Best 1296 quotes in «bed quotes» category

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

You just can't be good in bed anymore. You have to be good at the keyboard too.

You just stay the course, and do what it is that you do, and grow while you're doing it. Eventually it will either come full circle, or at least you'll go to bed at night happy.

You just can't wake up out of bed and think you can figure out a gym. You definitely need some personal training.

You know your getting older when you lay in bed til 10am and think to yourself god I just wasted half the day.

You look in my room and it looks neat enough but if you dared to look under my bed or in my closet, oh what a mess!

You look like you're ready for bed!

You may batter your way through the thick of the fray, You may sweat, you may swear, you may grunt; You may be a jack-fool, if you must, but this rule Should ever be kept at the front;-- Don't fight with your pillow, but lay down your head And kick every worriment out of the bed.

You may want to keep a commonplace book which is a notebook where you can copy parts of books you think are in code, or take notes on a series of events you may have observed that are suspicious, unfortunate, or very dull. Keep your commonplace book in a safe place, such as underneath your bed, or at a nearby dairy.

You must sleep sometime between lunch and dinner, and no halfway measures. Take off your clothes and get into bed. That's what I always do.

You naked in my bed is even more unbelievably beautiful than I thought it would be... and trust me I've thought about it. A lot.

You need to talk about sex with a sense of humor, especially because sex is a sensitive area for a lot of people. The other thing is that you may not want to tell the world everything you do in bed.

Young Reinette: Monsieur, be careful! The Doctor: It's just a nightmare, Reinette, don't worry, everyone has nightmares. Even monsters under the bed have nightmares! Young Reinette: What do monsters have nightmares about? The Doctor: Me!

You ought to be ironical the minute you get out of bed. You ought to wake up with your mouth full of pity.

Your best T-shirt should be like your bed, it just feels like you are home when you are in it.

You're like the devil with horns in your head, the only way I'll get you is to get you in bed.

Your English style will no doubt put all the other gentlemen to bed. I speak figuratively, of course.

You're sitting on my bed," he said. "Did yo think I was under it?

Your idea of fidelity is not having more than one man in bed at the same time.

You take off your clothes and you're in bed with somebody, and that is indeed where whatever you've concealed, your particularity, whatever it may be, however encrypted, is going to be found out, and that's what all the shyness is all about and what everybody fears.

You've made your bed, now go bounce on it.

Youth is not rich in time; it may be poor; Part with it as with money, sparing; pay No moment but in purchase of its worth, And what it's worth, ask death-beds; they can tell.

You thunder and lightning too much; the reader ceases to get under the bed, by and by.

Youth is the only sexy tragedy. It's James Dean jumping into his Porsche Spyder, it's Marilyn heading off to bed.

zoegirl: have u named the chicks? SnowAngel:yes, but i keep getting them mixed up. so now i call all of them "squishy." they're the collective squishy. zoegirl: *r* they squishy? SnowAngel: when you squeeze them,yes. but not in a yucky way. SnowAngel: they're growing on me, the little squishies. altho 1 of them pooped on my pillow. zoegirl: u let them on your bed? SnowAngel: they like it when i bounce them.

You will not be carried to Heaven lying at ease upon a feather bed.

You…you got rid of that dress fast," I pointed out between heavy breaths. "I thought you liked it." "I do like it," he said. His breathing was as heavy as mine. "I love it." And then he took me to the bed.

American women rock on both fields: bed and on the green grass.

A man is not for you when all he knows is to slam your back on the bed and ram into you like a wild fool. The interested ones are the ones so interested that they become very interested in only interesting things about you.

A man's love for a woman is not defined by his availability in bed, but by every ingredient he adds to improve the taste of the relationship.

And every night lying there in my bed I think about her.

And... a bed. A bed and a blanket to cover them, a blanket that was theirs together.

... and it was quite a sad thing, the way I watched you sleep like nothing could go wrong and I did not want to harm it, I did not want to blur it, but how could I not when everything I’ve ever known has slowly gone away and I know by now that that’s the way you let the new day in with new roads and views and chances to grow but it was quite a sad thing because I don’t want this to ever become ’then’ or ’was’ and it was quite an unfamiliar thing. The way I took off my shoes again, put down my bag and quietly went back to bed, slowly between the sheets of moments I don’t want to leave and it was quite a beautiful thing the way you had no idea but still must have known because you did not even open your eyes, but turned around and took my hand and you were still asleep, breathing in and out like nothing could go wrong, but still held my hand like you were glad I didn’t leave. ’Thank you for staying’ and it was quite a wonderful thing, the way I smiled and so did you, sound asleep, and that’s all I need to know for now. That’s all I want to know for now.

A spouse who refuses to cultivate or fan physical intimacy first devalued the marriage in their mind and priorities. Spouses who defile their marriage bed first lost honor for their marriage.

As I lay in bed trying to figure out the tangle I had gotten myself into, I realised temptation struck human beings in different forms. In the form of chocolates for children, drugs for young adults, bribe money for people in influential positions, and sometimes in the form of lust –like the kind I had been struck with. Human beings succumbed to this temptation despite knowing too well that they would suffer the consequences days, weeks, months or even years later.

Bed is my friend. Just bed, he thought. Bed will be a great thing. It is easy when you are beaten, he thought.

Autumn rolls against us― outside the morning chorus― you roll over― held in ivory sheets― looking― dawning tenderness in sleepy auroras sermon― animation paved the simplest rule― along those stationary moments― and I fell for you in those words― it's so hard to get out of bed with you there―

A successful person's life is made up of a time when he gets out of bed, and a time he goes to bed; and in-between them is filled up with a time that he makes sure something definitely happened!

[...] a życie to tylko tarzanie się między łóżkiem a trumną [...]

Bed and laziness are good friends, they often like to hang out late at noon.

CHANGE is not to expect, it is certain -have Food and go to Bed

Besides what endless brawls by wives are bred, The curtain lecture makes a mournful bed.

Breakfast! My favorite meal- and you can be so creative. I think of bowls of sparkling berries and fresh cream, baskets of Popovers and freshly squeezed orange juice, thick country bacon, hot maple syrup, panckes and French toast - even the nutty flavor of Irish oatmeal with brown sugar and cream. Breaksfast is the place I splurge with calories, then I spend the rest of the day getting them off! I love to use my prettiest table settings - crocheted placemats with lace-edged napkins and old hammered silver. And whether you are inside in front of a fire, candles burning brightly on a wintery day - or outside on a patio enjoying the morning sun - whether you are having a group of friends and family, a quiet little brunch for two, or an even quieter little brunch just for yourself, breakfast can set the mood and pace of the whole day. And Sunday is my day. Sometimes I think we get caught up in the hectic happenings of the weeks and months and we forget to take time out to relax. So one Sunday morning I decided to do things differently - now it's gotten to be a sort of ritual! This is what I do: at around 8:30 am I pull myself from my warm cocoon, fluff up the pillows and blankets and put some classical music on the stereo. Then I'm off to the kitchen, where I very calmly (so as not to wake myself up too much!) prepare my breakfast, seomthing extra nice - last week I had fresh pineapple slices wrapped in bacon and broiled, a warm croissant, hot chocolate with marshmallows and orange juice. I put it all on a tray with a cloth napkin, my book-of-the-moment and the "Travel" section of the Boston Globe and take it back to bed with me. There I spend the next two hours reading, eating and dreaming while the snowflakes swirl through the treetops outside my bedroom window. The inspiring music of Back or Vivaldi adds an exquisite elegance to the otherwise unruly scene, and I am in heaven. I found time to get in touch with myself and my life and i think this just might be a necessity! Please try it for yourself, and someone you love.

Childish certainty that nothing could get him while under the covers wasn't much comfort, but it was a start.

Claire fell asleep on the couch with her head in Shane's lap as he and Michael and Eve kept talking, and talking, and talking. It was three a.m. when she woke up; Shane hadn't moved, but she was covered with a blanket, and he was sound asleep, sitting straight up. Claire yawned, groaned at sore muscles, and rolled to her feet. "Shane. Up. You need to go to bed." He woke up cute, softened by sleep. "Come with?" He was only half joking. She remembered being curled up with him in her bed, the night she'd been so scared; he'd been careful then, but she wasn't sure she could count on that kind of self-restraint at three a.m., when he was half-asleep. "I can't," she said reluctantly. "Not that I don't want to ..." He smiled and stretched out on his side on the couch, leaving a narrow space between his warm, solid body and the cushions. "Stay," he said. "I promise, no clothes will come off. Well, maybe shoes. Do shoes count as clothes?" She kicked hers off and climbed over him to slip into that small pocket, and sighed in relief as his body pressed against hers. She didn't even need the blanket, but he put it over the two of them anyway, and then combed her hair back from her neck and kissed her on the soft, vulnerable skin.

Creativity is when a stupid clever soul gets up from bed and does amazing things that makes the world think he is wise.

DICK’S DESIRE Dick's eyes- Soft, cold, and blue- Meet Devonshire's- Dark, sexy, and yearning. Turning away- Dick grabs two packets of sugar- While Devonshire's eyes- Are still upon him- Pondering his every move. Is Dick a playboy, A ladies' man, A mans' man, Or a killer? Does his sex long for, Something hard- Or something soft? Does he need cream in his coffee- The screaming splash of a man, Or the sweet flow of a woman? Finishing up at the bar- Dick turns to leave- Meets Devonshire's gaze again- Hot, thirsty, and longing- But full of trepidation. Following the flow of etiquette- Dick shoots out of the cafe, Past Devonshire, And into a world of dashed hopes, And regrets. But Devonshire- No longer of two worlds- Rises in pursuit- Goes after Dick, And taps him on the shoulder. Dick gives a turn, Raises his shoulders, And smiles with interest- Taking Devonshire's hand, And asking his name. Devonshire answers- Desire. Dick invites Devonshire to dinner, Where he eats everything, Swallowing Dick's life stories, And devouring his misgivings. For dessert, Devonshire takes Dick home, Into his bed, Against his flesh, And gives Dick all of him- His deepest desires, The love in his eyes, And the fire in his soul.

Do you know how marriage was defined in ancient Greece? Noel said in a calmer tone. Its really simple. A virgin goes to mans house with the family gathered as witnesses. The virgin and the man share a fire, a meal, and a bed. If the girl wasn't a virgin in the morning, then the couple was considered married. That's it

For Liesel Meminger, the early stages of 1942 could be summed up like this: She became thirteen years of age. Her chest was still flat. She had not yet bled. The young man from her basement was now in her bed. ***Q&A*** How did Max Vandenburg end up in liesel's bed? He fell.

Go to bed! Someone is anxious to come into your dream.