I cruelly hate cruelty, both by nature and reason, as the worst of all the vices. But then I am so soft in this that I cannot seea chicken's neck wrung without distress, and cannot bear to hear the squealing of a hare between the teeth of my hounds.
A friend once told me that the real message Bram Stoker sought to convey in 'Dracula' is that a human being needs to live hundreds and hundreds of years to get all his reading done; that Count Dracula, basically nothing more than a misunderstood bookworm, was draining blood from the necks of 10,000 hapless virgins not because he was the apotheosis of pure evil but because it was the only way he could live long enough to polish off his extensive reading list. But I have no way of knowing if this is true, as I have not yet found time to read 'Dracula.
The first feminine feature that goes, with advancing age, is the neck.
Laurel could not see her face but only the back of her neck, the most vulnerable part of anybody, and she thought: Is there any sleeping person you can be entirely sure you have not misjudged?
May never glorious sun reflex his beams Upon the country where you make abode! But darkness and the gloomy shade of death Environ you till mischief and despair Drive you to break your necks or hang yourselves.
Most of us have a "Do Not Disturb" sign around our necks.
My workday is non-stop break-neck high stakes and high pressure. Every day.
They'll kill you for doing this," I breathed in a brief moment when his lips traveled to my neck. "If I don't I'll die anyways.
My encyclopedic knowledge of rock and roll is a millstone around my neck.
A hole is nothing at all, but you can break your neck in it.
From that time on, I always had the studios on my neck.
Love runs away from those chasing her, and those who run away, she throws herself on his neck.
[When to have a facelift:] If you're tripping over your neck.
Aristotle maintains that the neck of the Lion is composed of a single bone. Aristotle knew nothing at all about Lions, a circumstance which did not prevent him from writing a good deal on the subject.
His fingertips slid down from my face, lightly stroking the line of my neck, down toward my shoulder. Everywhere he touched, a trail of goose bumps appeared. How did he keep doing this to me? Marcus—who made every girl in the world swoon—had zero effect on me. But one whisper of a touch from Adrian completely undid me.
If Jesus had been killed twenty years ago, Catholic school children would be wearing little electric chairs around their necks instead of crosses.
I'd witnessed for the first time in my vampire- obsessed existence an actual vampire bite. The only problem was that it wasn't my neck being bitten.
The Roman world is in collapse but we do not bend our neck.
Then he leaned down, breath warm on my neck as he whispered his next words. "You've wondered if I felt differently about you since your abilities diminished. Let this serve as your answer.
It's so much easier to beat your breast than to stick your neck out.