I Am A Mug Quotes & Sayings

You had a package. It was torn, so I looked in." She lifted one of a stack of firefighter calendars, with his own mug and half-naked body on the cover. "Nice," she said, a ghost of a smile crossing her lips. "Mr. 2008." He bit back a sigh. "It's for charity." "And you definitely contributed. — Jill Shalvis

The night in question, I had put aside my perpetual lavatory read, The Decline and Fall of the Roman Empire, because of all the manuscripts (inedible green tomatoes) submitted to Cavendish-Redux, my new stable of champions. I suppose it was about eleven o'clock when I heard my front door being interfered with. Skinhead munchkins mug-or-treating?
Cherry knockers? The wind?
Next thing I knew, the door flew in off its ruddy hinges! I was thinking al-Queda, I was thinking ball lightning, but no. Down the hallway tramped what seemed like an entire rugby team, though the intruders numbered only three. (You'll notice, I am always attacked in threes.) "Timothy," pronounced the gargoyliest, "Cavendish, I presume. Caught with your cacks down."
"My business hours are eleven to two, gentlemen," Bogart would have said, "with a three-hour break for lunch. Kindly leave." All I could do was blurt, "Oy! My door! My ruddy door! — David Mitchell

So you weren't in college."
"I wasn't, no." She takes another sip. "Your father was though. He was visiting for spring break. I mugged him."
"You what?"
"You have to understand I didn't make very much money, even with two jobs. It hardly even paid for my food. I couldn't fish, because-"
"You didn't want anyone to sense you in the water." Otherwise, she could have been pretty self-sufficient.
She nods. "So one day I see this group of cocky college students, spending money left and right. Pulling wads of cash out of their pockets to pay for small purchases, like ice cream." She rolls her eyes. "They were flashing it. They wanted people to know they were rich."
"Doesn't mean they wanted people to mug them," I mutter. — Anna Banks

He was a dastardly fellow," the beer mug continued happily. "Truly repugnant. And smelled! Oh, lad, the stench could knock over an ox! — M.L. LeGette

Thievery is a time-honored profession, my girl. Not to be confused with these hooligans who mug people on the street, or bloodthirsty klutzes who burst into banks, guns blazing. We're discriminating. We're romantic." His voice rose in passion. "We're artists — Nora Roberts

I just ... I understand you might want to start dating more seriously, and that means dating someone from town. But if you're going to do that ... " This time he took a long drink of coffee, and the mug was still at his lips when he said, "I like Daniel. He takes care of you."
I blinked. "Oh my God. Did you really just say that? He takes care of me?"
Dad flushed. "I didn't mean it like-"
"Takes care of me? Did I go to sleep and wake up in the nineteenth century?" I looked down at my jeans and T-shirt. "Ack! I can't go to school like this. Where's my corset? My bonnet? — Kelley Armstrong

What are you doing here?" Dastien stomped over to me, his eyes a bright shade of amber. He was pissed and looking like a crazy-man. "Reading." What was his problem? I lifted my mug and took a sip while he stared. He gave a desperate laugh and sank into the seat across from me. "I haven't felt this out of control in years." He leaned forward, putting his head in his hands. "No. I don't think I was ever this inept." I should've felt bad for him, but I didn't. It reassured me. If — Aileen Erin

Good. "Has Leia talked to you about the wedding?" Luke asked, sipping from his own mug as he leaned against the viewport facing her. "Not yet," Mara said, making a face. "I suppose she's going to want some big blowout High Alderaanian ceremony." Luke grinned. "Wants, probably. Expects, no." "Good," Mara said. "I'd rather have something quiet and private and dignified. Mostly dignified, anyway," she amended. "With New Republic dignitaries on one side and Karrde's smugglers on the other, we'll probably need a weapons check at the door." Luke chuckled. — Timothy Zahn

There is nothing that I, personally, can do, except be there. At my family's suggestion I begin taking my little six-pound electronic typewriter with me so that I can write while Hugh is napping. This helps. For, like most of us, I feel frustrated when a situation arises where I am totally helpless, where there is nothing I can do to make anything better. I can, I hope, help Hugh a little by my presence, by the touch of my hand. But there is nothing specifically for me to do. And I think of a friend who has a coffee mug with the inscription: DON'T JUST DO SOMETHING. STAND THERE. — Madeleine L'Engle

The horror that riveted through me, the absolute terror with a taint of nausea, stunned me speechless for three, maybe four seconds. I put the mug down and made a cross with my fingers, screaming, "Death before decaf!" as Garrett poured himself a cup. The fool. — Darynda Jones

Saiman picked up a coffee mug, stared at it, and hurled it against the wall. It shattered into a dozen pieces. We looked at him.
"Your date appears to be hysterical," Rene told me.
"You think I should slap some man into him? — Ilona Andrews

was the housekeeper of more than just our home. Dr Redfield tried to assure me this wasn't the case, but not even she could convince me I was wrong. I glanced at my watch. We had ten minutes left. Ten minutes in which she'd want me to talk about something it hurt me to revisit. 'Is it possible to live with guilt?' I asked her, finally putting my mug down and clutching the strap of my bag instead. 'Even if every day it threatens to suffocate me? — Kathryn Croft

He took a sip of my father's weak coffee and spit it back into the mug. "This shit's like making love in a canoe."
"Excuse me?"
"It's fucking near water. — David Sedaris

That was rather interesting,' Mercer said as he filled his coffee mug and passed the thermal carafe to John. 'What do you say for dinner? Blessed be the serial killers, or else the devil would have no one to torment. — Lynn Viehl

The brain's habit of literalizing metaphors - the tendency to regard people as having "warmer" personalities when you happen to be holding a mug of coffee, the Bicamerals' use of hand-washing to mitigate feelings of guilt and uncertainty - is also an established neurological fact. — Peter Watts

We need to get past the point where being black and a male means that I am likely to mug you for your wallet, likely to have a minus 15 on my IQ, likely to not go to college and likely to wear my pants below my arse. — John Amaechi

That was close,"he said, helping himself to coffee.
Yeah, you almost opened the door to Morelli."
I wasn't talking about Morelli. I was talking about us."
That too," I said.
Ranger sliced a bagel and looked for the toaster.
It's broken,"I told him.
He truned the boiler on and slid the bagel into the oven.
That's surprisingly domestic for a man of mystery," I said to him.
He looked at me over the rim of his coffee mug. "I like things hot. — Janet Evanovich

However, I will never feel anything again.
Good.
I am done with love.
It's a mug's game.
I am just going to sit in my room for the rest of my life not doing stuff. — Louise Rennison

look here you old, painted hussy! I am neither a tart, a trollop, nor am I a strumpet! I am a lady of refined breeding and culture, so bugger off, before this little poppet pops you one in that ugly, wrinkled mug! — L.T. Suzuki

You'd be doing us both a favor.' 'This drives me bats. You know this drives me bats.' Orin and Hal's term for this routine is Politeness Roulette. This Moms-thing that makes you hate yourself for telling her the truth about any kind of problem because of what the consequences will be for her. It's like to report any sort of need or problem is to mug her. — David Foster Wallace

When the beer came, I dipped a finger in it and wet down each corner of the paper napkin to anchor it, so it would not come up with the mug each time and make me appear ridiculous. I — Charles Portis

What... what are you doing here?"
He's shaking his head as he walks my way; a steaming coffee mug is in his hand.
"What am I doing here? I live here."
"Y-you do? How did I get here?"
He starts to laugh. "You don't remember?"
"No... I really don't."
He places the mug in front of me. "You called me on your cell. I found you spaced out of your mind in an alley behind the bar. You were talking to a cat. You claimed it was your mother. — Greg Logsted

On Ove's side of the track it's empty but for three overdimensioned municipal employees in their midthirties in workmen's trousers and hard hats, standing in a ring and staring down into a hole. Around them is a carelessly erected loop of cordon tape. One of them has a mug of coffee from 7-Eleven; another is eating a banana; the third is trying to poke his cell phone without removing his gloves. It's not going so well. And the hole stays where it is. And still we're surprised when the whole world comes crashing down in a financial crisis, Ove thinks. When people do little more than standing around eating bananas and looking into holes in the ground all day. — Fredrik Backman

September Day sloshed another half cup of coffee into the giant #1-Bitch mug, and glared out the frosty breakfast nook windows. North Texas didn't get snow. That's why she'd moved back home - well, one of several reasons. She shivered, relishing the warmth of the beverage, and toasted the storm with a curse. "Damn false advertising." Her cat Macy meowed agreement. The blizzard drove icy wind through cracks in the antique windows and made the just-in-case candles on the dark countertop sputter. She pulled the fuzzy bathrobe closer around her neck. Normally the kitchen's stained glass spilled peacock-bright color into the kitchen. — Amy Shojai

We have such a long, familiar history with Peter Falk. The minute his mug is on that screen people smile. — Paul Reiser

Ice is most welcome in a cold drink on a hot day.
But in the heart of winter, you want a warm hot mug with your favorite soothing brew to keep the chill away.
When you don't have anything warm at hand, even a memory can be a small substitute.
Remember a searing look of intimate eyes.
Receive the inner fire. — Vera Nazarian

From the moment I put my mom's car in drive, my coffee mug still on the roof, I could tell it was going to be a rough day. The mug, which had been a cute gift from Dylan, went flying off the car and smashed into a million pieces. I gasped as I saw it spinning in the rearview mirror, falling in what seemed like slow motion until it hit the street, splattering my coffee and tiny pieces of porcelain across the road. — Charles Sheehan-Miles

Mug your destiny in an alley and punch it until it gives you what you want"
pg 240 — Catherynne M Valente

Which was your favorite? Living room, or bed, or floor, or bed, or wall, or mirror, or bar, or floor?"

"Shhh," I whisper, lifting my cup to take another, more careful sip of coffee. I smile into my mug. "You're weird."

"I think I need a cast for my penis. — Christina Lauren

I don't have very many little fetishes, but the one I do have is that I like a particular mug to drink out of. It's just a small china cup, and I get very upset if my husband moves it. — Aminatta Forna

The difference between the Parthenon and the World Trade Center, between a French wine glass and a German beer mug, between Bach and John Philip Sousa, between Sophocles and Shakespeare, between a bicycle and a horse, though explicable by historical moment, necessity, and destiny, is before all a difference of imagination. — Guy Davenport

I loved him like I loved walking through summer grass barefoot, like I loved a warm mug in my palms, like I loved driving on a long road as the sun sets in the distance. It was a good, safe, simple sort of friendship - well, at first, anyway. — Matthew Quick

A mug's game in my opinion and tiring on top of that, in the long run. But I lent myself to it with a good enough grace, knowing it was love, for she had told me so. — Samuel Beckett

He watched Carl pouring coffee into a huge mug bearing a photo of a cute corgi, below which was the word Alastair. — K.C. Wells

We didn't know what he did on the weekends. What sort of person showed up on Monday and had no interest in sharing what transpired during the two days of the week when one's real life took place? His weekends were long dark shadows of mystery. In all likelihood, he spent his days off in the office, cultivating his master plan. Mondays we'd come in refreshed and unsuspecting and he would already be there, ready to spring something on us. Maybe he never left. Certainly he never came around with a coffee mug to palaver with us on a Monday morning. We didn't judge him for that, so long as he didn't judge us for our custom of easing into a new workweek. — Joshua Ferris

The real wages of potters are in the daily silent appreciations of each of their customers as they pour the morning tea from their teapot, or drink coffee from their mug, or eat dinner off their plate. To be this involved in the daily lives of people who appreciate and admire your work enough to buy it must bring deep reassurance. It is a kind of immortality you can enjoy while still living.
The same goes for the woodworker. You are part of the community. — Roger Deakin

Demetrious was studying Law on the Open University and was, in all ways, a ray of sunshine into her life: warm and glorious, achingly temporary. He lived just off the high street with his boyfriend Rob, who worked in the City, doing something neither Demi nor Sukie pretended to understand.
"All the cute guys are gay," Sukie had laughed, that first day, holding her coffee mug high to her face to hide her genuine disappointment. Demi had just tilted his head and looked at her playfully, an expression she would get to know well.
"I'm not gay," he had clarified, matter-of-factly.
"Living with a boyfriend called Rob doesn't sound very straight!" Sukie had pointed out.
"Labels!" Demi had scorned, with one of his characteristic and very Greek hand gestures. "I fall in love with the person, not the gender. — Erin Lawless

He raised a brow at another abrupt change in the conversation. "Are you disappointed I couldn't dodge a couple bullets?"
A real smile teased her lips as she lowered her coffee mug. "On the contrary, I'm a sucker for a guy with scars, so for your protection, we should probably stick to the case. — Lisa Kessler

So violent. You want to mug and tase everybody these days."
"I do," Zuzana agreed. "I swear I hate more poeple every day. Everyone annoys me. If I'm like this now, what am I going to be like when I'm old?"
"You'll be the mean old biddy who fires a BB gun at kids from her balcony."
"Nah. BBs just rile 'em up. More like a crossbow. Or a bazooka. — Laini Taylor

My absolute favourite one is " Seize the Day " I did Latin for A level and the same in the original, " Carpe Diem " is now a great T shirt and coffee mug logo. I love it. — Judith Thomas

I've got nothing." Eve swiveled around to him. "Zip. You've got something. What?"
"Apparently, it's not coffee," he said with a glance at his empty mug.
"What am I, a domestic droid?"
"If so, why aren't you wearing your frilly white apron and little white cap, and nothing else?"
She sent him a pained look of sincere bafflement. "Why do men think that kind of getup is sexy?"
"Hmm, let me think. Mostly naked women wearing only symbols of servitude. No, I can't understand it myself."
"Perverts, your entire species. What have you got?"
"Besides a very clear picture of you in my head wearing a frilly white apron and little white cap?"
"Jesus, I'll get the damn coffee if you'll cut it out. — J.D. Robb

You can never prepare yourself enough to see your mug shot and DUI. — Tracey Gold

I have a mug that actually verifies that I'm the world's best dad. That's a mug. That's not me talking. You can't just buy those. — Stephen Colbert

Does he ever eat cotton candy for breakfast?"
He stepped around the counter to face us, lowered his gaze, and took a sip from the black mug in his hands.
"No," I said. "He's very much like the Big Bad Wolf. He eats little girls for breakfast."
He spoke from behind the cup, his voice deep and as smooth as butterscotch. "She's wrong. I eat big girls for breakfast. — Darynda Jones

I have a "carpe diem" mug and, truthfully, at six in the morning the words do not make me want to seize the day. They make me want to slap a dead poet. (Oct. 28th is officially Slap A Dead Poet Day in our Family now) — Joanne Sherman

Martha Stewart showed up at Manhattan FBI Headquarters to have her finger prints taken and pose for a mug shot. Then Martha explained how to get ink off your fingers using seltzer water and lemon juice. — Conan O'Brien