S Quotes
Browse famous quotes beginning with S. This page is a child index of the full Popular Quotes A-Z directory.
“She places an enormous gray cat wearing a studded rhinestone collar with a matching leash on the ground, and I'm finding it extremely hard not to gawk. The cat is a silvery gray, almost blue, and its fur reminds me of feathers.”
Source: The Spice Master at Bistro Exotique
“She planned to make a roast beef, a pile of mashed potatoes, corn- then mounted it into a bowl and drown it in gravy. Some people ate ice cream or pie when depressed; she went for the warm comfort food she learned to make in her grandma's kitchen.”
Source: The Coincidence of Coconut Cake
“She planted that terror of debt so deeply in her children that even now, in a changed economic pattern where indebtedness is a part of living, I become restless when a bill is two days overdue. Olive never accepted the time-payment plan when it became popular. A thing bought on time was a thing you did not own and for which you were in debt. She saved for things she wanted, and this meant that the neighbours had new gadgets as much as two years before we did.”
Source: East of Eden
“She played her song for the Goblin King every spring, every year, to bring the world from death back into life. And when the little girl's gnarled and aged fingers could no longer hold her bow, her children and students picked up her song and continued to play, one long, unbroken melody that stretched across time and memory. On and on and on, for as long as the seasons turn and the living remember all that is good and beautiful and worthwhile in the world. For love is our only immortality, and when memory is faded and gone, it is our legacies that endure.”
Source: Shadowsong
“She played me with a bad hand, and I fell for it every time.”
Source: Tell Me When I'm Dead
“She played really well... for a girl
Her stat lines are impressive... for a woman.
Nobody tells a male hockey player that he played amazingly well for a man.”
Source: The Graham Effect
“She played the keys of my heart, gently yet sensually, setting my soul on fire.”
“She plays chess from the passions and I play it from logic and she usually wins. Once, I took her queen and she hit me.”
Though, he recalled, not sufficiently brutally to require that he tie her wrists together with his belt, force her to kneel and beat her until she toppled over sideways. She raised a strangely joyous face to him; the pallor of her skin and the almost miraculous lustre of her eyes startled and even awed him.”
Source: Love
“She plays music to heal herself, but nothing can heal her brokenness.”
Source: UnWholly
“She plucked another figurine from the mantle: a rose carved from a dark sort of wood. She held it in her palm, its solid weight surprising, and traced a finger over one of the petals. 'He made this one for Elain. Since it was winter and she missed the flowers.'
'Did he ever make any for you?'
'He knew better than to do that.' She inhaled a shuddering breath, held it, released it. Let her mind calm. 'I think he would have, if I'd given him the smallest bit of encouragement, but... I never did. I was too angry.'
'You'd have your life overturned. You were allowed to be angry.'
'That's not what you told me the first time we met.' She pivoted to find him arching a brow. 'You told me I was a piece of shit for letting my younger sister go into the woods to hunt while I did nothing.'
'I didn't say it like that.'
'The message was the same.' She squared her shoulders, turning to the small broken cot in the shadows beside the fireplace. 'And you were right.”
Source: A Court of Silver Flames
“She plucked from my lapel the invisible strand of lint (the universal act of woman to proclaim ownership).”
“she plunged her nose into the fragrant mist, closed her eyes and imagined herself far away, very far away, at one of those Middle Eastern markets that the bombs had reduced to rubble, in one of those gardens that no longer exists except in fairly tales.”
Source: The Girl Who Reads on the Métro
“She plunged into a sea of platitudes, and with the powerful breast stroke of a channel swimmer made her confident way towards the white cliffs of the obvious.”
“She pointed a finger at him. "Smart men don't comment on a woman's eating habits, regardless of how many brownies she can shove in her mouth at one time."
He laughed. "In that case, I guess I'm not as smart as you think I am.”
Source: Midnight Hunter
“She pointed at Eva's sundae. "At least try it. Wilson's has the best. You can't say you've been to Door County unless you've had their ice cream."
Eva scraped off a bite of whipped cream and ate it. She paused to enjoy the sweetened topping. It had been a long time since she'd had ice cream. She took a bigger spoonful, one that had butterscotch and marshmallow on it. Bliss.”
Source: The Simplicity of Cider
“She pointed to a sundress with bright yellow lemons on it. "That's cute. I love lemons." Ay, Dios mio! Carolina cringed. She sounded like a fool. It was like Baby's "I carried a watermelon" line in Dirty Dancing. Why was she so awkward?
"You'd look stunning in that." Enrique signaled to a woman who worked there.
A saleswoman walked over to them from the back of the shop. She quickly and professionally assessed Carolina's body and then picked one of the bright dresses off the rack. "This should fit you. Shall I put it in a room for you, miss?"
"Sure." Carolina followed her right to the dressing room. The dark hair on her arms stood at full attention and her heart raced. Nerves and anticipation swirled through her--- this whole day seemed like a fantasy, but it was tough for her to just live in the moment.
She undressed and slipped the dress over her head. The soft fabric caressed her body, accentuating her curves. She stared at her figure in the mirror. She looked... sexy. Carolina had never seen herself as sensual, but in this dress, in the soft, warm glow of the dressing room lights, she was a knockout.
The saleswoman had also placed some bright red pumps in the room. Carolina loved high heels and never had a problem walking in them, because she had spent so many years dancing with the Ballet Folklórico. Carolina's eyes practically bugged out of her head when she saw their bottoms, and she stroked the red soles--- they were Louboutins, an identifying detail she knew about from Blanca's endless fashion magazines. Blanca dreamed of owning a pair one day. She would be so jealous. Luckily, they were the same size, so Carolina would let Blanca borrow them.
There was only one problem with Carolina's outfit--- her underwear didn't work with the dress. Her broad, wide bra elastics showed under the thin spaghetti straps, and her panties were too dark.
She leaned out of the curtain. "Ma'am."
The saleslady walked back over to her. "Can I get you something else?"
"Yes. A bra and some panties." Carolina told the lady her sizes, and the lady went around the corner, returning later with an adorable matching yellow lace bra and thong.
A thong.
Her face crinkled. "Do you have anything with, uh, fuller coverage?"
"Of course, dear. But not in the yellow. Do you want to match the bra?"
Carolina did want to match the bra. It was such a cute set. She exhaled, stepping out of her comfort zone and into the lingerie.
She again looked at herself in the mirror. She practically couldn't recognize herself--- a gorgeous young woman on a romantic day trip with a man whom she really liked.”
Source: Kiss Me, Mi Amor
“She pointed to the wreckage of one of the frigates in the distance. Half the ship had landed atop one of the towers on the edge of the city, the other half on the flatland beyond. “You didn’t…do that, did you?”
He shrugged with proper dramatic flair. “I did say I came to rescue you. They were in my way.”
Source: Transcendence: Aurora Rising Book Three
“She points the phone back to her own face. 'So can we be finished now, yes? Or should we keep on killing people?'
Javier unleashes a noise that's half sob and half laughter. He wants to plead not guilty by reason of grief. She knows grief is a kind of insanity. She knows.”
Source: American Dirt
“She points to the door. "Leave!"
"No." So she picks up a hairbrush and throws it at him. It beans him on the head and ricochets to the wall, where it wedges behind the TV.
"Ow!" He grabs his head, grimacing. "That hurt!"
"Good, it was supposed to.”
Source: UnWholly
“She points
to the moon.
Our reminder,
that even
in the night,
our sun is alight.”
Source: Solar Punks
“She points to where he went and looks to the neutral Baumen. “He—he did that to me on purpose! He’s insane. Literally, insane!”
The munchkin just shrugs. “Welcome aboard!” and returns unconcerned to his work.”
Source: Rubberband Lazer - Or, The Adventures of Casey Norider and Jaq Synergy
“She poked him in the center of his chest with two fingers to punctuate her words. “You are an unfeeling”—poke —“traitorous”—poke—“mistrusting”—poke—“rude”—poke —“booby!” Every poke turned him mortal, but Lord Maccon didn’t seem to mind it in the least. Instead he grabbed the hand that poked him and brought it to his lips. “You put it very well, my love.”
“She polished her words like smooth river rocks lying perfectly organized in brilliant rainbow shades under crystal clear, slow moving water.”
Source: Magenta
“She pondered the arrangements of the paintings on a wall like a writer pondered commas.”
Source: The Discomfort Zone: A Personal History
“She possessed a strong faculty for simply refusing to admit an unpleasant situation, and going quite blank where it was concerned. If, for instance, you had asked her whether, eighteen years before, she had undergone a face-lifting operation, she would have denied it, and believed the denial, and moreover would have supplied gratuitously, as a special joke, a list of people who had 'really' had their faces lifted or undergone other rejuvenating operations.”
Source: Memento Mori
“She possessed beauty comparable to that of a Kohinoor diamond”
“She poured a little social sewage into his ears.”
“She poured out Swann's tea, inquired "Lemon or cream?" and, on his answering "Cream, please," said to him with a laugh: "A cloud!" And as he pronounced it excellent, "You see, I know just how you like it." This tea had indeed seemed to Swann, just as it seemed to her; something precious, and love has such a need to find some justification for itself, some guarantee of duration, in pleasures which without it would have no existence and must cease with its passing.”
Source: Remembrance of Things Past: Swann's Way & Within a Budding Grove
“She poured out the liquid music of her voice to quench the thirst of his spirit.”
Source: Little Masterpieces
“She poured the water, arranged some bread near enough the embers to scorch but not catch fire, and looked up at Little John. She was so accustomed to his step, to his bulk, that it took a moment to notice his face; and when she did . . . It was, she thought, rather like the moment it took to realize one had cut one's finger as one stared dumbly at the first drop of blood on the knife-blade. You know it is going to hurt quite a lot in a minute.”
“She poured us some more Scotch. It didn't seem to affect her any more than water affects Boulder Dam.”
“She pours sugar on her life
and drinks the artist’s marrow
in the bone of her glass and she lives.”
Source: Hourglass Museum
“She pouted her lips like a gun in my face.”
Source: Collected Poems
“She pouted, picking out a licorice bean and tossing it over the side of the house.
‘I would have eaten that,’ Alien Drake told her, staring after it.
‘I know.’ She smiled widely at him.”
Source: Catch a Falling Star
“She pouted prettily, and he wondered if that was one of the things they taught wealthy young girls at schools like Miss Porter's. If not, it had been passed down from one generation to another as carefully as the secret of fire.”
Source: Summer Island
“She praised his book and he embraced her from gratitude rather than lust, but she didn't let go. Neither did he. She kissed his cheek, his earlobe. For months they'd run their fingers around the hem of their affection without once acknowledging the fabric. The circumference of the world tightened to what their arms encompassed. She sat on the desk, between the columns of read and unread manuscript, and pulled him toward her by his index fingers.”
“She prays she's bought another clutch of days. We save our lives in such unlikely ways.”
Source: Fragile Things: Short Fictions and Wonders
“She prays to God, but He's silent. She searches for guidance, but the forest only moans.”
Source: Kiss Me Deadly: 13 Tales of Paranormal Love
“She preferred imaginary heroes to real ones, because when tired of them, the former could be shut up in the tin kitchen till called for, and the latter were less manageable.”
Source: Little Women: An Annotated Edition
“She preferred silence. So I do not know her and yet I know her. She was . . . (He touches the coffin) . . . not a person but a whole kind of person, the ones who crossed the ocean, who brought with us to America the villages of Russia and Lithuania—and how we struggled, and how we fought, for the family, for the Jewish home, so that you would not grow up here, in this strange place, in the melting pot where nothing melted.”
Source: Millennium Approaches
“She preferred the quiet solitary atmosphere, to create in her own world of paint and colour, the thrill of anticipating how her works would turn out as she eyed the blank sheets of paper or canvas before starting her next masterpiece. How satisfying it was to mess around in paint gear, without having to worry about spills, starch or frills, that was the life!”
Source: Brushstrokes of a Gadfly
“She preferred the times when she could pretend that she was in a gravity well to the little reminders that she was the puppet of acceleration and inertia.”
Source: Abaddon’s Gate
“She presented an absurd picture, and yet—
“Um.” Talasyn bit her lip. “Welcome back. Hi.”
The moment spun through time in a thread of gold. As Alaric stared down at his wife, all of the stress that he had felt over the past month—all of his fears for tonight—melted away. “Hello.”
Source: A Monsoon Rising
“She press'd his hand in slumber; so once more
He could not help but kiss her and adore.”
Source: Endymion: A Poetic Romance
“She pressed a soft kiss to his cheek, licked the strong line of his jaw, the chin with a tiny cleft in the center. She liked his scratchy stubble, the erotic burning sensation it made on her skin as he licked and sucked the sensitive dip between her neck and her shoulder.”
Source: The Marriage Game
“She pressed against him, the thrust of her hips no longer moving in a measured circular motion, but a jagged, erratic, desperate motion. She was near the edge.
"August, August," she repeated over and over like she was in a trance. He twisted his fingers inside her and ground the palm of his hand against her, right against her clit. He pinched her nipple with his other hand.
Her back arched as she came against his fingers, her body shaking, her eyes dazed with wonder and joy as a loud, prolonged cry spilled from her lips. Watching Sloane come was one of the top highlights of his life.
But they weren't done.
Once again, he turned their bodies. This time, Sloane landed underneath him. He hastily procured a condom from the nightstand drawer, donned it, and covered Sloane's warm, tempting body in less than ten seconds. She welcomed him back with open arms. He wasted no time, thrusting inside her in one smooth glide. He burrowed his head in her shoulder as his skin buzzed with lust. How had he denied himself for this long? Being with her like this left nirvana in the dust. Then she twined her legs around his waist and lifted her hips.
"Oh, shit." How was it possible that this position felt even better?
"August, please. Move."
"Yes, ma'am." Her wish would always be his command. Her cries of harder, faster urged him on. She liked hard, long strokes. He could do this for the rest of his life if that's what she wanted. Each time she whimpered when he retreated, only to cry out in ecstasy when he returned, made his heart soar. Made his determination to make it even better for her to soar.
The tingle started at the base of his spine and spread to his extremities. He wouldn't last much longer. But not without her. Never without her. He kissed her again and found her clit. When she got close, she liked him to press hard against the bundle of nerves.
With her cries ringing in his ears, he came, stars shooting across his eyes, shaking with the intensity of the orgasm.”
Source: A Legend in the Baking
“She pressed her face to my chest and my heart leapt a little as she leaned into me like I was someone who could protect her.”
Source: The Reckoning
“She pressed her hand against her chest. No heart. So where did the love she felt come from?”
“She pressed her hand over her heart trying to feel a jagged edge under the flesh. She heard papa sing so many songs about the heart; the heart that was breaking--was aching--was heavy laden--that leaped for joy--that was heavy in sorrow--that turned over--that stood still. She really believed that the heart actually did those things. She was terrified thinking her heart had broken inside her (...)”
“She pressed her mouth to his throat, his shoulder, would have absorbed him into her skin if she'd known a way.”
Source: Sea Swept