Don't Reply Then Quotes & Sayings

How do we know we're not people in a movie?' she asked.
I looked at her not knowing how to reply.
Mama, [ ... ] how do we know that things are real?'
Great. Now we have a junior existentialist in the house.
Well, we don't know. We just have to hope that what we think is real is real.'
But how do we know?' she asked, insistently.
Ah, a scientist, who wants empirical evidence.
We don't know. We just have to hope.'
Mama, how do we know things aren't a dream? You know, how sometimes life feels like a dream? Do you ever feel that way?'
Yes, sweetie, I feel that way all the time. — Julie Metz

I love you, Erik," I whispered. "You don't
have to say it, too," I hurried on, not giving him the chance to
reply. "I know you were about to before, but I just wanted to tell
you now, like this. I wanted you to know that it's for real, and
not because of anything that either one of us makes the other one
say or do."
"I love you, Natalia," he said in a confident
tone. Then he laughed softly. "Man, I've never said that before. To
anyone. Feels kinda weird. Weird in a good way," he assured me. — Sophie Davis

She hesitated. "I'm not sure I understand."
"Don't you?" he asked. "You changed my heart, Rachel."
She felt her throat constrict, making any reply impossible.
"Rachel?" Her silence rarely made him uncomfortable, but this time he had no clear view of her features and no way to gauge her reaction. He wondered if he should have made a more straightforward declaration. "Did you hear me say I love you?"
She turned her cheek into his shoulder. "I heard you. — Jo Goodman

I'll be there at ten."
"Oh," I said suprised. "For some reason I thought that this was a day thing."
"Halarious. Ten in the morning, darling."
"Can't a girl sleep in on the weekend!"
"You don't sleep. See you Sunday, and don't wear stupid shoes." Noah said, and hung up before I could reply. I stood, staring at the phone. He was so aggravating. But a nervous thrill traveled through my stomach. Me and Noah. Sunday. Just us. — Michelle Hodkin

I am very sorry, sir, but I cannot give you the Windsor crown," Rita said calmly. "I do not have it, and even if I did, it is not mine to give away."
"I don't know if you heard me correctly," the sergeant repeated, his words falling like bricks. "I said, hand it over."
Rita smiled serenely and stood, holding her thin hands clasped in front of her. Nora glanced up at her, a worried look in her eyes.
"Quite possibly it was you who did not understand my reply. I said, I am very sorry, but I am afraid I cannot give you the crown. But I can offer you a nice cup of tea, and I just baked a batch of cheddar scones."
A muffled snicker went through the room. I could even see Wesley, who stood by the door, trying not to smile. — Galaxy Craze

Why me?" I hear his answer in my head before he says it.
"Don't know, honey. But there's a reason for everything." Dad pats my hand. "We'll just have to wait patiently to see what it is."
As i do every time he says that or something like this, I bite back what I'd say if I could reply honestly. I don't believe there's a reason for everything, and having faith doesn't mean I'm blind. I believe people make poor choices. I believed bad things happen to good people. I believe there's evil in the world that I will never understand, but will never stop fighting. If I believe for two seconds that there was a reason behind some of the awful things that occur in this life, I wouldn't be able to stand it. — Tammara Webber

My sister says tearfully that she has a feeling that she will never see me again. I am not very much impressed, because she has felt this every time I go to the East. And what, she asks, is she to do if Rosalind gets appendicitis? There seems no reason why my fourteen-year-old daughter should get appendicitis, and all I can think of to reply is: 'Don't operate on her yourself!' For my sister has a great reputation for hasty action with her scissors, — Agatha Christie Mallowan

Do you pay regular visits to yourself? Don't argue or answer rationally. Let us die, and dying, reply. — Rumi

Daddy had only just got into bed when, from the next room, a small voice called, "Hello?"
"What do you want?" Daddy demanded, perhaps a trifle less patiently than usual.
There came a long silence. Then from a sleepy child came the reply, "I don't want anything 'cept I just want to know somebody is there."
That is the cry of million of hearts, millions who feel they can manage along through life as long as there is someone to share it with. — Francis Gay

When she paused, I embraced the opportunity to turn the trend of conversation by saying:
'I am afraid that I was a little rude to you last night,' but I hardly expected such a blunt reply as she made.
'Yes, you were exceedingly rude, and I hate rude men.'
'I hope you don't hate me,' I cried, laughingly.
'Oh no, not quite. You're a Londoner, you see.'
This was very severe. I confess I was hardly prepared for it, and I was tempted to say something cutting in reply, but checked myself, bowed, and merely remarked:
'Which is not my fault. Therefore pity me rather than blame me.'
'Certainly I do that,' she replied, with an amusing seriousness.
("The Doomed Man") — Dick Donovan

He could have told George a writer creates a character as a way to reveal consciousness, increase the flow of meaning. This is how we reply to power and beat back our fear. By extending the pitch of consciousness and human possibility. This poet you've snatched. His detention drains the world of one more thimble of meaning. He should have said these things to that son of a bitch, although actually he liked George, but he'd never considered the matter in quite this way before and George would have said that terrorists do not have power and anyway Bill knew he'd forget the whole thing before much time went by. — Don DeLillo

Mostly, however, we've got it smooth and efficient now. We don't have to think. She says, 'What are you doing?', I peer at her with irritation and expel air, we go on about our business. This morning, though, she came upstairs to the attic here while I was sitting in front of the computer doing some work on the net.

'What are you doing?' she asks.

Trying to concentrate on something, distracted and harassed, I reply with some degree of acerbic aggravation.

'What does it look like I'm doing?'

There's a beat, during which we hold each others eyes, unblinking.

It's immediately after this beat has passed that I realize I'm wearing no trousers. — Mil Millington

I don't have money, but you do, so you can buy yourself everything I can't." He put his finger over my lips, stopping another reply. "But there are some things money can't get you. Things I know you've never had." His touch followed the curve of my mouth, sending a shiver through me. "That's what I have to offer you, if you'll give me the chance. — Adrienne Wilder

Why do we put up with it? Do we like to be criticized? No, no scientist enjoys it. Every scientist feels a proprietary affection for his or her ideas and findings. Even so, you don't reply to critics, Wait a minute; this is a really good idea; I'm very fond of it; it's done you no harm; please leave it alone. Instead, the hard but just rule is that if the ideas don't work, you must throw them away. — Carl Sagan

We never really had a beginning. For months, we fought and insulted each other. Then we combusted into bed. We pretended what happened didn't matter, but it did, Blondie. You matter." "Braeden," I whispered and took a step farther into the room. He shook his head. "All the shit with Missy, and Zach ... hell, even with my father, it got in our way. I let it. This is me swearing I won't let it again. This is me swearing this is our beginning. You're it for me." He took a breath, and I watched his chest rise with it. His dark, chocolate eyes latched onto mine. "Because I still don't like you, Blondie." I started to roll my eyes. "I love you." My heart stopped. Everything stopped. That place deep down inside me burned and tingled. "I don't like you either." My voice wobbled. The intensity of his stare drilled right into me, like he was seating desperately for my reply. "I love you so damn much," I confessed.
-Braeden & Ivy — Cambria Hebert

One more thing, Callie," he called after her. He was stripping off his dirty frock coat, watching her. "What?" "I don't call any man property - you know that we freed all of our slaves." "Yes, you told me." He smiled. "Well, I just want you to know that I do consider a wife a man's property. You'll be mine." "We'll just have to see, won't we?" Callie said sweetly in reply. — Heather Graham

He pressed a kiss on her shoulder, enjoying the way she shivered. "What is it?"
There was a long pause, then a wobbly breath. "Why can't I resist you?"
"Because you don't want to."
Before she could reply, he spun her around and kissed her again. — Elle Kennedy

Suppose you were to come upon someone in the woods working feverishly to saw down a tree.
"What are you doing?" you ask.
"Can't you see?" comes the impatient reply. "I'm sawing down this tree."
"You look exhausted!" you exclaim. "How long have you been at it?"
"Over five hours," he returns, "and I'm beat! This is hard work."
'Well, why don't you take a break for a few minutes and sharpen that saw?" you inquire. "I'm sure it would go a lot faster."
"I don't have time to sharpen the saw," the man says emphatically. "I'm too busy sawing!" — Stephen Covey

'You are your" "Past, Present," "& Future,' he said" " 'You divide into" "those components" "in this room' " " 'But I do not have" "components!' " "our three voices said," " 'My
secret name - " "Time's secret name" "is Oneness," "is One Thing' " "As I - the one" "in the middle - spoke," "the one of us in front - " "who was the Past - " "had already" "finished speaking" "& was awaiting" "his reply" "He said," " 'Don't we seem" "to experience" "things
somewhat this way?" "There is past, present" :& future' " "The Future then cried out," " 'Where is my life?" 'Where is my life?" "You have stolen" "my life!' " "There was a silence" "The man" "reached out &" "pressed a button" "on the cave wall - " "we three united" "into
one again" "while he wrote words on" "a clipboard" "Then he looked up & said," " 'Going forward?" "Going on?" "Death lies ahead, you know' " "Any woman" "may already" "be dead,' " "I said — Alice Notley

Whatever the culture, there's a tongue in our head. Some use it, some hold it, some bite it. For the French it is a rapier, thrusting in attack; the English, using it defensively, mumble a vague, confusing reply; for Italians and Spaniards it is an instrument of eloquence; Finns and East Asians throw you with constructive silence. Silence is a form of speech, so don't interrupt it! — Richard D. Lewis

Our souls demand Purgatory, don't they? Would it not break the heart if God said to us, It is true, my son, that your breath smells and your rags drip with mud and slime, but we are charitable here and no one will upbraid you with these things, nor draw away from you. Enter into joy? Should we not reply, With submission, sir, and if there is no objection, I'd rather be cleansed first. It may hurt, you know-even so, sir. — C.S. Lewis

The world is what you believe it is," was the only reply I could make to her. If you think in the back of your mind, "I don't deserve this," then it won't work. And, if on top of that, you are afraid of "bills," or even "punishment," then you will create exactly that yourself. Because, "the world is what you believe it is! — Barbel Mohr

Is this about Archer? Please don't tell me you're upset about us, because ... I mean, you're dead."
She floated closer to me, until she was right in my face. At first I thought she was going to spit ectoplasm on me or something, but then I saw her lips moving again. I wasn't an expert lip-reader, but she was close enough and speaking slowly enough that I was able to make out what she said. "I told you," her pale lips mouthed, "that I'd haunt your ass."
I stared at her mouth, horrified, as she smirked. And then,just like that, she was gone. The air near my face wafted sligtly, like someone had just opened a window.
"I don't need this!" I said to the empty room. "Seriously, plate? FULL."
But there was no reply. — Rachel Hawkins

I didn't say what kind of book. You have a foul mind Bingley."
"Don't mock me on my sister's wedding day!"
"I mocked you on yours; I hardly see how this is as bad," was Darcy's reply. — Marsha Altman

Helen, don't."
"I thought it was only a misunderstanding. I thought if I spoke to you directly, everything would be s-sorted out, and - " Another sob choked her. She was so consumed by emotion that she was only vaguely aware of Rhys hovering around her, reaching for her and snatching his hands back.
"No. Don't cry. For God's sake, Helen - "
"I didn't mean to push you away. I didn't know what to do. How can I make you want me again?"
She expected a jeering reply, or perhaps even a pitying one. The last thing she expected was his shaken murmur.
"I do want you, cariad. I want you too damned much."
She blinked at him through a bewildered blur, breathing in mortifying hiccups, like a child. In the next moment, he had hauled her firmly against him.
"Hush, now." His voice dropped to a deeper octave, a brush of dark velvet against her ears. "Hush, bychan, little one, my dove. Nothing is worth your tears."
"You are. — Lisa Kleypas

I will not be quiet. I cannot believe you're moving to Greece. That's ... that's insane."
Now hang on a second!
"It's not insane," I shot back.
"It is! Who moves to Greece? Do you know a single soul who's moved to Greece?" He didn't give me a chance to reply before he continued, "No? Me neither. No one moves to Greece. Goes there. Yes. Gets laid. Definitely. Drinks ouzo. Lots of it. Gets a sunburn. Of course! But you don't move there! — Kristen Ashley

DEMON MATH
What is JUST in a world
you've ripped in two
as if there could be
a half for me
a half for you
what is FAIR when
there is nothing
left to share
what is YOURS when
your pain is mine to bear
this sad math is mine
this mad path is mine
subtract they say
don't cry
back to the desk
try
forget addition
multiply
and i reply
this is why
remainders
hate
division. — Kami Garcia

Shut up!" Henry says, "You're going to wake up Jerry Rice."
"Jerry Rice?" Carter says, covering his mouth with a hand. I don't think I've ever seen Carter laugh so hard.
"Carter, would you like to be the godfather?" Henry asks. "You know, in case anything happens to me and Woods this week?"
"Charming," Carter says. "I'd be honored. Does JJ get to be godmother?"
"Obviously," I say.
"Can I hold Jerry Rice?" JJ asks. "He's so cute."
"No way, man," I reply. "I don't want to wake that thing up before practice. We'll be late if we have to feed it."
"What does it eat?" Carter asks.
"I have to breast-feed, cause I'm the mom," Henry says, continuing to push the stroller toward the locker room.
"Actually," I say, "It eats a metal rod, made out of, like, lead. So basically, we're learning how to poison babies."
"Radical," JJ says as we approach the gym, — Miranda Kenneally

Brook, you don't sound like yourself."

My reply came out of my mouth before I could choose it. "I am not the person I was three weeks ago and I will never be that person again."

Surprised by my own response, I relayed it to my therapist who was helping me work through issues surrounding my brother's death. "Of course you're not," she said. "And one of the best things you can do for yourself is to know that you are a different person now. — Brook Noel

I'm going in," Gansey said as Ronan sat down on the step beside Adam. As Gansey shut the door behind him, he heard Adam say, "I don't want to talk," and Ronan reply, "The fuck would I talk about? — Maggie Stiefvater

People tell me they open my e-mails first, because they aren't demands and you don't need to reply. They're simply for pleasure. — David Hockney

I don't reply. Surely Tucker wouldn't bring someone back to a room knowing that I'll be in the bed too, first shot. He wouldn't do anything with her after last night, this morning and this afternoon, second shot. Although he is all over her and has been since we got here, third shot. Maybe I didn't drop my knickers quick enough, fourth shot. He's probably laughing at me for everything I told him about the dream and stuff I wince and slam the now empty jager bomb glass down. — R.S. Burnett

I think that every one whom you may ask how to write a play will reply, if he really can write one, that he doesn't know how it is done. It is a little as if you were to ask Romeo what he did to fall in love with Juliet and to make her love him; he would reply that he did not know, that it simply happened.
Well, my dear friend, if you want me to be quite frank, I'll own up that I don't know how to write a play. One day a long time ago, when I was scarcely out of school, I asked my father the same question. He answered: It's very simple; the first act clear, the last act short, and all the acts interesting. — Alexandre Dumas-fils

A veteran, calm and assured, he pauses for a well-measured moment in the doorway of the office and then, boldly, clearly, with the subtly modulated British intonation which his public demands of him, speaks his opening line, 'Good morning!'
And the three secretaries - each of them a charming and accomplished actress in her own chosen style - recognise him instantly, without even a flicker of doubt, and reply 'Good morning' to him. (There is something religious here, like responses in church; a reaffirmation of faith in the basic American dogma, that it is, always, a Good Morning. Good, despite the Russians and their rockets, and all the ills and worries of the flesh. For of course we know, don't we, that the Russians and the worries are not real? They can be unsought and made to vanish. And therefore the morning can ve made to be good. Very well then, it is good. — Christopher Isherwood

My lady," says Aladdin, extending an arm toward the sun, "I give you gold as a token of my love."
"All I want is you," I reply. I turn and kiss him, pulling him against me, feeling the warmth of the dawn in my hair. Then I rest my head on his shoulder, simply feeling his arms around me, his heart beating against me.
"Are you cold?" asks Aladdin. "You're shivering."
"A little."
"I'll go get a blanket. And breakfast. If I can find the kitchen."
"Galley, love. It's called a galley."
"Right. Galley. Got it. I'll ask the captain. What was his name?"
"Sinbad, I think?"
"I'll be right back."
But I catch his hand. "I'm all right. Don't go yet."
He stays with me, and together we watch the sun stain the sea and sky a thousand and one shades of gold. My thumb rubs the ring on my finger, its dents and contours as familiar to me now as my hand.
So this is what it feels like to have all your wishes come true. — Jessica Khoury

Dear 2600: OK I have some real serious stuff to tell but I need to be reassured that I can trust your company that you don't do this sorta thing just so you can turn people in then I will tell my very serious and true story for you but I must be reassured first please reply. ANONYMOUS
How can we lie to you? We published 2600 for 16 years just so you would finally walk into our little trap. Welcome. — Emmanuel Goldstein

I just try to put the thing out and hope somebody will read it. Someone says: 'Whom do you write for?' I reply: 'Do you read me?' If they say 'Yes,' I say, 'Do you like it?' If they say 'No,' then I say, 'I don't write for you.' — W. H. Auden

I am just typing my reply when another message comes through. Don't you just hate it when that happens? Anyway, I delete what I have started and read what's been sent.
"How daring do you feel?"
Frowning as to what is written on the screen I type, "That's a bit cryptic. What do you mean?"
"Take a look around you, then you can judge how daring you are as I ask you to touch yourself. — A.J. Walters

Come aboard, come aboard!" cried the gay Bachelor's commander, lifting a glass and a bottle in the air. "Hast seen the White Whale?" gritted Ahab in reply. "No; only heard of him; but don't believe in him at all," said the other good-humoredly. "Come aboard!" "Thou art too damned jolly. Sail on. Hast lost any men?" "Not enough to speak of - two islanders, that's all; - but come aboard, old hearty, come along. I'll soon take that black from your brow. Come along, will ye (merry's the play); a full ship and homeward-bound." "How wondrous familiar is a fool!" muttered Ahab; then aloud, "Thou art a full ship and homeward bound, thou sayest; well, then, call me an empty ship, and outward-bound. So go thy ways, and I will mine. Forward there! Set all sail, and keep her to the wind! — Herman Melville

When they say Don't I know you? say no.
When they invite you to the party
remember what parties are like
before answering.
Someone telling you in a loud voice
they once wrote a poem.
Greasy sausage balls on a paper plate.
Then reply.
If they say we should get together.
say why? It's not that you don't love them any more.
You're trying to remember something
too important to forget.
Trees.
The monastery bell at twilight.
Tell them you have a new project.
It will never be finished. When someone recognizes you in a grocery store
nod briefly and become a cabbage.
When someone you haven't seen in ten years
appears at the door,
don't start singing him all your new songs.
You will never catch up.
Walk around feeling like a leaf. Know you could tumble any second.
Then decide what to do with your time. — Naomi Shihab Nye

My mom tries to comfort me by saying that girls like Heather Campbell tend to peak early in life and then quickly fade. That's why she looks so much better than everyone now. But by the time I go to my ten-year reunion, I'll be way prettier than she is. To which I always reply with the same statement, "I don't want to be pretty in ten years. I want to be pretty now."
Because what good is it to me now that I might or might not be drop-dead gorgeous when I'm twenty-seven? It's not like I can go to school every day with a big cardboard sign around my neck that says, "Trust me, in ten years, I'll look like this." And then an arrow pointing to a picture of a supermodel. — Jessica Brody

Edwards refused to suppose an opposition between the understanding and the affections. In other words, if a person said, "I know God cares for me, but I am still paralyzed by fear," Edwards would reply, "Then that means you don't truly know that God cares for you. If you did, then the affection of confidence and hope would be rising within you. — Timothy J. Keller

You know," said Makenna, breaking into his thoughts, "I think I'd have a decent shot of surviving a zombie apocalypse. What about you guys?"
And just like that, the tension melted away.
"She does that a lot." Zac chuckled. "Ask weird questions, I mean." He twisted slightly in his seat to reply, "Um ... yeah, I think I could." Then he looked at Ryan. "You?"
Ryan opened and closed his mouth three times. "I don't know how to involve myself in this conversation. — Suzanne Wright

Just before I drop into a chair in my English classroom I pick up my phone and send Nolan a text.
"What if there's a day when I can't be there with my mom when she's at home?"
I don't even have to wait thirty seconds before he sends his reply:
"Then I'll be there — Paige McKenzie

Hey, Salvo," asked Max when they had almost fallen asleep. "May I write your story?"
"Don't you dare, amico" was Salvatore's reply. "Kindly come up with your own storia, young Massimo. If you take mine, I'll have none left of my own — Nina George

You run toward things, not away from them. I don't know who you are, except you're not Harry Potter. There's something about you, I don't know what it is, but it's something, and it's good. Only a worse fool than I would reply to that, for any response would diminish either her or me, or both of us. Such genuine trust, so sweetly expressed, bears witness to an innocence in the human heart that endures even in this broken world and that longs to ring the bell backward and undo the days of history until all such trust would be justified in a world started anew and as it always should have been. — Dean Koontz

Do you have some big secret life I don't know about?' Connor jokes. 'Who would be calling you at midnight?'
'I have no idea,' I reply. 'But I'm pretty sure I only have one secret life. — Wendy Mass

This is what I mean..." I say softly, "you don't seem very angel-y right now"

"I'm not feeling very angel-y right now", he reply — A.J. Messenger

Mark raised his eyebrows, 'you don't know the half of it,' he further mumbled, more to himself than in reply to Frankie. 'But listen up; because this isn't about me anyway; this is about you, about how you need to sort it out, yeah? This is all about you getting yourself a girl, and settling down, right?'

Frankie offered up a wistful kind of sigh, supping his pint as those heavily suggestive words immediately grated: settle down and never settle up. — Tom Conrad

He looked up as the party emerged and nickered a soft hello to his master, who was dressed in an unfamiliar green cloak and had dirt plastered on his face. Halt glanced at him, brow furrowed, and silently mouthed the words 'shut up'. Abelardshook his mane, which was as close as a horse could come to shruging, and turned away.
'My horse recognized me,' Halt said accusingly out of the side of his mouth to Horace.
Horace glanced at the small shagging horse, standing beside his own massive battlehorse.
'Mine didn't,' he replied. 'So that's a fifty-fifty result.'
'I think I'd like odds better than that,' Halt replied.
Horace suppressed a grin. 'Don't worry. He can probably smell you.'
'I can smell myself,' Halt replied acerbically. 'I smell of tea and soot.'
Horace thought it was wiser not to reply to that. — John Flanagan

Well, that's it." I said after we had waited for another five minutes and found ourselves still in a state of pleasantly welcome existence. "The ChronoGuard has shut itself down and time travel is as it should be: technically, logically, and theoretically ... impossible." "Good thing, too," reply Landon. "It always made my head ache. In fact, I was thinking of doing self help book for science-fiction novelists eager to write about time travel. It would consist of a single word: Don't. — Jasper Fforde

Baby girl, you destroy me," he whispered against her lips. "You have to tell me if you don't want this because I'm holding on by a thread."
"Then let go," she whispered in reply. — Rachel Harris

I do not think you would be so quick to approve if it was your son," he said. The Major frowned as he tried to quell the immediate recognition that the young man was right. He fumbled for a reply that would be true but also helpful. "I do not mean to offend you," added Abdul Wahid.
"Not at all," said the Major. "You are not wrong - at least, in the abstract. I would be unhappy to think of my son becoming entangled in such a way and any people, including myself, may be guilty of a certain smug feeling that it would never happen in our families."
"I thought so," said Abdul Wahid with a grimace.
"Now, don't you get offended, either," said the Major. "What I'm trying to say is that I think that is how everyone feels in the abstract. But then life hands you something concrete - something concrete like little George - and abstracts have to go out the window. — Helen Simonson

Long ago a monk asked an old master, "When hundreds, thousands, or myriads of objects come all at once, what should be done?"
The master replied, "Don't try to control them"
What he means is that in whatever way objects come, do not try to change them. Whatever comes is the buddha-dharma, not objects at all. Do not understand the master's reply as merely a brilliant admonition, but realize that it is the truth. Even if you try to control what comes, it cannot be controlled. — Dogen

I have come a hundred miles," said a minister, "to get some of Mr. Moody's spirit." " You don't want my spirit," was the reply. "What you want is the Spirit of God. — Dwight L. Moody

Please beware," came his reply, "There are a lot of people who believe that just because we don't have an explanation for something, it's quantum mechanics. — Mary Roach

The proper reply to right wing religiosity is not to insist that politics and religion don't mix. This is the stock response of the left. — Christopher Lasch

Well?' Jasper said when Mairelon did not reply. 'Who are you?'
'No, no,' Mairelon said. 'I asked you first. I also, if you recall, asked how you found this place and what you intend to do here, and you haven't told me that, either.'
'We might ask you the same thing,' Jasper retorted.
'You might, but I don't recommend it,' Mairelon said. 'You'll get a reputation as a poor conversationalist if you all can do is repeat what other people say to you. — Patricia C. Wrede

People often ask me what advice I have for writers, and I reply that the most important responsibility I believe a writer has is to his or her personal truth. Don't be misled by the best seller lists. Just do what feels true to you. Speak your heart, however strange or revelatory it is. Don't be ashamed of how your imagination works. What a reader wants to discover in a book is what you hold uniquely in your head.I think making stories which touch people deeply is always hard. I've been writing plays and books for 20 years and I still go to my desk every morning with a mixture of excitement and dread. — Clive Barker

How do you manage for money?' I asked.

I was given two simultaneous replies of 'We get by' from Ian and 'Don't ask' from Neil. I favoured Ian's reply because it had less-sinister connotations. 'Don't ask' left open the possibility that they raised funds by selling hitch-hikers into slavery. I changed the subject. — Tony Hawks

In my world," said Posy, "authors write stories, and the characters do whatever the author tells them. It's not like this--the characters don't have minds and lives of their own."
"How do you know this?" was Caris' surprising reply. The corner of her mouth turned up in a playful smile. "You do not see the characters when the pages of the book are shut. Is there never a time when you read a book for the second time and you notice something that you didn't remember from the first time? Or hear a story told, and every time it is told it grows and changes in the telling? Change is the nature of everything. — Ashlee Willis

What the fuck is that?" I ask Uncle Drew as he walks up to us. "That, my little asshole, is a screaming goat. Molly showed me this awesome video on YouTube and I had to get one," Uncle Drew says with a huge smile. "GAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAH!" Uncle Drew turns around and points proudly to a little black and white goat tied to one of Aunt Liz and Uncle Jim's trees. "Isn't she cute? Her name is Taylor Swift." "GAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAH!" the goat screams as she looks right at us. "I don't even understand what is happening right now," I reply with a shake of my head. "I've been trying to teach her - " "GAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAH!" "How to sing a - " "GAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAH!" "Song, but she never comes in at the right - " "GAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAH! — Tara Sivec

Gavin's reply was almost too soft to be heard. "That's a crime." "Pardon? What is?" "That you don't get to handle wood as often as you'd like." "Sorry?" Derrick blinked in confusion, missing the innuendo entirely for a split second before his brain made the connection. — Amelia C. Gormley

Listen to me," Iris said again. "If we attempt this piece, we will
be massacred."
"By whom?" Daisy asked.
Iris just looked at her, completely unable to articulate a reply.
"By the music," Sarah put in.
"Oh, you've decided to join the discussion, then," Honoria said.
"Don't be sarcastic," Sarah snipped.
"Where were the two of you when I was trying to pick
something out?"
"They were moving the piano."
"Daisy!" all three of them yelled.
"What did I say?" Daisy demanded.
"Try not to be so literal," Iris snapped. — Julia Quinn

I just don't understand how you can get so much comfort from a religion whose language does so much harm." ... I realized that what troubled me most was her use of the word "comfort," so in my reply I addressed that first. I said that I didn't think it was comfort I was seeking, or comfort that I'd found. Look, I said to her, as a rush of words came to me. As far as I'm concerned, this religion has saved my life, my husband's life, and our marriage. So it's not comfort that I'm talking about but salvation. — Kathleen Norris

When asked why I don't believe in God I reply, quite simply, "vaginas". — Robert Clark

What do you think it is to be normal?'
Why in the world would you want to be?' she says.
I don't know. I guess that's the problem.'
I don't think normal is that great.'
But so many people choose it,' I reply.
I don't think that's it at all. I think most everyone is normal and some of us, for whatever reason, choose to reject that and wear ruby red slippers or old black hats.'
Well, why do we choose the hard road? — Patrick Jones

A wise man once asked to his mentor, "What advice would you give the average investor?" his reply was, "DON'T BE AVERAGE. — Celeste Young

When you look at her what do you feel?" "Are you fucking serious? Forget it." He can kiss my ass if he wants to start talking feelings with me. "You obviously want it for a reason." "I want a picture to jack off to. What do you care?" I keep drawing so I don't have to look at him, but I'm mutilating the sketch I'm working on. I'll have to start over, but I don't care. "Joy, fear, frustration, longing, friendship, anger, need, despair, love, lust?" "Yes." "Yes, what?" "All of it," I reply, because I'm all in now whether I like it or not. — Katja Millay

Before Westcliff could launch into an unwanted diatribe regarding Annabelle, Simon sought to distract him. "You don't seem to rub on well with Miss Bowman," he remarked.
As a diversionary tactic, the mention of Lillian Bowman was supremely effective.
Westcliff responded with a surly grunt. "The ill-mannered brat dared to imply that Miss Peyton's mishap was my fault," he said, pouring a brandy for himself.
Simon raised his brows. "How could it be your fault?"
"Miss Bowman seems to think that, as their host, it was my responsibility to ensure that my estate wasn't 'overrun with a plague of poisonous vipers,' as she put it."
"How did you reply?"
"I pointed out to Miss Bowman that the guests who choose to remain clothed when they venture out of doors don't usually seem to get bitten by adders."
Simon couldn't help grinning at that. — Lisa Kleypas

Cuz I look like Barbie." I reply, knowing they can connect the dots. "Bad girls don't like Barbie?" Michael asks, both his eyebrows rising. "No. Bad girls want to rip Barbie's head off and flush it down the toilet, — Amy A. Bartol

I'll be back," she said. "Very soon."
He needed to reply. He needed to say Good, come back; better, Don't go; or better still, I'll join you. He wanted to say, Your neck is beautiful. He wanted to say, I never ever thought my life would hold this, and if your leaving is what I must give for what I was given, then it was worth it.
But the children were all around and Mr Abasi was calling out and motioning for her to come, and anyway, he knew now, if he hadn't known before, that there were limitations to words - words in the air or on a page. — Masha Hamilton

Oh, I thought you were trying to build a canal. If it's jobs you want, then you should give these workers spoons, not shovels. [Reply to the government bureaucrat of one Asian country who told him that, reason why there were workers with shovels instead of modern tractors and earth movers at a worksite of a new canal, was that: "You don't understand. This is a jobs program."] — Milton Friedman

If anyone should tell you that a particular person has spoken critically of you, don't bother with excuses or defenses. Just smile and reply, "I guess that person doesn't know about all my other faults. Otherwise, he wouldn't have mentioned only these." — Epictetus

Moaning about how his own brilliance disadvantaged him was not a recipe for popularity. Stanley was initially as isolated in high school as Shirley would be in Rochester: "miserably lonely, reading prodigiously, hating everyone, and wishing I had enough courage to talk to girls." One day a boy he recognized from class sat down next to him in the locker room. Stanley, trying to make conversation as he best knew how, asked his classmate if he read Poe. "No, I read very well, thank you," came the reply. Stanley responded huffily that he didn't think puns were very clever. "I don't either," said the other boy, "but they're something I can't help, like a harelip. — Ruth Franklin

In reply to "Why are people at school such d*cks"
Cause they're sad and scared and insecure. Don't let them spread it to you. Try and spread confidence and kindness — Patrick Stump