#55. Look guys, if you're just going to stare at me, I'm going to bed! #Quote by Elvis Presley

#56. I like it here. I just want to walk the wind, watch you play rugby. Make kites for Agnes and do things, when I can - and come to bed with you at the end of the day. I've stopped running."
"You fell?"
"I landed. #Quote by K.J. Charles

#57. My best advice is to work out with a buddy. They keep you motivated and get you out of bed. #Quote by Heidi Klum

#58. As he waited for her, he braced himself for the sight of her, ready to turn out the light as soon as she reached her bed.
But when Daniela came in, she wasn't wearing her nightgown. She returned from the bathroom in a bath towel. And then she locked the door behind her and dropped the towel. Drops of water glistened on her naked skin as if she'd been painted with diamonds.
"Christ," he breathed. #Quote by Dana Marton

#59. Raindrops the size of bullets thundered on the castle windows for days on end; the lake rose, the flower beds turned into muddy streams, and Hagrid's pumpkins swelled to the size of garden sheds. #Quote by J.K. Rowling

#60. I'm out of bed before the alarm goes off. #Quote by Eric Dane

#61. When I was a kid, I was always going to bed creating a story, and that was the birth of filmmaking for me. I would like going to the dream-state by telling the story to someone else in my mind. That was my imaginary friend; it was an imaginary audience listening to my story. #Quote by Denis Villeneuve

#62. I'm good at loving books. I'm good at loving soft bed sheets. I'm good at loving coffees and teas. I am good at loving things that can't love me back, that don't have the power to leave. And maybe, that's why I love them. #Quote by Andrea Gibson

#63. I feel most ministers who claim they've heard God's voice are eating too much pizza before they go to bed at night, and it's really an intestinal disorder, not a revelation. #Quote by Jerry Falwell

#64. they say a baby's true babtism occurs when hefirst falls out of bed #Quote by Lucia Berlin

#65. Lighter and lighter, until at last the sun touched the tops of the still trees, a poured the radiance over the hill. in the glow, the water of the chateau fountain seem to turn to blood, and the stone faces crimsond. the coral of the birds was loud and high, and, on the weather-beaten sill of the great window of the bed-chamber of monsieur the morquis, one little bird sang its sweetest song with all its might. at this,the nearest stone face seemed to stare amazed, and, with open mouthand dropped under-jaw, looked awe- stricken. #Quote by Charles Dickens

#66. Do you think anyone found out about that?" B. J. Asks, sounding nervous.
"Found out about what?" I ask, trying to imagine why I would say that to my fake girlfriend. Maybe if she asked "Do you think anyone found out about that?" meaning, "Do you think anyone found out about us having sex in my parents' bed?" or something. I hope Courtney is smart enough to infer that that's what is probably going on. I wonder if it would be going too far to actually come out and say, "You mean about the doggie-style we had?"
"Found out about the pot we bought!" B. J. Says, sounding exasperated. He's been sounding exasperated with me a lot lately. #Quote by Lauren Barnholdt

#67. How long Archibald slept he could not have said. He woke some hours later with a vague feeling that a thunderstorm of unusual violence had broken out in his immediate neighborhood. But this, he realized as the mists of slumber cleared away, was an error. The noise which had disturbed him was not thunder but the sound of someone snoring. Snoring like the dickens. The walls seemed to be vibrating like the deck of an ocean liner....

His spirit was not so completely broken as to make him lie supinely down beneath that snoring. The sound filled him, as snoring fills every right-thinking man, with a seething resentment and a passionate yearning for justice, and he climbed out of bed with the intention of taking the proper steps through the recognized channels. It is the custom nowadays to disparage the educational methods of the English public school and to maintain that they are not practical and of a kind to fit the growing boy for the problems of afterlife. But you do learn one thing at a public school, and that is how to act when somebody starts snoring.

You jolly well grab a cake of soap and pop in and stuff it down the blighter's throat. And this is what Archibald proposed - God willing - to do. #Quote by P.G. Wodehouse

#68. Let us end on a very simple note: Let us listen to simple words; our Lord speak simply: "Trust Me, My child," He says. "Trust Me with a humbler heart and a fuller abandon to My will than ever thou didst before. Trust Me to pour My love through thee, as minute succeeds minute. And if thou shouldst be conscious of anything hindering that flow, do not hurt My love by going away from Me in discouragement, for nothing can hurt so much as that. Draw all the closer to Me; come, flee unto Me to hide thee, even from thyself. Tell Me about the trouble. Trust Me to turn My hand upon thee and thoroughly to remove the boulder that has choked they river-bed, and take away all the sand that has silted up the channel. I will not leave thee until I have done that which I have spoken to thee of. I will perfect that which concerneth thee. Fear thou not, O child of My love; fear not. #Quote by Amy Carmichael

#69. You used to scream so well when you were scared, back when I lived under your bed. #Quote by Melissa Eskue Ousley

#70. I remember that at one time I always made a drawing before going to bed!! - Of myself I mean - though I finally destroyed most of them. #Quote by James Whistler

#71. I am good in bed - I don't snore. I don't take the duvet. I just lay there and go straight off to sleep. That's all you want out of a bloke. #Quote by Len Goodman

#72. Travel"

Sometimes I know I love you better
than all the others I kiss it's funny

but it's true and I wouldn't roll
from one to the next so fast if you

hadn't knocked them all down like
ninepins when you roared by my bed

I keep trying to race ahead and catch
you at the newest station or whistle

stop but you are flighty about
schedules and always soar away just

as leaning from my taxicab my breath
reaches for the back of your neck #Quote by Frank O'Hara

#73. She may be lying in bed reading a book, she may be making love with a prize fighter, or she may be running like mad through a field of stubble, one shoe one, one shoe off, a man named Corn Cob pursuing her hotly. Wherever she is I am standing in complete darkness; her absence blots me out. #Quote by Henry Miller

#74. When I finally let someone into my narrow bed, the first thing I told her was what I could not do. I said, I can't fix it, girl. I can't fix anything. If you don't as me to fix it, you can ask anything else. If you can say what you need, I'll try to give it to you. #Quote by Dorothy Allison

#75. I'm very worried about the depiction of women on the screen. It's gotten worse than ever and it's related to their being either high- or low-class concubines, and the only question is when or where they will go to bed, with whom, and how many. There's nothing to do with the dreams of women, or of woman as the dream, nothing to do with the quirky part of her, the wonder of her. #Quote by John Cassavetes

#76. From the pocket of her windbreaker he extracted what he falsely believed to be a portable marine radio, which along with two granola bars he'd pilfered from Honey's belongings after she was snatched by the club-handed lunatic. Shreave started pressing buttons on the compact gadget and barking, "Mayday! Mayday!
There was no response from the Coast Guard pilot or any other human, and for a good reason. Except for its LED screen, the instrument in Shreave's possession was electronically dissimilar to a radio in all significant respects. Most crucial was the absence of either an audio receiver or a transmitter.
"SOS! SOS!" he persisted. "Help!"
The device was in fact a mobile GPS unit, as technogically impenetrable to Shreave as the Taser gun he'd found beneath Honey's bed. #Quote by Carl Hiaasen

#77. He was being childish.
"Stop saying 'Your Majesty'!" Jane tore a pillow off her bed and hurled it at him. He sidestepped it quickly. "I told you not to call me that."
He blinked slowly, as though trying to give an impression of guilelessness. "Then what should I call you, Your Majesty?"
"Use my name"
"Yes, Your Majesty." He bowed and swirled his hand a few times in an overly dramatic display of courtesy. "Anything you say, Your Majesty. And not to question Your Majesty, but shouldn't you be using the royal we? You are all of England now." He paused a beat. "Your Majesty. #Quote by Cynthia Hand

#78. You've never slept in a bed?" she wondered as he embraced her from behind, his arms caressing her, his knees bending to fit in the coffin.

"It's on my bucket list," Loki said.

"What's a bucket list?" She wrapped her hands around his.

"Oh I forgot, you're immortal. You don't ned a bucket list. It's a list mortals like me - now that I'm officially a Minikin - have of the things they want to do before they die."

"What else do you have on your bucket list?"

"Saving a princess," Loki teased her.

"And sleeping in a coffin with her?" she joked.

"If she'll let me grow old with her, then it doesn't matter where I sleep next to her - of course, I know you'll never grow old. #Quote by Cameron Jace

#79. At dawn, when you have trouble getting out of bed, tell yourself: "I have to go to work - as a human being. What do I have to complain of, if I'm going to do what I was born for - the things I was brought into the world to do? Or is this what I was created for? To huddle under the blankets and stay warm? #Quote by Marcus Aurelius

#80. I'm done. I'm going to go to bed and read important books about theater."
"It would would be easier if you just said porn," Scarlett said.
"No idea what you're talking about. But knock first if you need me. #Quote by Maureen Johnson

#81. It was spring when it happened and the schoolroom windows were open all day long, and every afternoon after Billy left we had milk from little waxy cartons and Mrs. Jansma would read us chapters from a wonderful book about some children in England that had a bed that took them places at night. #Quote by Ellen Gilchrist

#82. jacket; skimmed them for anything I'd missed. Zoe's body was stiff and silent on the bed. Victim's faces can drop into a deceptive peace once they've quit breathing but that doesn't happen with strangulation. Zoe's blood-specked eyes reflected every second of her agony as she took her last look at the world. Get hit by a bus or get cornered by a killer, the result is the same. You're sloughed off in an instant from everything you know and love. No more hopes or fears. No more appointments or schedules or bills. But nothing in the photos explained why #Quote by Michael Donovan

#83. Ferguson was naked in that bed, too, and everything felt so good to him, so perfectly in accord with how he imagined it would feel, that for once in his life the real and the imagined were identical, absolutely and as never before once and the same thing, which had to make it the happiest moment of his life so far, he believed, since Ferguson was not someone who subscribed to the notion that desire fulfilled was desire disappointed, at least not in this case, where wanting Amy was no good without having Amy want him, and the miracle was that she did want him, and therefore desire fulfilled was in fact desire fulfilled, the chance to spend a few moments in the ephemeral kingdom of earthly grace. #Quote by Paul Auster

#84. Bed and laziness are good friends, they often like to hang out late at noon. #Quote by Alain Bremond-Torrent

#85. Excluded by my birth and tastes from the social order, I was not aware of its diversity. Nothing in the world was irrelevant: the stars on a general's sleeve, the stock-market quotations, the olive harvest, the style of the judiciary, the wheat exchange, flower-beds. Nothing. This order, fearful and feared, whose details were all inter-related, had a meaning: my exile. #Quote by Jean Genet

#86. In a sick-room or a bed-room there should never be shutters shut. #Quote by Florence Nightingale

#87. I clawed my eyes open and rolled off my bed. For some reason, someone had moved the floor several feet lower than I had expected, and I fell and crashed with a thud.
Ow.
A blond head popped over the side of the bed, and a familiar male voice asked, "Are you okay down there?"
Curran. The Beast Lord was in my bed. No, wait a minute. I didn't have a bed, because my insane aunt had destroyed my apartment. I was mated to the Beast Lord, which meant I was in the Keep, in Curran's rooms, and in his bed. Our bed. Which was four feet high. Right.
"Kate?"
"I'm fine."
"Would you like me to install one of those child playground slides for you? #Quote by Ilona Andrews

#88. Her legs splayed wide as he dropped her onto the mattress, his big body settling between them, and she cried out as he slid back inside her, his hardness stretching her lusciously. He began to pump in a slow, steady motion that wouldn't alter no matter how she writhed and begged him to go harder, faster, deeper.
His mouth went to her breast, sucking at a nipple, tugging sweetly in time to his thrusting. Her body contracted every time he pushed inward, clasping him hungrily, sensation building until a powerful climax began, wringing every inch of her body with raw force. She fell silent, her hips locked in a steep arch against his weight. Still the measured rhythm went on, extracting every last flicker of sensation. He was tireless, unhurried, using himself to satisfy her.
At last Phoebe collapsed down on the bed, shivering uncontrollably. West plunged into her... once, twice, thrice... and pulled out to crush the thick wet rod of his sex against her stomach. He buried a savage growl in the bedclothes and clutched the mattress on either side of her so hard she thought he might gouge holes in it. As she felt the hot spill of his release, an unfamiliar croon came from her throat, a sound of primal satisfaction at having pleased her mate. #Quote by Lisa Kleypas

#89. It was during those years that I discovered that loving [my father] was like sticking a blade into my own heart. It got me nowhere, except awake in the middle of the night, recalling the years when my father was the strongest, the smartest, the funniest, and I lay curled in my bed, wondering why I had been cheated out of a father who loved me, and one I could love in return. #Quote by Alison Singh Gee

#90. You are a sweet man."
-"God, there it is." He flopped back on the bed, as if shot through the heart. "Repeat that to anyone, and I will have you brought up on charges of slander."
"I wouldn't dream of telling a soul. #Quote by Tessa Dare

#91. The short sharp shock of three thousand mother two hundred mothers. The ones who picked through the supermarket debris for pieces of their dead husbands. The ones who still laundered their gone son's bed sheets by hand. The ones who kept an extra teacup at the end of the table, in case of miracles. The elegant ones, the angry ones, the clever ones, the ones in hairnets, the ones exhausted by all the dying. They carried their sorrow - not with photos under their arms, or with public wailing, or by beating their chests, but with a weariness around the eyes. Mothers and daughters and children and grandmothers, too. They never fought the wars, but they suffered them, blood and bone. #Quote by Colum McCann

#92. I went to bed last night utterly dejected; I thought I was never going to amount to anything, and that you had thrown away your money for nothing. But what do you think? I woke up this morning with a beautiful new plot in my head, and I've been going about all day planning my characters, just as happy as I could be. No one can ever accuse me of being a pessimist! If I had a husband and twelve children swallowed by an earthquake one day, I'd bob up smilingly the next morning and commence to look for another set. ~Jershua Abbott #Quote by Jean Webster

#93. Casey was in the bed with Ali. And that was where I drew the line. Because eww. #Quote by Jennifer Lynn Barnes

#94. I open the door and find my friend sitting on his bed, holding an ancient book gently by its spine. His smooth features ripple into a smile when he sees it is me. I thought you were Tactus come to beg me to shoot some stims before the gala. He always thinks because I'm reading, I'm not doing anything. There is no greater plague to an introvert than the extroverted. Especially that beast. He will run himself into the ground one of these days. #Quote by Pierce Brown

#95. As for me, I delight in the every day Way Among mist-wrapped vines and rocky caves Here in the wilderness I am completely free With my friends, the white clouds, idling forever There are roads, but they do not reach the world Since I am mindless, who can rouse my thoughts On a bed of stone I sit, alone in the night While a round moon climbs up Cold Mountain #Quote by Hanshan

#96. Aren't you still worried Gran will cut me off, and you'll be saddled with a spoiled wife and not enough money to please her?"
"To hell with your grandmother, too. For that matter, to hell with the money." He tossed the chair aside as if it were so much kindling; it clattered across the floor. "It's you I want."
"Jackson!" she cried as he approached her. "Someone might hear you!"
"Good." Catching her about the waist, he backed her toward the bed. "Then you'll be well and truly compromised, and there will be no more question of our marrying."
While she was still thrilling to the masterful way he'd decided to take charge, he tumbled her onto the bed, following her down to cover her body with his.
As she gaped at him, shocked to see her cautious love behave so delightfully incautious, he murmured, "Or better yet, they can find us here together in the morning and march us right to the church."
Then he took her mouth with his. #Quote by Sabrina Jeffries

#97. Amelia took a deep breath. "What you didn't mention, Mr. Rohan, was that if a Roma steals a woman from her bed according to tradition, it is with the purpose of marriage in mind. And the so-called stealing is prearranged and encouraged by the bride-to-be."
Cam gave her a charming smile, deliberately dispelling the tension. "It lacks subtlety, but it hastens the proceedings considerably, doesn't it? No asking for the father's permission, no banns, no prolonged betrothal. Very efficient, a Romany courtship. #Quote by Lisa Kleypas

#98. I'm getting the feeling you don't want me to go. Are you ashamed of me? That hurts, Titty-bottum - I'm wounded."

She laughs disdainfully. "No you're not. And it has nothing to do with me not wanting you to go - you can't go. There are about thirty Austenites. As soon as they spot you, word will get out that you were in Castlebrook."

"Oh the horror, because Castlebrook is the hub of the social scene and media elites."

That was sarcasm, in case you weren't sure. Sarah is, which is why her eyes rolls behind her glasses. "It only takes one set of loose lips for the Queen to find out you were there when you're supposed to be here. And the producers don't want you going anywhere, anyway."

"I could ditch?"

She blows a puff of breath up at her dark bangs, which have fallen too close to her eyes.

And now I'm thinking about Sarah blowing things.

"And then you'll have to wear the monkey."

"I fear no man or monkey. But it is sort of creepy, isn't it?" I groan. "Fucking James."

Sarah mocks me. "Right, fucking James is trying to keep you safe and alive and not kidnapped, like it's his job or something. Bastard."

Huh, look at that. Sarah can do sarcasm too. That's sexy. And she said the word fucking - which makes me think about fucking her - on the bed, the sofa . . . Christ, in the nook. She would be absolutely wild in the nook.

Talk about a fantasy - that one's going st #Quote by Emma Chase

#99. Take me back," I tell him, shifting a little. The world tilts and steadies all at once. "Alert the medics and have a bed prepared for our arrival. In the meantime, elevate my arm and continue applying direct pressure to the wound. The bullet has broken or fractured something, and this will require surgery. #Quote by Tahereh Mafi

#100. Love melts the rigor which the rocks have bred; a flint will break upon a feather bed. #Quote by John Cleveland

#101. You invited him into bed?" Simon demanded, looking shaken. "Ridiculous, isn't it?" said Jace. "We would never have all fit. #Quote by Cassandra Clare

#102. Mavis' bear sailed through the air in Cassie's room, falling onto the bed. 'What's he in aid of?' 'He's reconnaissance expert. He wouldn't hear of me enterin' potential hostile ground without testin' for fire. Has his sacrifice been in vain? #Quote by Christine M. Knight

#103. They'll be coming for you, Mr. Jones. They'll be coming any moment now. I hate to say this, but I must. It is my duty to warn you what will happen to you, an enemy spy. You'll be tortured, Mr. Jones - not simply everyday tortures like pulling out your teeth and toe-nails, but unspeakable tortures I can't mention with Miss Ellison here - and then you'll finish in the gas chambers. If you're still alive.'

Mary clutched his arm. 'Would they - would they really do that?'

'Good God, no!' Smith stared at her in genuine surprise.

'What on earth would they want to do that for?' He raised his voice again: 'You'll die in a screaming agony, Mr. Jones, an agony beyond your wildest nightmares. And you'll take a long time dying. Hours. Maybe days. And screaming. Screaming all the time.'

'What in God's name am I to do?' The desperate voice from above was no longer quavering, it vibrated like a broken bed-spring. 'What can I do?'

'You can slide down that rope,' Smith said brutally. 'Fifteen feet. Fifteen little feet, Mr. Jones. My God, you could do that in a pole vault.'

'I can't.' The voice was a wail. 'I simply can't.'

'Yes, you can,' Smith urged. 'Grab the rope now, close your eyes, out over the sill and down. Keep your eyes closed. We can catch you.'

'I can't! I can't!'

'Oh God!' Smith said despairingly. 'Oh, my God! It's too late now.'

'It's too - what in heaven's name do you me #Quote by Alistair MacLean

#104. Loneliness is necessary for pure poetry. When someone intrudes into the poet's life (and any sudden personal contact, whether in the bed or in the heart, is an intrusion) the poet loses his or her balance for a moment, slips into being what he or she is, uses his or her poetry as one would use money or sympathy. The person who writes the poetry emerges, tentatively, like a hermit crab from a conch shell. The poet, for that instant, ceases to be a dead person. #Quote by Jack Spicer

#105. The moment it was over I knew I shouldn't have done it. It was fucked up on so many levels that it didn't even feel right to hold Dan close to me in what had been our bed less than a month earlier. Dan loved me, I knew he did. It wasn't fair of me to lead him on, even if I had broken up with him just before fucking him. But it wasn't just that, the rest of it wasn't right either. The knowledge of what I no longer was in my family's view but forever, for whoever looked upon me, marked on my body, a lack so fundamental and obvious that some would refuse to call me a man. And what would happen to me because of that, the way my body was even in that moment changing to accommodate someone else's desires, the way I was becoming what Brennan had decided I needed to be. For the first time, it wasn't a mere omission but an outright lie. To be in that bed next to Dan was taking up the space that belonged to someone else, someone we had both loved and who was now gone. That life was over, done. #Quote by N.J. Lysk

#106. They walked down to the boathouse. But before Wylan entered, he bent and plucked a red tulip from its bed. They all followed suit and silently filed inside. One by one, they knelt by Nina and rested a flower upon Matthias' chest, then stood, surrounding his body, as if now that it was too late, they might protect him. Kuwei was the last. There were tears in his golden eyes, and Jesper was glad he'd joined their circle. Matthias was the reason Kuwei and Jesper had survived the ambush on Black Veil; he was one of the reasons Kuwei would have a chance to truly live as a Grisha in Ravka. #Quote by Leigh Bardugo

#107. Gluttony? I could eat and eat and eat and eat and eat. I'd love to pig out on gluten. I mean, I'm allergic to gluten, but I really want to do that. I want to sit in bed one day and just pig out. #Quote by Naomi Campbell

#108. For a moment she believed he had left, but as she shifted away from the wall she sensed him there beside the bed. He was very close.
Wretched curiosity!
But she would fight it and not look.
"Katherine," he whispered, his breath rolling in a warm wave across her cheek. A traitor tear spilled out, the humiliation was too much to contain. Gently, a finger dabbed the wetness from her skin. He said it again, softly, as though it pleased him just to say it, "Katherine."
"Viktor!" the accented voice bellowed from below. And then the shadow was gone.
Darkness overwhelmed her then and carried her away to a land of crows and mocking strangers. #Quote by Gwenn Wright

#109. I was scared of the dark. Ohhhh, I'd do anything not to have to sleep on my own. I'd get in bed and cover myself with dolls and teddy bears. #Quote by Peta Wilson

#110. One morning indeed, I felt a sudden misgiving that she not only had left the house but had gone for good: I had just heard the sound of a door which seemed to me to be that of her room. On tiptoe I crept towards the room, opened the door, stood upon the threshold. In the dim light the bedclothes bulged in a semi-circle, that must be Albertine who, with her body bent, was sleeping with her feet and face to the wall. Only, overflowing the bed, the hair upon that head, abundant and dark, made me realise that it was she, that she had not opened her door, had not stirred, and I felt that this motionless and living semi-circle, in which a whole human life was contained and which was the only thing to which I attached any value, I felt that it was there, in my despotic possession. #Quote by Marcel Proust

#111. But I can be alone without Yoko, but I just have no wish to be. There's no reason on earth why I should be alone without Yoko. There's nothing more important than our relationship, nothing. And we dig being together all the time. Both of us could survive apart but what for? I'm not going to sacrifice love, real love for any whore or any friend or any business, because in the end you're alone at night and neither of us want to be. And you can't fill a bed with groupies. It doesn't work. I don't want to be a swinger. I've been through it all and nothing works better than to have someone you love hold you. #Quote by John Lennon

#112. I go home, I have dinner with my wife and kids, and after my kids go to bed, I'm back online doing stuff. #Quote by Dave Goldberg

#113. He imagined her upstairs in her room, lying in bed with her hair spread across the pillow, that nightgown with the pearl buttons down the front tangled around her legs, nothing beneath the delicate fabric but her softness and warmth. Desire pulsed through his body, hungry and hot and needy.
It was unbearable to want her with such intensity, unthinkable to need her with such desperate longing, dangerous to believe that she could somehow keep the demons away. He did not want to need her, for in need, there was dependence. He could not trust, for in trust, there was betrayal. Better never to see heaven at all than to catch a glimpse of it, grab for it, and lose it.
He went to his room. He slept with his demons, and he woke alone. #Quote by Laura Lee Guhrke

#114. I've got so much inside me I have no idea about. I'm like the mayor of a city I've never seen."

He smiles at my phrasing. "If you knew the kind of little miracles happening every moment you breathe in, you wouldn't be able to handle it. A valve could close and not open; an artery could split, you could die. At any moment. It's nothing but miracles inside your tiny city." He presses a kiss to my temple.

"Holy shit." I clutch at him.

"You wouldn't believe the stats on people who go to bed one night and never wake up. Normal, healthy people who aren't even old."

"Why would you tell me this? Is this what you think about?"

There's the longest pause. "I used to. Not so much anymore."

"I think I preferred it when I thought I was full of white bones and red goo. Why am I now thinking about dying tonight?"

"Now you see why I can't do small talk. #Quote by Sally Thorne

#115. Did you think I – I would be able to carry on, without you?" I sob, my voice muffled against his shoulder. "Did you think I'd manage to get through this thing called life without you by my side?"

"I thought you'd be better off without me – I didn't think, I couldn't think…" We are both sobbing now.

"Who else would run out on their own birthday party, force me barefoot down the fire escape, bring me fruit salad in bed, complain that I'm humming a pop song in the wrong key?" I am laughing and crying at once. "Who else would force me to dance in front of a complete stranger, learn to play the guitar overnight and accompany me when I sing?" I sniff hard and punch him on the shoulder. "How could I possibly live without you, you stupid, stupid idiot? #Quote by Tabitha Suzuma

#116. No more peeping through keyholes! No more masturbating in the dark! No more public confessions! Unscrew the doors from their jambs! I want a world where the vagina is represented by a crude, honest slit, a world that has feeling for bone and contour, for raw, primary colors, a world that has fear and respect for its animal origins. I'm sick of looking at cunts all tickled up, disguised, deformed, idealized. Cunts with nerve ends exposed. I don't want to watch young virgins masturbating in the privacy of their boudoirs or biting their nails or tearing their hair or lying on a bed full of bread crumbs for a whole chapter. #Quote by Henry Miller

#117. Lying in bed, you know, you don't seem so tall. #Quote by Ani DiFranco

#118. When your child is looking up at you, and you are putting them to bed at night, and they are just lying there, you have to remind yourself that's what it's all about. #Quote by Shane Filan

#119. She blushes a deep red, then an even deeper hue with both Delia and I hasten to explain that I'm not Sophie's father.
There have been times, I'll admit, that I wished I was. Like when Delia put my hand on her belly so that I could feel Sophie kicking inside, and I thought: I should have been the one to make that happen. But for all the nights I lay in bed as a teenager, imagining what it would be like to be Eric, with the freedom to touch her whenever I wanted, or breathing in the smell of my pillow after she'd sprawled on my bed studying for a test on Hamlet, or even feeling my pulse jump when we were both patting Greta after a find and our hands brushed
for all those times, there were a thousand others that did not belong to me. #Quote by Jodi Picoult

#120. It was gentler here, softer, its seethe the quietest of whispers, as if, in deference to a drawing room, it had quite deliberately put on its 'manners'; it kept itself out of sight, obliterated itself, but distinctly with an air of saying, 'Ah, but just wait! Wait till we are alone together! Then I will begin to tell you something new! Something white! something cold! something sleepy! something of cease, and peace, and the long bright curve of space! Tell them to go away. Banish them. Refuse to speak. Leave them, go upstairs to your room, turn out the light and get into bed - I will go with you, I will be waiting for you, I will tell you a better story than Little Kay of the Skates, or The Snow Ghost - I will surround your bed, I will close the windows, pile a deep drift against the door, so that none will ever again be able to enter. Speak to them!...' It seemed as if the little hissing voice came from a slow white spiral of falling flakes in the corner by the front window - but he could not be sure.

("Silent Snow, Secret Snow") #Quote by Conrad Aiken

#121. Kate heard the bravado in her friend's voice and saw it in her eyes. "I prayed for you." "You did?" Tully asked. "Wow. Thanks." Kate didn't know what to say to that. To her, praying was like brushing your teeth before bed, just something you did. Tully #Quote by Kristin Hannah

#122. We are also creatures of romance. Books love to portray us as the mysterious visitor in the night that you invite into your bedroom and then your bed. #Quote by Isabelle Rowan

#123. Oh, but Masha, can't you see? You are. An Ivan has come. That is like saying, Midnight has struck. It is time for bed, little one. You cannot have both. In war you must always choose sides. One or the other. Silver or black. Human or demon. If you try to be a bridge laid down between them, they will tear you in half. #Quote by Catherynne M Valente

#124. The hard bed, the stool beside it, the stark cross on the wall, each cast shadows. Only the man in the bed seemed shadowless. He was the stillest thing in the room. #Quote by Jane Yolen

#125. I wouldn't know a space-time continuum or warp core breach if they got into bed with me. #Quote by Patrick Stewart

#126. Given that media has become fast-paced, readers now want books that show the action and don't just tell you what is happening. Modern readers don't want three pages of descriptions of a farmhouse. They want to hear the door's creak quiet the chirping of crickets out in the cornfield, they want to feel the cool air drift through the house, then they want to see the shadow of a man, gun drawn, standing over the bed of his disloyal lover. #Quote by Jennifer Arnett

#127. Kate prefers a loaded gun next to her bed."
"Is that all?" Jake asked Kate. "Where's your hand grenade?"
"I don't have a hand grenade."
"What happened to the one I gave you for Christmas?"
"I forgot about that," she said. "I guess it's around the apartment somewhere."
"You lost a hand grenade in your apartment?" Nick said. "Next time I visit I'll be more careful. #Quote by Janet Evanovich

#128. Unamused, Ushara went to pull the kettle from the stove and pour the tea. "That's beside the point. And you forget that we're Andarion. We don't like scars on our males. They're hideous and gross." As she turned back, she caught the hurt and stricken expression on Jullien's face. Too late, she remembered how many scars lined his body. "Jules…"

Completely somber, he moved away from her. "I should be going. I have an early shift."

"Jullien?" But it was too late. He was out of her home before she could apologize.

"Mum? What happened?"

Furious at herself for being so thoughtless, she cupped her son's chin and sighed. "I accidentally hurt his feelings. I forgot that Jullien has a lot of scars that bother him."

"How could you forget?"

"'Cause I don't see them, Vas. They don't matter to me." She brushed the hair back to look at his brow and was about to take him to the doctor to have it stitched when she realized that Jullien had already done it. "He stitched you?"

Vas nodded. "He did it so fast, I barely felt it."

She should have known that Jullien wouldn't have left with it unfinished. Sighing, she kissed Vas's bandage and hated that she'd hurt Jullien's feelings. "Come on, honey. Let's get you cleaned up and ready for bed. #Quote by Sherrilyn Kenyon

#129. I sank down onto the bed against the headboard and leaned back. I crossed my legs underneath me. "Then we'll talk." I said with a smile. Rush sat down onto the bed and leaned back against the wall. A deep chuckle came from his chest and I watched as a real smile broke out on his face. "I can't believe I just begged a female to sit and talk to me." In all honesty, I couldn't either. #Quote by Abbi Glines

#130. Nor was his energy confin'd alone To friends around his philosophick throne; Its influence wide improv'd our letter'd isle. And lucid vigour marked the general style: As Nile's proud waves, swoln from their oozy bed. First o'er the neighbouring meads majestick spread; Till gathering force, they more and more expand. And with new virtue fertilise the land. #Quote by Samuel Johnson

#131. To live out childhood fantasies as a grown-up was to court and wed and bed disaster. #Quote by Lev Grossman

#132. Strider's bedroom The only thing hanging on the wall that wasn't a weapon was the portrait just over the bed. No. Not true, he thought then. The portrait was a weapon, too. Of seduction. In it Strider was utterly naked and whisking through the cloads like an avenging angel. He was holding a teddy bear in one hand and a stream of pink ribbons in the other. Anya had given him the nearly life-size monstrasity as a joke. But the joke was on her. He loved the thing. #Quote by Gena Showalter

#133. I tape my list of goals, both large and small, above my bed so I can see them when I wake up. This holds me accountable. #Quote by Chris Solinsky

#134. Do we choose sleep? Hell no and bullshit - we fall. We give ourselves over to possibility, to whim and fancy, to the bed, to the pillow, the tiny white tablet. And these choose for us. #Quote by Tim O'Brien

#135. I collapsed next to him on the bed and he slowly peeled off the rest of my wardrobe. We made love by moonlight. #Quote by Janice Macleod

#136. A hospital bed is a parked taxi with the meter running. #Quote by Groucho Marx

#137. You're such an - " She cut off quickly and moaned when I gently bit down on her neck and brought her shoving hands above her head and pinned them to the bed. Making a trail up her neck, I kissed her thoroughly and smiled when she leaned toward me as I backed up. "Such a what?" "I don't remember," she said against my mouth and pressed our lips together again. "That's what I thought, Sour Patch." She #Quote by Molly McAdams

#138. I love you. I mean that, all right? I don't know what kind of guys you've been dating in college, but I'm over the novelty of not living with my parents and having my own king size bed. Really." I couldn't help it. I laughed. That was a new twist in the Talk I'd never heard before. #Quote by E.M. Tippetts

#139. Bring you comics in bed, scrape the mold off the bread, and serve you French toast again. Okay, I still get stoned. #Quote by Sheryl Crow

#140. It was she who did away with my generation's virginity. She taught us much more than we should have learned, but she taught us above all that there's no place in life sadder than an empty bed. #Quote by Gabriel Garcia Marquez

#141. My darling, my child, my connoisseur of sesquipedalian words and convoluted ideas and meandering sentences and baroque images, while the sun is asleep and the moon somnambulant, while the stars bathe us in their glow from eons ago and light-years away, while you are comfortably nestled in your blankets and I am hunched over in my chair by your bed, while we are warm and safe and still for the moment in this bubble of incandescent light cast by the pearl held up by the mermaid lamp, you and I, on this planet spinning and hurtling through the frigid darkness of space at dozens of miles per second, let's read. #Quote by Ken Liu

#142. AMPLE make this bed. Make this bed with awe; In it wait till judgment break Excellent and fair. Be its mattress straight, Be its pillow round; Let no sunrise' yellow noise Interrupt this ground. #Quote by Emily Dickinson

#143. For Fang, getting out of bed in the morning is a career move. #Quote by Phyllis Diller

#144. Her arms tightened around our daughter as if she was afraid I was going to snatch her away. "Get out."

"Katiebear, I'm so sorry."

"I hate you," she whispered, he eyes filling with tears. "I wish you were dead because then I could have my children back."

I stumbled away from the bed, horrified, and watched as she fell asleep as if I'd never even been there.

Jesus Christ, what had I done? #Quote by Nicole Jacquelyn

#145. The black masses want not to be shrunk from as though they are plague-ridden. They want not to be walled up in slums, in the ghettos, like animals. They want to live in an open, free society where they can walk with their heads up, like men, and women! Few white people realize that many black people today dislike and avoid spending more time than they must about white people. This 'integration' image, as it is popularly interpreted, has millions of vain, self-exalted white people convinced that black people want to sleep in bed with them - and that's a lie! #Quote by Malcolm X

#146. I made it until the threes before a new problem, in addition to my possible haunting, came up. I had to pee. Three hours fifty-two minutes. I tried crossing my legs and thinking dry desert thoughts. I wasn't going to make it until six a.m. No way. That left me two choices:

1. Stay here and pee the bed. This option was fraught with a whole load of downsides, not the least being forced to sit in a puddle of my own urine for hours (three hours forty-seven minutes to be exact). Then there would be the morning humiliation to consider. Dick's great-grandmother probably made this bed by collecting feathers off her pet goose. He would shit if I peed in it. He would make me sleep on rubber sheets as long as I lived here. Plus Nathaniel would know. I would be his spastic stepsister with an incontinence problem.
2. Leave the bed and make a run for the bathroom. This had the upside of not getting me a year's subscription to Bedwetters Anonymous. The downside was obvious. I had to leave the safety of the covers and risk the dead girl grabbing ahold of me. #Quote by Eileen Cook

#147. „Hey, you were braver than me. And look, you did it all without losing that towel."
Amusement lit Sydney's features as she let me draw her near. She patted the top of the towel, where it wrapped around her chest. "It's all in how you fold it," she said practically. "Do it the right way, and nothing will get it off."
"Challenge accepted," I murmured, bringing my lips down to hers.
… I lifted her easily in my arms and carried her over to the bed, amazed at how the strongest woman I knew could feel so light in my arms.
I was also amazed at how difficult that towel was to get off.
Sydney laughed softly, trailing her fingers along my cheeks. The sunlight peeping in around the window blinds made her look like she was made of gold. "Uh-oh," she said. "Are you going to fail in your challenge?"
I finally untwisted the fold and removed the towel, tossing it as far from the bed as I could. "No way," I said, as always in awe of her body. "It takes a lot more than that to keep me away. You'll have to try harder next time."
She helped pull my shirt off over my head. "Now why would I want to do that? #Quote by Richelle Mead

#148. CLEOPATRA TO THE ASP

The bright mirror I braved: the devil in it
Loved me like my soul, my soul:
Now that I seek myself in a serpent
My smile is fatal.

Nile moves in me; my thighs splay
Into the squalled Mediterranean;
My brain hides in that Abyssinia
Lost armies foundered towards.

Desert and river unwrinkle again.
Seeming to bring them the waters that make drunk
Caesar, Pompey, Antony I drank.
Now let the snake reign.

A half-deity out of Capricorn,
This rigid Augustus mounts
With his sword virginal indeed; and has shorn
Summarily the moon-horned river

From my bed. May the moon
Ruin him with virginity! Drink me, now, whole
With coiled Egypt's past; then from my delta
Swim like a fish toward Rome. #Quote by Ted Hughes

#149. Men can bed any woman," she said stiffly. "It means nothing."
He paused. "Nothing," he repeated thoughtfully. "It rarely means nothing. And sometimes, in very particular circumstances, it means a great deal. #Quote by Caroline Linden

#150. I turned on the television and watched a movie about a girl who'd fallen in love with both a vampire and a werewolf. I'd already seen it a million times, so my eyelids grew heavy, fairly quickly. Ten minutes later I was out cold in my bed and dreaming of Duncan, who turned into a werewolf and was trying to kill my own vampire boyfriend. Every time I tried to see the vampire's face, however, it was a blur. #Quote by Kristen Middleton

#151. Physical pleasure was a fucking beautiful thing, but it was fleeting. The thrill of having her curl trustingly against his chest as he lifted her from the bed would linger.
Maybe even forever. #Quote by Kit Rocha

#152. Fauve clenched her fists and bounded up from her bed, her gloom vanished in a rush of combat, which translated itself into the one eternal question which can make any female creature forget even such profound questions as the brevity of youth, the fleetingness of time.
What was she going to wear ? #Quote by Judith Krantz

#153. I'm good in bed, actually, and I think I could learn to be a good communicator, too. The only trouble with that is it leads to marriage. #Quote by Garry Shandling

#154. And just as the Witch Jadis had looked different when you saw her in our world instead of in her own, so the fruit of that mountain garden looked different too. There were of course all sorts of colored things in the bedroom; the colored counterpane on the bed, the wallpaper, the sunlight from the window, and Mother's pretty, pale blue dressing jacket. But the moment Digory took the Apple out of his pocket, all those things seemed to have scarcely any color at all. Everyone of them, even the sunlight, looked faded and dingy. The brightness of the Apple threw strange lights on the ceiling. Nothing else was worth looking at: you couldn't look at anything else. And the smell of the Apple of Youth was as if there was a window in the room that opened on Heaven. #Quote by C.S. Lewis

#155. A bachelor's bed is the most pleasant. #Quote by Marcus Tullius Cicero

#156. I reached for her, pushing back the fall of hair-it was heavy and thick and smooth to the touch-and tilted her chin so that the moonlight shone on her wet face.
We married each other that night, there on a bed of fallen pine needles-even today, the scent of pitch-pine stirs me-with Henry's distant flute for a wedding march and the arching white birch boughs for our basilica. At first, she quivered like an aspen, and I was ashamed at my lack of continence, yet I could not let go of her. I felt like Peleus on the beach, clinging to Thetis, only to find that, suddenly, it was she who held me; that same furnace in her nature that had flared up in anger blazed again, in passion. #Quote by Geraldine Brooks

#157. Oh man, Alex. That's sad. Seriously, mate, go get yourself laid."
"What?" He gave Baldrick a quick kiss on his little head
he didn't care how stupid he looked, he loved his ugly cat
and put him down on his kitty bed in the corner.
"Isn't that what single sad people do
get cats when they've given up on human companionship? #Quote by L.A. Gilbert

#158. I love you," she said wretchedly. "And if I were well, no power on earth could keep me away from you. If I were well, I would take you to my bed, and I would show you as much passion as any woman could. #Quote by Lisa Kleypas

#159. Listen to me," he said, his voice even and intense, "and listen well, because I'm only going to say this once. I desire you. I burn for you. I can't sleep at night for wanting you. Even when I didn't like you, I lusted for you. It's the most maddening, beguiling, damnable thing, but there it is. And if I hear one more word of nonsense from your lips, I'm going to have to tie you to the bloody bed and have my way with you a hundred different ways, until you finally get it through your silly skull that you are the most beautiful and desirable woman in England, and if everyone else doesn't see that, then they're all bloody fools. #Quote by Julia Quinn

#160. Ideally, a lady will have three toys at once. One to romance her, one to bed her, and one to adorn her with very expensive jewelry. #Quote by Marissa Meyer

#161. When I was a teenager, I did a lot of pull-ups and push-ups. Every night before bed, I'd do 150 - in sets of 30 or so. Looking back on it now, I'm not totally sure that's the best way to improve as a climber. But it did make me a lot better at doing pull-ups and push-ups. #Quote by Alex Honnold

#162. With a damp palm, I turned the knob and cracked open the door. She was asleep in her freshly made bed. I can't explain how relieved I felt for this simple mercy. She was here and safe on clean sheets. #Quote by Laura Anderson Kurk

#163. You can't force your child to go to bed. Well, you can, but it doesn't work. #Quote by Monica Potter

#164. Yes Yes
when God created love he didn't help most
when God created dogs He didn't help dogs
when God created plants that was average
when God created hate we had a standard utility
when God created me He created me
when God created the monkey He was asleep
when He created the giraffe He was drunk
when He created narcotics He was high
and when He created suicide He was low
when He created you lying in bed
He knew what He was doing
He was drunk and He was high
and He created the mountains and the sea and fire at the same time
He made some mistakes
but when He created you lying in bed
He came all over His Blessed Universe. #Quote by Charles Bukowski

#165. Your hair waves once more when I weep. With the blue of your eyes
you lay the table of love: a bed between summer and autumn.
We drink what somebody brewed, neither I nor you nor a third:
we lap up some empty and last thing.

We watch ourselves in the deep sea's mirrors and faster pass food to the other:
the night is the night, it begins with the morning,
beside you it lays me down.

("The Years From You To Me") #Quote by Paul Celan

#166. It was so cold. In the monastery. Sometimes the wind came from the sea with ice in it... It could freeze the skin off your face. Once the snow was so deep we couldn't get out of the doors to the woodshed. A monk jumped from a window. He sank into a drift and took a long time to get up. That night, they made me sleep next to the stove. I was small, thin, like a piece of birch bark. But then the Stove went out.
Father Bernard took me into his cell... It was he who first gave me chalk and paper. He was so old his eyes his eyes looked as if he was crying. But he was never sad. In winter he had fewer blankets than the others. He said he didn't need them because God warmed him.
(...)
But even Father Bernard was cold that night. He laid me down on the bed next to him, wrapped me in an animal skin, then in his own arms. He told me stories about Jesus. How His love could wake the dead and how with Him in one's heart one could heat the world... When I woke it was light. The snow had stopped. I was warm. But he was cold. I gave him the skin but his body was stiff. I didn't know what to do. I got out a piece of paper from his chest under the bed and drew him, lying there. His face had a smile on it. I knew that God had been there when he died. That now He was in me, and because of Father Bernard I would be warm forever. #Quote by Sarah Dunant

#167. The duty of the inn-keeper,is to sell to the first comer, stews, repose, light, fire, dirty
sheets, a servant, lice, and a smile; to stop passers-by, to empty small
purses, and to honestly lighten heavy ones; to shelter travelling families
respectfully: to shave the man, to pluck the woman, to pick the child
clean; to quote the window open, the window shut, the chimney-corner,the arm-chair, the chair, the ottoman, the stool, the feather-bed, the mattress
and the truss of straw; to know how much the shadow uses up the
mirror, and to put a price on it; and, by five hundred thousand devils, to
make the traveller pay for everything, even for the flies which his dog
eats! #Quote by Victor Hugo

#168. See Pitch over there?" he asked, pointing with his chin. "Try to get her to come to you."

Pitch had wandered from the other horses, trying to get at the hay in the wagon's bed. My eyebrows rose, giving him a pained look. "You mean, here, horsy, horsy, horsy..."

He gave me a severe look, but his eyes were glittering in a repressed amusement. #Quote by Dawn Cook

#169. In the past, the thought of being in my present situation had been a comfort, but now I did not even have this to look forward to, and so I lay down on my bed and dreamt I was eating a bowl of pink mullet and green figs cooked in coconut milk, and it had been cooked by my grandmother, which was why the taste of it pleased me so, for she was the person I liked best in all the world and those were the things I like best to eat also. #Quote by Jamaica Kincaid

#170. Eventually, he found the bed too comfortable for his state of mind, so he lay down on his back, his legs sprawled across the carpet. He anagrammed "yrs forever" until he found one he liked: sorry fever. And then he lay there in his fever of sorry and repeated the now memorized note in his head and wanted do cry, but instead he only felt this aching behind his solar plexus. Crying adds something: crying is you, plus tears. But the feeling Colin had was some horrible opposite of crying. It was you, minus something. He kept thinking about one word - forever - and felt the burning ache just beneath his rib cage.
It hurt like the worst ass-kicking he'd ever gotten. And he'd gotten plenty. #Quote by John Green

#171. Klonopin ruined my lie. It takes away your drive, and in the morning, you don't want to get out of bed, because you feel so groggy. I don't even know what it's like to feel normal. This is my world. Things don't get me as excited as most people because I'm in a constant state of sedation. It should never have been prescribed for long-term use. #Quote by Robert Whitaker

#172. Mary the Canary lives in a cloud of perfume and colours. She's an auxiliary nurse by day and a country and western singer by night: bed pans and power ballass. She's so glamorous she makes Mrs Hart look plain. She is the other woman and I'm bring trained to hate her even though I've never met her. #Quote by Damian Barr

#173. Westcliff paused at the bedside and glanced at the two women. "This is going to be rather unpleasant," he said. "Therefore, if anyone has a weak stomach…" His gaze lingered meaningfully on Lillian, who grimaced.
"I do, as you well know," she admitted. "But I can overcome it if necessary."
A sudden smile appeared on the earl's impassive face. "We'll spare you for now, love. Would you like to go to another room?"
"I'll sit by the window," Lillian said, and sped gratefully away from the bed.
Westcliff glanced at Evie, a silent question in his eyes.
"Where shall I stand?" she asked.
"On my left. We'll need a great many towels and rags, so if you would be willing to replace the soiled ones when necessary - "
"Yes, of course." She took her place beside him, while Cam stood on his right. As Evie looked up at Westcliff's bold, purposeful profile, she suddenly found it hard to believe that this powerful man, whom she had always found so intimidating, was willing to go to this extent to help a friend who had betrayed him. A rush of gratitude came over her, and she could not stop herself from tugging lightly at his shirtsleeve. "My lord…before we begin, I must tell you…"
Westcliff inclined his dark head. "Yes?"
Since he wasn't as tall as Sebastian, it was a relatively easy matter for Evie to stand on her toes and kiss his lean cheek. "Thank you for helping him," she said, staring into his surprised black eyes. "You're the most honora #Quote by Lisa Kleypas

#174. and now, their great love, in which she dwelt immersed, seemed to dwindle beneath her, like the waters that vanish into the bed of the river, and she could see the mud. #Quote by Gustave Flaubert

#175. Then I wondered if that was what this was, like a Brokeback Mountain thing. We'd sleep in the same bed for a year, and finally we'd do it, but we'd never talk about it, ever, and then Ben would get married and I'd be killed in Texas.
Probably not, but you can never be too careful with these things. #Quote by Bill Konigsberg

#176. Real courage is holding on to a still voice in your head that says, 'I must keep going.' It's that voice that says nothing is a failure if it is not final. That voice that says to you, 'Get out of bed. Keep going. I will not quit.' #Quote by Cory Booker

#177. The last time I'd seen the Minotaur, he'd been wearing nothing but his tighty whities. I don't know why. Maybe he'd been shaken out of bed to chase me. #Quote by Rick Riordan

#178. My father was sleepless most of his life. So by the age of five, I was awake with him all night long, watching bad television or we'd lie in the same bed, and I'd read my comic books while he read his latest spy or mystery novel. #Quote by Sherman Alexie

#179. I lay in bed the night before the fishing trip and thought it over, about my being deaf, about the years of not letting on I heard what was said, and I wonder if I can ever act any other way again. But I remembered one thing: it wasn't me that started acting deaf; it was people that first started acting like I was too dumb to hear or see or say anything at all. #Quote by Ken Kesey

#180. Never get out of bed before noon. #Quote by Charles Bukowski

#181. In the old days, before I was married, or knew a lot of women, I would just pull down all the shades and go to bed for three or four days. I'd get up to shit. I'd eat a can of beans, go back to bed, just stay there for three or four days. Then I'd put on my clothes and I'd walk outside, and the sunlight was brilliant, and the sounds were great. I felt powerful, like a recharged battery. But you know the first bring-down? The first human face I saw on the sidewalk, I lost half my charge right there. #Quote by Charles Bukowski

#182. ... Something isn't right with you and this property. Strange things happen around it. I don't know what is going on, but I will find out. You could make it easier on yourself by coming clean."
"Sure. This is a magic bed-and-breakfast and the two guys in my kitchen are aliens from outerspace. #Quote by Ilona Andrews

#183. Meanwhile, the majority of the audience- this is plain to see- has retreated into itself. Here in these brief gaps between their troubles our people dream; it is as if the limbs of each were loosened, as if every last uneasy individual were for once allowed to stretch out and relax freely in the great warm bed of the people. #Quote by Franz Kafka

#184. Fucking NASA. In a horror movie, when everyone is hugging their shins and shouting for the main character to turn and run, or crawl under the bed, or call the cops, or grab a gun, NASA would be the dude in the back shouting, Go see what made that noise! And take a flashlight! #Quote by Hugh Howey

#185. I never dreamed it would be as amazing as that," she whispered.
"I did."
"Really?" Her soft voice was a caress. Everything about her was as smooth and silky and sweet as whipped cream.
Well, except for her tart opinions. And her fierce determination to make him tell everything in his soul. Though he had to admit that after confessing his secret fears to her earlier, he felt freer, as if the boulder he'd been carrying for years had dropped from his back.
"I knew it would be perfect." He gave her a lingering kiss, then drew back to cup her pinkening cheek. "With you it could be nothing less."
Shyly avoiding his gaze, she finger-combed his short hair. "Nancy always said that sharing a man's bed was something to 'endure.' That marriage was more pleasant without it, but it was required for having children so she'd had to put up with it."
He skimmed a hand down her lightly freckled arm. "And what do you think, now that you've experienced it for yourself?"
"I think I could 'endure' it with great enthusiasm." Jane flashed him a mischievous smile. "But I'm not really sure. Should we try it again so I can make certain?"
Stifling a laugh, he tried to look stern. "We're lucky none of the grooms have stumbled over us already." He managed to sound even-toned, though the prospect of taking her again--here, now--was already making him hard. "Speaking of that, we'd better get dressed, before someone finds us here naked."
A sigh escaped her. "You do #Quote by Sabrina Jeffries

#186. I want to do with her as one would a proper lover, fuck her ferociously,working up an appetite for a beasts breakfast and then returning to bed, to do it again, finally rousing at two or three,to snack, feeding each other in bed like baby birds still in the nest, fucking again, then sleeping until supper with the comfort of newfound familiarity. #Quote by A.M. Homes

#187. My looks by then had in any case declined to the point where only women would go to bed with me. #Quote by Christopher Hitchens

#188. He didn't care who Laurent took to bed. He #Quote by C.S. Pacat

#189. For table-talk, I prefer the pleasant and witty before the learned and the grave; in bed, beauty before goodness. #Quote by Michel De Montaigne

#190. Most moral philosophers consciously or unconsciously assume the essential correctness of our cultural sexual code - family, monogamy, continence, the postulate of privacy, ... restriction of intercourse to the marriage bed, etcetera. Having stipulated our cultural code as a whole, they fiddle with details - even such piffle as solemnly discussing whether or not the female breast is an "obscene" sight! But mostly they debate how the human animal can be induced or forced to obey this code, blandly ignoring the high probability that the heartaches and tragedies they see all around them originate in the code itself rather than the failure to abide by the code. #Quote by Robert A. Heinlein

#191. All I want is a warm bed and a kind word and unlimited power. #Quote by Ashleigh Brilliant

#192. The other day I found her passport in her drawer when I was putting away my dad's laundered handkerchiefs. I wish I hadn't. For the purpose of my story, she should have it with her. I sat on my dad's bed and flipped through page after empty page. No stamps. No exotic locales. No travel-worn smudges or creases. Just the ID information and my mother's black-and-white photo which if it were used in a psychology textbook on the meaning of facial expressions would be labelled: Obscenely, heartbreakingly hopeful. #Quote by Miriam Toews

#193. He looked up, past her, at the bedroom. Finally, a break to the white - but this wasn't much better. Pink carpeting, princess border along the ceiling, white walls, and a gold canopy bed.
"What," he said, "no Barbie dream castle?"
Layne flushed. "Shut up. #Quote by Brigid Kemmerer

#194. He rolled on top of her, his weight pinning her against the bed. His hands cupped her face, tilting her head back. "I missed ­you - fuck, why can't I stop thinking about you?" he muttered, his voice low and harsh, demanding. #Quote by Shiloh Walker

#195. Wedlock is the deep, deep peace of the double bed after the hurly-burly of the chaise lounge. #Quote by Mrs. Patrick Campbell

#196. It's kind of like this," Decker said: "You wake up in the middle of the night and you're dying for a glass of milk. So you stumble out of bed, stub your toe in the darkness, scream with pain, and limp your way to the refrigerator. You open it up and the light is brilliant. You're saved. Then you fold back the paper container, open up the milk, take a deep breath, and put it to your lips. Only
yhrch!
the milk is spoiled. Sure, you're bummed. You fold the thing close and put it back in the fridge. It's dark again. But as you're making your way to your lonely old bed, you think to yourself, Wait a minute, maybe that milk wasn't so bad. And I am still thirsty? So you do an about-face and go back to the fridge. The light warms you up again. You take a sip and yup, it's still spoiled. That, to me, is the fitting metaphor for most every relationship I've ever been in. #Quote by Ethan Hawke

#197. Every woman deserves the simple dignity of dying in a bed with clean sheets and an electric light at hand.'
-spoken by Sara, the missionary doctor, during a moment of indignation. #Quote by Joe Niemczura

#198. I drag my husband out of bed, hook him up to a coffee to stay awake and make him listen to my plotting and any issues I may be having. I *need* his head-nodding (he's an expert head-nodder). #Quote by Violet Duke

#199. Love made me weak. I wished it would go away. Instead, it crushed me under its heel. I let Levvie push me back onto the bed. And when I heard her turn away, love made me beg.
"Please don't go. Don't leave me."
-Caleb #Quote by C.J. Roberts

#200. To transport this way along bouncy mountain roads is not the way to die. Every woman deserves the simple dignity of dying in a bed with clean sheets and an electric light at hand. They wanted me to participate in a horrible abomination. I simply will not countenance the lack of respect for the poor mother of those boys. Imagine how she would feel if she woke up and saw her sons piled at her side.
-spoken by Sara to Matt regarding a victim of Amanita Phalloides [poisoning #Quote by Joe Niemczura