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H Quotes

Browse famous quotes beginning with H. This page is a child index of the full Popular Quotes A-Z directory.

All H Quotes

“He let go of the rope one hand at a time and latched onto Lisa’s hands. Her fingernails dug into his wrists, but her grip was strong after a summer of lifting girls into the air. It was a tug of war battle between his friends and Shawn’s ghost. The wind died down as Shawn gathered all of his energy to pull on Mike. Even though he was terrified of what was happening, Mike knew that Shawn wasn’t trying to hurt him. After all these years, he was still trying to find a way out. Shawn wanted to go home too, and he saw the hope of being rescued falling away. “Shawn! Please! Let me go!” Mike called over the dying wind, “I’ll get you help! We’ll get you out! Just please! Let me go!” - Saving Hascal's Horrors”

“He let his fingers tease her until she uttered soft cries. Stella spread her legs further and wider as his hand explored, touched, and pleasured every part of her womanhood. She untied her outer bodice and lifted her breasts so they spilled from her corset. Her hands rubbed and played with her nipples. She knew what excited Bartolomeo. He continued to pleasure her while she touched herself, and he stroked his erection until he was near to bursting. Finally, he pulled her forward and slid into her, and her exclamation was louder than either of them expected. She clamped a hand over her mouth, wide-eyed. He did not release her. Instead, he slowed his motion, and once he felt sure no one could have heard them, he began to rock against her, deeper and harder. The bed began to creak, but he was lost in the depths of his desire. When she reached her climax, her cries more urgent and sustained, he lost control and spilled into her, his hips bucking a few more times. His legs threatened to give way with pleasure and exhaustion.”

“He let me go so suddenly I staggered. ‘So you settled for respectable dullness, Angel, while I settled for—’ ‘Disreputable excitement!’ I finished for him, rather tartly. ‘And I don’t know why you think my life is dull – especially since we moved here.’ (That was true at least!) ‘Anyway, I’d rather have dullness than be a hanger-on on the fringes of the sort of life you lead.’ ‘You know nothing about the sort of life I lead.”

“He let out a groan and I stopped tugging at the material, thinking I had hurt him. "Are you okay?", I asked, leaning over him. "Could you kiss me or something so I don't feel so perverted?" he asked. I couldn't help my laugh of relief. Still, I had to admit, the way he was looking at me was pretty hot. "Really? Even with an exposed fracture you're thinking of something like that?" I chastised. "It's not like everything's broke," he said, sounding mortified.”

“He let out a sigh. With my head there against his chest, I could faintly make out the sound of his heart beating through his suit coat. It seemed to be rushing. His hand, gentle as ever, reached to cup my cheek. As I looked into his eyes, I felt that unnameable feeling that was growing between us. With his eyes, Maxon asked for something we'd both agree to wait on. I was glad he didn't want to wait anymore. I gave him a tiny nod, and he bridged the small gap between us, kissing me with unimaginable tenderness.”

“He let Shane drop back down in his chair, and walked out, back stiff. Furious. Shane sat with his hands clutching at the armrests. He exchanged a stunned look with Eve, and they both stood up at once. "No," Shane said. "I did it. Let me fix it." He went off after Michael. Eve chewed her lip and said, "Well, we're either going to see half the house destroyed, or their bromance is going to go all the way.”

“He let you have the pants anyway?" she asked. I had started talking about Maxon as soon as I could, eager to know how their conversation had gone. "Yeah. He was very generous about it all." "I think it's charming that he's a good winner." "He is a good winner. He's even gracious when he's gotten the raw end of things." Like a knee to the royal jewels, for example.”

“He lifed his head and looked down at her seriously. "Could you," he began, then he had to clear his throat. "Could you learn to be fond of me?" he asked. "With enough time?" She looked at him in surprise. It was the first time in all their acquaintance that she'd heard him sound the least bit hesitant. "I don't need to learn anything," she said, before she thought better of it.”

“He lifted her hand to his lips and kissed each finger. When he came to her mother's ring, he paused. "Tell me about this ring. It is not like the jewels I have provided my women." "It belonged to my mother. She died when I was a baby." The comment brought a look of approval to his eyes. He smiled. "Esther. You have made me feel things tonight that I have not felt in a very long time. A sense that I must protect you at all costs has arisen within me." He paused as if searching for the right words. "I have the strongest desire to take you to my bed, and yet I cannot. Not yet." She gave him a quizzical look, not sure whether to fear or hope. "I want you, Esther. But I also want you to be happy, and this is a life you did not choose. So I will give you a choice. You can either marry me at week's end and take Vashti's place as queen of Persia... or you may go back to your father and marry a man of your desire. You are young and I am old in comparison. And I am not likely to ever make such an offer to anyone again. This is completely out of character for me." He laughed lightly. "My advisors would think me mad." "You would offer me this and never take me to your bed?" The idea seemed incredulous since she had spent the past year preparing for that very thing. He nodded. "It is as though the gods will not allow me to touch you outside of marriage. I do not understand its, but you give me a feeling that we could truly be one of heart and soul.”

“He lifted his gaze to the framed photograph of Tanya and him taken on their wedding day. God, she had been lovely. Her smile had come through her eyes straight from her heart. He had known unequivocally that she loved him. He believed to this day that she had died knowing that he loved her. How could she not know? He had dedicated his life to never letting her doubt it.”

“He lifted his shirt, and on his back was the White Rabbit, wearing his waistcoat and looking at his watch. It was just like the illustration from the book. Only standing next to him, back-to-back, was another White Rabbit wearing a leather motercycle jacket and boots and smoking a cigar.”

“He lifted one bottle into the light. " 'GREEN DUSK FOR DREAMING BRAND PUREE NORTHERN AIR,' " he read. " 'Derived from the atmosphere of the white Arctic in the spring of 1900, and mixed with the wind from the upper Hudson Valley in the month of April, 1910, and containing particles of dust seen shining in the sunset of one day in the meadows around Grinnell, Iowa, when a cool air rose to be captured from a lake and a little creek and a natural spring.' "Now the small print," he said. He squinted. " 'Also containing molecules of vapor from menthol, lime, papaya, and watermelon and all other water-smelling, cool-savored fruits and trees like camphor and herbs like wintergreen and the breath of a rising wind from the Des Plaines River itself. Guaranteed most refreshing and cool. To be taken on summer nights when the heat passes ninety.' " He picked up the other bottle. "This one the same, save I've collected a wind from the Aran Isles and one from off Dublin Bay with salt on it and a strip of flannel fog from the coast of Iceland." He put the two bottles on the bed. "One last direction." He stood by the cot and leaned over and spoke quietly. "When you're drinking these, remember: It was bottled by a friend. The S.J. Jonas Bottling Company, Green Town, Illinois- August, 1928. A vintage year, boy... a vintage year.”

“He lifted the arm covering his eyes and turned his head to glare at her. "I knew you were trouble the first time I saw you." "What do you mean, trouble?" She sat up, glaring back at him. "I am not trouble! I'm a very nice person except when I have to deal with jerks!" "You're the worst kind of trouble," he snapped. "You're marrying trouble."”