Quotes About Tension

he stretched out beside her, uncomfortably close, as if they were lovers. Real lovers and not the most mismatched pair of fuck buddies ever.

He sobered as he gazed at her, then took a deep breath and pulled away. "I'm not normally affected like this. It's you. You're putting off some hellacious fuck-me vibes." "Not enough, apparently," she muttered.

War is hell." —William Tecumseh Sherman "Sherman was totally my bitch." —War

He moved toward Jedda, his pulse inexplicably growing faster as he neared her. He'd been in the presence of blindingly gorgeous females with unimaginable power in his centuries of life, and none of them had affected him like this. No, this was different, a mix of attraction and anticipation he would almost compare to battle lust.

Weapons by themselves don't provoke

The First Plot Point of your story is when the story's primary tension—its antagonistic force—makes its initial full frontal appearance in a form that imparts meaning and consequence to the story's hero, and in context to stakes you have already established

We ain't having no more futile wars. Till we have one in the Middle East.

One thing I have learned is, if people tell you they had a "frank" discussion with someone, it is usually code for a yelling match with clenched fists.

Halfway around the world, Marines were walking into an ambush, in a firefight, or fighting hand-to-hand in a desperate life-and-death struggle. Here we were, laughing and drinking as if none of that was happening, but I knew it was, and I knew what it felt like. I felt ashamed!

For two hundred and fifty years the kzinti had not attacked human space. They had nothing to attack with. For two hundred and fifty years men had not attacked the kzinti worlds; and no kzin could understand it. Men confused them terribly.

There is nothing like the occasional outburst of profanity to calm jangled nerves.

mobs were the worst of our guts strangling our hearts.

If there's a lot of tension and distance at your house, you might ask yourself if there's something you've done that's disrespectful. If so, you have the opportunity to apologize and restore the intimacy. When the intimacy in your relationship is gone, it's almost always an indication that the respect is missing too. You might be surprised at how quickly you can get both back with a simple apology.

And he made her a lot of things but not uncomfortable. Nervous, maybe. Lustful, yes. Sometimes even a little stupid. But not uncomfortable.

She looked around her apartment which seemed to be waiting for something. Lana hated that, when the room was a pregnant pause.

But, perhaps, I should have known then, I should have known that night, standing in the kitchen, that foul meat in the air- looking back on it now, I see that it was the end and the beginning of something more than dinner. More than ruined appetite, a postponed meal, a marriage strained, a freezer unplugged. I could smell the death between them.

A man holding a woman made of bad moods in his arms.

Being a mother was like being trapped in the first fifteen minutes of a horror film. Everything was fine, lovely. But there was this persistent sense of dread.

porque nada enardece más al intranquilo que le digan tranquilízate, nada lo preocupa tanto como que lo inviten a despreocuparse, nada contraría tanto sus impulsos de vuelo como los aterrizados oficios de un samaritano.

We can see the tension here. The anticipating self gets to don the identity of "cool mom who is going to take her kids ice skating." The remembering self gets to enjoy the memory. It is the experiencing self who actually has to get up off the couch, get misdirected by her GPS to the bus circle above the rink parking lot, and fumble with the change machine to score quarters for her shoe locker rental. This can seem like an unfair division of labor.

He was watching her,his eyes heavy lidded and filled with ire."The man in the bathroom wants to fuck you.Did you know that?" Yes,she knew.

between the two men, as if they

Why is he following me? Why are you following me?" He grabbed her arm. "D'Sayre is trying to learn your secrets. Me? I just want a kiss." He pulled her into his embrace and pressed his lips to hers.

I turned away from her again. "I hate you," I whispered. "I hate you.