Quotes About Wet

sometimes i get up at dawn, and even my soul is wet.

El agua anda descalza por las calles mojadas.

I lived for those long casual walks down the beach and the sight of her small footprints in the glistening wet sand...

He who would change the future course of the river must be prepared to get his hands wet in the waters of the past. —"On the Way of Water," from the journal of Hayden Stone

I don't own a blowdryer - I don't know how to use it. Most mornings, I walk to work with my hair wet.

Quickly, bring me a beaker of wine, so that I may wet my mind and say something clever. —Aristophanes, Greek comic poet (c. 450-385 BCE)

a greyish substance that might be blood. Remembering the spray I caught earlier, I wipe a hand across my face and it comes away wet and sticky with the same grey liquid. "I'd kill for a shower," I mutter, chuckling darkly at the sick joke. Juni cuts a long, jagged line through the creature's flesh

Hoy en día, el doctor Hartmann cree que el mejor consejo para la prevención de lesiones es el que escuchó de boca de un entrenador que recomendaba «correr descalzo sobre césped húmedo tres veces a la semana». No

To say it was a dark and stormy night would be a gross understatement. It was colder than witch's kiss, wetter than a spring swamp, and blacker than a tax collector's heart. A sane man would have been curled up in front of a fire with a cup of mulled wine and a good boo-, ah, a willing wench.

She loves the serene brutality of the ocean, loves the electric power she felt with each breath of wet, briny air.

I grab a chair. "I don't mean to pry," I say, "but we're in a hospital. You sure you're fine?" She sighs heavily. "No getting anything past you, huh?" "I also often notice when water is wet. I have a keen detective's mind like that.

CALL REMOVED A small circle of oily pepperoni from his slice of pizza and slid his hand under the table. Immediately, he felt a wash of Havoc's wet tongue as the Chaos-ridden wolf inhaled the food.

The rug was turning red. --- The smell of fresh blood was heavy in the air, like wet, hot metal. Like those scrubbing pads Mom used to clean the frying pans when stuff was really stuck on.

She was giddy with night air, burning like the white-hot moon. Everything smelled wet and feral like it did before a thunderstorm, and she wanted to run, swift and eager, beyond the edge of what she could see.

once stood, and Erika's memories were dissolving, disappearing, being washed away like a chalk drawing on pavement in the rain, and all she felt right now was cold and wet and foolish. 57

You return when you feel like it, like rain. And like rain you are tender, with the rain's inept tenderness. A passion so general I could be anywhere. You carry me out into the wet air. You lay me down on the leaves and the strong thing is not the sex, But waking up alone under the tress after.

Hardly have we begun to palpate their grief than we find ourselves wondering whether this particular wound was mortal or not, or whether (in our blind doctoring) it's a wound at all. It might just as well be a mouth, which is as wet and as warm.

But many details were considered too small and mundane for the Centurions' purposes. They tapped the mud too briefly for things like new-fangled coffee-makers to matter. Instant coffee that tasted like a wet dream was apparently one of them.

This sloughing off and scouring down to the walls is about a denial that has little to do with doing without. It is not so much the forging of one's fleshly desires as much as a terrified repudiation of the essential nature of what we are: great sloshing, suppurating bags of wet, prone to rupture. Mortal messes just waiting to happen.

The house seems quite hopeful, and we are on the point of taking it for six months when it becomes known that Tim is an officer in His Majesty's Army. This immediately precludes any possibility of the house being let to us, and we are shown out of the door with all possible dispatch. I am too cold and wet to be really angry, but Tim is boiling with rage. Conversation too lurid to record.

You'll get wet," Daisy protested, glancing at his shirtsleeves and waistcoat. He began to laugh. "I'm not made of sugar." "Neither am I." "Yes you are," he murmured, making her blush. He smiled at the sight of her face peeking out from the folds of her coat, like a little owl in the woods.

The screens sway inward as the attic fan rattles overhead, pulling at wet air that has no desire to be moved.

It would have been more sensible if I had gone for help, Felicity thought, feeling his arm like an iron yoke across her shoulders, and a chill seeping out from his wet clothes into her side.

Hurricane will be 'tremendously big and tremendously wet.