Quotes About Lips

And then he kisses me. Yes, the beautiful vampire, the dark general, the one who never gets close to anyone, leans in and presses his lips against mine. This kiss is soft. Gentle. Light. Like a butterfly's wing whisking my lips.

Me gustan sus labios, quiero decir el gusto, el modo como se hunden, como se entreabren, como se escapan. Naturalmente, no es la primera vez que besa. ¿Y eso qué? Después de todo es un alivio volver a besar en la boca y con confianza y con cariño

My friend "M" says the irony of being a zombie is that everything is funny, but you can't smile, because your lips have rotted off.

Bergé's yelling had attracted the attention of everyone in the Kibati hall: champagne flutes stopped halfway to heavily painted lips, eyes widened, massive diamonds groaned scornfully in their settings. It was a stationary riot.

I leaped and lost my footing, crashing head over heels through the tree. The next thing I remember was looking up into Adam's deep brown, gold-flecked eyes and hearing, 'Breath, dammit, breathe.' He inhaled and then pressed his lips to mine.

Her love was trembling in laughter on her lips.

My eyes are tempted by the smile of an angel, and your lips whisper secrets of forbidden love.

A smile teased at his lips, but he fought it. "Can you come over here and sit down please? I'd like to ask you a few questions." He made his way to the table and sat. Her eyes were mighty wary, but she clomped right over to him in her boots. She pulled the chair a nice, safe distance away from him, then flipped the chair around and straddled it, deliberately behaving in the least ladylike way she could manage. "All right. Let's talk.

I stopped and stared at Rafe. Inspected him. His shoulders. His wind-tosses hair. The rigid line of his jaw. The redness of the blood trickling down his cheek. His half-parted lips. I swallowed to quell the tremor in my throat. "I should like to inspect you...before our wedding day.

Sus labios revoloteaban como un copo de nieve. El segundo copo de nieve perdido en una playa de verano, y yo que trataba de recuperarlo con mi nevera demasiado grande. A partir de dos copos de ese tipo, puede hablarse de tempestad.

Order! As happens with all political blunderers, the word was ceaselessly upon his lips, and nothing could have persuaded him to admit that the world had changed even a little in the last century.

De ta petite oreille j'oublie les longs secrets, ton sourire d'enfantelet, l'éphémère qu'on ose pas baiser, tes paupières aveuglées par mes lèvres, sources claires du destin, froides, chaudes comme la lune en juin.

James had eyes of summer-sky blue, ringed with deep navy. The contrast could be startling. The dark fringe of his lashes swept down as his eyes narrowed. He licked his lips.

Damn, Gabriel. I didn't touch her." "Your lips were on hers. That's touching," Gabriel growled. [...] "I am the Gabriel. I run this pack, and if any of them" –he looked past her to the Hound on the floor– "want to challenge me over you,all they need to is say the word." The Hound on the floor spoke up. "I turned her down." "Not because she lacks anything," Gabriel growled.

allegation[s] of flirting dripping from his lips like drops from a leaky faucet.

his lips were pure temptation, soft, bitable, sensual in a way only a man's mouth could be.

Look," she said, making the conscious decision to wrench herself back before her frustrated wolf took control and she found herself feasting on male lips currently thin with anger, "it's nothing personal. I'm generally a bitch.

The mirror showed a face with wild eyes and skinned-back lips, the face of a fox gone mad.

Her lips were red. Not the garish painted red so many women believe makes them desirable. Her lips were always red, morning and night. As if minutes before you saw her, she had been eating sweet berries, or drinking heart's blood.

Channeling is just bad ventriloquism. You use another voice, but people can see your lips moving.

If we reason we would be understood; if we imagine we would that the airy children of our brain were born anew within another's; if we feel we would that another's nerves should vibrate to our own, that the beams of their eyes should kindle at once and mix and melt into our own; that lips of motionless ice should not reply to lips quivering and burning with the heart's best blood. This is love.

How wonderful is Death, Death, and his brother Sleep! One, pale as yonder waning moon With lips of lurid blue; The other, rosy as the morn When throned on ocean's wave It blushes o'er the world; Yet both so passing wonderful!

silent those sweet lips, Once breathing eloquence That might have soothed a tiger's rage Or thawed the cold heart of a conqueror.

You are the most handsome of men; grace has anointed your lips, since God has blessed you forever.