He Doesn't Miss Me Quotes & Sayings

The simplest definition of prayer is communicating with God. That's it. Did you miss it? Let me say it again. Prayer is simply communicating with God. That one uncomplicated thought began to revolutionize my whole prayer life. What is communication? It's transferring a thought, feeling, emotion, or idea to another person. So prayer is giving God my thoughts, feelings, emotions, and ideas, by whatever means works. It doesn't have to be formal. It doesn't have to be long and dry. It's simply communicating. — Craig Groeschel

Why did you take this job?" I ask. "It doesn't make sense. You're so young - "
"It was an honor to be promoted," she says, but the words have a hollow ring. I can see her drawing back into herself, into her role.
"Who did you lose?" I ask.
Carmen flashes a smile that is at once dazzling and sad. "I'm a Librarian, Miss Bishop. I've lost everyone. — Victoria Schwab

We look high and low for God, but somehow He's not there. So we blame Him and tell ourselves that He must have forgotten us. Or else we decide that He left us long ago, if He was ever around."
"How strange," the little fish said, "to miss what is everywhere."
"Very strange," the old whale agreed. "Doesn't it remind you of fish who say they're thirsty? — Michael Jackson

But before you dismiss it, let me tell you about what makes this hammer unique. It's called Mjollnir, the lightning-maker. First of all, it's unbreakable - doesn't matter how hard you hit something with it, the hammer will always be undamaged." Thor looked interested. He had already broken a great many weapons over the years, normally by hitting things with them. "If you throw the hammer, it will never miss what you throw it at." Thor looked even more interested. He had lost a number of otherwise excellent weapons by throwing them at things that irritated him and missing, and he had watched too many weapons he had thrown disappear into the distance, never to be seen again. "No — Neil Gaiman

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 seek beauty, Miss Prim. Seek it in silence, in tranquillity; seek it in the middle of the night and at dawn. Pause to close doors while you seek it, and don't be surprised if it doesn't reside in museums or in palaces. Don't be surprised if, in the end, you find beauty to be not in Something but Someone. — Natalia Sanmartin Fenollera

Among all the complaints you hear these days about the crimes of the media, it seems to me the critics miss the big one. It is that especially TV, but also we of the print press, tend to reduce mess and complexity and ambiguity to a simple story line that doesn't reflect reality so much as it distorts it ... What bothers me about the journalistic tendency to reduce unmanageable reality to self-contained, movielike little dramas is not just that we falsify when we do this. It is also that we really miss the good story. — Meg Greenfield

The gravel road widened into a large turnaround where three similar looking and designed brothels sat waiting for customers. They were called Sheila's Front Porch, Tawny's High Five Ranch and Miss Delilah's House of Holies.
"Nice," Rachel said as we surveyed the scene. "why are these places always named after women
as if women actually own them?"
"You got me. I guess Mister Dave's House of Holies wouldn't go over so well with the guys."
Rachel smiled.
"You're right. I guess it's a shrewd move. Name a place of female degradation and slavery after a female and it doesn't sound so bad, does it? It's packaging. — Michael Connelly

I haven't written poetry in a long time but I read it and I miss it. It is so hard to write. So hard to finish, so hard to find the exact word to make it shine. In honor of my youth I will write a poem to finish this essay. It is spring in the Ozark Mountains. The yellow flowers are blooming and the birds wake me at dawn and last night five planets lined up by the moon in the western sky. If that doesn't inspire me to poetry what will? — Ellen Gilchrist

if i

or anybody don't
know where it her his

my next meal's coming from
i say to hell with that
that doesn't matter (and if

he she it or everybody gets a
bellyful without
lifting my finger i say to hell
with that i

say that doesn't matter) but
if somebody
or you are beautiful or
deep or generous what
i say is

whistle that
sing that yell that spell
that out big (bigger than cosmic
rays w ar earthquakes famine or the ex

prince of whoses diving into
a whatses to rescue miss nobody's
probably handbag) because i say that's not

swell (get me) babe not (understand me) lousy
kid that's something else my sweet (i feel that's

true) — E. E. Cummings

Slow down, and enjoy that stuff if it's possible. Kathy doesn't care what time I leave, only what time I clock out, and she knows sometimes I sleep here when I'm locked out, or have friends over. Everything's cool as long as I clock out on time."
She swallowed that big bite she'd rammed in, and said, "Okay. Jeez, I'm so hungry, this stuff is good."
Ketchup for your fries, miss? I can recommend it - it's my main source of vitamin C."
She smiled. "Sure. What does Kathy do if you clock out late?"
Well, a couple times I've fallen asleep and done it, and gotten off with a warning. Eventually, though, if I made a habit of it, I'd disappear in the middle of the night, and never be seen again, and the only clues the police would have would be a few orange hairs and some enormous shoe prints. But for a few weeks afterward, all over the country, the Quarter Pounders would taste just a little bit more like Lightsburg, Ohio. — John Barnes

What happens when she's not my memory anymore? What happens when she's not around to tell me about his belt leaving scars across my two-year-old brother's face or when he whacked her so hard that she lost her hearing for a week? Who'll be my memory?"
Santangelo doesn't miss a beat. "I will. Ring me."
"Same," Raffy says.
I look at him. I can't even speak because if I do I know I'll cry but I smile and he knows what I'm thinking. — Melina Marchetta

The only thing that I miss lately in all music is somebody that will put out a melody that you can whistle. It doesn't seem like there's anything happening like that. — Merle Haggard

Some fighter's waist a lot of their energy. Wait for your opportunity and when it comes, avail yourself of it. The idea of boring in and throwing punches helter skelter without reason doesn't amount to a row of pins. Every time you miss a swing it is worse than being hit. — Jack Johnson

She is just Cat. She curls up on my chest whenever I sit down, and goes to sleep. I hope she doesn't miss me. I'm going to miss her. — Derek Landy

She said, "Look me right in the eye, and tell me you don't love me, and I'll go."
He stared at her. "Miss, I do not love you."
"Don't give me that rot! I'm coming with you, and that's final!"
"Daphne, you just said that if I said ... "
"That doesn't count! I said look me right in the eye! You were staring at my nose! — John C. Wright

The heart of democracy is violence, Miss Tagwynn," Esterbrook said. "In order to decide what to do, we take a count of everyone for and against it, and then do whatever the larger side wishes to do. We're having a symbolic battle, its outcome decided by simple numbers. It saves us time and no end of trouble counting actual bodies - but don't mistake it for anything but ritualized violence. And every few years, if the person we elected doesn't do the job we wanted, we vote him out of office - we symbolically behead him and replace him with someone else. Again, without the actual pain and bloodshed, but acting out the ritual of violence nonetheless. It's actually a very practical way of getting things done. — Jim Butcher

Not only is this workaholism unnecessary, it's stupid. Working more doesn't mean you care more or get more done. It just means you work more. Workaholics wind up creating more problems than they solve. First off, working like that just isn't sustainable over time. When the burnout crash comes - and it will - it'll hit that much harder. Workaholics miss the point, too. They try to fix problems by throwing sheer hours at them. They try to make up for intellectual laziness with brute force. This results in inelegant solutions. — Jason Fried

Still have your passport?"
I feel my coat once more. "Got it."
"Good." And then his hand is inside my pocket.My heart spazzes,but he doesn't notice.He pulls out my passport and flicks it open.
WAIT.WHY DOES HE HAVE MY PASSPORT?
His eyebrows shoot up.I try to snatch it back,but he holds it out of my reach. "Why are your eyes crossed?" He laughs. "Have you had some kind of ocular surgery I don't know about?"
"Give it back?" Another grab and miss, and I change tactics and lunge for his coat instead. I snag his passport.
"NO!"
I open it up,and it's ... baby St. Clair. "Dude.How old is this picture?"
He slings my passport at me and snatches his back. "I was in middle school. — Stephanie Perkins

That doesn't sound invisible to me." "I'm saying it wrong, then." Lydia searched for a better way to explain. "She was always holding herself back. She was cocaptain, not captain. She could've dated the quarterback, but she dated his brother instead. She could've been top in her class, but she'd purposefully turn in a paper late or miss an assignment so she'd fall closer to the middle. She would know about Mauna Kea, but she would say Everest because winning would bring too much attention. — Karin Slaughter

A child who does not play is not a child, but the man who doesn't play has lost forever the child who lived in him and who he will miss terribly. — Pablo Neruda

Doesn't miss many meals, does he?" Zeus muttered. "Tyson, for your bravery in the war, and for leading the Cyclopes, you are appointed a general I. The armies of Olympus. You shall henceforth lead you breathren into war whenever required by the gods. And you shall have a new ... um ... what kind of weapon would you like? A sword? An axe?"
"Stick!" Tyson said, showing his broken club.
"Very well," Zeus said. "We will grant you a new, er, stick. The best stick that may be found."
"Hooray! — Rick Riordan

WAKE
Dealing with an alcoholic single mother and endless hours of working at Heather Nursing Home to raise money for college, high-school senior Janie Hannagan doesn't need more problems. But inexplicably, since she was eight years old, she has been pulled in to people's dreams, witnessing their recurring fears, fantasies and secrets. Through Miss Stubin at Heather Home, Janie discovers that she is a dream catcher with the ability to help others resolve their haunting dreams. After taking an interest in former bad boy Cabel, she must distinguish between the monster she sees in his nightmares and her romantic feelings for him. And when she learns more about Cabel's covert identity, Janie just may be able to use her special dream powers to help solve crimes in a suspense-building ending with potential for a sequel. McMann lures teens in by piquing their interest in the mysteries of the unknown, and keeps them with quick-paced, gripping narration and supportive characters. — Lisa McMann

President Bush fell off his mountain bike down on his ranch in Texas. A couple weeks ago, John Kerry fell off his bicycle. See, doesn't this make you miss President Clinton? That guy, he could ride anything without falling off. — Jay Leno

I miss you every second we're apart. It doesn't matter where i am. — Kahlen Aymes

He imagined the future I could have before I even wanted it for myself, and he was the one to push me toward it. That's faith. Growing up, I thought faith was about believing Jesus died for us, and that if I held on to that, I'd get to meet him when I died too. But faith doesn't mean that to me anymore. Now it means someone seeing something in you that you don't, and not giving up until you see it too. I want that. I miss that. — Jessica Knoll

The difficulty will be to keep her from learning too fast and too much. She is always sitting with her little nose burrowing into books. She doesn't read them, Miss Minchin; she gobbles them up as if she were a little wolf instead of a little girl. She is always starving for new books to gobble, and she wants grown-up books
great, big, fat ones
French and German as well as English
history and biography and poets, and all sorts of things. Drag her away from her books when she reads too much. — Frances Hodgson Burnett

I hate feeling so weak and vulnerable.
I hate that I miss him.
I hate that I am alone, and I always was.
I hate that I made him into a superhero, he was not.
I hate that he doesn't want to kiss me.
I hate that every time I cry over one boy it's like crying over all of them again. — Bill Shapiro

Do you think I should be paying my addresses to Mrs. Martin, my dear Miss Fitzhugh?" he whispered. "Martin doesn't
look the sort to have enough stamina to service two women.
And goodness knows you could probably exhaust Casanova himself."
Again this insinuation that she must be a sufferer of nymphomania. Behind her fan, she put her lips very close to his ear. "You've no idea, my Lord Hastings, the heated yearnings
that singe me at night, when I cannot have a man. My skin burns to be touched, my lips kissed, and my entire body passionately fondled."
Hastings was mute, for once. He stared at her with something halfway between amusement and arousal.
She snapped shut her fan and rapped his fingers as hard as she could, watching with great satisfaction as he choked back a
yelp of pain.
"By anyone but you," she said, and turned on her heels. — Sherry Thomas

It's like, it doesn't honor God to pretend like everything is OK. That's the beauty of Jesus that so many people miss. The beauty is that he died on the cross for our sins, but also that he existed the way we exist. He understands what it's like to lose a friend. He's not unfamiliar with those emotions. He's not unfamiliar with the difficulty of human life. To me that's what makes Jesus as God beautiful. He totally understands. He went out of his way to prove to us that he understands our situation. So when he has something to say, it's not coming from this high and lofty standpoint. It's coming from this person who understands intricately the perils of human existence. — John Mark McMillan

And Jesus just acts like he's really annoyed with the guy and starts shooting back commandments. But right before he tells the man he needs to go and sell all his belongings to follow him, there's this really strange sentence. It's like it doesn't belong there. It's easy to miss. 'Jesus saw him and loved him.' The line was staring back at me through my screen. He saw him. And he loved him. Instantly. Like it was that easy. Like the man didn't need to do A, B, C, and D to just be loved. He was loved. He was seen. He was known. Already. He just had to show up and annoy Jesus. Showing up was all it took. And then being willing to let it all go. — Hannah Brencher

Mr Bott sits down and gestures gracefully to the board. "As you are clearly both fascinated by this text, would you like to explain the significance of Laertes in Hamlet?" He looks at Alexa. "Please go first, Miss Roberts."
"Well ... " Alexa says hesitantly. "He's Ophelia's brother, right?"
"I didn't ask for his family tree, Alexa. I want to know his literary significance as a fictional character."
Alexa looks uncomfortable. "Well then, his literary significance is in being Ophelia's brother, isn't it? So she has someone to hang out with."
"How very kind of Shakespeare to give fictional Ophelia a fictional playmate so that she doesn't get fictionally bored. Your analytical skills astound me, Alexa. Perhaps I should send you to Set Seven with Mrs White and you can spend the rest of the lesson studying Thomas the Tank Engine. I believe he has lots of buddies too. — Holly Smale

I shared my office on 57th Street with Dr Jacob Ecstein, young (thirty-three), dynamic (two books published), intelligent (he and I usually agreed), personable (everyone liked him), unattractive (no one loved him), anal (he plays the stock market compulsively), oral (he smokes heavily), non-genital (doesn't seem to notice women), and Jewish (he knows two Yiddish slang words). Our mutual secretary was a Miss Reingold. Mary Jane Reingold, old (thirty-six), undynamic (she worked for us), unintelligent (she prefers Ecstein to me), personable (everyone felt sorry for her), unattractive (tall, skinny, glasses, no one loved her), anal (obsessively neat), oral (always eating), genital (trying hard), and non-Jewish (finds use of two Yiddish slang words very intellectual). Miss Reingold greeted me efficiently. — Luke Rhinehart

Well, I guess it's all in God's hands anyway. He has a way of making things turn out," Mattie asserted.
"Yes, He does. Doesn't He? Thank you for reminding me of that, Mattie." She gave her friend a hug. "Sometimes it's hard not to second guess the choices I've made."
"I know what you mean. When life brings changes, I think we tend to do that more." Mattie wiped away a tear. "I miss the old life sometimes, but I know this is God's will for me. And God's will is always best, whether we realize it at the time or not. — J.E.B. Spredemann

You have something else of mine, Miss Wakefield," he amended. "I believe you meant to borrow it and return it directly, but you never did return . . . my heart. It's been in your possession since our first meeting."

She drew in a staggered breath, daring to hope.
"Though without a heart, one might wonder how I came to be here, standing before you right now," he went on, making her heard spin again. "Do you wonder, Miss Wakefield?"

When she nodded, he grinned and placed her hand over his chest.
"There is a heart in here, but it is not mine. You see, I believe you made a dire mistake our first meeting. When you meant to return mine, instead you gave me yours. Doesn't it beat strangely beneath my breast? — Vivienne Lorret

He doesn't need to act normal," said Ty sharply.
"He bumped into a pay phone and said, 'Excuse me, miss,' on our way in," said Julian. — Cassandra Clare

Sometimes you miss friends, and it's hard for them, as well, when you're just gone for a long time. I can't just go and see them any time I want because when I'm free, they may not be free, but I definitely wouldn't change it, ever. But, when you find really great friends, that doesn't matter, and I'm lucky to have some people who really, really look after me and look out for me. I definitely wouldn't ever change it. — Maisie Williams

It was then Jessica realized he wasn't using his left hand at all, and that he held the arm oddly, as though something were wrong with it. There shouldn't be except for a minor bullet wound. She'd aimed carefully, and she was an excellent markswoman. Not to mention he was a very large target.
He looked her way then, and caught her staring. Admiring your handiwork, are you? I daresay you'd like a better look. Regrettably, there's nothing to see. There's nothing wrong with it, according to the quacks. Except that it doesn't work. Still, I count myself fortunate, Miss Trent, that you didn't aim a ways lower. I'm merely disarmed, not dismanned. But I have no doubt that Herriard here will see to the emasculation. — Loretta Chase

But he hadn't appeared that night. Not the next morning, either. By the time she finally crossed paths with him the following afternoon, his mumbled "Merry Christmas" was the extent of their exchange.
It seemed they were back to silence.
I don't want you.
She tried to ignore the words echoing in her memory. They weren't true, she told herself. She was an expert at deceit; she knew a lie when she heard one.
Still. What else to believe, when he avoided her thus?
Although he rarely spoke to her over the next two days, Sophia frequently overheard him speaking of her. Even these remarks were the tersest of commands: "Fetch Miss Turner more water," or "See that her canopy doesn't go slack." She felt herself being tended, not unlike a goat. Fed, watered, sheltered. Perhaps she shouldn't complain. Food, water, and shelter were all welcome things.
But Sophia was not livestock, and she had other, more profound needs. Needs he seemed intent on neglecting, the infuriating man. — Tessa Dare

You should be more careful. Miss Lynn really doesn't like you."
I sighed, pulling out my gym clothes. What school chooses yellow and brown for their colors? Gross. Just,gross. "The feeling is mutual. — Kiersten White

DEAR MISS MANNERS:
I a tired of being treated like a child. My father says it's because I am a child
I am twelve-and-a-half years old
but it still isn't fair. If I go into a store to buy something, nobody pays any attention to me, or if they do, it's to say, "Leave that alone," "Don't touch that," although I haven't done anything. My money is as good as anybody's, but because I am younger, they feel they can be mean to me. It happens to me at home, too. My mother's friend who comes over after dinner sometimes, who doesn't have any children of her own and doesn't know what's what, likes to say to me, "Shouldn't you be in bed by now,dear?" when she doesn't even know what my bedtime is supposed to be. Is there any way I can make these people stop?
GENTLE READER:
Growing up is the best revenge. — Judith Martin

Would you like me to write Mrs. Ames about inviting you to Yaddo? Get Miss Moore to write too. You can't invite yourself, though, of course, almost all the invitations are planned. It would be marvelous to have you there. I know the solitude that gets too much. It doesn't drug me, but I get fantastic and uncivilized.
At last my divorce [from Jean Stafford] is over. It's funny at my age to have one's life so much in and on one's hands. All the rawness of learning, what I used to think should be done with by twenty-five. Sometimes nothing is so solid to me as writing - I suppose that's what vocation means - at times a torment, a bad conscience, but all in all, purpose and direction, so I'm thankful, and call it good, as Eliot would say. — Robert Lowell

People talk about nightfall, or night falling, or dusk falling, and it's never seemed right to me. Perhaps they once meant befalling. As in night befalls. As in night happens. Perhaps they, whoever they were, thought of a falling sun. That might be it, except that that ought to give us dayfall. Day fell on Rupert the Bear. And we know, if we've ever read a book, that day doesn't fall or rise. It breaks. In books, day breaks, and night falls.
In life, night rises from the ground. The day hangs on for as long as it can, bright and eager, absolutely and positively the last guest to leave the party, while the ground darkens, oozing night around your ankles, swallowing for ever that dropped contact lens, making you miss that low catch in the gully on the last ball of the last over. — Hugh Laurie

What sucks even more is getting hung up on the "what is he thinking and feeling?" shit. Does he miss me as much as I miss him? No. If he did, you'd know it by his actions. Is he seeing someone else? Maybe. Probably. Or at least he's planning on it. Again-it sucks, but if you get real about it you'll realize that knowing the answers to these questions still doesn't change the fact that your relationship didn't make the cut. — Greg Behrendt

But suppose one doesn't quite know which one wants to put first. Suppose," said Harriet, falling back on words which were not her own, "suppose one is cursed with both a heart and a brain?"
"You can usually tell," said Miss de Vine, "by seeing what kind of mistakes you make. I'm quite sure that one never makes fundamental mistakes about the thing one really wants to do. Fundamental mistakes arise out of lack of genuine interest. In my opinion, that is. — Dorothy L. Sayers

She is a very conscientious person," said Miss Lydgate, "but she has rather an unfortunate knack of making any subject sound dull. It's a great pity, because she is exceptionally sound and dependable. However, that doesn't greatly matter in her present appointment; she holds a librarianship somewhere - Miss — Dorothy L. Sayers

The thing is, that world doesn't exist. All growing up means is that your realize no one will come along to fix things. No one will come along to save you. — Elizabeth Scott

One: He's Michael. Two: he's scheduled for a meltdown. Three: Lia had been miss Rosy Sunshine since she got downstairs, and Lia doesn't do roses or sunshine unless she's screwing with someone or deeply upset.
-Dean Redding — Jennifer Lynn Barnes

Difficulty will be to keep her from learning too fast and too much. She is always sitting with her little nose burrowing into books. She doesn't read them, Miss Minchin; she gobbles them up as if she were a little wolf instead of a little girl. She is always starving for new books to gobble, and she wants grown-up books - great, big, fat ones - French and German as well as English - history and biography and poets, and all sorts of things. — Frances Hodgson Burnett

What about confusing clutter? Information overload? Doesn't data have to be "boiled down" and "simplified"? These common questions miss the point, for the quantity of detail is an issue completely separate from the difficulty of reading. Clutter and confusion are failures of design, not attributes of information. — Edward R. Tufte

We were on Barrow Street now.
"Who is the man with the scar?" I said.
She shot me a glance, and her face hardened. "You saw him?"
"How could I miss? He was the real center of attention. Didn't you go to the opening at all?"
"No" She said. "And just because you saw him doesn't mean he was there. — Nicholas Christopher

Very well," she said after a moment. "Here is how I see that loyalty and love are the same: You would lay down your life for someone for reasons of both love and loyalty. But loyalty implies dependence, doesn't it? For instance, dogs are loyal. It also implies indebtedness. For instance, servants are loyal."
"It also implies integrity. And honor. And - "
"Steadfastness," she completed, with only a hint of irony.
"So you see them as absolutes then, Miss Redmond? Love means to be willing to die for someone, and loyalty perhaps the same?"
"How can they be otherwise? — Julie Anne Long

You can see Musk's embrace of the car as lifestyle in Tesla's abandonment of model years. Tesla does not designate cars as being 2014s or 2015s, and it also doesn't have "all the 2014s in stock must go, go, go and make room for the new cars" sales. It produces the best Model S it can at the time, and that's what the customer receives. This means that Tesla does not develop and hold on to a bunch of new features over the course of the year and then unleash them in a new model all at once. It adds features one by one to the manufacturing line when they're ready. Some customers may be frustrated to miss out on a feature here and there. Tesla, however, manages to deliver most of the upgrades as software updates that everyone gets, providing current Model S owners with pleasant surprises. — Ashlee Vance

You'll be all right. You're strong. I know you'll be okay because I like you and you can't like someone who doesn't like themself. The people I fear for are the ones who I don't like because they hate themselves so much they won't let anyone else like them either. But I do like you. I'll miss you. And I know you'll be okay. — Sarah Kane

So you see, it doesn't terribly matter if you miss one item of knowledge in a series of similar items because providing you understand the series you already know without knowing that you know. — Christine Brooke-Rose

Miss Murray is leaning on the door. "Ash, come on. It's time to go." Her hand is so tight on the handle, her knuckles are pale. She's looking at the floor. "Miss Murray?"
"What?" She doesn't move.
I stare at her face but she doesn't return the look. "I love you."
The air in the room has frozen, every atom suspended. Then her tense body slackens. Her hand loosens its grip on the door and she turns her head slowly towards me. She meets my gaze for a moment. Her eyes have dark rings under them. Her forehead is creased with worry. Her cheeks are pale. I want to make it all OK. I want to make her happy. I desperately want to touch her face.
"I know," she says quietly. — Liz Kessler

In the time it takes for all of this to happen, Tariq takes a shower. In the time it takes for all of this to happen, Craig (admittedly a slow eater) eats a piece of French toast. In the time it takes for all of this to happen, Peter loads up a video game and starts to play. In the time it takes for all of this to happen, Avery wakes to find a phone number still written on his hand, and wonders what to do next. He doesn't have to worry, though. Ryan is already on it. He has Avery's number in his phone, and as soon as the clock hits ten, he's going to call. He feels it's rude to call anyone before ten. So he waits. Impatiently, he waits. It's funny the things you miss. Like phone cords. Reading — David Levithan

The saddest thing is there won't be anyone to miss us when we're gone. No family, no friends, no one waiting at home."
"It's better that way," I said. "It'll be easier for me, knowing my death doesn't add to anyone's pain."
"If you can't give anyone pain, then you can't give them joy either. — Jennifer A. Nielsen

Emily Post says that talking about oneself isn't very polite.' 'I'm sure Miss Post is perfectly correct, but that doesn't seem to stop the rest of us. — Amor Towles

What do I miss? Second-hand bookshops where I can find things I had no idea I wanted. AbeBooks helps, but it doesn't have that smell. — David Mitchell

And you thought you'd honk Shay off real good by asking the man at the top of her Most Hated list." "She doesn't hate you." "Could've fooled me." "Well, you haven't fooled anybody, least of all me." Miss Lucy's eyes, magnified by the bottle glasses, narrowed knowingly. Travis looked toward the darkening sky and clamped his jaw. "Don't know what you're talking about." "Don't be contrary with me, Travis McCoy. I've known you since you were running around this place in nothing but a diaper. You're still in love with Shay. — Denise Hunter

When you miss someone ... it's weird ... your body doesn't function normally..as it should. Because I miss you, and my heart ... it's not steady ... my soul it sings numb. Fingers are cold ... like you ... your soul. — Coco J. Ginger

There are many images which I miss on purpose. I've done too many of them before and photographing them again doesn't change the world, or me. — Jim Goldberg

No matter how far they traveled, they always had this house to welcome them home." "True. Did you ever wonder why they altered it so often?" "Miss Everleigh says they were innovators. Visionaries." He glanced at her, the firelight shadowing his face. "They kept knocking down the walls. Expanding them, making new routes for egress. Not much innovation in that. As visions go, it's the dream of claustrophobics." The notion unsettled her. "What do you mean to say?" "I mean, they traveled to escape this place." He reached for the bottle, splashed more liquor into his glass. Set down the bottle and stared at it. "Came back very reluctantly, already itching to leave again." She did not like that idea. "It was their home. They were a famously loving family - " "It's a house," he said. "That doesn't make it a home. And family - yes, family is important. But it can trap you more neatly than four walls and a locked door." Her — Meredith Duran

Freddie will have been dead for 20 years in November. I was staggered because it doesn't seem possible that all that time has passed and I still miss him. He was my best friend, my best man. We shared so much and I owe so much to him. — Roger Meddows Taylor

Miss Beryl: Doesn't it bother you that you haven't done more with the life God gave you?
Sully: Not often. Now and then. — Richard Russo