Quotes & Sayings About Does She Like Me

How does this whole guardian angel business work? Am I the only person who can see you? I mean, are you invisible to everyone else?" Patch stared at me like he hoped I wasn't serious.

"You're not invisible?" I squeaked. "You have to get out of here!" I made a movement to push Patch off the bed but was cut short by a searing jab in my ribs. "She'll kill me if she finds you in here. Can you climb trees? Tell me you can climb a tree!"

Patch grinned. "I can fly."

Oh. Right. Well, okay. — Becca Fitzpatrick

Ahem",she says. "I figured you were the only kid in the building, so it had to be you."
It's too easy
I can't resist.
"Excuse me" I say somewhat abruptly.
"It's you, right?"
I make George look as confused as possible. "Do I know you?"
Now she starts to doubt herself. "Oh, I'm sorry. I just, uh, am supposed to meet somebody."
"What does he look like?"
"I don't, um, know. It's, like, an online thing."
I grunt. "Shouldnt you be in school?"
"Shouldnt you be in school?"
"I can't. There's this amazing girl I'm supposed to meet."
She looks me hard. "You jerk. — David Levithan

Paige, the way you just stood up and left like that, I was awful proud of you. Really, you're stronger than you let on." She sighed. "I should've stood up and left sooner. I was real close." "Me, too," he said. "I think maybe we tried too hard with Bud. Both of us. He always act like that?" "When he's not real quiet and sulky." "He get along with Wes okay?" Preacher asked. "Bud thinks Wes is awesome. Because he thinks Wes is rich. Wes thinks Bud's an idiot." "Hmm." Preacher contemplated. He didn't let go of her hand. "You think Bud really believes it would be all right to get your head bashed in a few times a year for six thousand square feet and a pool?" "I believe he does," she said. "I really believe he does." "Hmm. Think he'd like to move into my big house - test that theory?" She laughed. "Do you have a big house somewhere, John?" "Not at the moment." He shrugged. "But for Bud, I'd be willing to look around." * — Robyn Carr

I'd just run into my gynecologist at Starbucks and she totally looked right past me like she didn't even know me. And so I stood there wondering whether that's something she does on purpose to make her clients feel less uncomfortable, or whether she just genuinely didn't recognize me without my vagina. Either way, it's very disconcerting when people who've been inside your vagina don't acknowledge your existence. Also, I just want to clarify that I don't mean "without my vagina" like I didn't have it with me at the time. — Jenny Lawson

You can either hold me up by my ass or we can put pillows under my hips to raise them."
"Let's go for the pillows."
"You think I'm too heavy to lift?" she asked with a wicked gleam in her eyes.
"No, I just want my hands free to play with your boobs."
"Good point. THIs position is supposed to help the man 'give the clit the attention it deserves'. That's me quoting the book, by the way."
"I like this book. It's nice and friendly and tells me to touch your clit. I appreciate that."
"So does my clit. Ready?"
Ben glanced down. HE was more than ready.
"God, yes."
"Alright," Beatriz said. "Let's do it. — Tiffany Reisz

Is it because of me you don't want more children?" she asks, and hopes he'll say "no." "Yes," he says. "Because I turned out different?" she whispers. He doesn't answer. And she doesn't wait. But just as she's about to slam the door of Audi from the outside, Dad reaches across the seat and catches her fingertips, and when she meets his eyes he looks back tentatively, like he always does. But then he whispers: "Because you turned out to be perfect. — Fredrik Backman

I shall expect your reply within a month. Surely that is time enough to ... weigh your other offers.'
She stared at him. Well. She'd underestimated Lord Prescott. Or perhaps, more accurately, she hadn't fully estimated him ...
'Thank you, Lord Prescott. It's helpful to know that your desire for me will expire by a particular date.'
'Much like the desirability of any woman. You of all people should be fully aware that a woman's bloom doesn't last forever. Nor does her ability to bear children.'
...
'Thank you for reminding me. It slipped my mind, temporarily.'
He nodded, smiling a little, acknowledging her little barb. 'Good day, Miss de Ballesteros. I am not a man without feeling, and I think I shall depart now, to recover from the decidedly ambivalent receipt of my proposal.'
She smiled a little at that.
'Good day, Lord Prescott. Perhaps I should retire, too, to preserve my bloom. — Julie Anne Long

So you," she said, meeting his eyes, "are a librarian. What does that make me then? A seven-day loan?"
Daniel laughed as he set his book aside. He moved toward her and lightly gripped her knees.
"Seven-day loan ... I'm not sure I like the thought of giving you back." He slid his hands up her thighs and took her by the hips.
"But what about overdue fines?" she asked, playfully flashing her eyes at him.
"I think I can afford them," he said. Eleanor tried to voice another protest but his mouth was already on hers. — Tiffany Reisz

Kitty's gone, Flo. Like Lilian. Believe me, there's more chance of her coming back!' I began to smile. 'And if she does, you can go to her, and I won't say a word. And if Kitty comes for me, you can do similar. And then, I suppose, we shall have our paradises - and will be able to wave to one another from our separate clouds. But till then - till then, Flo, can't we go on kissing, and just be glad? — Sarah Waters

Hurt of this magnitude is like menopause," Phyllis tells me. I've just wiped my nose with one of the hats. She takes it from me and hands me a tissue. "Comes in hot flashes. Just when you feel like you can't take it anymore, it passes for a bit. But it comes back, boy does it. — Tarryn Fisher

Tell me a story,' she whispered.
'What kind of story?'
'One that'll make me have good dreams.'
'Better give me a rating for that dream.'
'Surprise me.'
...
'Once upon a time there was a girl ... '
'Not a princess.'
'No. Definitely not. She was too smart to be a princess. Tough, too.'
'Yeah?'
'Oh yeah. Stronger than anyone realized.'
'Does she live happily ever after?'
'Shouldn't there be something in the middle?'
'I like to read the ending first. So did she?'
'Yes. — Melissa Marr

She deigned to asked me how ice queens reproduce. I grinned, and her mother looked horrified.
"We procreate by way of ice cubes, of course. We put them in our nests and let them incubate for the period of about four months, and when the temperature is right, we put them out to roost and let them flake off into billions of snowflakes, rather like tadpoles breaking in droves from their eggs. And that, child," I said, with a simulacrum of glee, "is how winter is born."
"Does it hurt?"
"No more than the approach of Monday does to most of the world. It is a natural process, you understand, but it is dreadful hard work. — Michelle Franklin

Thad asked, "Why does she keep calling you Kid, Mr.Morgan? Something about that sounds mite familiar."

"Son of a gun!" Bill suddenly exclaimed. "He's Kid Morgan, the gunfighter! I've read about him!

Lace glanced at The Kid and smiled. "Looks like your secret's out."

"It was never that much of a secret." The Kid shrugged.

"Well, I'm glad I don't have to keep it anymore," Nick said.

The Gustaffson brothers looked at him. Bill said, "You knew about this?"

"Yeah," Nick replied, looking a little ashamed. "I'm sorry, fellas. Mr.Morgan asked me to keep quiet about it, and I promised him I would. — J.A. Johnstone

Wednesday, March 23 I know now that I love Clarimonda. That she has entered into the very fiber of my being. It may be that the loves of other men are different. But does there exist one head, one ear, one hand that is exactly like hundreds of millions of others? There are always differences, and it must be so with love. My love is strange, I know that, but is it any the less lovely because of that? Besides, my love makes me happy.

If only I were not so frightened. Sometimes my terror slumbers and I forget it for a few moments, then it wakes and does not leave me. The fear is like a poor mouse trying to escape the grip of a powerful serpent. Just wait a bit, poor sad terror. Very soon, the serpent love will devour you.

"The Spider — Hanns Heinz Ewers

SEPTIMUS: My lady, I was alone with my thoughts in the gazebo, when Mrs Chater ran me to ground, and I being in such a passion, in an agony of unrelieved desire
LADY CROOM: Oh ... !
SEPTIMUS:
I thought in my madness that the Chater with her skirts over her head would give me the momentary illusion of the happiness to which I dared not put a face.
(Pause.)
LADY CROOM: I do not know when I have received a more unusual compliment, Mr Hodge. I hope I am more than a match for Mrs Chater with her head in a bucket. Does she wear drawers?
SEPTIMUS: She does.
LADY CROOM: Yes, I have heard that drawers are being worn now. It is unnatural for women to be got up like jockeys. I cannot approve. — Tom Stoppard

The Enchantress put a spell on it so it would age with me- and show me how I would look if I was still human. If I hadn't failed her test. I'm... always reminded of who I could have been."
Belle cocked her head and really looked at the picture. It was painted by a consummate artist; the velvet on the Prince's jacket looked soft and furry enough to touch. But those eyes...
"I'm not so sure it should make you feel bad," she finally said. "The man in that picture looks contemptuous. Self-important."
The Beast looked at her, shocked.
"Well, he does," she said, waving a hand to indicate the Prince's face. "It's supposed to show what you would look like on the outside. But does it show how you really are now, on the inside? — Liz Braswell

I look at the names on the mailboxes and the bells inside number 1940 and pick out a couple of women's names and press the first one. I stand there waiting, feeling the image
build up and not thinking about what I'm going to say to her because I know
something will come to me like it always does. Nothing happens. I press the second doorbell and in a few minutes she buzzes the door, twice, and I walk into the hallway. The stairs are curved around an elevator and to the right and I go up them, not in a hurry or nothing, just taking them one at a time.
Its funny, isn't it, how the first woman didn't answer the bell or wasn't home or something and just that little chance, you understand what I mean? — Sebastian Junger

You've been looking like this for months." Leo does something strange with his face.
"I don't look like that."
"Yeah. You do."
"I'll look like that if Daisy dumps me, and she'll dump me if she thinks I lied," Dylan says.
"You threw eggs at her head. Odds are she's dumping you anyway." I turn to Leo. "We decided. We said that we weren't telling anyone. We said it was art for art's sake. We said the more people knew, the more chance the cop's pick us up. We said it was you and me, no crew."
"Are you sure I didn't say it was to score girls? — Cath Crowley

Prescott has her new ID. I'm glad she does, because it's a great way to cover her ass. And what an ass that is. Speaking of, she's been walking funny all day today, so I'm glad we spent most of it in the Beatmobile, heading north back to Stockton. I know she's sore from yesterday, and I should feel guilty, but honestly? Couldn't be more thrilled. She let me into her ass. That's like code for Ask me on a date or something. I — L.J. Shen

I know what's wrong with Laura. What's wrong with Laura is that I'll never see her for the first or second or third time again. I'll never spend two or three days in a sweat trying to remember what she looks like, never again will I get to a pub half an hour early to meet her, staring at the same article in a magazine and looking at my watch every thirty seconds, never again will thinking about her set something off in me like 'Let's Get It On' sets something off in me. And sure, I love her and like her and have good conversations, nice sex and intense rows with her, and she looks after me and worries about me and arranges the Groucho for me, but what does all that count for, when someone with bare arms, a nice smile, and a pair of Doc Martens comes into the shop and says she wants to interview me? Nothing, that's what, but maybe it should count for a bit more. — Nick Hornby

Zues?" I said.
"His computer. He named it." Then she whispered conspiratorially, "He acts like it's a person."
"I do not," he said as we walked down the hall toward his room.
"You gave it a birthday party," she said.
Grayson stopped walking for a moment. "Annual hard-drive maintenance and software upgrades do not count as a birthday party."
"No," she said. "But singing 'Happy Birthday' to it does."
He took a deep breath. They've obviously been through this before. "You know I was testing the new voice-recognition software."
Natalie looked at me. "Birthday party. — James Ponti

If you wish to serve me, as you have bloodsworn yourself to do, you must do so with honor. And that does not include introducing yourself by name to people like my mother in order to terrify them into submission."
"Kem'falla - " Gaelen protested.
"Don't bother to deny it," she snapped. — C.L. Wilson

You know what?' said Vimes aloud. 'This is going to be the world's first democratically killed dragon. One man, one stab.'
Then you've got to stop them. You can't let them kill it!' said Lady Ramkin.
Vimes blinked at her.
Pardon?' he said.
It's wounded!'
Lady, that was the intention, wasn't it? Anyway, it's only stunned,' said Vimes.
I mean you can't let them kill it like this,' said Lady Ramkin insistently. 'Poor thing!'
What do you want to do, then?' demanded Vimes, his temper unravelling. 'Give it a strengthening dose of tar oil and a nice comfy basket in front of the stove?'
It's butchery!'
Suits me fine!'
But it's a dragon! It's just doing what a dragon does! It never would have come here if people had left it alone!'
Vimes thought: it was about to eat her, and she can still think like this. He hesitated. Perhaps that did give you the right to an opinion ... — Terry Pratchett

What do you think? Does everything look right? "
" You really expect me to look at anything but you? "
She laughed even as her pulse jittered. " Boy, I must be in bad shape when a shopworn line like that hits the mark. "
" I mean it, " he said and watched her smile fade. " I adore looking at you. " Laying a hand on her knees with a long, slow, thorough kiss. " Beautiful Margo. mine. "
" Well, you're certainly taking my mind off my ... kiss me again. "
" Glad to. — Nora Roberts

I am trying to see things in perspective. My dog wants a bite of my peanut butter chocolate chip bagel. I know she cannot have this, because chocolate makes dogs very sick. My dog does not understand this. She pouts and wraps herself around my leg like a scarf and purrs and tries to convince me to give her just a tiny bit. When I do not give in, she eventually gives up and lays in the corner, under the piano, drooping and sad. I hope the universe has my best interest in mind like I have my dog's. When I want something with my whole being, and the universe withholds it from me, I hope the universe thinks to herself: "Silly girl. She thinks this is what she wants, but she does not understand how it will hurt. — Blythe Baird

She didn't get this pish from you, did she? Because I'm still looking for a reason to lop off one of your appendages after what you did to her, and this looks like the perfect excuse."

"For god's sake," I mutter.

Gavin backs up with his hands raised. "Don't blame me. I might have presented the idea, but she's the one who sauntered off with it."

Derrick narrows his eyes. "Aileana, is that true?"

"Yes," I snap. "Well, not the sauntering. I don't saunter."

"Does . . . this mean I get to keep my appendages?" Gavin asks.

"For now," Derrick says, holding up the needle in a clear threat. — Elizabeth May

Brigan," she said, annoyed that he had not understood.
"I'll always be beautiful. Look at me. I have one hundred and sixty two bug bites, and has it made me any less beautiful? I'm missing two fingers and I have scars all over, but does anyone care? No! It just makes me more interesting! I'll always be like this, stuck in this beautiful form, and you'll have to deal with it."
He seemed to sense that she expected a grave response, but for the moment, he was incapable. "I suppose it's a burden I must bear," he said, grinning. — Kristin Cashore

I live for you," I say sadly.
She kisses my cheek. "Then you must live for more."
There's a long, terrible silence that stretches between us. She does not understand how her words wrench my heart, how she can twist me so easily. Because she does not love me like I love her. Her mind is too high. Mine too low. Am I not enough for her? — Pierce Brown

I'm sick of this. It's like being twelve again, dealing with all this damned drama. I like her. Does she like me? What if she doesn't like me? — Kelley Armstrong

I have met the most wonderful girl. Do you remember I told you about her on my last visit? I let her go. I let the woman I love go because I didn't want her to go through what Mom went through. And I've realized that I can't do this without her. That I need her. That she makes me stronger. I don't want to hurt her if it's my turn to end up here - I don't want her to cry every night like Mother does because I'm no longer here with her. Or cry because I'm across the country and she needs me and turns around to find out I'm gone. But I can't give her up. I'm fucking selfish, but I can't give her up. — Katy Evans

When the Irish nun said to me, "Speak your name loud and clear so that all the boys and girls can hear you," she was asking me to use language publicly, with strangers. That's the appropriate instruction for a teacher to give. If she were to say to me, "We are going to speak now in Spanish, just like you do at home. You can whisper anything you want to me, and I am going to call you by a nickname, just like your mother does," that would be inappropriate. Intimacy is not what classrooms are about. — Richard Rodriguez

Once I dated a woman I only liked 43%.
So I only listened to 43% of what she said.
Only told the truth 43% of the time.
And only kissed with 43% of my lips.
Some say you can't quantify desire,
attaching a number to passion isn't right,
that the human heart doesn't work like that.
But for me it does-I walk down the street
and numbers appear on the foreheads
of the people I look at. In bars, it's worse.
With each drink, the numbers go up
until every woman in the joint has a blurry
eighty something above her eyebrows,
and the next day I can only remember 17%
of what actually happened. That's the problem
with booze-it screws with your math. — Jeffrey McDaniel

A lot of the stories were highly suspicious, in her opinion. There was the one that ended when the two good children pushed the wicked witch into her own oven ... Stories like this stopped people thinking properly, she was sure. She'd read that one and thought, Excuse me? No one has an oven big enough to get a whole person in, and what made the children think they could just walk around eating people's houses in any case? And why does some boy too stupid to know a cow is worth a lot more than five beans have the right to murder a giant and steal all his gold? Not to mention commit an act of ecological vandalism? And some girl who can't tell the difference between a wolf and her grandmother must either have been as dense as teak or come from an extremely ugly family. — Terry Pratchett

Of course I need you. I go insane when I see you. You can do almost anything you wish with me. Is that what you want to hear? Almost, Dominique. And the things you couldn't make me do - you could put me through hell if you demanded them and I had to refuse you, as I would. Through utter hell, Dominique. Does that please you? Why do you want to know whether you own me? It's so simple. Of course you do. All of me that can be owned. You'll never demand anything else. But you want to know whether you could make me suffer. You could. What of it? The words did not sound like surrender, because they were not torn out of him, but admitted simply and willingly. She felt no thrill of conquest; she felt herself owned more than ever, by a man who could say these things, know them to be true, and still remain controlled and controlling - as she wanted him to remain. — Ayn Rand

Reading, she tells me, is what she does best. She loves it because it uses the whole of her, the right and the left, the hemispheres of reason and imagination. She discovered as a child that a closed book is a darkness anyone can enter, not a cary darkness like a basement or a storm, but a comforting one that wrapped her up neatly inside a world she could control. — Jenny Hubbard

I like you so much, she says between kisses. And I can tell she wants to say love instead of like, not because she really does love me but because she just wants to say it. Of course, she can't, though. Not when I haven't said it first. — Tim Tharp

It wasn't Dean's fault," Allie insists. "Seriously, it's all on me. I freaked out for no reason." She finally looks over at me. "See? This is why I don't like horror movies! You watch one scary movie when you're a kid and suddenly everyone who comes to your door is a serial killer."

"Are you kidding me right now? You'll watch a horror movie with my sister but not me? We have to watch the cancer movie?"

"Dicky," Summer chides. "You're being grumpy."

I glare at my sister with enough force to make her wince. "Not one word out of you," I snap. "And don't think I didn't feel you kick me right before I passed out. Who does that, Summer? Who kicks a man when he's down?"

From the corner of my eye, I see Tucker sink to the floor. He buries his face in his hands, shaking with laughter.

The EMT blocks my line of sight by squatting in front of me. "I need to examine you for a concussion."

Oh for fuck's sake. — Elle Kennedy

How anybody can compose a story by word of mouth face to face with a bored-looking secretary with a notebook is more than I can imagine. Yet many authors think nothing of saying, 'Ready, Miss Spelvin? Take dictation. Quote no comma Sir Jasper Murgatroyd comma close quotes comma said no better make it hissed Evangeline comma quote I would not marry you if you were the last person on earth period close quotes Quote well comma I'm not so the point does not arise comma close quotes replied Sir Jasper twirling his moustache cynically period And so the long day wore on period End of chapter.'
If I had to do that sort of thing I should be feeling all the time that the girl was saying to herself as she took it down, 'Well comma this beats me period How comma with homes for the feebleminded touting for custom on every side comma has a man like this succeeded in remaining at large mark of interrogation. — P.G. Wodehouse

Once Monica appeared wearing a borderline unprofessional dress, a bit too short, if you asked me. I could only think, Who does she think she is? She was straphanging around George Stephanopoulos, and I shooed her like a stray cat. She hissed another lame excuse. I was fed up with her games, but at this moment the president arrived, easily catching her sight (or scent - I don't know which). They made small talk. She walked away. Her mission was complete; she had caught the president's wandering eye. She turned back to ensure she had his attention - and flipped up her black-and-white print dress to reveal her blue thong. — Gary J. Byrne

No one can make me cry
Make me laugh
Make me smile
Or drive me mad like she does — Kenny Chesney

Why are you being so nice to me?' I asked her.
'You know,' she said, 'when you say stuff like that I just want to slap you.'
'What?'
'You heard me.' She picked up her beer and took a swallow, still watching me. Then she said, 'Colie, you should never be surprised when people treat you with respect. You should expect it.'
I shook my head. 'You don't know-' I began. But, as usual, she didn't let me finish.
'Yes,' she said simply. 'I do know. I've watched you, Colie. You walk around like a dog waiting to be kicked, and when someone does, you pout and cry like you didn't deserve it.'
'No one deserves to be kicked,' I said.
'I disagree,' she said flatly. 'You do if you don't think you're worth any better. — Sarah Dessen

It's admirable, what you do, what she does, but to me animal-welfare people are a bit like Christians of a certain kind. Everyone is so cheerful and well-intentioned that after a while you itch to go off and do some raping and pillaging. Or to kick a cat. — J.M. Coetzee

Leandred is insanely useful - never tell him I said that. he made enough for all of us, and helped imbue them with the spells. We included some of your magic, too. You know Leandred has a ton of it, right?" She frowned at me, but it wasn't nearly as frowny as it used to be when aimed at Constantine.
"You're going soft." I smiled.
"No, I just agree with Axer Dare - Leandred's motives are transparent at this point. Leandred would burn the world for you."
"It's not like that," I said automatically.
"No. It's way worse," she said frankly. "You are like the sole family gold nugget and the crystal on the pedestal and all the frankincense in the factory. He'd never touch you. And the world will burn if someone intent on harm does. — Anne Zoelle

Serving others also requires a talent for observation," Hawke murmurs in my ear. "She'll approach the table to her right next, ask the woman in the red shirt if she'd like her bill." My mom does exactly that, her lips moving as she gathers the dirty dishes. The customer nods and pulls her wallet out of her no-name vinyl purse. "How did you know she'd do that?" I ask. "I look for threats. You look for fashions." He splays his fingers over me, his grip thrillingly secure. "Your mom looks for needs her customers might have." "Everyone sees what they want to see," I conclude. "The average person sees very little." Hawke pushes me toward the counter. "Very few of us pay attention. — Cynthia Sax

My books show me what it's like to live in a reliable country where you flick on a switch and a bulb is guaranteed to shine and remain on, where you know that cars will stop at red lights and those traffic lights will not cease working a couple of times a day. How does it feel when a plumber shows up at the designated time, when he shows up at all? How does it feel to assume that when someone says she'll do something by a certain date, she in fact does it? — Rabih Alameddine

Beckett, where's Eve?"
When he had her pressed to his chest, she tried again. "Are you going to tell me or what?"
Beckett sighed and looked into her face. "I left her, babycakes. She needs wings, not handcuffs."
He held Livia tighter, like she was a teddy bear.
She stopped moving her feet and hugged him around the neck. "You're not handcuffs. Don't you know that? She loves you. She does, I've seen it."
Beckett resumed dancing, dipping her again. "Look around, Whitebread. She's not here. She didn't try to stop me from coming. Her heart belongs to a dead man and a dream. I'm neither of those things." Beckett released her and clapped for the end of the song. He reached in his pocket and produced a crumpled envelope. "Here's my gift to you guys. I'm sure Blake won't want to accept it, but I'm hoping you'll convince him. For me. — Debra Anastasia

She asked another question: "What does it matter if the rhinos die out? Is it really important that they are saved?"
This would normally have riled me ... but I had come to think of her as Dr. Spock from Star Trek - an emotionless, purely logical creature, at least with regards to her feelings for animals. Like Spock, though, I knew there were one or two things that stirred her, so I gave an honest reply.
" ... to be honest, it doesn't matter. No economy will suffer, nobody will go hungry, no diseases will be spawned. Yet there will never be a way to place a value on what we have lost. Future children will see rhinos only in books and wonder how we let them go so easily. It would be like lighting a fire in the Louvre and watching the Mona Lisa burn. Most people would think 'What a pity' and leave it at that while only a few wept — Peter Allison

Does that mean there'll be no engagement ball?"
"There will be," he said, "once I convince Josefina to say yes."
"She turned you down?" Zachary asked skeptically.
"She kicked me, actually. My timing did leave something to be desired."
"Josefina kicked you," Eleanor repeated. At his nod, she pursed her lips.
"Perhaps I do like her after all. — Suzanne Enoch

Does that feel better?" she asked, not expecting any sort of an answer but feeling nonetheless that she ought to continue with her one-sided conversation. "I really don't know very much about caring for the ill, but it just seems to me like you'd want something cool on your brow. I know if I were sick, that's how I'd feel."
He shifted restlessly, mumbling something utterly incoherent.
"Really?" Sophie replied, trying to smile but failing miserably. "I'm glad you feel that way."
He mumbled something else.
"No," she said, dabbing the cool cloth on his ear, "I'd have to agree with what you said the first time." He went still again.
"I'd be happy to reconsider," she said worriedly. "Please don't take offense." He didn't move.
Sophie sighed. One could only converse so long with an unconscious man before one started to feel extremely silly. — Julia Quinn

Everly sighs and crosses her arms across her chest. "No, I didn't catch anything at the wedding except Finn's house key."

"Professor Camden gave you his house key? I though you said he was going to require additional convincing before, and I quote, he accepted what was best for him?"

She waves a dismissive hand. "No, I made myself a copy."

"Everly, no." I am shaking my head at her in disbelief. "No, you did not. How? Does he know?"

"Sophie, it's like you don't even know me. I borrowed his car." She stops at the look on my face. "Fine, I stole his car and ran over to Home Depot and made copies while he was busy with his best man duties. — Jana Aston

Oh, I remember, I remember all those moments! And I want to add, too, that when such young creatures, such sweet young creatures want to say something so clever and profound, they show at once so truthfully and naively in their faces, "Here I am saying something clever and profound now" - and that is not from vanity, as it is with any one like me, but one sees that she appreciates it awfully herself, and believes in it, and thinks a lot of it, and imagines that you think a lot of all that, just as she does. Oh, truthfulness! It's by that they conquer us. How exquisite it was in her! — Fyodor Dostoyevsky

Do you think Meg cares for him?" asked Mrs. March, with an anxious look.
"Mercy me! I don't know anything about love and such nonsense!" cried Jo, with a funny mixture of interest and contempt. "In novels, the girls show it by starting and blushing, fainting away, growing thin, and acting like fools. Now Meg does not do anything of the sort. She eats and drinks and sleeps like a sensible creature. — Louisa May Alcott

I just love Kate. [Bieber], to me, is one of the funniest impressions because it's so all encompassing. It's like a total body and soul impression. But that's Kate. Every character she does is that way. — Paul Feig

Shit," he rasped. "Too much. This is too much."
Too much what? It wasn't enough, as far as she was concerned. "I like touching you."
"No one ever touches me." He took a deep, shuddering breath that somehow sounded ... pained, and not in a good way. "Nothing but the wind and rain ever does. — Larissa Ione

You didn't give me a chance to take care of you." An idea he could still barely wrap his head around. "No one does, Six. Not like you mean." "Because you have to let them. And it's hard." Her hands trembled, and she crossed her arms over her chest, as if to hide it. "You have to trust someone to see you when you're weak. And you have to trust yourself to leave if they break you. — Kit Rocha

What's so funny?" "You freak out when I disappear and reappear, but you expect me to stop time." She laughed, too. "But why can't you? You're a god." "Like I said, we have more responsibilities than freedoms. I doubt even Zeus could pull that one off." From high above, a streak of light flew from the sky and struck a boulder not twenty feet from where they lay, sending sparks and smoke and a loud crack in all directions in the echoing valley. The boulder was split in half and was as black as coal. "Holy crap!" Therese cried, falling against Than. "What was that?" "Oops. My apologies," he muttered, but it didn't sound like he was talking to her. "I made someone angry." "That scared me to death. Does that happen often?" "No. Never to me. But this is an exceptional time in my life. — Eva Pohler

Colin : "Perhaps now is the time to tell you that I have a weakness for agreeable women."
Sugar Beth : "Well, that sure does leave me out."
Colin : "Exactly. With agreeable women, I'm unendingly considerate. Gallant even."
Sugar Beth : "But with tarts like me, the gloves are off, is that it?"
Colin : "I wouldn't exactly call you a tart. But then, I tend to be broad-minded."
She suppressed the urge to dump her porridge in his lap. — Susan Elizabeth Phillips

Sometimes I feel like I've been waiting for someone to tell me when I can be normal again,' she said. 'I keep thinking I'll get a letter. Or a call. When does it happen?'
Pete looked like he wanted to walk toward her, but then he fell back against the car. The staring contest between them for almost a minute, and finally Pete exhaled loudly.
It's okay,' he said. — Maureen Johnson

What does a woman do as she waits for her man? She may wash her hair, put on makeup, choose the kind of outfit any woman would be eager to try on, spray on perfume, and look at herself one last time in the mirror. If she does these things, it's when she and the man she's waiting for are in love. It's different when a woman waits for a man she still loves but who has broken up with her, because the pure joy of it is missing. Loving someone is like carving words into the back of your hand. Even if the others can't see the words, they, like glowing letters, stand out in the eyes of the person who's left you. Right now, that's enough for me. — Kyung-ran Jo

Its hard to say what was happening inside her head. Her brain doesn't function quite like most people's to begin with and maybe, under a lot of stress, she just lost the ability to hope.
Dev pondered this, hope as an ability.
I guess that's what's so hard for me to get to, the no hope. To think that, of all the potential scenarios out there, there's not a single good one? It just seems like we- as human beings- know so much, but its nothing compared to what we don't know. The universe surprises us, right? That's just what it does. So how could she be so one hundred percent positive that nothing good would happen? — Marisa De Los Santos

They wanted it because they've got some sort of darkness in them. And maybe because they like pain. Because pain turns them on. Well, maybe it turns me on, too," she said quietly. "In fact, I know it does, because loving you hurts. And yet, I still come back for more. — Larissa Ione

Then it's just Venia, whose skin is so pale her tattoos appear to be leaping off it. Almost rigid with determination, she does my hair and nails and makeup, fingers flying swiftly to compensate for her absent teammates. The whole time, she avoids my gaze. It's only when Cinna shows up to approve me and dismiss her that she takes my hands, looks me straight in the eye, and says, "We would all like you to know what a ... privilege it has been to make you look your best." Then she hastens from the room. — Suzanne Collins

Prison left me with some strange little tics.' She has taken all the door off their hinges in all the apartments she has lived in since. It's not that she has anxiety attacks about small spaces, she says, it's just that she starts to sweat and go cold. 'This apartment is perfect for me,' she says, looking around the open space.
'How about elevators?' I ask, recalling the schlepp up the stairs.
'Exactly,' she replies, 'I don't like them much either.'
One day, years later, her husband Charlie was fooling around at home, playing the guitar. Miriam said something provocative and he stood up suddenly, lifting his arm to take off the guitar strap. He was probably just going to say 'That's outrageous', or tickle her or tackle her. But she was gone. She was already down in the courtyard of the building. She does not remember getting down the stairs-it was an automatic flight reaction. — Anna Funder

Shall I tell you the secret of true love? her father once asked her. A friend of mine liked to tell me that women love flowers. He had many flirtations, but he never found a wife. Do you know why? Because women may love flowers, but only one woman loves the scent of gardenias in late summer that remind her of her grandmother's porch. Only one woman loves apple blossoms in a blue cup. Only one woman loves wild geraniums. That's Mama! Inej had cried. Yes, Mama loves wild geraniums because no other flower has quite the same color, and she claims that when she snaps the stem and puts a sprig behind her ear, the whole world smells like summer. Many boys will bring you flowers. But someday you'll meet a boy who will learn your favorite flower, your favorite song, your favorite sweet. And even if he is too poor to give you any of them, it won't matter because he will have taken the time to know you as no one else does. Only that boy earns your heart. That — Leigh Bardugo

Dona Crista laughed a bit. "Oh, Pip, I'd be glad for you to try. But do believe me, my dear friend, touching her heart is like bathing in ice."
I imagine. I imagine it feels like bathing in ice to the person touching her. But how does it feel to her? Cold as she is, it must surely burn like fire. — Orson Scott Card

Aurora once told me that she knew I was different within the first few months after I was born, because as a baby, I never cried. She had no way of knowing if I was hungry or if my stomach hurt until I was old enough to point and talk. Even when I fell and it was obvious that I had hurt myself, I did not cry. When I didn't get my way, I would go off by myself and sulk or have a tantrum. But I never cried. Later, when I was eleven and Abba died, I didn't cry. When Joseph, my best friend at St. Elizabeth's, died, I didn't cry. Maybe I don't feel what others feel. I have no way of knowing. But I do feel. It's just that what I feel does not elicit tears. What I feel when others cry is more like a dry, empty aloneness, like I'm the only person left in the world.
So it is very strange to feel my eyes well with tears as I read Jasmine's list. — Francisco X Stork

When we sat down in the plane, Clare took something out of her pocket and handed it to me. It looked like a tube of lipstick.
I frowned at her. 'Is this really the time to swap make-up?' I asked.
She grinned. 'It's a hand taser. My parents make me carry one.' She took the cap off and pointed to the metal edge. 'If someone attacks you, you press the tip against their skin and it shoots out a charge.'
I looked down at it. 'Does it last long?'
She shook her head. 'It's pretty harmless. Noah and Pat used to play taser tag around the house when I was growing up. — Katie Kacvinsky

There's a woman I see who's not my therapist, but she's like an old friend who's a therapist in profession. She lets me talk to her like a therapist once in a while, and she does a great thing. Whenever I have a big dilemma, like this is a big problem in my life, she always says, 'Wow, you're going to have to figure that out.' — Louis C.K.

She sat for a moment, feeling the rhythmic rattle of the train's motion. "Does it ever bother you to be in his shadow, Wayne?"
"Who? Wax? I mean, he's been putting on weight, but he's not that fat yet, is he?" He grinned, though that faded when she didn't smile back. And, in an uncharacteristic moment of solemnity, he slid his boots off the table and rested one elbow on it instead, leaning toward her.
"Nah," he said after some thought. "Nah, it doesn't. But I don't care much if people look at me or not. Sometimes my life is easier if they ain't looking at me, ya know? I like listening. — Brandon Sanderson

People are like, 'How does Julianne Moore look naked?' I don't know. She was pressed up against me the whole time. I couldn't look at her. — Mark Ruffalo

She immediately moves into me and says she is sorry and then she's guiding me toward the bedroom and this is the way I always wanted the scene to play out and then it does and it has to because it doesnt really work for me unless it happens like this. — Bret Easton Ellis

So I pulled a gun on him and demanded his wallet."
The soda in my mouth becomes the soda in my nose. "You had a gun?" I cough and sputter into my napkin.
Mom's eyes go round and she pressed her finger to her lips, mouthing, "Shhh!"
"Where did you get a gun?" I hiss.
"Oliver lent it to me. He was always looking out for me. Told me to shoot first and run. He said the asking-questions-later part was for the police." She grins at my expression. "Does that earn me cool points?"
I swirl a fry in the mound of ketchup on my plate. "You want cool points for pulling a gun on my father?" I say it with all the appropriate disdain and condescension it deserves, but deep down, we both know she gets mega cool points for it.
"Psh." She waves her hand. "I didn't even know whether or not it would fire. And anyway, he didn't hand me his wallet. He propositioned me instead."
"Okay. Ew."
"Not like that, you brat. — Anna Banks

Don't make me out to be something worth saving. We both know I'm a waste." His voice was so quiet. "I wish I was better at telling you why you have to stay here. I wish I could put into words the part of my heart that has your name written on it. That part hurts right now. You have to be here. You love life too much. You're so important. I wish I could make you understand this." He tried to smile at her valiant efforts. "I would keep you if I could. You can sleep here, right on this couch. Beckett, I will let you hold this baby when it comes." She touched her stomach. "Does that tell you how much you mean to me? It's the only thing I can come up with." He shrugged. "Mouse would be disappointed. He'd feel like he didn't do his job if you died ... Eve loves you. Wherever she is - in this strip club - is that what you've been wishing for?" Beckett shook his head. "No, right? She loves you. You can't kill someone she loves. You just can't. — Debra Anastasia

I look down, trying to see my skin like she does. Underneath the soft, cerulean-blue glow, there are so many lines it looks like a roadmap. I'm so used to the ruts and puffy scars crisscrossing my arms that I forget about them sometimes. They're the legacy of the questionable talent that's kept me alive as often as it's gotten me in trouble.
The story of my life is written in the wounds on my skin. I just wish other people could read the story, too. It'd save me a lot of explaining. — Erica Cameron

For me, family means the silent treatment. At any given moment, someone is always not speaking to someone else.'
Really,' I said.
We're passive-aggressive people,' she explained, taking a sip of her coffee. 'Silence is our weapon of choice. Right now, for instance, I'm not speaking to two of my sisters and one brother ... At mine [my house], silence is golden. And common.'
To me,' Reggie said, picking up a bottle of Vitamin A and moving it thoughtfully from one hand to the other, 'family is, like, the wellspring of human energy. The place where all life begins.' ...
Harriet considered this as she took a sip of coffee. 'Huh,' she said. 'I guess when someone else does something worse. Then you need people on your side, so you make up with one person, jsut as you're getting pissed off at another.'
So it's an endless cycle,' I said.
I guess.' She took another sip. 'Coming together, falling apart. Isn't that what families are all about? — Sarah Dessen

Beauvoir lent Maheu a recent English novel she had enjoyed, The Green Hat, by Michael Arlen. She admired its independent heroine, Iris Storm. Maheu did not. 'I have no liking for women of easy virtue,' he told her. 'Much as I like a woman to please me, I find it impossible to respect any woman I've had.' Beauvoir was indignant. 'One does not HAVE an Iris Storm! — Hazel Rowley

I point at Drew, as I turn to Dawn. See? My sister finds her soulmate, and not only does she get rewarded with love and happiness, she gets free champagne flutes, and dutch ovens, and fifty-dollar checks. And what do I get? What do I get on a day when I still haven't found anyone to love? When I'm waiting by the phone for some jerk to call me, and acting like a crazy woman, e-mailing him at three a.m., clutching at straws that I might ever find anyone? Do I get gifts? No! I get condemnation from my grandmother, and I get to wear a dress that makes me look like a baked potato. — Kim Gruenenfelder

I love women, but I feel like you can't trust some of them. Some of them are liars, you know? Like I was in the park and I met this girl, she was cute and she had a dog. And I went up to her, we started talking. She told me her dog's name. Then I said, 'Does he bite?' She said, 'No.' And I said, 'Oh yeah? Then how does he eat?' Liar. — Demetri Martin

What does anyone say to anybody who used to be so important in her life, whom she's not seen in such a long time? It seems to me that in situations like this, we're all wondering the same thing: I'm still me; are you still you? A — Elizabeth Berg

I was really into old musicals. When I was seven or eight, my mum and dad would be like, 'How does she know who Ginger Rogers is?' Then, one weekend, Josephine Baker popped up in a French film called 'Zouzou,' and I was so stunned because she looked like me. — Cush Jumbo

I will not service your sister," he told her flatly, unable to think of anything else to say.
Elina laughed. "She does not want servicing. At least not from you."
"But when I came into your room earlier - "
"It gets cold on Steppes. We share beds. We share food. We do not share cocks. There is no cock sharing among the Daughters of the Steppes. That is disgusting."
"So then earlier . . ."
"She was inviting you to nap with us, like our brothers and cousins sometimes do. But not fuck."
"Oh."
"You sound disappointed."
"No. Just depressingly relieved."
"What?"
"Beautiful sisters invite me to bed - I usually dive in headfirst. A little time away with you and suddenly I'm . . . my father."
"I like your father. Now he is charming. You are dolt with ineffective travel-cow and cousin that keeps trying to dress me like doll."
"Is that where you got that eye patch from?"
"Yes."
"It's a nice color on you. — G.A. Aiken

She doesn't like the makeup, either. "I once nearly blinded myself with a mascara brush," she says, looking querulously at my eyeliner. I don't want to point out that that says far more about her than it does about me. She might as well be telling me a story of how she once confused Push for Pull on a door, then banning me from using doors again - "Lest you also be betrayed by doors. — Caitlin Moran

Hey, Rhubarb, we may need to rethink our approach."
"No, we don't."
"I've only got one hand here, kiddo. Maybe if I grab the middle-"
"If you grab the middle, it'll be the last thing that hand ever does!"
He pondered that as if it explained something. "So I'm guessing then you don't get a lot of company down here."
"Bobby, so help me, I will rip your arm off and beat you with it, do you hear me?"
"Okay, geez. Let me just get a look - " He picked her skirt up and pulled it over his head.
"Bobby!" She was actually too mortified to even scream so it came out like a squeak from a dying rat.
"Dammit, there's no light under here, can't see a thing."
Thank God for small blessings. "Get out of there!"
"Tell you what, how about you use your spare hand and I use mine on either side of your hips and we yank together. — Dee Tenorio

Yes, she doesn't really look like either of us, does she? Perhaps she's a girl who's fallen madly in love with me and persists in following me wherever I go."
"My talent is shape-shifting, Will, not acting," said Tessa, and at that Jem laughed out loud. — Cassandra Clare

As soon as we were inside, Edwart's family rushed to greet me. What seemed like thirty people circled me, chattering away.
"Oh my god, you smell good."
"Good smell, good smell."
"(she really does smell good.)"
"do you mind if I put my nose right on you? Right on your arm?"
"More smelly smelly please."
"If I could destroy every part of my brain except the part that smelled your smell, I would do it. I would do it in a second."
"Let's go, Belle," Edwart whispered and grabbed my hand. We pushed through the ravenous vampires nad out the front door.
"So that went well!" I said outside in the U-HAUL. I sniffed my hair. I did smell good.
"No, no, that wasn't my house," Edwart said, starting the truck. "I don't even know those people! Sometimes I get addresses confused. — The Harvard Lampoon

There is something of yours I would like to return to you."
"What?"
He leaned across the distance between them and caught her mouth with his own. Her eyes fluttered closed and her lips parted easily as she felt the kiss sizzling through her nerves, rendering her thoughts to smoke.
"Um..." Kaye stepped make, a little unsteadily. "Why does that belong to me?"
"That was the kiss I stole from you when you were enchanted," he said patiently.
"Oh...well, what if I didn't want it?"
"You don't?"
No," she said, letting a grin spread across her face, hoping her mother would take her time of the drive over. "I'd like you to take it back again, please."
"I am your servant," the King of the Unseelie Court said, his lips a moment from her own, "Consider it done. — Holly Black

Mel: Does Bret's girlfriend look anything like me? Murray: A little, around the eyes. Mel: Oh yeah? Big eyes huh? Murray: Well ... she's got eyes. — Kristen Schaal

She might be the Archive, but she's still a kid, Kincaid."
He frowned and looked at me. "So?"
"So? Kids like cute."
He blinked at me. "Cute?"
"Come on."
I led him downstairs.
On the lower level of the Oceanarium there's an inner ring of exhibits, too, containing both penguins and
wait for it
sea otters.
I mean, come on, sea otters. They open abalone with rocks while floating on their backs.
How much cuter does it get than small, fuzzy, floating, playful tool users with big, soft brown eyes? — Jim Butcher

I won't even try to pretend to know what bugs think about during sex, but right about the time the male praying mantis is probably thinking that he's quite the stud, the female does something pretty surprising. Yes, even for horny, bat-shit-crazy, homicidal copulating bugs. Once she has had enough of copulating, she moves on to the next phase, which is masticating. No, not masturbating ... masticating. This is a fancy-schmancy word for chewing. She chews his head off. And no, I don't mean like, "Why didn't you bring me flowers and chocolate?" Oh, no. She literally bites his head off ... and here's where it gets really interesting: She eats it. — Michael Makai

She even told me how to treat a girl on a date, which was very interesting. She said that with a girl like Mary Elizabeth, you shouldn't tell her she looks pretty. You should tell her how nice her outfit is because her outfit is her choice whereas her face isn't. She also said that with some girls, you should do things like open car doors and buy flowers, but with Mary Elizabeth (especially since it's the Sadie Hawkins' dance), I shouldn't do that. So, I asked her what I should do, and she said that I should ask a lot of questions and not mind when Mary Elizabeth doesn't stop talking. I said that it didn't sound very democratic, but Sam said she does it all the time with boys. — Stephen Chbosky

This looks like the red room of pain," she says. My mouth drops open. My little prude has been expanding her reading horizons. I choke on my laugh, and a couple of people turn to look at us. I narrow my eyes. "You read Fifty?" I ask quietly. She blushes. Amazing! - the woman is capable of blushing. "Everyone was reading it," she says, defensively. Then she looks up at me with big eyes.
"You?" "I wanted to see what all the hype was about." She does that blink, blink, blink thing with her eyelashes. "Did you pick up any new techniques?" she says, without looking at me. I squeeze her hand. "Would you like to try me out and see?" She turns her face away, pressing her lips together - horribly embarrassed. — Tarryn Fisher

Do you remember the Lady of Shalott? The mirror crack'd from side to side: 'The doom has come upon me,' cried the Lady of Shalott. Well, that's what she looked like. People laugh at Tennyson nowadays, but the Lady of Shalott always thrilled me when I was young and it still does. — Agatha Christie

In February 1999, my wife, who is also a Rangers fan, gave birth to our first child. We named her Destiny and made sure that she was baptized in a Rangers jersey. At her baptism, my wife, myself, and my stepdaughter all wore our Rangers jerseys. Years later, as Destiny learned about hockey, she came to me and said, 'Daddy, I like the Penguins. They're cool!' I immediately called my lawyer friend, wanting to sue the doctor who delivered her. God does have a sense of humor." James Valenzano, Maricopa, Arizona Rangers fan since 1970 — Adam Raider

This idea fascinates me. The idea that a few seconds of watching a photographer in action can tell you his/her status in the medium. And it's true. If you watch a photographer of merit working an event he/she does not look like an amateur ... — David Hurn

I like your coat," she announced, as if her approval of my dress were the supreme prize in a good-taste contest.
"Does that mean I get to see Jill?"
She considered this. "Perhaps it does," she said.
"Just what are your intentions concerning my roommate?"
"I'm going to kidnap her and hold her for ransom."
"Really?" she said, appearing delighted. "How splendid."
"Or else I'll put her in a cage and show her for money, but I think you'd be more suitable for that role."
She nodded. "Yes. The kidnapping is a much better idea." She stood straight and walked with exaggerated grace into the living room. There was a very nice wooden stairway, curving back on itself with a stained-glass window at the landing. She called, "Jill! Your kidnapper is here," and gave me a big smile.
"Aren't you going to come in?" she said.
"Only if you want me to. We kidnappers are very polite."
"Oh do, by all means. — Steven Brust

She brought out the first-aid kit - ever-efficient Summerset - and sat to tend the wounds. "Jesus, I really went at you. That's bad enough, but scratching and biting like a girl. It's mortifying."
"You got a couple of punches in, if it makes you feel better."
"I'm a crappy person, because it does a little."
"Rang my bell once."
"And still a little more." She looked up at him. "Do you ever wonder who the hell we are, that somehow we'll be okay that I bloodied you?"
"We're exactly who we're supposed to be."
"I don't know what I'd do if you weren't who you're supposed to be with me. I just don't know."
"I wouldn't be, without you. — J.D. Robb

What are you smiling about?" Benedict demanded.
She didn't bother to glance up as she replied, "I'm plotting your demise."
He grinned-not that she was looking at him, but it was one of those smiles she could hear in the way he breathed.
She hated that she as that sensitive to his every nuance. Especially since she had a sneaking suspicion that he was the same way about her.
"At least it sounds entertaining,"he said.
"What does?" she asked, finally moving her eyes from the lower hem of the curtain, which she'd been staring at for what seemed like hours.
"My demise," he said, his smile crooked and amused. "If you're going to kill me, you might as well enjoy yourself while you're at it, because Lord knows, I won't."
Her jaw dropped a good inch. "You're mad," she said. — Julia Quinn

How do I know you're not crazy?" she asks. "How do I know you're not the craziest dude I've ever met?"
"You'll have to test me out."
"You have my info," she says. "I'll think about it."
"Rain," I say. "That's not your real name."
"Does it matter?"
"Well, it makes me wonder what else isn't real."
"That's because you're a writer," she says. "That's because you make things up for a living."
"And?"
"And"
she shrugs
"I've noticed that writers tend to worry about things like that. — Bret Easton Ellis

You do not get to say good-bye to me like this. You do not get to say good-bye at all. You promised me you would come back, and that does not mean I get your ashes in a fucking box, do you hear me? No one gets to kill you but me, and I swear, Raphael, I will stake you myself if you let them kill you."
One corner of his sensuous mouth curved up in amusement at the illogical threat, and she growled, actually growled at him. Which only made him smile harder.
"Perhaps I simply wanted to take comfort in the sweet and silky flesh of my mate before going into battle."
Cyn gave him a doubtful look, but she smiled. "In that case, you have the wrong woman."
Raphael wrapped both arms around her and rolled them again, putting him once more on top. "I have exactly the woman I want, lubimaya. There is no other. — D.B. Reynolds

She snorted and went back to the cake. As she smoothed on the last of the icing, she frowned. "It doesn't really look like suklaada cake, does it?"
No, but he wasn't going to admit that. "Looks good to me.

-Brianna & Aeron — Savannah Stuart