Brooklyn Girl Quotes & Sayings

I had to say it gave me a warm feeling to picture Meredith Winslow spending twenty years or so in an ill fitting orange jumpsuit, cozying up to a great big girl named Beulah — Kate Carlisle

I went to Brooklyn College and met this beautiful Jewish girl named Merle, with dark hair, exotic looking and brilliant. So we got married and had three children. — Dominic Chianese

That night at the Brooklyn party, I was playing the girl who was in style, the girl a man like Nick wants: the Cool Girl. Men always say that as the defining compliment, don't they? She's a cool girl. Being the Cool Girl means I am a hot, brilliant, funny woman who adores football, poker, dirty jokes, and burping, who plays video games, drinks cheap beer, loves threesomes and anal sex, and jams hot dogs and hamburgers into her mouth like she's hosting the world's biggest culinary gang bang while somehow maintaining a size 2, because Cool Girls are above all hot. — Gillian Flynn

Yellow daises tell me Brooklyn's been here.
His flower girl.
I brought nothing.
Just myself.
How fitting.
Seems like that's all I've got anymore. — Lisa Schroeder

Spring came early that year and the sweet warm nights made her restless. She walked up and down the streets and through the park. And wherever she went, she saw a boy and a girl together; walking arm-in-arm, sitting on a park bench with their arms around each other, standing closely and in silence in a vestibule. Everyone in the world but Francie had a sweetheart or a friend. She seemed to be the only lonely one in Brooklyn. — Betty Smith

Trust me," Cameron cut in, "there ain't a thing wrong with those two unless you count the unusual and exquisite length of their legs.
Brooklyn turned a tight-lipped smile on him. "Thanks so much for that penis-driven observation. — Darynda Jones

I watched my life as if it were happening to someone else. My son died. And I was hurt, but I watched my hurt, and even relished it, a little, for now I could write a real death, a true loss. My heart was broken by my dark lady, and I wept, in my room, alone; but while I wept, somewhere inside I smiled. — Neil Gaiman

I have zero hand-eye coordination - zero - so I've never been good at softball, basketball, golf, things like that, but I'm really strong and I have really good endurance so I can go forever - I'm a tough girl. — Brooklyn Decker

This was the difference between a free kingdom and slavery, happiness and misery, life and death. — Sara Raasch

And," Amber said, practically drooling as she ogled him, "it's tradition for new arrivals to help with the pep rally."
Brooklyn quirked her lips in doubt. "Tradition?"
"It's a new tradition," Amber shot back.
"Clearly the deeper meaning of the word has escaped you. — Darynda Jones

Fun times. Broken hearted people really did need to just be left the fuck alone. We're not suitable company for anyone. — Kylie Scott

It meant that she belonged some place. She was a Brooklyn girl with a Brooklyn name and a Brooklyn accent. She didn't want to change into a bit of this and a bit of that. — Betty Smith

My brother had the faith my father brought him to, and for a long time, I had Sylvia, Angela, and Gigi, the four of us sharing the weight of growing up Girl in Brooklyn, as though it was a bag of stones we passed among ourselves saying, Here. Help me carry this. — Jacqueline Woodson

I hug her one more time and pull her down to the bed. And in my mind, I rise up from the bed and look down on us, and look down at everybody else in this hospital who might have the good fortune of holding a pretty girl right now, and then at the entire Brooklyn block, and then the neighborhood, and then Brooklyn, and then New York City, and then the whole Tri-State Area, and then this little corner of America- with laser eyes I can see into every house- and then the whole country and the hemisphere and now the whole stupid world, everyone in every bed, couch, futon, chair, hammock, love seat, and tent, everyone kissing or touching eachother ... and i know that i'm the happiest of all of them. — Ned Vizzini

All that stuff about flatness - it's this idea that painting is a specialized discipline and that modernist painting increasingly refers to painting and is refining the laws of painting. But who cares about painting? What we care about is that the planet is heating up, species are disappearing, there's war, and there are beautiful girls here in Brooklyn on the avenue and there's food and flowers. — Chris Martin

I'm a tough old broad from Brooklyn. Don't try to make me into something I'm not. If you want someone to tiptoe down the Barkley staircase in crinoline and politely ask where the cattle went, get another girl. — Barbara Stanwyck

If you got the game, you got the game. That's why Tiger Woods is out there playing golf with Greg Norman. — Shaquille O'Neal

Quietly, under my breath, I mumbled a name and it wasn't the name of the girl waiting in the other room.
In my mind I pictured Brooklyn's sounds as she came and I jerked in my hand, coming and coming.
Something had to give. — Stephanie Witter

Repentance, not proper behavior or even holiness, is the doorway to grace. And the opposite of sin is grace, not virtue. — Philip Yancey

I think of myself as a girl from Brooklyn. — Barbra Streisand

There once was a miller
with a daughter as lovely as a grape.
He told the king that she could
spin gold out of common straw.
The king summoned the girl
and locked her in a room full of straw
and told her to spin it into gold
or she would die like a criminal.
Poor grape with no one to pick.
Luscious and round and sleek.
Poor thing.
To die and never see Brooklyn.
(Rumpelstiltskin) — Anne Sexton

Transmission of documents via telephone wires is possible in principle, but the apparatus required is so expensive that it will never become a practical proposition. — Dennis Gabor

In the quiet of the night,
Brooklyn baby tucked in tight.
Close your eyes, everything's all right.
Dreams will take you to the light.
Like a star, you're lovely and bright.
So sleep baby girl, sleep all night. — Lisa Schroeder

Maybe it wasn't rational, but she didn't like the idea of Leo invading her little world. Yesterday, Brooklyn had belonged to her. The Long Island 'burbs where she'd grown up had felt far away from the brick streets and renovated factory spaces of Brooklyn. In this job, she'd felt truly independent, putting down her own fragile roots in a new place.

Fast forward twenty-four hours, and her daddy had joined the workplace and her ex-boyfriend had shown up to remind her of all that she'd lost. Really, a girl could be forgiven for feeling slightly hysterical.

Not that there was any time to panic. — Sarina Bowen

Beth is the kind of girl you want to stuff into a trunk, wrapped in plastic" - Shane Carver (Quote from: The Carver's Magic) — B.L. Brooklyn

The organic produce guy, a young man who'd left Brooklyn in order to minimize his carbon footprint and consume only things he could make or grow himself. This had come to involve ... going toilet-paper free the year before, and making his wife use discarded athletic socks for her monthly cycle.'That poor girl!' said Sylvie, privately resolving to figure out where the young woman was living and anonymously deliver some tampons, the really bad kind, with non biodegradable plastic applicators. — Jennifer Weiner

When I used to say I wanted to be anywhere but Brooklyn, I maybe didn't mean it this literally. And, I suddenly understand, I do want to be Vassa--or technically I want to make Vassa into somebody worth being. The only way to become that somebody is to live in a real, substantial world: a world that doesn't follow orders, that's just as willful and independent as I'm going to be. I can only become a whole girl in a place that offers resistance; a place that makes me fight for what I want. — Sarah Porter

Somewhere in the city, an orange cat finished chewing on a marjoram plant next to his studio apartment's door and leapt purring onto the shoulder of his owner, home early from work. Somewhere in the city, a young Chinese pianist sat down at a rehearsal hall and let his fingers play the first opening notes of the Emperor Concerto, notes that would envelop the small girl in row D of the Philharmonic that night in a shimmering cloud. A boy in Staten Island touched his finger to the lower back of the girl who had been just a friend until then. A woman in Hell's Kitchen stood in her dark attic garret, her paintbrush in hand, and stepped back from the painting of chartreuse highway and forest-green sky that had taken her two years to complete. A clerk in a Brooklyn bodega tapped her crimson fingernail on a box of gripe water, reassuring the new mother holding a wailing baby, and the mother's grateful smile almost made both of them cry themselves. — Stephanie Clifford

That's partly the success of my work-the ability to have a young black girl walk into the Brooklyn Museum and see paintings she recognizes not because of their art or historical influence but because of their inflection, in terms of colors, their specificity and presence. — Kehinde Wiley