His Phone Call Quotes & Sayings

Remember those reserves I mentioned? Time to call them up. I pick up the phone and dial. A soothing greets me after the second ring. The perfect combination of strength and comfort, and I answer back. "Hi, Mom." You thought I was calling someone else, didn't you? Deep down - I'm a momma's boy. I'm man enough to admit it. 'And trust me, I'm not the only one. Explains a lot, doesn't it? That's the reason your boyfriend can't manage to get his socks or underwear actually in the hamper-because he grew up with mommy doing it for him. — Emma Chase

I would be psyched to get a phone call from Al Sharpton. I need to find out who does his hair. It's beautiful. It's a gorgeous mane. — Nick Kroll

I got a phone call from George Miller [the director] asking me to play this role. We sat down and he showed me on his computer a documentary-type montage sequence of real penguins swimming, in an Esther Williams synchronized sort of way, and doing things I have never seen them do. Then he explained his vision of the film, asked me to read the script and to voice the character. I was cast a little bit later, and he let me do the singing as well! — Brittany Murphy

It has come to the point where if I know I'm leaving a house with a man, I can factor in a bathroom visit or a phone call or both, and when I'm done, he'll almost be done tying his shoes. — Mindy Kaling

I felt badly because I'd been nasty. After your behavior tonight, I only wish I'd been nastier. I can be," she added on a threat.
Alan only smiled as Mario brought the wine to the table. Watching Shelby, Alan tasted it, then nodded. "Very good. It's the sort of flavor that stays with you for hours. Later, when I kiss you,the taste will still be there."
The blood began to hum in her ears. "I'm only here because you dragged me."
To his credit, Mario didn't spill a drop of the wine he poured as he listened.
Her eyes heated as Alan continued to smile. "And since you refuse to give me my keys,I'll simply walk to the nearest phone and call a locksmith. You'll get the bill."
"After dinner," Alan suggested. "How do you like the wine?"
Scowling, Shelby lifted the glass and drained half the contents. "It's fine." Her eyes, insolent now, stayed level with his. "This isn't a date, you know."
"It's becoming more of a filibuster, isn't it? More wine? — Nora Roberts

As you all know by now, Barack Obama sent out a cell phone text message at 3 a.m. on Saturday morning to tell everyone he picked Joe Biden as his vice president. How do you think this makes Hillary Clinton feel, huh? Finally, she gets a telephone call at 3 a.m., it's to tell her they picked Joe Biden. — Jay Leno

You didn't call me last night."
"Was I supposed to?"
He looked down. "Just figured now that you had my number ... Kept my phone on all night, just in case." He laughed. "I started to worry that it didn't work. Actually went out to a pay phone to test it."
"You could have called me. That way you left me after lunch on Saturday, I figured ... " I ended there and shrugged, not wanting to be mad at him or get into any kind of argument. "Anyway, after auditions I went to the gym with Steph, and I'm so behind in my homework it's not even funny." Of course I'd punched in his number about eighteen times without actually ever calling him. I wasn't sure what I'd say, and worried about how I'd feel if he didn't answer.
"I shouldn't have left like that on Saturday."
"Yeah, well." I waved my hands. "Don't worry about it. I have to finish getting ready. There's cereal and stuff ... just make yourself at home. — Sara Zarr

Yeah, I know, the Mars thing. I've been meaning to talk to you about that. When did you get the idea it would be cute to carve my dad's cell-phone number on a rock in the middle of Syrtis Major? He hates it when people call me on his phone."
Kit gave Nita a resigned look. "Sorry," he said, "I couldn't resist. — Diane Duane

There is a joke about a commuter who's on his way to work when he gets a call on his mobile phone from his wife. "Be careful, honey," she says. "They just said on the radio that there's a maniac driving on the wrong side of the freeway." "One maniac?" he replies; "There are thousands of them! — Steven Pinker

If he's not calling you, it's because you are not on his mind. If he creates expectations for you, and then doesn't follow through on little things, he will do same for big things. Be aware of this and realize that he's okay with disappointing you. Don't be with someone who doesn't do what they say they're going to do. If he's choosing not to make a simple effort that would put you at ease and bring harmony to a recurring fight, then he doesn't respect your feelings and needs. "Busy" is another word for "asshole." "Asshole" is another word for the guy you're dating. You deserve a fcking phone call. — Greg Behrendt

All right," I said. "Keep in touch with cell phones." "We don't have cell phones," Silena protested. I reached down, picked up some snoring lady's BlackBerry and tossed it to Silena. "You do now. You all know Annabeth's number, right? If you need us, pick up a random phone and call us. Use it once, drop it, then borrow another one if you have to. That should make it harder for the monsters to zero in on you." Everyone grinned as though they liked this idea. Travis cleared his throat. "Uh, if we find a really nice phone - " "No, you can't keep it," I said. "Aw, man. — Rick Riordan

And old Dave, he'd go up to his room, y'understand, put on his green velvet slippers - I'll never forget - and pick up his phone and call the buyers, and without leaving his room, at the age of eighty-four, he made his living. And when I saw that, I realized that selling was the greatest career a man could want. — Arthur Miller

Just then Patch ambled through the front door. I did a double take to make it was really him. I hadn't expected him to come. We'd never resolved our fight, and I'd pridefully refused to take the first step, forcing myself to lock my cell phone in a drawer every time I was tempted to call him and apologize, despite my increasing distress that he might never call either. My pride immediately turned to relief at the sight of him. I hated fighting. I hated not having him close. If he was ready to mend this, so was I.A smile flickered across my face at the sight of his costume; black jeans, black t-shirt, black face mask. The latter concealed all but his cool, assessing gaze.
"There's my date," I said. "Fashionably late. — Becca Fitzpatrick

I believe you have Thomas's number?"
He reached around her, his arm brushing her shoulders, his scent enveloping her. Any of his kind would recognize his brand, would know she belong to him just from his scent on her. The human, however, would never notice. Irritated by the thought, Aidan found the business card beneath the phone and handed it to her.
"Call him," he dared softly. — Christine Feehan

That night I didn't sleep a wink, said Norton in her letter, and it occurred to me to call Morini. It was late, it was rude to bother him at that hour, it was rash of me, it was a terrible imposition, but I called him. I remember I dialed his number and immediately I turned out the light in the room, as if so long as I was in the dark Morini couldn't see my face. To my surprise, he picked up the phone instantly. — Roberto Bolano

Franklin Delano Roosevelt, for his part, was less than enthralled with his wife's alliance with the NAACP, and the White House attempted to maintain a distance between the president and Eleanor's activism on behalf of blacks. Marshall himself had felt the president's chill when Attorney General Francis Biddle phoned FDR to discuss the NAACP's involvement in a race case in Virginia. At Biddle's instruction, Marshall picked up an extension phone to listen in, only to hear FDR exclaim, "I warned you not to call me again about any of Eleanor's niggers. Call me one more time and you are fired." Marshall later recalled, "The President only said 'nigger' once, but once was enough for me. — Gilbert King

I feel if some kid has sat down and felt I'm important enough to write two pages of words to and take up a lot of his valuable time, then he deserves a few words back, or even a phone call as I have done on a few occasions. — Jim Dale

I hit Crash's button and we heard the phone inside start to ring.
After four, he answered. "Hey, PsyPig." His voice was husky. "I'd normally tell you not to call me at this ungodly hour, but evidently someone's running a cockfghting ring in the hall, so I wasn't actually asleep ... "
"It's me. Open up."
He was actually silent for a second. "Aren't /you/ butch?"
"Don't fuck around. I need to see Miss Mattie."
"Okay, okay, don't get your handcuffs in a twist. I can't find my pants."
I wondered if he could say the word "pants" without making something dirty out of it.
"Unless, of course, this visit is clothing-optional."
And there it was. I rolled my eyes, even though he couldn't see me since the door was still shut. — Jordan Castillo Price

How do we know when someone like Hasan is going to make his move and do we know he's an Islamist until he's made his move? He makes a phone call or whatever, according to Reuters right now. Apparently he tried to contact al-Qaida. Is that the point at which you say, "This guy is dangerous?" That's not a crime to call up al-Qaida, is it? Is it? I mean, where do you stop the guy? — Chris Matthews

You've got her mad now and there's no turning back. All she has to do is go to the authorities, saying you molested her. Is that what you want? One little phone call and your life is ruined.'

'But I didn't do anything. I'm gay, remember?'

'That's not going to save you,' she said. 'Push comes to shove and who do you think they're going to believe, a nine-year-old girl or the full-grown man who gets his jollies carving little creatures out of balsa wood?'

'They're NOT little creatures!' I yelled. 'They're tool people! — David Sedaris

Interesting how fashion is cyclical," Jaccob said when she came out of the store with two black plastic bags. "Goth was the look when I was young, too."
"It's not a look," Chuck said. "I'm just wearing my feelings on the outside."
"Uh huh." His phone buzzed. "Hang on a second."
He rolled up his sleeve to check his HUD, but the call hadn't come through there.
Huh. He had to pick up his phone and check the read-out, which listed a phone number: an old school page. "That's funny ... "
"Dad, you're doing that thing again," Chuck said.
"What thing?" Jaccob asked.
"That thing where you have to check every single doohickey you carry around."
"I am not." Jaccob took his hand out of his coat pocket, where he'd been reaching to check his police scanner or music player (he hadn't decided which to use first). — Erik Scott De Bie

May I see you again?" he asked. There was an endearing nervousness in his voice.
I smiled. "Sure."
"Tomorrow?" he asked.
"Patience, grasshopper," I counseled. "You don't want to seem overeager.
"Right, that's why I said tomorrow," he said. "I want to see you again tonight. But I'm willing to wait all night and much of tomorrow." I rolled my eyes. "I'm serious," he said.
"You don't even know me," I said. I grabbed the book from the center console. "How about I call you when I finish this?"
"But you don't even have my phone number," he said.
"I strongly suspect you wrote it in this book."
He broke out into that goofy smile. "And you say we don't know each other. — John Green

The givers and keepers of Gogol's name are far from him now. One dead. Another, a widow, on the verge of a different sort of departure, in order to dwell, as his father does, in a separate world. She will call him, once a week, on the phone. She will learn to send e-mail, she says. Once or twice a week, he will hear "Gogol" over the wires, see it typed on a screen. As for all the people in the house, all the mashis and meshos to whom he is still, and will always be, Gogol - now that his mother is moving away, how often will he see them? Without people in the world to call him Gogol, no matter how long he himself lives, Gogol Ganguli will, once and for all, vanish from the lips of loved ones, and so, cease to exist. Yet the thought of this eventual demise provides no sense of victory, no solace. It provides no solace at all. — Jhumpa Lahiri

Today a soldier can go out on patrol and kill someone or have one of his friends killed and call his girlfriend on his cell phone that night and probably talk about anything except what just happened. And if society itself tries to blur it as much as possible, by conscious well-intended efforts to provide "all the comforts of home" and modern transportation and communication, what chance does your average eighteen-year-old have of not becoming confused?2 — Karl Marlantes

I have waited twenty years for this phone call . . . and all this time I thought it would go away. I knew I would always be sad for my sister. But I thought the other would go away."

"What is the other, Henrik?" Though he knew the answer.

"Anger . . . I am still angry, Detective Bosch."

Bosch nodded. He looked down at his desk, at the photos of all the victims under the glass top. Cases and faces. His eyes moved from the photo of Anneke Jespersen to some of the others. The ones he had not yet spoken for.

"So am I, Henrik," he said. "So am I."

- "The Burning Room" by Michael Connelly — Michael Connelly

Billy knew, as soon as he hung up the phone, a familiar knot in his stomach, that Isabella was the only detective to call for a case like this. As the smartest detective in his Special Victims Unit, Isabella's edge was her skill in handling women. As a woman herself she had an advantage, but she had taken that edge and honed it by handling the unit's most sensitive scenarios. That skill would come in handy here - country club set, tony town, mother of two daughters - a lot of women to handle. — Alexa Steele

My hopes rose every time the phone rang, but it was never him. I concocted stories in my mind of every possible scenario where he would come for me or call me and declare his feelings. We would run far away together, where his father could never find us.
In other words, I was delusional. — Wendy Higgins

For the entire summer, Lane's cell phone background was a picture of Jared eating Lucky Charms out of the Kelly Cup.
Jared's was, of course, that shot of his that blocked Lane's would-be goal. According to Jared, it was going to stay that way until he had a picture of Lane drinking Dr Pepper out of Lord Stanley's Cup to replace it with. He liked to call it incentive. — Avon Gale

I tried to call your cell phone when we got in to see if you made it."
Ash immediately tensed as he put his comic down and pulled out another issue. "I turned it off on the day I got here."
"Really?" Dante asked, stunned by Ash's confession. It wasn't like him to be out of touch with his Dark-Hunter charges. "What if one of the Dark-Hunters needed you?"
Ash shrugged. "If they can't survive alone for four days once a year, they deserve to die. — Sherrilyn Kenyon

Time hangs suspended, and yet it's about to end. Death should be a seduction, not a rape. Given one more minute he could do so much. Even the guilty are allowed to make a phone call, send a message. How alive he feels, how brightly he shines, like a lit fuse, a firecracker about to go off. What he wouldn't give for a minute more, just one ordinary minute tacked cudely onto the end of his life. — A.S.A Harrison

Greetings. There is a body buried on your property, covered in your blood. The unfortunate young lady's name is Rita Jones. You've seen this missing school-teacher's face on the news, I'm sure. In her jeans pocket you'll find a slip of paper with a phone number on it. You have one day to call that number. If I have not heard from you by 8:00 P.M. tomorrow (5/17), the Charlotte Police Department will receive an anonymous phone call. I'll tell them where Rita Jones is buried on Andrew Thomas's lakefront property, how he killed her, and where the murder weapon can be found in his house. (I do believe a paring knife is missing from your kitchen.) I hope for your sake I don't have to make that call. I've placed a property marker on the grave site. Just walk along the shoreline toward the southern boundary of your property and you'll find it. I strongly advise against going to the police, as I am always watching you. A — Blake Crouch

We had just paid the check when Dimitri's cell phone rang. "Hello?" he answered. And like that, his face transformed. That fierceness I so associated with him softened, and he practically glowed. "No, no. It's always a good time for you to call, Roza." Whatever the response on the other end was, it made him smile. — Richelle Mead

You could fill a catalog with all you long for - for him to come back, for a do-over, for a different ending in which not only were you strong and said good-bye but he lived and made a success of his life and decades later you could look back together on your twenties and laugh at all your follies, for his voice on the other end of the phone call, for one more of those Albuquerque nights when it was easy to fall asleep knowing he was just in the next room. — Leigh Stein

You have until midnight to get here," someone whispers, low and growly. It's a man, but he's purposely distorting his voice. "If you call the cops, she dies."
"What do you want from us?" I ask. "Why are you doing this?"
The phone disconnects, leaving a silence as still as death.
If you call the cops, she dies. "And if I don't call the cops, we probably both die," I mutter. "This is too much for me. — Paula Stokes

Yes,I'm seeing someone," Nick said. Standing beside them but hardly acknowledging them.He was watching for my answer on his phone.
"For how long?" a woman asked.
"Four years," I heard him say.
"Aww!" I squealed. Then I turned to Chloe. "Do I want to be in People?"
"No," she said firmly. "Nick is ot."
Gavin frowned and poked her in the side. "Hey."
She ducked away from his finger. "Facts are facts. Nick is hot,and when girls read People and see he's dating you,they will call you a skank ho. You and I have mooned over Prince William. We know the deal. — Jennifer Echols

Win unfastened his seat belt and walked over to Evan Crisp. He handed him the satellite phone. "I need you to call Herman Ache. Tell him we will meet him at his Livingston residence within the hour." Crisp offered up skeptical. "You're kidding, right?" "I am indeed a mirthful fellow. But no." "He won't let you in armed." "That's — Harlan Coben

He explained civilization to me. I mean how it looks to him. He's going to let it go on a little while longer. But it better be careful and not interfere with his private life. If it does, he's apt to make a phone call to God and cancel the order. — Raymond Chandler

She held his eyes. "Truth."
"How did Taylor get you to that party, really?" He gave her a quick once-over. "Especially looking like that."
She shifted to look out at the darkness. "I changed my mind. Dare."
Gabriel slid his cell phone out of his picket and held it out. "Okay. Here. I dare you to call your father and tell him you're sitting in a dark parking lot with me."
"Ooooh." She glared up at him without any real malice. "I don't think I like this game."
He smiled. "Come on, pony up. — Brigid Kemmerer

Granddaddy can pick up a phone and call anyone in the world and they will take his call. But he doesn't know it. — Johnny Hunt

Then she called Gansey.
It rang twice, three times, and then: "Hello?"
He sounded boyish and ordinary. Blue asked, "Did I wake you up?"
She heard Gansey fumble for and scrape up his wireframes.
"No," he lied, "I was awake."
"I called you by accident anyway. I meant to call Congress, but your number was one off."
"Oh?"
"Yeah, because yours has 6-6-5 in it." She paused. "Get it?"
"Oh, you."
"6-6-5. One number different. Get it?"
"Yeah, I got it. — Maggie Stiefvater

There's a latter-day notion that artsy hippie types in the 1960s disdained the space program. Not in my experience they didn't. We watched, transfixed with reverence, not even making rude remarks about President Nixon during his phone call to the astronauts. — Patrick Nielsen Hayden

Are you busy?" I ask.

"I'm working on a paper. Recall? The phone conversation we had fifteen minutes ago?"

I glance up at a clock in the hall, and then back at his smart-ass mouth.

"It was twenty minutes ago."

"I need coffee," he says, and why is he being such an adorable dick, still smiling at me like that? "Want to walk up to Dunkin' Donuts?"

"What about Millie?" I say.

"What about her?"

"Does she want any?"

"Should we call her and ask?"

"Isn't she upstairs?"

"How hard did you hit your head last night? — Mercy Brown

He'd hung up.
The words end call printed across the screen on my phone confirmed it.
At least a minute later my bedroom door swung open to smack against my knees and Marc stuck his head around the edge to see what he'd hit. He found me still staring at my phone my robe gaping open across one thigh. "You have to push the buttons to make that work " he said his expression completely serious.
"Thanks smart-ass. — Rachel Vincent

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

He has a really consistent routine. He comes in in the morning at around 8:30. He reads five newspapers. He reads The Financial Times, The Washington Post, The New York Times, The Wall Street Journal, and The Omaha World Herald. Then he has a stack of reports on his desk from the companies Berkshire owns, and some trade press like American Banker or oil and gas journals, and through the rest of the day, he alternates between flipping through this stuff and then talking on the phone to people either who call him or who he calls. He never calls his managers; they can call him. He is really accessible, but he leaves them alone.
Then he has CNBC on all day long with the crawl, with the sound muted and if he sees his name cross along the bottom and they are talking about him, he will turn the sound on to find out what they are saying. That is his day. He doesn't do meetings
there are no meetings.
— Alice Schroeder

William: I just had the best idea ever. Let's give Maddox a ring.
Paris: You mean propose to him? To grumpy ole Maddox? Willie, why didn't you tell us you're a masochist, who swung that way? You're so delicate, he'll rip you to shreds the moment you climb into his bed. Plus, he's hitched himself to Ashlyn. You try to lay a move on him, and that sweet thang will rearrange your face.
William: I mean call him, you idiot. What's with you tonight? Permanent brain damage? We'll breath heavily and ask him what he's wearing. I bet no one's phone sexed him before. — Gena Showalter

Anyone who'd stop feeling up or finger banging a woman in favour of taking a fucking phone call is an inconsiderate asshole you shouldn't be opening your legs for."
"I'm seeing that now."
"I'm serious, Lydia."
I studied the tabletop, needing a moment to pull myself together. "How long have we known each other? What, half an hour, an hour?"
"Ah." Turning in his seat, he checked out an old wooden clock on the kitchen wall. "Yeah. about that."
"Are you aware that most people wait a little longer before discussing the rules of etiquette in regards to finger banging? Who they should and shouldn't open their legs for? Things like that."
"That so?"
"It is."
"Well, fuck." He sat back, outright grinning at me. — Kylie Scott

Meanwhile, I was holding on to my composure by sheer force of will. But when we ended the call I was likely going to dismember Greg's favorite boxer briefs and hide his cell phone charger. — Penny Reid

Amy gritted her teeth. "King Louis XVI even put Franklin's picture on a chamber pot!"
Jonah looked at his dad. "Do we have souvenir chamber pots?"
"No." His dad whipped out his phone. "I'll make the call. — Rick Riordan

By the time Seth had finished the phone call he was on when he was notified of Grace's arrival, shrugged back into the jacket he'd removed as a concession to the heat and made his way into the bull pen, Carter's desk was completely surrounded. He heard a low,throaty female laugh rise out of the center of the crowd.
And saw a half dozen of his best men panting like puppies over a meaty bone.
The woman, he decided, was going to be an enormous headache.
I see all cases have been closed this morning, and miraculously crime has come to a halt. — Nora Roberts

Whereas God, for reasons of His own, sometimes chooses to let the machine answer. The Supreme Being is unavailable to come to the phone at this time, but He wants you to know what your call is important to Him. In the meantime, for sins of pride, press one. For avarice, press two ... — Richard Russo

Well ... maybe I can sneak out for a few minutes," Bird said, lowering his voice. And then Greg heard him shout to his mother: "It's no one, Ma! I'm talking to no one!"
Boy, that's quick thinking! Greg thought sarcastically. He's a worse liar than I am.
And then he heard Bird call to his mom: "I know I'm on the phone. But I'm not talking to anyone. It's only Greg."
Thanks a lot, pal, Greg thought. — R.L. Stine

His phone rang just as he set his evidence kit on the ground. He glanced at the display and took the call. "Hey, Mom."
"I ran into Cindy Jenners at the store today."
"No."
"She's such a nice young woman."
"Not interested."
"Your sisters abandoned me."
"They didn't abandon you. They got married."
"They moved to other states. I don't have a single grandchild. within driving distance. How can they be so curel?" She gave a guilt-laden pause. "Mrs. Ottmann said she saw you talking to some blonde with Massachusetts license plates by the feed store yesterday."
Chase closed his eyes and brushed his thumb and forefinger over his eyelids. "I was giving her a speeding ticket... — Dana Marton

I didn't get a phone call from Bill Clinton before I jumped in the race ... maybe it's because I hadn't given money to the foundation or donated to his wife's senate race. — Carly Fiorina

Morgan," I said into the receiver. And if I'd known what was coming I would not have said it so cheerfully. Someone on the other end made a throat-clearing noise, and with a jolt of surprise I recognized it. It was the sound Captain Matthews made when he wanted to call attention to the fact that he was about to make an important pronouncement. But what momentous declaration could he possibly have now, for me, before I even finished one doughnut, and why would he speak it on the phone to a mere forensics wonk? "Ahem, uh, Morgan," the captain said. And then there was silence. "This is Morgan," I said helpfully. "There's a, um," he said, and cleared his throat again. "I have a special assignment. For you. Can you come up to my office? Right now," he said. There was another slight pause, and then, most baffling of all, he added, "Uh. Please." And then he hung up. I — Jeff Lindsay

Here," Trey says, fumbling for his cell phone on the bedside table. "You should call me.
Ben turns and looks at him, a small smile still playing around his lips. "Oh, should I? What's your number?"
Trey tells him, and Ben enters it into is phone, and then he takes Trey's and enters his number. "Okay," Ben says a little cautiously, "well, we'd love to have you come for a meeting. Are you seriously considering U of C? Even after what happened?"
"Oh yeah. I totally am. "What's your name again?"
Ben laughs and tells him.
I frown. Trey knows U of C is a private school. Mucho big bucks. But hey ... there's always the power of morphine to make you forget about the minor details of your life, like living above a restaurant that struggles monthly to pay bills, and considering returning to the place where some lunatic outsider came in and fucking shot you because you're gay. — Lisa McMann

3.
Ella,um,it's Alex. I hope this is the right number.I had to get it from a really old phone book. I would have gotten your cell number from Sadie Winslow, but ... well, every time I got near her today, Frankie Hobbes showed his teeth. He's a little scary for such a skinny guy ... Anyway. You weren't in English today. You weren't anywhere that I could see today.Um ... call me. I was thinking I could come over ... — Melissa Jensen

Where's my cell phone?" I ask. "And please put a shirt on."
He reaches down and grabs my phone off the floor. "Why?"
"The reason I need my cell," I say as I take it from him, "is to call a cab and the reason I want you to put a shirt on is, well, because, urn ... "
"You've never seen a guy with his shirt off?"
"Ha, ha. Very funny. Believe me, you don't have anything I haven't seen before."
"Wanna bet?" he says, then moves his hands to the button on his jeans and pops it open.
Isabel walks in at that exact moment. "Whoa, Alex. Please keep your pants on. — Simone Elkeles

It felt strange to call them directly, to hear her father's "Hello?" after the second ring, and when he heard her voice, he raised his, almost shouting, as he always did with international calls. Her mother liked to take the phone out to the verandah, to make sure the neighbors overheard: "Ifem, how is the weather in America? — Chimamanda Ngozi Adichie

That sounds great, Marcus said, trying to marshal enthusiasm, leading with the expression of a desired sentiment and hoping that the sensation might obediently follow. It was a strategy that he had used for most of his life, and it had failed him innumerable times. He didn't know what it was that tied him to it, what held him fast to this magical idea - even now, after all the pain it had caused recently - that a feeling could be pre- arranged, ordered in advance and then calmly anticipated. One day, surely, it would arrive, like a phone call from a long-absent lover, confiding I miss you, where are you, come home, please, come home. — Panio Gianopoulos

In a gesture of astonishing chutzpah, the North Koreans were submitting a bill of $3,241 for his enforced stay at the Yanggakdo Hotel. They'd even broken the room rate down, with six days at the "tourist season" rate of $75/day, and 36 days at the "ordinary season" rate of $60/day. Plus $591 for meals, $14 for dessert, and $23 for the phone call to Lee. And, as a final insult, there was a $3 fee for "a lost plate." Merrill asked the State Department whether paying might help the other Americans detained in North Korea, and was told no. The bill remains unpaid. — Mike Chinoy

I get back in the Continental and continue down the road to the cafe. Then I pull in and there's Larry Johnson's '57 Ford pickup in the parking lot. As I enter the little cafe, I see Larry and Briggs in the corner, drinking some coffee and having a late breakfast. I go right over and sit down with them. We don't say much. David says something about Kirby getting a job at one of the studios. Kirby is very good with his hands and can fix anything, plus he has a very friendly personality. We are happy for him. Larry has to make a call and gets up, heading for the pay phone in the corner. He has us get him another coffee when the waitress comes back. Briggs looks at me and asks what I've been doing. — Neil Young

I don't want to quit. I've always said that Clint Eastwood is one of my best friends. I've known Clint for many years and we have almost a jokey relationship about retirement. I always say: "OK Clint, are you ready to retire this year?" And he always says: "No, are you?" So, I'm waiting for the phone call where Clint says he's hanging up his spurs. That's never going to happen. If it doesn't happen for Clint, it won't happen for me. — Steven Spielberg

[Jenks]"I think you're all screwy in the head," he said when Bis nodded his encouragement. "But go ahead. I've got Quen's number in my phone. I'll call him if you both explode in a flash of black underwear and money so I won't have to fly all the way home. — Kim Harrison

Long Distance II

Though my mother was already two years dead
Dad kept her slippers warming by the gas,
put hot water bottles her side of the bed
and still went to renew her transport pass.

You couldn't just drop in. You had to phone.
He'd put you off an hour to give him time
to clear away her things and look alone
as though his still raw love were such a crime.

He couldn't risk my blight of disbelief
though sure that very soon he'd hear her key
scrape in the rusted lock and end his grief.
He knew she'd just popped out to get the tea.

I believe life ends with death, and that is all.
You haven't both gone shopping; just the same,
in my new black leather phone book there's your name
and the disconnected number I still call. — Tony Harrison

My pulse was racing, my skin searing, and suddenly I felt light-headed. I sat back and put hands over my mouth. My room looked exactly the same as it had before I'd picked up his call. I threw my phone at the wall. Halfway through its flight, I realized that my father would kill me if I destroyed it, but it smacked the wall and slid to the ground without any pieces falling off it. It looked exactly the same as before. Nothing had changed. Nothing. — Maggie Stiefvater

It occurred to Clark that he should call someone, actually everyone, that he should call everyone he'd ever loved and talk to them and tell them all the things that mattered, but it was apparently already too late for this, his phone displaying a message he'd never seen before: SYSTEM OVERLOAD EMERGENCY CALLS ONLY. — Emily St. John Mandel

When we first split up, he called me a stalker, but that's like an emotive word, "stalker", isn't it? I don't think you can call it stalking when it's just phone calls and letters and emails and knocking on the door. And I only turned up at his work twice. Three times, if you count his Christmas party, which I don't, because he said he was going to take me to that anyway. — Nick Hornby

You've got to be happy if they get your facts right. Since January I don't think I've recognized a damned thing that I've filed. I just pour everything out of the boot. Otherwise you get a phone call at three in the morning asking why you left out that the candidate had his teeth drilled that morning. — John Lindsay

I didn't think he'd go back for him. But it shouldn't surprise me, either, I guess ... given their relationship. I'm extremely curious where they're hiding him, as he doesn't blend. At all. Ever. I can't imagine where they could put him that he wouldn't attract a lot of attention ... in either form." Xev
"Well, aren't we Mr. Dark and Cryptic ... shall we call him?" Nick pulls out his phone.
"I doubt he knows how to work that. I'm sure he'd sniff it and eat it if you gave him one. Do you know where they're keeping him?" Xev
"You know how akri-Caleb's house is up off the ground and gots all that room under it for storage?" Simi
"Oh dear Gods, he's in my wine cellar? Seriously? I'm thinking I should have made amends with my brother sooner and moved him into my house to watch the puca. What kind of mutant life form do I have living in my cellar? And do I need to fumigate my house?"" Caleb — Sherrilyn Kenyon

Ask me again, Tristan read on his cell phone.
Ask what? he sent back.
Why I call you Sparky. Michael fumbled with the keys, not looking up.
Well, sure, why? Tristan sent back.
You light me up, came the answer, and Tristan's nimble fingers stopped on the keys. He stared hard at the small screen on his phone, the text message right there, waiting to see if he would send a reply. He just sat and stared till his phone turned off, unable to look up into the oh-so-blue eyes of the man who had sent it. — Z.A. Maxfield

Leave an extrovert alone for two minutes and he will reach for his cell phone. In contrast, after an hour or two of being socially on, we introverts need to turn off and recharge. My own formula is roughly two hours alone for every hour of socializing. This isn't antisocial. It isn't a sign of depression. It does not call for medication. For introverts, to be alone with our thoughts is as restorative as sleeping, as nourishing as eating. Our motto: I'm okay, you're okay-in small doses. — Jonathan Rauch

Really?" [Catarina] said when he opened the door. " Two years and then you come back and don't even call for two weeks? And then it's 'Come over, I need you'? You didn't even tell me you were home, Magnus."
"I'm home", he said, giving what he considered to be his most winning smile. The smiling took a bit of effort, but hopefully it looked genuine.
"Don't even try that face with me. I am not one of your conquests, Magnus. I am your friend. We are supposed to get pizza, not do the nasty."
"The nasty? But I-"
"Don't." She held up a warning finger. "I mean it. I almost didn't come. But you sounded so pathetic on the phone I had to. — Cassandra Clare

Simon I've been trying to call you, but it seems like your phone is turned off. I don't know where you are right now. I don't know if Clary's already told you what happened tonight. But I have to go to Magnus's and I'd really like you to be there.
I'm scared for my brother. I never ask you for anything, Simon, but I'm asking you now.
Please come.
Isabelle.
Simon let the letter fall from his hand. He was out of the apartment and on his way down the steps before it had even hit the floor. — Cassandra Clare

God made the world for the delight of human beings
if we could see His goodness everywhere, His concern for us, His awareness of our needs: the phone call we've waited for, the ride we are offered, the letter in the mail, just the little things He does for us throughout the day. As we remember and notice His love for us, we just begin to fall in love with Him because He is so busy with us
you just can't resist Him. I believe there's no such thing as luck in life, it's God's love, it's His. — Mother Teresa

All it takes for us to be guilty of theft is one misspent hour at work; one item we "forgot" to return from the office; one personal long-distance phone call we made at the company's expense; one overpriced item in our store. We see our sinless Lord, crucified for thieves not unlike the one hanging next to Him. Here was one person who never took what did not belong to Him, and who fulfilled all His obligations and paid debts He did not owe, and yet He hangs here next to a common thief, bearing His shame and guilt before God as though He had committed the crime. The thief crucified next to our Lord may have experienced the wrath of Rome that dark Friday afternoon, but because of the crucifixion of a Man just feet from him, he would not have to endure the wrath of heaven. All thieves who trust in Christ can expect to hear those same words on their death-bed from the spotless Lamb: "Today you shall be with me in Paradise. — Michael S. Horton

Isaiah said, "I'll need access to Richter's phone for one hour. This is his replacement." "Does it work?" "No. It was impossible for Mark to replicate his contact list, apps, texts, call history. Safer play to swap it for a nonfunctioning phone. It'll power up and display a black screen. What I'm asking isn't easy. I need you to swap his current phone out for this one. Then you're going to have to hand off his phone to my contact at the club. He'll find you, so don't worry about that. Then you have to entertain Richter for an hour while my guy builds the clone. Then you have to switch his real phone back for the fake. — Blake Crouch

A bum woke up in the gutter right beside where I stood looking across the street at this place. He felt in the waist of his pants and came up with a pint bottle, half full. He tipped it up and it gurgled steadily until he'd emptied it all down into him. I was only twenty-four or -five but I already knew from experience how it tasted. And people who've kissed the feet of Christ know how it tasted. I saw everything there in the gutter
the terror and the promise. Later I spent the morning in the smoky Day Labor Division with better than a hundred men who'd learned how not to move, learned how to stay beautifully still and let their lives hurt them, white men with gray faces and black men with yellow eyes. I worked the rest of the week in a factory without ever comprehending exactly what was manufactured there, and at night I'd get drunk and shut myself in a phone booth and call the woman in Minnesota who'd broken my heart. — Denis Johnson

If we do this, it's one time. One night that we never talk about to anyone, and I mean anyone. We never mentioned it again. No pressure. No expectations. No sleeping over or phone call in the morning. This is about sex, pure and simple. Can you handle that?
Veronica's breath hitched as a rich wave of sexual heat assaulted his senses. She was ready for him, her body going pliant in his arms. "You sure do have a lot of rules. — Kristin Miller

The government's rationale here is beautiful in its simplicity. American criminals have constitutional rights not because they are natural-born Americans but precisely because they are criminals. Deportations, however, are not part of the criminal justice system. "Removal proceedings," wrote the circuit judge in the Gutierrez-Berdin case, "are civil, not criminal, and the exclusionary rule does not generally apply to them." So the undocumented alien who kills a room full of Rotarians with an ax has a right to counsel, a phone call, and protection against improper searches. The alien caught crossing the street on his way to work has no rights at all. Strangest — Matt Taibbi

Call down to the desk to ask about the room?" "No phone," Cisco said. "Just watch." Once back on the ground floor, Gloria stepped out of the elevator and went to a house phone that was on a table against the wall. She made a call and soon was speaking to someone. "This is her asking to be connected to the room," Cisco said. "She is told by the operator that there is no Daniel Price registered in the hotel and no one in eight thirty-seven." Gloria hung up the phone, and I could tell by her body language that she was annoyed, frustrated. Her trip had been wasted. She headed back through the lobby, moving at a faster clip than when she had arrived. "Now watch this," Cisco said. Gloria was halfway across the lobby when a man entered the screen thirty feet behind her. He was wearing a fedora and had his — Michael Connelly

Had his room been facing west he would have noted the sparkling twenty-five-mile vista to the sea which looks almost like the Mediterranean. He would have noted how the streets of L.A. undulate over short hills as though a finger is poking the landscape from underneath. How laid over this crosshatch are streets meandering on the diagonal creating a multitude of ways to get from one place to another by traveling along the hypotenuse. These are the avenues of the tryst which enable Acting Student A to travel the eighteen miles across town to Acting Student B's garage apartment in nine minutes flat after a hot-blooded phone call at midnight. Had he been facing seaward on a balcony overlooking the city the writer might have heard drifting out of a tiny apartment window the optimistic voice of a shower singer imbued with the conviction that this is a place where it is possible to be happy. — Steve Martin

Siri!" James screamed at his phone. "Oh my god, Siri, call a damn ambulance!" An icon spun in the middle of the screen as it accessed the internet. "Displaying search results for 'cauliflower ambulance'. — Mikey Neumann

Beauvoir left their home wanting to call his wife and tell her how much he loved her, and then tell her what he believed in, and his fears and hopes and disappointments. To talk about something real and meaningful. He dialed his cell phone and got her. But the words got caught somewhere south of his throat. Instead he told her the weather had cleared, and she told him about the movie she'd rented. Then they both hung up. — Louise Penny

The initial shock isn't as hard as the weeks that follow." He sipped his coffee as Zach lifted his head. "Right now you still think he'll walk through the door. That he'll have something to say. But you know he's gone. Then you'll go through the arrangements, the funeral, and those who will come to pay their respects," he continued. "Then next week you'll pick up the phone to call him and he won't be there. — Bernadette Marie

She turns in the doorway. "Oh, and Galen?"
"Yes, ma'am?"
"Have your mother call me so I can get her number programmed into my phone."
"Yes, ma'am."
"You kids have a good time. I won't be home until late, Emma. But you'll be home by nine, sweetie. Won't she, Galen?"
"Yes, ma'am."
Neither Emma nor Galen say anything until they hear the car pull out of the driveway. Even then, they wait a few more seconds. Emma leans against the fridge. Galen is growing fond of hiding his hands in his pockets.
"So, what did you two chitchat about?" she asks as if uninterested.
"You first."
She shakes her head. "Uh-uh. I don't want to talk about it."
He nods. "Good. Me neither."
For a few seconds, they look at everything in the room but each other. Finally, Galen says, "So, did you want to go change-"
"That idea is fan-flipping-tastic. Be right down." She almost breaks into a run to get to the stairs. — Anna Banks

When a guy says,'I'll call you,' and he doesn't say when-that means he won't call you." Kit pulled his phone out of his pocket and pressed a couple buttons. My phone vibrated in my pocket. I fished it out, smiling. "Madness," Kit whispered softly into his phone. "I meant I'd call you. This is me calling you. — Sarah Rees Brennan

I had played in a tournament with the captain of the University of Minnesota's golf team, and he thought I was good. He called his coach, and the coach called me and recruited me. A five-minute phone call changed my life. — Tom Lehman

Sanchez got the phone call, listened carefully, glanced over at Spencer, in Whittaker's office, having his morning coffee. Hung up the phone, got up, went and knocked on the door, asked if he could see Spencer a moment, and lowering his voice said, "Carl downstairs just called me because someone wants to file a vagrancy report.
Spencer slapped him on the back. "Detective Sanchez, thank you for bringing the particulars of your job description to my attention. Well done. Go to it.
Sanchez hemmed and said, "The young woman says she is Lily Quinn. Specifically asked for me, Carl says.
Spencer didn't slap him on the back this time. He stared at Carl and then said, "All right smart-ass, go back to you desk.
"That's what I thought," said Sanchez. — Paullina Simons

My husband is so confident that when he watches sports on television, he thinks that if he concentrates he can help his team. If the team is in trouble, he coaches the players from our living room, and if they're really in trouble, I have to get off the phone in case they call him. — Rita Rudner

He backed away from me, clutching the phone to his chest. "What?"
"Gimme the phone," I commanded, holding out my hand.
His head dropped solemnly. "I am on a very important call."
"Yes, about me," I said, reaching for it. "Now give it."
He shrank away and eyed the room anxiously. "Damn, I knew I should have kept a spare roll of duct tape somewhere. — Karina Halle

Catcher pulled out his phone,rose,and walked away from the table to make the call.
"I'm going to advise Chuck of our little breakthrough. Good job, Mallocake."
We all looked at Mallory.
"Did he just call you Mallocake ?"
She blushed to the roots of her blue hair, shrugged one shoulder.
"It's a nickname"
It was also my all-time favorite snack food- a log-shaped chocolate cake with a marshmallow center. They were absolutely delectable. And that was kind of adorable, especially for someone like Catcher, who made Eeyore seem like an optimist. — Chloe Neill

Why do all the men I know put their shoes on incredibly slowly? When I tie my shoelaces I can do it standing, and I'm out the door in about ten seconds. (Or, more often, I don't even tie my shoelaces. I slip my feet into my sneakers and tighten the laces in the car.) But with men, if they are putting on any kind of shoe (sneaker, Vans, dress shoe), it will take twenty times as long as when a woman does it. It has come to the point where if I know I'm leaving a house with a man, I can factor in a bathroom visit or a phone call or both, and when I'm done, he'll almost be done tying his shoes. There's a certain meticulousness that I notice with all guys when they put their shoes on. First of all, they sit down. I mean, they need to sit down to do it. Right there, it signals, "I'm going to be here for a while. Let's get settled in." I can put on a pair of hiking boots that have not even been laced yet while talking on my cell phone, without even leaning on a wall. — Mindy Kaling

She said, "Where is Lydia?" "I'm calling you from a comsat phone with a scrambler. Do you know what that is?" "Why the fuck would I know what that is?" "Comsat is an abbreviation for a series of communication satellites," he explained, his voice maddeningly pedantic. "The phone relays calls through geostationary satellites instead of land-based cell towers. The scrambler masks the number and location, which means this call can't be traced, not even by the NSA. — Karin Slaughter

And then suddenly I hear his footsteps approaching. He's behind me, thirty feet away, at a guess.
No wonder I couldn't see him.
I should turn. Right now I should turn. This is the moment that it would be natural to swivel round
and greet him. Call out a hello; wave my phone in the air.
But my feet are rooted to the spot. I can't bring myself to move. Because as soon as I do, it will be
time to be polite and matter-of-fact and back to normal. And I can't bear that. I want to stay here. In
the place where we can say anything to each other. In the magic spell.
Sam pauses, right behind me. There's an unbearable fragile beat as I wait for him to shatter the quiet. But it's as though he feels the same way. He says nothing. All I can hear is the gentle sound
of his breathing. Slowly, his arms wrap round me from behind. I close my eyes and lean back
against his chest, feeling unreal. — Sophie Kinsella

Finally I did call him. His phone rang five times and then went to voice mail. "You've reached the voice mail of Augustus Waters," he said, the clarion voice I'd fallen for. "Leave a message." It beeped. The dead air on the line was so eerie. — John Green

Only as he shut the door behind him, barricading Gwen inside lest she decide to risk bumping into one of his friends to explore, spy or even search for a phone to call the Hunters - she's not working for them, damn it! - did he realize he was about to knowingly pair a Harpy with the goddess of Anarchy. Great. He'd be lucky if his head was still attached in the morning. — Gena Showalter

Hey you ! out there in the cold
Getting lonely, getting old, can you feel me
Hey you ! Standing in the aisles
With itchy feet and fading smiles, can you feel me
Hey you ! don't help them to bury the light
Don't give in without a fight.
Hey you ! out there on your own
sitting naked by the phone would you touch me
Hey you ! with your ear against the wall
Waiting for someone to call out would you touch me
Hey you ! would you help me to carry the stone
Open your heart, I'm coming home
But it was only a fantasy
The wall was too high as you can see
No matter how he tried he could not break free
And the worms ate into his brain.
Hey you ! out there on the road
Always doing what you're told, can you help me
Hey you ! out there beyond the wall
Breaking bottles in the hall, can you help me
Hey you ! don't tell me there's no hope at all
Together we stand, divided we fall. — Pink Floyd

Arf! Arf, arf, arf!"
Oh, Jesus, the Antichrist's barking was going to split open his head.
"Quiet, Tank," Grace said. "Toby, baby, grab him and put him in the laundry room, please. Anna, good, you're back. Get a phone in case we need to call nine-one-one."
"Got it," Anna said, sounding so unusually shaken that Josh did open his eyes. Look at that, Antichrist number two was worried about him. Nice change. — Jill Shalvis

Stunned, I sat down on the bed, reading the message over and over again, convinced I had misunderstood it in some way. I couldn't believe that Jack would have written something so cruel or been so cutting. He had never spoken to me in such a way before, he had never even raised his voice to me. I felt as if I'd been slapped in the face. Surely I deserved some explanation and, at the very least, an apology? I needed to talk to someone, badly, so it was sobering to realise there was no one I could call. My parents and I didn't have the sort of relationship that would allow me to sob down the phone that he had left me by myself and for some reason I felt too ashamed to tell any of my friends. Where had the perfect gentleman I'd thought him to be gone? Had it all been a facade, had he covered his true self with a cloak of geniality and good humour to impress me? — B.A. Paris