Quotes About Playfulness

Take me to bed. He grinned.Fuck you? She grinned back.Please.

Anita can speak for herself, Richard said. Jean-Claude's attention flicked back to me. That is certainly true. But I came to see how the two of you enjoyed the play. And pigs fly, I said. You don't believe me? Not hardly, I said.

You just wanted to walk in front of me so I'd have to stare at your butt

J.J kissed Jason and said, "I'm going to freshen up and change into something more comfortable." She walked toward the bathroom, big bag swinging at her side. I called after her, "Is it really more comfortable, or just the opposite?" She laughed. "You'll see soon enough." "Shit, that means I need lingerie too.

But you wouldn't be doing me; I don't bottom to anyone,' Nicky said. 'That works for me,' Dev said. I was no longer certain we were joking. Nicky grinned. 'If I come across for you then I'll have to fight off Jean-Claude and Asher. I think I'll stay on this side of the heteroflexible divide; it'll make things less complicated.

I dropped the towel to the floor and crawled into the warm nest of the covers and Nathaniel's body. 'You sure you don't need to sleep more than you need sex?' 'Sex energizes me; you should know that by now.' Nicky loomed over both of us, propped up on one shoulder. 'I vote you as an honorary lion.' 'High praise,' Nathaniel said.

Get here as soon as you can, and let me know which of the guys with you pissed you off and I'll help you play with him, between killing zombies." "You sweet-talking thing, you," he said. That made me laugh. We hung up with both of us laughing. There were so many reasons that Edward and I were friends.

For one moment we are not failed tests and broken condoms and cheating on essays; we are crayons and lunch boxes and swinging so high our sneakers punch holes in the clouds.

When we were girls we rode horses disguised as bicycles

For one moment we are not failed tests and broken condoms and cheating on essays; we are crayons and lunch boxes and swinging so high our sneakers punch holes in the clouds. For one breath everything feels better.

For one moment we are not failed tests and broken condoms and cheating on essays; we are crayons and lunch boxes and swinging so high our sneakers punch holes in the clouds. For one breath everything feels better. Then

Children show me in their playful smiles the divine in everyone.

..her smile, which was her pretty feature, was never so pretty as when her sprightly phrase had a scratch lurking in it.

The soul is healed by being with children.

I like that every page in every book can have a gem on it. It's probably what I love most about writing--that words can be used in a way that's like a child playing in a sandpit, rearranging things, swapping them around. They're the best moments in a day of writing -- when an image appears that you didn't know would be there when you started work in the morning.

Their childish high spirits succeeded entirely in diverting my thoughts from the subject that they usually circled, like bees buzzing around a darkly oozing honey-comb, and no sooner did I step into the open air and feel my muscles stretched to the full again in an improvised race with the young woman than I was the fit, carefree boy of the past once more.

Its particular interest for Ian, however, lay in its thesis about the history of the Dutch relationship to windmills, for it emphasized that these early industrial objects had originally been felt to have all the pylons' threateningly alien qualities, rather than the air of enchantment and playfulness now routinely associated with them. They had been denounced from pulpits and occasionally burnt to the ground by suspicious villagers.

Lighten up and do what makes you happy.

When you're young you have no worries, no drama, only your imagination. It's the best!

giggled in her high chair, occasionally taking a bite of the food in front of

P—Jamie!" I called. He waded back toward me. "I'm starting to think my name is Pajamie." "Your name should be Pajerky. You said it wasn't deep." "Pajerky?" He gave me a skeptical look. "That's Pathetic." "We'll see how smug you are once I'm on dry land.

Hey," he pulled away and put his hand on my face. "What are you thinking about?" "Your butt," I admitted.

He hesitated. "Nothing, man. What are you doing right now?" I looked down. "Petting my snake." Malcolm laughed. "With anyone else, that would be a metaphor. Good thing I can always count on you.

Babies laugh three thousand times a day. Adults twenty, if we're lucky.