Category: touching
Quotes of Category: touching
In The GarretFour little chests all in a row,Dim with dust, and worn by time,All fashioned and filled, long ago,By children now in their prime.Four little keys hung side by side,With faded ribbons, brave and gayWhen fastened there, with childish pride,Long ago, on a rainy day.Four little names, one on each lid,Carved out by a boyish hand,And underneath there lieth hidHistories of the happy bandOnce playing here, and pausing oftTo hear the sweet refrain,That came and went on the roof aloft,In the falling summer rain.'Meg' on the first lid, smooth and fair.I look in with loving eyes,For folded here, with well-known care,A goodly gathering lies,The record of a peaceful life--Gifts to gentle child and girl,A bridal gown, lines to a wife,A tiny shoe, a baby curl.No toys in this first chest remain,For all are carried away,In their old age, to join againIn another small Meg's play.Ah, happy mother! Well I knowYou hear, like a sweet refrain,Lullabies ever soft and lowIn the falling summer rain.'Jo' on the next lid, scratched and worn,And within a motley storeOf headless dolls, of schoolbooks torn,Birds and beasts that speak no more,Spoils brought home from the fairy groundOnly trod by youthful feet,Dreams of a future never found,Memories of a past still sweet,Half-writ poems, stories wild,April letters, warm and cold,Diaries of a wilful child,Hints of a woman early old,A woman in a lonely home,Hearing, like a sad refrain--'Be worthy, love, and love will come,'In the falling summer rain.My Beth! the dust is always sweptFrom the lid that bears your name,As if by loving eyes that wept,By careful hands that often came.Death canonized for us one saint,Ever less human than divine,And still we lay, with tender plaint,Relics in this household shrine--The silver bell, so seldom rung,The little cap which last she wore,The fair, dead Catherine that hungBy angels borne above her door.The songs she sang, without lament,In her prison-house of pain,Forever are they sweetly blentWith the falling summer rain.Upon the last lid's polished field--Legend now both fair and trueA gallant knight bears on his shield,'Amy' in letters gold and blue.Within lie snoods that bound her hair,Slippers that have danced their last,Faded flowers laid by with care,Fans whose airy toils are past,Gay valentines, all ardent flames,Trifles that have borne their partIn girlish hopes and fears and shames,The record of a maiden heartNow learning fairer, truer spells,Hearing, like a blithe refrain,The silver sound of bridal bellsIn the falling summer rain.Four little chests all in a row,Dim with dust, and worn by time,Four women, taught by weal and woeTo love and labor in their prime.Four sisters, parted for an hour,None lost, one only gone before,Made by love's immortal power,Nearest and dearest evermore.Oh, when these hidden stores of oursLie open to the Father's sight,May they be rich in golden hours,Deeds that show fairer for the light,Lives whose brave music long shall ring,Like a spirit-stirring strain,Souls that shall gladly soar and singIn the long sunshine after rain book-quotesisterstouchingForget 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 and the front seats don't give us enough room. Before I know it, we've moved to the backseat. Still not ideal, but I hardly notice.I'm so getting into her moans and kisses and hands in my hair. And the smell of vanilla cookies. I'm not going to push her too far tonight. But without thinking, my hand slowly moves up her bare thigh."It feels so good," she says breathlessly.I lean her back while my hands explore on their own. My lips caress the hollow of her neck as I ease down the strap to her dress and bra. In response, she unbuttons my shirt. When it's open, her fingers roam over my chest and shoulders, searing my skin."You're . . . perfect," she pants.Right now I'm not gonna argue with her. Moving lower, my tongue follows a path down to her silky skin exposed to the night air. She grabs the back of my hair, urging me on. She tastes so damn good. Too good. I pull away a few inches and capture her gaze with mine, those shining sapphires glowing with desire. Talk about perfect."I want you, I say, my voice hoarse. book-quotekissingspanishtouchingI'm willing to find out what this thing is going on between us. Are you?""If we weren't outside," he says, "I'd show you--"I cut him off by grabbing the thick hair at the base of his neck and pulling that gorgeous head of his down. If we can't exactly have privacy right now, I'll settle for being real. Besides, everyone who we need to keep this a secret from is in school.Alex keeps his hands at his side, but when I part my lips, he groans against my mouth and his wrench drops to the ground with a loud clink.His strong hands wrap around me, making me feel protected. His velvet tongue mingles with mine, creating an unfamiliar melting sensation deep within my body. This is more than making out, it's . . . well, it feels like a lot more.His hands never stop moving; one circles my back while the other plays with my hair.Alex isn't the only one exploring. My hands are roving all over him, feeling his muscles tense beneath my hands and heightening my awareness of him. I touch his jaw and the roughness of a day's growth scratches my skin book-quotemorekissingtouching
