Not A Pretty Girl Quotes & Sayings

I'm not a pretty princess, and I'm aware of that, so I like music that is really intense, really bold, and characters that in a way almost have a dark side and are kind of evil because, for me, that's when I feel my strongest and fiercest, when I'm not necessarily the good girl. — Ashley Wagner

Any man who can drive safely while kissing a pretty girl is simply not giving the kiss the attention it deserves. — Albert Einstein

Together the two walked under the trees through the streets of the town and talked of what they would do with their lives. Alice was then a very pretty girl and Ned Currie took her into his arms and kissed her. He became excited and said things he did not intend to say and Alice, betrayed by her desire to have something beautiful come into her rather narrow life, also grew excited. She also talked. The outer crust of her life, all of her natural diffidence and reserve, was torn away and she gave herself over to the emotions of love. — Sherwood Anderson

I am a jack-of-all-trades. I edit and teach and at times desire to be a clothing designer or an artist (one who doesn't draw or paint or sew) and I write everything but poetry and I am a mother and a social maniac and a misanthrope and a burgeoning self-help guru and a girl who wants to look pretty and a girl who wants to look sexy and a girl who wants to look girly and a woman in her middle forties who wishes not to look like anything at all, who wishes sometimes to vanish. — Heidi Julavits

Nicole's door opened, and she stomped down the hall. "I have something to say," she said, giving him the Slitty Eyes of Death. "You're totally unfair, and if I run away, you shouldn't be surprised." "Don't make me put a computer chip in your ear," Liam answered. "It's not funny! I hate you." "Well, I love you, even if you did ruin my life by turning into a teenager," he said, rubbing his eyes. "Did you study for your test?" "Yes." "Good." He looked at his daughter - so much like Emma, way too pretty. Why weren't there convent schools anymore? Or chastity belts? "Want some supper? I saved your plate." She rolled her eyes with all the melodrama a teenager could muster. "Fine. I may as well become a fat pig since I can't ever go on a date." "That's my girl," he said and, grinning, got up to heat up her dinner. — Kristan Higgins

The advantage of being celibate is that when one sees a pretty girl one does not need to grieve over having an ugly one back home. — Paul Leautaud

I'm coming back into focus when Caesar asks him if he has a girlfriend back home. Peeta hesitates, then gives an unconvincing shake of his head.
Handsome lad like you. There must be some special girl. Come on, what's her name?" says Caesar.
Peeta sighs. "Well, there is this one girl. I've had a crush on her ever since I can remember. But I'm pretty sure she didn't know I was alive until the reaping."
Sounds of sympathy from the crowd. Unrequited love they can relate to.
She have another fellow?" asks Caesar.
I don't know, but a lot of boys like her," says Peeta.
So, here's what you do. You win, you go home. She can't turn you down then, eh?" says Caesar encouragingly.
I don't think it's going to work out. Winning ... won't help in my case," says Peeta.
Why ever not?" says Caesar, mystified.
Peeta blushes beet red and stammers out. "Because ... because ... she came here with me. — Suzanne Collins

The truth of life is that every year we get farther away from the essence that is born within us. We get shouldered with burdens, some of them good, some of them not so good. Things happen to us. Loved ones die. People get in wrecks and get crippled. People lose their way, for one reason or another. It's not hard to do, in this world of crazy mazes. Life itself does its best to take that memory of magic away from us. You don't know its happening until one day you feel you've lost something but you're not sure what it is. It's like smiling at a pretty girl and she calls you 'sir'. It just happens. — Robert McCammon

I found a place that I hoped would be obscure, over on one side, in the back, and went to it without genuflecting, and knelt down. As I knelt, the first thing I noticed was a young girl, very pretty too, perhaps fifteen or sixteen, kneeling straight up and praying quite seriously. I was very much impressed to see that someone who was young and beautiful could with such simplicity make prayer the real and serious and principal reason for going to church. She was clearly kneeling that way because she meant it, not in order to show off, and she was praying with an absorption which, though not the deep recollection of a saint, was serious enough to show that she was not thinking at all about the other people who were there. — Thomas Merton

The little girl, seeing she had lost one of her pretty shoes, grew angry, and said to the Witch, "Give me back my shoe!" "I will not," retorted the Witch, "for it is now my shoe, and not yours." "You are a wicked creature!" cried Dorothy. "You have no right to take my shoe from me." "I shall keep it, just the same," said the Witch, laughing at her, "and someday I shall get the other one from you, too." This made Dorothy so very angry that she picked up the bucket of water that stood near and dashed it over the Witch, wetting her from head to foot. Instantly the wicked woman gave a loud cry of fear, and then, as Dorothy looked at her in wonder, the Witch began to shrink and fall away. "See what you have done!" she screamed. "In a minute I shall melt away. — L. Frank Baum

A big producer offered me the part of the pretty girl that waits at home for the guy, and I couldn't do it. That's not a story I ever want to tell. — Brie Larson

Rosie hated her curly golden hair. When she was old enough to hold minimal conversations, the itsy-bitsy-cutesycoo sort of grown-ups would pull the soft ringlets gently and tell her what a pretty little girl she was. She would stare at this sort of grown-up and say, "I am not pretty. I am intelligent. And brave." The grown-ups usually thought this was darling, which only made her angry, perhaps partly because she was speaking the truth, although it was tricky to differentiate between "brave" and "foolhardy" at three or four years old. — Robin McKinley

And, oh yes, I did see Nessie! But that was much later on after a late evening that involved several pints and more than my share of Scapa Flow whisky. Nice girl. Pretty face. Longish neck. Not much in the leg department. — Ian MacGregger

Katniss: I'm coming back into focus when Caesar asks him if he has a girlfriend back home.
Peeta: (Gives an unconvincing shake of head.)
Caesar: Handsome lad like you. There must be some special girl. Come on, what's her name?
Peeta: Well, there is this one girl. I've had a crush on her ever since I can remember. But I'm pretty sure she didn't know I was alive until the reaping.
Caesar: She have another fellow?
Peeta: I don't know, but a lot of boys like her.
Caesar: So, here's what you do. You win, you go home. She can't turn you down, eh?
Peeta: I don't think it's going to work out. Winning ... won't help in my case.
Caesar: Why ever not?
Peeta: Because ... because ... she came here with me.
Caesar: Oh, that is a piece of bad luck.
Peeta: It's not good.
Caesar: Well, I don't think any of us can blame you. It'd be hard not to fall for that young lady. She didn't know?
Peeta: Not until now. — Suzanne Collins

I hope you sleep better than I do." The change in topics threw me. "You're not sleeping?" He slowly shook his head. "Knowing my bedroom backs up to yours, that you're only a wall away, lying in bed, makes that pretty fucking impossible." Every muscle in my body loosened, tingles of energy rushing through me. Could a girl orgasm from words? A charged silence passed between us. "'Night. — Rebecca Yarros

I'd prefer not to be the pretty thing in a film. It's such a bloody responsibility to look cute, because people know when you don't and they're like, They're trying to pass her off as the cute girl and she's looking like a bedraggled sack of potatoes. — Minnie Driver

I think 'The Girl with the Dragon Tattoo' is a good example of a film where you have to juggle a whole lot of information to follow that story, and even if you haven't read the book, it seems to go pretty well. And that is a film where the characters didn't meet until 74 minutes into the film, not on page 17. — Niels Arden Oplev

Chinese whisper games will start, where one woman will nod at a young dancing girl, asking a question that is passed down the row from one woman to another, before a response comes back up the line in the same manner. These women are in the business of finding wives for their sons and they offer up occasional commentary on the performance before them.
"Not so pretty. Her sister is better."
"That poor one will have a hard time, yes. The dark skin - she is already an old woman. She will have to wait, yes."
Information about the girl's family's honor, purity, and place in society is also exchanged — Jenny Nordberg

Great pals we've always been. In fact there was a time when I had an idea I was in love with Cynthia. However, it blew over. A dashed pretty and lively and attractive girl, mind you, but full of ideals and all that. I may be wronging her, but I have an idea that she's the sort of girl who would want a fellow to carve out a career and what not. I know I've heard her speak favourably of Napoleon. So what with one thing and another the jolly old frenzy sort of petered out, and now we're just pals. I think she's a topper, and she thinks me next door to a looney, so everything's nice and matey. — P.G. Wodehouse

I have many friends who are married - not many who are happily married, but many married friends. The few happy ones are like my parents: They're baffled by my singleness. A smart, pretty, nice girl like me, a girl with so many interests and enthusiasms, a cool job, a loving family. And let's say it: money. They knit their eyebrows and pretend to think of men they can set me up with, but we all know there's no one left, no one good left, and I know that they secretly think there's something wrong with me, something hidden away that makes me unsatisfiable, unsatisfying. — Gillian Flynn

I'm starting to think I'll probably never have a girlfriend, which would be okay too. On those few occasions when a girl has actually flirted with me, tipped her head sideways and laughed at some stupid remark, all it did was make me angry. It seemed like she was playing a game with idiotic rules. First you laugh, then you tell a pretty lie, then you stick your tongue in each other's mouths, then you say something really mean and hurtful to each other, then you go off to find somebody else who wants to play the game. This is an activity for intelligent people? I think not. — Ellen Wittlinger

I brought a picture with me that I had at home, of a girl in a swing with a castle and pretty blue bubbles in the background, to hang in my room, but that nurse here said the girl was naked from the waist up and not appropriate. You know, I've had that picture for fifty years and I never knew she was naked. If you ask me, I don't think the old men they've got here can see well enough to notice that she's bare-breasted. But, this is a Methodist home, so she's in the closet with my gallstones. — Fannie Flagg

In the inky stillness of the next morning, Lisette woke up and dressed quietly in the silks her elderly mother still sent her from Paris- cool slippery things that made her feel like she was covering herself with fresh air. For a while, after she left Paris, Lisette threw away her mother's packages on principle. Lisette was not the same vain pretty girl her mother had once known. But then Lisette started making an exception for the lingerie. It was not vain if no one but herself saw her wear them. She then put on a blue dress and a freshly laundered apron that smelled like lemongrass soap Eby used for the camp's sheets and towels, the only soap that could take out the damp mustiness that wanted to cling to everything in this place. — Sarah Addison Allen

I am not a pretty girl. I don't want to be a pretty girl. No, I want to be more than a pretty girl. — Ani DiFranco

People get DUIs, people get in fights with their boyfriends, it happens, life happens, but it's about being accountable for your actions. I don't know. I'm just not that girl, I don't go to clubs. I'm a pretty normal girl. — Leslie Bibb

Right then, Mel came into the bar, hung her jacket on the peg inside the door and jumped up on a stool in front of her husband, elbows on the bar, leaning toward him for a kiss. "Holy shit," one of the men said. "Look at that one. Talk about a doe I'd like to bag." Jack straightened before meeting his wife's lips. The look on his face wasn't a pretty one. "You know," Mike said, laughing uncomfortably, "about our women. You boys don't want to be giving the women around here any trouble. Trust me on this, okay?" That set up a round of hilarious laughter at the table of hunters and one of them said, unfortunately too loudly, "Maybe the girl wants to get bagged. I think we should at least ask her!" But oops - glancing over his shoulder, Mike saw Jack had heard that. And probably so had Mel. And after what those two had been through earlier in the summer, comments like that were not taken lightly. And — Robyn Carr

Evening attend two "fandangos." Girls not very pretty but exceedingly graceful. [You] pay a dime for a figure and refreshments foryour doxy, who instead of eating prudently stores her cakes, etc., in a basket to be taken home for the family. — Rutherford B. Hayes

That's not wise, Lin. I think wisdom is very over-rated. Wisdom is just cleverness, with all the guts kicked out of it. I'd rather be clever than wise, any day. Most of the wise people I know give me a headache, but I never met a clever man or woman I didn't like. If I was giving wise advice - which I'm not - I'd say don't get drunk, don't spend all your money, and don't fall in love with a pretty village girl. That would be wise. That's the difference between clever and wise. I prefer to be clever, and that's why I told you to surrender, when you get to the village, no matter what you find when you get there. Okay. I'm going. Come and see me when you get back. I look forward to it. I really do. — Gregory David Roberts

I am the lucky duck because I have family . My wonderful aunt and uncle are letting me crash on their couch, which isn't really a couch ... I have a room! It's been kind of a blessing for the cast because all of us have gotten so close, not knowing anyone in Atlanta. All the guys on the show have become kind of like brothers, and all of us girls are pretty inseparable. — Candice Accola

And get some self-esteem. What the fuck is that? It's so annoying to see a pretty girl see herself as not worthy. You know what it makes us guys think you aren't worthy? We see you how you see you. You're pretty and funny and smart. Stop being such a douche-canoe. — Tara Brown

People listen to music for different reasons. Some people, -its background music - but other people need it to survive. Other people need music to get things out and maybe that's just where I'm coming from, you know, when things weren't easy for me, growing up. You know, music, I felt, saved my life. Pete Townshend, wherever you are, Pete, you saved my life. You know, whether he knows it or not. I wouldn't be here. And I had absolutely nothing else besides music. And so that's still, you know, that's in me, and so if we're gonna play, if we're gonna get up and play, or write a song, you know, write about something that means something. You know, why write about, you know, 'Oh, pretty day', or, 'Pretty girl' or 'Pretty people', there's nothing ... people have different reasons for listening and playing. I need to - for me-, it's much more.. religious! — Eddie Vedder

This one girl here, Devon, she's from Detroit. She's brand-new too. One day I was about to leave to the grocery store, which is like a ten-minute walk away. She asked me to pick up a sandwich for her (which was kind of annoying), so I was like, "Why don't you come with me?"
She was like, "I can't, 'cause I can't walk very far."
I was like, "It's not even ten minutes. Come on, don't be lazy - if anything it'll be a mini workout."
She was like, "Ever since I got shot, it hurts when I walk uphill."
(The walk on the way back is pretty much all on an incline.)
I asked her why she got shot. I thought . . . Detroit? Ghetto, right? Probably domestic abuse, or a drug-related thing.
She goes, "I got in a fight over a parking space, and the guy shot me in both of my knees. — Asa Akira

What drives us to despair is not the immensity of our unsatisfied desires, but the moment when our fledgling passion discovers its own emptiness. Insatiable desire for passionate knowledge of one pretty girl after another stems from anxiety and from fear of love, so afraid are we of never encountering anything but objects. The dawn when lovers leave each other's arms is the same dawn that breaks on the execution of revolutionaries without a revolution. Isolation a deux cannot prevail over the isolation of all. Pleasure is broken off prematurely and lovers find themselves naked in the world, their actions suddenly ridiculous and feeble. No love is possible in an unhappy world. — Raoul Vaneigem

I gave up drinking, and the next time I saw Bonny at a party, she was mad at me about that too, and went off and made out all night with Chip Neminech, the tackle who demonstrated that not only is there no I in team, there's no Q, either. I suppose, given that my mother was a girl, I shouldn't have been surprised that some of them could get pretty weird. — John Barnes

Looking at my reflection tonight, I see a new girl staring back at me. She has big hair and big eyes and a big heart. Not only is she the perfect size and pretty ... she is smart. -Mackenzie — Tara Michener

Ever since I began to compose, I have remained true to my starting principle: not to write a page because no matter what public, or what pretty girl wanted it to be thus or thus; but to write solely as I myself thought best, and as it gave me pleasure. — Felix Mendelssohn

Beginning to feel that her brother was being rather too harsh on Lillian Bowman, Livia frowned. "She's a very pretty girl, Marcus."
"A pretty facade isn't enough to make up for the flaws in her character."
"Which are?"
Marcus made a faint scoffing sound, as if Miss Bowman's faults were too obvious to require enumeration. "She's manipulative."
"So are you, dear," Livia murmured.
He ignored that. "She's domineering."
"As are you."
"She's arrogant."
"Also you," Livia said brightly.
Marcus glowered at her. "I thought we were discussing Miss Bowman's faults, not mine."
"But you seem to have so much in common," Livia protested, rather too innocently. — Lisa Kleypas

People assume that because I'm a girl and my blog is hot pink that my readership is 90% women, but it's not. It's probably only about 65%. When I do tours, it's pretty much the same thing: it's about one-third guys. — Jenny Lawson

... I want to feel alive... so I don't have any thoughts on so far to ending my life. I still like people's impressions and expressions, I can't stop do that moreover to watch that.... Interesting face... once upon a time a girl asked me "How do I feel"... I said "Not okay"... and that was all... - Pretty confusing! — Deyth Banger

Said. Karen inhaled deeply and blew until there was no more air in her lungs and smoke filled the room but there wasn't a single candle still burning. "Never underestimate the power of a strong woman," she said breathlessly. "Amen," Hannah murmured. Kim motioned toward the bar. "Momma's choice tonight. Mexican buffet, which comes before cake." "Not for me. I'm having a slice of that cake right now. It's my birthday and I want dessert first. Momma always let me do that on my birthday when I was a little girl," Karen said. "Yes, I did, and if you want your cake first tonight, then have at it," Hannah agreed. "Well, I'm getting into those tacos," Edith said. "Y'all have to try my watermelon salsa. I hadn't made it in years, but it turned out pretty good considering that the watermelon wasn't as good as I like it to be." "What's in it?" Sue asked. — Carolyn Brown

Is your future faery bride too ugly for you?"
Rhys leaned back against the head rest and studied the seat
back in front of him. "That's not it."
"Too old or too young?"
"No."
I rolled my eyes, but smiled. This was why he was upset. He
hadn't landed the perfect bride-to-be. "Her pretty faery wings
aren't the right shade of sparkly lavender and pink?"
His eyes flashed with anger. "Actually, she doesn't have faery
wings."
"She doesn't?"
"No. As a matter of fact, the dragon oracle tells me the girl I'm
supposed to marry, the one destined to someday become the queen
of the faery realm, isn't a faery at all."
Okay, that was surprising. Not a faery?
"She isn't?" I said. "Then who is she?"
His expression was severe as he turned to look me right in the
eye.
"You," he said — Michelle Rowen

I think if I lived in New York I would be really stressed out going out to a club and seeing a good DJ who's doing something on a similar level. I'm pretty critical of myself when it comes to the music. Maybe they're not doing as many samples or the samples aren't put together as specifically but it would stress me out to feel like I needed to be one upping someone. In Pittsburgh, I'm in my own world - I know I'm the guy doing this here. — Girl Talk

All of them are men, not a girl amongst them unless you count Tommy Falk because his lips are so pretty. — Maggie Stiefvater

You've kidnapped my friend. Sucked her brain out! Not that she had much to begin with, but - "
"Bite me." The laughter didn't hurt, now. I didn't even feel weird saying it. Bite me.
Pretty funny, for a part-vampire.
"Ha. You wish. Lesbo vamp girl."
"Lesbo?"
"You love me."
"We'd never work, Nat. You're too high maintenance."
We both cracked up, and right then, the darkness was kind. — Lili St. Crow

Let them say what they want," Kuni said. He admired the pamphlets and laughed. "I look pretty good as a girl, though I think they are suggesting I lose a few pounds. I have to send some of these to Jia; she could probably use the laugh as I imagine the baby - may the Twins protect the child - is making her life very stressful." "What is wrong with you?" Mata Zyndu roared and tore the pamphlet in his hands into pieces. He smashed the table in front of him; then, for good measure, smashed the table in front of Kuni as well. He stomped and ground the broken pieces of wood into even smaller pieces against the stone floor. But his rage was not assuaged. Not even a little bit. He paced back and forth in front of Kuni, kicking the wooden splinters every which way. Servants scattered to distant corners of the room, away from the barrage. "What is so bad about being compared to women?" Kuni said. "Half the world is made of women." Mata — Ken Liu

If she did see, I hoped she' be amazed. Amazed and thankful, because without even asking, she'd received a genuine autograph from a genuine girl from Atlanta. Not just any girl, but a girl who was, frankly, a pretty big deal. A girl who was me. — Lauren Myracle

She was also damn cute. Not beautiful or stunningly pretty, but she was cuter than any girl with that much attitude had a right to be, and somehow the bouquet of flowers that colored her skin in every shape and variety seemed like it belonged there. — Jay Crownover

Sometimes he wished he didn't have a sister, though he loved Deenie and still remembered the feeling he had when he caught that kid Ethan pushing her off the swing set in the school yard in fifth grade. And how time seemed to speed up until he was shoving the kid into the fence and tearing his jacket. The admiring look his sister gave him after, the way his parents pretended to be mad at him but he could tell they weren't.
These days, it was pretty different. There'd be those moments he was forced to think about her not just as Deenie but as the girl whose slender tank tops hung over the shower curtain. Like bright streamers, like the flair the cheerleaders threw at games.
Sometimes he wished he didn't have a sister. — Megan Abbott

Cooper gave me a very serious expression. "I'm going to do something. Do not freak out. Be casual. Can you do that?"
"No," I said in a panic.
Cooper reached behind me and I felt his fingers on my ass. Forcing myself to stay very still, I felt him fiddling around then he pulled his hand away.
"That suit is old and it's riding up," he explained, taking a beer from his brother who walked by. "I didn't want anyone seeing my girl's ass cheeks."
"I didn't notice," I said, reaching behind me awkwardly.
"It's too hot out to notice. You're fine now."
"You could have just told me," I said then rolled my eyes. "But why would you when you could touch my ass instead?"
"My girl is pretty fucking smart," he said, giving me a big bright smile. — Bijou Hunter

what goes on in that woman's head but she says she isn't psychic, that this has never happened to her before. I don't know what to believe, Jane, but I do think she is a seriously weird woman. You heard her screams at the station, didn't you?' Jane nodded. 'Well, Tom and I stayed the night at her place last night and it was exactly the same. She shrieks in her sleep. Whatever she is dreaming about, it's not pretty. She says she has them every night until Picasso kills the girl. Well, — Valerie Keogh

If it wasn't for this person's privacy, I'd be able to talk pretty freely about this subject on a personal level. The record's about not her. It's about my struggles through years of dealing with the aftermath of lost love and longing and just mediocrity and just bad news, like life stuff. And in the [record], where the title comes from, the lyrics are actually a conversation between me and another girl, not this Emma character. — Justin Vernon

But what was tragic about the girl was that she had not been born ugly. She might even have been a pretty child, and the grace proper to her age was still at odds with the repulsive premature aging induced by loose living and poverty. A trace of beauty still lingered in the sixteen-year-old face, like pale sunlight fading beneath the massed clouds of a winter's dawn. — Victor Hugo

Wanderer: You don't really feel that way about me you know. It's this body ... she's pretty isn't she?
Ian: She is. Melanie is a very pretty girl. Even beautiful. But pretty as she is, she is a stranger to me. She's not the one I ... care about.
Wanderer: It's this body.
Ian: That's not true at all. It's not the face, but the expressions on it. It's not the voice, but what they say. It's not how you look like in that body, it's what you do with it. You are beautiful. — Stephenie Meyer

Anybody can look at a pretty girl and see a pretty girl. An artist can look at a pretty girl and see the old woman she will become. A better artist can look at an old woman and see the pretty girl that she used to be. But a great artist-a master-and that is what Auguste Rodin was-can look at an old woman, protray her exactly as she is ... and force the viewer to see the pretty girl she used to be ... and more than that, he can make anyone with the sensitivity of an armadillo, or even you, see that this lovely young girl is still alive, not old and ugly at all, but simply prisoned inside her ruined body. He can make you feel the quiet, endless tragedy that there was never a girl born who ever grew older than eighteen in her heart ... no matter what the merciless hours have done to her. Look at her, Ben. Growing old doesn't matter to you and me; we were never meant to be admired-but it does to them. — Robert A. Heinlein

Montana is the hostess, a pretty, pleasantly blank-looking high-school-age girl. It's not profound blankness - just the vacancy of youth. A certain position of the head, a set of the eyes, all of which can be transformed by twenty-two or twenty-five or twenty-seven, her eyes sharper, head tilted down into life, ready for impact. She just needs something terrible to happen to her, and then needs to do something terrible to someone else. After that, she's all set. — Scott Hutchins

I'd always thought that my awkwardness was a thin veil disguising the real me. The me that was funny and could write songs that touched people. The me that would one day find some beautiful, intelligent boy who'd recognize me as his soul mate. The me who was secretly pretty and stylish if only someone would lift the veil and see. But I was beginning to suspect that underneath the awkwardness there was just more awkwardness and not much else. And that would explain why I stood in a room full of people and felt like the loneliest girl in the world. — Sarra Manning

Everyone goes to the 'Grands-Boulevards' (in Paris, ed.) and let himself loose ... Do not picture these in costume, they are not for the most part ... perhaps a clown with a big nose, or two girls with bare necks and short skirts ... the parade of the queens of the halls (markets) is also one of the events ... Some are pretty but look awkward in their silk dresses and crowns, particularly as the broad sun displays their defects - perhaps a neck too thin or a painted face which shows ghastley white in the sunlight. — Edward Hopper

Not they indeed," cried Thorpe; "for, as we turned into Broad Street, I saw them - does he not drive a phaeton with bright chestnuts?" "I do not know indeed." "Yes, I know he does; I saw him. You are talking of the man you danced with last night, are not you?" "Yes. "Well, I saw him at that moment turn up the Lansdown Road, driving a smart-looking girl." "Did you indeed?" "Did upon my soul; knew him again directly, and he seemed to have got some very pretty cattle too." "It is very odd! But I suppose they thought it would be too dirty for a walk. — Jane Austen

That's stupid," Luke says sharply, totally out of character, and shoots Laura a look that makes her flush red. "First of all, she's not ugly-pretty, she's just normal pretty. What a dumb thing to say. And second, she's different from the average girl 'cause she doesn't even need makeup."
Silence. Luke looks down at his arm and twirls the leather strap around his wrist. I nudge him, and when he looks up at me, I mouth Thank you, not trusting my voice since an unexpected lump has found its way to my throat. — Alecia Whitaker

I don't know what it is about you that makes me want you so fucking bad.'
They may not be the words a girl longs to hear, but I cherish them. Because they're real and real is better than a pretty lie. — Nyrae Dawn

She smoothes the front of the dress, looking down at her hands, at her bitten fingernails, at her big feet in the pointy-toes shoes. This is a woman's dress, she thinks, a young woman's dress. It is not a girl's dress. It is solidly on the other side of the line outside of girlhood. It is a dress that says something big in a very quiet way; it is a dress that is talking to Alice right now, a dress that is making her feel possibilities never before considered, the possibility of perfume and pretty and dancing and boys. This dress is who she might be, only more so. — Laura Harrington

I was not considered beautiful before I was a feminist. I was a pretty girl before, but suddenly, after I was publicly identified as a feminist, I was beautiful. So, many people were really commenting on what they thought feminists looked like. — Gloria Steinem

I was not a good-lookin' girl. I was extremely skinny. I wasn't pretty. I wasn't cool. — Celine Dion

Carmel's a very pretty girl," she says hopefully. "Thomas seems to think so." She sighs, then smiles. "Good. He could use a woman's touch."
"Mom," I groan. "Gross." "Not that kind of touch," she laughs. — Kendare Blake

It's not like I've ever been the popular pretty girl at school or anything. I was always such a weirdo. — Maisie Williams

But I'm not just shocked. I'm also disappointed in May for allowing Z.G. to talk her into this. I'm angry at him for preying on her vulnerability. And I'm heartsick that May and I have to take it. This is how women end up on the street selling their bodies. But then this is how it is for women everywhere. You experience one lapse in conscience, in how low you think you'll go, in what you'll accept, and pretty soon you're at the bottom. You've become a girl with three holes, the lowest form of prostitute, living on one of the floating brothels in Soochow Creek, catering to Chinese so poor they don't mind catching a loathsome disease in exchange for a few humping moments of the husband-wife thing. — Lisa See

Maybe it's not a lesson so much as it's a magic trick. You can make a little girl into anything if you say the right words. Take her apart until all that's left is her red, red heart thumping against the world. Stitch her up again real good. Now, maybe you get a woman. If you're lucky. If that's what you were after. Just as easy to end up with a blackbird or a circus bear or a coyote. Or a parrot, just saying what's said to you, doing what's done to you, copying until it comes so natural that even when you're all alone you keep on cawing hello pretty bird at the dark. — Catherynne M Valente

When you think a girl looks pretty, say it. But don't reference the thing that might reveal you are aware of the backstage process: e.g., say, "You look gorgeous tonight," not "I like how you did your makeup tonight." Also, a compliment means less if you compliment the thing and not the way the girl is carrying it off. So say, "You look so sexy in those boots," rather than "Those boots are really cool." I didn't make the boots! I don't care if you like the boots' design! We are magic to you: you have no idea how we got to look as good as we do. — Mindy Kaling

I'm a good girl. I'm a nice girl. I'm a straight-A, strait-laced, good daughter, good career girl, and I never stole anybody's boyfriend and I never ran out on a girlfriend, and I put up with my parents' shit and brother's shit and I'm not a girl anyhow, I'm over forty fucking years old, and I'm good at my job and I'm great with kids and I held my mother's hand when she died,after four years of holding her hand while she was dying, and I speak to my father ever day on the telephone
every day, mind you, and what kind of weather do you have on your side of the river, because here it's pretty gray and a big muggy too? It was supposed to say "Great Artist" on my tombstone, but if I died right now it would say "Such a good teacher/daughter/friend" instead; and what I really want to shout, and want in big letters on that grave, too, is FUCK YOU ALL. — Claire Messud

If you are ever in doubt as to whether or not you should kiss a pretty girl, always give her the benefit of the doubt. — Thomas Carlyle

Science, with a thousand triumphs to her credit, has not yet succeeded in discovering the correct reply for a young man to make who finds himself in the appalling position of being apologized to by a pretty girl. — P.G. Wodehouse

Pam (from The Office) is not intimidating, like one of those women who wears makeup and tailored clothes, and has a good job that she enjoys, and confidence, and an adult woman's sexuality. There's nothing scary about Pam, because there's no mystery; she's just like the boys who like her; mousy and shy. The ultimate emo-boy fantasy is to meet a nerdy, cute girl just like him, and nobody else will realize she's pretty. And she'll melt when she sees his record collection because it's just like hers ... and she'll never want to go out to a party for which he'll be forced to comb his hair, or buy grown-up shoes or tie a tie, or demonstrate a hearty handshake, or make eye contact, or relate to people who work in different fields, or to basically act like a man. — Julie Klausner

No, I don't party; no, I don't dress in black leather and chains; that's not my style. That's how I was raised. I worry about getting good grades and I go to church and I watch sci-fi movies and I generally follow the rules. Most people would call me a geek or a nerd. You've called me that many times. But that isn't everything that defines me. I mean, look at me, sitting here in a rainstorm under a tree that's probably going to kill us when the lightning hits it, holding the hand of a pretty cool girl who really is the opposite of me, a girl that I happen to be in love with. A girl I couldn't have imagined would want to be with me. But here she is, letting me hold her hand, trying to tell me why she isn't good enough for me. That's crazy. — Cindy C. Bennett

But she's not going to call the cops or stab me in my sleep, and what more can you ask of a pretty girl? — Richard Kadrey

You think I don't know what I want? You think I love the idea of relying on my looks for life? No! It's pathetic! In my head, I have a nice, quiet, normal job that involves me running my own business. I carry a briefcase around my office with important documents, I have a nice assistant who calls me boss, and people ask me questions - they ask for my advice because I matter! I'm important to them! I'm recognized as something more than a pretty face and a pair of legs. I have a brain and interests and thoughts about religion, and poverty, and economics. I'm not a miserable girl with a number attached to her chest, stripping her clothes off in a room full of people. — Elisa Marie Hopkins

Blue, largely against her will, glanced to the booth he pointed to. Three boys sat at it: one was smudgy, just as he said, with a rumpled, faded look about his person, like his body had been laundered too many times. The one who'd hit the light was handsome and his head was shaved; a soldier in a war where the enemy was everyone else. And the third was -- elegant. It was not the right word for him, but it was close. He was fine boned and a little fragile looking, with blue eyes pretty enough for a girl. — Maggie Stiefvater

This possibility was not flattering to me; it was terrifying. There were other things a guy could think I was, and he wouldn't be entirely wrong - nice, or loyal, or maybe interesting. Not that I was always any of those thing, but in certain situations, it was conceivable. But to be seen as pretty was to be fundamentally misunderstood. First of all, I wasn't pretty, and on top of that I didn't take care of myself like a pretty girl did; I wasn't even one of the unpretty girls who passes as pretty through effort and association. If a guy believed my value to lie in my looks, it meant either that he'd somehow been mislead and would eventually be disappointed, or that he had very low standards. — Curtis Sittenfeld

That's how powerful you are, girl ... You pretty, but pretty alone is not what people see. You the kinda pretty, the kinda beauty, that's like a mirror. Men and women see themselves in you, only now they so beautiful that they can't bear to see you go. — Walter Mosley

I guess I should explain. I'm not exactly your typical sixteen-year-old girl.
Oh, I seem normal enough, I guess. I don't do drugs, or drink, or smoke-well, okay, except for that one time Sleepy caught me. I don't have anything pierced, except my ears, and only once on each earlobe. I don't have any tattoos. I've never dyed my hair. Except for my boots and leather jacket, I don't wear an excessive amount of black. I don't even wear dark fingernail polish. All in all, I am a pretty normal, everyday, American teenage girl.
Except, of course, for the fact that I can talk to the dead. — Meg Cabot

She's not as pretty as you," I said
"But she's a simpler girl," my mother whispered. — Janet Fitch

Technically this is assault and Henry would tell me to verbally request that you not file a sexual harassment claim against me," she said, turning back to Priya. "Honestly, I don't give a shit. I just want you to wake up. Although you know, you're pretty hot and all." This, too, was part of the story. Sleeping Beauties liked declarations of love, or attraction, or just "damn, girl, look at that body" before they were kissed awake. — Seanan McGuire

I'm more attracted to glamour than natural beauty. The young Marilyn Monroe was a pretty girl in a sea of pretty girls. Then she had her hair bleached, fake eyelashes, and that's when she became extraordinary. It's that idea of what you're not born with, you can create. — Dita Von Teese

This is the man who hopes to be King of England. He has to marry a princess. He's not going to marry some beggarly widow from the camp of his enemy, who stood out on the road to plead with him to restore her dowry. If he marries an Englishwoman at all, she will be one of the great ladies of the Lancaster court, probably Warwick's daughter Isabel. He's not going to marry a girl whose own father fought against him. He's more likely to marry a great princess of Europe, an infanta from Spain, or a princesse from France. He has to marry to set himself more safely on the throne, to make alliances. He's not going to marry a pretty face for love. Lord Warwick would never allow it. And he is not such a fool as to go against his own interests. — Philippa Gregory

You got a nickname, little Dorothy Matthews? 'Cause that's a fuckin' mouthful, right there. Not that I mind a mouthful of pretty girl. — Madeline Sheehan

When I was younger," Kikomi said, "I would get into debates with my brothers and their friends. They could seldom win, for their minds were dull, and they did not apply themselves to their work. But often, when it was clear that I had the better argument, they would laugh and say 'It's impossible to argue with such a pretty girl,' and thereby deny me my victory. Life has not changed much since then. — Ken Liu

It's hard because I seek out strong female roles. I turn down a lot of stuff, not because it's not good, but because I don't want to play certain types of characters. I don't like to just play the pretty girl. — Gina Holden

P.S. Please don't call me Isabella. That name belongs to a really pretty girl who never wrecks her clothes and who never gets dirt under her fingernails. That's definitely not me. My name is Izzy. — Jenny Lundquist

You may have an occasion to be traveling in southern Maine yourself one of these days. Pretty part of the countryside. You may even stop by Tookey's Bar for a drink. Nice place. They kept the name just the same. So have your drink, and then my advice to you is to keep right on moving north. Whatever you do, don't go up that road to Jerusalem's Lot. Especially not after dark. There's a little girl somewhere out there. And I think she's still waiting for her good-night kiss. — Stephen King

I actually really don't want to know," I admitted. "Up until a few seconds ago I had a lot of illusions about you being this incredible, sane guy and I'd like to keep them, but I'm not going to be satisfied until I do."
"Fine then, I won't tell you."
I planted my face in my palm and sighed. "It doesn't matter how crazy this is, I'm going to be thinking about it all night."
He gave me a purely demonic grin. "Then I definitely won't tell you. "
My eyes narrowed. "That's nothing to be proud of."
"And why wouldn't I be proud of keeping a pretty girl up all night?" He chuckled and chewed on a French fry.
My face and the back of my neck burned. He had to be joking. No one could say something so horrifying and then eat a French fry. Supernatural beings didn't like fast food, I was sure of it. This was all an elaborate hoax and I just hasn't picked up on it yet. It had to be, and even if it wasn't I would pretend it was. Pretend until it became true. — Katherine Pine

I looked at the girl serving refreshments to the guests, with a smile on her face. She was in her teens. She had put on an orange coloured churidar, with a yellow dupatta and had a frame on her eyes,making her chubby face pretty. I felt nothing special about her. That '; wow!' factor was not there. Seconds later, I realised she stepped towards me and served me with a glass of juice and walked away. No talks, no smile, no eye to eye contact and definitely not love at first sight — Kalpa Das

Concentrate. Level the sight. Breathe in.
Ease the trigger. And relax?
BLAP! The can somersaulted across the sand.

Pride swelled till I thought I'd burst.
But my pride slipped at Dad's reality check.
Not bad. Pretty good, in fact. For a girl. — Ellen Hopkins

School and a year into remission. You had to be pretty sick for the Genies to hook you up with a Wish. "I got it in exchange for the leg," he explained. There was all this light on his face; he had to squint to look at me, which made his nose crinkle adorably. "Now, I'm not going to give you my Wish or anything. But I also have an interest in meeting Peter Van Houten, and it wouldn't make sense to meet him without the girl who introduced me to his book." "It definitely wouldn't," I said. "So I talked to the Genies, and they are in total agreement. They said Amsterdam is lovely in the beginning of May. They proposed — John Green

C... wasn't actually sure how things went forward from here. Normally, if he had a fight with a girl, then the relationship was over and he moved on to the next girl. Of course, that usually happened after a week or two, not after months with a woman he'd known for years, and was pretty sure he'd be content to spend the next couple of decades getting to know better. — Amy Jo Cousins

Not being beautiful was the true blessing. Not being beautiful forced me to develop my inner resources. The pretty girl has a handicap to overcome. — Golda Meir

She even told me how to treat a girl on a date, which was very interesting. She said that with a girl like Mary Elizabeth, you shouldn't tell her she looks pretty. You should tell her how nice her outfit is because her outfit is her choice whereas her face isn't. She also said that with some girls, you should do things like open car doors and buy flowers, but with Mary Elizabeth (especially since it's the Sadie Hawkins' dance), I shouldn't do that. So, I asked her what I should do, and she said that I should ask a lot of questions and not mind when Mary Elizabeth doesn't stop talking. I said that it didn't sound very democratic, but Sam said she does it all the time with boys. — Stephen Chbosky

One day, a pretty, fresh-faced young lady - intelligent and sincerely concerned - asked me if abortion wasn't preferable to making a young, unmarried girl have a baby she didn't want and which would, therefore, grow up unloved and probably turn out to be a criminal. I gave an answer which apparently she hadn't considered. I told her there were literally millions of people in this country who wanted but could not have children and who waited eagerly, sometimes for years, to adopt the baby she had described. — Ronald Reagan

I'm pretty, but I'm not, like, a 'pretty girl.' — Taylor Momsen

My actual beauty routine is pretty simple, I try and have a facial once in a while. I'm not a huge products girl. I have so much going on with work and kids, I just use moisturiser basically. — Gwyneth Paltrow

Did you see it?" asked Yarvi.
"I had that questionable privilege."
"What do you think?"
"She is wretched. She is all pride and anger. She has too much confidence and too little. She does not know herself." The figure pushed back her hood. A black-skinned old woman with a face lean as famine and hair shaved to gray fuzz. She picked her nose with one long forefinger, carefully examined the results, then flicked them away "The girl is stupid as a stump. Worse. Most stumps have the dignity to rot quietly without causing offense."
"I'm right here," Thorn managed to hiss from her hands and knees.
"Just where the drunk boy put you." The woman flashed a smile at Brand that seemed to have too many teeth. "I like him, though: he is pretty and desperate. My favorite combination. — Joe Abercrombie

Never 'it,' never 'it,' " Marya chided. "None of God's creatures is an 'it,' even if they're not a boy or a girl or a mammal or a pretty bird. Call them 'he' or she' and be a little wrong, but never take away their individuality like that. — Mira Grant