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C Quotes

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All C Quotes

“Cup of Coffee (The Sonnet) A cup is just crockery till there is coffee in it. A head is just a skull till there's a mind in it. Clothes are just fabric till there's a character in 'em. Shoes are just footwear till there's a journey in 'em. Chest is just a bunch of bones till there's a heart in it. A body is just a bag of flesh till there's a being in it.”

“Cupid and my Campaspe play'd At cards for kisses - Cupid paid: He stakes his quiver, bow, and arrows, His mother's doves, and team of sparrows; Loses them too; then down he throws The coral of his lips, the rose Growing one's cheek (but none knows how); With these, the crystal of his brow, And then the dimple of his chin: All these did my Campaspe win. At last he set her both his eyes - She won, and Cupid blind did rise. O Love! has she done this for thee? What shall, alas! become of me?”

“Cupping her face, I reclaim her lips and gently guide her body next to mine on the bed. Rachel’s tank rides up and my fingers explore the satin skin of her belly. There are so many places I long to go, so many places I crave to take her. “I want to go further,” she whispers. When I skim the waistband of her pants, her breathing hitches. Further. Damn, my entire body responds. I don’t miss the way her hand fidgets with the hem of her shirt. Scared I’ll spook her, I don’t push her too far, but I’m all for reading body language. I place my hand over hers and her smile appears. “You sure?” I ask. I kiss each and every centimeter of her exposed skin as I move up her tank. I linger over the material of her bra and Rachel fists the sheet with both hands. She’s so damn hot I’m about to forget slow and go for fast. But I ignore those urges and guide the material up and over her head. I don’t know what the hell I did to have such a beautiful creature in my bed, but she’s here and I’m going to spend tonight worshipping this gift in front of me.”

“Cupping my cheeks, he exhaled a soft groan, and his lips scorched mine as he deepened the kiss until we both were breathless from its intensity. Daemon moved as close as he could with the chair between us. Gripping his arms, I held onto him, wanting him closer. The chair prevented all but our lips and hands from touching. Frustrating. Move, I ordered restlessly. It trembled under my foot, and then the heavy oak chair slid out from under me, dodging our leaning bodies. Unprepared for the sudden void, Daemon lurched forward, and I was unable to carry the unexpected weight. I collapsed backward, bringing Daemon along with me. The full contact of his body, flush against mine, sent my senses into chaotic overdrive. His tongue swept over mine as his fingers splayed across my cheeks. His hand slid down my side, gripping my hip as he urged me closer. The kisses slowed and his chest rose as he drank me in. With one last lingering exploration, he lifted his head and smiled down at me. My heart skipped a beat as he hovered over me with an expression that tugged deep in my chest. He moved his finger back up, along my cheek, trailing an invisible path to my chin. "I didn't move that chair, Kitten." "I know." "I'm assuming you didn't like where it was?" "It was in your way," I said. My hands were still curled around his arms. "I can see that." Daemon smoothed a fingertip over the curve of my bottom lip before taking my hand, pulling me up.”

“Cupping one of her cheeks, he swiped at the wetness. “Would you want to live without me?” Tears flowing freely, she shook her head. “Then don’t expect me to live without you. You’re mine, Fiona. Have been from the moment I laid eyes on you, from the moment you tried to warn me off fighting your brother because you were worried I’d get hurt. Don’t you dare expect me to live a life without you! You go into the afterlife? So do I. Simple as that. If we have a day left, I want to enjoy every second of it with you.”

“Cuquis can read. She pores over a Bible the missionaries have given her. "Listen to this," she says. "'Let the rich man glory in his humiliation, because like flowering grass he will pass away. For the sun rises with a scorching wind and withers the grass. And its flower falls off. And the beauty of its appearance is destroyed. So too the rich man in his pursuits will fade away.'" Several of the women mutter, "Amen." "Good old Jesus Christ," Cuca says. "He'll kick the shit out of those rich bastards.”

“Curbing negativity is also about owning up to one’s responsibilities, and not passing the buck. It is a usual tendency to look at the source of failure and negativity outside of ourselves typically in the team members we work with. I can say one thing that failure has taught me is to look inward, and even if it is a team member who has failed, try and see the best in them and encourage them out of that failure.”