Quotes About Pretty Feet

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Quotes About Pretty Feet

There was no way that these guys were going to let a bleeding, barefoot woman simply wander off alone into the streets. Two of them were already running toward her with hands reaching out in a manner that, in normal circumstances, would have seemed just plain ungentlemanly. What would have been designated, in a Western office, as a hostile environment was soon in full swing as numerous rough strong hands were all over her, easing her to a comfortable perch on a chair that was produced as if by magic, feeling through her hair to find bumps and lacerations. Three different first aid kits were broken open at her feet; older and wiser men began to lodge objections at the profligate use of supplies, darkly suggesting that it was all because she was a pretty girl. A particularly dashing young man skidded up to her on his knees (he was wearing hard-shell knee pads) and, in an attitude recalling the prince on the final page of Cinderella, fit a pair of used flip-flops onto her feet.
— Neal Stephenson —

I suppose there's a time in practically every young boy's life when he's affected by that wonderful disease of puppy love. I don't mean the kind a boy has for the pretty little girl that lives down the road. I mean the real kind, the kind that has four small feet and a wiggly tail, and sharp little teeth that can gnaw on a boy's finger; the kind a boy can romp and play with, even eat and sleep with.

— Wilson Rawls

Melissa Jensen Quotes: Well good night he said cheerfully
Well, good night," he said cheerfully. "Thanks for dinner."
"Oh. Right." I took a half step back toward the house. "You're welcome."
"Ella."
"Yeah?"
"You've gotta be kidding."
PECo hadn't some yet, so it was pretty dark where we were standing. I don't know how his hand found mine so fast, but one second I was thinking about how much I didn't want to say good night, and the next I was up against his chest, standing on my toes with my feet between his.
"Is this okay?" he asked, his breath chocolaty and warm against my forehead.
"Yeah," I answered, my own breath coming in quick little jumps. "Yeah."
"Good.I have something I have to tell you."
I waited.
"I hate that Klimt painting," he said. "I really hate it."
Then he was folding me into his coat and his face was right above mine, and there was only one kiss that mattered.

— Melissa Jensen

Here, I'll show you how to use it. Let me see your foot."
"That's a pretty intimate demand in the angel world. It usually takes dinner, some wine, and sparkling conversation for me to give up my feet.

— Susan Ee

I bet you Cinderella didn't get along with Prince Charming's friends. Oh sure, the knights and barons probably put up with her on account that she was pretty and had such dainty feet and all, but you should know every duchess and contess in the kingdom hated her guts.

— Janette Rallison

You really shouldn't have come," Lord Blackthorne said, his hand slipping across my face
to cup my jaw, fingers brushing my cheek. I shrieked, shrinking back and kicking at my captor
with stocking-covered feet. "Such a pretty child, in such an ugly place. Tell me, do you think
your dear husband would mind if I stole a kiss from the bride?"
Kicking him in the shin, I spun, making him release me. I climbed off whatever I'd landed
on, aiming my palms out and wishing that I could see what the heck was happening. Flames
from dozens of candles blinked at me as they lit with the power of my mind. Lord Blackthorne
touched my shoulder, his other hand curving around the bodice of my gown, toying with the
beading along the neckline.

— Cyrese Covelli

Grief is not linear. People kept telling me that once this happened or that passed, everything would be better. Some people gave me one year to grieve. They saw grief as a straight line, with a beginning, middle, and end. But it is not linear. It is disjointed. One day you are acting almost like a normal person. You maybe even manage to take a shower. Your clothes match. You think the autumn leaves look pretty, or enjoy the sound of snow crunching under your feet. Then a song, a glimpse of something, or maybe even nothing sends you back into the hole of grief. It is not one step forward, two steps back. It is a jumble. It is hours that are all right, and weeks that aren't. Or it is good days and bad days. Or it is the weight of sadness making you look different to others and nothing helps.

— Ann Hood

Los Angeles, give me some of you! Los Angeles come to me the way I came to you, my feet over your streets, you pretty town I loved you so much, you sad flower in the sand, you pretty town!

— John Fante

He spotted Jill sitting about thirty feet away, face tipped toward the sun, her straight brown hair tucked behind one ear and slanted across her neck. And Ben decided that when her mouth wasn't full of tuna salad, she was sort of pretty.

— Andrew Clements

Running isn't a sport for pretty boys ... It's about the sweat in your hair and the blisters on your feet. Its the frozen spit on your chin and the nausea in your gut. It's about throbbing calves and cramps at midnight that are strong enough to wake the dead. It's about getting out the door and running when the rest of the world is only dreaming about having the passion that you need to live each and every day with. It's about being on a lonely road and running like a champion even when there's not a single soul in sight to cheer you on. Running is all about having the desire to train and persevere until every fiber in your legs, mind, and heart is turned to steel. And when you've finally forged hard enough, you will have become the best runner you can be. And that's all that you can ask for.

— Paul Maurer

Vegard and Riston's job today was to guard and protect me. And considering that I was in a tower room in the Guardians' citadel, it looked like a pretty plum assignment. I mean, how much trouble could a girl get into under heavy guard in a tower room? Notice I didn't ask that question out loud. No need to rub Fate's nose in something when I'd been tempting her enough lately.
Phaelan had generously his guard services as well, just in case something happened to me that my Guardian bodyguards couldn't handle. Phaelan's guard-on-duty stance resembled his pirate-on-shore-leave stane of leaning back in a chair with his feet up, but instead of a tavern table, his boots were doing a fine job of holding down the windowsill. I don't know how I'd ever felt safe without him.

— Lisa Shearin

I was walking ahead of our little group and, as the Wallace princesses approached, I stepped off the sidewalk into the dew-dampened grass to let them pass. Aunt Belle saw this; she hurried up to me and asked, "Why did you get off the walk when you met those girls?" I replied, as if it should have been clear to anyone, "Because they are the prettiest girls in town! And I didn't want them to get their feet wet!" Aunt Belle grabbed me above the right elbow with both of her hands and shook me until I actually saw blue stars, roughly pushed me back onto the sidewalk, and growled between clenched teeth, emphasizing each word: "DON'T YOU EVER, EVER GET OFF THE SIDEWALK FOR ANYONE! YOU ARE AS PRETTY AS ANYONE! DO YOU UNDERSTAND?

— Mildred Armstrong Kalish

Miss Bobbit came tearing across the road, her finger wagging like a metronome; like a schoolteacher she clapped her hands, stamped her foot, said: "It is a well-known fact that gentlemen are put on the face of this earth for the protection of ladies. Do you suppose boys behave this way in towns like Memphis, New York,London, Hollywood or Paris?" The boys hung back, and shoved their hands in their pockets. Miss Bobbit helped the colored girl to her feet; she dusted her off, dried her eyes, held out a handkerchief and told her to blow. "A pretty pass," she said, "a fine situation when a lady can't walk safely in the public daylight.

— Truman Capote

Fair enough." She lowered her knees, stared down as she buttoned her shirt again. "Ty, I'm really
sorry. I'd never do anything to upset Eli, or to cause trouble between the two of you."
"I know." He pushed to his feet and after a brief hesitation held out his hand to help her up.
"I want to make love with you."
His already jangled system suffered. "I think what we both want's pretty clear. I just don't know
what we're going to do about it. I have to go after him."
"Yes.

— Nora Roberts

Most really pretty girls have pretty ugly feet, and so does Mindy Metalman, Lenore notices, all of a sudden.

— David Foster Wallace

Pretty soon we'd laced the sneakers over his fake feet, and the world's first flying goat boy was ready for launch.

— Rick Riordan

Turn to my left and see a young couple walking along the sidewalk.  Seattle's Alki Beach is pretty much deserted, aside from a few die-hards, or early morning insomniacs, like me.  The young couple are walking away from me, hand in hand, smiling at each other, and I point my lens at them and click.  I zoom in on their sneaker-clad feet and locked hands and shoot some more, my photographer's eye appreciating their intimate moment on the beach. I inhale the salty air and stare out at the sound once again as a red-sailed boat gently glides out on the water. The early morning sunshine is

— Kristen Proby

Dana had four beautiful eyes. She wore glasses. But her eyes were so beautiful that the glasses only made her prettier. With two eyes she was pretty. With four eyes she was beautiful. With six eyes she would have been even more beautiful. And if she had a hundred eyes, all over her face and her arms and her feet, why, she would have been the most beautiful creature in the world.

— Louis Sachar

Most New Yorkers spent their lives somewhere between the fruit cart and the fifth floor. To see the city from a few hundred feet above the riffraff was pretty celestial. We gave the moment its due.

— Amor Towles

Oh, I am so sick of the young men of the present day!" exclaimed she, rattling away at the instrument. "Poor, puny things, not fit to stir a step beyond papa's park gates: nor to go even so far without mama's permission and guardianship! Creatures so absorbed in care about their pretty faces, and their white hands, and their small feet; as if a man had anything to do with beauty! As if loveliness were not the special prerogative of woman-her legitimate appanage and heritage! I grant an ugly woman is a blot on the fair face of creation; but as to the gentlemen, let them be solicitous to possess only strength and valour: let their motto be:-Hunt, shoot, and fight: the rest is not worth a fillip. Such should be my device, were I a man.

— Charlotte Brontë

Good luck, I said automatically and then wanted to kick myself. Good luck? Have a lovely time, Mal. Hope you find a pretty Grisha, fall deeply in love, and make lots of gorgeous disgustingly talented babies together.
I sat frozen on the steps, watching them disappear down the path, still feeling the warm pressure of Mal's hand in mine. Oh well, I thought as I got to my feet. Maybe he'll fall into a ditch on his way there.

— Leigh Bardugo

Pretty thing," whispered an old woman from a doorway in Maktahm. "Pretty skin. Pretty bones."
"This way, Master," called another.
"Come inside."
"Rest your feet."
"Rest your bones."
"Pretty bones."
"Pretty blood."
"Drink your magic."
"Eat your life."
"Come inside.

— Victoria Schwab

James Arness Quotes: Ive got a little arthritis that i have
I've got a little arthritis that I have to deal with. I was 6 feet 7 when I started, and I've shrunk up a little bit. I'm probably 6-5 or so now. But up here at 82, I feel pretty good. I'm sticking in there.

— James Arness

I played Little League. I was a 'pitcher.' But we had a pitching machine, so I was just basically an 'in-infield' shortstop because all I got to do was field bloopers six feet from the plate. I couldn't hit, so that was pretty much my entire job.

— Freddie Prinze, Jr.

Allan Karlsson hesitated as he stood there in the flower bed that ran along one side of the Old Folks' Home. He was wearing a brown jacket with brown trousers and on his feet he had a pair of brown indoor slippers. He was not a fashion plate; people rarely are at that age. He was on the run from his own birthday party, another unusual thing for a 100-year-old, not least because even being 100 is pretty rare.

— Jonas Jonasson

Nalini Singh Quotes: I dont need a mate she muttered staring
I don't need a mate," she muttered, staring up at the bright circle of the early autumn moon. "But can't you send me a nice, sexy, strongmale to dance with? Pretty please?" She hadn't had a lover for close to eight months now, and it was starting to hurt on every level. "He doesn't even have to be smart, just good between the sheets." Good enough to unsnap the tension in her body, allow her to function again. Because sex wasn't simply about pleasure for a cat like her-it was about affection, about trust, about everything good. "Though right this second, I'd take plain old hot sex."
That was when Riley walked out of the shadows. "Got an itch, kitty?"
Snapping to her feet, she narrowed her eyes, knowing he had to have deliberately stayed downwind in order to sneak up on her. "Spying?"
"When you're talking loud enough to wake the dead?"
She swore she could feel steam coming out her ears.

— Nalini Singh

I grew up with a pretty tough mom. She was a self-appointed neighborhood watchdog, and if she saw that any of the local boys were up to no good, she would scold them on the spot. Although she is only 5 feet 2, she was famous in our neighborhood for intimidating men three times her size and getting them to do the right thing.

— Hanna Rosin

Jonathan Maberry Quotes: Id put two 45 slugs in him from fifteen
I'd put two .45 slugs in him from fifteen feet. Pretty much does the trick. If it doesn't then your only logical ammunition upgrade is Kryptonite. But

— Jonathan Maberry

Torrie Wilson Quotes: This sounds really lame but im pretty
This sounds really lame, but I'm pretty proud of my feet.

— Torrie Wilson

I just sing. But I have a fun hobby: I love to do archery. I'm pretty good on target. I'm not sure about the distances - maybe only 7 or 10 feet, so far, but I've scored the bull's eye several times, but usually always hit the target.

— Jackie Evancho

And then the Jamaican guy pulls out the sauce. "It be opening doors to other worlds, mon," he days. We made him do it first, saw that he didn't die. It seemed to make him pretty happy and then - Dave, the guy, I know I didn't really see this, but the guy shrunk himself, made himself three feet tall. We all laughed our asses off, then he was back to normal again.'
And you still tried that shit?'
Are you kidding? How could I not?

— David Wong

My favorite body part? My feet. They're not pretty, but they get me where I want to go.

— Patricia Heaton

The viscountess had raised the forefinger of her right hand and made a pretty gesture toward a stool at her feet. There was such intense tyrannical passion in the gesture that the marquis relinquished the doorknob and came back.

— Honoré De Balzac

Luck," Jeremy scoffed softly. "There's no luck."
"Then what?"
"Your feet take you where you need to be."
I thought about this. "My feet have taken me to some pretty rough places."
"That was your dick, dragging your feet along with.

— Maggie Stiefvater

I'm very expressive.
i deserve to feel pretty.
i kissed the blarney stone.
i am strong. i am brave.
im a good friend. I'm a good sister. I'm a good wife. i am a good in-law. I'm a good daughter. i am a good niece. I'm a good beagle mother. i am a good granddaughter.
i work hard for it, honey.
im superfly TNT motherfucker.
im a pilot of the airwaves.
im a better third baseman that brooks robinson.
I B-E-A-G-G-R-E-S-S-I-V-E.
i have exceptionally beautiful feet, eyes, ears, hips, hair, teeth, breasts. and shoulders. and fingernails. in a different pen, she added, and eyelashes and eyebrows, plus in yet another pen, and nose. and chin.

— Rob Sheffield

Lilliana turned around slowly. "What happened? You seemed so relaxed and happy when we were in the desert, like you were a normal person and not the Grim Reaper. Now you're extra ... reapy."
She cleared her throat. "Also, you've sprouted horns."
Of course he had.
She eyed him like he was a rabid hellhound, and when her gaze dropped to his feet, he barked, "What are you doing?" "Checking for hooves."
He was pretty sure his horns grew larger. So did his dick. Irritation that he couldn't control his own body, let alone his emotions, pissed him off even more. Made him ... as she put it, extra reapy.

— Larissa Ione

Karen Chance Quotes: I didnt really want to talk id wanted
I didn't really want to talk. I'd wanted him there, but I asn't sure why. Maybe just to have someone to drink with. Actually, that sounded pretty good at the moment. I sat on the seat of the chaise and he sat on the foot, and we just drank at each other for a while.
After a few minutes, he leaned back against the railing, like maybe he wanted a backrest, and I shifted my feet over to make room. But I guess I didn't shift far enough, because a large, warm hand covered my right foot, adjusting it slightly. And then it just stayed there, like he'd forgotten to remove it.
I looked at it. Pritkin's hands were oddly refined compared to the rest of him: strong but long fingered, with elegant bones and short-clipped nails. They always looked like they'd wandered off from some fine gentleman, one they'd probably like to get back to, because God knew they weren't getting a manicure while attached to him.

— Karen Chance

Kenneth Grahame Quotes: It was a pretty sight and a seasonable
It was a pretty sight, and a seasonable one, that met their eyes when they flung the door open. In the fore-court, lit by the dim rays of a horn lantern, some eight or ten little field-mice stood in a semicircle, red worsted comforters round their throats, their fore-paws thrust deep into their pockets, their feet jigging for warmth. With bright beady eyes they glanced shyly at each other, sniggering a little, sniffing and applying coat-sleeves a good deal. As the door opened, one of the elder ones that carried the lantern was just saying, "Now then, one, two, three!" and forthwith their shrill little voices uprose on the air, singing one of the old-time carols that their forefathers composed in fields that were fallow and held by frost, or when snow-bound in chimney corners, and handed down to be sung in the miry street to lamp-lit windows at Yule-time.

— Kenneth Grahame

There was no way that these guys were going to let a bleeding, barefoot woman simply wander off alone into the streets. Two of them were already running toward her with hands reaching out in a manner that, in normal circumstances, would have seemed just plain ungentlemanly. What would have been designated, in a Western office, as a hostile environment was soon in full swing as numerous rough strong hands were all over her, easing her to a comfortable perch on a chair that was produced as if by magic, feeling through her hair to find bumps and lacerations. Three different first aid kits were broken open at her feet; older and wiser men began to lodge objections at the profligate use of supplies, darkly suggesting that it was all because she was a pretty girl. A particularly dashing young man skidded up to her on his knees (he was wearing hard-shell knee pads) and, in an attitude recalling the prince on the final page of Cinderella, fit a pair of used flip-flops onto her feet.

— Neal Stephenson

What's all this, I expect you're thinking, about "the tallest mountain in the world"? Everest, surely, deserves at least an honourable mention in this category? Well, it all depends on your point of view. Certainly, Everest stands a sturdy 29,028 feet above sea level, which is, in its way, impressive. But if you were going to climb Everest, you would probably start, fi you were using a reliable guide, somewhere in the Himalayas. Anywhere in the Himalayas is pretty damn high to start with, and so, to hear some people tell it, it's just a smartish jog to do the last little bit to the actual top of Everest. The way to keep it interesting these days is to do it without oxygen or in your underpants or something.

— Douglas Adams

Except that wasn't all. The real fun began when a kite was cut. That was where the kite runners came in, those kids who chased the windblown kite drifting through the neighborhoods until it came spiraling down in a field, dropping in someone's yard, on a tree or a rooftop. The chase got pretty fierce; hordes of kite runners swarmed the streets, shoved past each other like those people from Spain I'd read about once, the ones who ran from the bulls. One year a neighborhood kid climbed a pine tree for a kite. A branch snapped under his weight and he fell thirty feet. Broke his back and never walked again. But he fell with the kite still in his hands. And when a kite runner has his hands on a kite, no one could take it from him. That wasn't a rule. That was a custom.

— Khaled Hosseini

Grover wore his fake feet and his pants to pass as human. He wore a green rasta-style cap, because when it rained his curly hair flattened and you could just see the tips of his horns. His bright orange backpack was full of scrap metal and apples to snack on. In his pocket was a set of reed pipes his daddy goat had carved for him, even though he only knew two songs: Mozart's Piano Concerto no. 12 and Hilary Duff's "So Yesterday," both of which sounded pretty bad on reed pipes.

— Rick Riordan

Jaume Collet-Serra Quotes: Its hard to do a camera inside of a car
It's hard to do a camera inside of a car. Non-Stop would have been impossible. Usually modern lenses you can focus up to the lens pretty much, but anamorphic you can't. You need like three feet.

— Jaume Collet-Serra

That is a gift to have four weeks to rehearse something. But remember, when you're doing a play half of that time you're getting to know the play and the other actors and then finally in the third week you have it pretty much on its feet. So it's all relative in different ways.

— Jeff Fahey

Donald Barthelme Quotes: Naked girls with the heads of marx and
Naked girls with the heads of Marx and Malraux prone and helpless in the glare of the headlights, tried to give them a little joie de vivre but maybe it didn't take, their constant bickering and smallness, it's like a stroke of lightning, the world reminds you of its power, tracheotomies right and left, I am spinning, my pretty child, don't scratch, pick up your feet, the long nights, spent most of my time listening, this is a test of the system, this is only a test.

— Donald Barthelme

Eratosthenes's only tools were sticks, eyes, feet, and brains; plus a zest for experiment. With those tools he correctly deduced the circumference of the Earth, to high precision, with an error of only a few percent. That's pretty good figuring for 2200 years ago.

— Carl Sagan

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