neck

...this refinement and delicacy were what Cale adored; but Cale had been beaten into shape, hammered in dreadful fires of fear and pain. How could she be with him for long? A secret part of Arbell had been searching for some time for a way to leave her lover__lthough she was unaware of this, it is only fair to record. And so as Cale waited for her to save him while he worked out a way of saving her, she had already chosen the bitter but reasonable path of the good, of the many over the one...

Don__ stretch your neck to see who is not doing it; you can do it better! Don__ turn to watch whoever is watching you; everybody is busily watching over his own actions at hand! Go, make your own real; do at the right time. The right time is now; so do it now!

Love your neighbor... and in doing so, do it as you love yourself! Take up the loads that will cause your neighbor a neck pain; don't put a heavy cross over his/her neck!

True leaders are like statues, whether it rains or it shines, they never bend their necks to look backwards! They never run away from challenges!

Never stretch your neck to see who is not doing it big. Look into your bosom, and realize that you can do it bigger! Go, create a brighter picture!

Take chance standout. You can only have your head above waters if you stick your neck out a bit. It's time to take off... Dare to rise!

The past is far behind. If you still want to look at it, you will painfully stretch your neck muscles. Don't live in the past, leave the past, but learn from it.

I have a message for your daughter,_ said Cale. __ am bound to her with cables that not even God can break. One day, if there is a soft breeze on her cheek, it may be my breath; one night, if the cool wind plays with her hair, it may be my shadow passing by._ And with this terrible threat he faced forward and the procession started once more. In less than a minute they were gone. In her shady room Arbell Swan-Neck stood white and cold as alabaster.

Do the lovers know that when they whisper these poems they are commemorating our love?Do they ever think of you and meor only of themselves?Do they know that I once found a strand of your hairand wore it around my necklike a necklace?That I kiss your handsmore than I kiss your lips?Do they realise that our love and their love are drops in the universe__ ocean of loveand that without any of these drops, the ocean would be less?

Violinists wear the imprint on their necks with prideFor they are the players of harmony.Pilgrims, too, wear the imprint on their foreheads with prideFor they are the conductors of unity.And Lovers? Why, they are made humble by the imprint on their heartsFor they are merely the instruments of rhapsody.

He ran as fast as he could, but the memories were fast too. He stumbled upon them and fell to the ground. The memories got up and stared into his eyes menacingly, they laughed harder and kept their foot on his neck. He choked and fought to breathe. He tried and failed to scream. They choked him hard until he suffered and died miserably inside.

Soft on the neck of either dove love's hands let slip the reins: and while we look for light of love, love's twilight wanes...

Leaders let go of what they can't control. It's a matter of knowing the power of the muscles and bones in your neck so you can go for what it can carry

Those who lift trophies of success are those who do what they do without stretching their necks to see __ho else is doing what?

To feel your arms around me...to feel your breath on my neck...is pleasure in itself. It is home.

my love is a winter__ mistgently dissolvingthrough the windowat the nape of your neck.