Oh Yes I Am Quotes & Sayings

Oh, yes, I know, I am a great deal better," said Paul, "a very great deal better. Listen, Floy; what is it the sea keeps saying?" "Nothing, dear, it is only the rolling of the waves you hear. — Charles Dickens

Not hear it?
yes, I hear it, and have heard it. Long
long
long
many minutes, many hours, many days, have I heard it
yet I dared not
oh, pity me, miserable wretch that I am!
I dared not
I dared not speak! We have put her living in the tomb! — Edgar Allan Poe

Oh, Jeeves,' I said; 'about that check suit.'
Yes, sir?'
Is it really a frost?'
A trifle too bizarre, sir, in my opinion.'
But lots of fellows have asked me who my tailor is.'
Doubtless in order to avoid him, sir.'
He's supposed to be one of the best men in London.'
I am saying nothing against his moral character, sir. — P.G. Wodehouse

Oh, yes I am not ashamed of it. I would have everybody marry if they can do it properly; I do not like to have people throw themselves away; but everybody should marry as soon as they can do it to advantage. — Jane Austen

DENNIS, in order to die, one must first be alive."
"Quod erat demonstrandum. Oh, yes, and also: I think, therefore I am. — Keith Caserta

But
no
splendid is not the right word. they are splendid, but they are
they are so friendly. Oh dear!' she said, and looked up at him, half laughing, half embarassed. 'How childish that sounds! But so many of the beatiful things in the rooms beneath us
push you away
tell you to stand back
order you to admire and be abashed. These
these draw you in. These make you want to stay and
and have them for company. Yes, that's right. But I
I am still making them sould like a
like
sort of comfortable, though, am I not? Like a bowl of warm bread and milk and an extra pillos, and that's not it at all. They are not comfortable. Indeed, I feel that if I lived with them for long, I should have to learn to be ... better, or greater, myself. If this Queen of the Heavenly Mountain looked down at me from my bedroom wall every day, soon I should have to go looking for the path to her domain. I wouldn't be able to help myself. — Robin McKinley

I peeled his fingers from my lips. "That was unnecessary." I said. "I was only surprised at your statement, after you have consistently disclaimed any interest in the matter. In fact, I too have discovered the identity of the person in question." "Oh, you have, have you?" "Yes, I have." We studied one another warily. "Would you care to enlighten me?" Emerson inquired. "No. I think I know; but if I am wrong you will never let me hear the end of it. Perhaps you will enlighten me." "No." "Ha! You are not sure either." "I said as much." Again we exchanged measuring glances. "You have no proof," I said. "That is the difficulty. And you - " "Not — Elizabeth Peters

Wretch! I shan't allow you to take a rise out of me! I want to talk to you about Jane!"
"Who the devil is - Oh, yes, I know! One of your girls!"
"My eldest daughter, and, let me remind you, your niece, Alverstoke!"
"Unjust, Louisa, I needed no reminder!"
"I am bringing the dear child out this season,"[ ... ]
"You'll have to do something about her freckles - if she's the one I think she is," he interrupted. "Have you tried citron-water?"
"I didn't invite you to come here to discuss Jane's appearance!" she snapped.
"Well, why did you invite me?"
"To ask you to hold a ball in her honour - at Alverstoke House!" she disclosed, rushing her fence.
"To do what? — Georgette Heyer

Do I perform sometimes in a manic style? Yes. Am I manic all the time? No. Do I get sad? Oh yeah. Does it hit me hard? Oh yeah. — Robin Williams

When she paused, I embraced the opportunity to turn the trend of conversation by saying:
'I am afraid that I was a little rude to you last night,' but I hardly expected such a blunt reply as she made.
'Yes, you were exceedingly rude, and I hate rude men.'
'I hope you don't hate me,' I cried, laughingly.
'Oh no, not quite. You're a Londoner, you see.'
This was very severe. I confess I was hardly prepared for it, and I was tempted to say something cutting in reply, but checked myself, bowed, and merely remarked:
'Which is not my fault. Therefore pity me rather than blame me.'
'Certainly I do that,' she replied, with an amusing seriousness.
("The Doomed Man") — Dick Donovan

Interviewer: So. Tell me about your mother.
Ezra: You're taping this, right?
Interviewer: Audio only. Camera is faulty.
Ezra: Okay, well for the benefit of the sight-impaired, I am now raising my ... oh, dear ... yes, it's my MIDDLE finger at Mr. Postgrad here.
Interviewer: Mr. Mason ...
Ezra: Now I'm wiggling it.
Interviewer: Terminating interview at 13:58 on 03/19/75.
Ezra: Look at it wiggl-
-audio ends- — Amie Kaufman

SEPTIMUS: My lady, I was alone with my thoughts in the gazebo, when Mrs Chater ran me to ground, and I being in such a passion, in an agony of unrelieved desire
LADY CROOM: Oh ... !
SEPTIMUS:
I thought in my madness that the Chater with her skirts over her head would give me the momentary illusion of the happiness to which I dared not put a face.
(Pause.)
LADY CROOM: I do not know when I have received a more unusual compliment, Mr Hodge. I hope I am more than a match for Mrs Chater with her head in a bucket. Does she wear drawers?
SEPTIMUS: She does.
LADY CROOM: Yes, I have heard that drawers are being worn now. It is unnatural for women to be got up like jockeys. I cannot approve. — Tom Stoppard

She looked down, kicking a little clump of grass with her slipper. "I suppose you will look at me differently now."
"How so?"
"Now that you know I am not who you thought I was. Who I thought I was."
"Oh, are you not human after all?" He teased, "Are you actually a woodland water Sprite or famed West Country pixie?"
"No."
He took a step nearer.
"You are still Lady Amelia's pride and joy. Still headstrong, still a bruising rider and righter of wrongs, still the bravest and most foolish woman that I know, still determined to lead ever dance, and still and incorrigible flirt. Is that not true?"
She hesitated, torn between offense and amusement. "Yes, I...I suppose it is."
"Then you are still exactly the woman I thought."
"Very funny. — Julie Klassen

That you are young," the cat said. "And less wise than one who is old. I am wiser than you, and I say you should go. It is obvious. You should trust a wiser head than your own." "You aren't any older than I am," she countered. "I am cat," Rowl said smugly, "which means I have made better use of my time." "Oh, you're impossible," Bridget said. "Yes. Cat." Rowl rose and flowed down onto the floor. He turned to face her, curling his tail around his paws. "Why do you wish to dishonor and humiliate Wordkeeper? Would you change his name?" "No, of course not," Bridget said. "But I'm just . . . I'm not like him." "No," Rowl said. "That is what growing up is for." "I am not a child," she said. The cat looked around speculatively and then turned back to her. "Rather than do your duty, you are hiding in the darkest corner of the darkest room in your home. This is very wise. Very mature. — Jim Butcher

Here, m'lord." She put her hands over his eyes from behind. "Can you guess what I'm wearing?"
"Nothing?"
"Oh, you're so smart," she pouted, snatching her hands away. "How did you know?"
"You're very beautiful in nothing".
"Am I?" She said. "Am I truly?"
"Oh yes."
"Then shouldn't you be fucking me instead of talking? — George R R Martin

You are going, Jane?"
"I am going, sir."
"You are leaving me?"
"Yes."
"You will not come? You will not be my comforter, my rescuer? My deep love, my wild woe, my frantic prayer, are all nothing to you?"
What unutterable pathos was in his voice! How hard was it to reiterate firmly, "I am going!"
"Jane!"
"Mr. Rochester."
"Withdraw then, I consent; but remember, you leave me here in anguish. Go up to your own room, think over all I have said, and, Jane, cast a glance on my sufferings; think of me."
He turned away, he threw himself on his face on the sofa. "Oh, Jane! my hope, my love, my life!" broke in anguish from his lips. Then came a deep, strong sob. — Charlotte Bronte

I was sent here to be alive. To breathe and sweat and thirst and sometimes cry. And everything that happened to me, everything both great and small, was something I had to learn! There was room for it in the infinite mind of the Lord and I had to seek the lesson in it, no matter how hard it was to find. I almost laughed. It was so simple, so beautiful. If only I could keep it in my mind, this understanding, this moment - never forget it as one day followed another, never forget it no matter what happened, never forget it no matter what came to pass. Oh, yes, I would grow up, and there would come a time when I would leave Nazareth, surely. I would go out into the world and do what it was I was meant to do. Yes. But for now? All was clear. My fear was gone. It seemed the whole world was holding me. Why had I ever thought I was alone? I was in the embrace of the earth, of those who loved me no matter what they thought or understood, of the very stars. "Father," I said. "I am your child. — Anne Rice

You want to know something? Honestly, I was relieved. What a coward, huh?"
I don't think so."
"Oh, yes. I am. A big coward. That's why I just keep daring myself to do things I'm afraid of doing."
He had a notion. "Such things like?"
"Like bringing you up here to my room. — Michael Chabon

So Mauclair takes snuff, does he?" he asked carelessly. "'Yes, Mr. Commissary....Look, there is his snuff-box on that little shelf....Oh! he's a great snuff-taker!" "So am I," said Mifroid and put the snuff-box in his pocket. — Gaston Leroux

Is Tyson okay?" I asked. The question seemed to take my dad by surprise. He's fine. Doing much better than I expected. Though "peanut butter" is a strange battle cry. "You let him fight?" Stop changing the subject! You realize what you are asking me to do? My palace will be destroyed. "And Olympus might be saved." Do you have any idea how long I've worked on remodeling this palace? The game room alone took six hundred years. "Dad - " Very well! It shall be as you say. But my son, pray this works. "I am praying. I'm talking to you, right?" Oh ... yes. Good point. — Rick Riordan

Death turned to leave the room, but stopped when Hex began to write furiously. He went back and looked at the emerging paper.
+++ Dear Hogfather, For Hogswatch I Want
OH, NO. YOU CAN'T WRITE LETT ... Death paused, and then said, YOU CAN, CAN'T YOU.
+++ Yes. I Am Entitled +++
Death waited until the pen had stopped, and picked up the paper.
BUT YOU ARE A MACHINE. THINGS HAVE NO DESIRES. A DOORKNOB WANTS NOTHING, EVEN THOUGH IT IS A COMPLEX MACHINE.
+++ All Things Strive +++
YOU HAVE A POINT, said Death. He thought of tiny red petals in the black depths, and read to the end of the list.
I DON'T KNOW WHAT MOST OF THESE THINGS ARE. I DON'T THINK THE SACK WILL, EITHER.
+++ I Regret This +++
BUT WE WILL DO THE BEST WE CAN, said Death.
FRANKLY, I SHALL BE CLAD WHEN TONIGHT'S OVER. IT'S MUCH HARDER TO GIVE THAN TO RECEIVE. He rummaged in his sack. LET ME SEE ... HOW OLD ARE YOU? — Terry Pratchett

He thinks I will hit him. Strike him, with a large stick. Foolish mule. Oh no, I am much more cunning. I will surprise him with kindness ... until he grows calm and dispenses with all watchfulness, and then ... ha! I shall punch him in the nose! Won't he be surprised! No mule can match wits with me. Oh yes, many have tried, and almost all have failed! — Steven Erikson

One call that I never will forget came at close to four A.M., waking me; he must have just gotten up in Los Angeles. His voice said, "Alex Haley?" I said, sleepily, "Yes? Oh, hey, Malcolm!" His voice said, "I trust you seventy percent"
and then he hung up. I lay a short time thinking about him and I went back to sleep feeling warmed by that call, as I still am warmed to remember it. Neither of us ever mentioned it."
The Autobiography of Malcolm X — Alex Haley

Rhett, do you really
is it to protect me that you
"
"Yes, my dear, it is my much advertised chivalry that makes me protect you." The mocking light began to dance in his black eyes and all signs of earnestness fled from his face. "And why? Because of my deep love for you, Mrs. Kennedy. Yes, I have silently hungered and thirsted for you and worshipped you from afar; but being an honorable man, like Mr. Ashley Wilkes, I have concealed it from you. You are, alas, Frank's wife and honor has forbidden my telling this to you. But even as Mr. Wilkes' honor cracks occasionally, so mine is cracking now and I reveal my secret passion and my
"
"Oh, for God's sake, hush!" interrupted Scarlett, annoyed as usual when he made her look like a conceited fool, and not caring to have Ashley and his honor become the subject of further conversation. "What was the other thing you wanted to tell me?"
"What! You change the subject when I am baring a loving but lacerated heart? — Margaret Mitchell

Ah" said Dumbledore gently, "Yes I thought we might hit that little snag!"
"Snag?" said Fudge, his voice still vibrating with joy. "I see no snag, Dumbledore!"
"Well," said Dumbledore apologetically, "I'm afraid I do."
"Oh, really?"
"Well it's just that you seem to be labouring under the delusion that I am going to
come quietly. I am afraid I am not going to come quietly at all, Cornelius. I have absolutely no intention of being sent to Azkaban. I could break out, of course
but what a waste of time, and frankly, I can think of a whole host of things I would rather be doing. — J.K. Rowling

Cause I am a Superwoman,
Yes I am,
Yes she is,
Even when I'm a mess,
I still put on a vest,
With an S on my chest,
Oh yes,
I'm a Superwoman,
...
And all my sisters,
Coming together,
Say yes I will,
Yes I can — Alicia Keys

Speaking of my things, you weren't actually using that darling little study were you?" she
asked sweetly.
Her mate's eyes narrowed. "Why?"
"Because I am commandeering it for my closet."
"Closet? My study is over three hundred square feet." His shocked expression was adorable.
"Good point. Do you use the library as well?"
He stared unblinking. "Yes, actually I do."
"Oh well. I'll need to call in a contractor to remodel the study into functional wardrobe. — Alanea Alder

Don't want to walk around with my imagination to depend on. I have a very evil imagination. It's one of my wicked womanly powers. Much worse than magic." "Is that right?" he asked with a laugh as he turned and crossed over to her. "Oh yes. Lots of exercise involved. I can jump to conclusions in a single bound. I'm more powerful than a murder motive. I'm faster than the town gossip. I am deadly and I must be stopped. — Jacquelyn Frank

Lance rolled his eyes. "I'm already sorrier than you could possibly imagine. Now you promise me you won't interfere, or mention it to anyone, or poke your nose in, or follow Mr. Traynor along the street when he comes into town, ... "
Lily snorted. "As if I would tell anyone! You think I want it spread around that my son's into puppy play?"
Lance felt his temper supernova. Yes, that was really quite an interesting sensation, the way the cells inside his chest spontaneously burst into flame. "I AM NOT INTO PUPPY PLAY! AND HOW DO YOU EVEN KNOW THAT TERM?"
Lily waved her hand as if he was being silly. "Please. Like I was born fifty years old."
"I want to be stricken dead. Right now," Lance groaned and hid his face.
"Oh, all right. Fine! You're doing some reconnaissance in your dog form, and that's all it is, and it's none of my business, and I've always been a virgin. You and your brothers and sister were all conceived by supernatural means. Happy? — Eli Easton

So, bring on my Food, Fruit, Vegetables and Milk Security Act. Did I miss something in that? Oh yes, nuts. We do need nuts. Some nuts for all Indians, please. You know the kind of nuts I am talking about, right? — Chetan Bhagat

You're very quiet," Benedict said softly.
"I was just thinking."
"About?"
"About what I'd miss - and what I wouldn't miss - should my life drastically change."
His eyes grew intense. "And do you expect it to drastically change?"
She shook her head and tried to keep the sadness out of her voice when she answered, "No."
His voice grew so quiet it was almost a whisper. "Do you want it to change?"
"Yes," she sighed, before she could stop herself. "Oh, yes."
He took her hands and brought them to his lips, gently kissing each one in turn. "Then we shall begin right now," he vowed. "And tomorrow you shall be transformed."
"Tonight I am transformed," she whispered. "Tomorrow I shall disappear."
Benedict drew her close and dropped the softest, most fleeting of kisses onto her brow. "Then we must pack a lifetime into this very night."
-Benedict & Sophie — Julia Quinn

Oh, yes, Alice did know that she forgot things, but not how badly, or how often. When her mind started to dazzle and to puzzle, frantically trying to lay hold of something stable, then she always at once allowed herself
as she did now
to slide back into her childhood, where she dwelt pleasurably on some scene or other that she had smoothed and polished and painted over and over again with fresh colour until it was like walking into a story that began, 'Once upon a time there was a little girl called Alice, with her mother, Dorothy. One morning Alice was in the kitchen with Dorothy, who was making her favourite pudding, apple with cinnamon and brown sugar and sour cream, and little Alice said, 'Mummy, I am a good girl, aren't I? — Doris Lessing

She thought of her younger days, - the gleam which seemed always ahead, - of the vague allure which accomplishing something in the arts had always held for her. And now she was nearly fifty and she was not to know the fruition of any of those hopes.
"Oh Will, I am so disappointed," she said to that invisible comrade who was only spirit and memory. "I can only feel those things, - not do them."
Isn't motherhood, itself, an accomplishment?
She knew that she made her own answer, and yet it gave her a sense of satisfaction and peace. Will might said it. It sounded like him.
"But I've made so many mistakes ... Will ... even in that."
You are a good mother, Abbie-girl."
Yes, it gave her a sense of peace and comfort. — Bess Streeter Aldrich

I hear Your voice inside me, calling me home. Who will believe in me?

Those who know My voice.

I am not channeling. The word of God is upon my heart.

You have all you need. Stop looking to another. My Word is written within you. Ask and you shall receive. No Voice speaks clearer. Surrender to Me. Do not think what is next. It shall be shown for what it is. Listen to Me. Lest you forget, true wisdom comes only from Source.

Don't be afraid to be alone with yourself. I am here. Listen to Me as I speak clearly your name. Must you always seek to drown Me out? I am here. Hear Me now. I give you rest. Rest in Me, not in what you think. You are more than that. Oh, so much more you are. Listen to Me, listen up My dear. Hear Me clear. My words ring true like a bell. Yes, clear as a bell I speak unto you. Give Me room. Move over. Get out of your way, I say. I speak peace and love unto your heart. — Debra Clemente

I am my own worst enemy. My friends and family will say, 'You've got everything going for you right now', and I say, 'Oh yes, but!' Which is not a good way to be. — Tamsin Egerton

What to go out with me tonight after work, Vaughan?"
... "You asking me out on a date, Lydia?"
"Yes," I said. "I am."
"Babe, I'd love to." His hand rose to the back of my neck, stroking, drawing me closer. Hot damn, did he have the moves. The man turned my mind to mush.
"Something you need to know," he said. "Before tonight."
"What's that?"
"I put out on the first date," he told me with a perfectly straight face. "That okay with you?"
"Oh, I'm counting on it" ... "I mean ... it would have been so awkward if you expected me to respect you for your mind or something. Yikes, how embarrassing. Between you and me, I'm really only interested in getting into your pants."
The corner of his mouth twitched.
"I'm sure you're a nice guy and all, but, priorities, you know?"
"I know." The man's smile would have made a nun think twice. I never stood a chance. — Kylie Scott

Myron was just getting comfortable when he heard a toilet flush. He looked a question at Win. "I am not alone," Win said. "Oh." Myron adjusted himself on the couch. "A woman?" "Your gifts," Win said. "They never cease to amaze." "Anybody I know?" Myron asked. Win shook his head. "Not even somebody I know." The norm. Myron looked steadily at his friend. "You want to talk about this?" "No." "I'm here if you do." "Yes, I see that." Win swished around the drink in the snifter. He finished it in one gulp and reached for the crystal decanter. There was a slight slur in his speech. Myron tried to remember the last time he had seen Win the vegetarian, the master of several martial arts, the transcendental meditator, the man so at ease and in focus with his surroundings, have too much to drink. It had been a very long time. "I have a golf question for you," Myron said. Win nodded for him to proceed. — Harlan Coben

You too, you took an interest in the world. That was long ago. I want you to cast your mind back to then. The domain of the rules was no longer enough for you; you were unable to love any longer in the domain of the rules; so you had to enter into the domain of the struggle. I ask you to go back to that precise moment. It was long ago, no? Cast your mind back: the water was cold.
You are far from the edge, now. Oh yes! How far from the edge you are! You long believed in the existence of another shore; such is no longer the case. You go on swimming, though, and every movement you make brings you closer to drowning. You are suffocating, your lungs are on fire. The water seems colder and colder to you, more and more galling. You aren't that young anymore. Now you are going to die. Don't worry. I am here. I won't let you sink. Go on with your reading. — Michel Houellebecq

The fox speaks with the hurricane and says, "I need to travel far and fast. Can you take me?" The hurricane regards the puny fox with its huge, calm eye and asks, "What can you do for me?" "Why, I will let you whisper your dreams to me." "But I must kill whatever I carry. You are a living thing and do not wish to die." "If you do not kill me, I will listen to your inmost self, and tell all the animals, that they may feel sympathy for you." "What do I care for sympathy? I am all-powerful." "Yes, but someday, your winds will die, and my kits will tell this tale even when you are gone, of the time great-great-great-grandfather fox was carried by the winds and lived and learned their secrets." "But then they will not be afraid of me, and what good am I if I do not inspire fear?" "Oh, no living thing could ever be so strong they would not fear you. I give you something more. I give you a voice throughout time that is more than a wordless bellow of rage. — Greg Bear

She's having a party, you
know. This coming week."
He took a sip of wine. "I know. I received an invitation this morning before you arrived.
According to her flowing prose, I am to be the guest of honor." He shuddered.
Miranda couldn't help but laugh. "Yes, my mother is quite taken with you now that you're assisting us financially. I'm sure she'll fawn over you all evening."
He downed the remainder of his wine in one swig. "Dear God, now I wish I hadn't accepted the invitation."
She giggled at his twisted, pained expression. "Oh, of course you must come. Drink the wine, appreciate the orchestra. After all, you're paying for it."
Ethan's expression went from a playfully pained one to a truly pained one for a brief instant. His frown drew down and he looked at her evenly.
"No, Miranda. I believe it is you who are paying," he said softly. — Jess Michaels

Yes," he said. "I am sure. I double-checked everything after you went home yesterday.
I even made a few improvements, just in case."
The first part of that reassured her. The second part ... not so much.
"What kind of improvements?"
"Oh, nothing, really. Mostly just streamlining. You really did very well; I certainly don't want you to think that I am one of those people who has to be in control all the- Oh, well, I suppose that's actually true- I do have to be in control all the time. But only because I am in charge, of course. — Rachel Caine

You're here."
I look up at him. "I am." My voice is soft, but I can tell by the smirk on his face that he hears me just fine.
"Does that mean not really is a no then?" His face is serious now.
"Ask me again." I grin up at the handsome face that is towering over me, invading my personal space.
"Are you seeing anyone?"
"No." My response is assertive.
"Yes. You are."
I'm confused. "I am?"
"I don't share Elle."
"Oh." Oh my. — Vi Keeland

Son: Father, you are my father. You sired me. I have sired no one because I left the primordial. I left you, I studied, I suffered, and my visions were pure. Before me, my father, new horizons were opened.

Father: Yes, I am your father. I sired you and nowhere did I go. Where I was in the beginning, there I remained. I dwell in the old home, my estate is as it was. I spawned, I lived with your mother. Then I lived with peasant women and girls, spawning. I surrounded myself with chickens, roosters, turkeys. My poultry lay dozens of eggs a day. But I studied nothing, never did I suffer. My horizons remain the same, oh just the same. These spaces, ancient, veritably Russian, assembled around us are all - all just the same.

("Adam") — Andrei Bely

Why, how can you ask such a question? You are a republican."
A republican! Yes; but that word specifies nothing. Res publica; that is, the public thing. Now, whoever is interested in public affairs -- no matter under what form of government -- may call himself a republican. Even kings are republicans."
Well! You are a democrat?"
No."
What! "you would have a monarchy?"
No."
A Constitutionalist?"
God forbid."
Then you are an aristocrat?"
Not at all!"
You want a mixed form of government?"
Even less."
Then what are you?"
I am an anarchist."


Oh! I understand you; you speak satirically. This is a hit at the government."


By no means. I have just given you my serious and well-considered profession of faith. Although a firm friend of order, I am (in the full force of the term) an anarchist. Listen to me. — Pierre-Joseph Proudhon

If I may ride with you, Citizen Evremonde, will you let me hold your hand? I am not afraid, but I am little and weak, and it will give me more courage." As the patient eyes were lifted to his face, he saw a sudden doubt in them, and then astonishment. He pressed the work-worn, hunger-worn young fingers, and touched his lips.
"Are you dying for him?" she whispered.
"And his wife and child. Hush! Yes."
"Oh, you will let me hold your brave hand, stranger?"
"Hush! Yes, my poor sister; to the last. — Charles Dickens

Percy, you are dismissed from my service."
"Me? Why, my lord?"
"Why? Because, Percy, far from being a fit consort for a prince of the realm, you would bore the leggings off a village idiot. You ride a horse rather less well than another horse would. Your brain would make a grain of sand look large and ungainly, and the part of you that can't be mentioned, I am reliably informed by women around the court, wouldn't be worth mentioning even if it could be. If you put on a floppy hat and a funny codpiece, you might just get by as a fool, but since you wouldn't know a joke if it got up and gave you a haircut, I doubt it. That's why you're dismissed."
"Oh, I see."
"And as for you, Baldrick ... "
"Yes."
"You're out, too. — Richard Curtis

Russ remarked how hot it had been. I agreed it had been very hot. He said, 'Aren't you from the Congo?' I said, 'Well, I am an American citizen now, but yes - I was born in the Republic of the Congo. Why do you ask?' Russ said, 'Oh, nothing, I just figured you would be used to the heat, having lived in the jungle.' I looked Russ in his eyes, asked him, 'Are you from New Jersey?' 'Yes,' said Russ, 'born and raised.' I nodded. 'So I assume you strip down to your underwear and make out with very tan girls in hot tubs.' Russ raised an eyebrow and smiled. 'No,' he said, 'why would you think that?' I said, 'I have seen the television show Jersey Shore, so I am educated in the way all people from New Jersey live. — David Arnold

Taking into consideration all your loveliness
why can't you burn your bootsoles and your
draft card? How can you sit there saying yes
to war? You'll be a pauper when you die, sore
boy. Dead, while I still live at our addresss.
Oh my brother, why do you keep making plans
when I am at seizures of hearts and hands?
Come dance the dance, the Papa-Mama dance;
bring costumes from the suitcase pasted Ille de France,
the S.S. Gripsholm. Papa's London Harness case
he took abroad and kept i our attic laced
with old leather straps for storage and his
scholar's robes, black licorice - that metamorphosis
with it's crimson blood.
The Papa and Mama Dance — Anne Sexton

Some of us have to fight. There are great traditions of liberty to defend. I am no partisan man. Where I see the infamy I seek to erase it. Party names mean nothing. The tradition of liberty means all. The common people will let it go, oh yes. They will sell liberty for a quieter life. That is why they must be prodded, prodded-. — Anthony Burgess

The majority never has right on its side. Never, I say! That is one of these social lies against which an independent, intelligent man must wage war. Who is it that constitute the majority of the population in a country? Is it the clever folk, or the stupid? I don't imagine you will dispute the fact that at present the stupid people are in an absolutely overwhelming majority all the world over. But, good Lord! - you can never pretend that it is right that the stupid folk should govern the clever ones I (Uproar and cries.) Oh, yes - you can shout me down, I know! But you cannot answer me. The majority has might on its side - unfortunately; but right it has not. I am in the right - I and a few other scattered individuals. The minority is always in the right. (Renewed uproar.) — Henrik Ibsen

I am afraid of dying-but being dead, oh yes, that to me is often an appealing prospect. — Kathe Kollwitz

Oh, yes, her husband was hopeless, and lost things and ran late, but he took care of his wife and daughters, in that old-fashioned, responsible, I-am-the-man-and-this-is-my-job way. Bridget was right: Cecilia ruled her world, but she'd always known that if there was a crisis - a crazed gunman, a flood, a fire - John-Paul would be the one to save their lives. — Liane Moriarty

Poseidon raised his eyebrows as they shook hands. "Blowfish, did you say?"
"Ah, no. Blofis, actually."
"Oh, I see," Poseidon said. "A shame. I quite like blowfish. I am Poseidon."
"Poseidon? That's an interesting name."
"Yes, I like it. I've gone by other names, but I do prefer Poseidon."
"Like the god of the sea."
"Very much like that, yes. — Rick Riordan

I love you, Jillian. I love you, and I want this to be the start of something new."
...
"I love this life, I love you, and I want to start our lives together now."
"You're ... serious?"
"Can you handle not knowing who I was? ... Can you deal with the man I am now?"
"Yes," she whispered in a husky rasp. "Oh, yes."
"Good," he said, lowering his mouth to her throat. "Because the man I am now is who I want to be. Forever. — Larissa Ione

She says I shall now have one mouth the more to fill and two feet the more to shoe, more disturbed nights, more laborious days, and less leisure or visiting, reading, music, and drawing.
Well! This is one side of the story, to be sure, but I look at the other. Here is a sweet, fragrant mouth to kiss; here are two more feet to make music with their pattering about my nursery. Here is a soul to train for God; and the body in which it dwells is worth all it will cost, since it is the abode of a kingly tenant. I may see less of friends, but I have gained one dearer than them all, to whom, while I minister in Christ's name, I make a willing sacrifice of what little leisure for my own recreation my other darlings had left me. Yes, my precious baby, you are welcome to your mother's heart, welcome to her time, her strength, her health, her tenderest cares, to her lifelong prayers! Oh, how rich I am, how truly, how wondrously blest! — Elizabeth Payson Prentiss

Another voice rages.
I hate that boy! I hate me! I am so incredibly stupid!
A sunflower leans over the fence, smiling
How dare you!
I rip off its head and throw it in the gutter.
The smart thing to do is to keep going on. Walk away quickly and no one will know what I've done. But I can't move because my eyes are locked on the slowly opening front door - locked on Mrs Muir.
'I'm sorry.' My tiny voice sounds so pathetically lame, but I've still got more lameness for her. 'I never do this sort of thing. I like sunflowers. I was just angry about something - nothing to do with you or the flower. I'm really, really sorry.'
'Oh, you are upset! Well, never mind'. Mrs Muir comes closer to me. 'Goodness, we all get cross. The main thing is: did it make you feel any better?'
'No. Yes. Maybe. A little bit.'
'Would you like to do another one? There's more out the back, too. You go for your life dear. I don't mind at all - they need a good pruning. — Bill Condon

That's what it's going to be then, brothers, as I come to the like end of this tale. You have been everywhere with your little droog Alex, suffering with him, and you have viddied some of the most grahzny bratchnies old Bog ever made, all on to your old droog Alex. And all it was was that I was young. But now as I end this story, brothers, I am not young, not no longer, oh no. Alex like groweth up, oh yes.
But where I itty now, O my brothers, is all on my oddy knocky, where you cannot go. Tomorrow is all like sweet flowers and the turning young earth and the stars and the old Luna up there and your old droog Alex all on his oddy knocky seeking like a mate. And all that cal. A terrible grahzny vonny world, really, O my brothers. And so farewell from your little droog. And to all others in this story profound shooms of lipmusic brrrrrr. And they can kiss my sharries. But you, O my brothers, remember sometimes thy little Alex that was. Amen. And all that call. — Anthony Burgess

I live now for my work. I live for my work. I live only for my work. One day I will do work deserving of my talent & desire. One day. This I pledge. This I vow. I want you to love me for my work. But if you don't love me I can't continue my work. So please love me! - so I can continue my work. I am trapped here! I am trapped in this blond mannequin with the face. I can only breathe through that face! Those nostrils! That mouth! Help me to be perfect. If God was in us, we would be perfect. God is not in us, we know this for we are not perfect. I don't want money & fame. I want only to be perfect. The blond mannequin Monroe is me & is not me. She is not me. She is what I was born. Yes I want you to love her. So you will love me. Oh I want to love you! Where are you? I look, I look & there is no one there. — Joyce Carol Oates

Well, it is this: that Mrs. Cavendish does not care, and never has cared one little jot about Dr. Bauerstein!"
"Do you really think so?" I could not disguise my pleasure.
"I am quite sure of it. And I will tell you why."
"Yes?"
"Because she cares for some one else, mon ami."
"Oh!" What did he mean? In spite of myself, an agreeable warmth spread over me. I am not a vain man where women are concerned, but I remembered certain evidences, too lightly thought of at the time, perhaps, but which certainly seemed to indicate - - — Agatha Christie

Hapi?" I asked.
"Why, yes, I am happy!" Hapi beamed. "I'm always happy because I'm Hapi! Are you happy?"
Zia frowned up at the giant. "Does he have to be so big?"
The god laughed. Immediately he shrank down to human size, though the crazy cheerful look on his face was still pretty unnerving.
"Oh, Setne!" Hapi chuckled and pushed the ghost playfully. "I hate this guy. Absolutely despise him!"
Hapi's smile became painfully wide. "I'd love to rip off your arms and legs, Setne. That would be amazing!"
Setne ... drifted a little farther away from the smiling god.
"Oh!" Hapi clapped excitedly. "The world is going to end tomorrow. I forgot!"
"You'd never get to Memphis without my help. You'd get torn into a million pieces!"
He seemed genuinely pleased to share that news. — Rick Riordan

Blimey," said the other twin. "Are you - ?" "He is," said the first twin. "Aren't you?" he added to Harry. "What?" said Harry. "Harry Potter," chorused the twins. "Oh, him," said Harry. "I mean, yes, I am. — J.K. Rowling

It's alright" said a dreamy voice from beside Harry as Ron vanished into the coach's dark interior. "You're not going mad or anything. I can see them too."
"Can you?" said Harry desperately, turning to Luna. He could see the bat-winged horses reflected in her wide, silvery eyes.
"Oh yes," said Luna, "I've been able to see them since my first year here. They've always pulled the carriages. Don't worry. You're just as sane as I am."
Smiling faintly, she climbed into the musty interior of the carriage after Ron. Not altogether reassured, Harry followed her. — J.K. Rowling

I don't know what I can do about the aging. Yes, I am aging. Oh my God, I'm aging all the time. It's like those flowers that wilt in front of you in time-lapse films. But what can I possibly do? Look like a lunatic? — Sarah Jessica Parker

But you're dead,' said Harry.
'Oh, yes,' said Dumbledore matter-of-factly.
'Then ... am I dead too?'
'Ah,' said Dumbledore, smiling still more broadly. 'That is the question, isn't it? On the whole, dear boy, I think not. — J.K. Rowling

I fold back the sheet, get carefully up, on silent bare feet, in my nightgown, go to the window, like a child, I want to see. The moon on the breast of the new-fallen snow. The sky is clear but hard to make out, because of the searchlight; but yes, in the obscured sky a moon does float, newly, a wishing moon, a sliver of ancient rock, a goddess, a wink. The moon is a stone and the sky is full of deadly hardware, but oh God, how beautiful anyway. I want Luke here so badly. I want to be held and told my name. I want to be valued, in ways that I am not; I want to be more than valuable. I repeat my former name, remind myself of what I once could do, how others saw me. I — Margaret Atwood

Mom called," Gansey said. "Do I want to meet the governor the weekend after next because it would be great if I did and did I want to bring my friends? No, Mother, I would in fact not like that. Helen will be there! Yes, Mother, I assumed so but hardly consider it a plus, as I am worried she will kidnap Adam. Fine, fine, you don't have to, I know you're busy but oh dot dot dot et cetera et cetera. Oh, — Maggie Stiefvater

What these [personality] tests tell employers about potential employees is hard to imagine since the 'right' answer should be obvious to anyone who has ever encountered the principle of hierarchy and subordination. Do I work well with others? You bet, but never to the point where I would hesitate to inform on them for the slightest infraction. Am I capable of independent decision making? Oh yes, but I know better than to let this capacity interfere with a slavish obedience to orders ... The real function of these tests, I decide, is to convey information not to the employer but to the potential employee, and the information being conveyed is always: You will have no secrets from us. We don't just want your muscles and that portion of your brain that is directly connected to them; we want your innermost self. — Barbara Ehrenreich

You teach me now how cruel you've been - cruel and false. Why did you despise me? Why did you betray your own heart, Cathy? I have not one word of comfort. You deserve this. You have killed yourself. Yes, you may kiss me, and cry; and wring out my kisses and tears: they'll blight you - they'll damn you. You loved me - what right had you to leave me? What right - answer me - for the poor fancy you felt for Linton? Because misery, and degradation, and death, and nothing that God or Satan could inflict would have parted us, you, of your own will did it. I have no broken your heart - you have broken it; and in breaking it, you have broken mine. So much the worse for me that I am strong. Do I want to live? What kind of living will it be when you - Oh, God! would you like to lie with your soul in the grave? — Emily Bronte

I need to tell you a story.'

What about?

Zachariah, Zachariah, my foundling boy. 'A boy. A boxer, a fighting man. A brother. No. About brothers, sisters. Foundlings, laid-in-the-streets. Fights, fighting. A boy, it all begins with the boy. My love. A wolf. Peter and the Wolf! Oh dear! I am very crazy! Let me - I must tell you this story.'

Why?

'I'm frightened.'

Of?

'Fractals. Patterns.'

Ah, says the fish, looking at Rachel with his wise eyes. Chaos!

'Yes,' thinks Rachel. 'Chaos. Fearful symmetry.'

Go home, says the fish, flipping over, flashing in light, and diving down into the great blue sea. — Emma Richler

I don't think you have any control over who you are-it just happens. Sometimes in the morning I wake up and don't know who I am. I have to get out of bed and open the closet door, and then I think, oh yes, I'm the girl in the red dress. — MacDonald Harris

Your bet is only for Poser tickets, right?" he called.
And for my self-esteem,but that was splitting hairs. "Yea,that's all."
"Because if it was for more than that,I'd be sweet-talking nick right now and doing everything i could to pull out."
"Oh,no you don't!" Chloe squealed. I think she meant to board between us and shove Josh away for affect. however, she didn't have enough control to do this,so she just crossed in front of him and fell in his path, which was somewhat anticlimatic.She shouted up at him, "You need to decide whether you stand with your sister or with the sexist pigs!" Even on her butt in the snow, Chloe was a formidable force.
"yes,ma'am." Josh saluted with his mitten to his goggles. — Jennifer Echols

Very well! It shall be as you say. But my son, pray this works.
I am praying. I'm talking to you, right?
Oh ... yes. Good point. Amphitrite - incoming! — Rick Riordan

I can say it, but it doesn't seem convincing to most people. I can call it an 'injustice,' but that doesn't always sink in either. You have to understand the nature of the culture in New York. Words that are equal to the pain of the poor are pretty easily discredited. A quarter of the truth, stated with lots of indirection, is regarded as more seemly.

Even when people do accept the idea of 'injustice,' there are ways to live with it without it causing you to change a great deal in your life. A mildly embarrassed toleration of injustice is an elemental part of cultural sophistication here. the stile is, 'Oh yes. We know all that. So tell us something new.' There's a kind of cultivated weariness in this. Talking about injustice, I am told, is 'tiresome' unless you do it in a way that sounds amusing. — Jonathan Kozol

If I was to ask you tonight if you were saved? Do you say 'Yes, I am saved'. When? 'Oh so and so preached, I got baptized and ... ' Are you saved? What are you saved from, hell? Are you saved from bitterness? Are you saved from lust? Are you saved from cheating? Are you saved from lying? Are you saved from bad manners? Are you saved from rebellion against your parents? Come on, what are you saved from? — Leonard Ravenhill

She turns in the doorway. "Oh, and Galen?"
"Yes, ma'am?"
"Have your mother call me so I can get her number programmed into my phone."
"Yes, ma'am."
"You kids have a good time. I won't be home until late, Emma. But you'll be home by nine, sweetie. Won't she, Galen?"
"Yes, ma'am."
Neither Emma nor Galen say anything until they hear the car pull out of the driveway. Even then, they wait a few more seconds. Emma leans against the fridge. Galen is growing fond of hiding his hands in his pockets.
"So, what did you two chitchat about?" she asks as if uninterested.
"You first."
She shakes her head. "Uh-uh. I don't want to talk about it."
He nods. "Good. Me neither."
For a few seconds, they look at everything in the room but each other. Finally, Galen says, "So, did you want to go change-"
"That idea is fan-flipping-tastic. Be right down." She almost breaks into a run to get to the stairs. — Anna Banks

But now as I end this story, brothers, I am not young, not no longer, oh no. Alex like groweth up, oh yes. — Anthony Burgess

Josh: "Mutley, my dog."
Shel: "I am not getting in the car with that."
Josh: "Yes, you are."
Shel: "No, I'm not. He's huge."
Josh: "He's harmless."
Shel: "Like his owner?"
Josh: "Oh, no, he's harmless. I'm not. — Ella Frank

You happened to find the Tezumen one day and decided, I think I recall your words correctly, that they were 'a bunch of Stone-Age no-hopers sitting around in a swamp being no trouble to anyone', am I right? Whereupon you entered the mind of one of their high priests - I believe at that time they worshipped a small stick - drove him insane and inspired the tribes to unite, terrorise their neighbours and bring forth upon the continent a new nation dedicated to the proposition that all men should be taken to the top of ceremonial pyramids and be chopped up with stone knives." The King pulled his notes towards him. "Oh yes, some of them were also to be flayed alive," he added. Quezovercoatl — Terry Pratchett

At times one wanders, doubting the facts, even when one has discovered the secrets of the good life. To be sure, my solution is not the ideal.
But when you don't like your own life, when you know that you must change lives, you don't have any choice, do you? What can one do to become
another?Impossible. One would have to cease being anyone, forget oneself for someone else, at least once.But how? Don't bear down too hard on me.
I am like that old beggar who wouldn't let go of my hand one day on a cafe terrace: Oh, sir,he said, its not just that I am no good, but you lose
track of the light.Yes, we have lost track of the light, the mornings, the holy innocence of those who forgive themselves. — Albert Camus

Capitalistic Anarchism ? Oh, yes, if you choose to call it so. Names are indifferent to me; I am not afraid of bugaboos. Let it be so, then, capitalistic Anarchism. — Voltairine De Cleyre

Foreign, eh?" Hetty frowned. "Then I am glad Mr. Pinter is looking into his background. You have to be careful with foreigners."
"Right. I wouldn't want to rush into marriage with a stranger," Celia said tartly. "Oh, wait, yes, I would. My grandmother has dictated that I must."
Hetty stifled a smile. "Sarcasm does not become you, dear girl."
"Draconian ultimatums don't become you, Gran."
"Complain if you must, but I still mean to see you married by year's end. — Sabrina Jeffries

?-: Yes, I must say, that part distressed me a bit. I had no idea girls could do that ...
(JUNE and RUTH look at him.)
RUTH: Do what, exactly?
?-: Be nude. I thought they just spontaneously combusted or something if they even tried taking off their sweaters.
JUNE: But, how did you think we bathed?
?-: I just assumed you just never got dirty, with the exception of your hair. You know, cause girls are always washing their hair ...
JUNE: But this is ridiculous. How did you think sex happened?
?-: To be honest, I'd never really thought about sex. Oh, dear ... Am I going to have to do that someday? Are we? I need to read up on this.
(He takes out a memorandum and begins scribbling.) — Benjamin R. Smith

My, I was scared!" Said Billy with a deep breath.
Scared?" Questioned Elnora.
Yes, sir-ee! Aunt Margaret scared me. May i ask you a question?"
Of course, you may!"
Is that man going to be you beau?"
Billy! No! What made you think such a thing?"
Aunt Margaret said likely he would fall in love with you, and you wouldn't want me around any more. Oh, but I was scared! It isn't so, is it?"
Indeed, no!"
I am your beau, ain't I?"
Surely you are!" said Elnora, tightening her arm.
I hope Aunt Kate has ginger cookies," said Billy with a little skip of delight. — Gene Stratton-Porter

Celeste walked up, as strong as I'd ever seen her, and whispered something into Maxon's ear.
When she was done, he smiled. "I don't think that will be necessary."
"Good." She left, closing the door behind her, and I stood to take whatever was coming.
"What was that about?" I asked, nodding toward the door.
"Oh, Celeste was making it clear that if I hurt you, she'd make me cry," he said with a smile.
I laughed. "I've been on the receiving end of those nails, so be careful there."
"Yes, ma'am. — Kiera Cass

What is it with these people? They are more obsessed with me finding a girlfriend than I am.
"He's concentrating on his studies," says Mum proudly.
"Ah," says Mr Coles. "I should've done that, but at his age I was out on the town, living it up. Best days of my life, they were."
"Oh yes, mine too," says Mum with a weird twinkle in her eye.
I wonder how easy it is to kill two people with a screwdriver and a bag of half-frozen peas. — J.A. Buckle

Four! I call out. Why am I calling a number? Oh yes. Because that's his name. - Tris. — Veronica Roth

It will just upset you."
No my freaking way! He didn't just tell me I'm weak to him, did he?
"Yes, Ian. Thanks for reminding me I am just a dang girl in your eyes." A string of not ladylike curse words went across the marquee of my brain.
"Be reasonable," he snipped out at me.
Oh.No.He.Didn't. "Reasonable caught a train to Canada. Meet her peeved counterpart who wants to snap boy parts off and sterilize them to spare the future generations of learning that equal doesn't mean jack squat." - Grace — Cyndi Goodgame

Here I am now. And it is hell. Paradise? Yes, I still am here, but who? only myself, with my small waist, my small soul, my small arms, my small intelligence pushed to its greatest heights and thus ruthlessly able to see itself shut up inside its supple transparent but oh ruthlessly inflexible membrane, if I push it any farther it will burst its envelope, I am going to lose part of my mind, we will not longer steer clear of madness. — Helene Cixous

Can't you get a guard or something to take me to the bathroom?" I asked.
"I am the guard," Ludlow snapped, sounding huffy.
"Oh,really?" I smirked at him, realizing this might be far easier than I thought.
"Don't underestimate me, Princess," Ludlow growled. "I eat girls like you for breakfast."
"So you're a cannibal?" I wrinkled my nose.
"Ludlow, are you harassing the poor girl?" came a voice from behind Ludlow. He moved to the side, and through the slot I saw Loki swaggering toward us.
"She's harassing me," Ludlow complained.
"Yes,talking to a beautiful Princess-what a rough lot you have in life," Loki said dryly, and Matt snorted behind me. — Amanda Hocking

Oh, how happy I am to have found it at last. Yes! It's all vanity, it's all an illusion, everything except that infinite sky. — Leo Tolstoy

Michaels gently extracted his hand, patting hers. "I just showered, so I'm sure they're clean. It's fine, I promise." She smiled sweetly. "Oh, okay. I hope Judge, Jr. wasn't too hard on you last night." Michaels looked up at Judge over Linda's head. His eyes twinkling with amusement. "Oh, yes ma'am. He was very hard." Judge's — A.E. Via

Oh, Professor Lyall, are you making a funny? It doesn't suit you."
The sandy-haired Beta gave Lady Maccon a dour look. "I am exploring new personality avenues."
"Well, stop it."
"Yes, my lady. — Gail Carriger

I am constructing here a commonsensical book from which nothing at all can be learned. There are, to be sure, persons who wish to extract from books guiding principles for their lives. For this most estimable individual I am therefore, to my gigantic regret, not writing. Is that a pity? Oh yes. O you driest, most upright, virtuous and respectable, kindest, quietest of adventurers- slumber sweetly, for the while. — Robert Walser