Quotes About Poppet

#1. He couldn't have moved quicker if he had been the dachshund Poppet, who at this juncture was running round in circles, trying, if I read his thoughts aright, to work off the rather heavy lunch he had had earlier in the afternoon.

P.G. Wodehouse

#2. him a huge smile. "Where's Daddy, poppet?

Megan Isaacs

#3. She leans forward and kisses him, not on the cheek, as she has a handful of times before, but on the lips, and Bailey knows in that moment that he will follow her anywhere. Poppet

Erin Morgenstern

#4. Have you tried the cinnamon things?" Poppet asks. "They're rather new. What are they called, Widge?"
"Fantastically delicious cinnamon things?

Erin Morgenstern

#5. Branches moved and shadows shifted as Lilith dug the poppet's final grave.

Georgina Anne Taylor

#6. Sorry, poppet," I tell Aoife. "I was miles away." "No, you weren't. You're right here." "I was miles away metaphorically." "What's meta ... frickilly?" "The opposite of literally." "What's litter-lily?" "The opposite of metaphorically." Aoife pouts. "Be serious, Daddy.

David Mitchell

#7. My lovely little poppet,
Your breakfast awaits you in the kitchen.
Last evening was magical and I am most excited to repeat it this eve.
I will dream of you.
~ Sinjin

H.P. Mallory

#8. You shall be my pet, and my poppet, and my dearest little duck all the days of your life.

Anthony Trollope

#9. I ain't going to kiss ye, poppet. Just keep still like a good little lad.

Bey Deckard

#10. That man has no shadow," he says, as Chandresh leans over the twins to peer out the window at the empty street.
"what did you say?" Chandresh asks, but Poppet and Widget, and the orange kittens have already run off down the hall, lost in the colorful crowd.

Erin Morgenstern

#11. I couldn't have made a better shot, if I had been one of those detectives who see a chap walking along the street and deduce that he is a retired manufacturer of poppet valves named Robinson with rheumatism in one arm, living at Clapham.

P.G. Wodehouse

#12. I have always been by your side, poppet, and so shall I always remain.

H.P. Mallory

#13. Is it not that bad to be trapped somewhere, then? Depending on where you're trapped?"
"I suppose it depends on how much you like the place you're trapped in," Widget says.
"And how much you like whoever you're stuck there with," Poppet adds, kicking his black boot with her white one.

Erin Morgenstern

#14. Nothing's impossible, Poppet responds. She smiles at him and jumps, her red hair trailing out behind her as she falls.

Erin Morgenstern

#15. But this is your home'
'Not any longer, my poppet. Women make nests but men make bequests and scatter them. Heigh-ho!

Joan Aiken

#16. Are you the dart?" he said. "Are you the knife? The fuse?" She said (though he wasn't convinced): "My deane, my poppet, I am too green to walk into a public place and do something bad ...

Gregory Maguire

#17. I tried to explain as much as I could," Poppet says. "I think I made an analogy about cake."
"Well, that must have worked," Widget says. "Who doesn't like a good cake analogy?

Erin Morgenstern

#18. Let's get to what we came for," Vlad said, his brusque tone reminding Ian that he wasn't a fan of sightseeing.
Ian sighed. "Always straight to business. How you stand it, poppet, I'll never know, but I suspect that fiery tongue has something to do with it. [...]

Jeaniene Frost

#19. look here you old, painted hussy! I am neither a tart, a trollop, nor am I a strumpet! I am a lady of refined breeding and culture, so bugger off, before this little poppet pops you one in that ugly, wrinkled mug!

L.T. Suzuki

#20. He's lighting up my life and I don't even know his name. He's already perfect.

Poppet

#21. I've known you forever, and you are only just remembering me.

Poppet

#22. A shade slinks over me and I'm caught off guard when he leans down, placing a blossom in my cleavage, his face shadowed and secretive.

Poppet

#23. In truth the issue is that we are so powerful what we believe becomes our reality.

Poppet

#24. Turning away, sobbing, I hide behind my hair, the kettle and coffee forgotten. It's too hard to talk about it. I can't talk about it. It's no one's business but mine. The trauma breathes in my blood, it feasts on my life, it gives me cold sweats and nightmares still.

Poppet

#25. Like opium, nerve annihilation stretches up my veins to pump incinerating anguish through my body.

Poppet

#26. Kissing her again, softly, I leave my t-shirt next to her pillow.
It's the silent promise that I'll come back again tonight.

Poppet

#27. When the archeologists find this place they'll destroy history. Mankind will attempt to bury this information but we will ensure there is a leak. Intel this valuable makes insignificant fame starved humans grand masters of legend.Secrets are best retold to hungry ears.

Poppet

#28. A man who is obviously too handsome for his own good smiles at me. His eyes are mischievous, as if he's harboring wicked thoughts and is tempted to subject me to them.
I hold his dark gaze for a moment too long, and then pin my focus back on the

Poppet

#29. In a perfect patch of paradise he stays immobile for an eternity while the predawn breath strokes his skin and kisses each vertebrae down his spine.

Poppet

#30. Biting a plump bottom lip, I stare into endless irises open and poised over my own. Sliding my hand up her thigh, under her gown, I pull her closer with the hand cupping her hipbone, releasing the growl of a king caught in delight.

Poppet

#31. I do so love the art of severing boundaries

Poppet

#32. Aye, he smiles, joy igniting in his stormy gray eyes, stroking my hand possessively as if unwilling to let me go for fear I am nothing more than a hallucination about to wear off.

Poppet

#33. Yanking at my leg, straining every muscle, my customized Gray Ghost rebuilt as a chopper sparks and squeals.
My boot catches and I'm flipped. Sliding down E-70 Highway on leather, my gloves scrubbed by the tarmac.

Poppet

#34. You failed her when you turned your back on what you are.

Poppet

#35. I'm in a bastard mood, so wait for her to come to me without moving. Here kitty kitty, come to the lion's den.

Poppet

#36. I'll email you, he says as if he's asking me into the cellar to taste his vintage champagne.

Poppet

#37. He gives me the stare that only men can do. The mouth tightening exasperation stare.

Poppet

#38. The problem with all of you is you think in isolation instead of realizing we are one community, when one of us falls, we all fall.

Poppet

#39. It shatters the game, exposing the players

Poppet

#40. Just once, he looks back at Arsay, and I feel like an entire encyclopedia of information and words is exchanged between them. I wish I could speak telepathy too.

Poppet

#41. How shall I ever learn who I am when there is so much of me that belongs to someone else?

Madeline Claire Franklin

#42. Who are you?
Your angel. Vengeance.

Poppet

#43. In my darkest hour she answered my call without resentment or guilt, without hesitation

Poppet

#44. She never even wore stockings; just those bullet proof tights that you see on old maids.

Poppet

#45. Who knows what real really is...

Poppet

#46. There's a time and a place for everything. ... Yes. This is my time and you are in my place.

Poppet

#47. Lady, you have just become a wanted woman. I suggest you start running.

Poppet

#48. Now now Ellindt, you know I love it when you beg." Chuckling silently, every jolt from my hold causes her hands pulsating pain, and I bend to speak intimately into her ear again, "But I love it more when you scream.

Poppet

#49. Holding my hands, kissing the palms, his smile is ecstatic, jubilant, adoring, and the song playing speaks for him, Have you ever seen the light ... the way it shines in you.

Poppet

#50. For why war? Nada ne hurt, sister ne hurt, for why you make vesna sore? For why!

Poppet

#51. We've been here before. She knows I won't stop until she screams. Her pride won't let her scream until she's on the cusp of death.

Poppet

#52. The telltale clenching of hands into fists is all the invitation I need as I close the gap to hound his personal space.
Suck on my aura you spineless shit!

Poppet

#53. Eyes darker than a midnight lake penetrate my thoughts with their intensity, and a big hand warmly covers mine

Poppet

#54. It destroys and resurrects in equal measure. It's paradigm shifting. The man I was before Nada has perished and left a changeling who is lost in the delicate art of awe and humble appreciation.

Poppet

#55. Hold tight, and I promise to do the same. We don't need a safety net Zena. We have each other.

Poppet

#56. I quite enjoy the banter actually. I mean, you don't meet many females who can come back at you as fast as you can throw it out at them. I prefer a more graphic dialogue as a forerunner to sex though: if they have the guts to spell it out for me in glorious Technicolor that always gets my interest.

Poppet

#57. God bless you butterfly, because now I'm claiming you like no mate has ever been claimed in the history of our kind

Poppet

#58. He turns back to me, a strong hand swooping down and sculpting hair off my face, familiar looking arms curling back around me and cradling me into a chest harder and hotter than a mountain left baking in the Australian outback.

Poppet

#59. Stapled to her gaze, sucked into the potency of her focus, only the trace of her blood in my mouth reassures me this is not a vision but a hallucinogenic pause from responsibility.

Poppet

#60. And you had to do that in a thunderstorm pissing down like a camel?

Poppet

#61. Oh baby, your planet sounds like paradise but it just doesn't fly down here in the trenches.

Poppet

#62. The sun sets, the strange clouds glowing eerily like a full moon laced with arsenic and occult warnings.
Eternity stretches out her mocking red carpet, hinting at the long lonely walk of regret I have ahead of me.

Poppet

#63. An innocent smile skates closer with her movement, walking fingers up my stomach to halt over my heart, "Mate, you." She nods, as if declaring this is easy and absolute.

Poppet

#64. Rubbing absently at my temple, I do declare this woman leaves me flabbergasted and tongue tied.

Poppet

#65. I'm the riddle you have yet to solve

Poppet

#66. Facing him as I lower the glass from my lips, he's giving me one of those intense moonlit stares.

Poppet

#67. To sore make bad energy, make innocent cry, Aisyx no spread pain plague.

Poppet

#68. Pushing himself off the bed in a violent thrust, his lats widen like wings down his sides, where his waistcoat is open halfway to his waist to accommodate muscular builds, he indicates the gilded cage with outstretched arms. Showing off his supreme musculature, he says, We have forever Phoebe.

Poppet

#69. Because I thought you were a dirty angel, but you fell before you had a choice. The dirt wasn't yours.

Poppet

#70. The closer she hip sways to me, the taller and tenser I stand, until I'm so rigid my muscles ache.

Poppet

#71. Running my fingers into his thick hair, I wallow in the strength and heat surrounding me before he pulls away, giving me such a happy smile it makes my heart rattle inside my chest. There's nothing better in this whole world than to be held in someone's loving stare. A stare they reserve for you.

Poppet

#72. Fear only has power when I cower under the illusion.

Poppet

#73. She's so caught up she's unaware she's no longer the prisoner here, I am

Poppet

#74. Alone in the dark all we have are the supernal lights in each others eyes left to illuminate the room, the only sound our breathing.

Poppet

#75. He follows me down, catching his weight on either side of my head so he can leer his face into mine, coiling muscles and immobility at me, I want you to lay into me. Fight me.

Poppet

#76. I'm not a man easily moved to displays of emotion, but tonight I am weak, I am vulnerable. It must be from being inside her, so close to her, breathing in her pain, and love, and light, and blossoming vulnerable beauty

Poppet

#77. I loathe being crimped into this deplorable position on the vampyre chessboard.

Poppet

#78. You can only push me so far little slakax, and then I will do what has to be done, with or without your permission.

Poppet

#79. Phoebe, don't play coy. If you were willing to give a peeping Tom a show, and you thought you were doing it for my benefit, then let's cut the pretend out of this and shoot straight for cold hard honesty

Poppet

#80. How awful is it to be sane enough to be fully aware of the day you realize you are completely losing your grasp on reality. I'm crazy. Not just a little bit, but rubber room ready out of my mind fucked up.

Poppet

#81. His touch cable knits my veins, remaking and remolding who I am.

Poppet

#82. Levelling my stare at him I drop a hint like a penny into a well, You mentioned you were tied up. Win, you should have reserved that privilege for me.

Poppet

#83. He sits next to me, the veins on his neck and arms seeming more prominent than they did earlier. His mouth compresses, igniting his eyes with esoteric light, pulling me into the magnetic undertow.

Poppet

#84. I don't know what's in the water but chivalrous men seem to be landing here along with the weird lights in the sky and nine coloured rainbows. They said the end of the world was close, I just didn't expect men with manners to be part of the equation

Poppet

#85. Guys like you would try to shag the button hole in a fur coat.

Poppet

#86. Eve is married to my credit card, not me

Poppet

#87. Free your mind, Jowendrhan. A cage is only a cage as long as you believe it is.

Poppet

#88. You are my flower and I am your stem holding you to the light.

Poppet

#89. He's a contradiction and that's why he's so perfect.

Poppet

#90. He just clamps his lips over mine and sticks his tongue so far into my mouth I feel like I'm being examined by the ENT gynae

Poppet

#91. He should always wear jeans because they make him look hotter than a nebula. Black suits him too. It hugs to his muscular vales and swells, turning temptation into sexy man therapy.

Poppet

#92. The answer to my thoughts is the loud ripping of my shirt when he tears it straight down my back, yanking it forward around my shoulders and imprisoning my arms in the sleeves.
"I've got you now," he says, breaking the kiss and sounding like a god about to unleash wrath.

Poppet

#93. Do not feed fear. Starve it.

Poppet

#94. Every footfall of my boots echoes and ricochets louder and louder, the excruciating stroll I take induces her heartbeat into pecking so hard and erratic, my dick starts hurting with an anticipatory throb.

Poppet

#95. If you fuck like your eyes do, your wife must be one delighted lady.

Poppet

#96. She shakes her head, fisting hands into my t-shirt and sobbing into my neck. And all I can think about is how good this feels

Poppet

#97. He puts his arm around me, the lights dancing on his dark skin constantly skipping across to mine, planting a myriad of emotions into each pore as if preparing my heart for tilling.

Poppet

#98. She wears those old fashioned pj's like body armour. Going to bed these days is like wresting with Kevlar.

Poppet

#99. The soy is seeping through the material like a BP oil slick in a Louisiana swamp.

Poppet

#100. Complacency leads to redundancy

Poppet