Wet As Sayings

#1. His muscles glistened, wet as if he'd just swum a great distance. To his side, he carried a massive Shardblade, point down, sticking about a finger's width into the stone, his hand on the hilt. The Blade reflected torchlight; it was long, narrow, and straight, shaped like an enormous spike.

Brandon Sanderson

#2. The air was hot and wet, as if it had absorbed the sweat of countless bodies. It dripped also with scandal.

Monica Ali

#3. Ah! how little knowledge does a man acquire in his life. He gathers it up like water, but like water it runs between his fingers, and yet, if his hands be but wet as though with dew, behold a generation of fools call out, 'See, he is a wise man!' Is it not so?

H. Rider Haggard

#4. Because there's nothing like the feel of a woman's body under mine, all tight and hot and wet as she slowly comes apart.

Anne Calhoun

#5. The sea was wet as wet could be,
The sands were dry as dry.
You could not see a cloud, because
No cloud was in the sky:
No birds were flying overhead -
There were no birds to fly.

Lewis Carroll

#6. Violence is so terribly fast ... the most perverse thing about the movies is the way they portray it in slow motion, allowing it to be something sensuous ... the viewer's lips slightly wet as the scene plays out. Violence is nothing like that. It is lightning fast, chaotic, and totally intangible.

Jim Carroll

#7. He lowers his head while we're flying and touches his lips to mine. His kiss is hot and wet as it intensifies.

Susan Ee

#8. And then the door burst open.
Alucard stood in the doorway, soaking wet, as if he'd just been dumped in the sea, or the sea had been dumped over him. "Stop fucking with the ship.

V.E Schwab

#9. I heard you went to Ireland ... I haven't seen it in many years. Is it still green then, and beautiful?
Wet as a bath sponge and mud to the knees but, aye, it was green enough.

Diana Gabaldon

#10. A drunk man, staggering and mindless, must be led home by his son, so wet is his psyche ... Water brings death to the psyche, as earth brings death to water ... The psyche lusts to be wet.

Heraclitus

#11. Memories of our childhood are like images painted on a wet canvas, they merge until they lose all shape, often remaing only as feelings.

Brian Mynott

#12. I don't know . . . there's just something about him. You radiate joy and sunshine, and he seems like more of a wet blanket who wants all the attention for himself. Everyone loves you here. I'm just looking out for you," she shares apologetically as she comfortingly cups Julie's hand.

Sheri Fink

#13. Though the rain had pitter-pattered, then pelted the carriages during the drive had stopped, the ground was wet and boggy, sucking at feet as though hoping to keep anyone from ever leaving the estate.

Jessica Lawson

#14. When the desire ain't on me I don't need help. When it is on me I don't want any. See? Like the old fellah that never mended his roof. Said on a wet day he couldn't do it and on a dry day it was as good as anybody's.

Agnes Sligh Turnbull

#15. Stay put and you will remain as such. Jump in and you might get wet. Dive and you might find true happiness.

Carol Vorvain

#16. As surely as Water will wet us, as surely as Fire will burn,
The Gods of the Copybook Headings with terror and slaughter return!

Rudyard Kipling

#17. In 1990, when I had just arrived in New York City as a wet-behind-the-ears 20-something girl from Arizona, I spent a year or more working as the personal secretary and secret ghostwriter to an American-born countess in her apartment on the Upper East Side.

Kate Christensen

#18. I can hear, underground, that sucking and sobbing, In my veins, in my bones I feel it,- The small water seeping upward, The tight grains parting at last. When sprouts break out, Slippery as fish, I quail, lean to beginnings, sheath-wet.

Theodore Roethke

#19. And the earth itself. It smells different in different places. But its loveliest fragrance is known only when it receives a shower of rain. and then the scent of the wet earth rises as though it would give something beautiful back to the clouds. A blend of all the fragrant things that grow upon it.

Ruskin Bond

#20. The sky was dark and gloomy, the air was damp and raw, the streets were wet and sloppy. The smoke hung sluggishly above the chimney-tops as if it lacked the courage to rise, and the rain came slowly and doggedly down, as if it had not even the spirit to pour.

Charles Dickens

#21. A dark hand had let go its lifelong hold upon her heart. But she did not feel joy, as she had in the mountains. She put her head down in her arms and cried, and her cheeks were salt and wet. She cried for the waste of her years in bondage to a useless evil. She wept in pain, because she was free.

Ursula K. Le Guin

#22. Some are nice and some aren't. Some are smart, and others are about as bright as a wet match in a dark cave. In other words, pretty normal.

Lisa Kleypas

#23. She watched as a beer truck lumbered by with a clink of quivering warm, wet promises.

William Peter Blatty

#24. As an addict I take everything as a sign from God. It was pouring on about eight million people but I was the only one getting wet.

Jackson Galaxy

#25. He is a boy sleeping against the mosque wall, ejaculates wet dreaming into a thousand cunts pink and smooth as sea shells ...

William S. Burroughs

#26. Is this your soap?" "It is," Val answered, sitting on the bed and watching as St. Just dunked to wet his hair. "Do the honors. I am going smell like a bordello when I get out of this bath." "You will smell like a gentleman.

Grace Burrowes

#27. MATTIE FAE: I'm still very sexy, thank you very much. VIOLET: You're about as sexy as a wet cardboard box, Mattie Fae, you and me both. Don't kid yourself.

Tracy Letts

#28. ... leaning with her back bowed into the back of the chair, her head hanging down and her hands in her lap, very miserable as she would say herself, not even knowing what she would like, except to go out and get very wet, catch a particularly nice cold and have to go to bed and take gruel.

George MacDonald

#29. Oh the thumb-sucker's thumb
May look wrinkled and wet
And withered, and white as the snow,
But the taste of a thumb
Is the sweetest taste yet
(As only we thumb-sucker's know).

Shel Silverstein

#30. Beth's fingers trembled in his hair, and her forehead dropped against his. A heavy, wet tear fell onto Lincoln's lips, and he licked it. He pulled her close, as close as he could. Like he didn't care for the moment whether she could breathe. Like there were two of them and only one parachute.

Rainbow Rowell

#31. We're all toys." Ophelia sat down in a huff. "Broken and misused and thrown away." Ophelia looked to him. Her eyes were big, wet, and clear like river water. In that stare her soul shone as the diamond bright sky. "May as well play for a little while.

Eva Natsumi

#32. He was cold and wet, but somehow he barely felt it. He kept remembering Rose snuggled against his chest, the feel of her body in his arms. He closed his eyes as he recalled the way she had looked at him, the way she said I love you.

Melanie Dickerson

#33. An Indian's dress of deer skins, which is wet a hundred times upon his back, dries soft; and his lodge also, which stands in the rains, and even through the severity of winter, is taken down as soft and as clean as when it was first put up.

George Catlin

#34. His lips, wet, met mine with a brush of heat. I felt both his hands wrap around my back, holding me to him as if he'd fall apart otherwise. While the rain pummeled the roof, the whole world went silent.

Kiera Cass

#35. Taking my drink, I moved around the bar to her. Her smile was a little crooked as I sat down. I guessed it had been a wet night for platinum blondes.

Michael McCretton

#36. A wet autumn morning, a garbage truck clattering down the street. The first snowfall of the season, blossom sized flakes falling languidly and melting on teh ground, a premature snow fall delicate as lace, rapidly melting.

Joyce Carol Oates

#37. His fingers fucked her slowly as he lowered his head and purred."Oh,so beautiful.So pink.Every inch of you cries for me.Eating your sweet pussy makes my cock cry too."
He covered her clit with his mouth and drew the bud into his wet heat,suckling it as he'd suckled her swollen tit.

Laura Wright

#38. Its mouth was wide and its teeth were wickedly pointed. He managed a brief "Hey!" and jerked away from the window ... just as the rat hit the glass with a furry, wet thump. It slid down to the alley one floor below, where it staggered around in stunned surprise.

Michael Scott

#39. He continued holding her but slid her soft frame down his body until her lips were even with his. She wound her hands through his hair, her hot mouth tasting his as their breaths mingled. Much hotter breath blew on his cheek, followed by a knicker and a wet nose.

Abigail Sharpe

#40. It is the characteristic of great poems that they will yield of their sense in due proportion to the hasty and the deliberate reader. To the practical they will be common sense, and to the wise wisdom; as either the traveler may wet his lips, or an army may fill its water-casks at a full stream.

Henry David Thoreau

#41. The truth, when finally revealed, is sticky like wet dough. The majority of it stays in place as one handles it, but pieces break off and adhere, making certain facts seem larger, more portentous, than others.

Angela Flournoy

#42. Are you wet for me?"
"Oh, f**k, sunshine, you are so wet."
"I am wound too tight Becca. Do you understand? in about ten seconds, I'm going to be all over you. And I'm not going to be able to go slow. It's gonna be hard and fast and rough.

Laura Kaye

#43. The simple, stupefying truth that, as a woman, I am a minute ocean, in the dark tropic of whose womb eggs lay coded as roe, floating in the sea that wet-nursed us all, moved me deeply.

Diane Ackerman

#44. With two hours until her mother picked her up, Janey was alone, woozy and heart-swollen in the downtown, wandering wet streets that gleamed as you would have them gleam in the sweet summer film of your life.

Wells Tower

#45. lip. She jammed her hands in his wet hair as Lucas spun, setting

Terri Osburn

#46. Hell is a swamp, to me - not as something fiery, but as something dank, moist, and wet.

Avey Tare

#47. Shotgun!" announced Clary as Jace came back around the side of the van.
Alec grabbed for his bow, strapped across his back. "Where?"
"She means she wants the front seat," said Jace, pushing wet hair out of his eyes.

Cassandra Clare

#48. Every child begins the world again, to some extent, and loves to stay outdoors, even in wet and cold. It plays house, as well as horse, having an instinct for it ... At last we know not what it is to live in the open air, and our lives are domestic in more senses than we think.

Henry David Thoreau

#49. Men say," Liz reaches for her scissors, "'I can't endure it when women cry'
just as people say, 'I can't endure this wet weather.' As if it were nothing to do with the men at all, the crying. Just one of those things that happen.

Hilary Mantel

#50. Two seeds destined to grow in concert, planted together in the field of love.'" She took in a lungful of air and continued. "'The sky cast wet buckets of dreams and desires, the roots took shape, and the leaves tangled as one.

Christina Lee

#51. To go to the wine house and not to get drunk is as difficult as to dive into a pool and not get wet!

Mehmet Murat Ildan

#52. Wherever you are," he said low and steady as I wrote his name, knee to crotch, "I own you. I own your filthy mouth. I own your dirty mind. When you get wet thinking about fucking, it's mine. Every drop from you. I own your every thought. You are my property.

C.D. Reiss

#53. The landing stage stood on its high crooked stilts with only one person watching the boat disappear round the bend of the river - a girl of twelve called Ada, the wet-nurse's eldest child. As

Jane Gardam

#54. Echo turned and her smoldering emerald eyes drifted to my bare chest. She licked her lips. "You 're still wet."
She wanted me-just not as badly as every throbbing muscle in my body wanted her.

Katie McGarry

#55. Nothing goes so well with a hot fire and buttered crumpets as a wet day without and a good dose of comfortable horrors within. The heavier the lashing of the rain and the ghastlier the details, the better the flavour seems to be.

Dorothy L. Sayers

#56. Mind-mother in Eddie's head spoke up at once, her voice as stern and commanding as the voice of a traffic cop: Don't you dare do it, Eddie! Don't you dare! Wet feet, that's one way - one of the thousands of ways - that colds start,

Stephen King

#57. The word conservative is used by the BBC as a portmanteau word of abuse for anyone whose views differ from the insufferable, smug, sanctimonious, naive, guilt-ridden, wet, pink orthodoxy of that sunset home of the third-rate minds of that third-rate decade, the nineteen-sixties.

Norman Tebbit

#58. I took a job at the pool in order to earn the five cents a day it cost to swim. I counted wet towels. As a bonus, I was allowed to swim during lunchtime.

Esther Williams

#59. I 'uz mos' to de foot er de islan' b'fo' I found' a good place. I went into de woods en jedged I wouldn' fool wid raffs no mo', long as dey move de lantern roun' so. I had my pipe en a plug er dog-leg, en some matches in my cap, en dey warn't wet, so I 'uz all right.

Mark Twain

#60. That night when I went to the bathroom I only pretended to brush my teeth, for I feared that I would somehow rinse the prayer out as well. I wet the brush and rearranged the tube of paste to prevent my parents from asking any questions, and feel asleep with sugar on my tongue.

Jhumpa Lahiri

#61. I grew up as a very sarcastic person. I was always the class clown, and to date girls, I had to be really funny. I was really skinny growing up. I was so thin, I had to run around in the shower to get wet. That kind of thin. So I always had to rely on humor and sarcasm.

Kurt Fuller

#62. We writers, as we work our way deeper into our craft, learn to drop more and more personal clues. Like burglars who secretly wish to be caught, we leave our fingerprints on broken locks, our voiceprints in bugged rooms, our footprints in the wet concrete.

Ross Macdonald

#63. It was nearly five before Jake walked in. He was sunburnt, wet, and smelled faintly of fish. Sexy as hell. Don't ask me to explain.

Josh Lanyon

#64. The foods that are recommended today are as palatable as a steady diet of wet blotters.

Groucho Marx

#65. Old people who live too long come to resemble turtles. As though time turned in a curve, and down they go to the reptiles again. Not the little wet naked frog they were born. But the tortoise. Cold eyes, sagging circles of skin, the nose becomes beak. The shell of sleep.

Josephine Winslow Johnson

#66. There it sat, perfect as a fresh-laid egg on the dead sea bottom, the only nucleus of light and warmth in hundreds of miles of lonely wasteland. It was like a heart beating alone in a great dark body. He felt almost sorrowful with pride, gazing at it with wet eyes.

Ray Bradbury

#67. Big Cyndi crossed the room with an agility that belied the bulk. She wrapped me in an embrace that made me feel as if I'd been mummified in wet attic insulation. In a good way.

Harlan Coben

#68. She smiled. "Oh, dear. All this and a sense of humor, too."
Apparently, no one had given him a compliment lately. He looked as if he'd been thrown a grenade. Or a wet kitten.

Tessa Dare

#69. There's a big luscious peach of a dream in L.A. The peach has been repeatedly exposed as overripe and tainted with wormholes... but it's still the only giant peach in town. Even if it's wet-brown and crawling with centipedes, everyone wants their bite.

Cintra Wilson

#70. To a Scot, the past clings like sand to wet feet,
and is carried about as a burden.
The many ghosts are always a part of them, inescapable.

Geddes MacGregor

#71. You might not thank me if it rains," he warned. "It wouldn't be the first time you've gotten me wet." She drew back as a strange look passed over Julian's face. "What's wrong?" "Nothing," he muttered through his teeth. "Absolutely nothing." ***

Victoria Vane

#72. Don't give a fuck if you're hot, wet and panting or pissed as hell, you're sleepin' by me, in my bed, at home. said Hector

Kristen Ashley

#73. Or if I truly gave up I could be like Wet Lindsay. When Robbie dumped her she got all pale and even wetter than normal. She was like an anoraksick. (A person who is both very thin and wears tragic anoraks.) I just made that up as a joke. Even though I am very upset I can still think of a joke.

Louise Rennison

#74. Nice kid, but as sharp as a bag of wet mice.

Johnny Stone

#75. Always listening, listening to the wet fluid speech with no order, unfinished stories, badly told jokes that he sober as a spider perfected in silence.

Michael Ondaatje

#76. No! Aguaje is for girls. If a man eats to much of it, he starts to look like a woman.

That is the most unscientific thing I've ever heard.

Then you haven't met my cousin Jacari. Too much aguaje. Now the mothers use him as wet nurse.

Jessica Khoury

#77. Every year it seems to me I hear complaints about spring. It is either "late" or "unusually cold," "abnormally dry" or "fantastically wet," for no one is ever willing to admit that there is no such thing as a normal spring.

Thalassa Cruso

#78. Just as if you put your finger into water, it will get wet, and if you put it into fire, it will burn, so if you invest your mind in the wisdom mind of the Buddhas, it will transform into their wisdom nature.

Sogyal Rinpoche

#79. As sure as water's wet and days are long and a friend will always disappoint you in the end.

Neil Gaiman

#80. Aquamarine is an airy blue with a dreamy feel. Cool and calming, ethereal Aquamarine is a shade with a wet and watery feel. Open and expansive, this restful blue also acts as a stress reducer.

Leatrice Eiseman

#81. The progress of the friendship between Catherine and Isabella was quick as its beginning had been warm ... and if a rainy morning deprived them of other enjoyments, they were still resolute in meeting in defiance of wet and dirt, and shut themselves up, to read novels together.

Jane Austen

#82. Conall checked his watch. Again. Soon his personal wet fantasy would be here. He wondered if it would be inappropriate to tackle her in the hallway as soon as she arrived and drag her up to his bedroom. Probably. Damn human etiquette.

Shelly Laurenston

#83. It was still very wet under the trees. A careless tug at a branch might flip cold rainbow-edged drops down your back. And the sky was gray as concrete. But they enjoyed the silence, the soft sucking ground matted with last year's needles.

Jean Thompson

#84. I left school on a wet Thursday afternoon, found a room in a shared house in North London, and started my first job on the following Monday as a courier for an advertising agency.

Christopher Fowler

#85. He'd been forced to reply on his charm. Which, as Cam would have put it, was like a wet cat trapped inside a plastic bag.

Lia Davis

#86. As they clean the walls with wet cloths and sponges, they uncover the earlier paints, most prevalent a stark blue that must have been inspired by Mary's blue robes. Renaissance painters could get that rare color only from ground lapis lazuli brought from quarries in what is now Afghanistan.

Frances Mayes

#87. Which meant they probably knew Alexander was as dangerous as a wet napkin.

Stuart Gibbs

#88. There was a brisk northern wind, heavy and wet with the salt of the sea, and he felt, as he turned his face to it, fresh life and strength surging in his blood and bracing his limbs.

Arthur Conan Doyle

#89. It's snowing." Rhys looked up at the light flakes that had started to drift down.
"Yes, it is." I grimaced as I got smacked in the eyeball with a large wet flake when I looked up.

Michelle Rowen

#90. I felt something wet trickle down the side of my face. I reached up and swiped the salty wetness away.
How quaint.
How very quaint.
Like believing some things last forever.
A tear. As if that could make a difference.

Mary E. Pearson

#91. In the pale light of the half moon, she sees him
opening the door, moving toward her
as if awake. He sits at the edge of the bed, tenderly stroking
her hair, inhaling deeply the heavy scent of
wet violets, the evening breeze along her arms

Adele Ne Jame

#92. It felt as if I was suddenly walking around in wet socks, weighing my feet down as if two kids were sitting on my feet with their legs wrapped around mine.

David Bowick

#93. The reelection of Bill Clinton is as secure as a double-knot tied in wet rawhide.

Dan Rather

#94. I wanted to start with a very small role, to get my feet wet. I'm sure I'm not as good or as experienced as other actresses, but everybody has to start somewhere.

Claudia Schiffer

#95. The earth's lungs, coated in green ooze and thaw, breathed out blossom-scent and sour rot and fungus-must, wet and warm and aware, where before the air had been cold and blind, remote as the moon.

Margo Lanagan

#96. Hey," I say as I rest the phone on my shoulder.
"Are you really dripping wet and wearing a tiny white towel?" he asks in a raspy low voice.
"Yes, I just got out of the shower."
"Good," he exhales into the line. "At least I don't have this raging hard-on for no reason.

Claire Contreras

#97. As I bicycle home, it starts to rain, cold, almost-snow kind of rain, and I'm glad. I can blame my wet cheeks on the rain.

Jenny Han

#98. It has started to snow. We all ran out when it began, and played at catching flakes as we used to when we were children. But it was cold, and our boots and gloves and cloaks were soon wet - you feel these things more when you are grown-up.

Natasha Farrant

#99. I'm a woman of lip gloss. Estee Lauder has an amazing lip gloss line. But I even go as far as to use some Wet 'n Wild, you know, old school! It's kind of like whatever works. I find that with lip gloss, there really is no difference in quality there.

Sufe Bradshaw

#100. I turn my head and stare out the casement window at the royal gardens instead, wet and slippery and dark as the center of a body, where the roses twitch an extinguished red.

Alexandra Kleeman