Discover the most popular and inspiring quotes and sayings on the topic of Whetted. Share them with your friends on social media platforms like Facebook, Twitter, or your personal blogs, and let the world be inspired by their powerful messages. Here are the Top 100 Whetted Quotes And Sayings by 90 Authors including Victoria Clayton,Christopher Smart,Charles Haddon Spurgeon,Margaret Cavendish,Edward Young for you to enjoy and share.
charmed the words out of
And now the matchless deed's achieved, Determined, Dared, and Done.
A whetstone, though it cannot cut, may sharpen a knife that will.
Women's Tongues are as sharp as two-edged Swords, and wound as much, when they are anger'd.
As in smooth oil the razor best is whet, So wit is by politeness sharpest set; Their want of edge from their offence is seen, Both pain us least when exquisitely keen.
The bodkin, comb, and essence to prepare? For this your locks in paper durance bound, For this with tort'ring irons wreath'd around? 100 For this with fillets strain'd your tender head, And bravely bore the double loads of lead?
It was like being pleased by a thorn blush, feeling fond of every prickle.
That's new." His gaze was hot and fierce.
"My cock? I'm fairly certain it's always been there."
His grin flashed briefly. "No Lio, you've been cut. Circumcised."
"Oh." I stared at the smooth column of my shaft. "That must have hurt.
The side whiskers indeed were quite handsome. But he stroked them so very zealously that looking at him, one might very well think that first just the side whiskers had been brought into the world, and then later the gentleman was attached to them in order to stroke them.
The sword that has been forged against us - is already blunted;
determined set to his chin . . . all so
He who clipped us has kept the scissors.
What a beautiful and chaste-looking mouth! from floor to ceiling, lines, or rather papered with a glistening white membrane, glossy as bridal satins.
My good hoe as it bites the ground revenges my wrongs, and I have less lust to bite my enemies. In the smoothing the rough hillocks, I smooth my temper.
The honied tongue hath its poison.
Blessed is that man who knows his own distaff and has found his own spindle.
Your twisting is done
you have the last thread of my heart. I wonder: when the thread grows slack, will you feel it?
And once again we plighted our troth,
And titter'd, caress'd, kiss'd so dearly.
Grim-visaged war hath smoothed his wrinkled front;
And now, instead of mounting barbed steeds
To fright the souls of fearful adversaries,
He capers nimbly in a lady's chamber
To the lascivious pleasing of a lute.
And when a beest is deed, he hath no peyne; But man after his deeth moot wepe and pleyne.
This was not a beauty that warmed one. It cut, like a weapon. There was no nuance of gentleness in her, no shading of care, but fair she was, as is the flight of an arrow before it kills.
Kind words are salve to a cankered soul; spread generously.
If I see something saggin', baggin', or draggin', I'm gone have it nipped, tucked, or sucked!
An obscenely long, coarse kermit cock is being dragged across my anguished face.
The mice have gnawed at it, and sharper teeth than teeth of mice have gnawed at me.
Combing her thoughts, yanking them into a pigtail.
I have supped mead with lords and ladies; so to have I slumbered in nameless lanes and gored upon mutton.
Thurst [thrust] out nature with a croche [crook], yet woll she styll runne back agayne.
They who trim themselves to suit others will soon whittle themselves away.
You would do well to guard your tongue, lest it be stricken from you.
My tongue swore, but my mind was still unpledged.
Where does such tenderness come from
And what do I do with it, you, sly,
Adolescent, vagabond singer,
Whose lashes couldn't be longer?
Least said, soonest mended.
There are words which cut like steel.
Thou art a very ragged Wart.
But the human tongue is a beast that few can master. It strains constantly to break out of its cage, and if it is not tamed, it will tun wild and cause you grief.
The attentions of Wilkie Mackenzie were a conquest, an aspiration, a dream. The fresh memory of all those women, batting their eyelashes coquettishly, it boiled in my veins. One in particular. And Wilkie looked almost amused, now that his own jealousy had eased. "Are you jealous, my love?
I have been whipped, as the saying is, but I am sure I can recover all the lost capital occasioned by that disaster; by only hanging a few moments by the neck; and I feel quite determined to make the utmost possible out of a defeat.
Smoothly and lightly the golden seed by the furrow is covered.
I wouldn't call it tamed, laddy-me-love. The lady of Pirate's Swoop shouldn't be tame.
Grace arrived, like the big, loopy stitches with which a grandmotherly stranger might baste your hem temporarily.
Never was keener anguish lavished upon a thing more charming or more delicate.
Ravished is a nice word found in sentimental novel. Between us, Moran, the word that stuck in my mind like shit to the bottom of a shoe was fucked.
Be your strong and simple words Keen to wound as sharpened swords, And wide as targes let them be, With their shade to cover ye.
I needed cutting now the way a diabetic needs insulin. It was a bulwark, steady and unyielding, I could throw up against the insidious, corrosive lapping of a whispering sea of uneasiness.
She scissored the curls away, and - toms, grow easily sentimental over their haircuts, but I remember this sensation very vividly - it was not like she was cutting hair, it was as if I had a pair of wings beneath my shoulder-blades, that the flesh had all grown over, and she was slicing free ...
The tongue is the only tool that gets sharper with use.
The sweetest noise on earth, a woman's tongue; A string which hath no discord.
Wrinkle not thy sable brow at me, my friend. All will be known to you at last. To you as to every man.
With that truncheon thou hast slain a good knight, and now it sticketh in thy body.
I have invited our little seamstress to take her thread and needle and sew our two mouths together.
To gnaw on is human, towards digest, divine.
Silences can wound as surely as the twisting lash.
Prickly
When I'm feeling
porcupine-y,
I get nasty,
I get whiny.
Stay away or
I might stick you.
My sharp words are
quills to prick you.
Man's chiefest treasure is a sparing tongue.
You stupefied me. We waxed,
Carnivores, late and alight
In the beaded winter. All was ominous, luminous.
What soilders whey-face? The English for so please you. Take thy face hence.
The right word fitly spoken is a precious rarity.
The black serpant of wounded vanity gnawed at his heart?
Some carry beautifully crafted swords all their lives, and never realise, until they are daubed in blood, that the pleasure comes not from owning a sword, no matter how perfect, but from letting it cut.
The windy satisfaction of the tongue.
abysmally beshitted.
Totally drained he could only manage one but he made it a good one tongue included. "Delicious " he murmured.
"So depraved " Colton muttered.
"Thank you."
"Get off me."
"Mine "
"Stings."
"Boohoo.
cram's with praise, and make's
As fat as tame things.
One good deed dying tongueless
Slaughters a thousand waiting upon that.
Our praises are our wages; you may ride's
With one soft kiss a thousand furlongs ere
With spur we heat an acre.
The tongue is a whip that often turns on its master.
A sneer is like a flame; it may occasionally be curative because it cauterizes, but it leaves a bitter scar.
Take a portion of wit, And fashion it fit, Like a needle, with point and with eye: A point that can wound, An eye to look round, And at folly or vice let it fly
I'll be washed and ironed. I'll be washed and ironed and starched.
Control of the tongue! Vital for the man who would try to tread the Path, for no harsh or unkind word, no hasty impatient phrase, may escape from the tongue which is consecrated to service, and which must not injure even an enemy; for that which wounds has no place in the Kingdom of Love.
For a moment, he rested his hand on the pitchfork, breath ragged. Strands of hair escaped the ponytail and fell over his eyes, making him look wild, untamed. He'd changed so much from that quiet boy. He'd had to, growing up with monsters as playmates.
That's not who you are," Blythe said.
"Who am I?"
"My little wolf." She traced my jaw, the ridge of my knuckles. "All teeth and claws. Cunning, and fierce, and insatiable.
as his husband massaged his tongue over the ridges adorning his desire.
Wamblecropt is the most exquisite word in the English language. Say it. Each syllable is intolerably beautiful.
You know, Miss Bard, there is such a thing as being sharp enough to cut yourself.
All pleasure should be a little bent, don't you think?
Blind loving wrestling touch, sheath'd hooded sharp-tooth'd touch!
Did it make you ache so, leaving me?
When he spoke, his words seared through the air like so many knives, clipped as topiary, crisp as biscuits.
Apologies are totally inadequate,' shouted Uncle Wattleberry. 'Nothing short of felling you to the earth with an umbrella could possibly atone for the outrage. You are a danger to the whisker-growing public. You have knocked my hat off, pulled my whiskers, and tried to remove my nose.
Fate has carried me 'Mid the thick arrows: I will keep my stand Not shrink and let the shaft pass by my breast To pierce another.
No knife cuts as swiftly, deeply and precisely as the blade of the Beloved.
Today I raised your letter hastily to my lips, and it set my teeth on edge.
Your face was furrowed by the plow of grief, and blood flowed freely from Your thorn-crowned brow; such
Make the mule of your tongue serve the mercy of your heart.
strung a small white stone with a hole in it. 'This is more precious
Tender-handed stroke a nettle,
And it stings you, for your pains;
Grasp it like a man of mettle,
And it soft as silk remains.
Aaron Hill
Its wounds are as fresh as the wounds of the men who carved
I'm wild again, beguiled again, a whimpering, simpering child again. Bewitched, bothered, bewildered am I.
I sutured split infinitives and hoisted dangling modifiers and wore out the seam of my best flannel skirt.
My lone desire stands, looking like beauty on a cloud, ripe for my picking, ready for me to ravish and pleasure. Waiting for me to tempt and tease. Satisfy and gratify.
What early tongue so sweet saluteth me?
You dangle on the leash of your own longing;
your need grows teeth
You untangle a knot with slow teasing, not sharp pulling, and believe me we have here a knot such as I have never seen. But I will unpick it. I will.
Here at last there was a fitting object for those remarkable powers which, like all special gifts, become irksome to their owner when they are not in use. That razor brain blunted and rusted with inaction.
I act as the tongue of you,
... tied in your mouth ... in mine it begins to be loosened.
We wail, batten, sport, clip, clasp, sunder, dwindle, die:
This love is thickly plaited.
Although the threads of my life have often seemed knotted, I know, by faith, that on the other side of the embroidery there is a crown..
twisted her words into
My cup of sweets is not unmingled: it is dashed with a bitterness that I cannot hide from myself, disguise it as I will.
I stared at his cock, mesmerized. Even encased in rubber it remained a thing of true beauty. Had I any talent with a pen, I'd have written it poems. A haiku perhaps ... I was hypnotized, helpless. Cock-struck.