Boys Quotes - Page 144

Curse false-hand-holding boys!

I'm in loooove with this boy, and when you in love with someone, you don't give up on 'em, mo matter what.

My angel-boy is close now, as in five-feet-away close. There's no way I'm going to burst into song in front of him. But then the contrary part of me says, you're going to let a boy keep you from singing out loud? Sing, sister! Sing! So I do, and my angel-boy turns his head.

I really wanted to raise my boys in a place where 'celebrity' wasn't important, and where I could be closer to where I grew up (upstate NY). I love it here - it reminds me of my childhood. It seems more open minded and inclusive, and I love the seasons.

The sullen boy sitting before me is not my husband, and the girl he is fretting over isn't me, will never be me.

I tried to picture a young, insecure Edward and couldn't, but it was nice to know that once he'd been a boy. Sometimes it felt like Edward had sprung full grown from the head of some violent deity,like a vicious version of Athena.

Anything under size five isn't a woman. It's a boy with breasts.

i felt my being flutter. each tousled head that came through the door i wanted to be his, but no and on, a dozen boys entered, yet not the one.

If someone has a boy who gets to age 18 without something [a bone] being fractured, that kid has been overly controlled.

Listen, after almost twenty years of call-in radio, I can tell you that the main thrust of too many lives is an overemphasis on feeling good instead of doing good. Being admired and respected by the self and others has taken a back seat to feeling good, or, at least, avoiding feeling bad. And, oh boy, the excuses some of you can come up with for doing so!

You can't marry boys and expect them to be men - and you can't massage them into being men.

It's always been a desire of mine to work with my parents, so Wild at Heart was a wish come true. The first day we did a scene together I came down the stairs and my mom pointed that finger at me: "Don't you dare talk to that boy again!" You know, I've seen that finger for 23 years. And I started laughing, she started laughing, then the whole crew broke up - in that moment, they all knew that she and I had been there before.

It's really important for boys to have a father around, or a grandfather, or an uncle - a man they can really relate to who loves them, and who they know loves them.

I became a Christian when I was a little six-year-old boy.

Okay, boys.” Pestilence's grating voice rang out. “Kill the human and the mutt, and let's get this Apocalypse started!

His voice was low and rough … “What about you? Do you like bad boys?” “There’s definitely appeal,” she breathed. “Good,” He bent and clipped her earlobe with his teeth … “Because they don’t come badder than me.

I would love to have children some day. I'd like little gay boys. That would be good.

If there is a defining characteristic of a man as opposed to a boy, maybe it's patience.

She could smell the boy spice beneath the thrift-store aroma of his jacket, and the rubbing and the smell began to work to soften her -- like butter before you add sugar, in the first steps of making something sweet. It was her first experience of how bodies could meld together, how breath could slip naturally into rhythm. It was hypnotic. Heady. And she wanted more.

Rapture cults had packed their suitcases and were massing together in great vigils, waiting for the end. "All bogus," she'd told Zuzana. "Just a bunch of crackpots waiting for the Apocalypse." "Because, fun, right?" Zuzana rubbed her hands together in mock glee. "Oh, boy. The Apocalypse!" "Right? I know. How much does your life have to suck to want the Apocalypse?

You just mingled saliva with the most beautiful boy ever to tread the hallways of Saint Pock's. Saliva. There's DNA in saliva. You're like carrying his cells in your mouth like one of those weird frogs that incubates its eggs in its cheeks

When it turned out that he could, Karou dropped to her knees to genuflect. "Gods of math and physics," she intoned, "I accept your gift of this clever fair-haired boy

There are guerrilla armies that make little boys kill their own families. Such acts rip out the soul and make space for beasts to grow inside. Armies need beasts, don’t they? Pet beasts, to do their terrible work!

Yeah, I must have been really bad in a past life or something." He smiled, his eyes still in pain. Reaching up, he touched a strand of mt hair. " Don't leave, OK?" "Shhh. I'm not going anywhere." I kept stroking his forehead, trailing my fingers across it. His muscular shoulders gradually relaxed, his eyes closing again. His breathing slowed, became more regular. I could hear the TV on in the other room, the sound of voices. None of it mattered to me. I stayed there until long after Alex had fallen asleep-- gently caressing the vbrow of the boy I loved, trying to keep his pain at bay.

This is the ultimate bad-boy date, isn't it? Breaking into a different country." "Hey, it makes a change from hot-wiring cars together." "Been there, done that....Alex seriously, are you sure no one's going to shoot us?