Orange Girl Quotes & Sayings

Finn, do you see the lias - whatever, the orange-haired girl?" Razo Gestured ahead. "Do you think she's pretty?"
Finn glanced Dasha's way, then returned his attention ot his horse. "She's all right."
"Really? Just all right?"
Finn shrugged.
Razo rolled his eyes. "What am I saying? He doesn't think any girl is pretty but Enna."
"Are there any girls but Enna?" Finn called back.
"There'd better be. — Shannon Hale

I had to say it gave me a warm feeling to picture Meredith Winslow spending twenty years or so in an ill fitting orange jumpsuit, cozying up to a great big girl named Beulah — Kate Carlisle

Sometimes, when I'm having a sort-through or a clear-out, I find photos of my youth, and it's a shock to see everything on black and white. I think my granddaughter believes we were actually grey-skinned, with dull hair, always posing in a shadowed landscape. But I remember the town as being almost too bright to look at when I was a girl. I remember the deep blue of the sky and the dark green of the pines cutting through it, the bright red of the local brick houses and the orange carpet of pine needles under our feet. Nowadays - though I'm not sure the sky is still occasionally blue and most of the houses are still there, and the trees still drop their needles - nowadays, the colours seem faded, as if I live in an old photograph. — Emma Healey

I know a fat girl, she wears an orange skirt. You give her twenty dollars and you can do your work. — LL Cool J

In water so fine, a few minutes of bad memory all but disappear downstream, washed away by ten thousand belly busters, a million cannonballs. Paradise was never heaven-high when I was a boy but waist-deep, an oasis of cutoff blue jeans and raggedy Converse sneakers, sweating bottles of Nehi Grape and Orange Crush, and this stream. I remember the antidote of icy water against my blistered skin, and the taste of mushy tomato and mayonnaise sandwiches, unwrapped from twice-used aluminum foil. I saw my first water moccasin here, and my first real girl, and being a child of the foot washers I have sometimes wondered if this was my Eden, and my serpent. If it was, I didn't hold out any longer than that first poor fool did. — Rick Bragg

Everything on television announced a new and better India for women. Her favorite Tamil soap opera was about an educated single girl who worked in an office. In her favorite commercials, a South Indian movie siren named Asin was recommending, along with Mirinda orange soda, more fun, a little wildness. This new India of feisty, convention-defying women wasn't a place Meena knew how to get to. — Katherine Boo

I once knew a girl who didn't know where anywhere was in the world. Not a clue. I asked her if she knew where Africa was and she answered, 'Is it the orange one on a map?' — Matt Roper

A young girl, no older than fourteen, her hair dyed green and orange and pink, stared at them as they went by. She sat beside a dog, a mongrel, with a piece of string for a collar and a leash. She looked hungrier than the dog did. The dog yapped at them, then wagged its tail. Shadow gave the girl a dollar bill. She stared at it as if she was not sure what it was. 'Buy dog food with it,' Shadow suggested. She nodded, and smiled. — Neil Gaiman

Well, every girl with half a brain knows there's only one thing to do when you break up with your man - "
"No, we didn't break up - " Luce said, at the exact same time as Shelby said:
"Change your hair."
"Change my hair?"
"Fresh start," Shelby said. "I've dyed mine orange, chopped it off. Hell, once I even shaved it after this jerk really broke my heart. — Lauren Kate

If a boy gives a girl an orange her love for him will multiply. — Jandy Nelson

The orange-red lipstick named "Hibiscus Frenzy" that was produced by a giant American corporation, which Glamora was paid to wear so that every factory and office girl in England and America and possibly Australia who aspired to look like her would buy it, glowed under the sun. — Ilil Arbel

If you were my girl," he says, but there's an explosion outside in the courtyard, and I miss the punchline. Fireworks crackle in showers of pink, green, blue, white, green, pink, orange. The museum-goers on the escalators heading upwards erupt in a frenzy of applause as we continue heading down. "If you were my girl," Josh says, pressing his nose against my ear. I turn my head, and the lights and the noise and the people disappear. The distance between us disappears.
Our kiss was anything but shy. — Stephanie Perkins

I'm just an Orange County girl from a loving family making music with my friends. It's not really that big of a deal. — Gwen Stefani

When I was a little girl, I remember carrying my orange UNICEF carton with me as I went Trick-or-Treating. — Brandy Norwood

One night, the Duarte girl, sang poems set to music in a voice so clear I felt my soul rise up inside my ear. In a garden of clematis, with servants dressed like Gypsies placing candles in the trees, we assembled on the grass, between a Belgian wood and {the Duchess of Lorraine}'s glassy pond. In a pale orange gown I read two pieces I'd prepared...When the ladies clapped their approval in the dark, everything, to me, was suddenly bright and near. — Danielle Dutton

His in-house intercom greeted him with a cheery 'Welcome home, Bart,' and his server droid - custom-made to replicate Princess Leia, classic 'Star Wars,' slave-girl mode (he was a nerd, but he was still a guy) - strolled out to offer him his favorite orange fizzy with crushed ice. — J.D. Robb

Ever since I was a girl, I have written about one to five pages every day - on napkins, on scrap paper, in notebooks and tablets, on the walls in my room as a teenager, and in orange paint on the cheap white plastic blinds in my room. — Roseanne Barr

I have one mascara that I use religiously, and I refuse to try anything else, and if they discontinued it I would probably cry. Cover Girl lash blast, in the orange tube. — Nina Dobrev

Autumn comes
like a buyer of cloth,
her long fingers
touching,
turning orange,
yellow, brown.

taking what she wants,
stretching
the bone taut air.

Her skin crackles beneath
our feet.

I didn't think anyone wanted me,

bruises pulled
like a sweater around
my neck.

We talk
in the pore tightening air,
branches bare,
about the girl buried in the chill
of prewinter.

We show each other
our mutilated children
in the guise of women
as autumn plucks
at our lips.

Each color,
blue, black, ochre
popping like kisses
on the rib lined flesh,
the puberty soft things.

And we muse
how women
keep bruises
hidden
beneath dead
leaves. — Janice Mirikitani

a girl in a lemon-coloured shirt sat at a desk, with word processor, potted plant, mug of pencils, furry gonk, and wadges of orange paper. — Hugh Laurie

I will not dream anymore, you said. I will not set myself up for the pain. But then your team made the playoffs, or you saw a movie, or a billboard glowing dusky orange and advertising Aruba, or a girl who bore more than a passing resemblance to a woman you'd dated in high school - a woman you'd loved and lost - danced above you with shimmering eyes, and you said, fuck it, let's dream just one more time. — Dennis Lehane

I see the glow before I see her. The orange light is so strong it's hard to believe the house isn't on fire, but when feet appear at the top of the staircase, I can finally see that the light isn't coming from the house. It's coming from her.
My heart beats so fast I can't tell the pulses apart - it's one harsh thrum inside my head. If I'm a Smurf, this girl is an Oompa Loompa. No. Not even. It looks like she walked out of a horror movie. She really is on fire, burning from the inside out.
I'm staring, but I can't help it. Everyone would be staring if they could see what I see. — Erica Cameron

This is what Liza knows: People go under. They fall off the world, they go beneath and drown and die. Sometimes, nothing saves you ... Liza knows how black the world is, how fast it spins, and how you have to take the taste of apples and the smell of your little girl's orange zest shampoo where you find them. You have to hold these things and strive, always, for one more word and one more step. You push forward and you fight, for as long as ever you can, until the black world spins and the moon pulls the tide and the water rises up and takes you. — Joshilyn Jackson

That night my mother had what she considered a wonderful dream. She dreamed of the country of India, where she had never been. There were orange traffic cones and beautiful lapis lazuli insects with mandibles of gold. A young girl was being led through the streets. She was taken to a pyre where she was wound in a sheet and placed up on a platform built from sticks. The bright fire that consumed her brought my mother into that deep, light, dreamlike bliss. The girl was being burned alive, but, first, there had been her body, clean and whole. — Alice Sebold

Once upon a time there was a little girl, and she told a lie to her friend's brother so that her friend's brother drove her to the bus station.

She brought with her a bottle of orange soda, fifty dollars (half in change), sparkly slippers, and her cell phone.

He thought he was helping.

So did she. — Holly Black

What?" The word exploded out of me. "What do you want me to tell you? You want to hear about how they tied us up like animals to bring us into the camp - or, hey! How about that time a PSF once beat in a girl's skull so badly she actually lost an eye? You want to know what it was like to drink rotten water for an entire summer until new pipes finally came? How I woke up afraid and went to bed in terror every single day for six years? For God's sake, leave me alone! Why do you always have to dig and dig when you know I don't want to talk about it? — Alexandra Bracken

She'd wanted to completely shave her head: I don't want long hair, I don't want short hair, I don't want hair at all, and I don't want to be a girl or a boy, I want to be a yellow and orange leaf some little kid picks up and pastes in his scrapbook. — Sherman Alexie

Mandy loved the smell of a sunny day after a night of rain. The sun hit the orange puddles, the overgrown, soft, green grass on her lawn, and it beamed down through the orange steel mill smog, sending otherworldly, bizarre shadows across the concrete sidewalk. — Rebecca McNutt

One of my biggest inspirations growing up was Whitney Houston, so I was devastated to hear about her passing. I'm from East Orange, New Jersey, and started singing at New Hope Baptist Church, so she was like my fellow Jersey girl. — Naturi Naughton

The Americans fished on, not hoping for much anymore, perhaps for a miracle, searching for small things to be happy about, because they were Americans and this was what their upbringings had taught them to do. They found a brief happiness, for example, in the potato chips that came to their rooms on expensive china and in the genuinely hopeful way the hotel girl asked if they'd had any luck. They took pleasure in their morning calls to the Lufthansa man, his wriggly explanations for the canceled flights to Norway. They smiled at the way a church had been built so the setting sun hit it high and perfect and orange, and the way they could follow the river to a park where miniskirted women lay in the grass with headphones clamped over their ears, and even at the way the little student-girls came filing down at noon behind their English-teaching beauty to call them fools. — Anthony Doerr

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

Somewhere in the city, an orange cat finished chewing on a marjoram plant next to his studio apartment's door and leapt purring onto the shoulder of his owner, home early from work. Somewhere in the city, a young Chinese pianist sat down at a rehearsal hall and let his fingers play the first opening notes of the Emperor Concerto, notes that would envelop the small girl in row D of the Philharmonic that night in a shimmering cloud. A boy in Staten Island touched his finger to the lower back of the girl who had been just a friend until then. A woman in Hell's Kitchen stood in her dark attic garret, her paintbrush in hand, and stepped back from the painting of chartreuse highway and forest-green sky that had taken her two years to complete. A clerk in a Brooklyn bodega tapped her crimson fingernail on a box of gripe water, reassuring the new mother holding a wailing baby, and the mother's grateful smile almost made both of them cry themselves. — Stephanie Clifford

The Mania Speaks


You clumsy bootlegger. Little daffodil.
I watered you with an ocean and you plucked one little vein?
Downed a couple bottles of pills and got yourself carted off to the ER?
I gifted you the will of gunpowder, a matchstick tongue, and all you managed
was a shredded sweater and a police warning?
You should be legend by now.
Girl in an orange jumpsuit, a headline.
I built you from the purest napalm, fed you wine and bourbon.
Preened you in the dark, hammered lullabies into your thin skull.
I painted over the walls, wrote the poems. I shook your goddamn boots.
Now you want out? Think you'll wrestle me out of you with prescriptions?
A good man's good love and some breathing exercises?
You think I can't tame that? I always come home. Always.
Ravenous. Loaded. You know better than anybody:
I'm bigger than God. — Jeanann Verlee

Women became almost our bigger audience. Teenage girls went crazy for my movie. I saw it. I went to theatres all over and there were gangs of girls going and screaming. There were kids that were 10 or 11 years old when September 11 happened. They've been told for years they're going to get killed, they're going to get blown up. Every time you go on an airplane, X-ray your shoes because you're going to get blown up. Terror alert orange, don't travel. So, people have a reaction and they want to scream. Horror movies have become the new date movie. — Eli Roth

When life gives you lemons, do NOT make lemonade. Lemonade is for losers. Make orange juice instead. — Neshialy S.

You know, they did let you have that room," I said. "In fact, I think they're assuming you'll use it, as opposed to lingering in strange hallways."
She responded to me with, "Girl, I am bored outta my tits."
"Can we have one cross-country quest without talking about your tits?"
Her pretty dark eyes went narrow and thoughtful, and she caressed her cheek with a long fingernail colored jack-o'-lantern orange. After a thoughtful pause, she shook her head. "I don't
see how."
"I figured. — MaryJanice Davidson

CHILDHOOD I That idol, black eyes and yellow mop, without parents or court, nobler than Mexican and Flemish fables; his domain, insolent azure and verdure, runs over beaches called by the shipless waves, names ferociously Greek, Slav, Celt. At the border of the forest - dream flowers tinkle, flash, and flare, - the girl with orange lips, knees crossed in the clear flood that gushes from the fields, nakedness shaded, traversed, dressed by rainbow, flora, sea. Ladies who stroll on terraces adjacent to the sea; baby girls and giantesses, superb blacks in the verdigris moss, jewels upright on the rich ground of groves and little thawed gardens, - young mothers and big sisters with eyes full of pilgrimages, sultanas, princesses tyrannical of costume and carriage, little foreign misses and young ladies gently unhappy. What boredom, the hour of the "dear body" and "dear heart." II — Arthur Rimbaud

Outside on the sidewalk, I stop in my tracks. The sun is setting. It's like fire in the sky. Bright. Brilliant. Orange. The four guys stand with me in awed silence. They know how much Bright Side loved to watch the sunset. My smile grows as the sun makes its final descent and plunges us into darkness. Bright Side was definitely in charge tonight. "That's my girl. — Kim Holden