Girl Speaks Quotes & Sayings

He holds my gaze, and the look in his eyes is a love letter in itself. When he speaks, his voice is rough. "Will you marry me, Cate?"
I go still, the question hanging in the air. I have never felt more accepted 'for the girl I am, not the girl I want to be' never more loved and respected than I am in this moment. It's a choice, and it's mine to make.
"Yes," I breathe.
Finn slides the simple gold band onto my ring finger. I tilt it, and the ruby sparkles, catching the sunlight. He leans down and brushes his lips against mine, sealing the promise. 'I can't wait to make you my wife.'
'Cate Belastra.' I try it out and despite the solemnity of the moment, despite knowing what this will cost him, I can't help smiling. — Jessica Spotswood

Studies show: Intelligent girls are more depressed Because they know What the world is really like Don't think for a beat it makes it better When you sit her down and tell her Everything gonna be all right She knows in society she either is A devil or an angel with no in between She speaks in the third person So she can forget that she's me — Emilie Autumn

My beloved Eudosia [a member of Buckley's household staff], who is Cuban, very large, quite old, and altogether superstitious, and speaks only a word or two of English (even though she has been with us for 19 years), is quite certain that the gentleman who raped the 16-year-old girl in New Caanan three years ago and escaped has successfully eluded the police only because of his resourceful determination to ravage Eudosia before he dies. Accordingly she demanded, and I gave her, a shotgun, into which I have inserted two empty shells. Still, Eudosia with blank cartridges is more formidable than Eugene McCarthy with The Bomb. — William F. Buckley Jr.

I tweeted once, and I still stick to this, that I would love to marry a Croatian girl. I want my children to speak Croatian first, and for them to do that, we need someone who speaks very good Croatian. — Nathaniel Buzolic

There is a social contract between the readers/buyers of romance novels and the novelists who write them. It's this: the girl ends up with the guy about whom and for which legions of fans have been pining. It's the reason we pick up romance novels in the first place. We want to read about a coupling so intense, it speaks to a deep place inside of us, an atavistic need to be consumed by lust, passion and love. That is the social contract. — Allison

Now, who else speaks for Perdido Beach?"
Bouncing Bette said, "Sam Temple here went into a burning building to rescue a little girl. He can speak for me, anyway."
There was a murmur of agreement.
"Yeah, Sam is a hero for real," a voice said.
"He could have died," another voice seconded.
"Yeah, Sam's the guy."
Caine's smile came and disappeared so quickly, Sam wasn't sure it had happened. For that millisecond it was a look of triumph. Caine walked straight up to Sam, open and forthright, hand extended.
"There are probably better people than me," Sam said, backing away. — Michael Grant

Consciousness is a magic of our brain and an illusion of our mind. — Debasish Mridha

She was awakened by a strange buzzing sound coming from somewhere nearby. Her stomach ached. She felt sick. Her head was spinning. Slowly, she half-opened her eyes, squinting against the sunlight streaming in through a window. She was naked apart from her socks. The weird buzzing came again. She lay on her back and looked up, seeing a large revolving ceiling fan. She tried to remember where she was. — G.H. Finn

I'm basically just a normal girl from West London who speaks from her heart and who loves music. — Rita Ora

So here's the deal:
I speak up in class, I get sent to office. Megan speaks up in class, she's a "strong, assertive model student."I post a few flyers saying that the vending machines on school property are a sign that our school has sold out to corporate-industrial establishment, I get (what else?) Saturday detention. Megan starts a campaign to serve local foods in the lunchroom (oh, and can we please maybe get rid of the soda machines?) and the local newspaper does a write-up about her.
She's like me, only not. Not like me at all. She's the golden girl and I'm ... tarnished.
So forgive me if I hate her a little. — Katie Alender

In Paranoid Park there is this Punk girl that keeps looking straight into The camera when she speaks, It's like she's speaking to us. — James Franco

When the girl you're casually screwing and dating starts to look like she was literally sent from Heaven, you better reassess your priorities before someone gets hurt. Especially when she speaks like the spawn of Satan. — Andrea Randall

Sometimes I still feel that there are two of me: one clean, flawless picture, the other imperfect and cracked; one boy, one girl; one voice that speaks aloud and one that whispers in my ear; one publicly known to have been troubled but be on the mend, the other who has privately lost something to do with innocence and gained something to do with knowledge and adulthood that can never be undone. I feel sometimes there are things that tear me in two directions, that there are two sets of thoughts that grow side by side. But then I realize that I am whole, whatever that means and does not mean; I am complete without the need for additions or alteration. — Abigail Tarttelin

Once you don't vote your ideals ... that has serious undermining affects. It erodes the moral basis of our democracy. — Ralph Nader

They then praise me for traits I don't think I even have. Amiable presence? Hah! Lady of legends? OK, that sounds pretty cool. But righteous? Honourable? Composed? Did they just grab a dictionary and choose a bunch of positive words? And calling me polite, the girl who talks with her mouth full, the girl who speaks her mind at the worst moments, the girl who has no intention of hiding when she's bored, annoyed or offended in order to respect the other person? Well, they'll soon realise that polite was far from the truth. I'm not exactly impolite towards them, but I hate phoneys, and I have being phoney, too. Somehow, though, my upfront comments only spawn more of these exaggerated compliments: 'What a sincere girl!' and 'We need a Pulsar of such boldness. — Giselle Simlett

The stranger astonished him more and more by her dignified and serious manner. It's usually the case, isn't it, that a young girl giggles when a man speaks with her, or else blushes, hides her face, and behaves awkwardly? The stranger was nothing like this. She maintained her poise, natural, cold and majestic. He delighted in her bearing, his fascination growing all the time; his eyes sparkled and his half-open mouth, showing his white teeth, made him look as if he needed to breathe more than usual. — Leopold Von Sacher-Masoch

Hatred is the spiritual malignancy of our species, and like any other form of cancer, does its most terrible work not outwardly, but from within us. — Marianne Williamson

Lollypop
... the passion contained merely kisses
placed upon lips, neck and cheek
these young lovers of the castle
of which our fairytale speaks ... — Muse

Eleanor Roosevelt loved to write. She was a wonderful child writer. I mean, she wrote beautiful essays and stories as a child. And Marie Souvestre really appreciated Eleanor Roosevelt's talents and encouraged her talents. Also, she spoke perfect French. She grew up speaking French. She's now at a french-speaking school where, you know, girls are coming from all over the world. Not everybody speaks French. — Blanche Wiesen Cook

We've come to kill Zarek of Moesia, and if you get in our way, little girl, we're going to kill you. (Otto) I'll be damned. He speaks. Or rather growls. (Jess) But not for long if he doesn't watch his mouth. For the record, Squire, it would take more man than you to even scratch me. (Syra) I live for a woman who scratches. Just make sure you keep it on the back, baby. I don't like scars. (Otto) — Sherrilyn Kenyon

The sky is a girl who speaks in thunder, moves in lightning, hides her sorrow with clouds, cries in raindrops,and apologises with rainbows. — Jenim Dibie

Sometimes I speak to men and women just as a little girl speaks to her doll. She knows, of course, that the doll does not understand her, but she creates for herself the joy of communication through a pleasant and conscious self-deception. — Arthur Schopenhauer

I want to let my fans know that I will not hold myself back anymore. Everybody knows me as "15-Year-Old Little Jessica who was on 'American Idol' and who is this sweet, quiet girl." I am very soft-spoken, but I have gone through numerous experiences, and I want to speak out and tell people what has been going on in my life. — Jessica Sanchez

The sky [above Tehran] was like a star-eaten black blanket, and so far as I could read them its constellations were unfamiliar. Lawrence speaks somewhere of drawing 'strength from the depths of the universe'; Malcolm Lowry speaks about the deadness of the stars except when he looked at them with a particular girl; I had neither feeling. The founder of the Jesuits used to spend many hours under the stars; it is hard to be certain whether his first stirrings of scientific speculation or pre-scientific wonder about space and the stars in their own nature were some element in his affinity with starlight, or whether for him they were only a point of departure, but in this matter I think I am about fifty years more modern than Saint Ignatius; stars mean to me roughly what they meant to Donne's generation, a bright religious sand imposing the sense of an intrusion into human language, and arousing a certain personal thirst to be specific. — Peter Levi

We did something very simple," Effie says.
"Yes, and what was that?"
Effie Mumford stares off the porch into the night sky. The first stars of the evening are quietly arriving, and Billy, following her gaze, listens as the small girl speaks.
"We allowed ourselves, for one brief moment, to believe in something we could not see. — Joe Meno

The Mania Speaks


You clumsy bootlegger. Little daffodil.
I watered you with an ocean and you plucked one little vein?
Downed a couple bottles of pills and got yourself carted off to the ER?
I gifted you the will of gunpowder, a matchstick tongue, and all you managed
was a shredded sweater and a police warning?
You should be legend by now.
Girl in an orange jumpsuit, a headline.
I built you from the purest napalm, fed you wine and bourbon.
Preened you in the dark, hammered lullabies into your thin skull.
I painted over the walls, wrote the poems. I shook your goddamn boots.
Now you want out? Think you'll wrestle me out of you with prescriptions?
A good man's good love and some breathing exercises?
You think I can't tame that? I always come home. Always.
Ravenous. Loaded. You know better than anybody:
I'm bigger than God. — Jeanann Verlee

I'd love to think that I'm a super human being, but I'm not. — Colleen Hanabusa

Wal-Mart, we've been known for many years - back to the days of when Sam Walton started the company - we've been known for basics. The basic need of families and people across America. Wal-Mart was known as the place for basics. — Mike Duke

Even here, the soldiers speak of the hunt for the Empire's greatest traitor. And they speak of the girl you travel with: Laia of Serra. And - and the Artist . . . sometimes in his nightmares, he speaks too." "What does he say?" "Her name," Tas whispers. "Laia. He cries out her name - and he tells her to run. — Sabaa Tahir

I am no fashion diva - I grew up on the beaches in South Africa and am a nature girl that spends a lot of time outdoors. Fashion speaks to me through an occasion. — Tanit Phoenix

There's such a stigma around girls' periods, and women's sexuality - girls can't speak out for themselves or be who they want to be. I think that coming from the social platform that I have, I try to be a positive influence, and this was something that I felt needed to be seen and heard. — Chloe Grace Moretz

She's the one who sits in the back of the classroom.
The one who never raises her hand.
The one who might be the smartest girl you'll ever know.
But ever time she speaks some one speaks their opinion before her.
She's the one who cries herself to sleep.
Who you never see in the hallways.
Who is always late to class because she wants to avoid the wretched bitterness that halls expose.
Who never tells anyone her problems.
Who slices her wrists to get rid of pain.
She is the girl who will never be the same.
She is the girl who will never think she is ever good enough.
She's the one who is feeling like she has no purpose.
She is the one that can raise her voice and stop the bullying but will never choose to.
She might be your best friend.
She might be your daughter.
She might be your girlfriend.
She might just be the girl in the back of you class.
And she will never live the same life she once did. — Sarah Mares