Going On Thirty Quotes & Sayings

Mrs. Zuppa was coming in from bingo just as I was leaving the building.
"Looks like you're going to work," she said, leaning heavily on her cane. "What are you packin'?"
"A thirty-eight."
"I like a nine-millimeter myself."
"A nine's good."
"Easier to use a semiautomatic after you've had hip replacement and you walk with a cane," she said.
One of those useful pieces of information to file away and resurrect when I turn eighty-three. — Janet Evanovich

A concrete example of this mechanism is found in one of the most alarming phenomena of the last thirty years: the enormous increase in the police force of all countries. The increase of population has inevitably rendered it necessary. However accustomed we may be to it, the terrible paradox should not escape our minds that the population of a great modern city, in order to move about peaceably and attend to its business, necessarily requires a police force to regulate the circulation. But it is foolishness for the party of "law and order" to imagine that these "forces of public authority" created to preserve order are always going to be content to preserve the order that that party desires. Inevitably they will end by themselves defining and deciding on the order they are going to impose- which, naturally, will be that which suits them best. — Ortega Y Gasset

In the the late seventies and early eighties, I played background roles in thirty movies ... Woody Allen movies, Scorsese films, you name it. Whatever was being shot in New York, I was doing stand-in and background work because I wanted to be close to the camera; I wanted to see what was going on. — Tobin Bell

BERNSTEIN: "I'll read you the first few paragraphs." (He got as far as the third. Mitchell responded, "JEEEEEEEEESUS" every few words.) MITCHELL: "All that crap, you're putting it in the paper? It's all been denied. Katie Graham's gonna get her tit caught in a big fat wringer if that's published. Good Christ! That's the most sickening thing I ever heard." BERNSTEIN: "Sir, I'd like to ask you a few questions about - " MITCHELL: "What time is it?" BERNSTEIN: "Eleven thirty. I'm sorry to call so late." MITCHELL: "Eleven thirty. Eleven thirty when?" BERNSTEIN: "Eleven thirty at night." MITCHELL: "Oh." BERNSTEIN: "The committee has issued a statement about the story, but I'd like to ask you a few questions about the specifics of what the story contains." MITCHELL: "Did the committee tell you to go ahead and publish that story? You fellows got a great ballgame going. As soon as you're through paying Ed Williams* and the rest of those fellows, we're going to do a story on all of you. — Carl Bernstein

In thirty years of going to study in Medina, "sitting with the 'ulama," "making hijrah," distributing books from Saudi Arabia, making Dawah, pointing out bid'as, tearing down imams, taking over mosques, backbiting Muslims, putting people on and off "the minhaj," and calling other Muslims names, Salafis have established absolutely nothing. — Umar Lee

Something was beyond wrong. Sebeck looked at the faces of the agents and police arrayed around him. There was abject hatred in their eyes. Burning anger. He knew that look. It was the look reserved for the vilest criminals. They were closing in from two directions - leaving a clear field of fire. Twenty or thirty heavily armed men. Sebeck glanced at Ross, who already had his hands on his head. "What the hell is going on, Jon?" "I don't know. But the Daemon's got something to do with it." "This is your last warning! Put your hands on your head, or we will open fire!" Sebeck felt his blood rising. He put his hands on the back of his head but looked to Ross. "Why are they looking at me?" "I don't know." The Feds hit Sebeck like linebackers. They — Daniel Suarez

There are thirty kids there, too," Justineau adds. "And most of your men. What are we going to do? Just walk away from them?" "That's exactly what we're going to do," Parks tells them. "If you shut up, I'll tell you why. I've been up on that radio every ten or fifteen minutes since we stopped. Not only is there no answer from the base, there's no answer full stop. Nobody else got out of there. Or if they did, they got out without wheels or comms, which means they might just as well be on another planet as far as we're concerned. There's no way to get their attention right now without getting the junkers bouncing at us too. If we meet them on the road, that's great. Otherwise, we're alone, and the only sensible thing to do is to head for home fires. For Beacon." Caldwell — M.R. Carey

On the morning that they were going to kill him, Santiago Nasar got up at five-thirty in the morning to wait for the boat bishop was coming on. — Gabriel Garcia Marquez

My mouth drops when she slides his hoodie off and pushes her fingers into his dark locks that are cut short on the sides, but left longer on top. Not too long, just enough to grab a hold of. I've been waiting months and she's known him for thirty-seconds and is already touching him. He says something to her causing her to nod as he takes her hand and leads them off the dance floor. "Where's he going?" I ask again. — Heidi McLaughlin

A common and depressing assumption on the part of many college students is that they must stay on the academic rails until they are professionally established - go directly to grad school from college and directly from grad school to a job, as if there were some big rush and even a few years lost would put them catastrophically behind everyone else. Nonsense. Suppose you intend to retire at sixty-five. If you don't start your career until you're thirty, that still gives you thirty-five years to make it professionally. If you can't make it in thirty-five years, you weren't going to make it in forty or forty-five. — Charles Murray

Guys won't admit it, but we're all obsessed with our biceps. I did three sets of ten reps, thirty-five pounds on each side. I knew I was pushing it, especially since we have practice this afternoon, but what the fuck. That was going to be my motto today. What the fuck. — Carolyn Mackler

Hauk!" a man shouted in the hallway outside.
He fell back from the door and braced himself against the wall. Sumi went low in the center of the room, behind a crate.
"What?" Dancer answered.
"Surrender or we're going to kill them all! Piece by piece, until their screams echo in your ears!"
Dancer laughed at the threat. "You do that and I will eat you, piece by fucking piece. The three of them are the only thing keeping you alive right now. Release them and we'll let you live. It's your choice on how you leave this place. On your feet or feet first. You have thirty seconds to decide. — Sherrilyn Kenyon

That's why it's always worth having a few philosophers around the place. One minute it's all is truth beauty and is beauty truth, and does a falling tree in the forest make a sound if there's no one there to hear it, and then just when you think they're going to start dribbling one of 'em says, incidentally, putting a thirty-foot parabolic reflector on a high place to shoot the rays of the sun at an enemy's ships would be a very interesting demonstration of optical principles. — Terry Pratchett

I am ninety. Or ninety-three. One or the other. When you're five, you know your age down to the month. Even in your twenties you know how old you are. I'm twenty-three, you say, or maybe twenty-seven. But then in your thirties something strange starts to happen. It's a mere hiccup at first, an instant of hesitation. How old are you? Oh, I'm - you start confidently, but then you stop. You were going to say thirty-three, but you're not. You're thirty-five. And then you're bothered, because you wonder if this is the beginning of the end. It is, of course, but it's decades before you admit it. You start to forget words: they're on the tip of your tongue, but instead of eventually dislodging, they stay there. You go upstairs to fetch something, and by the time you get there you can't remember what it was you were after. — Anonymous

Here are my politics: I love music and painting; a good book is an event for me; I'm going on forty-four. How much time do I have left? Fifteen, twenty, thirty years at most? Very well! I maintain that in thirty years ministers will be a bit shrewder, but just about as honest as they are today. — Stendhal

You boys are really turning into a bunch of Peter Pans," he said. "Willem, what are you? Thirty-six? I'm not sure what's going on with you lot. You're making money. You've achieved something. Don't you think you guys should stop clinging to one another and get serious about adulthood?" But how was one to be an adult? Was couplehood truly the only appropriate option? — Hanya Yanagihara

On conflicts, generally speaking, the world is a hell of a lot better to live in today than it was thirty years ago, despite what's going on in Syria. There are definitely hopeful signs that the world is moving, decade by decade, in the right direction. — Richard Branson

So what should I be doing?" "I don't know. Something. Working. Seeing people. Running a scout troop, or running a club even. Something more than waiting for life to change and keeping your options open. You'd keep your options open for the rest of your life, if you could. You'll be lying on your deathbed, dying of some smoking-related disease, and you'll be thinking, 'Well, at least I've kept my options open. At least I never ended up doing something I couldn't back out of.' And all the time you're keeping your options open, you're closing them off. You're thirty-six and you don't have children. So when are you going to have them? When you're forty? Fifty? Say you're forty, and say your kid doesn't want kids until he's thirty-six. That means you'd have to live much longer than your allotted three-score years and ten just to catch so much as a glimpse of your grandchild. See how you're denying yourself things? — Nick Hornby

eyeing his blue overalls. A game of darts which was going on at the other end of the room interrupted itself for perhaps as much as thirty seconds. The old man whom he had followed was standing at the bar, having some kind of altercation with the barman, a large, stout, hook-nosed young man with enormous forearms. A knot of others, standing round with glasses in their hands, were watching the scene. 'I arst you civil — George Orwell

And that was it. There was nothing we could do. We just had to stand there, watching as they dropped bombs on thirty years of work, killed everyone too young or too old to fight back, and then massacred the rest of our team on the field." He clenches his hand around mine. "I come back here every day," he says. "Hoping someone will show up. Hoping to find something to take back." He stops then, voice tight with emotion. "And here you are. This shit doesn't even seem real."
I squeeze his fingers - gently, this time - and huddle closer to him. "We're going to be okay, Kenji. I promise. We'll stick together. We'll get through this. — Tahereh Mafi

My phone buzzed in the center console again.
"What's happening with this thing?" Dad grabbed it.
"Dad, really?" I didn't want him to see the texts between Dash and me. Awkward.
"He says he knew it."
The traffic opened up, and I went right on Sunset. "Please don't scroll."
"Knew what?"
"I have no idea, and I'm driving. So forget it for now."
"I'll ask him." - Knew what? - "Dad, really?" I snapped the phone away.
Ding ding.
I couldn't look. I was going thirty on Sunset and the lights were synchronized for a westward trip, so there would be no stopping at a red.
"Let me see," Dad said, hand out.
All I needed was for my father to see something about Dash's tongue on my pussy or the way I sounded when I came. So I pulled over. — C.D. Reiss

Good gravy on biscuits, girlfriend, you are in the middle of more messes than a platter of scrambled eggs. What's going on? Are the planets aligned funny? Or is that unaligned? Shoot, I have no idea. But I need to know what's going on. You and I will be going out for coffee in about thirty seconds. — Paige Shelton

I said I thought she had a very fine voice.
She nodded. 'I know. I'm going to be a professional singer.'
'Really? Opera?'
'Heavens, no. I'm going to sing jazz on the radio and make heaps of money. Then, when I'm thirty, I shall retire and live on a ranch in Ohio. — J.D. Salinger

The decision to write full-time meant I couldn't afford to buy a house. A friend kindly offered me the use of his apartment in a thirty-six-story building full of newlywed couples in the southern area of Jakarta. I didn't like my working space at first, but the scenery and everything going on outside have worked their magic on me. — Andrea Hirata

She was fifteen years old, going on thirty-five, Doc, and she told me she was eighteen, she was very willing, I practically had to take to sewing my pants shut. Between you and me, uh, she might have been fifteen, but when you get that little red beaver right up there in front of you, I don't think it's crazy at all and I don't think you do either. No man alive could resist that, and that's why I got into jail to begin with. And now they're telling me I'm crazy over here because I don't sit there like a goddamn vegetable. Don't make a bit of sense to me. If that's what being crazy is, then I'm senseless, out of it, gone-down-the-road, wacko. But no more, no less, that's it. — Ken Kesey

Over the long term, it's hard for a stock to earn a much better return that the business which underlies it earns. If the business earns six percent on capital over forty years and you hold it for that forty years, you're not going to make much different than a six percent return - even if you originally buy it at a huge discount. Conversely, if a business earns eighteen percent on capital over twenty or thirty years, even if you pay an expensive looking price, you'll end up with one hell of a result. — Charlie Munger

It was unnerving, the way she could go from cool efficiency to sarcastic to sweet within the space of thirty seconds. I found it very manipulative and controlling. It put the other person constantly on-guard. And it was extremely intimidating because you never knew when she was going to snap. I made a mental note to refine these skills within myself. — Augusten Burroughs

A gigantic golden statue of Zeus had originally stood at the entrance, always looking down on the Titans in their new homes, but Hades had it moved and melted down well before I was born. Ensuring your prisoners were behaving was one thing, but antagonizing them every single day with a gleaming thirty-foot statue of the person who had defeated them was only going to end in rebellion and more death. — Steve McHugh

The plane had lost power in all three engines, dropped from thirty-four thousand feet to twelve thousand feet. Something like four miles. When the steep glide began, people rose, fell, collided, swam in their seats. Then the serious screaming and moaning began. Almost immediately a voice from the flight deck was heard on the intercom: "We're falling out of the sky! We're going down! We're a silver gleaming death machine!" This outburst struck the passengers as an all but total breakdown of authority, competence and command presence and it brought on a round of fresh and desperate wailing. — Don DeLillo

Except when Yankees are around," Moss said. "Then they'll swear up and down that they didn't know what was going on. Some prick will probably write a book that shows how they didn't really massacre their Negroes after all." "Oh, yeah? Then where'd the smokes go?" Goodman asked. "I mean, they were there before the war, and then they weren't. So what happened?" "Well, we killed a bunch of 'em when we bombed Confederate cities." Moss was a well-trained attorney; he could spin out an argument whether he believed in it or not. "Some died in the rebellion. Some went up to the USA. Some died of hunger and disease - there was a war on, you know. But a massacre? Nah. Never happened." Barry Goodman's mouth twisted. "That's disgusting. That'd gag a maggot, damned if it wouldn't." "Bet your ass," Moss said. "You think it won't happen, though? Give it twenty years - thirty at the outside." "Disgusting, — Harry Turtledove

He keeps going, going, going on; his people groan and fall one after the other, but he keeps on going, going and in the end, perishes himself, but still remains the despot and tsar of the desert because the cross over his grave is visible to caravans thirty-forty miles away and reigns over the wasteland. — Anton Chekhov

I was fuzzy on the details, but I knew the basic outline. I knew how I wanted to be, it was simply a question of being who I wanted to be.
I thought I had had it all figured out before. I'd had the plan perfectly clear in my head. I wasn't going to cross into thirty without the triple crown in hand: serious boyfriend, career, and great friends..
It was time to accept that maybe, just maybe, I didn't have to have it all figured out by the time I turned thirty. Maybe I could just work on me, and see what else fell into place.
I was pretty sure that was otherwise known as living. — Megan Crane

She's not going to eat. "Don't rain on my parade, Anastasia." "I'll eat later, when my stomach's woken up. About seven thirty, okay?" "Okay." I can't force her. She looks defiant and stubborn. "I want to roll my eyes at you," she says. Oh, Ana, bring it on. "By all means, do, and you will make my day. — E.L. James

One day a friend came by the job site and asked them separately what they were doing. The first said, "Aw, we're just laying brick. We've been doing this for thirty years. It's so boring. One brick on top of the other." Then the friend asked the second bricklayer. He just lit up. "Why, we're building a magnificent skyscraper," he said. "This structure is going to stand tall for generations to come. I'm just so excited that I could be a part of it." Each bricklayer's happiness or lack of it was based on their perspective. You can be laying a brick or you can be building a beautiful skyscraper. The choice is up to you. You can go to work each day and just punch in on the clock and dread being there and do as little as possible. Or you can show up with enthusiasm and give it your best, knowing that you're making the world a better place. — Joel Osteen

What?" The dread in her tone told Rob she knew what. "How much longer?"
"Thirty seconds."
She laughed with a panicked urgency. "I just tried to nod. I can't feel my body, but I keep reaching for it, you know?"
Rob nodded, feeling guilty he was able to.
"How about this? I'll just tell you when I'm nodding, or shaking my head, or punching you."
"Oh, no," Rob laughed, "are you planning on punching me often?"
"We'll see."
Rob couldn't help glancing at the timer, though he knew it would only make Winter more aware of what was about to happen. Seven seconds.
"I keep expecting this to get easier, taht it will start to feel as if I'm going to sleep. But it doesn't. Maybe it's not possible to get used to dying."
Rob reached out to comfort her, then remembered it was forbidden and drew back. If not for the surveillance, Rob would have reached under the silver cover and taken her hand, cold and stiff as it would have been. — Will McIntosh

They had Rembrandt on the calendar that year, a rather smeary self-portrait due to imperfectly registered color plate. It showed him holding a smeared palette with a dirty thumb and wearing a tam-o'-shanter which wasn't any too clean either. His other hand held a brush poised in the air, as if he might be going to do a little work after a while, if somebody made a down payment. His face was aging, saggy, full of the disgust of life and the thickening effects of liquor. But it had a hard cheerfulness that I liked, and the eyes were as bright as drops of dew.
I was looking at him across my office desk at about four-thirty when the phone rang and I heard a cool, supercilious voice that sounded as if it thought it was pretty good. It said drawlingly, after I had answered:
You are Philip Marlowe, a private detective? — Raymond Chandler

I feel like I'm in the middle of the ocean. Like I could swim in any direction but I can't see land on any side so I don't know which way to go. I feel like I just have to keep hooking up and see what sticks. I didn't know I'd be crying in the bathroom at work every day. The twentysomething years are a whole new way of thinking about time. There's this big chunk of time and a whole bunch of stuff needs to happen somehow. My sister is thirty-five and single. I'm terrified that's going to happen to me. I can't wait to be liberated from my twenties. I'd better not still be doing this at thirty. Last night I prayed for just one thing in my life to be certain. — Meg Jay

To me, one of the saddest things in all the life of Jesus Christ was the fact that just before His crucifixion, His disciples should have been striving to see who should be the greatest, that night He instituted the Supper, and they ate the Passover together. It was His last night on earth, and they never saw Him so sorrowful before. He knew Judas was going to sell Him for thirty pieces of silver. He knew that Peter would deny Him. And yet, in addition to this, when going into the very shadow of the cross, there arose this strife as to who should be the greatest. He — D.L. Moody

You see that honky McNamara on television? He says, "Yes, we are going to draft thirty percent of the Negroes in the Army. This is where they can have equal opportunity. Yeah. Yes ... it's true that they are only ten percent of the population, but this is a better chance for them." When that honky talk about drafting thirty percent black people, he's talking about black urban removal - nothing else. — Stokely Carmichael

And if anger and fear could persist - then also, of course, stronger emotions could as well, such as love. Was that what drew some people back to reincarnate within their own families? Was that what caused some children to remember their past connections? And if so, then perhaps this phenomenon, these children's memories he had studied so carefully, was not against the laws of nature, after all. Perhaps it was the foundational law of nature that they were proving, what he'd been documenting and analyzing for over thirty years without knowing it: the force of love. He shook his head. His brain was going soft, maybe. Or maybe not. He'd kept so many of these questions at bay all these years, and now they whirled around him, touching him with something like awe, on their way to someplace else. — Sharon Guskin

Not one word about proposals, no matter how much she pushes," I told my friends. "No matter what she says or how loud she cries, don't try to throw that up as a distraction."
Gabriel's lips twitched. "I don't think it's going to be that bad. It's one woman against five supernatural creatures ... And Zeb."
"You laugh because you haven't heard my mother's thirty-minute verbal dissertation on appropriate seasonal flower choices. We're better off letting her yell at us for being dirty, premarital fornicators. — Molly Harper

I want to make rockets 100 times, if not 1,000 times better. The ultimate objective is to make humanity a multiplanet species. Thirty years from now, there'll be a base on the moon and on Mars, and people will be going back and forth on SpaceX rockets. — Elon Musk

By the age of twenty, you know you're not going to be a rock star. By twenty-five, you know you're not going to be a dentist or any kind of professional. And by thirty, darkness starts moving in- you wonder if you're ever going to be fulfilled, let alone wealthy and successful. By thirty-five, you know, basically, what you're going to be doing for the rest of your life, and you become resigned to your fate ...
... I mean, why do people live so long? What could be the difference between death at fifty-five and death at sixty-five or seventy-five or eighty-five? Those extra years ... what benefit could they possibly have? Why do we go on living even though nothing new happens, nothing new is learned, and nothing new is transmitted? At fifty-five, your story's pretty much over. — Douglas Coupland

The most prominent word on the page was Bathyscaphe. "Get it?" the guy said. "A submarine," Chang said. "Capable of going all the way to the ocean bed." "Originally I called it Nemo. After the guy in Twenty Thousand Leagues Under The Sea. He commands a submarine named Nautilus. I liked him because nemo is Latin for nobody. Which seemed appropriate. But then they made a movie about a fish. Which ruined it." He typed another command, and a search box came up. He said, "OK, start your engines. Thirty-two seconds is the wager. — Lee Child

Talkativeness is afraid of the silence which reveals its emptiness, Kierkegaard once said. Now you know why sharing, commenting, clicking, and participating are pushed so strongly by blogs and entertainment sites. They don't want silence. No wonder blogs auto refresh with new material every thirty seconds. Of course they want to send updates to your mobile phone and include you on e-mail alerts. If the users stops for even a second, they may see what is really going on. And then the business model would fall apart. — Ryan Holiday

In fact, when I finally realized I was really going to write, when I was about thirty-four, I was working on my Ph.D. in Mathematics. I was just about to earn my Master's along the way, but I knew something was wrong because I found myself crying all the time. — Bonnie Jo Campbell

On the eighteenth of December 1972, when we thought we were getting another of the hundreds of little tactical air raids, we heard the bombs going in out there in the railroad yards and this went on for about thirty minutes. — James Stockdale

(On a personal note, even though I have a professional interest in hazard and risk, I never watch the local television news and haven't for years. Try this and you'll likely find better things to do before going to sleep than looking at thirty minutes of disturbing images presented with artificial urgency and the usually false implication that it's critical for you to see it.) — Gavin De Becker

I wrote every day throughout my twenties. For a while, I had a boyfriend who was a musician, and he practiced every day. He played scales; I wrote small fictional scenes. It was the same idea - to keep your hand in your craft, to stay close to it. On bad days, when I felt no inspiration at all, I would set the kitchen timer for thirty minutes and make myself sit there and scribble something, anything. I had read an interview with John Updike where he said that some of the best novels you've ever read were written in an hour a day; I figured I could always carve out at least thirty minutes somewhere to dedicate myself to my work, no matter what else was going on or how badly I believed the work was going. — Elizabeth Gilbert

There was a knock on the bedroom door. "Matt?"
Fuck. "Nope.
Silence. "Would you be the owner of the leather pants?"
"Yep."
She paused briefly. "I'm going to pass these through the door. You have exactly thirty seconds to pull them on, make yourself presentable and get your ass out here."
"Do I have any other options?"
"Only if Matt's got a window."
He looked at the window longingly. The thirty-six-story drop with no fire escape might be less painful, but he decided there was no avoiding it. "Understood. — Christine Price

There's ten of us, we've been best friends for thirty years. Ten guys. And their wives, and their kids, are all family now. I'm not big on keeping up on the phone, none of us are. Some guys I won't talk to for two months and then you pick up the phone and hear, "So, anyway." There's no guilt or where have you been? or what's been going on? or why haven't we talked? There's an ease to it. — George Clooney

Mackay told us that the Children's Crusade started in 1213, when two monks got the idea of raising armies of children in Germany and France, and selling them in North Africa as slaves. Thirty thousand children volunteered, thinking they were going to Palestine. They were no doubt idle and deserted children who generally swarm in great cities, nurtured on vice and daring, said Mackay, and ready for anything. — Kurt Vonnegut

He moved into the moonlight. That was no accident. He wanted me to see his eyes burning with fever, his skin flushed, hair sweat soaked. He wanted me to say, "Oh, you're Changing," leap out of bed, and insist on going outside with him, help him through it, a I had the last two times.
I looked at him and I lay back down.
He stepped froward. "Chloe.."
"What?"
"It's ... It's starting again."
"I see that."
I sat up, swung my legs out of bed, and stood. He breathed a sigh of relief. I walked to the window.
"Head down that path about thirty feet, and you'll find a clearing to the left. That should be a good place."
A spark of panic ignited in his eyes. After how he'd treated me today, I should have said "good." But i didn't. Couldn't. It took everything I had to just crawl back into bed. — Kelley Armstrong

His way of coping with the days was to think of activities as units of time, each unit consisting of about thirty minutes. Whole hours, he found, were more intimidating, and most things one could do in a day took half an hour. Reading the paper, having a bath, tidying the flat, watching Home and Away and Countdown, doing a quick crossword on the toilet, eating breakfast and lunch, going to the local shops ... That was nine units of a twenty-unit day (the evenings didn't count) filled by just the basic necessities. In fact, he had reached a stage where he wondered how his friends could juggle life and a job. Life took up so much time, so how could one work and, say, take a bath on the same day? He suspected that one or two people he knew were making some pretty unsavoury short cuts. — Nick Hornby

My father took one hundred and thirty-two minutes to die.
I counted.
It happened on the Jellicoe Road. The prettiest road I'd ever seen, where trees made breezy canopies like a tunnel to Shangri-La. We were going to the ocean, hundreds of miles away, because I wanted to see the ocean and my father said that it was about time the four of us made that journey. I remember asking, 'What's the difference between a trip and a journey?' and my father said, 'Narnie, my love, when we get there, you'll understand,' and that was the last thing he ever said. — Melina Marchetta

How old are you? 'I'm four and a half!' You're never thirty-six and a half. You're four and a half, going on five! That's the key. — George Carlin

If basketball was going to enable Bradley to make friends, to prove that a banker's son is as good as the next fellow, to prove that he could do without being the greatest-end-ever at Missouri, to prove that he was not chicken, and to live up to his mother's championship standards, and if he was going to have some moments left over to savor his delight in the game, he obviously needed considerable practice, so he borrowed keys to the gym and set a schedule for himself that he adhereded to for four full years - in the school year, three and a half hours every day after school, nine to five on Saturday, one-thirty to five on Sunday, and, in the summer, about three hours a day. — John McPhee

There are a few things in life that occur, that you don't ask for, that are just dealt to you.
These things can define you or you can define yourself through them.
I elect to define myself through overcoming what has been dealt to me in my life.
It took thirty-one years and two generations of tweaking to get my first perfect ending.
Now I am going to work on my next one. — JohnA Passaro

All around him were what other people called mirrors, which he called leaks. The entire wall which separated the lobby from the cocktail lounge was a leak ten feet high and thirty-feet long. There was another leak on the cigarette machine and yet another on the candy machine. And when Trout looked through them to see what was going on in the other universe, he saw a red-eyed, filthy old creature who was barefoot, who had his pants rolled up to his knees. — Kurt Vonnegut Jr.

It's only a heartache. It isn't a tragedy. A tragedy would be losing the father of my children to cancer. This I wrestle with the hardest. There are thirty-one flavors of pain, like Baskin Robbins in hell. Am I allowed to feel pain at a breakup? When there is so much other shit going on in this world? Love is extremely serious. I don't think this is trivial. — Emma Forrest

It's super-important to have a strong social media presence, and Jane's always going, When interviewers ask you about your Twitter, say you love reaching out directly to your fans, and I'm like, I don't even know how to use Twitter or what the password is because you disabled my laptop's wireless and only let me go on the Internet to do homework research or email Nadine assignments, and she says, I'm doing you a big favor, it's for nobodies who want to pretend like they're famous and for self-promoting hacks without PR machines, and adults act like teenagers passing notes and everyone's IQ drops thirty points on it. — Teddy Wayne

"Okay, what'd I do?" he asked.
"Nothing. I'm just tired."
"Uh-uh. I suspected I was getting the cold shoulder earlier, but with everything going on, I wasn't sure. Now I'm sure. You're giving me the look."
"What look?"
"The Maya's-pissed-with-Corey look. Fifty percent disappointment, thirty percent disapproval, twenty percent exasperation. I've done something you're not happy about."
I hesitated, then blurted, "Rafe told me what you said about Daniel."
He frowned. "You're going to need to be a little more specific."
"In Salmon Creek, when Rafe and I started getting together. You told him to back off because Daniel ... " I glanced at the open door and lowered my voice. "Because Daniel likes me." — Kelley Armstrong

I don't think I want to have this sort of conversation with you, especially since you're going to be a virgin till you're thirty-five."
Anna grinned. "I won't tell you about Hans and Boris during spring break then."
"You hung out on my couch during spring break."
"So did Hans and Boris."
- Perfect For You — Kate Perry

Well, on that day I ceased cleansing my body. No more brushing my teeth, no more washing my hair, no baths, no soap, no water. Thirty days of debris build. I stopped shavin' and I was 18, had a little scraggly beard, really looked like a hippie ... Then two weeks before, I stopped eating any food with nutritional value ... Then a week before, I stopped going to the bathroom. I did it in my pants. poop, piss the whole shot. My pants got crusted up. — Ted Nugent

She pushed him onto the couch and straddled him ...
Min swallowed "the thing is, im going to spread. Hips, thighs-"
"Not till nine-thirty," Cal said trying not to picture her.
"-waist," Min said then stopped. "What? nine-thirty? Not till my forties, probably, i think i can fight it off that long, but then-"
"What?" Cal said.
"Im going to get fat," Min said, and he blinked. "Er. Im going to get fatter." she frowned at him. "what did you think i meant?"
"for future reference," he said starting to laugh. "if you're sitting half naked on my lap and you tell me you're going to spread-"
"No! I would never say that!" she said. — Jennifer Crusie

Class of 2009: you are going to have to figure out what it means to be a human being on Earth at a time when every living system is declining, and the rate of decline is accelerating. Kind of a mind-boggling situation ... but not one peer-reviewed paper published in the last thirty years can refute that statement. — Paul Hawken

I'm thirty-eight, going on forty. I'm not like Naoko. There's nobody waiting for me to get out, no family to take me back. I don't have any work to speak of, and almost no friends. And after seven years, I don't know what's going on out there. Oh, I'll read a paper in the library every once in a while, but I haven't set foot outside this property for seven years. I wouldn't know what to do if I left." "But maybe a new world would open up for you," I said. "It's worth a try, don't you think?" "Hmm, you may be right," she said, turning her cigarette lighter over and over in her hand. "But I've got my own set of problems. I — Haruki Murakami