Quotes About Throat

As Reagan gingerly sipped from the steaming mug he explained that for years he'd sipped on very hot water before major appearances because it relaxed his throat and lowered his voice a couple of octaves. "Frank Sinatra told me about it. He swore that it helped him get through many long performances.

They say it grows so cold up here in winter that a man's laughter freezes in his throat and chokes him to death.

They say it grows so cold up here in winter that a man's laughter freezes in his throat and chokes him to death," Ned said evenly. "Perhaps that is why the Starks have so little humor.

Sansa felt as though she were in a dream. "Joffrey is dead," she told the trees, to see if that would wake her. He had not been dead when she left the throne room. He had been on his knees, though, clawing at his throat, tearing at his own skin as he fought to breathe. The

I realize that lust stands high in the list of deadly sins. And yet lust - the tightening of the throat, the flushed cheeks, the raging appetite - is the only word accurate to describe the sensation I felt that morning, as the painted door closed and I was left with the liberty of all those books.

He was the mildest manner'd man That ever scuttled ship or cut a throat.

At least this time, with this murder, she knew he had an alibi. At the time Cicely Towers was having her throat slashed, Roarke had been fucking the hell out of the investigating officer.

Peabody, are you wearing a cross? What? Me? Her cheeks went pink as she clear her throat. It just happened that I know Mariella in Records, who just happened to have one, and I happened to borrow it. Just for backup. I see. And would you also be carrying a pointy stick? Not unless you mean McNab. Eve stopped at a light and turned around in her seat. Repeat after me: Vampires do not exist. Vampires do not exist, Peabody recited.

The blood of life is leaving his body and despair is taking its place, despair that is like a gas, odourless, tasteless, without nourishment. You breathe it in, your limbs relax, you cease to care, even at the moment when the steel touches your throat.

God, he looked fantastic in the suit. And the open collar of his shirt showed off his throat, the black silk making his skin look tanned. Too bad he was flat-out pissed. His face was as harsh as his temper, and with his hair pulled back, the aggressive thrust of his jaw was even more prominent. Something had set him off. Big-time. Perfect date material, she thought. A vampire with the social equivalent of road rage.

His wedding gift, clasped round my throat. A choker of rubies, two inches wide, like an extraordinarily precious slit throat.

When the girl at the squat got her throat slit, and Jacob got marked, Nix had been in Portland a little under a year. He had just bought a SpongeBob sleeping bag from Goodwill and had started to feel something like safe. But then, a roll or two of dust every other week helped with that.

Temptation is like a knife, that may either cut the meat or the throat of a man; it may be his food or his poison, his exercise or his destruction

his whimper dying in his throat. There had been a flash of white moonlight reflecting off pale skin, and when the second one passed, he clapped his hand over his mouth to stifle his cry of terror at what he saw. The

I feel it deeper than I feel anything else. So deep it's fucking terrifying. I'm never going to be good at saying the words. They get stuck in my throat. It's like if I say it out loud something bad is going to happen. I feel as if I'm cursing us. Everyone they knew we cared about died.

I may be small, but Im not a child to be afraid of a pretended demon speaking in tongues. Im a lapsed Christian and a pagan of convenience. The worst I can do on my conscience is cut your throat and ask the forest to count it as a sacrifice come the Yule, so cease your nonsense and tell me how you know my name.

throat and eyes and made her cough constantly.

I'd rather cut my throat," she said. An intriguing thought. But I can do it so much more enjoyably.

Her voice would die before she ran out of rage. She could scream a hole in her throat and come unraveled, fall to pieces like moth-chewed silk, and still, from the leftover shreds of her, the little pile of tatters, would pour forth this unending scream.

Her throat wanted to scream. Her soul wanted it, too. She fought against it as though there were demons in her trying to claw their way out and ravage the world.

You're killing me because you want me to give a message to God for you?" Jace shook his head, the point of the blade scraping across his throat. "You're crazier than I thought

I could still see the expression on that woman's face, the naked fear in her eyes, could see and hear the pulse pounding at her throat. It made my mouth water.

Great men should drink with harness on their throats.

Ask me no more whither doth hasteThe nightingale when May is past;For in your sweet dividing throatShe winters and keeps warm her note.