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S Quotes

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“Sweat isn't a bad thing," he said, leaning his head against the wall thoughtfully. "Some of the best things in life happen while your sweating. Yeah, if you get too much of it and it gets old and stale, it turns pretty gross. But on a beautiful women? Intoxicating. If you could smell things like a vampire does, you'd know what I'm talking about. Most people mess it all up and drown themselves in perfume. Perfume can be good...especially if you get one that goes with your chemistry. But you only need a hint. Mix about 20 percent of that with 80 percent of your own perspiration...mmm." He tilted his head to the side and looked at me. "Dead sexy.”

“Sweat popped out on his brow. Little by little he advanced. Higher. Deeper. Her flesh yielding beneath his gentle but inevitable penetration. She moaned. "It's not enough. Dammit, it's not enough!" His laugh was triumphant. "Patience, love. Patience." She buried her head against his shoulder. He buried his finger inside her cleft, as far as he could. His thumb slowly circled her velvety pearl, pressed, then circled anew, faster and faster, gaining a tempo he knew would drive her wild. Her hands came up, clenching and unclenching against his chest. He felt the tension strung throughout her body and knew precisely what caused it. Knew precisely how to ease it. "Don't fight it." The words were a low, silken whisper, yet his tone was almost gritty with self-control. "Just let it happen, darling. Just let it happen." She couldn't stop it. He knew that pure sensation burned inside her. She writhed around his finger, her hips seeking, stark and wanton. He knew precisely when the spasms of release seized hold. She cried aloud. Her body contracted around him, again and again. She collapsed against him, spent and satiated, his finger still deep inside her. Aidan, however, was more aroused than he had ever been in his life. Every part of his body, every muscle, every nerve, was taut and on edge, almost to the breaking point. A crimson haze of desire scorched his insides, for though Fionna had gained release, he had not. He could barely think. Powerful arms lifted her, catching her so that she faced him, her bare legs bracketed around his. a long arm swept around her back. "You pleased me, love. And I am glad that I pleased you so much. But the next time we are together like this, it will be a different part of me that will be inside you. The next time it will be this." Reaching between them, he fumbled with his trousers, freeing his rigid erection, curling her fingers around his thick, swollen flesh and sealing it there with the pressure of his own. "And there will be nothing between us, sweet. No barriers of clothing. No barriers of words. Do you understand what I am saying?" Fionna gaped at him, stunned at what he'd said. Stunned at what he was doing. She could feel that rigidly masculine part of him... good heavens, her palm was filled with that rigidly masculine part of him.”

“Sweater, n.: garment worn by child when its mother is feeling chilly.”

“Sweating bullets to line up the Bible with our exhausting expectations, to make the Bible something it’s not meant to be, isn’t a pious act of faith, even if it looks that way on the surface. It’s actually thinly masked fear of losing control and certainty, a mirror of an inner disquiet, a warning signal that deep down we do not really trust God at all.”

“Sweating the small stuff is OK, but exercise your complaints lightheartedly. Seek out humor in your whining. Be humble. Be self-aware. If you allow yourself to sweat the small stuff—and I think you should—then you also must force yourself to be detail oriented. If you allow yourself to sweat the small stuff, then you must try your hardest not to sweat the big stuff. That’s the deal we are making in this chapter. I will declare that it is acceptable to complain every once in a while, and you will agree to do it only with the small stuff and not the big stuff. I am giving this advice because venting is extremely healthy. And it is also good practice for self-awareness. Venting about the little things provides you with perspective on how silly and unproductive complaining really is. At the same time, we should recognize that pent-up frustration can have real consequences and be detrimental to our mental health. I firmly believe that allowing yourself the space to complain every once in a while about the little things frees up mental bandwidth to deal with more consequential life events. It is a frustration-release valve.”

“Sweden had paternity-leave policies in place for years but found that few men were taking advantage of the benefit. While women felt comfortable taking time off to be with baby, men worried that they would look less dedicated to their careers if they did the same. So the Swedish government implemented a “use it or lose it” policy, mandating that the country’s thirteen-month parental leave cannot only be used by one parent – the other parent must use at least two months of the leave, or both lose those months entirely. Today 85% of Swedish fathers take paternity leave. The policy has helped redefine notions of masculinity and femininity in the already-egalitarian country.”

“Sweden rejected fluoridation in the 1970s, and in this excellent book these three scientists have confirmed the wisdom of that decision. Our children have not suffered greater tooth decay, as World Health Organization figures attest, and in turn our citizens have not borne the other hazards fluoride may cause”

“Swedes are such a civilised, perfect society - at least on the surface. There's a great safety net, a huge middle class, free education, free health care. People are very polite, they wait their turn. They're not too loud, they're not too quiet, but sometimes it's a little too perfect.”

“Sweep aside those hatred-eaten mystics, who pose as friends of humanity and preach that the highest virtue man can practice is to hold his own life as of no value. Do they tell you that the purpose of morality is to curb man’s instinct of self-preservation? It is for the purpose of self-preservation that man needs a code of morality. The only man who desires to be moral is the man who desires to live.”

“Sweep the garden, any size, said the roshi. Sweeping, sweeping alone as the garden grows large or small. Any song sung working the garden brings up from sand gravel soil through straw bamboo wood and less tangible elements Power song for the hands Healing song for the senses what can and cannot be perceived of the soul.”

“Sweep your mind and clean your heart, for these are the very places where things that make or mar our entire journey of life and living dwell! Sweep your mind and clean your heart, then you shall be free to be free and indeed have a true freedom! Sweep your mind and clean your heart, so you may have a clean mind and heart to be clean! Sweep your mind and clean your heart for not all things deserve a place in your heart and body! Sweep your mind and clean your heart, for in the end, so many things living in your heart and mind may never matter as part of the matters of your lifetime and life which really matter! Clean your heart and sweep your mind for certain people and things are in there only to disturb you for all the moments they shall continue to live there! Sweep your mind and clean your heart, for your body deserves nothing, but a clean mind and a clean heart daily for a daily fresh and refreshed body! Sweep your mind and clean your heart for there are so many toxic substances in our minds and hearts which we ponder over and over every day that weaken not just our hearts and minds every day, but our entire daily life and living! Sweep your mind and clean your heart for certain things deserve to live permanently in our hearts and minds so as to enable us live and leave distinctive footprints, and certain things deserve to leave our hearts and minds so that we can have a safe journey of life, and live and leave distinctive footprints in our journey of life!”