Quotes About Temptation

He watched her through narrowed eyes. Maybe he wasn't as stupid as she'd thought. He was good-looking, though . . . chin-length brown hair, full lips, five-o'clock shadow. Maybe she'd do him while she fed from him. Shade wasn't always available for a rendezvous in the hospital's supply closet, and Wraith acted as if she had a disease

There's very little that frightens me more than the Grim Reaper when he's horny.

For he knew there was a pit of sexuality out there and that he longed to throw himself into it.

Dangerous, free time on your hands. You can only jerk off so often.

I must confess something to you." "Confess." "I must confess to you that I've read they go and do it in the bushes and on islands and, would you believe, inside of trucks.

A man who wouldn't cheat for a poke don't want one bad enough. --Augustus "Gus" McCrae

But there is something worse than settling for mediocrity. It's exclusivity. It's the temptation to up the ante and to raise the bar of discipleship so high that it disqualifies all but the most committed, and thus thins the herd that Jesus came to expand.

The third kind of soil was weed infested, resulting in a crop that once again looked good for a while but eventually was choked off by what Jesus called the deceitfulness of riches and the desire for other things.

I was told to stay away from pasta and bread for two weeks. Not eating pasta? That'll kill me. Anything else, but why pasta?

Haz caso al diablo y te recompensará con el infierno

She'd envisioned her next meeting with him countless times, and every vision was the same: Alex would be somewhere—preferably at a bar surrounded by men—looking sexy, but uninterested. Troy would be there, too, looking tortured and desperate to win her back.

Whoever fights monsters should see to it that in the process he does not become a monster. And when you look long into an abyss, the abyss also looks into you. When

When you bite into a chocolate truffle, you don't want to find oat bran.

July, that lovely hell, all velvet dresses and drapes stuffed into a hot little hole.

But no monk am I in my head, God grant me pardon," he whispered. His body drew closer, velvet and taut elegance. "My confessor has chastised me oft, and bade me study on my sins at length. And so, lady"--he kissed her, the hunger in it sinking down through her like a comet falling--"I have studied.

I want to see your stockings," he growled. "The plain white ones." Her lips parted, as if to make a refusal, and then she blinked. Her puzzled look only made her more adorable to him. "Yes, I was driven demented in your closet." He bent down to kiss her. "I'm passionately in love with your hosiery.

She had thought Raymond handsome. But the Raven was something beyond handsome. Beyond gallant manners and teasing glances. He was like the old, old stories, like the unknown man who waited on a darkened hill, the mist around him, hand outstretched ... In the stories, if a woman went to him... she did not return. But she wanted to go ... She wanted.

He walked to Brooks's, intending to drink a glass of port, eat a joint of beef, and read the Times. But even at his club, surrounded by all the trappings of the honorable British gentleman, he still longed for the forbidden fruit; he still hungered for the hot, sweet kisses of an Italian girl.

Being good all the time was a bad bargain.

You're killing me," he told her, panting, his palms sliding down over her ribs to explore the rest of her shape—her waist, her hips, her thighs. "Killing me by inches." He lifted his body from hers enough to yank up her skirt. "But it's a damn fine way for a man to die.

Goldenberg Peanut Chew for lunch, or a bag of Utz crab chips.

It's at your most lunatic moments that I can resist you least.

Desire acts as a honey trap to the unwary male, luring him into unworthy and catastrophic enterprises. The beauty of the Narnian witches isn't ancillary to their evil, but integral to it, one of the weapons in their arsenal. Evil must, after all, appear attractive if it's going to be tempting, and from there it's only a small step further to the conclusion that feminine beauty is inherently wicked.

He walked over to his place, the center of a U-shaped configuration of tables, and set his papers down, pretending to consult them. Instead, he inspected Lily covertly, hoping to detect a weakness, some tiny chink in her armor. Damn her for being more beautiful than ever, he thought. A single glance and he began wanting things he knew were impossible.