Quotes About Soft

In my head I hear a whisper, or rather the memory of a whisper. The familiar voice is soft, and it warms me from the inside out as it murmurs a name: Charlotte.

My clients don't pay me to feel sorry; they pay me to bring them money. I am tough, but I have a soft side.

I'm from the punk generation, but I make romantic, soft soul music. I like the bizarre disconnect of that but, clearly, some people don't.

The spaces I want to be in are nurturing and soft and saturated with color. Our cities don't have enough of that, and as humans we need it.

Orange?" He seems unconvinced."Not bright orange. But soft. Like the sunset, " I say. "At least, that's what you told me once.

...I hardly ever see your profile, but have I told you it's beautiful? - like the soft gentle lines of snow...

His love was a poison: soft and loveable, hideous yet touchable.

I had a dream about you. I opened your chest like a cabinet, it had doors, and when I opened the doors, I saw all kinds of soft things inside you--teddy bears, tiny fuzzy animals, all these soft, cuddly things.

The whole college scene was soft. They never told you what to expect out there in the real world. They just crammed you with theory and never told you hard the pavements were. A college education could destroy an individual for life. Books could make you soft. When you put them down, and really went out there, then you needed to know what they never told you.

You skin is so soft. Smells like…" She had to tilt him to get this other arm free and hated knowing how badly she was hurting him as she did so. "Sheer, unadulterated fear?

Our weather is soft, mostly, with peculiar light.

If I did I didn't know it. What's it like, velvet?' 'Well, Lu, velvet is like the world was just born. Clean and new and so smooth.

The face a smooth oval, unlined, serene, but a soft full mouth, tucked firmly in at the corners as though her sense of the ridiculous had survived years of relentless theology. Charming.

The problem with a lot of people is that what they think is a virtue is actually a vice in disguise. It's much easier to convince yourself that you're reasonable and civilised, than soft and weak, isn't it?

She narrowed her eyes. "What is our heart's desire?" "Vengeance." His voice was soft, as if he were afraid that someone might be listening. "Justice." Prince Doran pressed the onyx dragon into her palm with his swollen, gouty fingers, and whispered, "Fire and blood.

His cloak was his crowning glory; sable, thick and black and soft as sin.

If it's softer than the ground and has a roof over it, I call it a bed. Dolorous Edd sniffed the air. I smell dung.

She narrowed her eyes. "What is our heart's desire?" "Vengeance." His voice was soft, as if he were afraid that someone might be listening.

A woman that's too soft and sweet is like tapioca pudding-fine for them as likes it.

As the Brotherhood got down to business, he found himself putting his hand on the dog's big head and stroking the soft fur…playing with an ear…dipping down and finding the long waves that flowed from the animal's broad, strong chest. Not that any of that meant he was keeping the the animal, of course. It just felt nice, was all.

Then again, he supposed the healing process, in contrast to trauma, was gentle and slow... The soft closing of a door, rather than a slam.- John

The collision was impending and electric, but the moment was soft and sweet: She positively glowed as she looked up at him. What, she whispered, palming his face. Vin took a moment to memorize her features and the way she felt beneath him, seeing her not just through his eyes, but feeling her with his skin and his heart. Hello, lovely lady...hello.

The kindness she'd offered had been as warm and soft as skin, as soothing as calm water, as sustaining as the sunlight he no longer knew.

And what does the rain say at night in a small town, what does the rain have to say? Who walks beneath dripping melancholy branches listening to the rain? Who is there in the rain's million-needled blurring splash, listening to the grave music of the rain at night, September rain, September rain, so dark and soft? Who is there listening to steady level roaring rain all around, brooding and listening and waiting, in the rain-washed, rain-twinkled dark of night?