While he'd been tentatively considering a possible romantic relationship with her, she'd fallen in love with him. He could barely speak. 'Why didn't you tell me?' Mason snorted. 'Yeah, that's right. Do you like Maira, check yes or no. Come on. You're almost thirty, you're old enough to go after what you want.
When one comes to know God and His Son Jesus Christ through the scriptures, the Spirit, and personal revelation, it is impossible to feel anything other than overwhelmed by the attributes so perfectly developed in them and so tentatively and superficially developed in oneself. Even so, we are told to strive to become like them.
Neal A. Maxwell
Do you know what Ed Gein said about women?" [... ] "'When I see a pretty girl walking down the street I think two things. One part of me wants to take her out and talk to her and be real nice and sweet and treat her right.'" I stop finish my J&B in one swallow. "What does the other part of him think?" Hamlin asks tentatively. "What her head would look like on a stick
Bret Easton Ellis
Perhaps bacteria may tentatively be regarded as biochemical experiments; owing to their relatively small size and rapid growth, variations must arise much more frequently than in more differentiated forms of life, and they can in addition afford to occupy more precarious positions in natural economy than larger organisms with more exacting requirements.
The love of literature, of language, of the mystery of the mind and heart showing themselves in the minute, strange, and unexpected combinations of letters and words, in the blackest and coldest print""the love which he had hidden as if it were illicit and dangerous, he began to display, tentatively at first, and then boldly, and then proudly.
John Edward Williams
I just want to know-are you rooting for me? Are you hoping I pull this off?" Cath's eyes settled on his, tentatively, like they'd fly away if he moved. She nodded her head. The right side of his mouth pulled up. "I'm rooting for you, " she whispered. She wasn't even sure he could hear her from the bed. Levi's smile broke free and devoured his whole face.
That's the secret to performance: conviction. The right note played tentatively still misses its mark, but play boldly and no one will question you. If one believes there is truth in art "" and I do "" then it's troubling how similar the skill of performing is to lying. Maybe lying is itself a kind of art. I think about that more than I should.
As you'll recall, what you believe - about who you are and who God is - determines how you behave. If you believe everybody is going to criticize you, you'll behave cautiously. If you believe you're probably going to fail, you're going to venture out tentatively. If, however, you believe that the one true Lord God is calling you, empowering you, leading you, and equipping you, then you will live boldly. Why? Because boldness is behavior born of belief.
Take a good long look at human beings in their actual practices and motives; bring the utmost psychological and bio-economic factors to bear on making sense of their illusions and delusions. What then would the truth have to be, such that such human beings are FIT TO KNOW IT at all, even provisionally or tentatively?
You have chastised me, demeaned me and dismantled me, before bringing me back to life. Who would have thought all of this was possible in a grotty cubicle of the men's room? You hold me there for some time whilst we both catch our breath. Tentatively I raise one hand from the wall and claw at your dark, luscious hair behind me. I love these tender moments between us just as much as the kinky, depraved ones.
The shiny black nose of a fox appears through her door before the rest of it steps tentatively across the wooden floor to where she's cooking. A pile of children's clothes lie discarded in a corner of the room. The fox knows what she is cooking and holds back a shudder. There are some things even foxes know better than to eat.
I am a member of a fragile species, still new to the earth, the youngest creatures of any scale, here only a few moments as evolutionary time is measured, a juvenile species, a child of a species. We are only tentatively set in place, error prone, at risk of fumbling, in real danger at the moment of leaving behind only a thin layer of of our fossils, radioactive at that.
Quietly, Miss Alice was demonstrating this God of love and beauty too - in small ways and in large. For a few, the concept that life did not have to be all starkness and misery was slowly taking root. Tentatively, timidly - -constantly encouraged by Miss Alice - some of the women were at last reaching out for light and beauty and joy.
What do you think, Galen?" Lady Fern asked in a sugary voice. Galen chewed slowly and painfully, swallowing tentatively. It's very unique, " he said, trying to look intrigued instead of disgusted. "It's excellent." Lady Fern looked satisfied and turned to say something to her husband, while Galen added quietly under his breath, "... not." -The Fire Stone
Tentatively I stood a great lump of wood on the chopping block and bought the axe down on it. It flew into two perfect halves. Such was my elation that I ran inside, put on our ancient cracked record of Aretha Franklin singing Respect and danced all by myself for half an hour in our living room, without inhibition, almost crying with jubilation "" not just about the wood, but because I could live competently some of the time, and because that day I liked myself.
Let us suppose that an ichthyologist is exploring the life of the ocean. He casts a net into the water and brings up a fishy assortment. Surveying his catch, he proceeds in the usual manner of a scientist to systematize what it reveals. He arrives at two generalizations: (1) No sea-creature is less than two inches long. (2) All sea-creatures have gills. These are both true of his catch, and he assumes tentatively that they will remain true however often he repeats it.
Loneliness is necessary for pure poetry. When someone intrudes into the poet's life (and any sudden personal contact, whether in the bed or in the heart, is an intrusion) the poet loses his or her balance for a moment, slips into being what he or she is, uses his or her poetry as one would use money or sympathy. The person who writes the poetry emerges, tentatively, like a hermit crab from a conch shell. The poet, for that instant, ceases to be a dead person.
There! I can't fix the whole country, and it will only last a few days, but I present you with the sun, on behalf of my dreadfully boring magic.' He bows low, holding out his hand. I reach out tentatively, afraid of being burned, but the globe merely hovers above my hand where I slide it on top of Finn's. It's golden and deliciously warm and instantly makes me happier and more at ease than I've been in weeks. I laugh, delighted, and by the look on Finn's face you'd think I was the one who had given him an absurd and wonderful gift.
The patron gets comfortable in bed and opens up the book - it opens tentatively - and the patron bends the open book backward until there is a satisfying crack and the book is a little more supple, a little easier to read. The book spine has just been broken, and a broken spine means a more submissive book.
I-" said Nick, his voice halting. "I don't mind it as much when - when people touch me. Some people." Mae looked down, and Nick, who looked more relaxed when he'd been stabbed, slowly lifted his hand from his chest and laid it on the tumbled sheets between them, fingers half-curled into his palm. He was still regarding the ceiling with a fixed glare. "Because you trust them not to hurt you?" Mae asked tentatively. "No," Nick said, his voice harsh. "Because I'd let them hurt me.
Sarah Rees Brennan
I-" said Nick, his voice halting. "I don't mind it as much when - when people touch me. Some people." Mae looked down, and Nick, who looked more relaxed when he'd been stabbed, slowly lifted his hand from his chest and laid it on the tumbled sheets between them, fingers half-curled into his palm. He was still regarding the ceiling with a fixed glare. "Because you trust them not to hurt you?" Mae asked tentatively. "No, " Nick said, his voice harsh. "Because I'd let them hurt me.
Sarah Rees Brennan
You must have seen great changes since you were a young man," said Winston tentatively. The old man's pale blue eyes moved from the darts board to the bar, and from the bar to the door of the Gents ... "The beer was better," he said finally. "And cheaper! When I was a young man, mild beer - wallop we used to call it - was fourpence a pint. That was before the war, of course." "Which war was that?" said Winston. "It's all wars," said the old man vaguely. He took up his glass, and his shoulders straightened again. "'Ere's wishing you the very best of 'ealth!
When did they start coming after you?" "Was it""was it after the oil- slick Hummer crash?" the Gasman asked Iggy tentatively. My eyes widened. Oil-slick Hummer crash? Iggy rubbed his chin, thinking. "Or maybe it was more---after the bomb," the Gasman said in a low voice, looking down. "I think it was the bomb," Iggy agreed. "That definitely seemed to tick them off." "Bomb?" I asked incredulously.
Liall realized that this was the first time he had really been alone with Scarlet. He stood up and held out his hand. The blanket dropped from his shoulders. "Come here." Scarlet reached out to him tentatively and Liall quickly dragged him into his arms. He fits there perfectly, Liall thought, snug if not a little small. Scarlet did not respond at first, as if he would pull away, and for a moment Liall believed he had made a huge mistake. Then, surprisingly, Scarlet sighed and his arms went around Liall's back. Scarlet turned his head to rest his cheek against Liall's bare chest as hey listened to the rain batten on the roof. "Thank you for saving my life." Liall murmured.
In his forty-third year William Stoner learned what others, much younger, had learned before him: that the person one loves at first is not the person one loves at last, and that love is not an end but a process through which one person attempts to know another. They were both very shy, and they knew each other slowly, tentatively; they came close and drew apart, they touched and withdrew, neither wishing to impose upon the other more than might be welcomed. Day by day the layers of reserve that protected them dropped away, so that at last they were like many who are extraordinarily shy, each open to the other, unprotected, perfectly and unselfconsciously at ease. Nearly every afternoon, when his classes were over, he came to her apartment. They made love, and talked, and made love again, like children who did not think of tiring at their play. The spring days lengthened, and they looked forward to the summer.
Auri grew serious. 'Now close your eyes and bend down so I can give you your second present.' Puzzled, I closed my eyes and bent at the waist, wondering if she had made me a hat as well. I felt her hands on either side of my face, then she gave me a tiny, delicate kiss in the middle of my forehead. Surprised, I opened my eyes. But she was already standing several steps away, her hands clasped nervously behind her back. I couldn't think of anything to say. Auri took a step forward. 'You are special to me, ' she said seriously, her face grave. 'I want you to know I will always take care of you.' She reached out tentatively and wiped at my cheeks. 'No. None of that tonight. This is your third present. If things are bad, you can come and stay with me in the Underthing. It is nice there, and you will be safe.' 'Thank you, Auri, ' I said as soon as I was able. 'You are special to me, too.' 'Of course I am, ' she said matter-of-factly. 'I am as lovely as the moon.
You, er, want us to attack him?" said the guard miserably. Thick though the palace guard were, they were as aware as everyone else of the conventions, and when guards are summoned to deal with one man in overheated circumstances it's not a good time for them.The bugger's bound to be heroic, he was thinking. This guard was not looking forward to a future in which he was dead. "Of course, you idiot!" "But, er, there's only one of him" said the guard captain. "And he's smilin', " said a man behind him. "Prob'ly goin' to swing on the chandeliers any minute, " said one of his collegues. "And kick over the table, and that." "He's not even armed!" shrieked Wonse. "Worse kind, that, " said one of the guards, with deep stoicism."They leap up, see, and grab one of the ornamental swords behind the shield over the fireplace." "Yeah, " said another, suspiciously. " And then they chucks a chair at you." "There's no fireplace! There's no sword! There's only him!Now take him!" screamed Wonse. A couple of guard grabbed Vimes tentatively by the shoulders. "You're not going to do anything heroic, are you?" whispered one of them. "Wouldn't know where to start, " he said.
I held back from seeing Jacob much during those weeks. He wanted only his mother, and I wasn't sure I could handle seeing him like that. I stopped by to pick up his siblings and take them away, but I rarely went inside the house. After several days of this, I knew I must face the sight that my daughter faced daily. Inside, I approached the couch tentatively. Would I upset him? A few times when I had visited, he'd hidden his face in a blanket. I reached out hesitantly, touching his thin arm, the skin hot and dry as paper. He didn't move, but I could see the rise and fall of his swollen chest. Suddenly, my legs gave way, and I dropped to my knees in front of the grandson that I loved so dearly. My hand shook as I lifted it to his soft, fuzzy head. I felt as though I was in the presence of someone very holy. 'I love you, ' I whispered, and when he didn't respond, an even softer whisper, 'Tell Grandpa that I love him and miss him.' And then, with a groan, 'Dear God, don't let him suffer.
Mary Potter Kenyon
Tam looked scared, swallowing and wrapping his hands around Casen's. He slowly cupped his wrists and pulled his hands away. Then he turned to the door and unlocked it. Casen expected to have it shut in his face or be told that he'd crossed a line. After all, he didn't know Tam and he'd stupidly given him an ultimatum after meeting just a few hours ago. What had he been thinking? 'Are you coming in?' Tam asked quietly, staring at his hands as he twirled his key. Casen crossed the threshold and reminded himself he was lucky; he could so easily have been turned away. Yet, when he turned to apologise for presuming too much, Tam was right in front of him and the door was closed. Before he could ask what was running through his head, Tam cupped his face, lightly caressing his cheek. It was soft and tender, identical to the look in his eyes. It was too much; Casen closed his eyes and leaned into the touch, tentatively raising his own hand to hold Tam there. It wasn't a kiss, but it was damned close.
Is that a no?" I said. "No. I mean.." He struggled for the smile again. "I'm just waiting for the punch line. Something about making it date so I need to pay. Or you expecting flowers. Or.." He trailed off. "There isn't a punch line, " I said. I rose onto my knees and inched over, in front of him. Then I stopped about a foot away. "No punch line, Daniel, " I said. "I'm asking if you'll go out with me." He didn't answer. Just reched out, his hand sliding between my hair and face, pulling me toward him and.. And he kissed me. His lips touched mine, tentatively, still unsure, and I eased closer, my arms going around his neck. He kissed me for real then, a long kiss that I felt in the bottom of my soul, a click, some deep part of me saying, "Yes, this is it." Even when the kiss broke off, it didn't end. It was like coming to the surface for a quick gasp of air, then plunging back down again, finding that sweet spot again, and holding onto it for as long as we could. Finally it tapered off, and we were lying on the picnic blanket, side by side, his hand on my hip, kissing slower now, with more breaks for air. until I said, "We should have done that sooner." He smiled, a lazy half smile, and he just looked at me for a moment, our gazes locked, lying there in drowsy happiness, before he said, "I think now's just fine." And he kissed me again, slower and softer now, as we rested there, eyes half closed. "So, about Saturday, did you ask me?" he said after a minute, "Because I'm pretty sure that means yo're paying." "Nope. You were imaging it. Considering how you eat, the meal bill is all yours. But I will spring for the movie. And bring you flowers." He chuckled. "Will you?" "Yep, a dozen pink roses, which you'll have to carry all night or risk offending me." "And what happens if I offend you?" "You don't get any more of this." I leaned in and kissed him again. And we stayed out there, on the blanket, as the sun fell, talking and kissing mostly, just being together. We had a long road ahead of us, and I knew it wasn't going to be easy. But I had everything I wanted-everything I needed-and I'd get through it just fine. We all would.