Quotes About Kisses

This vanity had increased with years and assumed a very dangerous form. He became indiscreet, and, more disastrous still, he told lies! The very dead—the honored and irreproachable dead—were not even safe in their graves. It was his revenge for unforgotten slights. He who kisses and tells, he who tells even though he has not kissed—what can be said for him, what should be done to him?

Roman blinked again and smacked Aspid's nose with his hand. "What did I say about kisses? No kisses unless invited." Aspid's tongue contracted. He pulled Roman into his mouth. I sprinted. "Yes, I love you, too," Roman said from inside the forest of teeth. "I need to go now. Come on." The dragon opened his mouth and put Roman back into the mud.

La signora Angellier suonò. La cuoca si affrettò a chiudere le imposte e le finestre, e il buio escluse tutto: i canti, il suono dei baci, il dolce splendore delle stelle, il passo dei vincitori sul selciato , e il verso del rospo assetato che, inappagato, chiedeva acqua al cielo.

While the light remains,' said Carde, speaking slowly in his high deliberate voice, 'only do not forsake the joy of life. If you shall have given all your kisses, you will give too few. And as leaves fall from withered wreaths which you may see spread upon the cups and floating there, so for us, who now as lovers hope for so much, perhaps tomorrow's day will close the doom.

O friends, I pray tonight, Keep not your kisses for my dead cold brow. The way is lonely; let me feel them now. Think gently of me; I am travel-worn, My faltering feet are pierced with many a thorn. Forgive! O hearts estranged, forgive, I plead! When ceaseless bliss is mine I shall not need The tenderness for which I long tonight.

My childhood memories are filled with hugs and kisses from both my mum and dad. My mum has a thing about kissing you an odd number of times: if she kisses you once, all good, but if she kisses you twice, then you know another one has to follow and, weirdly, she tends to go for the forehead.

Their kisses had gone on and on—cheeks, neck, mouth, and tongue. Seconds . . . minutes . . . hours. Then they'd start all over again. Adults were too fixed on the final goal to take that kind of time. Only teenagers afraid of the next step exchanged kisses that lasted forever.

Boy poison - a boy's kisses were like a poison, which infected you and after you were exposed you craved more, like an addict.

Sometimes when I'm alone, I take the pearl from where it lives in my pocket and try to remember the boy with the bread, the strong arms that warded off nightmares on the train, the kisses in the arena.

I roll my eyes. "So when did I become so special? When they carted me off to the Capitol?" "No, about six months before that. Right after New Year's. We were in the Hob, eating some slop of Greasy Sae's. And Darius was teasing you about trading a rabbit for one of his kisses. And I realized...I minded.

The sensation inside me grows warmer and spreads out from my chest down through my body out along my arms and legs to the tips of my being. Instead of satisfying me the kisses have the opposite effect of making my need greater.

I feel that thing again. The thing I only felt once before. In the cave last year, when I was trying to get Haymitch to send us food. I kissed Peeta about a thousand times during those Games and after. But there was only one kiss that made me feel something stir deep inside. Only one that made me want more. Instead of satisfying me, the kisses have the opposite effect, of making my need greater. I thought I was something of an expert on hunger, but this is an entirely new kind.

I can't help catching glimpses of us on the huge screens along the route, and we are not just beautiful, we are dark and powerful. No, more. We star-crossed lovers from District 12, who suffered so much and enjoyed so little the rewards of our victory, do not seek the fans' favor, grace them with our smiles, or catch their kisses. We are unforgiving. And I love it. Getting to be myself at last.

I'm light-headed with giddiness. What will I say? Oh, who cares what I say? Peeta will be ecstatic no matter what I do. He'll probably be kissing me anyway. I wonder if it will feel like those last kisses on the beach in the arena, the ones I haven't dared let myself consider until this moment.

These kisses hurt--not from roughness, but because she could feel all his pain.

When twilight sleeps holding the nightIn your arms you embrace me tightRunaway hours clenched by kisses More of your love my heart misses

Dreams are memories. Memories are dreams. But my time with you hasn't become a dream just yet. Because the sensation of your kisses keep me from sleep. I'm in love, God help me, I'm in love.

L'oubli puissant habite sur ta bouche, Et le Léthé coule dans tes baisers.

Softly as brown-eyed Angels rove I will return to thy alcove, And glide upon the night to thee, Treading the shadows silently. And I will give to thee, my own, Kisses as icy as the moon, And the caresses of a snake Cold gliding in the thorny brake. And when returns the livid morn Thou shalt find all my place forlorn And chilly, till the falling night. Others would rule by tenderness Over thy life and youthfulness, But I would conquer thee by fright!

Comme les anges à l'oeil fauve, Je reviendrai dans ton alcôve Et vers toi glisserai sans bruit Avec les ombres de la nuit; Et je te donnerai, ma brune, Des baisers froids comme la lune Et des caresses de serpent Autour d'une fosse rampant. Quand viendra le matin livide, Tu trouveras ma place vide, Où jusqu'au soir il fera froid. Comme d'autres par la tendresse, Sur ta vie et sur ta jeunesse, Moi, je veux régner par l'effroi.

Tu n'es pas digne qu'on t'enlève A ton esclavage maudit, Imbécile! – de son empire Si nos efforts te délivraient, Tes baiser ressusciteraient Le cadavre de ton vampire!

My kisses are as light as fairy midges That on calm evenings skim the crystal lake Those of your man would plough such ruts and ridges As lumbering carts or tearing coulters make

I will remember the kisses, our lips raw with love, and how you gave me everything you had and how I offered you what was left of me.

As the great German playwright Bertolt Brecht (1898–1956) put it, kisses leave no traces but wounds leave scars.