First Meeting Quotes

“The tapping grows insistent, and I turn, intending to tell off the Cadet. Instead, I'm faced with a slave-girl looking up at me through impossibly long eyelashes. A heated, visceral shock flares through me at the clarity of her dark gold eyes. For a second, I forget my name.
I've never seen her before, because if I had, I'd remember. Despite the heavy silver cuffs and high, painful-looking bun that mark all of Blackcliff's drudges, nothing about her says slave. Her black dress fits her like a glove, sliding over every curve in a way that makes more than one head turn. Her full lips and fine, straight nose would be the envy of most girls, Scholar or not. I stare at her, realize I'm staring, tell myself to stop staring, and then keep staring. My breath falters, and my body, traitor that is, tugs me forward until there are only inches between us.

“Asp-aspirant Veturius.”

It's the way she says my name—like it's something to fear—that brings me back to myself. Pull it together, Veturius. I step away, appalled at myself when I see the terror in her eyes.

“What is it?” I ask calmly.”
― Sabaa Tahir, An Ember in the Ashes

“The pair stood watching each other, still as statues, moments ticking by like hours as the gale howled about them.
"You have very good ears, sir." she finally said.
"You have better feet, Pale Daughter. I heard nothing."
"Then how?"
The boy offered a dimpled smile. "You stink of cigarillo smoke. Cloves, I think."
"That's impossible. I'm upwind from you."
The boy glanced at the shadows moving like snakes around his feet.
"Seems to be raining impossible in these parts.”
― Jay Kristoff, Nevernight

“Stacey was holding the throw pillow to her mouth now, and all that was visible were her huge, dark brown eyes. When she spoke, her voice was muffled."Who is that?"
I started to explain, but Cayman bowed in her direction extending his arm with a flourish."Only the most handsome and smartest and downright most charming demon there is."But I know that's a mouthful, so you can call me Cayman."
"Um." Her gaze darted around the room."Okay.”
― Jennifer L. Armentrout, Every Last Breath

“I still have that feeling the first time we met every time I see you.”
― Jayson Engay

“When I looked a little closer, I noticed a guy sitting in the dark, tapping his leg in slow, deliberate movements. His head was cast down, but his eyes...his eyes looked directly at me. My breath caught. I tried to focus on what was being said, but the penetrating gaze from the guy in shadows made my heart pound wildly. When my eyes found their way back to him, I noticed the scowl on his face and immediately looked away. My goodness, this was going to be a long meeting.”
― Maayan Nahmani, Underwater

“For as Molly looked at him, she felt an immediate … she didn’t know what. Despite her love of the language arts, she also possessed an analytic mind, and that mind straightaway tried to seek out the why. And it couldn’t unearth the reason apart from his smile. Or, rather, how he smiled at her—warm and full-armed, like the embrace from a long-absent friend, without the slightest trace of fakeness or concealed motive. His was the most open face she’d ever seen in her life. Concomitant with these sensations, all delivered within a split second, was a thought, seemingly originating not in her mind but from the center of her torso and radiating out to the ends of each nerve, inexplicable in its suddenness and surety. A thought that children and very young people might have, but never middle-aged adults, especially one with a divorce behind her and the conviction that she already knew the world and what it was able to offer. But there it was, undeniably, the thought: I’m on a great adventure.”
― Ray Smith, The Magnolia That Bloomed Unseen

“He was entrancing, with that epicene beauty which in extreme youth sings aloud for love and withers at the first cold wind.”
― Evelyn Waugh

“She cast her gaze over him, pausing on the pink, sparkly backpack slung over his shoulder. The sexy, adorable man. “I don’t think you bat for my team, sheriff.”
― Kelly Moran, Under Pressure

“It's no problem." He picked up a slip of paper and then glanced up. "Astronomy 101? I'm heading that way too."
Great. For the whole semester I'd have to see the guy I nearly killed in the hallway.”
― Jennifer L. Armentrout, Wait for You

“Hello,” he said, on his best behavior now. “I just wanted to smell you.”
“Oh.” Lines between her eyebrows, the tone of her voice making him want to close his eyes and just listen. “Do you sniff everyone you meet?”
Smiling inside at the curiosity she couldn’t quite hide, he said, “No.” He drew in her scent again, careful to make it appear he was simply breathing. “Only women.”
“Why?”
“I’m hunting my mate.”
― Nalini Singh, Archangel's Enigma

“He came into her life wearing a Syracuse ball cap and blue jeans that had holes in them.”
― J.R. Ward, The Shadows

“She had never seen anyone like him before in her life. The clothes he wore, the sound of his voice, the expression in his eys, all made her feel that she had had z moomentary glimpse into another world - and she longed passionately to see it again, if only for a brief while.”
― Kathleen Winsor, Forever Amber

“They were alike, they were. Both predators, both dangerous and both vain. And they each found the other fascinating.”
― Kady Cross, The Girl in the Steel Corset

“The first thing I noticed about her was that she had a smear of blue ink on her nose,' Vivi said. 'The second thing I noticed were her eyes, the colour of darkest amber. When she spoke, I was afraid she was talking to someone else.”
― Holly Black, The Lost Sisters

“Girl’s two green eyes peer out from behind a dark blue blanket. They do not stare directly at me.

Here hides Girl, existing as a cover name, like me.”
― Susan L. Marshall, Adira and the Dark Horse

“And then I saw her, who I could have only assumed with Aura Tsang, a very petite women, with the exotic features of those you associate with an Asian background complete with slick dark hair but the most amazing piercing blue eyes, the type that any Aryan would have be proud of. She seemed to have the persona that made her a person of the world,Yet, there was the energy that she was giving off, a energy of a powerful and brave woman who could and would take on the world and yet she had the gentlest smile complete with dimples. I was transfixed by her and I felt that my heart would burst into a thousand of pieces if she spoke to me, which of course she would and it did.”
― Beverley Price, Blood Bound

“He conjured a spotlight, which travelled down along the balcony, and rested on her face.
‘Your hair,’ he said. ‘All of the lights land in it.’
(All of the lights land in it: an excellent line. While I try to deny it, there were times – when I was younger – when this would have impressed me, too.)
‘Is this how you usually spend your Saturday nights?’ Mother asked.
‘No. Sometimes. I like the technology, you see. And I like to help out.’
Mother leaned against the railing alongside him. She let her hair fall against his arm.
‘I’ve never had company before,’ Father said, and smiled. ‘This makes things much more interesting.’
‘I’m not that interesting at all,’ Mother said. ‘I mean, I’m pretty boring. Actually.’
‘I don’t believe you. What’s the best thing that’s ever happened to you?’
‘What?’
‘Tell me the best thing that’s ever happened to you. Nobody’s boring when they tell you the best thing that’s ever happened. Go.’
Mother thought of her princess dress, and the faces of the villagers watching the Harvest Festival. In her mind, they multiplied, so that she led the parade through a crowd of hundreds – thousands – of well-wishers.
‘Fine,’ she said. She knew exactly how she would tell it.
‘See,’ Father said, at the end. ‘That wasn’t boring. But it wasn’t the best thing that ever happened to you, either.’
‘It wasn’t?’
‘Of course not,’ Father said. He concentrated on the fuse box, passing it from one great palm to the other. He was smiling, close to laughter. ‘That’s tonight.”
― Abigail Dean, Girl A

“There was nothing like working for clients who didn’t micromanage and left you alone to do what they’d paid you to do for them.”
― Ally Fleming, Intoxicated

“I’m William James Carter. My friends call me Will,” he says. “I’m Lucy Janette Phillips,” I reply. “Nice to meet you, LJ,” he says. Warmth flows through my body. I have a nickname.”
― If I Wake

“Emerging from the next chalet in the row was a young woman, probably mid-twenties he guessed, about medium height and build, with dark brown bobbed hair. She was clutching an arm full of books and a cup of coffee.
That he had taken all this in, in a single glance, was remarkable. As he had simultaneously taken the fact, she was absolutely naked…
“Good morning Miss!”
“Miss? I never call anyone Miss! She could be married! A radical feminist! And I have just insulted her! I should have said Mizz, or Mam’, Oh God!” The thoughts raced through Addy’s panic-stricken mind.
“There has been a spot of trouble at the clubhouse.” Professional, act professional. “I am making a few enquiries, I’d like to come back and ask you a few questions when …” Professional, you’re a professional, Man up! “… When you have … got yourself sorted out.” Phew!!”
― Ted Bun, The Uncovered Policeman: A Romantic Naturist Comedy

“What's your name?" he asked.
She'd turned to him with a deep frown, instantly terrifying him. About to turn to escape back into the bookshop, Walt was stopped by her shrug.
"Cora."
"That's a funny name."
"It isn't, actually." Cora's frown deepened. She pulled herself up to her full height of four foot three inches. 'Officially my name is Cori, but Grandma calls me Cora. I'm named in honor of Gerty Cori, the first woman winner of the Nobel Prize in medicine. I bet you didn't know that."
"No," Walt admitted, embarrassed. "I didn't."
"What's your name?"
"Walt," he offered quietly, expecting her to retort that his was an even sillier name, but she didn't.
"After the scientist?"
Walt frowned, thrown. "What scientist?"
Cora shrugged. "Maybe Luis Walter Alvarez or Walter Reed, but... actually Walter Sutton is the most famous. He invented a theory about chromosomes and the Mendelian laws of inheritance." Cora let slip a little smile of satisfaction at the blank look on the boy's face. "Or maybe Walter Lewis-"
"No," Walt interrupted, "I've never heard of any of them."
"Oh." Cora folded her arms and tilted her nose upward. "Then who are you named after?" she asked, as if this was a given.
"Walt Whitman," he retorted. "The poet.”
― Menna van Praag, The Dress Shop of Dreams

“Sirius looked about as intelligent as the temple cats who liked to chase their own tails.”
― Tammie Painter, Domna, Part One: The Sun God's Daughter

“All first meetings go like this:

Be open.
Be honest.

What is it you do when I am not around?
Where is it you come from?

Don’t dance around questions.

Tell me,

What did the last one look like?”
― Ezinne Orjiako, Nkem.

“He’s definitely young,” she laughed as he began his up-close investigation of her feet and legs. “You’re so fast, Archer!”
Morgan knelt when the dog finally came to a complete stop and looked at her with his tongue hanging out of his catfish mouth, grinning and wiggling. He danced his way closer and bumped against her leg, so she took it as an invitation and finally reached out to pet him.
“He’s so soft,” Morgan exclaimed as she ran her hand down the dog’s khaki fur.
“Yup, my velvet hippo,” Nathan said, leaning against the truck and watching them with a bemused expression.
Archer was lean and muscular, with an athlete’s body and a comedian’s face. The black mask around his muzzle highlighted the fact that he looked like a reverse vampire with his two lower canines jutting out in a pronounced underbite. He slid his body to the ground with a plop, then rolled onto his back and swatted at Morgan to pet his belly.
“Okay, bossy,” Morgan said, reaching out to rub as instructed.
“Bro, let’s go.” Nathan laughed at his dog thrashing around in front of Morgan. “He’s never going to let you stop now. Arch, c’mon.”
― Victoria Schade, Dog Friendly

“Hudson moved closer to Nathan and planted his head on his leg, looking up at him with puppy-dog eyes.
Nathan rolled his head back in surrender. “He just murdered me with cuteness.”
“Pet him, please!” Morgan said, swooning over the new bromance. “He’s dying for you.”
― Victoria Schade, Dog Friendly

“You are most definitely not who I thought you were,' he murmured.

'How did you know?' I blurted out.

'Because the last time I kissed the owner of this cloak, she damn near sucked my tongue down her throat.'

'Oh,' I whispered. Was I supposed to have done that? It didn't sound like it would be something enjoyable.”
― Jennifer L. Armentrout, From Blood and Ash

“In present tense, Mason Murray looks like he stems from a long line of hedgehogs. He hunkers on the steps like he’s considering disappearing—like he might make that happen if he only balls up enough. He’s pasty and red in the face, but not from the sun or good health. No, he seems to be blushing.”
― Addison Lane, Blackpines: The Antlers Witch: The Ones Who Couldn't Let Go

“Cookie, I thought when I looked at Ellie.
Not that I wanted to eat her. I wasn't a cannibal or anything.
But she reminded me of the cookies my mother baked when her bridge group came to our house. The smell of them in the oven was all rich vanilla and spice, oh-so-sweet.
Ellie was a little shorter than me, with endless curves that swooped and dipped, creamy skin sprinkled with cinnamon freckles up and down her arms and across her round cheeks. Her short hair fell in soft honey-colored curls, and her big blue eyes... well, that's where the whole cookie idea fell down, but they made me think of my favorite pair of worn-out jeans.
But back to those cookies. Every time, I'd tiptoe to the cooling rack and reach for one perfectly round, warm cookie when I thought Mom wasn't looking. And every time, out of nowhere, she'd slap my grubby hand away, snapping, "Not for you."
Ellie may have looked warm and round, but she had "not for you" written all over her.”
― Sarah Chamberlain, The Slowest Burn

“I glance at Maddie and see that she has a flush on her cheeks and a sparkle in her eyes. She looks at me and smiles. Then she says, 'Do you want to dance?'
'To "Little Brown Jug"?' I raise a skeptical eyebrow. 'All you’ll get is your toes being stepped on – constantly. The rhythm is a bit too fast for me, I think.'
Maddie’s smile fades as if a passing cloud has eclipsed the moon over Manhattan. The spark in her hazel eyes dims a bit as well. 'Party pooper.”
― Alex Diaz-Granados, Reunion: Coda: Book 2 of the Reunion Duology

“They talk. They always talk. And apparently you’re something to talk about.”
“Yeah?”
He wrinkled his nose a little bit and said, “Yeah. Now, like I said, I think I know what you’re looking for.”
And Mike wanted to say you and yes and I think I’ve been looking for you.”
― T.J. Klune, Murmuration