Best 179 quotes in «touching quotes» category

The comedy in our lives was those first few weeks we lived together in Paris: Our bodies desired one another, our souls opened for one another. We experienced all of the happiness and anguish of first love. Those first few weeks in Paris, we barely touched lips; yet the few times we did, it had the force of a collision of stars.

The heart that bleeds, knows true heartache.-Nina Jean Slack

The only sounds in the cave were the hopeless, abandoned sobbing, and plop-plop-plop of the drips. Petra looked at us, then at the figure on the bed, then at us again, expectantly. When neither of us moved she appeared to decide that the initiative lay with her. She crossed to the bedside and knelt down concernedly beside it. Tentatively she put a hand on the dark hair. 'Don't,' she said. 'Please don't.' There was a startled catch in the sobbing. A pause, then a brown arm reached out round Petra's shoulders. The sound became a little less desolate ... it no longer tore at one's heart: but it left it bruised and aching..

Then he said a strange thing, but to himself. `They lived, didn't they?' And I said yes, that when one reads old letters one understands that people in the past really did live, and it is very touching.

Touching a flower is touching life; touching the sun is touching life; touching the skin, touching the sand, all of this means touching life! No touch, no life!

There was a time to be alone, but a time when a close friend filled that space so much better.

Touching him was always so important to me. It was something I lived for. I never could explain why. Little, nothing touches. My fingers against his shoulder. The outsides of our thighs touching as we squeezed together on the bus. I couldn't explain it, but I needed it. Sometimes I imagined stitching all of our little touches together. How many hundreds of thousands of fingers brushing against each other does it take to make love? Why does anyone ever make love?

Touching is a powerful act

There's a lot of beauty to be found in sadness and melancholia. One of the things that you find time and time again - not just with music, but with literature - is that things that appear to be quite depressing on the surface can ironically be very uplifting and touching to other people. When you hear something that really reminds you that you're not alone in feeling sad, depressed, melancholic, angry - I think that can actually be a very cathartic experience.

There’s a pulse in my body, vibrating every pressure point. “I like kissing you.” His hand lowers to my waist. “I could kiss you forever.” I lazily glance at him from under my eyelashes. “Just kissing.” Because I think I’ll combust if we do more. The right side of his mouth quirks. “Just kissing. And some touching.” To prove his point Isaiah’s hands caress my back, weave into my hair and slide against the dip of my waist. Yes, definitely some touching. I inhale deeply, reminding myself that breathing is still a requirement. “I agree. Some touching. No new clothes off.” Because I’d probably pass out at the thought of his jeans off. They already hang low on his hips. Too low. Very low. Low enough that I start to imagine what more there is to him. Isaiah wraps his hand around the back of my neck and performs this deep massage that makes my eyes roll into my head in ecstasy. “I’ll put my shirt back on if you want.” “No,” I breathe out. “I’m fine with it off.” More than fine.

they dip and dance like barn swallows at dusk glancing wingtip-to-wingtip against a lavender sky barely touching - yet, each creating thermals for the other to catch and ride - higher and yet, higher - towards a pale star...

Touching law enforcement generally leads to assault charges.

Well, if you don't want me to show you affection in public-" "Do," he interrupted. "Please. Touch me. All the time. All ways.

We fit the pieces of our life together in a pattern, but there is no image on the puzzlebox to guide us.

We haven’t talked since the café, and he’s dead wrong if he thinks I’m caving. I don’t care how many wicked smiles he flashes in my direction or how many times he “mistakenly” brushes his hand against my cheek or thigh. He can make my head spin and my blood run hot, but I’m strong enough to resist his every temptation.

We're just two lost souls Swimming in a fish bowl, Year after year, Running over the same old ground. What have we found? The same old fears. Wish you were here.

You are...beyond my imagination. It's a wonder you can be touched at all.

We touch people mostly without touching them: We touch them with our words, with our smile, with our eyes, with our courage, with our madness, with millions of different ways! What are we? We are contacting beings without contacting!

What I can't figure out is if you know you're a tease and are fuckin' with me or whether you really are innocent." "I'm not a tease." I cock an eyebrow, then look down at my upper thigh where she's parked her hand. She snatches it away. "Okay, I didn't mean to put my hand there. Well, I mean, not really. It just kinda . . . wh . . . what I mean to say is--" "I like it when you stutter," I say as I pull her down next to me and show her my own version of a Swedish massage until we're interrupted by Sierra and Doug.

What would you do without me?” he asked one night. We were tangled in the silky sheets of his gigantic bed. My heart was still pounding as I came down from the high of what we’d just done, and he wasn’t helping matters by putting his lips so close to my ear. “Live a happy… happy life,” I murmured. “I might even… be an optimist… if you weren’t around.” “Liar.” He bit my earlobe playfully. “You’d be absolutely miserable. Admit it, Duffy. I’m the wind beneath your wings.” I bit my lip, but I still couldn’t hold back the laughter-and just as I was finally catching my breath, too. “You just referenced Bette Midler… in bed. I’m starting to question your sexuality, Wesley.” Wesley looked at me with a defiant glint in his eye. “Oh, really?” He grinned before moving his mouth back to my ear and whispering, “We both know that my manhood has never been in question… I think you’re just changing the subject because you know it’s true. I’m the light of your life.” “You…” I struggled for words as Wesley pressed his mouth into the crook of my neck. The tip of his tongue moved down to my shoulder and made my brain get all fuzzy. How was I supposed to argue under these conditions? “You wish. I’m just using you, remember?” His laughter was muffled against my skin. “That’s amusing,” he said, his lips still grazing my collarbone. “Because I’m pretty sure your ex is out of town by now.” One of his hands slid between my knees. “Yet you’re still here, aren’t you?” His fingers began gliding up and down my inner thigh, making it difficult for me to think of a retort. He seemed to like this, because he laughed again. “I don’t think you hate me, Duffy. I think you like me a lot.

When authors write from personal experiences,straight from the heart,it touches the readers. Their work speaks out to all who read it,and most of the time,people can relate to what was written. I have always believed that books can change people's lives. Especially ones where the author is sincere,and writes deep,thoughtful,touching things from their hearts."-Nina Jean Slack

When a woman is romantically subdued, all she does at that moment is under the influence of her desires.

Yes, looking through the eyes of literature we may talk about the beauty of sadness! But in the eyes of truth, sadness is just saddening; there is no beauty there, only a touching desperation!

You are so beautiful,” he whispered, kissing her softly on the lips. “I can’t believe I got to have you.” “You’re the only one who has,” Carrie smiled, “And I wouldn’t have had it any other way.

You can't plan someone else's future, and I fully plan to become someone else.

You don’t need to be the tide to rise and fall, you don’t have to be a wave to touch the shore; just be a little sand-grain and feel them all

And wasn't my mind also like another crib in the depths of which I felt I remained ensconced, even in order to watch what was happening outside? When I saw an external object, my awareness that I was seeing it would remain between me and it, lining it with a thin spiritual border that prevented me from ever directly touching its substance; it would volatize in some way before I could make contact with it, just as an incandescent body brought near a wet object never touches its moisture because it is always preceded by a zone of evaporation.

your hand touching mine. this is how galaxies collide.

You wanted hearts and flowers. You have my heart - & here are the flowers.

A blowtorch is a wonderful thing. You can get one of those for about 25 bucks at Home Depot. And there's a ton of things that you can use a blowtorch for, in browning a steak or touching up the browning of a chicken or making creme brulee.

Americans are a lot more open, of course. There's something more declamatory in the way you express emotions. It's a stereotype but it's true. British people can appear repressed in expressing emotions. Not very good at self-evaluating, or affirming situations, touching, anything like that.

Be advised what thou dost discourse of, and what thou maintainest whether touching religion, state, or vanity; for if thou err in the first, thou shalt be accounted profane; if in the second, dangerous; if in the third, indiscreet and foolish.

As concerning faith we ought to be invincible, and more hard, if it might be, than the adamant stone; but as touching charity, we ought to be soft, and more flexible than the reed or leaf that is shaken with the wind, and ready to yield to everything.

But, by just being myself, I end up touching a lot more people who might never have paid much attention to a female rapper.

Be it a weakness, it deserves some praise, We love the play-place of our early days; The scene is touching, and the heart is stone, That feels not at that sight, and feels at none.

I am not a sun person at all. I think it's a cancerous poison and I don't want it touching me.

By burning nuclear waste as fuel, we believe we can power the United States cleanly for hundreds of years without ever touching new resources.

[Donald] Trump is touching a nerve because people want the wall to be built. They want to see an end to illegal immigration. They want to see it, and we all do. But we all have different ways of getting there.

Edward and I had not had a last grand scene of farewell, nor did I plan one. To speak the word was to make it final. It would be the same as typing the words The End on the last page of a manuscript. So we did not say our goodbyes, and we stayed very close to each other, always touching. Whatever end found us, it would not find us separated.

Experts must read the patterns and judge their usefulness as evidence. Under any of numerous pressures, an expert may wish to misread a pattern or even to alter it. Americans had a touching trust in "experts".

By touching you may kill, by keeping away you may possess.

I didn’t care about anything except her and the way touching her drove me wild, even as her calm and steady presence soothed the storms that raged within me.

I love The End of the Batman story. I have my original copy, the hardcover, at my house from when I was a kid, whenever that was,'88 or '89. It was very influential to me because it was so explicit in touching on the notion that Batman might be mad and that he might belong in the mad house.

I do not like people touching my underwear. That's just weird! I travel with a washer and dryer, and I like cooking on the bus, too.

‎I have always been fascinated by the ocean, to dip a limb beneath its surface and know that I'm touching eternity, that it goes on forever until it begins here again.

If you'd rather live surrounded by pristine objects than by the traces of happy memories, stay focused on tangible things. Otherwise, stop fixating on stuff you can touch and start caring about stuff that touches you.

I like to use as few commas as possible so that sentences will go down in one swallow without touching the sides.

In the fifties I had dreams about touching a naked woman and she would turn to bronze or the dream about hot dogs chasing donuts through the Lincoln Tunnel.

Imagine wasting all that perfectly good anger on paranoid fantasies. Not since Emily Litella got upset about "Soviet jewelry" has there been such a waste of anger. You will notice a certain theme to these Emily Litella Moments. Behind them all is a touching faith that someone, somewhere is actually in charge of what's happening - a proposition I beg leave to doubt.

In little towns, lives roll along so close to one another; loves and hates beat about, their wings almost touching.