Quotes about lips

The sweetness of a kiss is not in two lips, touching each other; it is in the feelings that bring and keep them together.

Lips move; lips touch; lips signal. Lips are on the outside for show, and on the most secret inside of your mouth. Lips frame words that lie. Lips frame a hole that wants to be filled.

Mitch's take on humanity had deteriorated to the point where he assumed someone was lying if her lips were moving.

There is a moon,that rests in the quiet cornersof a lover’s lips.

You have had me spinning for days, for I am drunk off the words that flow endlessly from your deep red lips that taste of wine.

when whisperedwhat an exquisitesong, it makes-your name.

Lips are the fingerprints of love.

there have been morningsso quiet and tenderlike a poem, on Thursday's lipsthat I wonderedif I'd been kissed at all...

He tangles his hand in my hair, and the other cups my jaw. Although I have this all planned, his lips feel shockingly sweet, swollen and soft, and more like home every time

You need me to inspire you and remind you how wonderful you are. You need me to kiss you." He lowered his head and pressed his lips on her neck. "You need me to love you.""But more than that," he continued, "I need you. I need you to come home to. I need you to talk to and laugh with. I need you to love me back.

When distrust is so profound that it makes you wary of every word dripping from honeyed lips...It sharpens your instincts...Now for a woman, THAT is a powerful weapon...

Kiss thy lips and you will see what thou create.

I’m jealous of the cherries that have been in your mouth,” he said, “that they get to make your lips so red.” He kissed her softly, teasing her tongue with his, a lustful wet caress, and Austen was suspended in air. “I’m jealous of every single day before today that I didn’t get to spend with you.

His lips so soft, yet so stern, he pressed his mouth to mine. "I will have both of you," he said. "My Sentinel and my city. And the GP will learn exactly how stubborn we both can be.

The smile upon my lips, 
It will surely never die 
As I'm waiting here for you 
until you're by my side.

My lips are like camera for her, whenever I click her with my lips, she smiles.

And then there's the sickness I feel from looking at legs I can't touch, or at lips that don't smile at me. Or hips that don't reach for me. And hearts that don't beat for me.

My lips still quiver when I think about her smile.

A New Year has tiptoed in.Let’s go forward to meet it.Let’s welcome the 365 days it brings.Let’s live well with love in our hearts towards God and all people.Let’s walk through it’s corridors with praise songs on our lips.

A kiss is a secret which takes the lips for the ear.

I’m sorry I can’t do more. But happy birthday, Sadie.” He leaned forward and kissed me on the lips.

I got a question for you, gonna come over here and kiss me with those pretty lips?

He cupped his hand around her cheek, and she marveled at how perfectly his palm fit her cheek. His fingers in her hair, she waited, maybe for an eternity, for his lips to meet hers. When they did it was like being inside an exploding star. Time and space became irrelevant. She slipped her arms under his, clinging to him, his body the only thing stopping her from drifting away, untethered in space. His hand on her back slipped under layers of clothes, finding her skin. He pulled her close, and sh

When you kiss me,your lips upon mine,your kisses taste so sweet,just like a glass of good wine.

So there’s this annual dance in a couple of weeks.”“The Winter Ball,” I interrupt. “There have been signs up everywhere.”“You want to go?”I think about it for a half second. “Will you dress up?”He nods.I move forward so my hands are flat on the towel and my face is much closer to his face. Something inside my chest warms up like a nice kind of heartburn and I say, “And will we slow dance?”He nods again. His bottom lip turns in toward his mouth for a second, just disappears and then comes back.St

I feel something on my chest. Ivy's resting her head on me. In fact, she's pulled herself so close that we're touching everywhere. My heart picks up speed again, but I'm surprisingly calm, seeing her beautiful face close to mine, her eyes closed in an expression of content bliss, and—the best part—feeling her own heart pound in time with mine. She's feeling what I'm feeling.That is when I know for sure."Ivy?" I know what I have to do."Mm?" Her songbird voice is a calm purr."I think...no. I reall

and when his lips touched mine forthe very first time . . . i knew he is theone

Their faces were inches apart now, and he traced her lips with one finger, lightly, lightly, then placed his lips there as if he’d drawn them into being.

I closed my eyes obediently; I felt a light kiss on my lips, on which there was always a little accumulation of blood that wouldn't decrease. And then I fell asleep

And yetto wine, to opium even, I preferthe elixir of your lips on which love flaunts itself;and in the wasteland of desireyour eyes afford the wells to slake my thirst.

I’m sure you remember our first encounter, the morning in the kitchen in North Carolina, and what a disaster it turned out to be,” Carmine said.“What you don’t know, though, is that as we sat like idiots in that puddle of juice, all I could think about was how beautiful you were. How beautiful you are. You were scared and confused, and I know I wasn’t helping that, but underneath it all you were just beautiful, Haven. You had me the very first time I laid eyes on you. I remember thinking later t

Her lips are like strawberries which tickels my taste buds everytime, making me to kiss her red lips everytime.

Lose myself in your blueberry eyes Magnolia, kiss your mauve lips of grapes, squeeze your fleshy, milky macaroon breasts,smell your opium breath of subconsciousness, labyrinth of desires.

Time seemed to stop; the world around them stilled. There was only her. His thumb caressed at her lips, the lips he wanted to kiss.Katianna rolled her face in his palm—a caressing nuzzle and he stilled, his breath froze in his chest.A response. A submissive one at that. His heart, stilled fractured by that single nuance, but his loins burst with a wave of warmth.A response—it had been a response. Oh fuck he had to kiss her. His whole body was screaming for her now.

Pretty girls kissed me on victory day, their lips soft red petals brushing my face.

Because I know it in my bones. You are the only female I desire, the only water that will quench my thirst, the only sun that will warm my skin, the only lips that were made for mine.

I was a huge fan of the bandleader Ray Noble when I was younger. He was one of the biggest musical names of his day and wrote such romantic songs as 'Goodnight Sweetheart' and 'The Touch Of Your Lips.' Wonderful stuff.

Who writes poetry imbibes honey from the poisoned lips of life.

You can preach a better sermon with your life than with your lips.

A voice cannot carry the tongue and the lips that gave it wings.

Her mother admonished through closed lips, the sound a mother can make mean anything from "pick up your socks" to "we are very disappointed you have murdered those orphans.

Forget about that and kiss me," I say.I weave my hands in her hair. She wraps her arms around my neck as I trace the valley between her lips with my tongue. Parting her lips, I deepen the kiss. It's like a tango, first moving slow and rhythmic and then, when we're both panting and our tongues collide, the kiss turns into a hot, fast dance I never want to end. Carmen's kisses may have been hot, but Brittany's are more sensual, sexy, and extremely addictive.We're still in the car, but it's cramped

That is a terrifically intimate thing, you know? Letting a stranger light your cigarette. Leaning forward so he can hold a flame to your lips. Pausing to breathe in before you pull back again.

Soul meets soul on lovers' lips.

Truth sits upon the lips of dying men.

I wonder how you survived with those sugary lips maybe there is no ant in your territory.

He pulled me closer until his lips breathed me in, until we were sharing one breath.

Republicans many times can't get the words 'equality of opportunity' out of their mouths. Their lips do not form that way.

Well, I met Frank Sinatra and Bob Dylan in the space of 15 minutes. Frank Sinatra kissed me on the lips. He kissed me on the lips. And then he gave me a filterless cigarette. And then I met Bob Dylan. I came off all lightheaded and had to go sit on his dressing-room steps.

In Hollywood today, it's cool for guys to wear nail polish and earrings in their lips and tongues. I don't get it.

How can you tell when the devil is lying? His lips are moving.

Not a word had dropped from my lips, or from hers, that could unsettle either of us—and yet the same unacknowledged sense of embarrassment made us shrink alike from meeting one another alone

Why does he have such an unnerving effect on me? His over-whelming good looks maybe? The way his eyes blaze at me? The way he strokes his index finger against his lower lip? I wish he'd stop doing that.

The eye’s perception of texture is pale compared to the lips’, and I didn’t know what velvety was until I knew it with my lips. Oh, kissing. Oh, violin boy.

Our lips now conjoin like the glittery coils of a wet snake dancing in the amazon. Kissing Nadia sends me into a savoring affair for that which is most delectable, always tasting the delicate layers that exist in her myriad of emotion. Always, Nadia’s opulent lips gratify and subdue by easing my sensitivity as she drags her fingers down my stomach like a tree scattering its roots. I now brush my lips over Nadia’s, dipping into her mouth like a brush that falls into a bucket of paint, osculating

In your anger, zip your lips!

It's been 12 years now, and I think he still can read my smiles. The way my lips stretch, making my eyes look smaller than they already are. The way my cheeks turn a little red, forming new wrinkles near my eyes. The way the dimple on my face makes a visit whenever I smile meeting someone I haven't seen in ages. It's been 12 years now, and I haven't smiled at him even once.

A smile is on everyone's lips.

I feel your words on my lipsand feel your mood in my hips

Is it the raindrops pervading my being?or is it your lips touching my skin?

And then in a moment of pure magic, our lips touch tenderly and sensitively!

No poem of mine will, be as beautiful as the one; I create on your lips.

With kisses your mouth taught memy lips came to know fire.

Maybe you are just a liquid dream. Seeping into my soul in the dead of night when everything sleeps apart from my memories from another life, another electric, terrifying, lasciviously greedy time, when your lips touched my body, while mapping the skincape unfolding beneath your breath leaving a ripple of mesmerising carnal pleasures, lingering in my veins...Or maybe you are not...

Soul smiles through the lips of a happy face

Maybe if I stretch my lips, I will remember how to smile.

Alone, all alone in the world, sad and small like a nightingale serenading the infinite. How could a love so tender and sweet become the cross of my pain? No, no, I can't conceive I won't receive your precious lips again. My eyes are tired of weeping, my heart of beating. If perhaps some crystal moment before dawn or twilight you remember me, bring only a bouquet of tears to lay upon my thirsty grave.

I am sitting here, staring at the dark sky and drunk with memories. laughing like a maniac while crying an ocean. Somewhere it feels like somebody is kissing my lips passionately. While they are continuously pushing a knife, deep into my chest.

I realizedJune had never beenjust a monthmusic...never just a trembleon my lipswarmth was nevermerely a blanket.

Your lips were made for mine, Beck. You are the reason I have a mouth, a heart.

Sealing your lips makes your eyes talk Truth creeps beneath your lame feet’s walk Knees stiffen when blood vessels stalk A pounding heart’s lies hard as rock

I kissed him softly and left my lips pressed to his for a few beats of my heart.

Hands. Cheeks. Eyes. Lips.Neck. Ears.Thighs.Heart. Soul.Ahh!the things I get tosavor you with.

I left smiles on your wordless lipsThe night roads- dismal and narrow,dream’s path remains shadowy wideas our lone hearts felt that arrowFrom the Poem 'My Tomorrow

Prose Poems from my book SPANOBSERVATIONSo, we may not be able to explain the world. Not exactly. But we can accept it, and love it. We can turn our faces to the light and examine the minutest details simply for the sake of it. We can live lives of joy and purpose. We are all part of one whole. Take comfort in this. Almost every one of us is capable of holding a cup to another’s lips without our hands shaking.

A kiss-goodnight Can last for hoursMoaning into your mouthLicking the sweetnessOf my lipsBiting softlyHolding on To the taste of yoursNever wanting To let goAsking you To kiss me foreverAsking the goodnight-kissTo becomeA kiss-good-morningA kiss-I-love-youAn entwined faithOf two soulsBecoming oneIn a single moment's kiss...

The Mauna Kea night shift was an 18 hour night in wintertime at the 13,796 feet summit (before sunset to after sunrise) with insufficient time for adequate sleep before the next night shift. Night shift was between 5 and 8 nights long and we slept at 9,200 feet. We sat at a desk staring at four large computer monitors and a large cathode ray tube television. I would also use my Wi-Fi laptop computer. I would have extreme fatigue by the end of every night shift and have chapped lips which I now a

The sound of the words as they're said is always different from the sound they make when they're heard, because the speaker hears some of the sound from the inside

Like a prayer, that was how her name sounded on his lips. She took his face in her hands, finding his eyes blazing, his breathing as ragged as her own

Scatter as a prayerescaping my lips...as orchidsblooming in clouds.

our feet are grape-squashed in memoriesour skins are still flushedfrom the touch of summer’s lips.

The dreams you have that may meet mockeries from the lips of negative people will yield the success that will squeeze tears from their eyes later! Dare to resist every negative criticism and persist to make it happen!

Put on your lips success creeds every day. Never see yourself as an unworthy being, incapable of receiving good gifts from God.

He tunneled his dirty hands through her hair and kissed her breathless. Her neck, her eyes, the corners of her mouth. He kissed her lips as if his life depended on it. Kissed their future into her. All they could have and all they could be.

Her room was warm and lightsome. A huge doll sat with her legs apart in the copious easy-chair beside the bed. He tried to bid his tongue speak that he might seem at ease, watching her as she undid her gown, noting the proud conscious movements of her perfumed head.As he stood silent in the middle of the room she came over to him and embraced him gaily and gravely. Her round arms held him firmly to her and he, seeing her face lifted to him in serious calm and feeling the warm calm rise and fall

A vinal shine turns over shades of cerulean and jasper from her expressive lips, revealing a jewel-like surface beneath a light that remains colorfast in a kiss composed of infinite grace. Being in a state of rest, Nadia still makes me the center of attention, dovetailing in an erotic entwinement that impels me to knead her coiling flex. Her resplendent fullness macerated into my bosom now grants me a restful anodyne, enabling the allay of my inner soul.

She was darkness and he was darkness and there had never been anything before this time, only darkness and his lips upon her. She tried to speak and his mouth was over hers again. Suddenly she had a wild thrill such as she had never known; joy, fear, madness, excitement, surrender to arms that were too strong, lips too bruising, fate that moved too fast.

Kiss someone like kissing is the only way you have to communicate. There is no conversation. There is no sex. There are only two sets of lips that are ravenous to be recognized and treasured.

I clung to each word that fell from his lips like a spider to a web.

I will never forget the magic I felt the moment I kissed your lips.

Red lips are not so red as the stained stones kissed by the English dead.

love wounds me with soft pillows with tender lips and fingers