Call Me Whatever Quotes & Sayings

Is there anything you can do?'
'Well, in college I was studying-'
'Don't give me your goddamned life story! I'm interested in your trade, skill, talent, profession, ability, whatever you want to call it. What, specifically, can you do?'
'Well,'Marvin said, 'I guess, when you put it that way, I can't do anything much. — Robert Sheckley

What's your name?"
"A.A.Winters."
"What, that's your name?"
"Yes," I said impatiently, "that's my name."
"That's what people call you?"
"Like in bed, or whatever? They call you A.A.Winters?"
I met his eyes. "No, in bed they call me God."
He laughed again, the same uninhibited cackle. "Like it — Alexis Hall

We think it hugely important to support young artists, there is a war against that kind of artistry, that kind of creation ... When somebody is 19 years old, they're gonna do what they're gonna do just like we did ... For me the most important thing was for him to know anytime he can call and I'll come whatever happens. — Will Smith

I used to think there would be a blinding flash of light someday, and then I would be wise and calm and would know how to cope with everything and my kids would rise up and call me blessed. Now I see that whatever I'm like, I'm pretty well stuck with it for life. Hell of a revelation that turned out to be. — Margaret Laurence

You could call me on the phone and say, 'Someone blew up your entire house, Mike.' If it's not a person involved, I would sort of blink, whatever. That's all replaceable, right? — Michael J. Saylor

At your next dinner party, try playing the following game. Challenge everyone around the table to produce a single drug that can cure people of an illness, other then antibiotics. If you come up with anything, stop whatever you are doing and call me. — Lynne McTaggart

Asking isn't what I had in mind," Sicarius said.
"Yes, I can see that." Amaranthe planted a hand on his chest, fingers splayed. "Why don't you give Yara and me a few minutes alone to discuss this? I'll brief you on whatever we decide to do before we do it. And you can loiter nearby in case anything goes wrong."
His face didn't soften exactly - and he gave that hand a long look before meeting Amaranthe's eyes - but the hostility he'd been oozing did seem to lessen. "Assassins don't loiter," he said.
The comment startled Evrial, and she wondered if she'd heard it correctly. The man hadn't uttered much that could be classified as humor, not with her around anyway. Maybe he was simply feeling indignant.But Amaranthe smiled. "What do you call it?"
"Standing. Purposefully. — Lindsay Buroker

Of course, I would be depressed sometimes, and my Mom would be worried about me because I would just sleep to escape. Cause I was so scared of being a musician or artist, or whatever you want to call it. — Chantal Kreviazuk

I am just glad that I can take the music to the people who want to hear it. I love my audiences. I am deeply indebted to them for giving me the chance to sing my concerts, make records, and do what I love. Whatever people call it, it is great to have a voice! — Judy Collins

All it takes is for me to be seen chatting up a girl for [tabloids] to, you know, make up some crappy headline about me being a sex rat or whatever they call it. — Daniel Radcliffe

Francis!" she yelled from the living room. I fucking hated it that she still called me that and refused to answer whenever she did. I told her from the time I was nine to call me Frank. She mostly only called me that stupid, effete fucking name when she was pissed at me. I hated it so much I once told her if, for whatever reason, I died young - got hit by a car, whatever - that I wanted my tombstone to read "Frank," and if it didn't, I would come back as a ghost and haunt her. — A.D. Aliwat

By the way, all joking aside, do I call you Ghastly or Elder Bespoke?'
'You can call me whatever you like.'
Vex nodded. 'Thank you, Gladys. — Derek Landy

You belong to me. We are not in a temporary relationship or whatever fucked up nonsense you want to call it. We are real, and you are mine. You became mine the first time I held you in my arms, and I swore to myself, I would protect you always." - Jackson Cole — Sarah Curtis

Yes and no. I thought maybe there could be something more, but I couldn't deny that I still wanted you in the dirtiest ways." He ran his thumb along the seam of my jeans. "Then I watched you crumble. I never expected you to get that call from the doctor and watching you break made me see a whole other side of you. I want to be your knight in shining armor. To take away the pain. I've never felt like this before and whatever we have, I don't want to lose it. I don't care if it's just starting and may be the most fucked up thing. I just want to give it a try. So please call me? — Magan Vernon

Listen Chica-" Carlos says when we're driving to my mom's store
"don't call me that anymore" I tell him
"what do you want me to call you, then?"
I shrug "whatever. Just not Chica"
Carlos holds his hand up "what do you want me from me? You want me to tell you lies? Okay. Kara, without you i'm nothin'. Kara, you own my heart and soul. Kara,, i love you. Is that what you to hear?
"yes"
"No guy who actually says those things really mean them"
"I bet your brother says them to Brittney and means them"
"that's because he's lost all common sense. I though you the one girl who didn't fall for my bull"
"I don't. Consider my wanting you as my real boyfriend a lapse of judgement," I tell him "But i'm over it — Simone Elkeles

I'm going to hurt you, sweetheart, because there's no other way. If I could take the pain for you, I would."
She did not turn her face away from him or try to twist free of his imprisoning grasp, and what she said made Ian's throat ache with emotion. "Do you know," she whispered with a teary smile, "how long I've waited to hear you call me 'sweetheart' again?"
"How long?" he asked hoarsely.
Putting her arms around his shoulders, Elizabeth braced herself for whatever pain was coming, knowing as he tensed that it was going to happen, talking as if she could calm herself. "Two years. I've waited and w- — Judith McNaught

It can't be more than a quarter of a mile to the finish, but it seems to go on forever. Do I really have to do this? My legs are entirely dead. Would it really matter if I stopped here?
But I know I'd regret it if I did, so I plod leadenly on, distracting myself...with the thought that, whatever troubles I may have been carrying around in my head before the race, I have now entirely forgotten what they were. This thought is rather refreshing. Whatever physical pains it has involved, this ordeal has utterly absorbed me, forcing my brain to focus on the kind of concerns for which it evolved - navigation, survival, balance, digging deep - rather than on the fretful urban anxieties to which it has become habituated. Reconnecting with your inner animal, I suppose you could call it; and it feels good. Especially when, blissfully, I catch sight of the finish. — Richard Askwith

To me, the scariest movie ever made to this day is 'The Exorcist.' It still scares the living hell out of me, and it's because of the fantasy element. It's the exorcism. It's the Devil. It's not a guy breaking into your house trying to torture you or cut your whatever off. Those kinds of movies don't do it for me, and I don't call them horror. — Cassandra Peterson

I'm just saying that I don't want to go through any of this anymore. With anyone. I want to buy a cat, or lease one, or do whatever it is that lonely people do these days. Call it quits. And that's what I don't get, because no matter how much I tell myself it's all useless and it's all a waste of time and energy, there just doesn't seem to be a way to stop myself from looking for the right person. You know? From looking at every face on every escalator that's going up while I'm going down and wondering whether the right guy for me just went by... Why isn't there a fuse box somewhere that I can go peer at with a flashlight until I find the fuse with 'Heart' written underneath it and then throw that switch and let the rest of them keep humming merrily along and just, I don't know, opt out of the whole thing? — Paul Schmidtberger

I felt compassion for the poor people who were taken in by [supernatural] follies. And now I think that I was at least as much to be pitied myself. Not that experience has since shown me anything surpassing my first beliefs, and that through no fault of my curiosity; but reason has taught me to condemn a thing thus, dogmatically, as false and impossible, is to assume the distinction of knowing the bounds and limits of God's will and of the power of our mother Nature; and that there is no more notable folly in the world than to measure these things by our capacity and competence. If we call prodigies or miracles whatever our reason cannot reach, how many of these appear continually before our eyes! Let us consider through what clouds and how gropingly we are led to the knowledge of most of the things that are right in our hands; assuredly we shall find that it is rather familiarity than knowledge that takes away their strangeness. — Michel De Montaigne

In the case of the creative mind, it seems to me, the intellect has withdrawn its watchers from the gates, and the ideas rush in pell-mell, and only then does it review and inspect the multitude. You worthy critics, or whatever you may call yourselves, are ashamed or afraid of the momentary and passing madness which is found in all real creators, the longer or shorter duration of which distinguishes the thinking artist from the dreamer. Hence your complaints of unfruitfulness, for you reject too soon and discriminate too severely. — Friedrich Schiller

Say you'll go caving this weekend." The leather coat crinkled and moved as he tried to move closer to me than the seat belt would allow. He could have reached out and touched me. Part of me wanted him to, which was sort of embarrassing all on its own. I started to say no, then realized I wanted to say yes. Which was silly. But I was enjoying sitting in the dark with the smell of leather and cologne. Call it chemistry, instant lust, whatever. I liked Richard. He flipped my switch. It had been a long time since I had liked anybody. Jean-Claude — Laurell K. Hamilton

Do you at least like The Force Awakens?"
He stares at me. "I haven't seen it."
"Wait, what? How can you call yourself a fan if you haven't even seen the new movie?"
"I've been a bit busy lately," he says. "Dealing with you has taken up a lot of my free time."
"Oh, whatever. That's bullshit. You had enough free time to put together a gazillion piece puzzle. You've got time to watch a movie, and you know it. I'm just... I'm ashamed of you. Legitimately ashamed."
"I'm guessing it's good, then?"
"Oh, I don't know." I shrug. "I haven't watched it. Been too busy."
Lorenzo pulls my hand away from his face and laughs.
Genuinely laughs. — J.M. Darhower

If I'm having a really bad day, I always have a girlfriend - or even a guy friend - who I can call. They'll listen to me wallow for a minute and then be like, 'Okay, let's stop. Everything's great. Let's figure out how to fix whatever's bothering you.' — Emma Roberts

I mean, by such flightiness, something that feels unsatisfied at the center of my life - that makes me shaky, fickle, inquisitive, and hungry. I could call it a longing for home and not be far wrong. Or I could call it a longing for whatever supersedes, if it cannot pass through, understanding. Other words that come to mind: faith, grace, rest. In my outward appearance and life habits I hardly change - there's never been a day that my friends haven't been able to say, and at a distance, "There's Oliver, still standing around in the weeds. There she is, still scribbling in her notebook." But, at the center: I am shaking; I am flashing like tinsel. Restless. I read about ideas. Yet I let them remain ideas. I read about the poet who threw his books away, the better to come to a spiritual completion. Yet I keep my books. I flutter; I am attentive, maybe I even rise a little, balancing; then I fall back. — Mary Oliver

I'm open to whatever people want to call me. — Jake Gyllenhaal

When they had finished they made me take notes of whatever conversation they had quoted, so that I might have the exact words, and got up to go, and when I asked them where they were going and what they were doing and by what names I should call them, they would tell me nothing, except that they had been commanded to travel over Ireland continually, and upon foot and at night, that they might live close to the stones and the trees and at the hours when the immortals are awake. — W.B.Yeats

Europe has another meaning for me. Every time I mention that word, I see the Bosnian family in front of me, living far away from whatever they call home and eating their own wonderful food because that's all that is left for them. The fact remains that after fifty years, it was possible to have another war in Europe; that it was possible to change borders; that genocide is still possible even today. — Slavenka Drakulic

Most of us believe in a higher power, whatever name we use to describe it. I refer to this higher power as the universe. Others call it God. I was raised to believe in God and I still do, but to me all religions are like a great big plate that's been broken into many pieces. All the pieces are different, but they're all still part of the same plate. The words we use to describe our beliefs aren't as important as the beliefs themselves. — Laura Lynne Jackson

While I'm a venture capitalist who invests in early-stage tech companies, I often feel like a professional emailer and conference call maker. I try to spend most of my time doing whatever the companies we are investors in need me to do. — Brad Feld

I step closer to him and put my hand on his arm.
If he flinches slightly - if my heart contracts - I ignore it.
I'm not disgusting. I'm his daughter.

'But, Daddy? Here's what they mean to ME. They're an act of hate. They're vengeance against me, from someone I never treated badly. They're UNDESERVED. And even if they were deserved, what does that mean, exactly. That if someone takes naked pictures of me, I'm a bad person, so they get the right to call me slut on the Internet? Are you trying to tell me that just because I didn't stop Nate from aiming his camera, I deserve whatever happens to me, forever? I deserved this attack because I asked for it? Do you hear how ugly that is?'

"I never said you asked for it." He sounds different, his voice choked and unsettled.

'Yeah. You did. — Robin York

Everybody wears an unseen sign that reads: Inspire me. Remind me that my life matters; call me to be my best self; appeal to whatever in me is most noble and honorable. Don't let me go down the path of least resistance. Challenge me to make my life about something more than the acquisition of money or success — John Ortberg

Just aiming a speely input device, or a Farspark chambre, or whatever you call it ... a speelycaptor ... at something doesn't collect what is meaningful to me. I need someone to gather it in with all their senses, mix it round in their head, and make it over into words. — Neal Stephenson

Jesus waited three days to come back to life. It was perfect! If he had only waited one day, a lot of people wouldn't have even heard he died. They'd be all, "Hey Jesus, what up?" and Jesus would probably be like, "What up? I died yesterday!" and they'd be all, "Uh, you look pretty alive to me, dude ... " and then Jesus would have to explain how he was resurrected, and how it was a miracle, and the dude'd be like "Uhh okay, whatever you say, bro ... " And he's not gonna come back on a Saturday. Everybody's busy, doing chores, workin' the loom, trimmin' the beard, NO. He waited the perfect number of days, three. Plus it's Sunday, so everyone's in church already, and they're all in there like "Oh no, Jesus is dead", and then BAM! He bursts in the back door, runnin' up the aisle, everyone's totally psyched, and FYI, that's when he invented the high five. That's why we wait three days to call a woman, because that's how long Jesus wants us to wait ... True story. — Barney Stinson

I think re-engineering or restructuring or downsizing or rightsizing or whatever you want to call it, it's basically firing, has gone way too far. Employees, as I've talked to them across the country, feel that they are not respected, they are not valued, they are worried about their jobs. They simply feel that the company is no longer loyal to them. Why should they be loyal to the company, they ask me. Why should I go the extra mile? Why should I care? — Robert Reich

Sometimes I don't even know what to name a song when I get done with it, and I'll let somebody else tell me what I should call it because it's whatever stuck in their head. — Justin Timberlake

I have only slipped away into the next room, I am I and you are you. Whatever we were to each other, that we still are. Call me by my familiar name. Speak to me in the easy way which you always used ... Play, smile, think of me ... All is well. — Henry Scott Holland

People. Falling for each others' pretensions, fakeness and whatever various faces they can put on to wear. And then they call it love. What a fantasy. What a blasphemy. Humanity bores me. — C. JoyBell C.

She raised her sad blue eyes to mine. "It's going to be so boring here without you. And I'm going to have to deal with Grandmother on my own! You need to e-mail, text, call, send smoke signals
whatever
and tell me everything you're doing."
I laughed. "Yes, I know. Every day. I promise. — Shannon Greenland

I like to drop in on people who picked on me in high school or whatever, just out of the blue, and chat with them to see how they think of me now that I'm a big star. Usually they're a lot nicer. After about half an hour, I excuse myself to go to the bathroom, and leave a few DVDs or pictures there. Then when I come out, I say good-bye and leave. Then I call the cops. — Zach Braff

Some people have been kind enough to call me a fine artist. I've always called myself an illustrator. I'm not sure what the difference is. All I know is that whatever type of work I do, I try to give it my very best. Art has been my life. — Norman Rockwell

You know, it's flattering when there's a rumor that says I'm bisexual. It means I can play more kinds of roles. I'm open to whatever people want to call me. I've never really been attracted to men sexually, but I don't think I would be afraid of it if it happened. — Jake Gyllenhaal

One corner of Carlos's mouth quirked as he continued to shake his cargo pants and boxer shorts. "Please tell me you've seen a penis before."

"Y-yes," she rasped. "But I've never seen one so...pretty." Yep, and maybe she should consider not saying the first thing to pop into her head.

His eyebrows pinched together, his grin disappearing. "My penis is not pretty," he grumbled, glancing down at the organ in question.

She begged to differ. Because he was thick, long, deeply tan, and still partially erect. And with a plump head and two identical veins running up his length, she'd go so far as to say that, in the world of phallus beauty contests, his could make a run for the money as Mr. Universe.

"If anything," he said, still staring at it, "it's a handsome penis, a manly penis."

"Whatever you want to call it" - her voice was a husky parody of its usual timber - "I'm just saying I visually enjoy it. — Julie Ann Walker

Oh, don'tleave now, little bird," Sarren crooned, licking blood from one long bony finger. "It's just getting interesting. You can't fly away just yet."
"I wasn't leaving," I snarled. "I'm not about to let you spread your superplague or virus or whatever you want to call it. You might have given up on this world, but I'm not ready to die yet. I don't need your brand of salvation." The katana shook as I raised it in front of me, but I gripped the hilt and forced my arms to be steady. "So, come on, you psycopath. Let's do this. I'm not tied to a table anymore."
Sarren's grin widened, making him even more frightening. " I still owe you for this, love," he said, gesturing to his left eye, cloudy and blind. "An eye for an eye, a tooth for tooth. Perhaps, I will pluck out both your eyes, then remove all your teeth, and make a necklace from them. Or maybe a wind chime. I do love wind chimes, don't you, little bird? — Julie Kagawa

One of the most interesting laws of planet earth is called the law of mirroring. I'm one of the 144 thousand chosen ones to ascend to paradise and I keep meeting people that are not but arrogantly believe they are. Now, how can I know which one is the reflection and which one is the illusion? They need religion to feel safe while I was born with the knowledge of a thousand galactic civilizations inside of me. They think I accept their religion, whatever it is, not realizing that it's their religion that matches me. I have already surpassed planet Earth. I came here to give these humans a second chance. And yet, the ones closer to get it, think I'm they are the ones offering me a second chance. Isn't this interesting? I think it is fascinating. This planet is truly fascinating. I could say utterly stupid, but I don't want to depress myself about it. I rather call it fascinating. — Robin Sacredfire

A lot's riding on 'Dune,' and my friends in Seattle realize what's happening if I freak out a bit. They accept whatever I happen to be, and they tell me when I'm slipping out of Kyle. They call me the 'God Emperor of the Universe.' — Kyle MacLachlan

I can believe whatever I want to believe.

Who's to prove me wrong this side of the big dirt nap?

Doesn't matter, either, what anyone else believes.

Or whether anyone else believes what I believe.

The important thing is to believe. Really, truly believe.

That's why they call it faith.

And nobody's business but my own. — Lionel Fisher

You call me castoff," Mahlia said, "Chinese throwaway, whatever." Amaya was trying to look away, but Mahlia had her pinned, kept her eye to eye. "My old man might have been peacekeeper, but my mom was pure Drowned Cities. You want to war like that, I'm all in." Mahlia lifted the scarred stump of her right hand, shoved it up in Amaya's face. "Maybe I cut you the way the Army of God cut me. See how you do with just a lucky left. How'd you like that? — Paolo Bacigalupi

I thought of my own self fifteen years ago, and how much I've changed in the same period. The me who exists today and the me who existed then, if put side by side, would look more than vaguely similar. But we are a completely different collection of molecules, with different hairlines and waistlines, and, it sometimes seems, little in common besides our names. What binds that me to this me, and allows me to maintain the illusion that there is continuity from moment to moment and year to year, is some relatively stable but gradually evolving thing at the nucleus of my being. Call it a soul, or a self, or an emergent by-product of a neural network, but whatever you want to call it, that element of continuity is entirely dependent on memory. — Joshua Foer

I never walk into the studio and say, I'm going to write a song called ... 'X' or called 'Slow Me Down.' I write a ton of lyrics, often the title is somewhere in those 10 pages of ... I call it brain vomit. It's kind of like whatever comes out of my head and I'm unabashedly just writing it down. — Emmy Rossum

Josh, you saw him," Tally says, "What did he look like? Did he look nice?"
"He looked like a person," Josh grunts.
"Don't be a spoilsport," Tally says, and Caid hears her smack Josh on the arm.
"Shortish, blondish, thinish," Josh says.
"Thank you, Josh," Caid says, "Your way with words astounds me yet again."
"Well, whatever," Tally says. "What did you guys talk about? You said he's nice?"
"We talked about a lot of things. And yeah, he's - I mean, we traded numbers, so hopefully he'll call."
"I hope so, too," Tally says. "I'm glad you have somebody to hang out with now."
"Because I was such horrible company?" Josh says, voice thick and deep like he's got a mouthful of ice cream.
"I wouldn't say horrible," Caid says. "Unbearable, maybe. Like one of those YouTube videos that never loads." And with that, he shoots a shit-eating grin in Josh's direction, and shovels a spoonful of ice cream into his mouth. — Seventhswan

I believe in the ordinary day
that is here at this moment and is me
I do not see it going its way
but I never saw how it came to me
it extends beyond whatever I may
think I know and all that is real to me
it is the present that it bears away
where has it gone when it has gone from me
there is no place I know outside today
except for the unknown all around me
the only presence that appears to stay
everything that I call mine it lent me
even the way that I believe the day
for as long as it is here and is me — W.S. Merwin

My rule is, whatever you were calling me four years ago is what you should be calling me now, because I don't like it when my family or close friends call me Nicki Minaj. To me I'm not Nicki Minaj when I'm with them. — Nicki Minaj

I always get them to call me whatever I want. I'm always in control. Isn't much I like more than a beautiful woman tied to my bed while I make her come till she passes out. So what's my problem? — Karen Marie Moning

One more nice thing about short stories is that you can create a story out of the smallest details -an idea that springs up in your mind, a word, an image, whatever. In most cases it's like jazz improvisation, with the story taking me where it wants to. And another good point is that with short stories you don't have to worry about failing. If the idea doesn't work out the way you hoped it would, you just shrug your shoulders and tell yourself that they can't all be winners. Even with masters of the genre like F. Scott Fitzgerald and Raymond Carver -even Anton Chekhov- not every short story is a masterpiece. I find this a great comfort. You can learn from your mistakes (in other words, those you can't call complete success) and use that in the next story you write. — Haruki Murakami

When I was a kid they didn't call it dyslexia. They called it you know, you were slow, or you were retarded, or whatever. What you can never change is the effect that the words 'dumb' and 'stupid' have on young people. I knew I wasn't stupid, and I knew I wasn't dumb. My mother told me that. If you read to me, I could tell you everything that you read. They didn't know what it was. They knew I wasn't lazy, but what was it? — Whoopi Goldberg

When I die, my epitaph or whatever you call those signs on gravestones is going to read: I joked about every prominent man of my time, but I never met a man I dident like. I am so proud of that I can hardly wait to die so it can be carved. And when you come to my grave you will find me sitting there, proudly reading it. — Will Rogers

In the weeks prior to the war to liberate Afghanistan, a good friend of mine would ask me almost every day, "Why aren't we killing people yet?" And I never had a good answer for him. Because one of the most important and vital things the United States could do after 9/11 was to kill people. Call it a "forceful response," "decisive action" ' whatever. Those are all nice euphemisms for killing people. And the world is a better place because America saw the necessity of putting steel beneath the velvet of those euphemisms. — Jonah Goldberg

Haskell to Quinlin
You need anything, Quin, absolutely anything, you call me and I'll be there. Remember, friends help you move. Good friends help you move a body. Best friends bring their own shovel. You say the word, and I'll be there with a spanking new shovel. Or holy water and an exorcism ritual. Whatever works. — I.D. Locke

Go home, Adam," I replied softly. "We're done."
His eyes widened in shock. "Ellie-"
"I'll pretend for Braden. When we're all together, I'll pretend for Braden that nothing has changed between you and me."
I held his gaze, attempting to be strong as I ended us.
"But whatever this is, it's over. Everything. Don't call me, don't visit ... just don't. I don't want you near me when you don't have to be. It hurts too much, and if you care about me even just a little bit, you'll stay away from me. — Samantha Young

When we die, we die. No more. Once the spider-thread of life is severed, the human body is but a mass of corrupting vegetable matter. A feast for worms. That is all. Tell me, what is more ridiculous than the notion of an immortal soul; than the belief that when a man is dead, he remains alive, that when his life grinds to a halt, his soul
or whatever you call it
takes flight? — Marquis De Sade

Your life is not predestined, as in Calvinist thought, where everything is written down in the book of life long before your birth and is inescapable. There are choices, accidents, hints and wrong paths, and the ego you, or whatever you call yourself, is a factor in all this. But there is still this other factor that keeps calling. At some moment, people turn, in despair or when they are unable to go any longer on a certain route, and this inner voice says, "Where have you been? I've been waiting for you to turn to me for a long time." — James Hillman

The thing about me loving Harry is I'm twelve and he's maybe thirty or thirty-five, whatever, so he'll have to wait like six years for me to grow up. I mean if he kills Hiskott and sets us free, he'll have to wait. He'll never do that. As kind and sweet and brave as he is, he probably has a girl already a hundred others chasing after him. So what I'll have to do is always love him from afar. Unrequited love. That's what they generally call it. I'll love him forever in a deeply, deeply sad kind of way, which maybe you think sounds pretty depressing, but it isn't. Being obsessed about a deeply sad unrequited love can take your mind off the worse things, of which there are thousands, and sometimes it's better to dwell endlessly on what you can't have than on what might happen to you at any moment in Harmony corner. — Dean Koontz

I'm not perfect. I think more highly of snow and ice than love. It's easier for me to be interested in mathematics than to have affection for my fellow human beings. But I am anchored to something in life that is constant. You can call it a sense of orientation; you can call it woman's intuition; you can call it whatever you like. I'm standing on a foundation and have no farther to fall. It could be that I haven't managed to organize my life very well. But I always have a grip - with at least one finger at a time - on Absolute Space. That's why there's a limit to how far the world can twist out of joint, and to how badly things can go before I find out. I now know, without a shadow of a doubt, that something is wrong. I — Peter Hoeg

I think that when you go on a shamanic journey, you're allowing yourself to have much more access to your unconscious or your sense of connection within the universe, whatever you want to call that. You've accessed places in your brain that you don't normally. You're still there - it's your brain. But you have access in a way that you normally don't. For me, doing that felt like being in a new environment. — Amy Hardie

The evidence that I see around me in society indicates that not only is thinking very much out of favor, but I'm not sure that the last couple of generations - Generation X and Generation Next, or whatever you want to call them - even know what a thought is, having been raised to be women. — Dave Sim

Mel? Mel, I love you. Mel, come back . Mel, Mel, Mel."
It's Jared's voice, trying to call me back the way Wanda called back the Healer's host, the way she taught Kyle to call to Jodi.
I can answer him. I can speak now. I can feel my tongue in my mouth, ready to move into whatever shape I ask it to. I can feel the air in my lungs, ready to push out the words. If I want this.
"Mel, I love you, I love you."
This is Wanda's gift to me, paid for with her silver blood. Jared and I, put back together again as if she'd never lived. As if she hadn't saved us both.
If I accept this gift, I profit from her death. I kill her again. I take her sacrifice and make it murder.
"Mel, please? Open your eyes."
I feel his hand on my face, cradling my cheek. I feel his lips burn against my forehead, but I don't want them, not at this price.
Or do I? — Stephenie Meyer

Political thriller? International thriller? Financial thriller? Whatever you call it, The Ascendant is smart, edgy, fast-paced storytelling at its best. Its unlikely hero, Garrett Reilly, reminded me of a young Jack Reacher as a tech-sa What I said: Political thriller? International thriller? Financial thriller? Whatever you call it, The Ascendant is smart, edgy, fast-paced storytelling at its best. Its unlikely hero, Garrett Reilly, reminded me of a young Jack Reacher as a tech-savvy bond analyst. Drew Chapman is a debut novelist to watch. — Alafair Burke

I found that whatever interested me in life, I could pretty much pick up the phone, call somebody, and all of a sudden be in the middle of it. — Bo Derek

He says, "But it is really whatever, you know? You've saved me way more times. And we call ourselves friends."
It doesn't matter what we call ourselves, really. "You already saved me," I say.
"That was nothing."
"I'm not talking about the cave."
He wrinkles his nose.
"That first day," I say, "When you got up on the rocks to flirt with a human boy."
He smiles big, with all his ground-down teeth shining. — Hannah Moskowitz

The truest form of any form of revolutionary Left, whatever you want to call it, was Jack Kerouac, E.E. Cummings, & Ginsberg's period. Excuse me, but that's where it was at. — David Bowie

It interests me how we find ways to feel superior to another person, another group of people. It happens everywhere, and all the time. Whatever we call it, I think it's the lowest part of who we are, this need to find someone else to put down. — Elizabeth Strout

Either you're lying again or you're as stupid as you look. You ditch me first year for him when you were a girl. You ditch me second year for him when you were a boy. You lie and cheat and steal for him while he treats you like crap, and I help you and care for you and worship you like a queen while you treat me like crap! What does that guy have that I don't? What makes him so lovable and me so unworthy? Know how many times I've asked myself that question, Sophie? How many times I've studied him like a book or sat in the dark picturing every last shred of him, trying to understand why he's more of a person than me? Or why the moment he's gone, you take a ring from the School Master - or Raphael or Michelangelo or Donatello or whatever you want to call him to make yourself feel better - just because he looks like you want him to look and says what you want to hear? When you could have had someone who's honest and kind and real? — Soman Chainani

It takes me a very, very long time to write a story, to write a piece of fiction, whatever you call the fiction that I write. I just go about it blindly, feeling my way towards what it has to be. — Deborah Eisenberg

Wherever I am, whatever I'm doing, alive or dead, young or old, my heart will always be with yours. Every beat you feel against your fingertips ... " His fingers tapped against my chest, once, twice. " ... is me calling out to you. It's you returning the call. It's us talking, communicating, bonding, sharing, Living
Kiersten, it's us living. — Rachel Van Dyken

It's humbling because a lot of times people think because they are the artist or the celebrity or whatever they want to call themselves that they're above being a fan. If you like something, you can like it. You don't have to be afraid to say that so I really appreciate it and you know, to me, people are people. — Jhene Aiko

Anyway, in my performance style, I'm a singer-songwriter. People can call it neo-soul or R&B or whatever. But at the core, when you see me live, I'm a singer-songwriter. — India.Arie

Those who call me God, will fall into the deep pit of hell. Regard me as one of his slaves and have no doubt whatever about it. I am a servant of the Supreme Being; and have come to behold the wonderful drama of life. — Guru Gobind Singh

'Whatever you need to call yourself to help you sleep at night, that's fine. Just as long as you know you're sleeping next to me.' — T.J. Klune

I think I've been a good boy long enough and given everyone around me a fair piece of the pie as far as all of the fleeting glory and reward that comes from the heavens - or the music press, whatever you want to call it. — Jack White

There is something about my aura or essence, or whatever, that draws the ex-wife characters to me. I don't seek them out, but people tend to think of me for that particular archetype, or whatever you want to call it, and I don't mind it. I think there is a strength to it. — Natalie Zea

Emma and I slammed together in a dizzy, twirling embrace. I could hardly speak. 'What are you-how did you-"
I was tingling all over, certain I was still dreaming.
'I got your electrical letter!' she said.
'My ... email?'
"Yes, whatever you call it! When I didn't hear from you I got worried, and then I remembered the machinated postbox you said you made for me. Horce was able to guess your password, and-'
"We came as soon as we heard,' said Miss peregrine, shaking her head at my parents. — Ransom Riggs

Names are just words. I know that. But learning that the last name I'd used all my life was fake ...
"So what should I call myself, then?" I asked. "Sophie Atherton? Sophie Brannick?" Both sounded weird and made me feel like I was wearing clothes that didn't fit.
Mom smiled and brushed my hair away from my face. "You can call yourself whatever you want."
"Okay. Sophie Awesome Sparkle-Princess it is. — Rachel Hawkins

No, I thought, growing more rebellious, life has its own laws and it is for me to defend myself against whatever comes along, without going snivelling to God about sin, my own or other people's. How would it profit a man if he got into a tight place, to call he people who put him there miserable sinners? Or himself a miserable sinner? I disliked the levelling aspect of this sinnerdom, it was like a cricket match played in a drizzle, where everybody had an excuse - and what a dull excuse! - for playing badly. Life was meant to test a man, bring out his courage, initiative, resource; and I longed, I thought, to be tested: I didn't want to fall on my knees and call myself a miserable sinner.
But the idea of goodness did attract me, for I did not regard it as the opposite of sin. I saw it as something bright and positive and sustaining, like the sunshine, something to be adored, but from afar. — L.P. Hartley

Yes," she said. "Jamie's part of me. So are you." ... "But neither of you is all of me," she said softly, back turned. "I am... what I am. Doctor, nurse, healer, witch - whatever folk call it, the name doesn't matter. I was born to be that; I will be that 'til I die. If I should lose you - or Jamie - I wouldn't be quite a whole person any longer, but I would still have that left... — Diana Gabaldon

She turned another page. "If everyone can do it, it's science. If only a few can, then it's witchcraft, or superstition, or whatever you like to call it," she said. "But it's real." She looked up at me, green eyes bright as a snake's over the crumbling book. "We're real, Claire - you and me. And special. Have ye never asked yourself why?" I — Diana Gabaldon

When we're apart whatever are you thinking of?
If this is what I call home, why does it feel so alone?
So tell me darling, do you wish we'd fall in love?
All the time, all the time — Owl City

Whatever person kids relate to the most, I want them to call me that. Sp of Hannah's more who they find their inspiration in, call me Hannah. If they're more an average girl who wants to blend in with everybody else, then call me Miley. — Miley Cyrus

I dunno why you hate us so much. I dunno why you hate me so much. I dunno why you're calling Guillory a traitor when he's the furthest thing from it. But don't call what you're doing justice. Don't talk about punishment and crimes. Whatever your agenda is, it passed 'justice' by long ago. — Addison Lane

I can do this thing called the 'eyebrow wave,' where I can move my eyebrows in a ... wave-ular motion, whatever you call it. I feel like all the teen magazines have sucked me dry of my cool talents. — Victoria Justice

During the last ten years or so, I've seen quite a lot of Gordon, selling off his land for him. You know Gordon. He goes for anything trendy, especially young people's fads. Goes all out for a while, until something else takes his attention. Disco dancing, anti-draft, cocaine, anti-nuke - he has his little fling at whatever is 'in.' Most of 'em seem kind of nasty to me, but then I'm a bourgeois flag-waver."

"He calls me a fascist," Helena said.

"Oh, sure. He'd call me one too, except that I'm an Oppressed Minority. I bother him because I don't behave the way his stereotype says I should. — Bob Leman

Emma: I tried so hard.
Jules: In the battle? Emma, you did everything you could ...
Emma: Not in the battle. To make you not love me. I tried.
Jules: Is it that awful? Having me love you?
Emma: It was the best thing in the world. And then it was the worst. And I didn't even have a chance ...
Jules: You're going to have to learn to live with it. Even if it horrifies you. Even if it makes you sick. Just like I'm going to have to live with whatever other boyfriend you have, because we are forever no matter how, Emma, no matter what you want to call what we have, we will always be us.
Emma: There won't be any other boyfriends. What you said before, about thinking and obsessing and wanting only one thing. That's how I fel you you.
Jules, say somethin, please...
Jules: Julian. I want you to call me Julian. Only ever that. — Cassandra Clare

I was 3 and a half, and there was an open call for a Coca-Cola commercial. We were living around Dallas, and my mom took me. I think they were calling for 16-year-olds that could ride horses and swing a rope, and for whatever reason, my mom took me up there when I was 3. But I always had a rope, and I was a little cowboy at that age. — Jesse Plemons

He grinned. "And you've got yourself a nickname. I'm thinking 'Shorty'"
"I'm five eight without heels."
"It's not a description. It's a nickname. Get used to it, Shorty."
We stood there for a moment, waiting for the tension to evaporate. When it did, we smiled at each other. "Don't call me Shorty," I told him.
"Okay, Shorty."
"Seriously, that's very immature."
"Whatever you say, Shorty. Let's call it a night."
"Fine by me."
I'd worry about the humiliation in the morning.
Merit/Jonah — Chloe Neill

Now every mortal has pain
and sweat is constant,
but if there is anything dearer than being alive,
it's dark to me.
We humans seem disastrously in love with this thing
(whatever it is) that glitters on the earth
we call it life. We know no other.
The underworld's a blank
and all the rest just fantasy. — Anne Carson

Because I've lost my children, too, and I know the ache that lives inside the heart that no amount of solace or alcohol will squelch. I know what it's like to have the powers of a god and to not be able to hold the one thing that means the most to me. And if you think for one minute that I would ever serve that to another being, even Artemis, who I'd like to torture for eternity, then go ahead and call down your army on me. I would deserve whatever death they give. (Sin) — Sherrilyn Kenyon

I could hold you prisoner here for the rest of the day and list everything I love about you, but that's only half of it," he explained, turning toward me. "The other half is something I can't put into words. Something I don't think I'll ever be able to. It's something that ties me to you, and you to me. Call it chemistry, call it fate, call it whatever you want. All I know is that I'm yours just as much as you're mine, Luce. That's the surest thing I've ever known. — Nicole Williams

As we breathe and live, have a conversation, and you look in someone's eyes, and you see a sunset or have an argument or read a book or see a painting or whatever you do, it influences you. And as you live your art, it changes and grows just like you and your soul or whatever you want to call it. For me, it's never-ending, I call it "the organizer of chaos." That's what I do with this and I present it in a way that I dream. So basically, I'm just sharing my dreams with all of you. — Jared Leto

I've never made $20 million. I'm scared. I don't know if you gave me The Ring if I could carry it and bring it to Ozamorph, or whatever you call it. — Joaquin Phoenix

Los Angeles is such a great meritocracy. Where can someone with my background - don't have the right family background, the right religion, the right provenance or whatever you want to call it - I come here and I'm accepted. The city's been good to me. And I want to give back. — Eli Broad