Hey Pretty Girl Quotes & Sayings

Joe!' he called. 'Hey, honey, can you get the pretty girl a Coke?'
'Only if you stop calling me *honey*,' the bartender, a bearded man in his thirties, replied. 'We've had this discussion before, Harrison.'
'Aw, Joe. It's so cute that you think I listen. — Kody Keplinger

Catcalling is pretty much never going to work. Like anytime a guy's like, "Hey girl! Can we friends?" It's like, I don't know you. I'm just walking by right now, and that's weird. No relationship has ever started from a catcall. — Carly Aquilino

Archer?" I asked, raising my eyebrows. Hey, you might be able to take away my magical powers, but the power of sarcasm was still at my disposal. "Is your last name Newport or Vanderbilt? Maybe followed by some numbers? Ooh!" I said, widening my eyes, "or maybe even Esquire!"
I'd hoped to hurt his feelings or, at the very least, make him angry, but he just kept smiling at me. "Actually, it's Archer Cross, and I'm the first one. Now what about you?" He squinted. "Let's see ... brown hair, freckles, whole girl-next-door vibe going on ... Allie? Lacie? Definitely something cutesy ending in ie."
You know those times when your mouth moves but no sound actually comes out? Yeah, that's pretty much what happened. And then, of course, my mom took that opportunity to end her conversation with Justin's parents and call out, "Sophie! Wait up."
"I knew it." Archer laughed. "See you, Sophie," he called over his shoulder as he disappeared into the house. — Rachel Hawkins

Mostly, it was just me walking them. My own private Iditarod. And it wasn't a picnic. Just so you know, if you ever see a person walking four dogs, there are two things you can cross off your list of what to exclaim: (1) "Who's walking who?" and (2) "Looks like you got your hands full." Both lines are stupid and someone else has already said them. You might consider saying, "Hey, pretty girl!" or "Wow, four dogs sure make you look thin! — Julie Klam

So what did Jes say?' I asked again, when my brain felt a bit less scrambled.
'He said I should take good care of you.'
'That's all?'
Mal cleared his throat. 'And ... he said he would pray to the God of Work to heal your affliction.'
'My what?'
'I many have told him that you have a goiter.'
I stumbled. 'I beg your pardon?'
'Well, I had to explain why you were always clinging to that scarf.'
I dropped my hand. I'd been doing it again without even realizing.
'So you told him I had a goiter?' I whispered incredulously.
'I had to say something. And it makes you quite a tragic figure. Pretty girl, giant growth, you know.'
I punched him hard in the arm.
'Ow! Hey, in some countries, goiters are considered very fashionable.'
'Do they like eunuchs, too? Because I can arrange that.'
'So bloodthirsty!'
'My goiter makes me cranky. — Leigh Bardugo

I looked above the jeans. Vintage Fugazi concert tee. Green flannel shirt. 10. I looked above the flannel. Two weeks' worth of shaggy blond beard. Mmm. Country hipster. 11. I looked above the beard. Lips. 12. I looked at the lips. 13. I looked at the lips. 14. I looked at the lips. 15. COME ON. 16. I looked above the lips. 17. I was glad I looked above the lips. 18. The eyes and the hair were a package deal, the hair was falling across his eyes in a careless way that said "Hey, girl. I've got peas on my shoes, but who cares, because I've got these eyes and this hair, and it's pretty fucking great." 19. The hair was the color of tabbouleh. 20. His eyes were the color of . . . 21. Pickles? 22. Green beans? 23. No. Broccoli that had been steamed for exactly sixty seconds. Vibrant. Piercing. — Alice Clayton

The eyes and the hair were a package deal, the hair was falling across his eyes in a careless way that said Hey, girl. I've got peas on my shoes, but who cares, because I've got these eyes and this hair, and it's pretty fucking great. — Alice Clayton

Sourwood Mountain

Chickens a-crowin' on Sourwood Mountain,
Hey, ho, diddle-um day.
So many pretty girls I can't count 'em,
Hey ho, diddle-um day.

My true love's a blue-eyed daisy,
She won't come and I'm too lazy.

Big dog bark and little one bite you,
Big girl court and little one spite you.

My true love's a blue-eyed daisy,
If I don't get her, I'll go crazy.

My true love lives at the head of the holler,
She won't come and I won't foller.

My true love lives over the river,
A few more jumps and I'll be with her.

Ducks in the pond, geese in the ocean,
Devil's in the women if they take a notion. — Unknown

Hey, you wanna drop back a few paces? Did you forget how spying works? You're supposed to at least aim for unobtrusive. The others pretty much have it down, but you're about as inconspicuous as a drag queen at a Girl Scout meeting. — Rachel Vincent

No fainting in the middle of the road," said a voice close to my ear as a heavy arm landed across my shoulders and gave me a squeeze. I looked up to see Mal's familiar face, a smile in his bright blue eyes as he fell into step beside me. "C'mon," he said. "One foot in front of the other. You know how it's done." "You're interfering with my plan." "Oh really?" "Yes. Faint, get trampled, grievous injuries all around." "That sounds like a brilliant plan." "Ah, but if I'm horribly maimed, I won't be able to cross the Fold." Mal nodded slowly. "I see. I can shove you under a cart if that would help." "I'll think about it," I grumbled, but I felt my mood lifting all the same. Despite my best efforts, Mal still had that effect on me. And I wasn't the only one. A pretty blond girl strolled by and waved, throwing Mal a flirtatious glance over her shoulder. "Hey, — Leigh Bardugo