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“Take off your shirt."
Jace raised his eyebrows.
"I'm not going to attack you," she said impatiently. "I can take the sight of your naked chest without swooning."
"Are you sure?" he asked, obediently sliding the shirt off his shoulders. "Because viewing my naked chest has caused many women to seriously injure themselves stampeding to get to me.”
― Cassandra Clare, City of Lost Souls

“stronger than mountains.
a place where my heart
feels the safest-
underneath his shirt.”
― Sanober Khan

“Everything has taken on a strange, distant quality - the sounds of running and shouting outside get warped and weird like they're being filtered through water, and Alex looks miles away. I start to think I might be dreaming, or about to pass out.
And then I decide I'm definitely dreaming, because as I'm watching, Alex starts peeling his shirt off over his head.”
― Lauren Oliver, Delirium

“Anything. I'll do anything you ask me to, so long as you're shirtless.”
― Colleen Hoover

“He lifted his shirt, and on his back was the White Rabbit, wearing his waistcoat and looking at his watch. It was just like the illustration from the book. Only standing next to him, back-to-back, was another White Rabbit wearing a leather motercycle jacket and boots and smoking a cigar.”
― Michael Thomas Ford

“I walked into school and saw this kid wearing the same shirt that I had. I looked at him and said,"You stole my shirt!" I got in his face about it to the point where he started crying, but I was convinced he stole it! I remember and go, "Why was I so angry about that?" Even now when Kevin or Joe has taken one of my shirts I think back and laugh!”
― Nick Jonas

“Dressing, I chose the second shirt, the one softened in the mouth of a trained and perfumed albino hippopotamus and made entirely of pigeon's wool, because it goes better with the shoes than the one stitched with baby hair.”
― Nick Harkaway, The Gone-Away World

“There’s a pulse in my body, vibrating every pressure point. “I like kissing you.â€�
His hand lowers to my waist. “I could kiss you forever.�
I lazily glance at him from under my eyelashes. “Just kissing.� Because I think I’ll combust if we do more.
The right side of his mouth quirks. “Just kissing. And some touching.� To prove his point Isaiah’s hands caress my back, weave into my hair and slide against the dip of my waist.
Yes, definitely some touching. I inhale deeply, reminding myself that breathing is still a requirement. “I agree. Some touching. No new clothes off.�
Because I’d probably pass out at the thought of his jeans off. They already hang low on his hips. Too low. Very low. Low enough that I start to imagine what more there is to him.
Isaiah wraps his hand around the back of my neck and performs this deep massage that makes my eyes roll into my head in ecstasy. “I’ll put my shirt back on if you want.�
“N´Ç,â€� I breathe out. “I’m fine with it off.â€� More than fine.”
― Katie McGarry, Crash into You

“Let’s establish a code for when you want to go all creeper on me. One knock means you’d like to come in. Two means you’re just stopping by to spy on me while I sleep.â€� His eyes travel from my face to my shirt (which happens to be his shirt) to my bare legs, lingering a breath too long before returning to my face. His gaze is warm. My legs are cold.
Then he knocks once on the jamb. But it’s the smile that gets him in.”
― Rick Yancey, The 5th Wave

“I'm not much for parties. Sometimes you have to wear a funny hat, sometimes they expect you to eat sushi, which is like eating bait. And there's always some totally drunk girl who thinks you're smitten by her, when what you're really wondering is if she'll vomit on your shirt or instead on your shoes.”
― Dean Koontz, Deeply Odd

“It is remarkable that a fist-gnawingly dire England performance still has the power to shock, when in some ways this one had all the exquisite unpredictability of Norman Wisdom approaching a banana skin in the immediate vicinity of a swimming pool...
The England shirt is the precise opposite of a superhero costume, turning men with extraordinary abilities into mild-mannered guys next door. Were Stephen Fry to pull it on, he would struggle to string a sentence together. Were Lucian Freud to slip it over his head he would turn his easel round to reveal a childlike scribble of a cat.”
― Marina Hyde

“On a shirt, every button has its own button-hole. Fix a button elsewhere and your dressing goes crazy and nasty! On earth, everyone has his/her dreams. You have your own. Fix yourself there and your life will be fully fulfilled!”
― Israelmore Ayivor, The Great Hand Book of Quotes

“In summers, after 1 hour of extreme gaming you can use your laptop to iron your shirt.”
― Neetesh Dixit

“He has a wide gait and I struggle to appear casual as I attempt to match his stride. His shirt’s back on, which is a sin. He could definitely give Echo’s guy a run for his money in the abs department.”
― Katie McGarry, Crossing the Line

“I lower my chin to smell the shirt again. I want to wear this forever, without washing it. His dark, spicy aroma consumes the material. I peek at him from the corner of my eye, wondering if he spots me catching a whiff or if he knows how addicting his scent is to girls.”
― Katie McGarry, Crash into You

“The frosting shirt from your cake fight weeks earlier â€� just like the one you have in your closet. It was hanging inside his closet door, blue and crusty. It’s probably still in there.â€�
I smile, picturing Matt hanging his frosted shirt behind the door that night at the same time I was stuffing mine into its plastic bag in my room next door, totally freaked out about what had just happened.
“I didn’t think you recognized it,� I say. “That day we went through my closet before the trip. You wanted me to throw it out.�
“I didn’t recognize it that day. But once I saw the picture in your journal, it started to come together.”
― Sarah Ockler, Twenty Boy Summer

“Standing, Rider lifted his arms and stretched. His shirt rode up, baring a sliver of his stomach. My gaze dropped and focused in. His lower stomach was unbelievably taut. Defined.
Nice.
Very nice.
Cheeks flushing, I looked away and caught Hector’s knowing gaze. Crap. I needed to be better about checking out guys. Like incognito style.”
― Jennifer L. Armentrout, The Problem with Forever

“Aramis liked the t-shirt he was given because it had the image of the Grim Reaper on it. He liked the irony, since the Grim Reaper took lives, while he was a saver of lives.”
― Jason Medina, The Manhattanville Incident: An Undead Novel

“Wearing a protest T-shirt is the easiest form of protesting.”
― Steven Magee

“Yes. Neil Diamond had literally given her the shirt off his back. Why do these people mean so much to me? Because people inspire people. And over the years, they've all become a part of my DNA. In some way I've been shaped by each and every note I've heard them play. Memories have been painted in my mind with their voices as the frame.”
― David grohl, The Storyteller: Tales of Life and Music

“What can I do to get you out of your shirt today, Luke?â€�
Her voice held a husky, wheeler-dealer tone, the kind of voice for which he was likely to do anything. He imagined that voice whispering in his ear, issuing wicked orders, making him hard as steel.”
― Kate Meader, Flirting with Fire

“Sorry.â€� I’m surprised and glad she doesn’t recognize it. I run my thumb back and forth over a crusty bit on the shoulder strap as a five-second version of the cake fight flashes behind my eyes like a movie stuck on quick search. Don’t cry over spilt frosting, Anna. “I just â€� I like this one.â€�
“What for?� she asks.
Just tell her.
“It’s from the � it’s just the–� I bite my lower lip.
Tell her.
“Anna? What’s wrong?�
Oh, it’s nothing, really. Just that it’s from the first time your brother kissed me and made me promise not to tell you. And I was in love with him forever, and he was supposed to tell you about it in California, and we were all going to live happily ever after. I still write him letters in the journal he gave me, which he doesn’t answer, since he’s dead and all. But other than that? Honestly, it’s nothing.
“Anna?� She watches me with her sideways face again.
“Huh? Oh, sorry. Nothing. I’m fine. I â€� I’ll get rid of it later.”
― Sarah Ockler, Twenty Boy Summer

“Hey, Shell-bell," I say, leaning over her and wiping her face with a napkin. "It's the first day of school. Wish me luck."
Shelley holds jerky arms out and gives me a lopsided smile. I love that smile.
"You want to give me a hug?" I ask her, knowing she does. The doctors always tell us the more interaction Shelley gets, the better off she'll be.
Shelley nods. I fold myself in her arms, careful to keep her hands away from my hair. When I straighten, my mom gasps. It sounds to me like a referee's whistle, halting my life. "Brit, you can't go to school like that."
"Like what?"
She shakes her head and sighs in frustration. "Look at your shirt."
Glancing down, I see a large wet spot on the front of my white Calvin Klein shirt. Oops. Shelley's drool. One look at my sister's drawn face tells me what she can't easily put into words. Shelley is sorry. Shelley didn't mean to mess up my outfit.
"It's no biggie," I tell her, although in the back of my mind I know it screws up my "perfect" look.
Frowning, my mom wets a paper towel at the sink and dabs at the spot. It makes me feel like a two-year-old.
"Go upstairs and change."
"Mom, it was just peaches," I say, treading carefully so this doesn't turn into a full-blown yelling match. The last thing I want to do is make my sister feel bad.
"Peaches stain. You don't want people thinking you don't care about your appearance."
"Fine." I wish this was one of my mom's good days, the days she doesn't bug me about stuff.
I give my sister a kiss on the top of her head, making sure she doesn't think her drool bothers me in the least. "I'll see ya after school," I say, attempting to keep the morning cheerful. "To finish our checker tournament.”
― Simone Elkeles, Perfect Chemistry

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― Genre-Sports

“I know plenty of people who would be happy to give you the shirt off your back.”
― Craig D. Lounsbrough

“You’re special, Noah,â€� Ellery says softly.

No.

No!

That’s what cult leaders or psychopaths spout—right before they peel off your skin and wear it as a shirt.”
― Ivy Asher, Into Their Woods