Quotes & Sayings About My Click

The apartment is a laboratory in which we conduct experiments, perform research on each other. We discover Henry hates it when I absentmindedly click my spoon against my teeth while reading the paper at breakfast. We agree that it is okay for me to listen to Joni Mitchell and it is okay for Henry to listen to the Shaggs as long as the other person isn't around. We figure out that Henry should do all the cooking and I should be in charge of laundry and neither of us is willing to vacuum so we hire a cleaning service. — Audrey Niffenegger

Do you often make meals for outlanders, Miss Click?" There was teasing in his tone and in his astonishing eyes. Scarlet, she looked down at her apron, now soiled by three spots of coffee, a bit lost in the richness of his speech. "You've yet tae call me Doctor, which I dinna mind in the least. But it tells me you are questioning my credentials. And those eyes of yours demand I must somehow prove myself, pass a test. Like your faither did when he ran the Shawnee gauntlet." "You read that in the papers, I reckon." "Aye. Is it true?" She nodded. "He carried the scars to his grave." "So he passed the test. Will I? — Laura Frantz

Delaney."
"What?" She stuck her key on the lock, then paused with her hand on the doorknob.
"I lied to you yesterday." She looked over her shoulder, but she couldn't see him.
"When?"
"When I said you could have been anyone. I would know you with my eyes closed." His deep voice carried across the darkness more intimate than a whisper when he added, "I would know you, Delaney." Then the squeak of hinges followed by the click of a dead bolt and Delaney knew he was gone. — Rachel Gibson

I used to joke I was a point-and-click actor. My whole process has been about trusting your instincts and hitting your mark. — Daniel Radcliffe

Thou we know that hearts cant lie
saying those words but i cannot try
even my mouth dont speak
we all know that action is louder than 'click — Iloveyouliketheocean

You think I'm wasting my time, " I accuse his flawless profile. "You think Sammy's dead."
"How could I know that, Cassie?"
"I'm not saying you know that. I'm saying you THINK that."
"Does it matter what I think?"
"No, so shut up."
"I wasn't saying anything. YOU said
"
"Don't ... say ... anything."
"I'm not."
"You just did."
"I'll stop."
"But you're not. You say you will, then you just keep going."
He starts to say something, then shuts his mouth so hard, I hear his teeth click. — Rick Yancey

No I don't think that's possible. I think it ... after 14 years under truth serum had I committed the crime I would have known it. There's got to be something that would ... would click in my mind. I've had photo's of 21 of the victims and I've looked at them all over the years here and I've never recognized anyone of them. — John Wayne Gacy

And when whatever happened in that barn happened, it was a moment I'll never forget. Like a missing key slid into a dusty old lock. Click. My world opened. — Jennifer Walkup

As we look at each other, something inside me is trying to click, trying to fall into place. I feel it in my mind and in my chest, like a puzzle piece you know has to go somewhere so you keep trying to push it in from all different angles. And then, just like that, it fits. So perfect and complete that you can't imagine how it was without it there, even seconds ago. — Kendare Blake

We left about midnight and walked down the hill in silence. the night was muggy, and all around me i felt the same pressure, a sense of time rushing by while it seemed to be standing still. whenever i thought of time in puerto rico, i was reminded of those old magnetic clocks that hung on the walls of my classrooms in high school. every now and then a hand would not move for several minutes
and if i watched it long enough, wondering if it had finally broken down, the sudden click of the hand jumping three for four notches would startle me when it came. — Hunter S. Thompson

I am a really bad traveler, I hate traveling and I hate being late so I figure if I could just click my fingers and be somewhere then that would be great! — Harry Melling

Every now and then, I strike something that just goes click, you know, in my head. As Gertrude Stein used to say, it rings the bell, and I feel, this is great. — James Laughlin

Two weeks later I'm the last one in the locker room to change for gym. The click of heels makes me look up. It's Carmen Sanchez. I don't freak out. Instead, I stand and look right at her.
"He was back in Fairfield, you know," she tells me.
"I know," I say, remembering the hand warmers in my locker. But he left. Like a whisper, he was there and then disappeared.
She looks almost nervous, vulnerable. "You know those giant stuffed-animal prizes at the carnival? The kind practically nobody wins, except the lucky few? I've never won one."
"Yeah. I've never won one, either."
"Alex was my giant prize. I hated you for taking him away," she admits.
I shrug. "Yeah, well, stop hating me. I don't have him, either."
"I don't hate you anymore," she says. "I've moved on."
I swallow and then say, "Me, too."
Carmen chuckles. Then, just as she walks out of the room, I hear her mumble, "Alex sure as hell hasn't."
What's that supposed to mean? — Simone Elkeles

If this policeman began to suspect me, he could call the immigration people. Then one of them would click a button on their computer and mark a check box on my file and I would be deported. I would be dead, but no one would have fired any bullets. I realized, this is why the police do not carry guns. In a civilized country, they kill you with a click. The killing is done far away, at the heart of the kingdom in a building full of computers and coffee cups. — Chris Cleave

First click attribution is akin to giving my first girlfriend 100% of the credit for me marrying my wife. — Avinash Kaushik

Stun me. I mean it. Draw the gun and shoot. I want you to do it, Kendra. Show me what it feels like. I'm looking for more. Show me something I don't know. Stun me to my DNA. Come on, do it. Click the switch. Aim and fire. I want the volts the weapon holds. Do it. Shoot it. Now. — Don DeLillo

He dropped the phone back onto its cradle, began to turn around and felt a sudden ice-cold furrow open up in his side. Strength drained from his legs, and a moment later he sank to his knees. There was warmth now that ran over the initial and persistent cold.
Mohammed was confused, and barely noticed the briefcase being removed from his grip. He heard the click of a cell phone opening, and a soft beeping as a number was dialed.
'The package is in my possession,' a female voice said, and the phone clicked shut. — R.D. Ronald

My eyes flipped open at exactly six A.M. This was no avian fluttering of the lashes, no gentle blink toward consciousness. The awakening was mechanical. A spooky ventriloquist-dummy click of the lids: The world is black and then, showtime! 6-0-0 the clock said -in my face, first thing I saw. 6-0-0. It felt different. I rarely woke at such a rounded time. I was a man of jagged risings: 8:43, 11:51, 9:26. My life was alarmless. — Gillian Flynn

My dad wouldn't even start the car until he heard the click of every seat belt. — Drew Lachey

Click.
The salamander flared, etching the room with searing white light and dark shadows.
Otto screamed. He fell to the floor, clutching at his throat. He sprang to his feet, goggle-eyed and gasping, and staggered, knock-kneed and wobbly-legged, the length of the room and back again. He sank down behind a desk , scattering paperwork with a wildly flailing hand.
"Aarghaarghaaaargh ... "
There was a shocked silence.
Otto stood up, adjusted his cravat, and dusted himself off. Only then did he look up at the row of shocked faces.
"Vel?" he said sternly. "Vat are you all looking at? It is just a normal reaction, zat is all. I am vorking on it. Light in all its forms is mine passion. Light is my canvas, shadows are my brush."
But strong light hurts you!" said Sacharissa. "It hurts vampires!"
"Yes. It iss a bit of a bugger, but zere you go. — Terry Pratchett

Trent grinned and winked at him. Just a heel click of my ruby slippers away, baby. — N.R. Walker

With the mere click of a mouse, I can be put in my place but good via Facebook, Twitter, Instagram, Tumblr, Pinterest, or Google+, just to name a few. (But not MySpace, which has been a ghost town since 2008. I hope Tom's okay.) — Jen Lancaster

The phone rang. I picked it up.
"Are you sitting down?" Curran's voice asked.
"Yes."
"Good."
Click.
I listened to the disconnect signal. If he wanted me to sit, then I'd stand. I got up. The chair got up with me and I ended up bent over my desk, with the chair stuck to my butt. I grabbed the edge of the chair and tried to pull it off.
It remained stuck.
I would murder him. Slowly. And I'd enjoy every second of it. — Ilona Andrews

So I'm biding my time, like a surfer waiting for a wave. I'm pretty good at surfing, as it happens, and I know the wave will come. When the moment is right, I'll get Demeter's attention. She'll look at my stuff, everything will click, and I'll start riding my life. Not paddling, paddling, paddling, like I am right now. — Sophie Kinsella

Night and day a picture of the showcase of the Lame Novelty Company and its gambling content would seem to appear before my eyes. Then I realized that I could not rest content and continue practising to become a magician until I knew what those gambling gimmicks in that showcase click. — John Scarne

I hate click tracks. I'm to busy in the click track to feel my own heart rhythm, my own soul beat. — Ringo Starr

I wanted to get more serialized. I had this idea for an event that would click onto everybody's mortality. I said, "I want somebody to die." Fortunately for me, when I was toying with that idea, John Landgraf, who's the head of FX but also a very smart executive, came up with the idea of the ashes in the maracas. He called me up and said, "Listen, what about this, they get the ashes in a box and when they get them, they shake them and they sound like maracas." And I was like, "Okay, now I've got my throughline." — Denis Leary

Beside Mama, in my own folding chair, with my feet sticking out in front of me, I thought about my own innards. Just a few months before I'd had no idea whether my reproductive equipment worked. There was no evidence. But that week I had become a full-fledged bleeder and was still absorbed by this first change in myself that I had ever noticed. The click and buzz of my synapses kept making the same connection. If you can change, you can also end. Death had always been a theory to me. Now I knew. The terror hurt good and I nursed it and played it like a loose tooth. — Katherine Dunn

The thing that was most interesting to me was getting my first prints back from the printer and realizing photography doesn't end with the click of a button, it starts there. Printing is so exciting. — Bryan Adams

derelict. my voice cracked and yolk poured out. wind chimes rigid, no breeze, no song. my wings found hidden in your suitcase. pleas for help mistaken for a swan song. i'm stuffing pages from my journal down my throat as kindling. hoping the smoke will get the taste of you out of my mouth. he looks at me from across the room and all i want is to push him against the wall. ravage. ravage. carnage has never been more vogue. is it still art if it doesn't bring you to your knees? lover, let me prey at your altar. let me bare my fangs in praise. don't i look so pretty in a funeral shroud? i keep time with the click of my creaking bones. dance with me under the milky translucence of a world suffocating. how did you find me? i buried myself beneath the cicadas. is a girl trapped in glass still a prize?
let me get under your skin. i want to know what your fears taste like. i want to consume. — Taylor Rhodes

After we've been dancing awhile and need a breather, we walk off the dance floor. I whip out my cell and say, "Pose for me."
The first picture I take is of him trying to pose like a cool bad boy. It makes me laugh. I take another one before he can strike a pose this time.
"Let's take one of the both of us," he says, pulling me close. I press my cheek against his while he takes my cell and puts it as far away as he can reach, then freezes this perfect moment with a click. After the picture is taken, he pulls me into his arms and kisses me. — Simone Elkeles

My whole thing is, haters are gonna hate, but haters are also going to click on your YouTube video just to watch it, so I don't really care. You helped me break the record. Even if you were watching just to hate on me, and now I hold the record, so I win. — Miley Cyrus

My heels click on the tile floor, and I feel like a velociraptor. — Lily Paradis

Here's something I still can't get over. Amazes and thrills me every time. I'm sitting here and want a certain book. So I search, click, and then I have the book. Every time, my heart does a little leap of joy. What a beautiful world the market is making. — Jeffrey Tucker

In the words of Jeff Hammerbacher, a former manager at Facebook and the founder of Cloudera, "The best minds of my generation are thinking about how to make people click ads. That sucks. — Golden Krishna

My breathing begins to slow. The tension in my muscles starts to relax.
Then, a click in the headphones. A slow breath of air.
I open my eyes to bright moonlight.
And Hannah, with warmth.
Thank you. — Jay Asher

I admitted it to myself.
I had all kinds of dreams. I wanted to go skiing again and get fast and good. I wanted to go to London too someday. I wanted to fall in love.i wanted to own a bookstore or a restraunt and have people come in and say, "Hi, Cedar," and I wanted from ride a bike down the streets in a little town in a country where people spoke a different language. Maybe my bike would a basket and maybe the basket would have flowers in it. I wanted to live in a big city and wear lipstick and my hair in bun and buy groceries and carry them home in a paper bag. My high heels would click when I climbed the stairs to my apartment. I wanted to stand at the edge of a lake and listen. — Ally Condie

Nothing really says ... interactivity - which was so exciting and captures the real, the Web Zeitgeist of 1995 - than 'Click here for a picture of my dog.' — Steven Johnson

Big Daddy: What makes you so restless, have you got ants in your britches?
Brick: Yes, sir ...
Big Daddy: Why?
Brick: - Something - Hasn't - Happened ...
Big Daddy: Yeah? What is that?
Brick [sadly]: - the click ...
Big Daddy: Did you say the click?
Brick: Yes, click.
Big Daddy: What click?
Brick: A click that I get in my head that makes me peaceful
Big Daddy: I sure in hell don't know what you're talking about, but it disturbs me.
Brick: It's just a mechanical thing.
Big Daddy: What is a mechanical thing?
Brick: This click that I get in my head that makes me peaceful. I got to drink till I get it. — Tennessee Williams

As soon as I look up, his eyes click onto my face. The breath whooshes out of my body and everything freezes for a second, as though I'm looking at him through my camera lens, zoomed in all the way, the world pausing for that tiny span of time between the opening and closing of the shutter. — Lauren Oliver

The best minds of my generation are thinking about how to make people click ads, — Ashlee Vance

Jerusalem - a divided city, where demonstrations for and against various issues occur regularly. One day, during an Orthodox demonstration against autopsies, I happened to click a few frames while a young man pushed his hamsa (spread hand) into my camera, which is seen by some as 'the evil eye.' As it happened, it was the tail end of my roll of film and the image is actually a double exposure. This taught me that in spite of your careful framing, chance occurrences create the most interesting images. — Micha Bar-Am

When painting portraits a lot of people say, 'Why not get a photograph of the person?' Photography is wonderful and it is an art form in itself, but ... my portrait is a culmination of elements ... a truer image of a person than just the 'click' of a snapshot. — Jamie Wyeth

Through the years the swirl of a pen, click of a key, and the idea of a story have been my deepest passion. I never just decided to become a writer. I was born to be a writer. I knew it from childhood. — Sai Marie Johnson

The click of the seat belt securing into the buckle is the only sound to break the awkward silence. I feel his warm breath on my neck as he reaches and I take a deep nervous inhale. His scent fills my nose, it is clean and warm, just like in the coffee shop. The smell of his skin is delicious. I try to stop these thoughts, but they are invading my brain in a way that has never happened to me before. Not even with ... Rick. I try push him back out of my mind at this moment because I feel a sense of guilt. Rick and I are frozen. That's the only way I can describe us. He is faithful, he is steady, he is nice, but he is not like this man in front of me: new, mysterious, and unpredictable. Rick and I are in a state of comfort, but like much of my life, I am becoming more and more discontent with comfort. — Nina G. Jones

Well, I would tell Danny. I'd probably edit for Josh. That is if there was
anything worth editing.
"Joshua Roberts, you had better get your butt on the move!" Danny
hollered as he walked down the stairs.
I was nervously waiting for them to leave as I pretended to watch TV in
the front room.
"We're going to be late."
"So the hair crisis is under control I see."
"A stray hair will never win between a bottle of gel and a gay man," he
declared with a smile. "Joshua!"
"I'm coming. I'm coming."
I heard his sandals click on the stairs and I waited to see if the mental
image matched the real one. To my non surprise it did. — Kaitlin Scott

I would much rather have 1,000 visitors click over to my website via a podcast interview that I've done on someone else's website than have 1,000 search result visitors from Google. Anyday. — Chris Ducker

Love, as I see it, is a series of actions. If I ever got remarried-impossible-but if I ever did and my husband never said the words "I love you," but he showed me every day that he did, I would click my heels every morning and be eternally grateful for my good fortune. — Cathy Lamb

Winning 'Best Vlogger of 2013' from MTV is a really wonderful honor, and I wanted to thank all of you out there that used your fingers and clicked a button and made this happen, and to all of you that accidentally clicked my name and you were trying to click Jack and Finn, I'm sorry. — Grace Helbig

I wait for the next opportunity to have something to do with food. If I get rested, my mind just starts creating new dishes - click, click, click. — Paul Prudhomme

You heard me, Laila. He broke up with Meri, and now, wants me back. I told him to go fuck himself."
She smiles at me with pride. "That's my bitch." We click our bottles and swig a large mouthful. — Dora Sky

If I had known, would I have gone back sooner? If there was an audible reshuffle and click every time my path was altered, some Jumanji-like close-up of a game piece slotting into place, would it have changed our fate? It could have been that moment or a million before it; I'll never know. — Vikki Wakefield

Turn to my left and see a young couple walking along the sidewalk. Seattle's Alki Beach is pretty much deserted, aside from a few die-hards, or early morning insomniacs, like me. The young couple are walking away from me, hand in hand, smiling at each other, and I point my lens at them and click. I zoom in on their sneaker-clad feet and locked hands and shoot some more, my photographer's eye appreciating their intimate moment on the beach. I inhale the salty air and stare out at the sound once again as a red-sailed boat gently glides out on the water. The early morning sunshine is — Kristen Proby

I see it all through the lens of my camera - the flurry of movement, the venue staff in black T-shirts, giving orders into their headsets. As I take it all in, my mind weighs the texture, the composition, the possibility of each changing scene, and I struggle to hold back, to keep my finger from pressing too soon. That's my biggest flaw as a photographer. I'm impatient - trigger-happy. I want the shot now, now, now, click, click, click, and if I could just wait a second more, the moment would really flourish. — Emery Lord

I wished there was some kind of switch on my brain. That I could turn it off in the same way that I could turn off the television. Just click it off and immediately empty my mind of all these images and worrying thoughts. And simply leave a blank screen. Or if I could just remove my head and put it on the bedside table and forget about it until morning. And then attach it again when I needed it. — Marian Keyes

My husband and I click wedding rings sometimes and say, 'By the power of the Castle of Greyskull!' — Tamora Pierce

Weren't things that blazed dully past. They were long, intimate straggles of weeds and clumps of dirt, blades of grass and flowers that bent in the wind, trees that lumbered and screeched. They were the sound of my breath and my feet hitting the trail one step at a time and the click of my ski pole. The PCT had taught me what a mile was. I was humble before each and every one. — Cheryl Strayed

To the NAR!'
'To freedom!' Jack Chimes in.
Max and I pick up our mugs and click them against everyone else's without looking at each other. I'm afraid that if I do catch his eye, I'll see my own horror at what we're getting ourselves into reflected there, and that the smile on my face will drop off and shatter like glass. — Emma Pass

The juice. All I'm asking is that you keep it away from this gossip woman, because if that story runs tomorrow and Ellen sees it - There's a click on my phone. — Brad Meltzer

I'm driving home to change," Win said. "Then I'm dining at Merion." Mainliners never ate; they dined. "Care to join me?" "Sounds good," Myron said. "Wait a second." "What?" "Are you properly attired?" "I don't clash," Myron said. "Will they still let me in?" "My, my, that was very funny, Myron. I must write that one down. As soon as I stop laughing, I plan on locating a pen. However, I am so filled with mirth that I may wrap my precious Jag around an upcoming telephone pole. Alas, at least I will die with jocularity in my heart." Win. "We have a case," Myron said. Silence. Win made this so easy. "I'll tell you about it at dinner." "Until then," Win said, "it'll be all I can do to douse my mounting excitement and anticipation with a snifter of cognac." Click. Gotta love that Win. Myron hadn't driven a mile when the cellular phone rang. Myron switched it on. It was Bucky. "The kidnapper called again. — Harlan Coben

The interrogator droid hovers. A small panel along its bottom slides open with a whir and a click. An extensor arm unfolds - an arm that ends in a pair of cruel-looking pincers. So precise and so sharp they look like they could pluck a man's eye clean from his head. (A performance this droid has likely performed once upon a time.) The arm reaches down toward its target. It grabs the ten-sided die, lifts it, drops it. The die clatters. Face up: a 7. The droid exclaims in a loud, digitized monotone: "AH. I AM AFFORDED THE CHANCE TO PROCURE A NEW RESOURCE. I WILL BUY A SPICE LANE. THAT CONNECTS TO MY FOUR OTHER SPICE LANES. THAT GIVES ME FIVE TOTAL, WHICH GRANTS ME ONE VICTORY POINT. I AM NOW WINNING. THE SCORE IS SIX TO FIVE." Temmin's lips — Chuck Wendig

I also like to use a sensational headline. Many people read blogs in aggregators, which generally show only the headline. So you have to give people a reason to click through. Blogs need to be real and personal. Reading it should be like hanging out with you. I play music for my readers. I show them videos I like. I tell them what I did over the weekend. And I tell them what is happening in the technology, Internet, and VC markets. — Fred Wilson

These shoes look like they're straight out of 'The Wizard of Oz,' but since I'm like the tornado that blew you into Oz, I guess you can wear Dorothy's red slippers. And if I'm gone and seem lost, maybe you can do a little click and I'll find my way home. — Portia Moore

It makes me happy that people recognise me and want to click pictures with me. But sometimes, I want to be a common person. I want to go to a coffee shop and just chill. I miss driving my car with the windows rolled down. — Sonam Kapoor

At the end of the day, people have the right to have opinions. I have the right to have an opinion. And I have the right to say what I want on my music 'cause it's my music. If you don't like it, don't click on it, don't download it. — Tyga

I don't know ... we seemed to click right away, you know? And he's so kind but determined to protect you and me both, and well, he's nice to look at. Even with the "scar. It's kind of sexy."
I chuckled. "Do you know how that scar got there?"
She giggled. "Yeah. He told me Tristan gave it to him. But it sounded like he deserved it. Jax can be ... well, he's Jax. But I think I love him."
"I'm sure the accent has nothing to do with it." She seemed to have a thing for those.
"Oh, my God. You should hear him talk dirty with that accent of his!"
I clapped my hand over my "mouth to cover a laugh. "I don't want to know that!"
"Yes, you do. Doesn't Tristan ever talk dirty to you in all those different languages he knows?"
Hmm ... funny how I'd never thought about it. He was holding out on me! That would have to change. Next time, I swore I'd make him do it. Whenever next time might be ... — Kristie Cook

With one Like I can say hi to a friend, support them during a crisis, share in a joke, make someone happy, or reinforce a person's self esteem. I make myself part of their world. It's like I stopped by for coffee. But, by Liking, I can also avoid talking to all the people I don't want to waste time on. Or I can check to see what my ex-girlfriend is doing seven or eight times an hour. It's a double-edged mouse click. — Bart Hopkins

I do read licenses, and they aggravate me, but a computer isn't much good without software. When I need a product, I hold my nose and click 'agree.' — Barton Gellman

As long as they're making beloved books into movies, people are going to be like, 'That's not my mental image of them.' It takes that moment for it to click and become their mental image. — Cassandra Clare

The View from Europe And that was Africa: the long line to the south little higher than the Atlantic that defined it. The sea rolled its drums on the shore, broke in white foam, flowers for the hair of the girls. I sipped the wind with my nostrils, and the smell was the smell of fear. Two million- year-old skulls surfaced from soil fathoms, grinning their disdain at the accuracy of the new weapons. And that was Eden indeed: Adam was black and the woman, Eve, was black; and the serpent, master of the click languages, spoke to them sibilantly of how the machine would sound as it waited under the tree of death, offering them nothing but a pretence of life. 1988 — R.S. Thomas

when I took that first deep breath and saw the clear summer sky, and heard my sister and Little Jimmy and Nora and even Sally and JT cheering for me, I swear I heard the lions roar. Click — Kristin Levine

There's an actual physiological thing that happens to me on tour. There's that moment where I sit in my seat and click the seatbelt, and five seconds later I fall asleep. — Ira Kaplan

My lips are like camera for her, whenever I click her with my lips, she smiles. — Himanshu Chhabra

I seldom think when I take a picture. My eyes and fingers react - click. But first, it's most important to decide on the angle at which your photograph is to be taken. — Alfred Eisenstaedt

His lips froze, and I could almost hear the click in his head as he put together my words and my actions. He — Stephenie Meyer

I am thrilled with my fan base. For some reason some of them are quite young, so they are quite frightened. I remember when I did 'Click' and I'd see Adam Sandler's fan base. He's the guy that people feel that he's their best friend, so he's walking down the street and people sort of high five him and want to tell him a joke or invite him to come home and have a sandwich with them. Mine are not like that. Mine tend to go: 'Argh,' and look horrified. They shake and take a picture from a really long way away. I do feel I've got quite good, respectful ones though. — Colin Farrell

Alex!" Brittany yells my name from the front of the gallery.
I'm still smoking and trying to forget that she brought me here because I'm her dirty little secret. I don't want to be a fucking secret anymore.
My pseudo-girlfriend crosses the street. Her designer shoes click on the pavement, reminding me she's a class above. She eyes Mandy and me, the two blue collars, smoking together.
"Mandy here was about to show me her tattoos," I tell Brittany to piss her off.
"I'll bet she was. Were you going to show her yours, too?" She eyes me accusingly.
"I'm not into drama," Mandy says. She throws down her cigarette and smashes it with the tip of her gym shoe. "Good luck, you two. God knows you need it. — Simone Elkeles

With a click, my novel would be born; it would come out into the light suddenly transformed from the hypothetical text composed in my imagination into finished, tangible thing with a real and independent existence. The moment of clicking on the print button always gave rise to strange and powerful ambivalence
a combination of self-satisfaction, gloom and anxiety. Self-satisfaction for having finished writing the book. Gloom because taking my leave of the characters has the same effect on me as when a group of friends have to depart. And anxiety, perhaps because I am on the verge of delivering up into other people's hands something that I treasure. — Alaa Al Aswany

I've got my dick buried inches deep in a mewling woman's cunt when I first become aware of the click of my front door. I pull out and grab a handful of bedsheets, toss them over to her, and she moans in protest over being without my dick anymore.
"Cover up, sugar, you have three seconds ... "
Two.
One. — Katy Evans

My memory is coming back. It is curious how it comes. Each day, a rush of pieces, loosely connected, unimportant bits, snake through me. They click, click, click into my brain, like links being snapped together. And then they are done. A small chain of memories that fill in one tiny part of my life. They come out of nowhere, and most are not important. — Mary E. Pearson

I have this fantasy. I'm walking past a bookshop and I click my fingers and all my books go blank. So I can start again and get it right. — John Banville

Different ideas will capture my imagination and ask if they can be in a story. Sometimes they fit together and sometimes they don't. One notion leads to another and I might write pages that will have to go away later, but I'm sketching, getting to know a character, how he or she speaks or lives, so I just let it flow. Things start to click. I don't outline before starting, nor do I write one chapter at a time or even in chronological order. If I'm thinking about a scene, conversation, or event that will come later, I page down and write away. — Lisa Preston

I never see my movies. When they're on television, I click them away. Hollywood created an image, and I long ago reconciled myself with it. I was the French cliche. — Louis Jourdan

I notice that I have to pay careful attention in order to listen to others with an openness that allows them to be as they are, or as they think themselves to be. The shutters of my mind habitually flip open and click shut, and these little snaps form into patterns I arrange for myself. The opposite of this inattention is love, is the honoring of others in a way that grants them the grace of their own autonomy and allows mutual discovery. — Anne Truitt

My marriage to Jamie had been for me like the turning of a great key, each small turn setting in the intricate fall of tumblers within me. Bree had been able to turn that key as well, edging closer to the unlocking of the door of myself. But the final turn of the lock was frozen
until I had walked into the print shop in Edinburgh, and the mechanism had sprung free with a final, decisive click. — Diana Gabaldon

Her breasts were good, her thighs were terrific. When she shook hands with me, I felt something click down back of my solar plexus. — Robert B. Parker

I create a folder called 'Daily' on my browser bar and I saved all the websites that I visit in the morning inside this folder. Every morning, I will then right click this folder and select Open All Bookmarks. — K.C. Tan

I'm sorry if I seem to digress, but that is precisely what I was thinking at the moment. It's the way my mind works. Things are not the same in real life as they are in, for instance, the fictional world of Sherlock Holmes. Brains, in reality, do not go clickety-clickety-clickety-click from A to B to C to D and so forth, rushing like a train along the rails, until at the end, with a happy "Toot-toot!" they arrive at their destination, Z, and the case is suddenly solved. Quite the contrary. In reality, analytical minds such as my own are forever shooting wildly off in all directions simultaneously. It's like joyously hitting jelly with a sledgehammer; like exploding galaxies; like a display of fireworks in which the pyrotechnic engineer has had a bit too much to drink and set off the whole conglobulation all at once, by accident. — Alan Bradley

Somewhere at the back of my head I heard a click, tiny and irrevocable. Memory magnifies it to a wrenching, echoing crack, but the truth is that it was the very smallness that made it so terrible. — Tana French

Monday ushers in a particularly impressive clientele of red-eyed people properly pressed into dry-cleaned suits in neutral tones. They leave their equally well-buttoned children idling in SUVs while dashing to grab double-Americanos and foamy sweet lattes, before click-clacking hasty escapes in ass-sculpting heels and polished loafers with bowl-shaped haircuts that age every face to 40. My imagination speed evolves their unfortunate offspring from car seat-strapped oxygen-starved fast-blooming locusts, to the knuckle-drag harried downtown troglodytes they'll inevitably become. One by one I capture their flat-formed heads between index finger and thumb for a little crush-crush-crushing, ever aware that if I'm lucky one day their charitable contributions will fund my frown-faced found art project to baffle someone's hallway. — Amanda Sledz

Do you hear that?" he says.
"You mean the crashing thunder and pounding rain?"
He shakes his head. I listen closely, trying to filter o
ut the sounds of the storm.
Then I hear it. A whooshing sound with a fast buzzing underne
ath it. It's so, so familiar
but I can't quite put my finger on it. A very definite blac
k spot appears among the dark gray
clouds. The spot lengthens horizontally.
The puzzle pieces click into place and I get the full pictur
e: Fighter jet. Headed straight
for us. It could be a coincidence, right? F-22 Raptors fly
low through giant thunderstorms over
major metropolitan areas in the middle of the night a
ll the time. Right.
My illusions of a coincidence are shattered - by a mis
sile flying straight at me. It would
seem this guy has infrared, too. I mean, missiles? Really?
Isn't that a bit overkill? I start flying
away, but Sani stops me.
"Dive! — Sarah Nicolas

I am the law." "Apparently. Heil." I click my heels together and salute. — Karen Marie Moning

I have read that the Builders made toys that could play chess. Toys, as small as the silver bishop in my hand, that could defeat any player, taking no time to select moves that undid even the best minds amongst their makers. The bishop made a satisfying click when tapped to the board. I beat out a little rhythm, wondering if any point remained in playing a game that toys could own. If we couldn't find a better game then perhaps the mechanical minds the Builders left behind would always win. — Mark Lawrence

I close the door and click the lock. My stomach sinks. I know I'm in for the fight of my life.
She is bait. If ever I've seen bait, she is it. — Tara Brown

My first record was made in Termonfeckin, which is a small town on the north-east coast of Ireland. I had been in London, but it didn't click. So, at home, I didn't think about making something, just whether something could be made. There was no grand plan. — James Vincent McMorrow

I don't want it!" I finally type. Then, turning the volume as loud as it will go, I add, "You deserve it!"
Still laughing, I click on the power to my chair, do a smooth turn, and roll myself out of the classroom. — Sharon M. Draper

Chocolate. I hope you enjoyed the story. Click here and start reading my next book today! Behind the scenes with Lyndsey Growing, and of course eating, fresh picked strawberries is one of my all-time favorites. The nice thing about growing your own strawberries is that if you plant ever-bearing varieties in the spring, you could be harvesting your own juicy delicious fruit later in the summer. With the June-bearing varieties, — Lyndsey Cole

In case you haven't heard, my girlfriends and I have declared the summer of 2012 as the best summer ever. The best way to document said 'best summer ever' is with a good ol' disposable camera. Smile, click, move on! Nobody gets pic approval, and there's no time wasted gathering around the camera to analyze a moment that just happened. — Candice Accola

I helped Master Crawford, the watchmaker, now that his sight had gone and faded to a thin pinpoint of light. That were my favorite time. I loved the beauty of all them parts working perfectly together, a little world that could be put to rights with the click of gears, like time itself answered to your fingers. There is a beauty to the way things work. Remove one part, add another, you've changed the mechanism — Kelly Link

History shows us a lot of things. It shows why the Lord's Prayer includes the supplication: "And lead us not into temptation." In my day, dissertations were still written by hand, or drummed out with a typewriter. In the past, you had to round up the literature, find the books and find the passages. Nowadays you click on Wikipedia or Google and you have everything you need. This probably makes it more difficult to resist temptation. — Wolfgang Schauble