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Moaning Quotes

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Moaning Quotes

“I didn't enjoy being a snake, and yet I appear to be doomed to be reminded of it for all eternity,' Cardan was saying, black curls falling across his face. He held a three-pronged fork aloft, as though to emphasise his point. 'The excess of songs hasn't helped, nor has their longevity. It's been what? Eight years? Nine? Truly, the celebratory air about the whole business has been excessive. You'd think I never did a more popular thing than sit in the dark on a throne and bite people who annoyed me. I could have always done that. I could do that now.' 'Bite people?' echoed Jude from the other end of the table. Cardan grinned at her. 'Yes, if that's what they like.' He snapped his teeth at the air as though to demonstrate. 'No one is interested in that,' Jude said, shaking her head.”

FunnyHolly BlackJude DuarteCardan GreenbriarJudeCardanThe Stolen HeirMoaningExcessiveThe Prisoner S Throne
Book:The Prisoner’s Throne
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“Going somewhere?” Tamlin asked. His voice was not entirely of this world. I suppressed a shudder. “Midnight snack,” I said, and I was keenly aware of every movement, every breath I took as I neared him. His bare chest was painted with whorls of dark blue woad, and from the smudges in the paint, I knew exactly where he’d been touched. I tried not to notice that they descended past his muscled midriff. I was about to pass him when he grabbed me, so fast that I didn’t see anything until he had me pinned against the wall. The cookie dropped from my hand as he grasped my wrists. “I smelled you,” he breathed, his painted chest rising and falling so close to mine. “I searched for you, and you weren’t there.” He reeked of magic. When I looked into his eyes, remnants of power flickered there. No kindness, none of the wry humor and gentle reprimands. The Tamlin I knew was gone. “Let go,” I said as evenly as I could, but his claws punched out, imbedding in the wood above my hands. Still riding the magic, he was half-wild. “You drove me mad,” he growled, and the sound trembled down my neck, along my breasts until they ached. “I searched for you, and you weren’t there. When I didn’t find you,” he said, bringing his face closer to mine, until we shared breath, “it made me pick another.” I couldn’t escape. I wasn’t entirely sure that I wanted to. “She asked me not to be gentle with her, either,” he snarled, his teeth bright in the moonlight. He brought his lips to my ear. “I would have been gentle with you, though.” I shuddered as I closed my eyes. Every inch of my body went taut as his words echoed through me. “I would have had you moaning my name throughout it all. And I would have taken a very, very long time, Feyre.” He said my name like a caress, and his hot breath tickled my ear. My back arched slightly. He ripped his claws free from the wall, and my knees buckled as he let go. I grasped the wall to keep from sinking to the floor, to keep from grabbing him—to strike or caress, I didn’t know. I opened my eyes. He still smiled—smiled like an animal. “Why should I want someone’s leftovers?” I said, making to push him away. He grabbed my hands again and bit my neck. I cried out as his teeth clamped onto the tender spot where my neck met my shoulder. I couldn’t move—couldn’t think, and my world narrowed to the feeling of his lips and teeth against my skin. He didn’t pierce my flesh, but rather bit to keep me pinned. The push of his body against mine, the hard and the soft, made me see red—see lightning, made me grind my hips against his. I should hate him—hate him for his stupid ritual, for the female he’d been with tonight … His bite lightened, and his tongue caressed the places his teeth had been. He didn’t move—he just remained in that spot, kissing my neck. Intently, territorially, lazily. Heat pounded between my legs, and as he ground his body against me, against every aching spot, a moan slipped past my lips. He jerked away. The air was bitingly cold against my freed skin, and I panted as he stared at me. “Don’t ever disobey me again,” he said, his voice a deep purr that ricocheted through me, awakening everything and lulling it into complicity.”

IntimateFeyreScentWildTamlinMoaningBiteAnimalisticPickHigh Lord
Book:A Court of Thorns and Roses
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“The 2ams have held my hopes all these years as I calm my nerves down for there would only be three more hours for the world to wake up to my screams and wails of excruciating pain. Probably the drug store would open if I wait for three more hours then. 8am and the doc would prescribe me a few medicines over whatsapp. I would make three cups of tea by then. I would quiet my mouth as it would bite on my arm. By twelve I would finally be relieved as the meds would work. But it's only midnight now... wish you another goodnight's sleep....”

PainNightSleepTearsSadQuietDiseaseSickPainfulIllnessCryingNightmaresMouthMoaningWailingGoodnightBiteArmUnwell
Author:Sanhita Baruah
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“Desolate--Life is so dreary and desolate-- Women and men in the crowd meet and mingle, Yet with itself every soul standeth single, Deep out of sympathy moaning its moan-- Holding and having its brief exultation-- Making its lonesome and low lamentation-- Fighting its terrible conflicts alone.”

MenSoulLife IsFightingTerribleConflictLowsMen And WomenCrowdsDrearyDesolationDesolateLonesomeMoaningLamentation
Book:The Poetical Works of Alice and Phoebe Cary
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“What is the average type of a counterfeit church? A hammock, attached on one side to the cross, and, on the other, held and swung to and fro by the forefinger of Mammon; its freight of nominal Christians elegantly moaning meanwhile over the evils of the times, and not at ease unless fanned by eloquence and music, and sprinkled by social adulations into perfumed, unheroic slumber.”

ChristianEvilSocialSidesChurchTypeCrossesAverageEaseEloquenceSlumberCounterfeitMoaningAdulationHammocks
Book:Scepticism and Rationalism: Elective Affinities and Hereditary Descent
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“They've been screaming about the death of literacy for years, but I think TV is the Gutenberg [printing] press. I think TV is the only thing that keeps us vaguely in democracy even if it's in the hands of the corporate culture. If you're an artist you write in your time. Moaning about the fact that maybe people read more books a hundred years ago - that's not true. I think the same percentage has always read.”

PeopleIfsThinkingWritingYearsBookFactsHandsArtistCultureDemocracyTvsHundredYears AgoPressesCorporateLiteracyPercentagesPrintingCorporate CulturePrinting PressMoaningGutenberg
Author:Sherman Alexie
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“The bright, frosty day declined as they walked and spoke together. The sun dipped in the river far behind them, and the old city lay red before them, as their walk drew to a close. The moaning water cast its seaweed duskily at their feet, when they turned to leave its margin; and the rooks hovered above them with hoarse cries, darker splashes in the darkening air.”

TogetherWaterNatureWalksCitiesBehindsSunAirFeetCryRedRiversLaysCastsSpokesMarginsMoaningSeaweedDarkening
Book:The Mystery of Edwin Drood
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“This is a record I ended up having to make to get on to the next stage of my life. What I did was a desperate thing to do. I'm aware of the fact that it was irrational. I didn't mean to make it sound like it was my master plan. The tour had even been going all right, but I was just kind of fed up with the situation as it was, playing the same old rock and roll crap that everyone goes through, the general moaning when you really should be grateful that you don't work in the checkout counter at the grocery.”

ShouldKindMeanFactsNextSoundSituationRecordsPlansRocksStageMastersGratefulThings To DoDesperateFedsCrapIrrationalBe GratefulRock And RollGroceriesFed UpMoaningCheckoutsOld Rock
Author:Luke Haines
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“The leftists are constantly whining and moaning about all the money in politics. They want campaign finance reform, right? They want to get all the money out of politics. They want government money governing campaigns. They want all the money out, they say. But then you look at their coffers, and it's overflowing with hundreds of millions of dollars.”

WantLooksGovernmentMillionsDollarsCampaignsFinanceReformGoverningWhiningLeftistsMoaningCampaign FinanceMoney In PoliticsCampaign Finance Reform
Author:Rush Limbaugh
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“You know, I'm the mayor of Realville. I'm Mr. Literal. And I never saw the benefit of complaining and whining and moaning. I don't complain and whine and moan anyway, and I don't deal well with people that do. I don't know how to react to complaining, other than say, "Oh, gee, I'm sorry." I don't know how to react to whining and moaning. It kind of bothers me. So I don't do it myself. Lord knows, I got all kinds of things. I could spend the rest of this week whining and moaning if you wanted me to about things. I just don't.”

PeopleKindLordWeekSorryComplainingAll KindsBotherWhiningMoaning
Author:Rush Limbaugh
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“Not Waving but Drowning Nobody heard him, the dead man, But still he lay moaning: I was much further out than you thought And not waving but drowning. Poor chap, he always loved larking And now he's dead It must have been too cold for him his heart gave way, They said. Oh, no no no, it was too cold always (Still the dead one lay moaning) I was much too far out all my life And not waving but drowning.”

MenWayHeartHas BeensSaidStillsPoorHeardColdLaysThey SaidDrowningDead ManChapsMoaning
Author:Stevie Smith
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“The woods are never solitary--they are full of whispering, beckoning, friendly life. But the sea is a mighty soul, forever moaning of some great, unshareable sorrow, which shuts it up into itself for all eternity.”

SoulForeverSeaSorrowEternityWoodsFriendlySolitarySailorWhisperingMoaningBeckoning
Book:ANNE OF GREEN GABLES - Complete Collection: ALL 14 Books in One Volume (Anne of Green Gables, Anne of Avonlea, Anne of the Island, Rainbow Valley, The Story Girl, Chronicles of Avonlea and more): Including Letters and Autobiography of Lucy Maud Montgomery
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“People everywhere brag and whimper about the woes of their early years, but nothing can compare with the Irish version: the poverty; the shiftless loquacious father; the pious defeated mother moaning by the fire; pompous priests; bullying school masters; the English and the terrible things they did to us for eight hundred long years. Above all -- we were wet.”

PeopleYearsLongSchoolMotherFatherPovertyFireMastersTerribleHundredEightVersionsComparePriestsBullyingWetDefeatedWoeTerrible ThingsPiousBragPompousMoaning
Book:Angela's Ashes: A Memoir
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“Marvin trudged on down the corridor, still moaning. "...and then of course I've got this terrible pain in all the diodes down my left hand side..." "No?" said Arthur grimly as he walked along beside him. "Really?" "Oh yes," said Marvin, "I mean I've asked for them to be replaced but no one ever listens." "I can imagine.”

MeanSaidStillsI CanHandsPainCoursesLeftSidesImagineTerribleReplacedGalaxyArthurCorridorsLeft HandMarvinMoaningHitchhikers Guide To The GalaxyHitchhikers GuideArthur DentH2g2
Book:The Hitchhiker's Guide to the Galaxy Omnibus: A Trilogy in Four Parts
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