Melt Into You Famous Quotes & Sayings
84 Melt Into You Famous Sayings, Quotes and Quotation.
He lifted his arm that had been resting on her shoulders and gazed at the words she had written on his hand. He had been branded as cattle are branded to show whom they belong to. The cold mountain air stung his lips. She was driving too fast on this road that had once been a forest. Early humans had lived in it. They studied fire and the movement of the sun. They read the clouds and the moon and tried to understand the human mind His father had tried to melt him into a Polish forest when he was five years old. He knew he must leave no trace or trail of his existence because he must never find his way home. That was what his father had told him. You cannot come home. This was not something possible to know but he had to know it all the same— Deborah Levy
Hyacinth," he said.— Julia Quinn
She looked at him expectantly.
"Hyacinth," he said again, this time with a bit more certitude. He smiled, letting his eyes melt into hers. "Hyacinth."
"We know her name," came his grandmother's voice.
Gareth ignored her and pushed a table aside so that he could drop to one knee. "Hyacinth," he said, relishing her gasp as he took her hand in his, "would you do me the very great honor of becoming my wife?"
Her eyes widened, the misted, and her lips, which he'd been kissing so deliciously mere hours earlier, began to quiver. "I ... I ... "
It was unlike her to be so without words, and he was enjoying it, especially the show of emotion on her face.
"I ... I ... "
"Yes!" his grandmother finally yelled. "Yes! She'll marry you!"
"She can speak for herself," he said.
"No," Lady D said, "she can't. Quite obviously.
You'd have looked perfect to me if you'd walked into the room wearing a clown outfit, with a big red nose and huge shoes,' said Rob, giving her a smile that would have made every woman in a three-mile radius melt a little inside. 'Even if you'd sprayed my face with water from a fake flower.— Debbie Johnson
I was seized at once with a profound fascination, a burning thirst to learn, to immerse myself totally, to melt away, to become as one with this foreign universe. To know it as if I had been born and raised there, begun life there. I wanted to learn the language, I wanted to read the books, I wanted to penetrate every nook and cranny.— Ryszard Kapuscinski
It was a kind of malady, a dangerous weakness, because I also realized that these civilizations are so enormous, so rich, complex, and varied, that getting to know even a fragment of one of them, a mere scrap, would require devoting one's whole life to the enterprise. Cultures are edifices with countless rooms, corridors, balconies, and attics, all arranged, furthermore, into such twisting, turning labyrinths, that if you enter one of them, there is no exit, no retreat, no turning back. To become a Hindu scholar, a Sinologist, an Arabist, or a Hebraist is a lofty all-consuming pursuit, leaving no space or time for anything else.
If you have ever felt the world melt away when the woman you know is destined to be yours walks into the room; if you have felt your soul reach out to hers, finally making you feel whole; if you tremble when you touch her from sheer awe at being the one who has that right; if the darkness swallows you and you begin to suffocate at the thought of losing her, then you will have a small taste of what it is like to be bonded. Costin— Quinn Loftis
How long will you say, "I will conquer the whole world— Rumi
How long will you say, "I will conquer the whole world
and fill it with myself"?
Even if snow covered the world completely,
the sun could melt it with a glance.
A single spark of God's mercy
can turn poison into springwater.
Where there is doubt,
He establishes certainty.
Stand back, akri-wolf! The Simi's gonna huff and puff and melt that door down. And you might not want to be too close when I do it, 'cause melted wolf is tough on the enamel and akra-Aimee might not like it if you turn into a puddle of bloody goo. Besides, burning wolf is kind of smelly to the Simi's delicate nostrils. (Simi)— Sherrilyn Kenyon
My whole effort is to help you to disappear. My whole effort is to help you to be so empty: anatta - non-being. Because if you are, you will remain in trouble. If you are, you will remain limited. If you are, there will be a definition to your being - and you will never be overflowing. Only emptiness can be overflowing, only emptiness can be at ease. Only emptiness can be life abundant. To be, the way passes through non-being. If you really want to be, you will have to drop all concepts of your being. You will have to disappear, by and by. You will have to melt into nothingness.— Rajneesh
You do believe it,' he said. 'You do believe everything. We all believe everything, even when we deny everything. The denyers believe. The unbelievers believe. Don't you feel in your heart that these contradictions do not really contradict: that there is a cosmos that contains them all? The soul goes round upon a wheel of stars and all things return; perhaps Strake and I have striven in many shapes, beast against beast and bird against bird, and perhaps we shall strive for ever. But since we seek and need each other, even that eternal hatred is an eternal love. Good and evil go round in a wheel that is one thing and not many. Do you not realize in your heart, do you not believe behind all your beliefs, that there is but one reality and we are its shadows; and that all things are but aspects of one thing: a centre where men melt into Man and Man into God?'— G.K. Chesterton
'No,' said Father Brown.
I swear you are my fucking dream come true."— Georgia Cates
It's amazing how he can take the sweetest things, throw the word "fucking" in the middle of it, and I could melt into a puddle at his feet. If my panties weren't already off, I'd be dropping them after hearing him say that.
Oh,and the hunk wasn't hard on the eyes, either." Grinning, she gave an obvious and deliberate shudder. "The real physical type.I thought he was going to punch that idiot Tarmack right in the face. Was kinda hoping he would. Anyway,the pair of you made a great team."— Nora Roberts
"I suppose."
"So,what about those smoldering looks?"
"What smoldering looks?"
"Get out." Mo cheerfully wiggled her eyebrows. "I got singed and I was only an innocent bystander. The guy looks at you like you were the last candy bar on the shelf and he'd die without a chocolate fix."
"That's a ridiculous analogy, and you're imagining things."
"He was going to pound Tarmack into dust for dissing you.Man, I just wanted to melt when he hauled the guy up by the collar.Too romantic.
Above all, be at ease, be as natural and spacious as possible. Slip quietly out of the noose of your habitual anxious self, release all grasping, and relax into your true nature. Think of your ordinary emotional, thought-ridden self as a block of ice or a slab of butter left out in the sun. If you are feeling hard and cold, let this aggression melt away in the sunlight of your meditation. Let peace work on you and enable you to gather your scattered mind into the mindfulness of Calm Abiding, and awaken in you the awareness and insight of Clear Seeing. And you will find all your negativity disarmed, your aggression dissolved, and your confusion evaporating slowly like mist into the vast and stainless sky of your absolute nature.— Sogyal Rinpoche
Don't you dare pee on me.— Roni Loren
Love is an elixir,— Ellen Hopkins
so poets claim, a frothy hormonal
brew to cure what's ailing you. Drink
it in. Sip it slowly. Savor
its peculiar flavour as loneliness
and pain all melt away.
Dive headlong into the rush,
ride the raging river up against
the brink, careful not to drown. Drop
over the edge. Negotiate your fall,
for drug or love or object thrown,
one thing is certain. What goes up
eventually come down.
There are girls, not specially beautiful, whom you could not lose in a crowd. There are other girls, apparently perfect in beauty, who seem to melt into insignificance.— Mack Sennett
I'm sorry. Was that gross?" I asked, wanting to melt into the floor and just die. He shook his head slowly and then looked at me for a second. "I'd like to try this after you've brushed your teeth.— Amber L. Johnson
And girl-women, women, curved like instruments or fruit, skin burnished brown-bright, suit tops held by delicate knots of fragile colored string against the pull of mysterious weights, suit bottoms riding low over the gentle juts of hips totally unlike your own, immoderate swells and swivels that melt in light into a surrounding space that cups and accommodates the soft curves as things precious. You almost understand.— David Foster Wallace
You are the fountain of the sun. I'm the shadow of a willow. You fall upon my forehead. I melt. You slip into my heart. It spills open. You surround me with such sweetness. I make it my home.— Rumi
I want to swallow you, have you melt into me and flow through my veins.— Han Kang
Belgarath and Garion effortlessly hurdled over the driftwood and loped off into the fog. "It's going to be a wet day," Garion noted soundlessly as he ran alongside the great silver wolf.— David Eddings
"Your fur won't melt."
"I know, but my paws get cold when they're wet."
"I'll have Durnik make you some little booties."
"That would be absolutely ridiculous, Grandfather," Garion said indignantly.
Go on philosophers— Victor Hugo
teach, enlighten, kindle, think aloud, speak up, run joyfully toward broad daylight, fraternize in the public squares, announce the glad tidings, lavish your alphabets, proclaim human rights, sing your Marseillaises, sow enthusiasms, tear off green branches from the oak trees. Make thought a whirlwind. This multitude can be sublimated. Let us learn to avail ourselves of this vast conflagration of principles and virtues, which occasionally sparkles, bursts, and shudders. These bare feet, these naked arms, these rags, these shades of ignorance, depths of despair, the gloom can be used for the conquest of the ideal. Look through the medium of the people, and you will discern the truth. This lowly sand that you trample underfoot, if you throw it into a furnace and let it melt and seethe, will become sparkling crystal; and thanks to such as this a Galileo and a Newton will discover the stars.
Once the kiss finally broke he dropped his head to Ty's shoulder, turning his face into Ty's neck, and he clutched him tightly, unwilling to let go. Not just yet. Not until the lonely ache that had been building the past four months faded.— Abigail Roux
Ty gave a little whuff of surprise when Zane clung to him, but he slowly slid his arms around him and hugged him, resting his chin against Zane's cheek. "You okay?" he asked in a whisper.
Zane slowly nodded, waiting a few heartbeats before admitting, "I am now.
On a small square, wood is being cut for the city school. Cords of healthy, crisp timber are piled high and melt slowly, one log after another, under the saws and axes of workmen. Ah, timber, trustworthy, honest, true matter of reality, bright and completely decent, the embodiment of the decency and prose of life! However deep you look into its core, you cannot find anything that is not apparent on its evenly smiling surface, shining with that warm, assured glow of its fibrous pulp woven in a likeness of the human body. In each fresh section of a cut log a new face og the human body. In each fresh section of a cut log a new face appears, always smiling and golden. Oh, the strange complexion of timber, warm eithout exaltation, completely sound, fragrant, and pleasant!— Bruno Schulz
What's Baghra's power, anyway?" I asked, the thought occurring to me for the first time. She was an amplifier like the Darkling, but he had his own power, too. "I'm not sure," he said. "I think she was a Tidemaker. No one around here is old enough to remember." He looked down at me. The cold air had put a flush in his cheeks, and the lamplight shone in his gray eyes. "Alina, if I tell you that I still believe we can find the stag, would you think I'm mad?" "Why would you care what I think?" He looked genuinely baffled. "I don't know," he said. "But I do." And then he kissed me. It happened so suddenly that I barely had time to react. One moment, I was staring into his slate-colored eyes, and the next, his lips were pressed to mine. I felt that familiar sense of surety melt through me as my body sang with sudden heat and my heart jumped into a skittery dance. Then, just as suddenly, he stepped back. He looked as surprised as I felt. "I— Leigh Bardugo
the intimacy of the kiss, that feeling of euphoria that comes with that kiss that is right and real, that kiss that swallows you up, starting from the curl in your toes to the fine hairs on the back of your neck, that kiss that leaves you panting for air, that makes each part of your body quiver as you melt against him, that makes you suck his bottom lip into your mouth with the overwhelming urge to bite it. Sometimes hard. That. That kind of kiss.— R.B. O'Brien
I'm like a machine being run over its RPM limit: The bearings are overheating - a minute longer, and the metal is going to melt and start dripping and that'll be the end of everything. I need a quick splash of cold water, logic. I pour it on in buckets, but the logic hisses on the hot bearings and dissipates in the air as a fleeting white mist.— Yevgeny Zamyatin
Well, of course, it's clear that you can't establish a function without taking into account what its limit is. And it's also clear that what I felt yesterday, that stupid "dissolving in the universe," if you take it to its limit, is death. Because that's exactly what death is - the fullest possible dissolving of myself into the universe. Hence, if we let L stand for love and D for death, then L = f (D), i.e., love and death ...
I melt and swell at the moment of landing when one wheel thuds on the runway but the plane leans to one side and hangs in the decision to right itself or roll. For this moment, nothing matters. Look up into the stars and you're gone. Not your luggage. Nothing matters. Not your bad breath. The windows are dark outside and the turbine engines roar backward. The cabin hangs at the wrong angle under the roar of the turbines, and you will never have to file another expense account claim. Receipt required for items over twenty-five dollars. You will never have to get another haircut.— Chuck Palahniuk
A thud, and the second wheel hits the tarmac. The staccato of a hundred seat-belt buckles snapping open, and the single-use friend you almost died sitting next to says:
I hope you make your connection.
Yeah, me too.
And this is how long your moment lasted. And life goes on.
Proceed, philosophers, teach, enlighten, enkindle, think aloud, speak aloud, run joyously towards the bright daylight, fraternise in the public squares, announce the glad tidings, scatter plenteously your alphabets, proclaim human rights, sing your Marseillaises, sow enthusiasms, broadcast, tear off green branches from the oak trees. Make thought a whirlwind. This multitude can be sublimated. Let us learn to avail ourselves of this vast combustion of principles and virtues, which sparkles, crackles and thrills at certain periods. These bare feet, these naked arms, these rags, these shades of ignorance, these depths of abjectness, these abysses of gloom may be employed in the conquest of the ideal. Look through the medium of the people, and you shall discern the truth. This lowly sand which you trample beneath your feet, if you cast it into the furnace, and let it melt and seethe, shall become resplendent crystal, and by means of such as it a Galileo and a Newtown shall discover stars.— Victor Hugo
Let that vile sand which you trample under foot be cast into the furnace, let it melt and seethe there, it will become a splendid crystal, and it is thanks to it that Galileo and Newton will discover stars.— Victor Hugo
Murder, other than in the most strict forensic sense, is never soluble. That dark human clot can never melt into a lucid, clear suspension. Our detective fiction tells us otherwise: everything is just meat and cold ballistics. Provide a murderer, a motive and a means, and you have solved the crime. Using this method, the solution to the Second World War is as follows: Hitler. The German economy. Tanks. Thus, for convenience, we reduce the complex events.— Alan Moore
As she reached back for the buckle, her fingers met Mr. Meisner's. She jumped. "I can do this ... Sir."— Cari Silverwood
"Ah." He brushed aside her fingers. "I see you've at least remembered the sir."
"One always calls gentlemen that, just as you
"
With only a rustle of cloth to warn her, his teeth met in the lobe of her ear, sending a spark into her middle. Like the melt of winter snow, she felt heat pool in her lower body. Her fingers curled against her collarbone where her hands still rested either side of her neck.
"I'm not a gentleman, Faith.
For what is it to die but to stand naked in the wind and to melt into the sun? And when the earth shall claim your limbs, then shall you truly dance.— Kahlil Gibran
Do you trust me, Pidge?" I asked, a little nervous.— Jamie McGuire
"Yeah, why?"
"C'mere," I said, pulling her against me. I waited for her to protest, but she only froze for a few moments before letting her body melt into mine. Her cheek relaxed against my chest.
Instantly, my eyes felt heavy. Tomorrow I would try to think of a way to postpone her departure, but in that moment, sleeping with her in my arms was the only thing I wanted to do.
Let it not be death but completeness. Let love melt into memory and pain into songs. Let the flight through the sky end in the folding of the wings over the nest. Let the last touch of your hands be gentle like the flower of the night. Stand still, O Beautiful End, for a moment, and say your last words in silence. I bow to you and hold up my lamp to light you on your way.— Rabindranath Tagore
Forget the fake syrupy stuff. Melt down a bar of chocolate, mix it into some warmed up whipping cream, and put it on top of ice cream. Add some sprinkles, and you've got a delicious treat.— Blake Lively
I have a deep thought for you. Science fiction is just beginning to catch up with the Old Testament. See artificial nitrates run off into the rivers and oceans. See carbon dioxide melt the polar ice caps. See the world's mineral reserves dwindle. See war, famine and plague. See barbaric hordes defile the temple of virgins. See wild stallions mount the prairie dogs. I said science fiction but I guess I meant science. Anyway there's some kind of mythical and/or historic circle-thing being completed here. But I keep smiling. I keep telling myself there's nothing to worry about as long as the youth of America knows what's going on. Brains, brawn, good teeth. tallness.— Don DeLillo
Having managed to break the bread in half, the bird flew away so quickly, it seemed to melt into the blue sky. Philippe looked at the part left on the ground. He'll come back for it, he thought. You always come back for what is yours.— Katherine Pancol
There were pools of light among the stacks, directly beneath the bulbs which Philip had switched on, but it was now with an unexpected fearfulness that he saw how the books stretched away into the darkness. They seemed to expand as soon as they reached the shadows, creating some dark world where there was no beginning and no end, no story, no meaning. And if you crossed the threshold into that world, you would be surrounded by words; you would crush them beneath your feet, you would knock against them with your head and arms, but if you tried to grasp them they would melt away. Philip did not dare turn his back upon these books. Not yet. It was almost, he thought, as if they had been speaking to each other while he slept.— Peter Ackroyd
She spilled your secrets," said Quinn— Brigid Kemmerer
"Yeah?" He sliced off a piece of chicken and glanced across the table. "What's my name Becca?"
Busted. Becca wanted to melt into a puddle.
Quinn grinned. "You mean it's not really New Kid?
Seeking to distract her from further questions, he bent and blew lightly into her ear. She shivered. "This horse bites, you know." "I think he likes me. Almost as much as you do." "I don't like you. How can I like you? I don't even know you, for you refuse to answer my questions." He stroked her upper arms. "There is little to say. You have Clonmuir, and that makes you far richer than I." He gazed over the horse's back, where a patch of sunset shone through a barred window. Even the warmth of her pressed against him failed to melt the ice of aloneness.— Susan Wiggs
Basically, any material you can squeeze, melt or generate into a powder, you can print.— Hod Lipson
No one has even begun to understand comradeship who does not accept with it a certain hearty eagerness in eating, drinking, or smoking, an uproarious materialism which to many women appears only hoggish. You may call the thing an orgy or a sacrament; it is certainly an essential. It is at root a resistance to the superciliousness of the individual. Nay, its very swaggering and howling are humble. In the heart of its rowdiness there is a sort of mad modesty; a desire to melt the separate soul into the mass of unpretentious masculinity. It is a clamorous confession of the weakness of all flesh. No man must be superior to the things that are common to men. This sort of equality must be bodily and gross and comic. Not only are we all in the same boat, but we are all seasick.— G.K. Chesterton
Life is like molten glass. It flows, it's flexible, it can be molded and shaped and ... what do you say? Ah, yes. It holds vast potential. You have a number of uncertainties in your melt right now. But they will always be there in one form or another. Always. Unlike molten glass, life can't be fixed or frozen into a pretty vase and placed on a shelf to gather dust.— Maria V. Snyder
If I must die young, bury me— Jalina Mhyana
in a music box. I'll be the pale ballerina with dirt
in her hair. Attach my painless feet to metal springs
and open the lid when you visit.
Watch me rise and pirouette, my arms overhead tickling
the dark night's belly until I'm dizzy, until the stars
melt and spiral into a halo over my head
and I've stirred my death into the sky.
I repeat again: the male mind is egoistic. You have to learn the way of the feminine, you have to become egoless, you have to learn the path of surrender. You have to learn how to melt into existence, how to become one with the rivers and the mountains and the clouds, how to feel affinity, attunement, at-onement. And then slowly, slowly you become a host. The day you are a host, the Guest comes.— Rajneesh
We may not be as perfect as we used to be,' says Raffe, 'but it's all relative.'— Susan Ee
I try to give him a dirty look, but I can't help but laugh. 'Yes, I'm laughing at you.'
Raffe pulls me closer and kisses me again. I melt into his taut body. I can't help myself. I'm not even sure I should try
Hate is such a prodigious feeling. It's hot and oppressive like fire. It starts by burning through your God-given reason until there is nothing left of it but a mound of ash. It moves on to your humanity next, hot tongues flicking across the few remaining threads of innocence until they melt into each other and morph into something ugly. Then, in the rubble of what you were, hate plants a seed of bitterness.— Tarryn Fisher
I tried to help you make better choices. You could have saved yourself. But you defied me at every step. You built your ship. You joined that foolish quest. Now you are trapped here, helpless, while the mortal world dies.— Rick Riordan
Leo's hands burst into flame. He wanted to melt Gaea's sandy face to glass. Then he felt Calypso's hand on his shoulder.
"Gaea." Her voice was stern and steady. "You are not welcome.
There's an answer, if you reach into your soul, and the sorrow that you know will melt away.— Mariah Carey
[On writing more Sherlock Holmes stories.] 'I don't care whether you do or not,' said Bram. 'But you will, eventually. He's yours, till death do you part. Did you really think he was dead and gone when you wrote "The Final Problem"? I don't think you did. I think you always knew he'd be back. But whenever you take up your pen and continue, heed my advice. Don't bring him here. Don't bring Sherlock Holmes into the electric light. Leave him in the mysterious and romantic flicker of the gas lamp. He won't stand next to this, do you see? The glare would melt him away. He was more the man of our time than Oscar was. Or than we were. Leave him where he belongs, in the last days of our bygone century. Because in a hundred years, no one will care about me. Or you. Or Oscar. We stopped caring about Oscar years ago, and we were his bloody *friends.* No, what they'll remember are the stories. They'll remember Holmes. And Watson. And Dorian Gray.— Graham Moore
![Melt Into You Sayings By Graham Moore: [On writing more Sherlock Holmes stories.] 'I don't care whether you do or not,' said](https://www.greatsayings.net/images/melt-into-you-sayings-by-graham-moore-1152012.jpg "Melt Into You Sayings By Graham Moore: [On writing more Sherlock Holmes stories.] 'I don't care whether you do or not,' said")
Anyway, here." He handed me a bag. "Thought you might be hungry. Since you're our guests, it would be impolite if we didn't share our food with you. That's your rations for the week. Try to make it last." At my surprised look, he rolled his eyes. "Not all of us live on oil and electricity, you know."— Julie Kagawa
"What about Ash and Puck?"
"Well, I'm pretty sure eating our food won't melt their insides to gooey paste. But you never know." (Glitch)
Puck sat and gazed mournfully into the bowl I handed him. "Not an apple slice to be found," he sighed, picking through the gooey mess with his fingers. "How can mortals even pass this off as fruit? It's like a peach farmer threw up in a bowl."
Ash picked up the spoon, gazing at it like it was an alien life form.
And if the problem [with contraception] is promiscuity, then why does the immense popularity of Viagra go unchecked? Doesn't it make more sense to leave the bullets out of the gun than to try to avoid being shot? Especially when the gun is an old musket, and you have to clean it out and tamp down gunpowder, melt down scraps of lead and pour it into a mold, wait for it to cool - only to have it take forever to finally go off?— Margaret Cho
![Melt Into You Sayings By Margaret Cho: And if the problem [with contraception] is promiscuity, then why does the immense popularity of](https://www.greatsayings.net/images/melt-into-you-sayings-by-margaret-cho-1238345.jpg "Melt Into You Sayings By Margaret Cho: And if the problem [with contraception] is promiscuity, then why does the immense popularity of")
Some things are beautiful, but they are beautiful in the way of the sun. If you fly too close, they will melt your wings and send you plummeting into the sea.— Nikita Gill
I want to know— David Whyte
if you know
how to melt into that fierce heat of living
falling toward
the center of your longing.
I let out a huff and forced a smile. "You're a vampire."— E.M. Jade
I stated.
Dean tilted his chin up and smiled. "I have no fangs."
He said through his teeth.
I examined the glistening white canines. They were
normal, just like mine. "You retract them when you don't
need them." I said.
Dean moved across the table and put his face up to
mine. His mouth was a torturous breath away from my
own. "Then why haven't I sucked your blood Lina?" He
whispered right before pressing his soft lips against mine.
Then he inched towards my neck and lingered his lips on
my pulse. His soft breathing tickled my skin and triggered
a chill that shot up my spine. My blood jumped to a rush
and began to throb for him. If he were a vampire, I swear
I'd let him suck me. "Why aren't I biting you right now?"
He whispered. It took everything I had in me not to melt
into the seat and land as a puddle on the ground.
-Mindy-
If only you would kiss me.— Richelle E. Goodrich
Press your lips to mine like a searing iron. Wrap me in your arms as if you were a monarch claiming a kingdom. Hold me close until I warm through to the core. Do this, and I promise to melt into you, no longer a cold and frozen figure in your narrowed sight. How devoted I would be if only your lips burned for mine!
If only you would kiss me.
Carl Hirsch didn't do holiday parties. At least, not correctly. All the so-called people, wind streaming from their faces. Fleshy machines spewing pollution, fucking up the environment. If he squinted, the celebrating bodies of his co-workers very nearly blistered into molecules, shining with color. Too often the whole of it - people, places, and things - looked to scatter. Everyone on the verge of turning to soup. So what if there was no precedent for a full-scale human melt, bodies reduced to liquid pouring from a window? You could still worry about it. Sometimes you had to. Tonight's party was in one of those long, skinny city apartments you're supposed to verbally fellate with praise. It was like walking into a tiny, dismal doghouse, a real doghouse,— Anonymous
You must reach inside yourselves where I live like a story, not old, not young laughing at my own sorrow, weeping pearls at weddings, wielding a torch to melt sand into something clear and bright.— Francesca Lia Block
It's like a feeling. Like that feeling you get when you've been away from home for far too long, and you're tired and hungry, and just fucking spent, and your car is low on gas and it's getting dark, and you're sick of cheap hotels and cheap diners and every song on the radio and every thought in your head, and all you want to do is crawl into your own bed and fall into a dead sleep . . . and then you turn the last corner, and there it is. Home. All your troubles melt away with one big sigh, and you hit the gas hard, because you just can't stay away one second longer.— J.T. Geissinger
No warm blood in me doth glow— Eowyn Ivey
Water in my veins doth flow
Yet I'll laugh and sing and play
By frosty night and frosty day
Little daughter of the snow
But whenever I do know
That you love me little, then
I shall melt away again
Back into the sky I'll go
Little daughter of the snow
His chest, heaving harder this time. His words, almost gasping this time. "You destroy me."— Tahereh Mafi
I am falling to pieces in his arms.
My fists are full of unlucky pennies and my heart is a jukebox demanding a few nickels and my head is flipping quarters heads or tails heads or tails heads or tails heads or tails
"Juliette," he says, and he mouths the name, barely speaking at all, and he's pouring molten lava into my limbs and I never even knew I could melt straight to death.
"I want you," he says. He says "I want all of you. I want you inside and out and catching your breath and aching for me like I ache for you." He says it like it's a lit cigarette lodged in his throat, like he wants to dip me in warm honey and he says "It's never been a secret. I've never tried to hide that from you. I've never pretended I wanted anything less.
I try to give him a dirty look, but I can't help but laugh. "Yes, I'm laughing at you." Raffe pulls me closer and kisses me again. I melt into his taut body. I can't help myself. I'm not even sure I should try. My whole world turns into Raffe sensations as our lips explore each other.— Susan Ee
Will there be no more irises— B.J. Ward
in your garden tomorrow morning,
or perhaps any rainbows that covet
your roof will melt into Rorschach pastels
in your gutters and birdsongs in your windows
turn into shrill shriekings as you recall
how, for one moment, you were as brave
and equal to beauty as that which you feel?
Can't a world end gloriously?
She done mellowed plenty since this marriage. Soft around the edges without getting too soft at the center. You fear that sometimes for women, that they would just fold up and melt away. She'd seen it happen so much in her time, too much for her to head on into it without thinking. Yes, that one time when she was way, way young. But after that, looking at all the beating, the badgering, the shriveling away from a lack of true touching was enough to give her pause. Not that she mighta hooked up with one of those. And not that any man - even if he tried - coulda ever soaked up the best in her. But who needed to wake up each morning cussing the day just to be sure you still had your voice? A woman shouldn't have to fight her man to be what she was; he should be fighting that battle for her.— Gloria Naylor
Nico remembered something Jason Grace had told him in the palace of Notus: Maybe it's time you come out of the shadows. If only I could, he thought. For the first time in his life, he had begun to fear the dark, because he might melt into it permanently.— Rick Riordan
Be careful whom you choose to hate.— Leif Enger
The small and the vulnerable own a protection great enough, if you could but see it, to melt you into jelly.
Beware those who reside beneath the shadow of the Wings.
The streets lie, the sidewalks lie, everything lies— Henry Rollins
You can try and read it but you're gonna get it wrong ... all wrong
The summer evenings burn and melt and the nights glitter but you're gonna get it wrong
And it's gonna sink its teeth into your flesh and pull you to the bottom.
At the casting sessions it was all boys and though I wasn't exactly bored I didn't need to be there, and songs constantly floating in the car keep commenting on everything neutral encased within the windshield's frame ( ... one time you were blowing young ruffians ... sung over the digital billboard on Sunset advertising the new Pixar movie) and the fear builds into a muted fury and then has no choice but to melt away into a simple and addictive sadness.— Bret Easton Ellis
Meditation, you know, comes by a process imagination. You go through all these processes purification of the elements - making the one melt the other, that into the next higher, that into mind, that into spirit, and then you are spirit.— Swami Vivekananda
Why do you make our case (which is hell enough, and we have enough to test us in these coming cruel years) so utterly and absolutely rigid? I can take the even harder horror of letting myself melt into feeling again, and knowing it must freeze again, if only I can believe it is making a minute part of time and space better than it would have been by stubbornly staying always apart when we have so little time to be near.— Sylvia Plath
You can say anything you want, yessir, but it's the words that sing, they soar and descend ... I bow to them ... I love them, I cling to them, I run them down, I bite into them, I melt them down ... I love words so much ... The unexpected ones ... The ones I wait for greedily or stalk until, suddenly, they drop ...— Pablo Neruda
I know your race and mine are never on the best of terms." There was a cold smile in his voice if not on his face. "But I do only what you force me to. You rationalize, Keeton. You defend. You reject unpalatable truths, and if you can't reject them outright you trivialize them. Incremental evidence is never enough for you. You hear rumors of Holocaust; you dismiss them. You see evidence of genocide; you insist it can't be so bad. Temperatures rise, glaciers melt - species die - and you blame sunspots and volcanoes. Everyone is like this, but you most of all. You and your Chinese Room. You turn incomprehension into mathematics, you reject the truth without even knowing what it is.— Peter Watts
The boundaries between us had been breached for good, we gave a new meaning t the notion that man and wife were one flesh. You could track back this kind of alchemy in books: '...intimately to mix and melt and to be melted together with his beloved, so that one should be made out of two.' This is Shelley translating Plato, who was putting words into the mouth of Aristophanes, who's the only defender of heterosexual sex in the Symposium, although he makes it sound perverse.— Lorna Sage
I'm not ill like that," she groaned. He sat on her bed, peeling back the blanket. A servant entered, frowning at the mess on the floor, and shouted for help.— Sarah J. Maas
"Then it what way?"
"I,uh ... " Her face was so hot she thought it would melt onto the floor. Oh you idiot. "My monthly cycles finally came back!"
His face suddenly matched hers and he stepped away, dragging his hand through his short hair. "I-if ... Then I'll take my leave," he stammered, and bowed. Celaena raised an eyebrow, and then, despite herself, smiled as he left the room as quick as his feet could go without running, tripping slightly in the doorway as he staggered into the rooms beyond.
Failure with clay was more complete and more spectacular than with other forms of art. You are subject to the elements ... Any one of the old four - earth, air, fire, water - can betray you and melt, or burst, or shatter - months of work into dust and ashes and spitting steam. You need to be a precise scientist, and you need to know how to play with what chance will do to your lovingly constructed surfaces in the heat of the kiln.— A.S. Byatt
Leroy interrupted Chantal's fantasies: Freedom? As you live our your desolation, you can be either unhappy or happy. Having that choice is what constitutes your freedom. You're free to melt your own individuality into the cauldron of the multitude either with a feeling of defeat or euphoria.— Milan Kundera
This isn't some romance novel or sappy movie. This is real life. We like you and we want you to like us. I guess we could have pretended to act all cool and shit. Maybe given you the runaround and kept you guessing, but frankly I'm not into playing juvenile games. I know what I want and that happens to be you. Don't melt. Don't melt. Don't melt.— Anonymous
Heartache is good. Accept it joyously. Allow it, don't repress it. The natural tendency of the mind is to repress anything that is painful. By repressing it you will destroy something that is growing. The heart is meant to be broken. It's purpose is to melt into tears and and evaporate. When the heart has evaporated exactly in the same place where the heart was, you come to know the deeper heart.— Osho
Memories are jagged little rocks, sharp little chunks of glass, and your mind is mud. Memories sink into it, and you think they've disappeared. But they haven't. They're just lying there, waiting for a hot day when certain parts of the mud melt and make those blades available to questing feet.— Luke Smitherd
Sean swung around and crossed the hall in one long stride. He pushed open the door and they moved into her bedroom, lit only by the warm glow of her bedside lamp. The next thing Evie knew, she was flat on her back on her king-size bed with a fierce-eyed warrior braced over her. "Your're not wearing any underwear, are you?"— Jennifer Bernard
She giggled. "There's only one way to find out for sure."
"Don't have to ask me twice." He pushed the hem of her dress up her thighs. Instant heat rushed to her sex. It was those damn hands of his, their size and power and gentleness. They made her melt just by landing on her body.
Now, let's go back to me bein' like chocolate that melts in your mouth."— Kristen Ashley
"That isn't exactly what I meant," I told him, his arms went around me and he rolled to his back, taking me with him. Then his hand sifted into my hair, fisted gently and my head came up.
"I would hope not, darlin', seein' as every time you take me in your mouth, the last thing I do is melt.
If you want to make a movie out of my book, have one of these faces gently melt into my own, while I look.— Vladimir Nabokov
That's the thing about becoming a family: you gotta melt. You have to keep melting into each other until you become something entirely new. The only constant family rule is that everyone has to keep showing up.— Glennon Doyle Melton
You've got to be fucking kidding me!" The words are out of my mouth before I can put my brain into gear.— A.J. Walters
He must have felt the pain from five pairs of eyes burning straight into the side of his head. Red hot, radioactive beams buzzing onto his temple as he quickly turns his attention to the group of people staring at him. Then his eyes fall on me. Yet again, I melt on the spot at the chocolate pools looking at me.
