Hello What Is Your Name Quotes & Sayings

Afternoon,Caputo," Cole said.
Jack's face remained a cool mask. "Hello, Cole.Becks."
Cole froze at Jack's casual use of his real name. His arm dropped from my shoulders. I couldn't help but smile.
Jack looked at me. "I'll see you in Mrs. Stone's room, Becks. You're coming, right? Mythology paper?"
I nodded.Just before he sauntered away, Jack winked at me and slapped Cole hard on the shoulder. "See you around, Neal. — Brodi Ashton

Hello, Master. I'm running now - but I've had time to reflect on your teachings. You say the living sometimes have to suffer to serve a larger goal. I've seen how you live by that. Well, I have a goal now, too. Justice. For myself, for my friends, for the people sacrificed to the plans of the so-called infallible. And it will definitely involve some suffering. Because, you see, I've had a vision of my own. One day, one of you is going to confess and clear my name. And to make sure, I'm going to hunt down each and every one of you. The one that confesses, lives. I don't care which one of you does it. It doesn't matter where they send you. You have a death mark, same as me. Don't look for me, Lucien. Because I'll find you. And if I do end up collapsing the Jedi Order, just remember one thing. You started it."

-Zayne Carrick, KOTR comics — John Jackson Miller

Hello, my name is ees Lebkuchen Spice, and I vant to show you my coooooookies ... — David Levithan

Hello, my name is your potential. But you can call me impossible. I am the missed opportunities. I am the expectations you will never fulfil. I am always taunting you, regardless of how hard you try, regardless of how much you hope. Please put talcum powder on my arse when you wash me, and take note of how our shit smells exactly the same. — Nathan Filer

Hello, Miya."
His smooth tone speaking my name made a warm sensation tingle across the surface of my body.
A hundred questions ran through my head, wanting to be spoken. How do they know who I am? Who are they? What do they want with me? I was a single, working-class associate professor with department store clothes. Surely they didn't think they would get much of a ransom for me. The expression on the man's face held me, and my demanding thoughts.
"We aren't going to harm you."
I smirked at him and glanced at my right arm, feeling its ache. My elbow might be badly bruised, but it wasn't broken. His eyes followed mine and he sighed.
"That was an accident." His tan, sinewy hand touched my wrist then delicately ran down my bones to my elbow. I flinched, but didn't feel any pain. — Derendrea

Hello, Lucy. Do you name all your weapons, Grunthor?"
"O' course. It's tradition."
Rhapsody nodded, understanding coming into her eyes. "That makes perfect sense. Do you find that you fight better with a weapon you've named?"
"Yep."
Her eyes began to sparkle with excitement. "Why, Grunthor, in a way, you're a Namer, too!"
The giant broke into a pleased grin. "Well, whaddaya know. Should Oi sing a lit'le song?"
"No," said Rhapsody and Achmed in unison. — Elizabeth Haydon

Hello, my name is Lisa Jakub. But most people in a restaurant/dentist's office/yoga studio dressing room, call me 'Hey, you look like that girl from 'Mrs. Doubtfire'/'Independence Day'/'Rambling Rose.' There is a good reason for that. I am that girl. More accurately, I was that girl. — Lisa Jakub

Feel"

Hello everyone, how are y'all doing Y'all seem busy
Don't mean to disturb you, is it me or y'all look dizzy

Can you hear the ocean screaming, can you see the wind in your hair
I know it all seems scattered here and there

Do I sound odd to you, Do you already have a name for me
Where do I belong to, How hard is it for everyone to agree

Can anyone hear me I see all of your vague faces
Coming from all different places
Unconsciously robbed of own your rights,
I wish I could make you all feel despite of all your races

Touch the ground, grab a stone and y'all know you're not alone
Have a mind of your own

Time ticks on
Each hour closer the death
Love, feel what are you waiting upon
Don't waste one breath. — Mauro Lannini

I hear my name rippling through the hot air, spreading out into the hospital. "Katniss! Katniss Everdeen!" The sounds of pain and grief begin to recede, to be replaced by words of anticipation. From all sides, voices beckon me. I begin to move, clasping the hands extended to me, touching the sound parts of those unable to move their limbs, saying hello, how are you, good to meet you. Nothing of importance, no amazing words of inspiration. But it doesn't matter. Boggs is right. It's the sight of me, alive, that is the inspiration. — Suzanne Collins

I just had this image of you brandishing the hot fire poker at Brad, and saying: 'Hello, my name is Carmen Winters. You killed my daughter. Prepare to die.'" A — Loretta Lost

Each of the dancers took a partner, the living with the dead, each to each. Bod reached out his hand and found himself touching fingers with, and gazing into the grey eyes of, the lady in the cobweb dress. She smiled at him.
"Hello, Bod," she said.
"Hello," he said, as he danced with her. "I don't know your name."
"Names aren't really important," she said.
"I love your horse. He's so big! I never knew horses could be that big."
"He is gentle enough to bear the mightiest of you away on his broad back, and strong enough for the smallest of you as well."
"Can I ride him?" asked Bod.
"One day," she told him, and her cobweb skirts shimmered. "One day. Everybody does."
"Promise?"
I promise. — Neil Gaiman

When she's close enough, she extends her hand. "Hello, my name is Natalie. I'm Beatrice's mother." Beatrice. That name is so wrong for her. — Veronica Roth

Dad always said this town could wreck a person, it's what happens when you're playing a rigged game. I convinced myself winning meant getting out.
But in what world do you get to leave the ring and declare victory? This is where I belong, in the fight. It's who I am.
I've rolled around in the mud for so long, wash me clean and I don't recognize myself. So how about I just accept the mud and the tendency I have to find myself rolling in it. My name is Veronica and I'm an addict. Hello Veronica. — Rob Thomas

Excuse me! May I have your attention, please!" he called out, completely unnecessarily. Every eye was already on the mad detective, who was hunching slightly under the rearing hooves of the marble horse. "Yes, hello, everyone. Many of you know me, but if you have never had occasion to work with me-or to arrest me-my name is R.F.Jackaby. — William Ritter

Bow down, peons," Lincoln said. "I'm a king among men." "Where are you coming up with this?" Cole asked him. Lincoln pointed at Jackson. "Um, hello - Jackson Burke knows my name. — Lauren Layne

Boomer took bites of all six varieties, contemplating each one and "guring out the order in which he would then eat them. "I like the
brown one and the lighter brown one and the almost-brown one. I'm not so sure about the minty one. But really, I think the lebkuchen spice
one is the best."
"The what?"
"The lebkuchen spice one." He held it up for me. "This one."
"You're making that up. What's a lebkuchen spice? It sounds like a cross between a Keebler elf and a stripper. Hello, my name ees
Lebkuchen Spice, and I vant to show you my cooooookies ... "
"Don't be rude!" Boomer protested. As if the cookie might be offended. — David Levithan

I like to read them and write them, I say shyly. Hello, my name is Sparrow and I am a nerd. — Willow Aster

His name was Mr. O. H. Lee and sometimes she said hello and he said nothing. — Jim Bishop

Ben shook his head.
Sitting down he asked, "So, you are Marty, right?"
He got an incredulous look in response along with a cautious, "Yeah."
"You look way different dressed like that and without any make up on and stuff. Like a pretty guy almost, no offense."
Marty widened her eyes incredulously. "Umm...I have a confession here I obviously need to make. We're in public, so don't you dare punch me, or try to jump me later. I got witnesses who'll be able to verify I was here with you and that you threatened me."
Ben's brows furrowed. "What? Why would I do that?"
"Hello, my name is Marty." Marty extended her hand across the table. "I'm a guy. — Leona Windwalker

He would find the six-fingered man. He would go up to him. He would say simply, "Hello, my name is Inigo Montoya, you killed my father, prepare to die," and then, oh then, the duel. — William Goldman

Books," I say firmly. "I'm crazy about books."
He laughs. "Okay. That's cool."
"I like to read them and write them," I say shyly.
Hello, my name is Sparrow and I am a nerd.
"He lifts his eyebrows, and his eyes land on my mouth. "God, everything you say is hot. — Willow Aster

You keep seeing your picture on posters that you are missing but you're not. That'd be weird, right? Or say you look down at the sidewalk and earthworms are spelling your name. Or you open a peanut bag and the 'hello' is written in your writing on the inside of the shell. Would that weird ya? — Lynda Barry

Musicians in my day had nicknames. My name was "Satchel Mouth," like a doctor's satchel. When I went to England this fellow was strictly English, and he was editor of the newspaper there. He shook my hand after I got off the train and said, "Hello, Satchmo." So right away my trombone player said, "Mmm, the man thinks you have mo' mouth than Satchel Mouth." So I was stuck with it, and it turned out all right. — Louis Armstrong

I'm here to see Evelyn."
"Sure," one of them says. "Because we just let anyone in who wants to see her."
"I have a message from the people outside," I say. "One I'm sure she would like to hear."
"Tobias?" a factionless woman says. I recognize her, but not from a factionless warehouse
from the Abnegation sector. She was my neighbor. Grace is her name.
"Hello, Grace," I say. "I just want to talk to my mom."
She bites the inside of her cheek and considers me. Her grip on her pistol falters. "Well, we're still not supposed to let anyone in."
"For God's sake," Peter says. "Go tell her we're here and see what she says, then! We can wait. — Veronica Roth

Standing alone at the railing is Four. Though he's not an initiate anymore, most of the Dauntless use this day to come together with their families. Either his family doesn't like to come together, or he wasn't originally a Dauntless. Which faction could he have come from? "There's one of my instructors." I lean closer to say. "He's kind of intimidating." "He's handsome," she says. I find myself nodding without thinking. She laughs and lifts her arm from my shoulders. I want to steer her away from him, but just as I'm about to suggest that we go somewhere else, he looks over his shoulder. His eyes widen at the sight of my mother. She offers him her hand. "Hello. My name is Natalie," she says. "I'm Beatrice's mother." I have never seen my mother shake hands with someone. Four eases his hand into hers, looking stiff, and shakes it twice. The gesture looks unnatural for both of them. No, Four was not originally Dauntless if he doesn't shake hands easily. — Veronica Roth

Hello, my name is Jaako and I am an addict. I am addicted to reading. — Jaako J. Wallenius

Pale eyes, and a pointy nose. A gingham bonnet covered her hair. "Hello," she said to Cora. Both the man and the woman crouched low, their faces level with hers. Cora could not cough or pretend to be slow: one of the agents was right there, watching. The man asked her name, and she told him. He asked her age, and she said she didn't know, but that she'd just lost her first tooth. Both the man and the woman laughed as if Cora had said something terribly funny, as if she were one of the children singing the Jesus song, trying hard to be cute. She gave them a hard look, but they continued to smile. The man looked at the woman. The — Laura Moriarty

The llama was wearing a bridle with a rope attached where you might expect to find reins. A greeting card was hanging from his neck:
'Hola Como se llama? Yo me llamo C. Llama.'
During his preschool years, Clay's favorite cartoon had featured a Spanish-speaking boy naturalist who was always saving animals with his girl cousin, and Clay still knew enough of the language to translate:
'Hello. How do you call yourself? I call myself Como C. Llama.'
The llama's name is What is your name? — Pseudonymous Bosch

Her name badge read: Hello! My name is DIE, DEMIGOD SCUM! — Rick Riordan

On the phone
Bookseller: Hello Ripping Yarns.
Customer: Do you have any mohair wool?
Bookseller: Sorry, we're not a yarns shop, we're a bookshop.
Customer: You're called Ripping Yarns.
Bookseller: Yes, that's 'yarns' as in stories.
Customer: Well it's a stupid name.
Bookseller: It's a Monty Python reference.
Customer: So you don't sell wool?
Bookseller: No.
Customer: Hmf. Ridiculous.
Bookseller: ... but we do sell dead parrots.
Customer: What?
Bookseller: Parrots. Dead. Extinct. Expired. Would you like one?
Customer: Erm, no.
Bookseller: Ok, well if you change your mind, do call back. — Jen Campbell

Hello, my name is Angel, and I'll be your zombie today. — Diana Rowland

Whatever our bedtime was as kids, we could stay up an extra half hour if we were reading. My parents didn't care as long as I was under the spell of a Stephen King or a Douglas Adams. Now I read in bed. I read at work. I read standing in line. It's like, 'Hello, my name is Nathan and I am a reader.' — Nathan Fillion

Hello, my name is Noam and I have the answer to all your problems. It's all the fault of the evil Americans, the bad conservative ones that fill the airwaves with their lies and are in power and want to oppress the world. There. Now give me money so that I can soothsay again and assuage your guilt. — John Ringo

Uh, hello? I prefer recently reformed promiscuous reprobate. I'm just sayin', if we're gonna name call, let's just make sure we get 'em straight — Jenn Cooksey