In Bed Quotes
Quotes tagged as "in-bed"
Showing 1-6 of 6
“Well, since you're not going to do anything with me—can you at least read me a story?
I'd settle for that. I wanted him to read me a story. Something by Chekhov or Gogol or Katherine Mansfield. Take your clothes off, Oliver, and come into my bed, let me feel your skin, your hair against my flesh, your foot on mine, even if we won't do a thing, lets cuddle up, you and I, when the night is spread out against the sky, and read stories of restless people who always end up alone and hate being alone because it's always themselves they can't stand being alone with . . .”
― Call Me by Your Name
I'd settle for that. I wanted him to read me a story. Something by Chekhov or Gogol or Katherine Mansfield. Take your clothes off, Oliver, and come into my bed, let me feel your skin, your hair against my flesh, your foot on mine, even if we won't do a thing, lets cuddle up, you and I, when the night is spread out against the sky, and read stories of restless people who always end up alone and hate being alone because it's always themselves they can't stand being alone with . . .”
― Call Me by Your Name
“Oak gave up his room so they could sleep there, and although the bed is small, Cardan cannot mind when he takes Jude in his arms.
'You're probably missing your fancy palace right about now,' she whispers to him in the dark.
He traces the edge of her lip, runs his finger over the soft human hair of her cheek, pausing on a freckle and comes to rest on a tiny scar, a line of pale skin drawn there by some blade.
He considers explaining how much he despised the palace as a child, how he dreamed of escaping Elfhame. She knows most of that already. Then he considers reminding her that the fancy palace is now as much hers as his. 'Not in the least,' he says instead, and feels her smile against his skin.
But once he starts recalling his desire to leave Elfhame, he can't help but also recall how desperately she wanted to stay. And how difficult that had been, how hard she had fought, how hard she was still fighting, even now that she didn't have to.
'Why didn't you hate everyone?' he asks. 'Everyone, all the time.'
'I hated you,' Jude reassures him, bringing her mouth to his.”
― How the King of Elfhame Learned to Hate Stories
'You're probably missing your fancy palace right about now,' she whispers to him in the dark.
He traces the edge of her lip, runs his finger over the soft human hair of her cheek, pausing on a freckle and comes to rest on a tiny scar, a line of pale skin drawn there by some blade.
He considers explaining how much he despised the palace as a child, how he dreamed of escaping Elfhame. She knows most of that already. Then he considers reminding her that the fancy palace is now as much hers as his. 'Not in the least,' he says instead, and feels her smile against his skin.
But once he starts recalling his desire to leave Elfhame, he can't help but also recall how desperately she wanted to stay. And how difficult that had been, how hard she had fought, how hard she was still fighting, even now that she didn't have to.
'Why didn't you hate everyone?' he asks. 'Everyone, all the time.'
'I hated you,' Jude reassures him, bringing her mouth to his.”
― How the King of Elfhame Learned to Hate Stories
“I awoke, warm and rested and calm.
Safe.
Sunlight streamed through the filthy window, illuminating the reds and golds in the wall of wing before me- where it had been all night, shielding me from the cold.
Rhysand's arms were banded around me, his breathing deep and even. And I knew it was just as rare for him to sleep that soundly, peacefully.
What we'd done last night...
Carefully, I twisted to face him, his arms tightening slightly, as if to keep me from vanishing with the morning mist.
His eyes were open when I nestled my head against his arm. Within the shelter of the wing, we watched each other.
And I realised I might very well be content to do exactly that forever.”
― A Court of Mist and Fury
Safe.
Sunlight streamed through the filthy window, illuminating the reds and golds in the wall of wing before me- where it had been all night, shielding me from the cold.
Rhysand's arms were banded around me, his breathing deep and even. And I knew it was just as rare for him to sleep that soundly, peacefully.
What we'd done last night...
Carefully, I twisted to face him, his arms tightening slightly, as if to keep me from vanishing with the morning mist.
His eyes were open when I nestled my head against his arm. Within the shelter of the wing, we watched each other.
And I realised I might very well be content to do exactly that forever.”
― A Court of Mist and Fury
“In bed," she said, as they lay in bed, "most men will believe anything you tell them.”
― The Mind Is Its Own Place
― The Mind Is Its Own Place
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