Quotes About Lips

And then, just at that moment, when I'm no longer sure if I'm dreaming or awake or walking some valley in between where everything you wish for comes true, I feel the flutter of his lips on mine.

Stop. Talking."Her whisper was muffled against his lips, and his answering chuckle was muffled by hers."What would you have me do instead?""For starters? Put your mouth to better use.

Lips to lips, mouth to mouth, Comes the speaker of the shrouds, Suck in the spirit, speak the words, Let secrets of the dead be heard.

Lips to lips, mouth to mouth, Comes the speaker of the shrouds. Suck in the spirit, speak the words, Let secrets of the dead be heard. The

I looked silently at her lips. All women are lips, all lips. Some are pink and firmly round: a ring, a tender guardrail from the whole world. And then there are these ones: a second ago they weren't here, and just now — like a knife-slit — they are here, still dripping sweet blood.

I looked silently at her lips. All women are lips, nothing but lips. Some are pink, supple, round-a right, a tender shield against the whole world. And then these: A second ago they didn't exist, and now suddenly, made by a knife, the sweet blood still dripping...

All women are lips, nothing but lips. Some pink, firmly round---a ring, a tender protection against the whole world. But these: a second ago they did not exist, and now--a knife slit--and the sweet blood will drip down.

The auditorium: an enormous half-globe of glass with the sun piercing through. The circular rows of noble, globe-like, closely shaven heads. With joy in my heart I looked around. I believe I was looking in the hope of seeing the rose-colored scythe, the dear lips of O- somewhere among the blue waves of the unifs. Then I saw extraordinarily white, sharp teeth like the … But no! Tonight at twenty-one o'clock O- was to come to me; therefore my desire to see her was quite natural.

Not all the pride of beauty; Those eyes, that tell us what the sun is made of; Those lips, whose touch is to be bought with life; Those hills of driven snow, which seen are felt: All these possessed are nought, but as they are The proof, the substance of an inward passion, And the rich plunder of a taken heart.

All women are lips, nothing but lips.

Time has shattered, it's cracked like my lips.

Time has shattered, it's cracking like my lips.

The LORD shall cut off all flattering lips…" (PSALM 12:3 KJV). Is flattery worth being cut off from the blessings of God?

I think we'd better go." Her breath fluttered the folds along the front of her bodice. A subtle scent of summer berries teased his nose. "Aren't you the least bit curious?" "Yes," she whispered. Bending his elbows, he leaned down. She placed her fingers against his lips. "I think we'd better go." Stopping his descent, he took the end of her finger into his mouth and grazed it with his teeth, then kissed it.

A slow smile lifted one corner of his lips. "You're not married, are you?" "Mr. Scott, you need to be paying attention to my instructions. They are very important." "Hunter. My name's Hunter.

She traced the shape of those lips. They were damp and plush and too far away. "You have really nice lips. I missed them." One side of them kicked up, his eyes opening. "Is that all you missed?" She couldn't count on both hands everything she'd missed about Beau. About the Callahans, about Summer Harbor.

She's not… She's not datin' the skeleton, is she? How would that be even possible, let alone… nice? He's got no skin, or lips, or… or nothin'.

She's not... She's not dating the skeleton, is she? How would that even be possible, let alone... nice? He's got no skin, or lips, or... or nothin'. And he talks. Good God, he talks and he never shuts up." - Billy-Ray

If your life does not worship God, your lips do not worship God either.

Come slowly, Eden! Lips unused to thee, Bashful, sip thy jasmines, As the fainting bee, Reaching late his flower, Round her chamber hums, Counts his nectars—enters, And is lost in balms!

Her coral liptint was faintly luminous; when she pressed her lips together, they made a glowing rosebud in her face.

I ... take a selfie with him; two, to be safe. My lips are parted, as if I'm poking a dead thing to see if it'll come to life; it's the phone I'm attempting to keep at a distance. He's smiling faintly, as if amuse by some exotic piece of wildlife.

Imagine a pleasure in which the moment of satisfaction is simultaneous with the moment of destruction: to kiss is to poison; lifting to your lips this face after which you have ached, dreamed, longed for, the face shatters, every time.

I'm super weird about my lips. I actually don't let makeup artists do my lipstick. I know my own lip line. I feel, even, they go too much over my lip line or too much under my lip line, and I don't want my lips to look strange on camera. I'm very particular about my lips.