Sweet Quotes

#1. Those sins that seem most sweet in life, will prove most bitter in death #Quote by Thomas Brooks

#2. God cares more about us abiding by His commandments and loving big - feeling deeply alive and free from the traps of perfection and comparison. He's watching us scurry about, saying, "Sweet girls, why are you so hard on yourselves? All this worry and busyness is for what? I've given you all you need. #Quote by Emily Ley

#3. Words are like Spices
Some are mellow
Some are sweet
Some are spicy
And some are bitter

Don't let the bitter ones ruin your palate for the wonderful tastes
in life that are coming your way! #Quote by Leeza Donatella

#4. And I think because there is an essence of me that cares about other people and what other people think then that then makes me seem very sweet and polite. #Quote by Renee O'Connor

#5. And George saw the clown's face change. What he saw then was terrible enough to make his worst imaginings of the thing in the cellar look like sweet dreams; what he saw destroyed his sanity in one clawing stroke. "They #Quote by Stephen King

#6. Happy are those lovers who, when their senses require rest, can fall back upon the intellectual enjoyments afforded by the mind! Sweet sleep then comes, and lasts until the body has recovered its general harmony. On awaking, the senses are again active and always ready to resume their action. #Quote by Giacomo Casanova

#7. Holiness appeared to me to be of a sweet, pleasant, charming, serene, calm nature; which brought an inexpressible purity, brightness, peacefulness and ravishment to the soul. #Quote by Jonathan Edwards

#8. Sweet May hath come to love us,
Flowers, trees, their blossoms don;
And through the blue heavens above us
The very clouds move on. #Quote by Heinrich Heine

#9. His attention. Sweet and intense at the same time. Like a barley sugar I could untwist from its plastic and hold in my mouth. A flood of secret pleasure. #Quote by Alexis Hall

#10. She had beautiful pale skin, which was a stark contrast to her dark eyes and hair, like black marble and snow. It was very dramatic, like she would be cool to the touch. But she smelled sweet, like candy. No, that wasn't it, Chloe thought. She smelled like Christmas. "Adam's right," Chloe said as she set the bag on the counter in front of Josey. "You smell like peppermint. #Quote by Sarah Addison Allen

#11. Did you ever sleep in a field of orange-trees in bloom? The air which one inhales deliciously is a quintessence of perfumes. This powerful and sweet smell, as savoury as a sweetmeat, seems to penetrate one, to impregnate, to intoxicate, to induce languor, to bring about a dreamy and somnolent torpor. It is like opium prepared by fairy hands and not by chemists. #Quote by Guy De Maupassant

#12. Peeta opens his mouth for the first bite without hesitation. He swallows, then frowns slightly. "They're very sweet."
"Yes they're sugar berries. My mother makes jam from them. Haven't you've ever had them before?" I say, poking the next spoonful in his mouth.
"No," he says, almost puzzled. "But they taste familiar. Sugar berries?"
"Well, you can't get them in the market much, they only grow wild," I say. Another mouthful goes down. Just one more to go.
"They're sweet as syrup," he says, taking the last spoonful. "Syrup." His eyes widen as he realizes the truth. I clamp my hand over his mouth and nose hard, forcing him to swallow instead of spit. He tries to make himself vomit the stuff up, but it's too late, he's already losing consciousness. Even as he fades away, I can see in his eyes what I've done is unforgiveable.
I sit back on my heels and look at him with a mixture of sadness and satisfaction. A stray berry stains his chin and I wipe it away. "Who can't lie, Peeta?" I say, even though he can't hear me. #Quote by Suzanne Collins

#13. In fairy tales," her mother used to say, "no one ever says I love you. They give food and they kiss. That's what love is made of. #Quote by Jacqueline Sweet

#14. Quinquireme of Nineveh from distant Ophir, Rowing home to haven in sunny Palestine, With a cargo of ivory, And apes and peacocks, Sandalwood, cedarwood, and sweet white wine. #Quote by John Masefield

#15. Silver's sweet and gold's our mother, but once you're dead they're worth less than that last shit you take as you lie dying. #Quote by George R R Martin

#16. Let's make beautiful music together, Emery Carmichael. #Quote by Melyssa Winchester

#17. Well, I wasn't going to tell anyone, but I've been seeing this really sweet guy for the past few weeks. #Quote by Amber Frey

#18. You must not die. You must not die by any hand, but least of all your own. Until the other, who has fouled your sweet life, is true dead you must not die. For if he is still with the quick Undead, your death would make you even as he is. No, you must live! You must struggle and strive to live, though death would seem a boon unspeakable. You must fight Death himself, though he come to you in pain or in joy. By the day, or the night, in safety or in peril! On your living soul I charge you that you do not die. Nay, nor think of death, till this great evil be past. #Quote by Bram Stoker

#19. You're the brightest thing in the room," he said. He lifted his hand from my waist, and slowly, carefully brushed a stray lock of hair from my cheek. "You shine. #Quote by Morgan Matson

#20. LI QUAN If they ply you with expensive gifts and sweet talk, they are up to something. #Quote by Sun Tzu

#21. Also," Nick added curtly, "I'm sorry about your face."
Jamie looked over his shoulder, and touched the demon's mark crawling along his jaw with the back of his hand. "Sorry about saving all our lives by doing something you had to do?"
"Oh no," Nick said blandly, "I just meant, you know. Generally."
Jamie stared at him, shocked, and laughed. It was a real laugh, helpless and sweet, and Mae memorized it in case he died. Jamie by the river at dawn, laughing. #Quote by Sarah Rees Brennan

#22. She wasn't soft or pretty; she was hard-edged and cold, like one of those cold bronze statues surrounded by high fences and crowned in razor wire. Don't touch me, such defenses said, but it wasn't enough to halt a breach, no. She had thought people only picked the soft-petaled, sweet-smelling flowers, but some people took thorns as a challenge. #Quote by Nenia Campbell

#23. Love songs sweet enough to rot your teeth. #Quote by Haruki Murakami

#24. Such heaped up platters of cakes of various and almost indescribable kinds, known only to experienced Dutch housewives! There was the doughty doughnut, the tender oly koek, and the crisp and crumbling cruller; sweet cakes and short cakes, ginger cakes and honey cakes, and the whole family of cakes. And then there were apple pies, and peach pies, and pumpkin pies; besides slices of ham and smoked beef; and moreover delectable dishes of preserved plums, and peaches, and pears, and quinces; not to mention broiled shad and roasted chickens; together with bowls of milk and cream, all mingled higgledy-piggledy, pretty much as I have enumerated them, with the motherly teapot sending up its clouds of vapor from the midst
Heaven bless the mark! #Quote by Washington Irving

#25. ... and to all you other cats and chicks out there, sweet or otherwise, buried deep in wordy tombs, who never yet have walked from off the page, a shake and a hug and a kiss and a drink. Cheers! #Quote by Gilbert Sorrentino

#26. Life is too sweet and too short to express our affection with just our thumbs. Touch is meant for more than a keyboard. #Quote by Kristin Armstrong

#27. Her tone changed from shocked to curious. "How was it? Was it… different?"
Sarah bit her lip, ashamed to be gossiping but feeling the strong urge to tell. "Yes,"
she confided. "He's nothing like John. Nothing like him at all."
"Really? What was different? Did he…?" Grace waved a hand as though erasing a
chalkboard. "Oh, forget it. I shouldn't be asking this. But," again her voice lowered, "is he tattooed everywhere?"
Sarah knew it was wrong to talk about him like this, but her inner schoolgirl took over and she nodded, eager to share details. "He's beautiful … like a stained glass window. And he's really good with his … mouth." She raised an eyebrow, giving Grace a significant look.
Her friend gasped and giggled. "But isn't it weird? Touching him?"
"Skin is skin, Grace," Sarah chided. "The tattoos are only on the surface, you know.
He's a man." A sexy, vulnerable, intense, attractive, responsible, sweet, gentle and loving man. #Quote by Bonnie Dee

#28. At the bottom in the gut of jazz if you listen closely you can hear - no matter how complexly, obliquely, mysteriously stylized - somebody talking, crying, growling, singing, farting, praying, stomping, voicing in all those modes through which our bodies communicate some tale about how it feels to be here on earth or leaving, or about the sweet pain of hanging on between the coming and going. #Quote by Zora Neale Hurston

#29. Gracious words are a honeycomb, sweet to the soul and healing to the bones. #Quote by Anonymous

#30. I do not know how old I was when I learned to play chess. I could not have been older than eight, because I still have a chessboard on whose side my father inscribed, with a soldering iron, "Saša Hemon 1972." I loved the board more than chess - it was one of the first things I owned. Its materiality was enchanting to me: the smell of burnt wood that lingered long after my father had branded it; the rattle of the thickly varnished pieces inside, the smacking sound they made when I put them down, the board's hollow wooden echo. I can even recall the taste - the queen's tip was pleasantly suckable; the pawns' round heads, not unlike nipples, were sweet. The board is still at our place in Sarajevo, and, even if I haven't played a game on it in decades, it is still my most cherished possession, providing incontrovertible evidence that there once lived a boy who used to be me. #Quote by Aleksandar Hemon

#31. Finally, sweet finally, he was inside her to the hilt.
"I need a second," he ground out, his body pulsing.
"You're really freaking big, Quinn," she panted. "Move. Please, for the love of the goddess, move."
He grinned before kissing her. "You say such sweet things. #Quote by Carrie Ann Ryan

#32. Every word affords me pain. Yet how sweet it would be if I could hear what the flowers have to say about death! #Quote by Emile M. Cioran

#33. Southern women see no point in the hard way. Life is hard enough. So we add a little sugar to the sour. Which is not to suggest Southern women are disingenuous cream puffs. Quite the opposite. When you are born into a history as loaded as the South's, when you carry in your bones the incontrovertible knowledge of man's violence and limitations, daring to stay sweet is about the most radical thing you can do. #Quote by Allison Glock

#34. She could tell when a woman was pregnant - even before the woman herself might know -just from the way she smelled: a combinaison of brown sugar and Stargazer lilies. Happiness had a pungent scent, like the sourest lime or lemon. Broken hearts smelled surprisingly sweet. Sadness filled the air with a salty, sea-like redolence; death smelled like sadness. #Quote by Leslye Walton

#35. There are a lot of girls I've found attractive, but we could never date. If a girl can make me laugh, that's really attractive to me. I have a soft spot for southern girls who are sweet, like Taylor Swift! #Quote by Spencer Boldman

#36. Giles kissed her again, hard and furious. As if he hated her. He'd been in love for years, yet he'd never realized love could be like this. Like someone struck him with a club over and over again. Like fire devouring him. Sweet and terrible. Painful and fierce. #Quote by Anna Campbell

#37. Back then, we could drive a mile from home and there was nothing. Now it's grown in every direction and is populated and modernized. I guess I have mixed feelings about it, but I'm not someone that thinks everything should stop growing. #Quote by Matthew Sweet

#38. I guess ,you want revenge, Ruthless Me, whispered. You bet your sweet ass, I do. #Quote by C.J. Roberts

#39. O loving woman, man's fulfillment, sweet,
Completing him not otherwise complete!
How void and useless the sad remnant left
Were he of her, his nobler part, bereft. #Quote by Abraham Coles

#40. What a still, hot, perfect day! What a golden desert this spreading moor! Everywhere sunshine. I wished I could live in it and on it. I saw a lizard run over the crag; I saw a bee busy among the sweet bilberries. I would fain at the moment have become bee or lizard, that I might have found fitting nutriment, permanent shelter here. But I was a human being, and had a human being's wants. #Quote by Charlotte Bronte

#41. The most wonderful thing I hear is people coming up and saying 'Thank you for my childhood', which still blows my mind but is very sweet. #Quote by Daniel Radcliffe

#42. We can affect people around us so much with our moods. A depressed person can make a room gloomy and a sweet nature can cause the lion to lie down with the lamb. #Quote by Polly Horvath

#43. I was a pen pal with one guy, a long time ago. I think we only wrote to each other twice. We didn't really keep it up that long. But, I love it. I think it's really sweet and very creative and freeing, when you get to put a pen to paper, 'cause you don't really do it that much these days, with all this technology. #Quote by Vanessa Hudgens

#44. It would not do for the consumer to know that the hamburger she is eating came from a steer who spent much of his life standing deep in his own excrement in a feedlot, helping to pollute the local streams. Or that the calf that yielded the veal cutlet on her plate spent its life in a box in which it did not have room to turn around. Wendell Berry, "The Pleasures of Eating," What Are People For?, 1989 Jesus pioneered a relationship ethic based on compassion. Being a disciple means building relationships - with the Creator and with all creation and creatures. #Quote by Leonard Sweet

#45. I could feel everything. From the tragic cellos, to the tender sounds of the piano giving awe to my touch. My body slowly swayed to the sweet feel of the air sweeping over me. I felt myself being taken away as the hearts of my fans soared with me. #Quote by Charles Lee

#46. No appetite. No sensation in a dry stomach. No desire. No orchids sweet enough to taste. Not the sort of woman to eat sandwiches on a bus. At least not the sort of woman who would eat in the dark. Not anymore. #Quote by John Hawkes

#47. As Gloria Steinem said about Ginger Rogers: She was doing everything Fred Astaire was doing, just doing it backwards in high heels. Well, Southern women are doing and enduring what other women have to do and endure, but (at least until recently) they had to do it in heels and hats and white gloves and makeup and a sweet smile, with maybe a glass of bourbon and a cigarette to get them through the magnolia part of being a steel magnolia. #Quote by Michael Malone

#48. No grief so soft, no pain so sweet, as love's delicious melancholy. #Quote by Frances Sargent Osgood

#49. I don't know any woman in France who doesn't talk to firemen and smile at them, because they're always so sweet, and they're wearing those tight pants. Even my dad looks at their ass when they walk down the street! #Quote by Julie Delpy

#50. What delights us in the spring is more a sensation than an appearance, more a hope than any visible reality. There is something in the softness of the air, in the lengthening of the days, in the very sounds and odors of the sweet time, that caresses us and consoles us after the rigorous weeks of winter. #Quote by Philip Gilbert Hamerton

#51. The prospect of soon losing her companion seemed to give force to every sweet quality and charm which Edith possessed. #Quote by Elizabeth Gaskell

#52. It made no sense. It was crazy, unbelievable, impossible. I had been seen, and I had walked away from it consequence-free. I could not really believe it, but slowly, gradually, as I parked my own car in front of my house and just sat for a moment, Logic came back from its too-long vacation on the island of Adrenaline, and I sat hunched over the steering wheel, and communed once more with sweet reason. All #Quote by Jeff Lindsay

#53. But then Cole ran for her, sliding on his knees to close the final distance between his hands and her skin. Kyle wrapped his head in her arms, cradling him.
"My sweet Cole. That's better. That's better." Kyle braced her hands on his shoulders and slowly lowered herself to her knees. She put her hands on his cheeks and waited until he looked at her. "You forgot something last night."
Cole looked puzzled.
"You made me promise you something. Now you owe me a promise."
Cole nodded somberly.
"Be the real Cole. Promise me you will be you." Kyle's voice was strong and sure.
Cole felt his heart soar with her embrace, settling the feelings inside him. "Kyle, I've done so much wrong. I think I'm done being the real Cole. How much hurt can I cause?" He could hardly speak through his fear.
She smiled again. "I've done my own share of wrong, but look. Look around. We're in the perfect place."
The church looked like paradise. A frame of broken rainbows arched above the lovers on their knees.
Cole held her face to his, whispering, "Help me."
Kyle gave him the absolution he needed with her lips. #Quote by Debra Anastasia

#54. Sweet potato fries #Quote by Jamie McGuire

#55. A few minutes later Agnes had reached the market and was battling through the throng. She stepped over rotting offal and cabbage leaves to prod breasts of pheasant and partridge. She sniffed oysters and herrings and asked the prices of oranges, shouting her requirements over strident cries of "New mackerel!" and "White turnips and fine carrots, ho!" and "Fine China oranges and fresh juicy lemons!" She watched a juggler with blackened teeth catching knives in his mouth, then sampled a corner of gingerbread so spicy tears welled in her eyes. The street child had slipped from her thoughts.
Within the hour, Agnes had arranged deliveries with half a dozen tradesmen whose goods she could not carry, and jotted every item and its price in her notebook for Mrs Tooley's accounts. In her basket she had carefully stowed sweet oranges, Jordan almonds, two dozen pullet eggs, a pickled salmon, half a pound of angelica, the same of glacee cherries. #Quote by Janet Gleeson

#56. You're my rain, Eric. You've been keeping me safe before I even knew you. #Quote by Melyssa Winchester

#57. When they write the history of my reign, sweet sister, they will say that it began tonight. #Quote by George R.R. Martin

#58. I love you because you're tender and sweet, you the hardest and sternest of men. And your sweetness and tenderness are such that they make you as light as a shred of tulle, subtle as a flake of mist, airy as a caprice. Your thick muscles, your arms, your thighs, your hands, are more unreal than the melting of day into night. You envelop me and I contain you. #Quote by Jean Genet

#59. I've sold my soul for freedom. It's lonely but it's sweet. #Quote by Melissa Etheridge

#60. Dan had begun working his way around the room starting at the food wall. "Here's a little wheel to twist" he said, and an instant later, "Genna, it has water in it. Good sweet water. And when you twist the wheel, it stops and starts." And a moment later, "A little room with a privy! But" echoing noises. "Oh," he said, sounding elated, "when you press a handle, water wahses the inside of the privy. You should see this! #Quote by Holly Lisle

#61. I need you, Viola. I need you.'
'You are repeating. You are trying to convince yourself, aren't you?'
'You are an impossible woman. I am declaring my love to you and still you quarrel with me ... Viola, I am perishing before you. *Perishing.*' His tone was strained. 'Say something.'
She nodded.
'What does that mean?'
She nodded again, faster, her throat a clogged mess of joy.
His eyes seemed to sparkle. 'You do love me.'
She got dizzy nodding.
'Why aren't you speaking? What is -'
She clutched her neck ... He looked astounded. Then he pulled her hand away and bent to set his mouth atop her windpipe.
'Function, beautiful harridan's voice,' he murmured, trailing soft, sweet kisses along her throat. #Quote by Katharine Ashe

#62. Anyway,
if my lips were rose petals they'd taste too bitter.
If my cheeks were apples they'd crawl with apple worms.
If my eyes were stars they'd be dead by the time you saw them.
If I moved you like the moon I'd disappear once a month.
If my teeth were Chiclets you'd want to chew on them and spit them out.
If my hands were birds you couldn't hold them; they'd peck you bloody.
Is my skin alabaster? Then it's cold and hard and one day someone will skin me,
make me into a cold hard box tinged with pink or yellow, to hold unguents, then
how will you love me?
If my vagina is a cool, dark forest you'll certainly be lost, you have no sense of direction.
If my vagina is a cave-watch out! It's prone to seismic shifts and avalanche.
If my vagina is a river of honey: orange, lavender, fine herbs, hazelnut, all too sweet.
If my ears are shells I can't hear you, only the ocean anyway.
And if my voice is music, it is unintelligible.
Don't say anything.
I am not a flower, but a body with rules and predictable, cellular qualities.
My eyelashes and fingernails and skin and spit are organized by proteins
designed to erode at a pre-encoded date and time, no matter what you do or do
not do to me-
I am remarkably like an animal.
More like a heifer than a sunrise, I want to bite, stroke, swallow you so stop lying
there trying to think of something to say and trying to understand me.
#Quote by Rachel Zucker

#63. I'm Doctor McMahon with a Ph.D. in sweet-ass rock with an emphasis in set list creation. #Quote by Andrew McMahon

#64. Awake as if for the first time, and you are standing in a part of the town where the air is sweet - your face flushed, your chest thumping, your stomach a planet, your heart a planet, your every organ a separate planet, all of it of a piece though the pieces turn separately, O silent indications of the inevitable, as among the natural restraints of winter and good sense, life blows you apart in her arms #Quote by Anonymous

#65. TIME TO SACRIFICE TAURUS

This is the night of union when the stars
scatter their rice over us. The sky is

excited! Venus cannot stop singing the little songs she's making up, like birds

in the first warm spring weather. The North Star can't quit looking over at Leo.

Pisces is stirring milky dust from the ocean floor. Jupiter rides his horse near

Saturn, "Old man, jump up behind me! The juice is coming back! Think of something

happy to shout as we go. "Mars washes his bloody sword, puts it up, and begins

building things. The Aquarian water jar fills, and the Virgin pours it generously.

The Pleiades and Libra and Aries have no
trembling in them anymore. Scorpio walks

out looking for a lover, and so does
Sagittarius! This is not crooked walking

like the Crab. This is a holiday we've been waiting for. It is finally time to

sacrifice Taurus and learn how the sky is a lens to look through. Listen to what's

inside what I say. Shams will appear at dawn; then even night will change from

its beloved animated darkness to a day
within this ordinary sweet daylight. #Quote by Rumi

#66. Sin is not so sweet in the committing as it is heavy and bitter in the reckoning. #Quote by Richard Sibbes

#67. They're just a bunch of real sweet guys, you know, who just happen to want to kill everybody. #Quote by Douglas Adams

#68. Fair as a lily, joyous and free, light of that little home was she.
Ev'ryone who knew her felt the gentle pow'r of Scarlett Rain, my sweet wildflow'r. #Quote by Ella Rose Carlos

#69. Ten times a day something happens to me like this - some strengthening throb of amazement - some good sweet empathic ping and swell. This is the first, the wildest and the wisest thing I know: that the soul exists and is built entirely out of attentiveness. #Quote by Mary Oliver

#70. Sweet for a little even to fear, and sweet,
O love, to lay down fear at love's fair feet;
Shall not some fiery memory of his breath
Lie sweet on lips that touch the lips of death?
Yet leave me not; yet, if thou wilt, be free;
Love me no more, but love my love of thee.
Love where thou wilt, and live thy life; and I,
One thing I can, and one love cannot - die.
Pass from me; yet thine arms, thine eyes, thine hair,
Feed my desire and deaden my despair.
Yet once more ere time change us, ere my cheek
Whiten, ere hope be dumb or sorrow speak,
Yet once more ere thou hate me, one full kiss;
Keep other hours for others, save me this.
Yea, and I will not (if it please thee) weep,
Lest thou be sad; I will but sigh, and sleep.
Sweet, does death hurt? thou canst not do me wrong:
I shall not lack thee, as I loved thee, long.
Hast thou not given me above all that live
Joy, and a little sorrow shalt not give?
What even though fairer fingers of strange girls
Pass nestling through thy beautiful boy's curls
As mine did, or those curled lithe lips of thine
Meet theirs as these, all theirs come after mine;
And though I were not, though I be not, best,
I have loved and love thee more than all the rest.
O love, O lover, loose or hold me fast,
I had thee first, whoever have thee last;
Fairer or not, what need I know, what care?
To thy fair bud my blossom onc #Quote by Algernon Charles Swinburne

#71. These rare gray afternoons evoke a sweet, childhood melancholy in my soul, like when it rained in kindergarten and we had to stay inside and do crafts with library paste and pipe cleaners and buttons, and I made the best project in the whole class, an ultra-powerful rubber-band zip gun, but the teacher gave me a zero because I got her in the eye with a button. #Quote by Tim Dorsey

#72. Sweet Jesus! Sweet, sweet Jesus!" Mom called to the Savior, caught up in the divine intervention that was Hank and me.
I narrowed my eyes at her. "Stop cal ing Jesus, Mom. Hank's gonna think you're weird," I snapped.
"She is weird," Dad said.
"I'm not weird," Mom returned. #Quote by Kristen Ashley

#73. Wild Peaches"

When the world turns completely upside down
You say we'll emigrate to the Eastern Shore
Aboard a river-boat from Baltimore;
We'll live among wild peach trees, miles from town,
You'll wear a coonskin cap, and I a gown
Homespun, dyed butternut's dark gold color.
Lost, like your lotus-eating ancestor,
We'll swim in milk and honey till we drown.

The winter will be short, the summer long,
The autumn amber-hued, sunny and hot,
Tasting of cider and of scuppernong;
All seasons sweet, but autumn best of all.
The squirrels in their silver fur will fall
Like falling leaves, like fruit, before your shot.


2

The autumn frosts will lie upon the grass
Like bloom on grapes of purple-brown and gold.
The misted early mornings will be cold;
The little puddles will be roofed with glass.
The sun, which burns from copper into brass,
Melts these at noon, and makes the boys unfold
Their knitted mufflers; full as they can hold
Fat pockets dribble chestnuts as they pass.

Peaches grow wild, and pigs can live in clover;
A barrel of salted herrings lasts a year;
The spring begins before the winter's over.
By February you may find the skins
Of garter snakes and water moccasins
Dwindled and harsh, dead-white and cloudy-clear.


3

When April pours the colors of a shell
Upon the hill #Quote by Elinor Wylie

#74. Tis sweet to listen as the night winds creep From leaf to leaf. #Quote by Lord Byron

#75. I love to taste you, do you notice?"
I curl my hands into fists around the pillowcase.
"I think this sweetness is just for me. I pretend your desire has never been like this." He dips a finger inside and brings it up to my lips. "For everyone else it was never so silky and sweet. Tell me it's true. #Quote by Christina Lauren

#76. In the kitchen, Chris pours her a glass of sun tea. Bitter. She hates the way they make tea up here. Tea should be sweet, gritty with sugar. Up here it's like the Yankees want their tea to taste like wash water. #Quote by Chuck Wendig

#77. When April with its sweet showers has pierced the drought of March to the root, and bathed every vein of earth with that liquid by whose power the flowers are engendered; when the zephyr, too, with its dulcet breath, has breathed life into the tender new shoots in every copse and on every hearth, and the young sun has run half his course in the sign of the Ram, and the little birds that sleep all night with their eyes open give song (so Nature prompts them in their hearts), then, as the poet Geoffrey Chaucer observed many years ago, folk long to go on pilgrimages. Only, these days, professional people call them conferences.
The modern conference resembles the pilgrimage of medieval Christendom in that it allows the participants to indulge themselves in all the pleasures and diversions of travel while appearing to be austerely bent on self-improvement. To be sure, there are certain penitential exercises to be performed - the presentation of a paper, perhaps, and certainly listening to papers of others. #Quote by David Lodge

#78. More than happiness or joy or lower blood pressure, the practice of God's presence gives us meaning. Through this practice we become more closely aligned with Jesus and we learn His desire for us more completely.Life can be hard.
The Practice of The Presence of God makes it easier. As Brother Lawrence said, There is not in the world a kind of life more sweet and delightful than that of a continual conversation with God. #Quote by David Paul Kirkpatrick

#79. Sweet rains fall on just and unjust alike #Quote by Oscar Wilde

#80. Can I kiss you?" And she would let him, lightly on her lips, a moment of brief anticipation. "Your kisses are like sugar woman." He would tell her affectionately. "So sweet." He would close in on her and then ask softly, "Please spend the night with me. #Quote by Keira D. Skye

#81. But I know a good man make life more sweet. Someone to hold you and love you, someone to share your dreams with, someone kind and thoughtful. A good man's a treasure. #Quote by Laila Ibrahim

#82. 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

#83. We studied our angels for a few moments more, looking at where we had lain side by side in that sweet, quiet moment. I wished what I'd said was true, that we had truly left our mark on the mountain. But I knew that after the next snowfall, our angels would disappear into the whiteness and be nothing more than a memory. #Quote by Richelle Mead

#84. Thank you ... for gracing my life with your lovely presence, for adding the sweet measure of your soul to my existence. #Quote by Richard Matheson

#85. You've always had my heart."
She looked up, biting her lip and failing to hide her sweet smirk. "That was the cheesiest line I've ever heard."
"That? That's what you tell me when I profess my undying love for you? Fuck, Punky. You're killing me."
She laughed, grabbing two fistfuls of my hair and shaking my head. "I love you. #Quote by Tyler King

#86. He's really sweet, actually."
"I don't think we're talking about the same Sed. Sedric Lionheart. Tall guy. Broad shoulders. Blue eyes. Short black hair. Body befitting a Greek god. Sings. La la la la. #Quote by Olivia Cunning

#87. My whole life I've been ordered about. Now I shall give the orders." I've never seen Felicity so wounded. "Not me," she says. "I never ordered you about." "Oh, Fee." The old Pippa surfaces for just a moment, hopeful and childlike. She pulls Felicity to her. Something I cannot name passes between them, and then Pip's lips are on Fee's in a deep kiss, as if they feed on one another, their fingers entwined in each other's hair. And suddenly, I understand what I must have always known about them - the private talks, the close embraces, the tenderness of their friendship. A blush spreads across my neck at the thought. How could I not have seen it before? #Quote by Libba Bray

#88. Insta-love isn't something that happens in real life. It
happens in the books I read, but not in the world I live. Though here
stands this beautiful, sexy, funny, sweet and amazing guy who has
done everything short of professing love at first sight to me and I'm
still standing here like a pair of lungs suffocating, needing him in
order to breathe. #Quote by Kathryn Perez

#89. When I do 'Sweet Tooth,' really, whatever I want to do with the characters kind of goes. I'm sort of in charge. #Quote by Jeff Lemire

#90. Led by long years to my last hours, too late, O world, I know your joys for what they are. You promise a peace which is not yours to give and the repose that dies before it is born. The years of fear and shame to which Heaven now set a term, renew nothing in me but the old sweet error in which, living overlong a man kills his soul with no gain to his body. I say and I know having put it to the proof, that he has the better part in Heaven whose death falls nearest his birth. #Quote by Michelangelo

#91. Alex reached for his menu.
Jared snagged it before he could open it. "We're
having Surf & Turf," Jared informed him.
"Surf? Aw, man, you know how I feel about fish.
OW!" Alex leaned to rub his leg, glaring across the table at
Stevie.
"Your boyfriend's buying steak and lobster? You
smile sweet and make sure you thank him. Later. After I'm out of the truck. #Quote by Diane Adams

#92. Juliet and Romeo

Awake the scene, a twilight chamber'd dream,
Two angels both alike in dignity:
One imaged misadventure on the screen;
The second struck by moonlight's alchemy.
A pair of star-crossed lovers spends their night;
He in deed dreams such a sight as she,
Swing crystal scales to crispest fair delight.
In his eyes her merry fragrant dance: she
Civil thoughts and civil music meet; on
Fair Lansdowne Street where love lays its scene,
Romeo and Juliet did greet; within
Their airy eyes on hopes and thoughts unseen.
The curtain lifts on this sweet poem with woe,
For love to find Juliet and her Romeo. #Quote by Tiger Lewis

#93. I Don't Know whether lust is a human coarseness or a human fineness: I don't know why death holds a so sweet lure since it would take away my Body: I don't know that I wouldn't deny my Christ, if I had one, three times before a given cockcrow: I don't know on the other hand that I would: I don't know whether honor is a reality in human beings or a pose: I don't know that I mayn't be able to think with my Body when it is in its coffin. #Quote by Mary MacLane

#94. Men have committed murder for jealousy's sake, and anger's sake, and hatred's sake, and selfishness' sake, and spiritual pride's sake; but no man that ever I heard of, ever committed a diabolical murder for sweet charity's sake. #Quote by Herman Melville

#95. Can we get on with this?" Father Laggan cried out. "In the name of the Father…"
"I'm inviting my aunt Millicent and uncle Herbert to come for a visit, Iain, and I'm not going through the council to get permission first."
"… and of the Son," the priest continued in a much louder voice.
"She'll be wanting King John next," Duncan predicted.
"We can't allow that, lass," Owen muttered.
"Please join hands now and concentrate on this ceremony," Father Laggan shouted, trying to gain everyone's attention.
"I don't want King John to come here," Judith argued. She turned to frown at Owen for making such a shameful suggestion. "I want my aunt and uncle. I'm getting them, too." She turned and had to peek around Graham in order to look up at Iain. "Yes or no, Iain."
"We'll see. Graham, I'm marrying Judith, not you. Let go of her hand. Judith, move over here."
Father Laggan gave up trying to maintain order. He continued on with the ceremony. Iain was paying some attention. He immediately agreed to take Judith for his wife.She wasn't as cooperative. He felt a little sorry for the sweet woman. She looked thoroughly
confused.
"Judith, do you take Iain for your husband?"
She looked up at Iain before giving her answer. "We'll see."
"That won't do, lass. You've got to say I do," he advised.
"Do I?"
Iain smiled. "Your aunt and uncle will be welcomed here."
She smiled back.
....
Judith tried not to laugh. She turne #Quote by Julie Garwood

#96. You have to feel the mix and you have to feel the work and the sweet somehow which somebody is investing in that moment in the way that you can really feel the passion. #Quote by Tobias Thomas

#97. I have learned that the bitter, almost unbearable pain can become sweet as you turn to your Father in Heaven and plead for His comfort that comes through His plan; His Son, Jesus Christ; and His Comforter, who is the Holy Ghost. …

"I testify that because of … Jesus Christ, those feelings of sorrow, loneliness, and despair will one day be swallowed up in a fulness of joy. I testify that we can depend on Him and when He said: 'I will not leave you comfortless: I will come to you' (John 14:18). #Quote by Shayne M. Bowen

#98. If he was not commonplace, it was through nothing remarkable in his mind, which was simply clear and practical, but through some combination of qualities of the heart that made men trust him, and women call him sweet
a word of theirs which conveys otherwise indefinable excellences. #Quote by William Dean Howells

#99. Because I can only love you entirely. With everything I am, and everything I ever will be. Body, mind, heart, soul. - Victor Bramwell, Earl of Rycliff. #Quote by Tessa Dare

#100. I was dazed. I was amazed and dazed and frazzled and bedazzled. And bewitched.
This was the worst. And the best. #Quote by Penny Reid

#101. I'm sorry, all I hear was 'I'm having a really bad day, gorgeous man of mine, so please ignore everything I say until I'm back to your sweet Lizzie.' Which, the answer's 'yes, Siren, I can do that. #Quote by S.E. Hall

#102. Everything was coming together by coming apart ... It is the most difficult Zen practice to leave people to their destiny, even though it's painful - just loving them, and breathing with them, and distracting them in a sweet way, and laughing with them ... if something was not my problem, I probably did not have the solution. #Quote by Anne Lamott

#103. It's okay if you're intimidated by my overwhelming masculinity. I promise to take good care of you."
"How sweet of you. But let's be honest. I'd ruin you for other women, and I'm just too nice to do that to an adorable thing like you. #Quote by Katee Robert

#104. Sweet words. Gentle deceptive balm. Help, love, to belong together, to come back again - words, sweet words. Nothing but words. How many words existed for this simple, wild, cruel attraction of two bodies! What a rainbow of imagination, lies, sentiment, and self-deception enclosed it! #Quote by Erich Maria Remarque

#105. Breathing in her clean, sweet scent was like unexpectedly finding almond cookies. So fucking sweet. #Quote by Cherise Sinclair

#106. All other nations are drinking Ray Charles beer and we are drinking Barry Manilow. #Quote by Dave Barry

#107. Fuck," I groan, my voice gritty, my eyes closing as I tilt my head back. Her hand is warm, her skin velvety soft, but her touch is firm as she strokes, hitting just the right places to set me off. Her thumb massages the sweet spot on the underside of my cock, the sensitive outer ridges of the head, right where those nerve endings are bundled.
Jesus, this woman knows her anatomy.
A+
Top marks.
Summa cum laude.
Valedictorian of her motherfucking class. #Quote by J.M. Darhower

#108. But he was coming. He would be here soon, all sweet and brave and shattered and kind. He would come carrying and clever-fingered and oh so unaware of oh so many things. He was rough against the world, but even so ... #Quote by Patrick Rothfuss

#109. At the moment you are most in awe of all there is about life that you don't understand, you are closer to understanding it all than at any other time. #Quote by Jane Wagner

#110. If you say you have apple pie I might have to marry you. #Quote by Dominique Eastwick

#111. Oh, how I love your law! I meditate on it all day long.
Your commands make me wiser than my enemies, for they are ever with me.
I have more insight than all my teachers, for I meditate on your statutes.
I have more understanding than the elders, for I obey your precepts.
How sweet are your words to my taste, sweeter than honey to my mouth!
Psalms 119:97-100, 103 #Quote by Anonymous

#112. The Prologue to TERRITORY LOST

"Of cats' first disobedience, and the height
Of that forbidden tree whose doom'd ascent
Brought man into the world to help us down
And made us subject to his moods and whims,
For though we may have knock'd an apple loose
As we were carried safely to the ground,
We never said to eat th'accursed thing,
But yet with him were exiled from our place
With loss of hosts of sweet celestial mice
And toothsome baby birds of paradise,
And so were sent to stray across the earth
And suffer dogs, until some greater Cat
Restore us, and regain the blissful yard,
Sing, heavenly Mews, that on the ancient banks
Of Egypt's sacred river didst inspire
That pharaoh who first taught the sons of men
To worship members of our feline breed:
Instruct me in th'unfolding of my tale;
Make fast my grasp upon my theme's dark threads
That undistracted save by naps and snacks
I may o'ercome our native reticence
And justify the ways of cats to men. #Quote by Henry N. Beard

#113. What keeps faith cheerful is the extreme persistence of gentleness and humor. Gentleness is everywhere in daily life, a sign that faith rules through ordinary things: through cooking and small talk, through storytelling, making love, fishing, tending animals and sweet corn and flowers, through sports, music, and books, raising kids-all the places where the gravy soaks in and grace shines through. Even in a time of elephantine vanity and greed, one never has to look far to see the campfires of gentle people. Lacking any other purpose in life, it would be good enough to live for their sake. #Quote by Garrison Keillor

#114. Practice self-nurturing, not only to get you through hard times but to guide you into a loving relationship with yourself. When you follow through with a simple act like comforting yourself with homemade soup, bringing home a fragrant flower for your night table, or taking a sweet solitary walk in a beautiful place, then you get an experience of being kind to yourself that can answer all those questions about "what do they mean, love myself?" This question is more easily answered by doing than by thinking. #Quote by Dossie Easton

#115. At sixteen, the youngest Hathaway sibling was at that vulnerable age between childhood and adulthood. A sweet-natured little scamp, she was as inquisitive as one of the many pets she had accumulated. Since Amelia's marriage to Rohan, Beatrix had been begging to go to finishing school. Kev suspected she had read one too many novels featuring heroines who acquired airs and graces at "academies for young ladies." He was doubtful that finishing school would turn out well for the free-spirited Beatrix. #Quote by Lisa Kleypas

#116. I looked at the ornaments on the desk. Everything standard and all copper. A copper lamp, pen set and pencil tray, a glass and copper ashtray with a copper elephant on the rim, a copper letter opener, a copper thermos bottle on a copper tray, copper corners on the blotter holder. There was a spray of almost copper-colored sweet peas in a copper vase.
It seemed like a lot of copper. #Quote by Raymond Chandler

#117. The Grave and The Rose
The Grave said to the Rose,
"What of the dews of dawn,
Love's flower, what end is theirs?"
"And what of spirits flown,
The souls whereon doth close
The tomb's mouth unawares?"
The Rose said to the Grave.
The Rose said, "In the shade
From the dawn's tears is made
A perfume faint and strange,
Amber and honey sweet."
"And all the spirits fleet
Do suffer a sky-change,
More strangely than the dew,
To God's own angels new,"
The Grave said to the Rose #Quote by Victor Hugo

#118. All he had loved, and moulded into thought,
From shape, and hue, and odour, and sweet sound,
Lamented Adonais. Morning sought
Her eastern watch-tower, and her hair unbound,
Wet with the tears which should adorn the ground,
Dimmed the aerial eyes that kindle day;
Afar the melancholy thunder moaned,
Pale Ocean in unquiet slumber lay,
And the wild winds flew round, sobbing in their dismay. #Quote by Percy Bysshe Shelley

#119. Put your arms around my waist,
Hold me close for a kiss and savour the taste,
I love you now I love you true,
Can I drown please in your eyes so blue?
Let's hang our hearts on a crescent moon,
And skinny-dip in starlit lakes to loves sweet tune,
Let's dance on boithrins grassy line,
And waltz 'Neath the canopied leaves of nature fine.
Lets sit afore fires on a winters night
Let me read you poetry aloud by candlelight,
Let's lay under the skylight and tell constellations apart,
And I'll remind you of the place you have in my heart. #Quote by Michelle Geaney

#120. Jesus allows Himself to be bound, because His bonds are to break the chains of our sins. Jesus becomes a slave for our sakes, through the excess of His charity alone, to free our souls from the slavery of the devil. Offer yourself to Him now, to be entirely His, beseeching Him to bind you fast with the sweet chains of His love. #Quote by Ignatius Of The Side Of Jesus Passionist

#121. For wherein is life sweet to him who suffers grief? #Quote by Aeschylus

#122. To Hope
When by my solitary hearth I sit,
And hateful thoughts enwrap my soul in gloom;
When no fair dreams before my 'mind's eye' flit,
And the bare heath of life presents no bloom;
Sweet Hope, ethereal balm upon me shed,
And wave thy silver pinions o'er my head. #Quote by John Keats

#123. The sweet girl in Madrid... It probably wouldn't have worked. The divide was too wide. Memories are hungry, tesoro. You musn't feed them. I'd hate to think that a teenage fling might leave you alone for the rest of your life. #Quote by Ruta Sepetys

#124. The "hole in the moral ozone" is really what's behind the hole in the ozone. #Quote by Leonard Sweet

#125. How can we have rain without clouds? Our troubles have always brought us blessings, and they always will, for they are the dark chariots of God's bright and glorious grace. Before long the clouds will be emptied, and every tender plant will be happier due to the showers. Our God may drench us with grief, but He will refresh us with His mercy. Our Lord's love letters often come to us in dark envelopes. His wagons may rumble noisily across the sky, but they are loaded with benefits. And His rod blossoms with sweet flowers and nourishing fruits. #Quote by Lettie B. Cowman

#126. Sweet, I'm gonna beat you dude." Austin Reese #Quote by Bella Jeanisse

#127. CYRANO:
Thy name is in my heart as in a sheep-bell,
And as I ever tremble, thinking of thee,
Ever the bell shakes, ever thy name ringeth!
All things of thine I mind, for I love all things;
I know that last year on the twelfth of May-month,
To walk abroad, one day you changed your hair-plaits!
I am so used to take your hair for daylight
That,--like as when the eye stares on the sun's disk,
One sees long after a red blot on all things--
So, when I quit thy beams, my dazzled vision
Sees upon all things a blonde stain imprinted.

ROXANE (agitated):
Why, this is love indeed!. . .

CYRANO:
Ay, true, the feeling
Which fills me, terrible and jealous, truly
Love,--which is ever sad amid its transports!
Love,--and yet, strangely, not a selfish passion!
I for your joy would gladly lay mine own down,
--E'en though you never were to know it,--never!
--If but at times I might--far off and lonely,--
Hear some gay echo of the joy I bought you!
Each glance of thine awakes in me a virtue,--
A novel, unknown valor. Dost begin, sweet,
To understand? So late, dost understand me?
Feel'st thou my soul, here, through the darkness mounting?
Too fair the night! Too fair, too fair the moment!
That I should speak thus, and that you should hearken!
Too fair! In moments when my hopes rose proudest,
I never hoped such guerdon. Naught is left me
#Quote by Edmond Rostand

#128. Oh what lies there are in kisses! And their guile so well prepared! Sweet the snaring is; but this is Sweeter still, to be ensnared. #Quote by Heinrich Heine

#129. We are all a volume on a shelf of a library, a story unto ourselves, never possibly described with one word or even very accurately with thousands. A person is never as quiet or unrestrained as they seem, or as bad or good, as vulnerable or as strong, as sweet or as fiesty; we are thickly layered, page upon lying page, behind simple covers. And love - it is not the book itself, but the binding. It can rip us apart or hold us together. #Quote by Deb Caletti

#130. When all things repose, do you alone Awake to hear the sweet harps play To Love before him on his way, And the night wind answering in antiphon Till night is overgone? #Quote by James Joyce

#131. Women are amazing creatures-sweet, soft, gentle, and far more savage than we are. #Quote by Robert A. Heinlein

#132. When the deepest part of you becomes engaged in what you are doing, when your activities and actions become gratifying and purposeful, when what you do serves both yourself and others, when you do not tire within but seek the sweet satisfaction of your life and your work, you are doing what you were meant to be doing. #Quote by Gary Zukav

#133. But Robin ... well, she's OK. We really don't have much in common, though. I get nervous around people who eat all the time. #Quote by Francine Pascal

#134. Oh, sweet cherry tree-
how lovely your blossoms are.
Spring brings joy to life. #Quote by A.K. White

#135. George watches a dog cross the square through the noise and stop to sniff at something then amble off again as if nothing unusual is happening, so maybe something like this just happens here every week. Then, above the heads of everyone in the city, above the highest-tossed of the flags, church bells here and there announce midnight and as if they've been enchanted the next team after that to do a routine does it without drums and bugles but with its musicians humming instead, in tuneful voices and with a gentleness that seems sweet and absurd after the great din of the teams that have gone before. If only all ceremonials and pomp got hummed like that, her mother says. #Quote by Ali Smith

#136. I am sad because I love you, because I love you so much, and because I am not a bee to buzz with you lightly. I am not a flower, not a tree, not a rain-hewn stone. I am not a storm or a cresting wave, not a thorn or a vine. I am not the sun stinging the water, not the moon on the snow. I am not a star in the dark. I am not the dew-wet wind, not the cloud-stained dawn. I am only a girl, a small, plain girl, a girl who must smear her lips in honey to be found sweet. #Quote by Amal El-Mohtar

#137. Caress me sister wind
and stop this hate. #Quote by A.P. Sweet

#138. If we are in tune with the Spirit, if we are seeking the Lord and His guidance, if our direction is to return to our Father in Heaven, the sweet moments will come. And we will treasure them, for we have become instruments in the hands of God #Quote by Bonnie D. Parkin

#139. She couldn't hold in her irritation. "What's so funny?"
He reached out and touched the tip of her nose.
"You. #Quote by Caroline Fyffe

#140. The old always think the world is getting worse; it is for the young, equipped with historical facts, to point out that, compared with 1509, or even 1939, life in 2009 is sweet as honey. #Quote by Hilary Mantel

#141. Song I try to make the step-down call of the chickadee, but do it too insistently, over and over so it loses sense, the air going equally out and back, not slower in the opening, then quickening as the tight hinge retracts, but absolutely evenly, too even, the way one breathes and regulates breath for a doctor, to present the body's equanimity. There's a bird in a tree with a hinge in its throat, a door opening to let the sweet air pass from a high, thin place down a notch. There's phlox out there, opening between one black and another black, hanging branch of an apple tree - the very tree that holds the bird that bends the air so parenthetically around itself, and its song around anything listening. #Quote by Lia Purpura

#142. It's not soft. It's not sweet. It's something wild and three long years in the making. A kiss that purges the memory of all other kisses before him. #Quote by A. Zavarelli

#143. Choose what ever suite suits you best," Arin said. "But please: keep that tiger in his cage."
"Arin's a kitten," Roshar protested. Purely for the purpose of annoying Arin, it seemed, Roshar had named the tiger after him. "He's sweet-tempered and polite and very good-looking ... unlike some people I could mention. #Quote by Marie Rutkoski

#144. Having love means not losing the light.And what love!Love entirely pure.Blindness does not exist where there is certainty.The soul gropes for another soul-and finds it.And this soul found and tried and tested is a woman.A hand supports you,it is hers;lips brush your forehead,hers;you hear breathing right next to you,it is her breathing.To have all of her,from her devotion to her sympathy,never to be abandoned,to have that sweet frailty that succours you,to lean on such an unshakable reed,to touch Providence with your own hands and hold it in your arms. #Quote by Victor Hugo

#145. It was clear to her now, Happiness was a seductive illusion. No one as fucked up as her deserved one drop of joy. But oh god was it delicious when it fell into her lap for a little while. (Such a pretty face) she muses (with such a bruised and battered soul). When the dawn of a promise fades into the dusk of reality, all that remains is the nightmare. Sweet, sweet loneliness. Shadows come to play and prey on her beaten mind. Her lovely little dreams of poison. #Quote by Solange Nicole

#146. Why worry, if today be sweet'? #Quote by Thrity Umrigar

#147. You're a good kid, darlin'. A good, sweet kid. Promise me you'll stay that way, yeah? No matter what you see, no matter what sort of fucked up shit happens to you. Don't let this life turn you bitter.
- Deuce to Eva (Undeniable) #Quote by Madeline Sheehan

#148. He is rainwater and smoke and wishes. He is honey and wind and bitter as truth and sharp with hurting and endlessly, unbearably sweet. He is air, finally, endlessly #Quote by Amy Zhang

#149. Everything in woman is a riddle, and everything in woman
hath one solution - it is called pregnancy.
Man is for woman a means: the purpose is always the
child. But what is woman for man?
Two different things wanted the true man: danger and
diversion. Therefore wanted he woman, as the most dangerous plaything.
Man shall be trained for war, and woman for the recreation of the warrior: all else is folly.
Too sweet fruits - these the warrior like not. Therefore like he woman; - bitter is even the sweetest woman.
Better than man doth woman understand children, but
man is more childish than woman.
In the true man there is a child hidden: it wanted to
play. Up then, ye women, and discover the child in man! #Quote by Friedrich Nietzsche

#150. Come here, baby." And with my words, Echo leaned into me soft, pliant, broken. "You're not alone," I whispered into her hair as I cradled her in my arms. "You're not alone, because you have me." And I love you, more than you could ever know #Quote by Katie McGarry

#151. The Victor that he knew was dead, replaced by something cold and vicious. A twisted, violent version of himself. Victor had never been good, or sweet--he'd always had a sharp edge; Eli had been drawn to the metallic glint of it-- #Quote by V.E. Schwab

#152. Sow good services: sweet remembrances will grow from them. #Quote by Madame De Stael

#153. If my heart grows any fonder, it's going to hop out of my chest and into yours. #Quote by Olivia Cunning

#154. I know you're the only pistol champion we have, but I'd rather they no see enough of you to hit. You're also the only wife I have ... "
"You're so sweet.'
" ... at the moment. #Quote by Clive Cussler

#155. 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

#156. OK, I love 'The King and I.' I'm a huge Yul Brynner fan. I love the scene where they danced after the big banquet; that's one of my favorite scenes in a movie of all time. It's romantic and sweet and wonderful. #Quote by Tina Majorino

#157. Sleeping only six hours a night for a week in a row will make you feel on that eighth day as if you'd gotten no sleep at all. Seven and a half to eight hours remains the sweet spot. #Quote by Sanjay Gupta

#158. The pageant of the river bank had marched steadily along, unfolding itself in scene-pictures that succeeded itself in stately procession.

Purple loosestrife arrived early, shaking luxuriant locks along the edge of the mirror whence its own face laughed back at it. Willow-herb, tender and wistful, like a pink sunset-cloud was not slow to follow. Comfrey, the purple hand-in-hand with the white, crept forth to take its place in the line; and at last one morning the diffident and delaying dog-rose stepped delicately on the stage, and one knew, as if string music has announced it in stately chords that strayed into a gavotte, that June at last was here.

One member of the company was still awaited; the shepherd-boy for the nymphs to woo, the knight for whom the ladies waited at the window, the prince that was to kiss the sleeping summer back to life and love. But when meadow-sweet, debonair and odorous in amber jerkin, moved graciously to his place in the group, then the play was ready to begin. #Quote by Kenneth Grahame

#159. Vengeance is sweet. Vengeance taken when the vengee isn't sure who the venger is, is sweeter still. #Quote by Gary D. Schmidt

#160. You're my sweet, sexy, goddess of love and I want you and every beautiful little thing that you make. #Quote by Giselle Fox

#161. Sometimes, the Lord just takes blessed people because they've filled their purpose early. Everyone plays their own song. They sing their story to the world and leave behind a melody of memories. Sometimes ... their song is cut short and ends too early. But that doesn't mean their music was any less sweet or that they left any less of an impression. #Quote by Linda Kage

#162. With the way Bertha can cook and her good-natured personality, she'll be married in no time. We'll see to it!" She cast a speculative glance around. "Why I see ten available men within a hundred feet of us. ... Bertha will manage just fine…" I hope. #Quote by Debra Holland

#163. Kissing you is terrifying, breathing your same air makes my knees weak, when I'm around you it's a tie between wanting to chase you down – or just kiss you until you can't breathe. #Quote by Rachel Van Dyken

#164. Are you both drunk?" I headed up the ladder and propped myself on a swing with no problem.
"Correction, dear brother." Hex held one finger in the air. "We're exquisitely tipsy. #Quote by Kenya Wright

#165. I thought of my sweet little girl and her chubby cheeks, big brown eyes and long brown hair with bangs that constantly needed trimming. She was all that really mattered in this world, and I could not keep moping over some guy who came in and out of my life faster than a season of American Idol. #Quote by Kate Madison

#166. It probably says something about the state of your love life that your girlfriend promising to try and murder slightly fewer people seems like a really sweet and romantic gesture. #Quote by Alexis Hall

#167. Eyes blurred, she drove away. Alone, buzzing down the asphalt trail to Kayenta, heart beating, her pistons leaping madly up and down, Bonnie Abbzug relapsed into the sweet luxury of tears. Hard to see the road. She turned on the windshield wipers but that didn't help much. #Quote by Edward Abbey

#168. Sometimes he mulled over the idea that the next time the door opened he would take control of the family affairs as he had done in the past; these musings led him once more after such a long interval to conjure up the figures of the boss, the head clerk, the salesmen, the apprentices, the dullard of an office manager, two or three friends from other firms, a sweet and fleeting memory of a chambermaid in one of the rural hotels, a cashier in a milliner's shop whom he had wooed earnestly but too slowly- they all appeared mixed up with strangers or nearly forgotten people, but instead of helping him and his family they were each and every one unapproachable, and he was relieved when they evaporated. #Quote by Franz Kafka

#169. The speaker points out the nature of the triumphal procession in 2 Corinthians 2:16-17. He shows that to the victors the aroma of the triumphal procession was sweet but that to the captured prisoners it represented an impending death. 5000 prisoners were necessary for a triumphal procession, and, by contrast, God drew 5000 to Himself in Acts 2. #Quote by David McGee

#170. I had a chat with May and I had a sweet talk with April but the lovely conversation that left me to ponder was the long talk I had with June. Mathematics came to tell me that May is 3, June is 4 and April is 5. ' This should have been the counting order' Mathematics said to me, and added, if you add 3 and 5 you shall surely get 8 and if you find the mid of 8 you will get 4 which is June. Ask June why the disorder! So I quickly called June and asked, why have you change the order? June said, 'my brother, in this era, you should least give men things which are in order. Let them ponder and put things in order and they will learn something better'. I had to ponder and wonder. Then June added, those who will ponder to know why I have change the order to be at the mid of the other shall get to the mid of the other and wonder why they are at the mid of the other and end the other in wonder but, those who would never see why they must ponder when they get to the mid of the other to know why I am there shall end the other in disorder. They shall end the other and wander in the end! I was quick to ask June, which other? June calmly said, the twelve disciples of the year. Disciples'? I asked. June quickly said, I mean months! In your journey of life, take a break as you journey and ponder over the journey; June concluded! #Quote by Ernest Agyemang Yeboah

#171. There's a certain kind of research you have to listen to - the factual stuff, not opinion. Facts are facts. Sugar is sweet - it's not a matter of opinion. It just is. #Quote by Paul Rand

#172. Ugh. You're being ... you."
"Was that in English?"
"This is all your fault."
"Nope. Definitely not English."
"You're being all hot and sexy, dammit," she said. She banged her head on his chest a few times. "And I can't seem to ... not notice said hotness and sexiness. #Quote by Jill Shalvis

#173. How sweet to move at summer's eve
By Clyde's meandering stream,
When Sol in joy is seen to leave
The earth with crimson beam;
When islands that wandered far
Above his sea couch lie,
And here and there some gem-like star
Re-opes its sparkling eye. #Quote by Andrew Park

#174. Dust in a cloud, blinding weather,
Drums that rattle and roar!
A mother and daughter stood together
Beside their cottage door.

'Mother, the heavens are bright like brass,
The dust is shaken high,
With labouring breath the soldiers pass,
Their lips are cracked and dry.'

'Mother, I'll throw them apples down,
I'll bring them pails of water.'
The mother turned with an angry frown
Holding back her daughter.

'But mother, see, they faint with thirst,
They march away to die,'
'Ah, sweet, had I but known at first
Their throats are always dry.'

'There is no water can supply them
In western streams that flow,
There is no fruit can satisfy them
On orchard trees that grow.'

'Once in my youth I gave, poor fool,
A soldier apples and water,
So may I die before you cool
Your father's drouth, my daughter. #Quote by Robert Graves

#175. You sweet thing," he murmured. "You're the sweetest thing. I don't know what to do, what to do, Tania." He kissed her lips #Quote by Paullina Simons

#176. She gave me eyes, she gave me ears; And humble cares, and delicate fears; A heart, the fountain of sweet tears; And love and thought and joy. #Quote by William Wordsworth

#177. He wouldn't spend another standing in the darkness, hot and sick and shaking inside with a confused mess of feelings that weren't worth analyzing. That he shouldn't have felt anyway.
With Rachel gone it was like balancing on the edge of a cliff - and all the little wildflowers, the netting of grass and roots that kept the cliff from sliding into the sea below, were gone. It was just Matt standing there looking down, waiting to fall.
Even Rachel's memory, the sweet recollection of all they had built, all they had shared, was no longer strong enough to fight gravity. From the moment he had looked across the wet grass and seen Nathan Doyle standing in the shadow of a stone saber-toothed tiger, something had changed inside him. Something battened down had torn free, like a sail taking its first deep breath of sea air.
It terrified him.
And at the same time it exhilarated him.
Which terrified him all the more. #Quote by Josh Lanyon

#178. I think we each have a personal sweet spot as well. It's the state of mind in which we experience the most joy and satisfaction in being ourselves. And from that place of pleasure and joy in being ourselves, energy arises to flow out into our day bringing with it the depth and resonance of our own beingness, bringing with it blessing. #Quote by David Spangler

#179. Put your arms around my neck, sweetheart."
"Whatever for?"
He grasped her wrists and lifted her arms himself. "Because," he whispered, "we're going to dance."
...
"This will never work. I appreciate the thought. It's very sweet, but-"
"Shut up," he whispered.
The first notes of the next number drifted to them, and she realized it was the band's rendition of Montgomery's hit song, "I swear." Tears sprang to her eyes, for the instant she recognized the tune, she knew Ryan had requested it.
"Dance with me," he whispered.
"I feel foolish."
"Who'll see? Only me, and I'm our best bud, so I don't count. Besides, why should you feel foolish?"
"My legs are dangling. My feet will thump your shins."
"Those soft slippers won't hurt my shins," he assured her.
And with that, he swept her into a waltz.
-Ryan and Bethany (Phantom Waltz) #Quote by Catherine Anderson

#180. The Russian did not wave or speak, but he looked directly into Billy's soul with sweet hopefulness, as though Billy might have good news for him
news he might be too stupid to understand, but good news all the same. #Quote by Kurt Vonnegut

#181. Has he called you at all?" Violet asked, even though she already knew the answer. Chelsea would have exploded with joy if he had.
"No," Chelsea answered glumly, and then she snapped her gum, earning herself another scowl from the librarian. She ignored the scolding look. "And I don't get it. I've given him my best material, including the I'm-easy-and-you-can-totally-have-me bedroom eyes. What's he waiting for?" Chelsea stopped talking and dropped her face into her open history book. "Look out, crazy librarian at nine o'clock."
By the time Mrs. Hertzog reached them, Chelsea was pretending to be interested in her assignment, filling in the dates on her paper as if it were the most fascinating homework in the world. Although Violet was almost certain that the War of 1812 hadn't occurred in 1776.
"Miss Morrison, do I need to remind you that you're supposed to be working? Your teacher sent you down here to study, not to socialize." She smiled sweetly at Violet. Chelsea's gaze narrowed as she glared, first at Violet and then at Mrs. Hertzog. But, wisely, she kept her mouth shut. "If you need help finding reference material," Mrs. Hertzog offered, glancing over the answers on Chelsea's paper, "I'd be happy to point you in the right direction…"
Chelsea swallowed, and Violet suspected she'd just swallowed her gum, since gum was a library no-no, before answering. "No, thanks. I think I've got it covered." She smiled, trying for sweet but getting closer to sour. "Unl #Quote by Kimberly Derting

#182. I just try to stick to clean foods, anything grilled like salmon, chicken, fish, brown rice, and veggies. I do have a really big sweet tooth, so I try to curb my cravings with fruit instead. #Quote by Katherine Webb

#183. Aunt Rachel removes the knaffea from the oven and places it on its sumptuous tray; the shredded phyllo dough is crisp and brown, crackling with hot, rose-scented syrup. Nestled within, like a naughty secret, is the melting layer of sweet cheese. The pastry is freshly hot, the only way to eat it, really, with its miraculous study in contrasts - the running cheese hidden within crisp, crackling layers of baked phyllo and the distinctive, brocaded complexities of flavors. It's so hot that it steams in your mouth, and at first you eat it with just the tips of your teeth. Then the layers of crisp and sweet and soft intermingle, a series of surprises. It is so rich and dense that you can eat only a little bit, and then it is over and the knaffea is just a pleasant memory - like a lovely dream that you forget a few seconds after you wake. But for a few seconds, you knew you were eating knaffea. #Quote by Diana Abu-Jaber

#184. Still others reflected on how quickly the food could be snatched from a man's table, or the child from a woman's breast, or the wife from a man's bedcloset, that no strength of grasp could hold these goods in place. And others remarked to themselves how sweet these goods were, in spite of that, and saw that pleasure lost in every moment is pleasure lost forever. #Quote by Jane Smiley

#185. There is so much silence all around
that I think I can hear
moonlight crashing against the
windows.

A foreign voice
awakes inside my breast,
singing a longing which is not my
own.

They say that ancestors, who died
before their time,
with young blood in their veins,
with great passions in their blood,
with living sun in passions,
return,
return to live
inside us
their unspent lives.

There is so much silence all around
that I think I can hear
moonlight crashing against the
windows.

Oh, who knows, my soul -in whose
breast you too will sing, in centur-
ies to come,
on sweet strings of silence
on a harp of darkness,
your smothered longing and your
broken joy of life? Who knows?
Who knows? #Quote by Lucian Blaga

#186. Once the wedding gift was out of the way, Marlboro Man and I had to check one last item off our list before we entered the Wedding Zone: premarital counseling. It was a requirement of the Episcopal church, these one-hour sessions with the semiretired interim priest who led our church at the time. Logically, I understood the reasoning behind the practice of premarital discussions with a man of the cloth. Before a church sanctions a marriage union, it wants to ensure the couple grasps the significance and gravity of the (hopefully) eternal commitment they're making. It wants to give the couple things to think about, ideas to ponder, matters to get straight. It wants to make sure it's not sending two young lovers into what could be an avoidable domestic catastrophe. Logically, I grasped the concept.
Practically, however, it was an uncomfortable hour of sitting across from a sweet minister who meant well and asked the right questions, but who had clearly run out of juice in the zest-for-marriage department. It was emotional drudgery for me; not only did I have to rethink obvious things I'd already thought about a thousand times, but I also had to watch Marlboro Man, a quiet, shy country boy, assimilate and answer questions put to him by a minister he'd only recently met on the subject of love, romance, and commitment, no less. Though he was polite and reverent, I felt for him. These were things cowboys rarely talked about with a third party. #Quote by Ree Drummond

#187. Everyone can be in a relationship. And being in a relationship doesn't means that you have to catch each other hands and walk in-front of everyone without caring anyone. Make conversations short and sweet..and to the point. Don't keep talking over the phones for hours with the things that doesn't makes sense. First priority should be parents. If wanna be in a relationship do it in a standard way. And first focus on what you should do. Do not prioritize your ambition on some one just without caring your parents.First focus on making life so that you can keep your parents and relationship happy. That when you are successful only then take a big step. #Quote by Lalit Sharma

#188. Najia can feel yts subdermal activators against her forearm. Not man not woman not both not neither. Nute. Another way of being human, speaking a phsyical language she does not understand. More alien to her than any man, any father, yet this body next to hers is loyal, tough, funny courageous, clever, kind, sensual, vulnerable. Sweet. Sexy. All you could wish in a friend of the soul. Or a lover. #Quote by Ian McDonald

#189. From Chapter 1:
"You're not a local." I paused, unsure. "Or are you?"
"Sort of. Randall Van Dotson is my dad. I'm Rennie."
After tossing her head that coy, sweet way girls do, she gave me a candid appraisal. #Quote by Ed Lynskey

#190. There is a peculiar burning odor in the room, like explosives. the kitchen fills with smoke and the hot, sweet, ashy smell of scorched cookies. The war has begun. #Quote by Alison Lurie

#191. The honeysuckle was everywhere the day the letter arrived, like heat. Wild roses bloomed in hedges of tendrils and perfume. There were fat bees, dirigible bees, plump and miniature. It was a sweet, tangled morning, and the sun rose, leisurely, in a spectacular blush. #Quote by Cathleen Schine

#192. The wind hums low with sweet exultation, sings its lullaby, while you sleep ... #Quote by John Geddes

#193. Mab narrowed her eyes, and a little smile graced her lips. "Impudent," she said. "It's sweet on you. #Quote by Jim Butcher

#194. Her gaze flicks back to my lips, and for a moment, I think she's waiting for me to respond. But then she throws herself into my arms and kisses me.
Finally. That's the only word running through my head as I kiss her back. Maybe not the most romantic sentiment, but I can't help it. All those times we've kissed, she's felt so hesitant. Now she's just as desperate as I am, and her lips are sweet and incredible. #Quote by Olivia Rivers

#195. Sookie, my little bullet-sucker
Eric, my big bullshitter #Quote by Charlaine Harris

#196. Dangerous events were transformed over the years into humorous anecdotes; painful moments were modified into sweet tales of innocence. #Quote by Nicholas Sparks

#197. But in the midst of this decaying, burning city, there are pockets of hope. It can be found in the tiny dark rooms in underground bars, where women with short hair cheer on men in dresses. It can be felt in abandoned cinemas where anonymous strangers fall in love if only for a few moments, and in the living rooms where families crowd around, drinking sweet black tea and Skyping their homesick relatives so that together they can watch the long, rambling talk shows that go on all night. #Quote by Saleem Haddad

#198. As far as boyfriends were concerned, I dated, had a lot of
meaningless relationships and that was pretty much it. It was really
hard to find a decent guy. A guy that would be worthwhile. They
were all great in the beginning, sweet and caring, sensitive and
romantic. But if you scratched deeper, you would find NOTHING.
Plenty of nothing. Sometimes one might even be surprised just how
much nothing there was, but not me. No. Somehow, I had learned
to brace myself for the worst. But, to be honest, it wasn't always
the case. Some of the guys weren't that empty beneath the surface,
some even proved to be quite the opposite. True-Prince-charming
kind of guys... And their girlfriends! They were even more charming
princesses when they found out. Well, I guess we all have our little
flaws... So, after some time, I was finally coming to terms with the
genuine truth that there was no such thing as a perfect boyfriend.
On the other hand, Melina was waiting for her prince on a
white horse, and was honestly expecting him to show up single. No
matter how many times I'd tried to convince her that all a girl gets
from that prince-on-a-white-horse fairytale is actually and inevitably
a horse and no prince, she never believed that. #Quote by Danka V.

#199. I blame my dad for my sweet tooth. His motto was 'Life is short; eat dessert first.' How can I argue with that? #Quote by Wendy Mass

#200. There on the sofa, as I nursed Maxie and her eyes slid closed, I said to the girls, 'I think nursing is where kisses come from.' I had been thinking about it. Nursing had to be the place where nurturing and sweet milk and soft skin and mouths and warmth all came together and started to mean something about love.
I had always assumed kissing was a learned thing, like waving bye-bye or speaking a language. But since Maxie, I'd decided that it was innate, the adult version of something we know to do from the moment we're born. All of it tied together in the cycle of life. #Quote by Katherine Center