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Sensational Quotes

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Sensational Quotes

“He leaned back on his hands. And then idly turned to her. She inhaled, and exhaled an almost long-suffering sigh. And he began in a patient, almost leisurely fashion, in a voice fashioned from dark velvet, a voice that stroked over her senses until they were lulled, to lecture directly to her as if she was a girl in the schoolroom. "A proper kiss, Miss Eversea, should turn you inside out. It should... touch places in you that you didn't know existed, set them ablaze, until your entire being is hungry and wild. It should... hold a moment, I want to explain this as clearly as possible..." He tipped his head back and paused to consider, as though he were envisioning this and wanted to relate every detail correctly. "It should slice right down through you like a cutlass with a pleasure so devastating it's very nearly pain." He waited, watching her face, allowing her to accommodate the potent words. Her mouth was parted. Her breathing short. She couldn't look away. His eyes and voice held her as fast as if he'd cradled her face with his hands. And as he said them, an echo of sensation sounded in her, like a remembered dream, an instinct awakened. She thought about Mars getting ready to give Venus a good pleasuring. Stop, she should say. "And...?" she whispered. "It should make you do battle for control of your senses and your will. It should make you want to do things you'd never dreamed you'd want to do, and in that moment all of those things will make perfect sense. And it should herald, or at least promise, the most intense physical pleasure you've ever known, regardless of whether that promise is ever, ever fulfilled. It should, in fact..." he paused for effect "haunt you for the rest of your life." She sat wordlessly when he was done. As though waiting for the last notes of a stormy, discordant symphony to echo into silence. 'The most intense physical pleasure.' His words reverberated in her. As if her body contained the ancient wisdom of what that meant, and now, having been reminded, craved it.”

PleasureSensationalAlexander MoncrieffeGenevieve And Alexander
Book:What I Did for a Duke
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“Elspeth reached up a tentative hand to comfort him, palming the cheek that wasn’t covered with woad. He wrapped an arm around her waist and tugged her closer. Her lips parted. His tongue swept in. Her belly clenched, and a warm glow settled between her legs. He left her lips and began kissing her chin, her cheeks, her neck. “Ach! Ye’re sweet, lass.” Pity dissipated like morning mist. Instead, little wisps of pleasure followed his mouth’s path. The stubble of his beard grazed the tops of her breasts, and her nipples tightened almost painfully. She sucked her breath over her teeth to keep from crying out in pleasure and surprise when his palm covered her breast, the pressure sweet even through the stiff boning of her pink silk bodice.”

PleasureSensationalHighlander RomanceElspeth And RobPhysical Pleasure
Book:Sins of the Highlander
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“Tell me what you are thinking when you look at me like that." There was iron and ice in his voice. Not even a hint of tenderness. For some reason, his harsh manner did not bother her. She sensed something beautiful and elusive existed behind his daunting facade. The possibility of discovering what it was filled her with delicate anticipation. She looked into his eyes and answered truthfully. "I am thinking about how you make me feel." The muscles along his jaw tensed, and his eyelids lowered just the barest fraction. He brought his hands around to clasp them behind his back. To keep from reaching for her? "How do I make you feel?" Her skin tingled in reaction to the raw note in his voice. Lily took a moment as she thought about how to put it into words. It was a difficult thing to explain, and she wanted it to come out right. "I feel..." she began, then hesitated. Her breath caught in her chest, and she had to force it out on a heavy sigh. "I feel strong and weak at the same time. When you look at me, I feel exposed, as if you can see my most private thoughts. And though it frightens me- you frighten me- it is such an exquisite sensation that I do not want it to end. Because I want you to know me, to see the deepest parts of me." At first he did not respond beyond a fierce clenching of his teeth, and Lily wondered if he wanted to hear something else. Had she revealed too much of her inexperience? Should she have said something more provocative, more sophisticated? "Do you desire me?" he asked finally. The molten heat running through his words curled around her, heating her breath, her skin, her blood. She looked into his eyes and felt a swirling deep within. It tingled like white fire and spread to the most intimate places in her body.”

DesireConfessionSensationalLily And AvenellLily Chadwick
Book:The Untouchable Earl
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“And what’s a healer’s touch like?” she asked, working quickly to push the needle through and tie off another knot, closing his wound with each stitch. “Light as a feather. Like this.” He moved his hand from her arm to her breast. His fingertips brushed the bared skin above her bodice in teasing strokes. She held herself still, beguiled by the sensation. She’d never have guessed her body would react so to a man. She should be afraid, she knew, but her only fear was that he’d stop. His touch moved down, between the stiff boning of her bodice and the soft, thin chemise, circling her nipple slowly through the cloth of her undergarment. Oh, how he made her ache. He tormented that needy skin with his nearness. She fought the urge to squirm into his touch. When he finally flicked a nail over it, a jolt of wickedness shot from her breast to her womb.”

TouchSensationalElspeth And RobPhysical Pleasure
Book:Sins of the Highlander
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“Turn." It took her a moment to realize what he meant. He wanted her to spin into the bandages, instead of standing still and allowing him to wrap her. She did so, slowly, understanding almost immediately the seductive nature of the situation. Something about the movement, about his dark blue eyes on her as she spun, made her feel like a temptress- his Salome. He did not touch her as she turned, dancing only for him; instead, he allowed her to choose the speed and the strength of the fabric, she spun right into his arms. Holding her gaze, Ralston tucked the end of the linen into the bindings before he took her face in one hand and tilted it up for another kiss. This one was soft and sweet, his lips brushing gently across hers in an excruciatingly slow caress, leaving her heart pounding and her mind reeling. With his other hand, he stroked one flattened breast gently, teasing the protected skin until she wanted to tear off the bindings again. He broke off the kiss and leaned down, setting his lips to the edge of the linen, softly laving the sensitive skin straining above the bindings. "Poor, lovely darlings," he murmured, worshipping her with hands and mouth, raising her temperature and sending another wave of passion pooling deep within her.”

Passionate LoveSensationalCallie And RalstonSalome
Book:Nine Rules to Break When Romancing a Rake
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“If you taste as good as you smell, I'm afraid you'll have me wrapped around your finger in no time." Apollo inhaled the air by my neck. "I highly doubt that," I whispered. He chuckled. Apollo's soft touch was gentle with me as he tilted my head to have better access to my neck. "It will only sting for a moment, my dear." His fangs pierced my neck and I bit back a scream. They were sharp as they dug into my flesh, pulling painfully at my skin, worse than any cut, any needle that had touched me in all my life. Thankfully it was over in an instant, and the pain was replaced by a warm sensation. Very warm. It traveled from my neck down into my chest, and from there it flowed down even farther into my... "Oh you... fucking... cheater," I gasped as I clenched my thighs together. I had completely forgotten why powerful vampires had no problem finding blood supplies. It felt good. Stupidly good. It was the bottom of a top-shelf bottle and the smoothest drug all wrapped in the needy high of sex. It was consuming, pulsing heat. Apollo drew back for a moment to give me a wicked grin. Swimming, everything was swimming, but I didn't hate it. Not that I didn't want to, but nothing had ever messed with my head in this way before. My own blood reddened his lips, but it was the sexiest thing I had ever seen. "Everything okay, my dear?" "Go lick a garlic bulb.”

SensationalCaptiveDruggedVampire Bite
Book:Dirty Lying Dragons
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“But, to her ultimate surprise, a tight, aching heat bloomed low in her belly, starting in her womb and reaching for the shaft of branding heat plunging and retracting from inside her. Her lips parted of their own accord, and a small sound of delighted surprise escaped. Blackwell's eyes sharpened. Questioned. Farah's body answered without thought. A lift of her hips, a press of her thighs, and a soft moan of encouragement. It was all he needed. Blackwell didn't kiss or taste her. Instead he watched her face with an intensity that abashed her. Every flutter of her eyelid, or intake of breath, the way her lips parted or pressed together. His body again became a conduit of her gratification. It shocked her how he could support his heavy frame all this time on one powerful arm, but the thought dissipated as he used his other hand to explore her, rendering her mind useless and directing her awareness like a symphony conductor. He traced the line of her jaw, the curve of her cheekbones, as though committing her to memory, or visiting one, she couldn't be sure. As the slow pressure mounted, her moans became mewls, her mewls became cries. His finger drifted along the outline of her lips, slipping past her teeth and leaving the taste of sex on her tongue. Sex and leather. She closed her lips and rolled the glove between her tongue and the roof of her mouth, feeling the hard ridge of his fingers beneath. He hissed, growled, and pulled his hand away, drawing it down to her hip and gripping the curve of her ass, spreading her wider for his accelerating thrusts. Farah's head tossed against her pillow, her eyes rolling back into their sockets, retreating from sight, as her other overwhelmed senses demanded her attention. Leather and sex. Darkness. Spice. Chilly air. Hot Blood. Textiles. Smooth, slick flesh. Wide, hard male. A mouth on hers. A tongue thrusting inside, tasting the essence of her he'd left there, lapping at it.”

Hot SexSensationalFarah And Dorian
Book:The Highwayman
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“His weight lifted, and his hand reached between her thighs, stroking and opening her. She felt a nudge, an adjustment as he aligned himself, then steady pressure at her entrance. He was so hard, his flesh like steel, but he was gentle and controlled, taking his time. She gasped as her muscles gave way and the broad tip pushed inside, stretching her, keeping her open. He held still, his hands stroking her hips and bottom. All her nerves tingled and sparked in anticipation, knowing how good it was going to be. She pressed back against him, and he sheathed himself in a slow, wet plunge, all the way inside, deeper than she'd ever been filled before. He went in at just the right angle, pressing where she most wanted. Her body gripped him, or tried to, except the invasion was so thick, her muscles only fluttered and throbbed instead of clenching down. She felt almost as if she were at the brink of release. And to her astonishment... she was. She was about to tip over into a sea of mind-dissolving pleasure. "Wait," she heard Keir say through the clamor of her heartbeat. His hands were on her hips, keeping her close and tight. For some reason it aroused her intolerably, knowing he was trying to stop her from climaxing. She tried to drive herself back on the hard shaft inside her, unable to get enough of its even though she was stretched to the limit. Raising up on her forearms, she writhed and pushed desperately against him. Keir's husky laugh caressed her ears as he leaned over her. He held her hips snugly against his, allowing only a sense of motion, a subtle grinding that wasn't nearly enough. Very gently, he closed his teeth on the side of her neck and soothed it with his tongue. "Tell me how good it feels," he whispered. Merritt fought for the breath to reply. "It feels too good. I want to come... I want to spend... oh, please, Keir..." "Spend," he repeated, and smiled against her shoulder. "I like that word for it." He withdrew just an inch, and rolled his hips upward. "Aye, I want your pleasure. Spend it all on me." She sobbed and squirmed, able to feel the motion of him deep in her belly, but it wasn't enough. "Harder. Please." The rhythmic drives grew longer, more aggressive. "No one else could ever feel this good to me," he said. "No other woman in the world. Only you." He reached beneath her to cup the round weights of her breasts, and began to pinch and tug at her nipples. Not sharply but not softly, the little flashes of discomfort somehow magnifying her pleasure. His hand slid down her front and between her thighs, finding the taut peak of her sex. The gently massaging fingers, the steady pumping, set off an explosion of pleasure that spread to every part of her body and kept unfolding and renewing itself. The release was so powerful, it left her dazed and too weak to move. She was only vaguely aware of Keir's climax, the quiet growl he pressed against her skin, the rough shudders that ran though him.”

Hot SexSensationalMerritt And Keir
Book:Devil in Disguise
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“I only remember the green-apple fragrance of her breath, the shock of her eyes meeting mine, and the magnetic current that pulled me to her. I remember the fan of her eyelashes as she lowered her eyes to read, and I remember the translucence of her fingernails, the pale pink nail bed and clean white rim, as she pointed to each word. And, of course, the beguiling scent of her. I caught the smell of soap and baking and, under that, a flowery musk, mysterious and exciting. Her scent conjured a dreamscape of everything I longed for.”

AttractionSensationalPhysical AttractionFrancesca
Book:The Book of Unholy Mischief
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“Thick, pale golden juice burst like a tiny rain cloud, tart as a lime and sweet as a peach on my tongue. Full-bodied. A trickle dripped down my index finger, caught just in time, too prized to go to waste. I let Darwin lick it. The real thing, its brilliant sweetness, eaten miles from human habitation, acted as an intoxicating potion. Immediately, its taste unlocked the gates to other northern lands and, as the last of the sweet-sour flavor fizzed out on my tongue, overlaying images sped joyfully through my mind: birch forests, mountains, glittering lakes, snowy trains, windswept taiga. I lingered over that single cloudberry, cherishing it, more than caviar, more than whisky or truffles, more than anything else I had ever eaten, smoked or drunk before. Once it had gone, I felt only a little grief, convincing myself that the cloudberry-- surely the ultimate 'taste of place'-- was somehow a gift; I felt I had consumed its very northernness. It brought back the similar sensations of eating a pear in an orchard, a melon in a melon field, an apple in a grove, though nothing could really compare.”

TasteFlavorSensationalRaritySweet And SourCloudberries
Book:Cold Kitchen: A Year of Culinary Travels
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“The dark fruity flavor was overwhelmed by the other sensations the wine brought— the feel of sunlight on my skin and the weight of the heavy braids that fell to my waist, the hair that was long enough for Elan to wrap around his wrist and up his arm until he wore it like a sleeve. The smell of summer rain hitting the dry prairie soil; and at the same time, the smell of pine and water and mountain flowers, all distinct, present but not clashing. The knowledge that I was loved. That I was among friends. The pleasant soreness in my legs that came from climbing a mountain, the taste of just-picked berries and fresh bread made from flour ground that morning.”

SensationalFaerie Wine
Book:The Tricky Business of Faerie Bargains
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“At the risk of repetition let me say again that my plea is not for immunity to, but for the most unsparing exposure of, the politician who betrays his trust, of the big business man who makes or spends his fortune in illegitimate or corrupt ways. There should be a resolute effort to hunt every such man out of the position he has disgraced. Expose the crime, and hunt down the criminal; but remember that even in the case of crime, if it is attacked in sensational, lurid, and untruthful fashion, the attack may do more damage to the public mind than the crime itself.”

IfsMenWayShouldMindMayBigsRememberEffortBusinessCasesRiskFashionCrimePositionPoliticianLet MeFortuneCriminalsDamageBetrayRepetitionHuntsExposureBig BusinessResoluteImmunitySensationalBusiness Man
Author:Theodore Roosevelt
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“The poetical tendency of the present and of the preceding century has been divided in a manner singularly curious. One loud and conspicuous faction of bards, giving way to the corrupt influences of a decaying general culture, seems to have abandoned all the properties of versification and reason in its mad scramble after sensational novelty; whilst the other and quieter school constituting a more logical evolution from the poesy of the Georgian period, demands an accuracy of rhyme and metre unknown even to the polished artists of the age of Pope.”

WayGivingHas BeensReasonSeemsAgeSchoolArtistCultureInfluenceCenturyEvolutionPeriodsDemandMadPropertyTendenciesCuriousLoudLogicalDividedAbandonedPopeRhymeNoveltyAccuracyPolishedFactionsSensationalBardsGiving WayGeorgians
Author:H. P. Lovecraft
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“When I was there at Marvel, everybody thought if you could draw well and you could do sensational panels, that you were going to be a success. The truth is that no matter how good or bad you are as a draftsman, if you can't tell a story, you don't last in comics. ...About halfway through my stay at Marvel, I realized I was being paid to tell a story, not do a drawing. That's why my stuff is always rather simple and uncomplicated compared to a lot of guys.”

IfsWellsBookMatterStoriesLastsGuyStuffSimpleTruth IsDrawsPaidDrawingI RealizedComicComic BookHalfwaySensationalUncomplicatedDraftsman
Author:John Romita, Sr.
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“In European thought in general, as contrasted with American, vigor, life and originality have a kind of easy, professional utterance. American -- on the other hand, is expressed in an eager amateurish way. A European gives a sense of scope, of survey, of consideration. An American is strained, sensational. One is artistic gold; the other is bullion.”

WayGivingKindHandsEasyGoldArtisticConsiderationOriginalityScopeSurveysVigorUtteranceSensational
Book:Letters of Wallace Stevens
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“from one minute to the next the present is merely an honorary past. It must be filled unceasingly anew to dissemble the curse it carries within itself; that is why Americans like speed, alcohol, thriller films and any sensational news: the demand for new things, and ever newer things, is feverish since nowhere will they rest.”

PastFilmNextUnited StatesMinutesDemandNewsFilledSpeedAlcoholCurseCarrieNew ThingsThrillersOne MinuteNewnessSensationalHonorary
Author:Simone de Beauvoir
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“Nobody understands that by the time the addiction has set in the alcoholic is mandated to drink ... he cannot not drink! Nobody wakes up in the morning and says, 'Jiminy Cricket, I feel sensational! My life is really in great shape! I think I'll become an alcoholic!' I firmly believe that when a shaking-to-pieces alcoholic says he needs a drink or he will die, he means it.”

ThinkingNeedsFeelsBelieveMeanLife IsDiesMorningPiecesDrinkShapesWake UpAddictionCricketAlcoholismAlcoholicsShakingSensational
Author:Mercedes McCambridge
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“In Paris, you couldn't really turn around without seeing the result of lovers' bad decisions. An artist given to sexual excess was almost a cliché, but no one seemed to mind. As long as you were making something good or interesting or sensational, you could have as many lovers as you wanted and ruin them all.”

MindLongWantedArtistTurnsGivenDecisionInterestingResultsSeeingLoversRuinsParisExcessSensationalBad Decision
Book:The Paris Wife: A Novel
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“It has been the sad experience of many that much of the best and the most beautiful is lost to those whose mental food consists exclusively of the sensational paper or the cheap novel, or of that frothy mass of waste material which is thrown up like scum upon the molten metal of life--novelettes, serials, and fragments of a type which neither teach the ignorant, nor strengthen the weak, nor develop the immature.”

Has BeensBeautifulLostTeachNovelMaterialsTypeWastePaperMassWeakIgnorantThrownMetalsFragmentsImmatureSerialsSensationalScum
Book:Vegetarianism and Occultism
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“Teaching is my most reliable form of human contact. I love the opportunity to speak Spanish (which I don't do at home), the give-and-take with students, the surprises. One day you think you have the goods for a sensational class and it bombs. The next day you have nothing and the class turns out splendidly.”

ThinkingGivingHumansHomeFormTurnsNextOpportunitySpeakClassTeachingStudentsOne DaySurpriseContactBombsGoodsNext DayGive And TakeSensational
Author:Gustavo Perez Firmat
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“I also like to use a sensational headline. Many people read blogs in aggregators, which generally show only the headline. So you have to give people a reason to click through. Blogs need to be real and personal. Reading it should be like hanging out with you. I play music for my readers. I show them videos I like. I tell them what I did over the weekend. And I tell them what is happening in the technology, Internet, and VC markets.”

PeopleNeedsGivingShouldRealReasonPlayUseShowsSuccessReadingBusinessTechnologyReaderInternetHappeningsVideoHanging OutWeekendBeing RealBlogsHeadlinesClicksSensational
Author:Fred Wilson
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“What we need more of is slow art: art that holds time as a vase holds water: art that grows out of modes of perception and making whose skill and doggedness make you think and feel; art that isn’t merely sensational, that doesn’t get its message across in ten seconds, that isn’t falsely iconic, that hooks onto something deep-running in our natures. In a word, art that is the very opposite of mass media.”

ThinkingNeedsFeelsArtRunningGrowsWaterMediaTenSkillsPerceptionMessagesMassOppositesSecondsHookMake You ThinkIconicMass MediaSensationalVasesDoggedness
Author:Robert Hughes
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