I don’t want to kiss a stranger,” Cath would answer. “I’m not interested in lips out of context.
There is one sure way of telling when politicians aren't telling the truth - their lips move.
I would like to spare the time and effort of hack reviewers and, generally, persons who move their lips when reading.
Worship or prayer is not to be performed with the lips, but with the heart.
My lips are just forming his name when his fingers lock around my throat.
I'd really rather put songs on people's lips than in their ears.
I’ll never die", he said. Before I could protest, Lucas put two fingers on my lips, his smile seemed to fill the room with lights and I realized he was telling a deeper kind of truth then I’d ever known before “You’ll live forever and being remembered by you is the only immortality I’ll ever need if I only live on as a part of you – Bianca, that’s my idea of heaven
God puts his ear so closely down to your lips that he can hear your faintest whisper.
Look at me Elise. Tell me what you think I’m feeling,” he murmured, then bent his head to hers and pressed his mouth to her parted lips.
Let us see that our knowledge of Christ be not a powerless, barren, unpractical knowledge: O that, in its passage from our understanding to our lips, it might powerfully melt, sweeten, and ravish our hearts! Remember, brethren, a holy calling never saved any man, without a holy heart; if our tongues only be sanctified, our whole man must be damned. We must be judged by the same gospel, and stand at the same bar, and be sentenced to the same terms, and dealt with as severely as any other men.
I sit in the sky like a sphinx misunderstood; My heart of snow is wed to the whiteness of swans; I hate the movement that displaces the rigid lines, With lips untaught neither tears nor laughter do I know.
A delicate fabric of bird song Floats in the air, The smell of wet wild earth Is everywhere. Oh I must pass nothing by Without loving it much, The raindrop try with my lips, The grass with my touch; For how can I be sure I shall see again The world on the first of May Shining after the rain?
My heart lifted, and a matching grin curved my lips. He wanted to see me again. Maybe he really did like me after all. I felt like doing a happy dance, but of course, I was way too cool for that. I'd at least wait until I got back to my hotel room, alone, where no one would see.
Senseless is the breast and cold Which relenting love would fold; Bloodless are the veins and chill Which the pulse of pain did fill; Every little living nerve That from bitter words did swerve Round the tortur'd lips and brow, Are like sapless leaflets now Frozen upon December's bough.
I do like a little make-up though. I like a little mascara and lip gloss at least. But when I go to the gym I'd feel weird wearing make-up.
She brooded and bit her rich lips: my soul began its first sink into her, deep, heady, lost; like drowning in a witches' brew, Keltic, sorcerous, starlike.
Those lips looked tasty, especially when they said things like ' i jumped up every time someone knocked, hoping it's be you
"Happy birthday," he sighed, and leaned down to touch his lips to mine. I reached up on my toes to make the kiss last longer when he pulled away. He smiled my favorite crooked smile, and then he disappeared into the darkness.
He bit his lip in a manner which immediately awakened my maternal sympathy, and I helped him bite it.
You can't hear me? Read my lips!