Rather than you smoking a cigarette, the cigarette is really smoking you.
Anthony LiccioneStichwörter: smoking dying cancer exhale inhale killing-off severe
You’ve been smoking again, haven’t you? Your eyes look like road maps and you’re in full bastard mode.
Wayne Gerard TrotmanStichwörter: drugs smoking bastard marijuana gabriel-darbeaux red-eyes
Do you mind if we leave here so I can chain smoke 'til I throw up so it will be easier to quit?
Robyn PetermanStichwörter: paranormal-romance smoking vampire-romance contemporary-comedy
I'd be (...) lying there on my back with my clothes on and looking up at the ceiling and watching the cigarette smoke flow up slow and splash against the ceiling like the upside-down slow-motion moving picture of the ghost of a waterfall or like the pale uncertain spirit rising up out of your mouth on the last exhalation, the way the Egyptians figured it, to leave the horizontal tenement of clay in its ill-fitting pants and vest.
Robert Penn WarrenStichwörter: smoking
There is no such thing as 'just one last cigarette' – except the last cigarette that you've already had.
H.M. ForesterStichwörter: addiction smoking
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Smoking is suicide by instalments.
H.M. ForesterStichwörter: addiction smoking
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She almost wished she smoked, so she could lie on the car’s hood, flick a lighter, and make up names for the constellations while nicotine burned her lungs.
Brigid KemmererStichwörter: stars night smoking lonely-nights
Laughing like crazy
the child goes back to the city
gives birth to monsters
creates earthquakes
hairy women run naked
old folks who look like fetuses laugh and smoke.
Stichwörter: laughter child monsters smoking city earthquakes chile antipoetry hairy-naked-women old-folks
Not smoking is not an achievement. Like virginity, it comes standard.
Mokokoma MokhonoanaStichwörter: success virginity smoking achievement
For his lunch break, Alex decided to sit outside for a smoke. There was no break room to speak of, just a backdoor that led to a neglected parking lot and an old payphone. There was an upturned crate by the door used to hold the door open or to sit on if one so desired. But Alex couldn't sit down, even though he had been standing for the past four hours, his anxious mind kept his feet moving.
He paced back and forth, smoking his cigarette with the speed of an anxious drug addict. The cool but faint breeze pushed the smoke away from him and dissipated it into nothing. He still felt angry about the run-in with Gonzalez. It had consistently poked at him like a curious sadist with a pointed stick ever since he walked away from the door slammed in his face.
Stichwörter: fiction smoking fiction-writing literary-fiction fiction-novel
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