Mr Grey Quotes & Sayings

Mr. Grey shuffled his feet. I know what we was told, but it don't feel right, Bistle. I has a sense about these things. Me mam always said so. — G. Norman Lippert

Mr. Grey trailed behind Mr. Saffron, frowning massively and watching the mysterious doors. There were hundreds
maybe thousands
of them along the endless corridor. None had names or markings of any kind. In the lead, Mr. Pink could be heard counting softly under his breath. — G. Norman Lippert

Mr. Graven's servant had arisen, and pulled off his dirty traveling cloak, revealing a suit of fashionable grey. He whipped off his hat, and hurled it into the fire, commenting airily,

"Dashed uncomfortable thing."

Mr. Graven sighed.

"You mustn't burn my perfectly good disguises, McFall."

"Yes, sir. Never again, sir. — Stephen Joshua

Swelter's eyes meet those of his enemy, and never has there held between four globes of gristle so sinister a hell of hatred. Had the flesh, the fibres, and the bones of the chef and those of Mr Flay been conjured away and away down that dark corridor leaving only their four eyes suspended in mid-air outside the Earl's door, then, surely, they must have reddened to the hue of Mars, reddened and smouldered, and at last broken into flame, so intense was their hatred - broken into flame and circled about one another in ever-narrowing gyres and in swifter and yet swifter flight until, merged into one sizzling globe of ire they must surely have fled, the four in one, leaving a trail of blood behind them in the cold grey air of the corridor, until, screaming as they fly beneath innumerable arches and down the endless passageways of Gormenghast, they found their eyeless bodies once again, and reentrenched themselves in startled sockets. — Mervyn Peake

One hundred facets of Mr. Diamonds "The new saga that will make you forget Fifty Shades of Grey! — Various

She sucked in a breath as their gazes clashed and his face altered. She could see the sweat beading the line of his close-cropped dark hair, could feel the heat radiating off his bulky shoulders, and smell the tang of hard work rising from his chest. A work belt clung to his hips. A smattering of hair flecked his gleaming pectorals above the singlet. With his chiselled face, his impressive biceps and long legs, he could have been a pin-up for one of those beefcake calendars. Mr November, with those grey Scorpio eyes watching her every move. — Coleen Kwan

I hate that name," Mr. Grey said, walking toward the dragon's head statue. It was taller than he was, formed eerily from the stalactites and stalagmites of the cavern wall. "I wanted to be Mr. Purple. I like purple. — G. Norman Lippert

Are you hitting on me, Mr. Grey?" I tease, lightly drizzling balsamic vinaigrette on my spinach salad. He giggles. "I scream, you scream ... we all scream for ice cream," he says, licking a chocolate-and-vanilla-swirl ice cream cone. — Fanny Merkin

Is this your idea of a joke?" she whispered as Mr. Jenkins stood to begin that day's lesson. I pulled out my notebook and shook my head. "No joke. My plan is to win you back one physics problem at a time." Connor laughed. "Does this make me Jacob? — R.S. Grey

Out of her pocket and answers it. I didn't hear it ring. "Mr. Grey," she says. Leila and I turn to look at her. Prescott closes her eyes as if in pain. — E.L. James

Taken thus by surprise, it was several moments before she was able to decide whether to make herself known to him, or to await a formal introduction. The strict propriety in which she had been reared urged her to adopt the latter course; then she remembered that she was not a young girl any longer, but a guardian-aunt ... To flinch before what would certainly be an extremely disagreeable interview would be the act, she told herself, of a pudding-heart. Bracing herself resolutely, she got up from the writing-table, and turned, saying, in a cool, pleasant tone: 'Mr Calverleigh?'
He had picked up a newspaper from the table in the centre of the room, and was glancing through it, but he lowered it, and looked enquiringly across at her. His eyes, which were deep-set and of a light grey made the more striking by the swarthiness of his complexion, held an expression of faint surprise; he said: 'Yes? — Georgette Heyer

Of course. Silly me. Such a sad, exciting score, which no doubt you can play? So many accomplishments, Mr. Grey."
"And the greatest one is you, Miss Steele. — E.L. James

News flash, Mr Grey: This isn't 1950 or whatever. Your sexual tastes aren't as shocking or as deviant as you think. — Fanny Merkin

Later in the week Mr Knox's Annie bicycled over to see Stoker and ask her to waive the lien which she had on her sister's services, as they would be required for the weekend.
'She's having dinner at half-past eight on Saturday,' said Annie, when seated with her sister and Stoker in the warm kitchen... Stoker was only too delighted to get a spy into the enemy's camp, and the kitchen had a long, delightful conversation about 'Madam', as Annie called Miss Grey, with a very poor imitation of her accent. — Angela Thirkell

Are you gay, Mr. Grey? — E.L. James

I can't tell jokes.'
'Mr. Grey! Something you can't do?' I grin at him, and he grins back.
'No, hopeless joke teller.' He looks so proud of himself that I start to giggle. — E.L. James

When he awoke it was dawn. Or something like dawn. The light was watery, dim and incomparably sad. Vast, grey, gloomy hills rose up all around them and in between the hills there was a wide expanse of black bog.
Stephen had never seen a landscape so calculated to reduce the onlooker to utter despair in an instant. "This is one of your kingdoms, I suppose, sir?" he said. "My kingdoms?" exclaimed the gentleman in surprize. "Oh, no! This is Scotland! — Susanna Clarke

Mr. Grey will see you in a few minutes. Would you like a refreshment while you wait? Coffee, soda, tea ... ?" "Gravy," I say. — Fanny Merkin

Miss Anastasia Steele is here to see you, Mr. Grey. — E.L. James

I doubt very much if a man whose main literary interests were in works by Mr. Zane Grey, admirable as they may be, is particularly equipped to be the chief executive of this country, particularly where Indian Affairs are concerned. — Dean Acheson

But in reality, with Mr. Ellison there is an essence of probity about him; unlike Dorian Grey, him and his hidden portrait are both wonderful. When he speaks there is a certain intonation he gets that reveals so much about him, that you can't help but to feel rapt, and so few get to hear his unspoken thought because they are fixated on the bling and the big show. — Avra Amar Filion

And the baby?" The words are anguished, breathless.
"The baby's fine, Mr. Grey."
"Oh, thank God." The words are litany ... a prayer, "Oh, thank God. — E.L. James

I looked inside my typewriter. There's a city in there. Black and grey columns and no inhabitants. — Helen Oyeyemi

Are you gay, Mr. Grey?"
He inhales sharply, and I cringe, mortified. Crap. Why didn't I employ some kind of filter before I read this straight out? How can I tell him I'm just reading the questions? Damn Kate and her curiosity!
"No Anastasia, I'm not." He raises his eyebrows, a cool gleam in his eyes. He does not look pleased. — E.L. James

Mr. Grey." I nod at him. Moving with lithe athletic grace to the door, he opens it wide. "Just ensuring you make it through the door, Miss Steele." He gives me a small smile. Obviously, he's referring to my earlier less-than-elegant entry into his office. I blush. — E.L. James

Mr. Grey will see you now, — E.L. James

Christian Grey: [answers phone] Anastasia.
Anastasia Steele: Yeah, this is me. I'm sending back your expensive books because I already have copies of those. Thanks though for the kind gesture.
Christian Grey: You're welcome. Where are you?
Anastasia Steele: Oh, I'm in line because I have to pee really bad.
Christian Grey: Anastasia, have you been drinking?
Anastasia Steele: [laughs] Yeah! I have, Mr. Fancy Pants. You hit ... you hit the hail on the nead. I mean the head right on the nail.
Christian Grey: Listen to me. I want you to go home right now.
Anastasia Steele: You're so bossy! Ana, let's go for a coffee. No, stay away from me Ana! I don't want you! Get away. Come here, come here! Go away! — E.L. James

It stretched off into dim infinity, dotted with floating globes of silvery light. Mr. Grey had been told that the globes were swampfire, encased in a timeloop charm so they were inextinguishable. He'd never even heard of swampfire, much — G. Norman Lippert

Call Audi. I may need the A3 sooner than I thought." "It's ready, Mr. Grey." "Oh. Good. — E.L. James

Mr. Grey will see you now, Miss Steele. Do go through, — E.L. James

Here it comes," she said with an expression of pure bliss. "Drug rush ... any moment now ... the surge of warmth ... bye-bye, Mr. Pain ... "
"Vee-"
"Knock, knock."
"This is really important-"
"Knock, knock."
"It's about Elliot-"
"Knock, knoooock," she said in a singsong voice.
I sighed. "Who's there?"
"Boo."
"Boo who?"
"Boo-hoo, somebody's crying, and it's not me!" She broke into hysterical laughter. — Becca Fitzpatrick

Mr. Grey peeked around the corner and surveyed the corridor. It stretched off into dim infinity, dotted with floating globes of silvery light. Mr. Grey had been told that the globes were swampfire, encased in a timeloop charm so they were inextinguishable. He'd never even heard of swampfire, much less a timeloop charm, but then again, Mr. Grey had never been in a place quite like the Hall of Mysteries. He shuddered. — G. Norman Lippert

Are you smirking at me, Mr. Grey? I ask sweetly. Pompous ass. — E.L. James

Hardly worth the effort, really," he muttered. "It's a homunculus lock. Only opens when a predefined set of factors is present. Could be it only opens when a redheaded lass sings the national anthem of Atlantis at three o'clock on a Thursday. Or when the light of the setting sun is reflected from a cracked mirror onto a goat's eye. Or when Mr. Grey hawks a bogey onto a purple newt. I've seen some good homunculus factors in my time, yar. — G. Norman Lippert

I have always attributed a great importance to eyes. How mysteriously expressive those damp orbs can be; the eyeball does not change and yet it is the window of the soul. And colour in eyes is, in its nature and inherence, quite unlike colour in any other substance. Mr Osmand had grey eyes, but his eyes were hard and speckled like Aberdeen granite, while Tommy's were clear and empty like light smoke. — Iris Murdoch

Mr. Honeyfoot's post-chaise travelled through a world that seemed to contain a much higher proportion of chill grey sky and a much smaller one of solid comfortable earth than was usually the case. — Susanna Clarke

- Come on, Miss Steele, sooner you're in bed, sooner you'll be fucked and sooner you can sleep.
- Mr Grey, you are a born romantic — E.L. James

Perhaps Mr. Grey insists on all his employees being blonde. I'm wondering idly if that's legal. — E.L. James

Page: Don't keep the world on tenterhooks, Tom! Out with it! What's the best thing we can do to ensure a long, happy, healthy future for mankind?
Grey: We can just about restore the balance of the ecology, the biosphere, and so on-in other words we can live within our means instead of on an unrepayable overdraft, as we've been doing for the past half century-if we exterminate the two hundred million most extravagant and wasteful of our species.
Page: Follow that if you can, Mr. President. — John Brunner

We should return to the docks," Miss Grey suggested. "Perhaps they will be waiting there." Sure enough, she was correct - or at least, half correct. Mr. Kent was leaning on a splintery post by the Aurora, shaking his head as we approached.

"It took you three far too long to return here," he said. "Did you not learn that universal tenet as a child? If you ever lose track of your mother, go back to the last place you shared, no other. It's not terribly complicated. — Tarun Shanker