Quotes & Sayings About My Plastic Friends

We need women friends, women who challenge us. I have chosen not to have any more plastic surgery. Sally Field and I have kind of made a pact about that. It's really hard, especially if you're a public person. But I want to give a face to aging. — Jane Fonda

Its funny how we can go from good friends for months to strangers for years and best friends for hours. Plastic world, realistic people. — Lik Hock Yap

That's sad. How plastic and artificial life has become. It gets harder and harder to find something ... real." Nin interlocked his fingers, and stretched out his arms. "Real love, real friends, real body parts ... — Jess C. Scott

My biggest hobby is airsoft, which is similar to paintball. Essentially, it's military simulation, but the guns shoot plastic BBs. My friends and I go out in the woods or the desert and play all day long! — Nathan Kress

I learned a long time ago that most of my family and friends had plastic hearts. Plastic hearts are made so they cannot be broken. Cracked maybe, but never broken. — Lisa De Jong

When you are a screwed up person, you have a responsibility to keep your normal friends from getting walked on. 'Cos, how bad could you screw that up ? And don't say, Well, you could cause someone six months of physical therapy. 'Cos, hey, lots of times, those exercise take places in pools and nylon tents with little plastic balls. Fun places like that. And, she gets to park up really close for a while. Ha ha, oh, I'm the bad guy. — Christopher Titus

Early on I saw the plastic quality in colored people and had friends among them; and later was to work from colored models and friends, including Paul Robeson, whose splendid head I worked from in New York. I tried to draw Chinamen in their quarter, but the Chinese did not like being drawn and would immediately disappear when they spotted me. — Jacob Epstein

It was becoming more and more evident that Salem was a town that celebrated individuality, a real live-and-let-live kind of place. Melody felt a gut punch of regret. Her old nose would have fit in here.
"Look!" She pointed at the multicolored car whizzing by. Its black door were from a Mercedes coupe, the white hood from a BMW; the silver trunk was Jaguar, the red convertible top was Lexus, the whitewall tires were Bentley, the sound system was Bose, and the music was classical. A hood ornament from each model dangled from the rear view mirror. Its license plate appropriately read MUTT.
"That car looks like a moving Benton ad."
"Or a pileup on Rodeo drive." Candace snapped a picture with her iPhone and e-mailed to her friends back home. They responded instantly with a shot of what they were doing. It must have involved the mall because Candace picked up her pace and began asking anyone under the age of fifty where the cool people hung out. — Lisi Harrison

How is it that you have friends, Noah?"
"I ask myself that daily" He chomped down on the plastic straw.
"Seriously. Inquiring minds want to know."
Noah's brow creased, but he stared straight ahead. "I guess I don't."
"Could've fooled me."
"Wouldn't be difficult."
That stung. "Go to hell," I said quietly.
"Already there," Noah said calmly, pulling out the straw from his mouth and chucking it to the floor. — Michelle Hodkin

All right, You Great Git, You've asked for it. I'll cover the world in Tastee-Freez and Wimpy Burgers. I'll fill it with concrete runways, motorways, aircraft, television, automobiles, advertising, plastic flowers, frozen food and supersonic bangs. I'll make it so noisy and disgusting that even You'll be ashamed of Yourself! No wonder You've so few friends. You're unbelievable! — Peter Cook

Seemed to me a phone was an impersonal instrument. If it felt like it, it let your personality go through its wires. If it didn't want to, it just drained your personality away until what slipped through at the other end was some cold fish of a voice, all steel, copper, plastic, no warmth, no reality. It's easy to say the wrong thing on telephones; the telephone changes your meaning on you. First thing you know, you've made an enemy. Then, of course, the telephone's such a convenient thing; it just sits there and demands you call someone who doesn't want to be called. Friends were always calling, calling, calling me. Hell, I hadn't any time of my own. — Ray Bradbury

In contravention of my belief that any life ending in death is essentially pointless, I needed my friends to open up that plastic bag and take one last look at me. Someone had to remember me, if only for a few more minutes in the vast silent waiting room of time. — Gary Shteyngart

Before I lost my father, I never understood the rituals surrounding funerals: the wake, the service itself, the reception afterward,the dinners prepared by well-meaning friends and delivered in plastic containers, even the popular habit of making poster boards filled with photos of the dear departed. But now I know why we do those things. It's busywork, all of it. I had so much to take care of, so many arrangements to make, so many people to inform, I didn't have a moment to be engulfed by the ocean of grief that was lapping at my heels. Instead, I waded through the shallows, performing task after task, grateful to have duties to propel me forward. — Wendy Webb

Maybe I should have run, but I stood there frozen, watching my only two friends attack the dark lord of fire with cheap plastic toys. Finally — Rick Riordan