Pretty Little Girl Quotes & Sayings

Riley Carlson: So I guess I know what you wanted to tell me. I mean, you made it pretty clear that you don't want to go out with an average girl.
Marc Hudson: That's right, I don't. I want to go out with YOU. There's nothing average about you, Riley. — Megan Stine

Lady Gaga is still a human being, she was still among us! But now, she's a little monster, she says. She does her face a certain way. It's pretty startling. But she's a great girl. She's cool from what I remember. — Kerry Rhodes

Music is my girlfriend, pretty much. It's makes it a little difficult, but I'm always looking, looking for the right girl. — Shwayze

Perhaps, deep down inside that rugged shell of yours, there is a little girl desperately waiting for her Prince Charming to propose."

"Of course there is. Only until now, I'd been pretty successful at keeping that little brat's mouth shut. — Sylvain Neuvel

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

My reading is dead!' Pilar gasped. The little girl held the fourth grade reading book, rigid as a stillborn, across her open palms as if pleading with the pretty gringa teacher to take the burden away. — Janiece Hopper

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

You know I'm old in some ways-in others-well, I'm just a little girl. I like sunshine and pretty things and cheerfulness-and I dread responsibility. — F Scott Fitzgerald

Varun might be a total manwhore, but he was a manwhore who took pride in his ability to fuck a partner into near incoherence. A fact Cash had heard about more than once, and not from his buddy.
Seriously. Girls couldn't stop themselves from telling him what a great lay his friend was. It was enough to make a dude a little curious actually. Cash didn't have any doubt about his own abilities in the sack, mostly because he got off on seeing and hearing a girl get more and more turned on by what he did. Plus, he was willing to do pretty much anything she wanted to get off.
He didn't know if chicks ran around bragging about banging him afterward, though. Huh — Amy Jo Cousins

All of this time, I thought you were just some pretty girl from Bellhaven who stole jewels to get her fathe's attentiin. Little did I know that the blond-haired girl was Queen of the Underworld. — Sarah J. Maas

You want to hear it? Fine. It's a simple story really, about a pretty girl who was pretty stupid. She let a man touch her because she was scared to say no, and then she told her parents because she was scared to say nothing. Then they were scared to do anything that might ruin their pretty little lives, so they told the girl that it was nothing. That just being touched wasn't enough to fight for. Too scared to prove them wrong, she kept going like it was nothing, and she let more people touch her, never knowing that she was handing out pieces of herself. Or, hell, maybe she knew deep down, and she just hated herself so much that she was glad to be rid of them. And life wasn't pretty, but it also wasn't scary until she met a man with two names who touched her without taking and made her miss the pieces she had lost. And now things aren't just scary, they're fucking terrifying, and I can't do it. I can't live like this, knowing all that I've ruined and that it can't be fixed. — Cora Carmack

I was hoping Betsy Nash would disappear. Literally. She was so insubstantial, I could imagine her slowly evaporating, leaving only a sticky spot on the edge of the sofa. But she lingered, eyes darting between me and her husband before we even began speaking. Like she was winding up for the conversation. The children, too, hovered about, little blonde ghosts trapped in a limbo between indolence and stupidity. The pretty girl might do all right. But the piggy middle child, who now waddled dazedly into the room, was destined for needy sex and snack-cake bingeing. The boy was the type who'd end up drinking in gas-station parking lots. The kind of angry, bored kid I saw on my way into town. — Gillian Flynn

Culture and society determined sexual desirability as what makes us important so long that it's part of our sensibility from birth.Little girls know. From around 2 or 3, the pretty ones already know how and why they get attention. And how quickly they learn to play it. Use it. And how quickly the rest of us figure out we don't have it. — Cris Mazza

I suppose there's a time in practically every young boy's life when he's affected by that wonderful disease of puppy love. I don't mean the kind a boy has for the pretty little girl that lives down the road. I mean the real kind, the kind that has four small feet and a wiggly tail, and sharp little teeth that can gnaw on a boy's finger; the kind a boy can romp and play with, even eat and sleep with. — Wilson Rawls

What is it about possessing things? Why do we feel the need to own what we love, and why do we become jerks when we do? We've all been there- you want something, to possess it. By possessing something you lose it. You finally win the girl of your dreams, the first thing you do is change her. The little things she does with her hair, the way she wears her clothes or the way she chews her gum. Pretty soon what you like, what you changed, what you don't like, blends together like a watercolor in the rain. — Jeff Melvoin

And so seated next to my father in the train compartment, I suddenly asked, "Father, what is sexsin?"
He turned to look at me, as he always did when answering a question, but to my surprise he said nothing. At last he stood up, lifted his traveling case off the floor and set it on the floor.
Will you carry it off the train, Corrie?" he said.
I stood up and tugged at it. It was crammed with the watches and spare parts he had purchased that morning.
It's too heavy," I said.
Yes," he said, "and it would be a pretty poor father who would ask his little girl to carry such a load. It's the same way, Corrie, with knowledge. Some knowledge is too heavy for children. When you are older and stronger, you can bear it. For now you must trust me to carry it for you. — Corrie Ten Boom

As she grew older, Maddy discovered that she had disappointed almost everyone. An awkward girl with a sullen mouth, a curtain of hair, and a tendency to slouch, she had neither Mae's sweet nature nor sweet face. Her eyes were rather beautiful, but few people ever noticed this, and it was widely believed Maddy was ugly, a troublemaker, too clever for her own good, too stubborn - or too slack - to change.
Of course, folk agreed that it was not her fault she was so brown or her sister so pretty, but a smile costs nothing, as the saying goes, and if only the girl had made an effort once in a while, or even showed a little gratitude for all the help and free advice, then maybe she would have settled down. — Joanne Harris

My child has changed things for me. Lately, I really wish there were greater roles for women. I think I see it in a different way now. I look at my little girl and I don't want her to think that all she has to be is pretty and quiet. — Brooke Smith

One other thing I just thought of. One time, in this movie, Jane did something that just about knocked me out. The newsreel was on or something, and all of a sudden I felt this hand on the back of my neck, and it was Jane's. It was a funny thing to do. I mean she was quite young and all, and most girls if you see them putting their hand on the back of somebody's neck, they're around twenty-five or thirty and usually they're doing it to their husband or their little kid
I do it to my kid sister Phoebe once in a while, for instance. But if a girl's quite young and all and she does it, it's so pretty it just about kills you. — J.D. Salinger

I'm trying to learn that in my Christian walk as well. If I'll move to the beat of the Spirit and relinquish control of my life to Him, I'll be able to dance to the music God has playing in His head rather than movin' and agroovin' to the catchy little tunes I've got going in my own. For when I allow the Lord to provide the accompaniment to my life, I discover a richly layered soundtrack more beautiful than anything I could compose myself. But following God's beat, dancing to His rhythm, trusting in His sovereignty - all that can be hard for a rhythmically challenged, control-loving person like me. Because when it comes right down to it, I'm a headstrong little girl who wants her own way in pretty much every area of life. Fortunately, I have a Father who loves me in spite of that. But while He loves me as I am, He also loves me too much to leave me that way. So He insists I follow His lead in order to "grow up" in my salvation (1 Peter 2:2). Becoming more like Jesus and less like me. — Joanna Weaver

Well, until next time.' Sadie threw her arms around Annabeth. Annabeth was a little shocked to be getting a hug from a girl she'd just met - a girl who could just as easily have seen Annabeth as an enemy. But the gesture made her feel good. In life-and-death situations, Annabeth had learned, you could make friends pretty quickly. She patted Sadie's shoulder. 'Stay safe. — Rick Riordan

I was in line at a store and there was a little girl, she was standing in line next to me and some other girls had come up to me and recognized me from 'Pretty Little Liars.' When they walked away, this girl was staring at me, and her eyes got so big, and she started crying. It was, like, the cutest thing. — Bianca Lawson

I don't believe in love, I believe in fucking. It's honest, it's efficient. You get in and out with maximum of pleasure and a minimum of bullshit. Love is something that straight people tell themselves they're in, so they can get laid. And they end up hurting each other, because it was all based on lies to begin with. If that is what you want, then go and find yourself a pretty little girl, and get married. — Brian Kinney

Are you serious?" She asked. "Are you telling me you've got superpowers? 'Cause that'd be pretty much be made of awesome." She grinned at me and shook in her excited, trembly way.
"Um. Yeah. Kind of. I mean, I'm just learning how to use them, and they're kind of fickle
but they came in handy tonight, didn't they?"
"Heck, yeah, they did!" April squealed. "Did you see the look on that guy's face when he hit the ground? Seriously, that was the coolest thing ever. He was all like, 'come here defenseless little girl,' and you were like,'BAM! Take that suck-face! I've got superpowers! — Bree Despain

She was a pretty girl, and I was moved by her prettiness. Her hair was brown at the verge of red, and curly. Her face was still a little freckled. But it was her eyes that most impressed me. They were nearly black and had a liquid luster. The brief, laughing look that she had given me made me feel extraordinarily seen, as if after that I might be visible in the dark. — Wendell Berry

One stood behind me and ran her hands down my chest, her breasts rubbing against my back. The next stood in front of me holding onto my shirt and pulling me close to her as she ground into me seductively. The third danced slowly and seductively with the second girl, giving the girl-on-girl effect. I knew I was going to burst at any moment, so I had to close my eyes and take repeated deep breaths to calm down.
"What's the matter Aid-man, you feeling a little frustrated?" Dixon boasted from under his lap dancer.
"Shut up Dixon." Though I didn't really want him to shut up, his teasing was distracting me pretty well. "I'm going to kill you for this."
"Oh no little man!" He laughed loudly. "Thank your future wife! That one is on her!" he howled. — Sadie Grubor

when your little girl
asks you if she's pretty
your heart will drop like a wineglass
on the hardwood floor
part of you will want to say
of course you are, don't ever question it
and the other part
the part that is clawing at
you
will want to grab her by her shoulders
look straight into the wells of
her eyes until they echo back to you
and say
you do not have to be if you don't want to
it is not your job
both will feel right
one will feel better
she will only understand the first
when she wants to cut her hair off
or wear her brother's clothes
you will feel the words in your
mouth like marbles
you do not have to be pretty if you don't want to
it is not your job — Caitlyn Siehl

Stop sucking your finger," Gawyn said with a grin. "We know you are a pretty little girl; you do not need to prove it to us. — Robert Jordan

It's Okay, Mom." The little girl grinned impishly. "Max will be pretty with pink nails."
"Oh I brought my A-game," the vampire snorted as he sat on the other couch.
"Bout Time," Janie retorted — Rebecca Zanetti

Never trust a pretty girl with an ugly secret. — Sara Shepard

What an unreliable thing is time
when I want it to fly, the hours stick to me like glue. And what a changeable thing, too. Time is the twine to tie our lives into parcels of years and months. Or a rubber band stretched to suit our fancy. Time can be the pretty ribbon in a little girl's hair. Or the lines in your face, stealing your youthful colour and your hair ... But in the end, time is a noose around the neck, strangling slowly. — Rohinton Mistry

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

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

Plus, I know for a fact that Governor Cruel won't allow them to keep us." Pip sneered at her. "You're about to learn a harsh lesson, little girl. You're nothing to him. Just another replaceable whore." He raked a harsh glare over her body. "Probably not even that. I've heard his tastes run more along the line of pretty young boys." She met his glare with one of her own. "You know nothing about him. And if you refer to him again with anything other than the utmost respect in your tone, you won't have to worry about prison or the League. I'll fucking kill you with my own bare hands." Those words had the effect she wanted them to. Everyone sucked their breath in and held it. No one had ever heard her use such language before. It wasn't in her nature. But she was through watching others insult Darling when all he'd ever done was try to help them. Her — Sherrilyn Kenyon

I'm not really a girly girl, so for the most part, I'm really into wearing baggy clothes. A little on the grungy side of things for the dance world. I'm not really into the tutus or the flower hair clips, either. As dancers, we're pretty much next to naked with each other all day, so you kind of get used to being not so clothed. — Sarah Hay

Sourwood Mountain

Chickens a-crowin' on Sourwood Mountain,
Hey, ho, diddle-um day.
So many pretty girls I can't count 'em,
Hey ho, diddle-um day.

My true love's a blue-eyed daisy,
She won't come and I'm too lazy.

Big dog bark and little one bite you,
Big girl court and little one spite you.

My true love's a blue-eyed daisy,
If I don't get her, I'll go crazy.

My true love lives at the head of the holler,
She won't come and I won't foller.

My true love lives over the river,
A few more jumps and I'll be with her.

Ducks in the pond, geese in the ocean,
Devil's in the women if they take a notion. — Unknown

When I was, like, 5 years old, I used to pray to have light skin because I would always hear how pretty that little light skin girl was, or I would hear I was pretty to be dark skin. It wasn't until I was 13 that I really learned to appreciate my skin color and know that I was beautiful. — Keke Palmer

I hug her one more time and pull her down to the bed. And in my mind, I rise up from the bed and look down on us, and look down at everybody else in this hospital who might have the good fortune of holding a pretty girl right now, and then at the entire Brooklyn block, and then the neighborhood, and then Brooklyn, and then New York City, and then the whole Tri-State Area, and then this little corner of America- with laser eyes I can see into every house- and then the whole country and the hemisphere and now the whole stupid world, everyone in every bed, couch, futon, chair, hammock, love seat, and tent, everyone kissing or touching eachother ... and i know that i'm the happiest of all of them. — Ned Vizzini

She remembered that once, when she was a little girl, she had seen a pretty young woman with golden hair down to her knees in a long flowered dress, and had said to her, without thinking, "Are you a princess?" The girl had laughed very kindly at her and asked her what her name was. Blanche remembered going away from her, led by her mother's hand, thinking to herself that the girl really was a princess, but in disguise. And she had resolved that someday, she would dress as though she were a princess in disguise. — Regina Doman

She rolls over with a little protesting noise, reaching sleepily after me. Then she begins to register the raindrops as they connect with her skin, and she sits up with straight with a gasp. I'm busy sitting up too, because when you go to sleep wrapped around a pretty girl, there are some things going on first thing in the morning that you don't exactly want making headline news. — Amie Kaufman

Adults don't always realize the profound effect their words can have on young kids - girls in particular. These people mean well, of course. What harm could possibly come from telling a little girl she's pretty? Technically, none - unless that's the only affirmation she ever hears. — Kylie Bisutti

I felt as though the skin had been peeled away from half of my body. Half my face had been peeled away, and everybody would stare in horror for the rest of my life. Or they would stare at the other half, at the half still intact; I could see them smiling, pretending that the flayed half wasn't there, and talking to the half that was. And I could hear my self screaming at them, I could see myself thrusting my hideous side right up into their unmarred faces to make them properly horrified. 'I was pretty! I was whole! I was sunny, lively little girl! Look, look at what they did to me!' But whatever side they looked at, I would always be screaming, 'Look at the other! Why don't you look at the other!' That's what I thought about in the hospital at night. However they look at me, however they talk to me, however they try to comfort me, I will always be this half-flayed thing. I will never be young, I will never be kind or at peace or in love, and I will hate them all my life. — Philip Roth

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

Since I met you,' he said, 'I've had no eyes and no thought for any other girl. When I was away nothing mattered about my coming back but this. If there was one thing I was sure of, it wasn't what I'd been taught by anyone else to believe, not what I learned from other people was the truth, but the truth that I felt in myself- about you.'

'Don't say any more.' She had gone very white. But for once her frailness did not stop him. It had to come out now.

'It isn't very pretty to have been made a fool of by one's own feelings,' he said. 'To take childish promises and build a-a castle out of them. And yet- even now sometimes I can't believe that all the things we said to each other were so trivial or so immature. Are you sure you felt so little for me as you pretend? — Winston Graham

How little it takes to make a young girl happy! A pretty dress, sunshine, and somebody opposite, and they are blest. — Louisa May Alcott

Little girl, your honesty and pluck have made me a friend, and that's rarer than a lover; it's more unselfish anyhow. My dear, I'm going to have a pretty lonely walk between this and Kingdom Come. — Bram Stoker

His hand was on my throat, and he was crushing me back with his body into the cold steel beam behind me. "Yes, I have loved, Ms. Lane, and although it's none of your business, I have lost. Many things. And no, I am not like any other player in this game and I will never be like V'lane, and I get a hard-on a great deal more often than occasionally." He leaned fully against me and I gasped.

"Sometimes it's over a spoiled little girl, not a woman at all. And yes, I trashed the bookstore when I couldn't find you. You'll have to choose a new bedroom, too. And I'm sorry your pretty little world got all screwed up, but everybody's does, and you go on. It's how you go on that defines you." His hand relaxed on my throat. "And I am going to tattoo you, Ms. Lane, however and wherever I please. — Karen Marie Moning

The saddest thing is a little girl who is told by her own mother and father that she will never be pretty.
And then they open the front door, and on the porch is a little white suitcase, with all of her things in it. — Chris Onstad

Every day she would spread her wings and tell herself today was the day she would fly - but every day a quiet, hateful old witch told her if she tried even once, she would fall. Told her little girls weren't meant to fly. Little girls were meant to stay at home and be pretty, and as long as she did that all the good things in the world would come to her." The words tasted foul. "And the little girl, who used to be fearless, learned fear. Just a little more each day, until her wings grew too heavy to lift her and her fear weighed her down to earth. — Cole McCade

The girl, the pretty little thing with the red hair, is she really worth all of this son?""Yes, yes she is. — Amy Lunderman

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

No matter what happened to you, no matter what horrors you endured when you were taken away, you will always be my pretty little girl. — Karin Slaughter

This was not some pretty little girl, coyly flirtatious, delicately stimulated. This was the mature female of the species, vivid, handsome and strong demanding that all the life within her be matched. Her instinct would detect any hedging, any dishonesty, any less than complete response to her - and then she would be gone for good. — John D. MacDonald

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

We killed an innocent girl — Sara Shepard

Loretta Lynn, Tammy Wynette, Dolly Parton and I were the first female headliners, where we would book our own opening acts. Before that, it was a standing joke that it was more like we had 'pretty little girl singers' opening for a male headliner. — Barbara Mandrell

Now, children, I want you all to sit up just as straight and pretty as you can and give me all your attention for a minute or two. There - that is it. That is the way good little boys and girls should do. I see one little girl who is looking out of the window - I am afraid she thinks I am out there somewhere - perhaps up in one of the trees making a speech to the little birds. [Applausive titter.] — Mark Twain

At the high school a pretty girl strolled across the parking lot to her black stallion, let her cigarette dangle from her lips while she put on her helmet, adjusted her goggles. Throwing a slender white leg over the side she jacked her little backside up and down a few times, exciting the steed. Now she came down on his back and he squatted, moaning to the soft squeeze of her hand, then at her sudden clutch shot out fast between the press of her knees. Claude looked down at his shoes as they passed, having seen nothing. But he glanced up in time to watch them glide off under the next streetlamp, the gleaming beast appearing almost languid with release, very pleased with himself and with the girl who clung to his back, small and stiff and unsatisfied.
She had been noticed: everywhere along the way the leaning people looked after her as though wondering if the new week had finally begun, then they looked at one another, then back at nothing. — Douglas Woolf

What irritated her most was that they kept brushing off her arguments with patronizing smiles, making her feel like a teenager being quizzed on her homework. Without actually uttering a single inappropriate word, they displayed towards her an attitude that was so antediluvian it was almost comical. You shouldn't worry your pretty head over complex matters, little girl. — Stieg Larsson

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

I'm Chloe." Chase was more than a little surprised by how amused she was by the whole thing. Clearly, she was enjoying watching him deal with this predicament. Which was, he suddenly had to admit, pretty funny. "Chase picked me up tonight." She nodded in his direction and added, "You know the story - girl in trouble on the side of the road meets guy in a flashy car. — Bella Andre

I really like the spooky twists and the intense mystery. I think the various plot devices work really well for TV, but they are still also in the spirit of Pretty Little Liars as a whole. I also really liked Spencer's breakdown in the previous season after Toby betrayed her. The girls have had breakdowns of sorts in the books, so it was fun to see that on-screen. — Sara Shepard

I met a new girl at a barbecue, very pretty, a blond I think. I don't know, her hair was on fire, and all she talked about was herself. You know these kind of girls: 'I'm hot. I'm on fire. Me, me, me.' You know. 'Help me, put me out.' Come on, could we talk about me just a little bit? — Garry Shandling

Kill her for me," she said in that whiny little-girl voice.
Diego took a step toward me, wearing an expression that told me he was only too happy to oblige his lady love.
"Oh, what?" I said. I wasn't even scared. I didn't care anymore. The numbness in my heart had pretty much taken over my whole body. "You always do what she tells you? You know, we have a word for that now. It's called being whipped. — Meg Cabot

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

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

In my gym class, we had something called The Pit, this little alcove where we had to sit if we forgot our gym clothes. It was usually just the crippled kid, the pregnant girl, and me. It was pretty awkward, just hanging with all these freaks who didn't want to show their legs. — Danny McBride

There was a fellow called Smiley married Ann Sercomb, Lord Sawley's cousin. Damned pretty girl, Ann was, and went and married this fellow. Some funny little beggar in the Civil Service with an OBE and a gold watch. Sawley was damned annoyed. — John Le Carre

The girl's pretty little-girl face had deformed, lips stretching wide, becoming like the mouth of a flukeworm, a ragged pink hole encircled with teeth going all the way down her gullet. Her tongue was black, and her breath stank of old meat. — Joe Hill

Bast brightened at the opportunity. Straightening up in his chair he looked thoughtful for a moment then said. "She had perfect ears." He made a delicate gesture with his hands. "Perfect little ears, like they were carved out of ... something." Chronicler laughed, then looked slightly taken aback, as if he'd surprised himself. "Her ears?" he asked as if he couldn't be sure if he had heard correctly. "You know how hard it is to find a pretty girl with the right sort of ears," Bast said matter-of-factly. Chronicler laughed again, seeming to find it easier the second time. "No," he said. "No, I'm sure I don't." Bast gave the story collector a deeply pitying look. "Well then, you'll just have to take my word for it. They were exceptionally fine. — Patrick Rothfuss

The Cheerful Fairy was quite short and plump in a tweed skirt and shoes so sensible they could do their own tax returns, and was pretty much like the first teacher you get at school, the one who has special training in dealing with nervous incontinence and little boys whose contribution to the wonderful world of sharing consists largely of hitting a small girl repeatedly over the head with a wooden horse. In fact, this picture was helped by the whistle on a string around her neck and a general impression that at any moment she would clap her hands. The tiny gauzy wings just visible on her back were probably just for show, but the wizards kept on staring at her shoulder. — Terry Pratchett

My wife and I have spent most of our lives in France, and we are both pretty well bilingual, my wife more purely than I, since as a little girl she went to school in French Switzerland. — Patrick O'Brian

That was pure, dumb Cool Girl bullshit. What a cunt. Again, I don't get it: If you let a man cancel plans or decline to do things for you, you lose. You don't get what you want. It's pretty clear. Sure, he may be happy, he may say you're the coolest girl ever, but he's saying it because he got his way. He's calling you a Cool Girl to fool you! That's what men do: They try to make it sound like you are the Cool Girl so you will bow to their wishes. Like a car salesman saying, How much do you want to pay for this beauty? when you didn't agree to buy it yet. That awful phrase men use: "I mean, I know you wouldn't mind if I ... " Yes, I do mind. Just say it. Don't lose, you dumb little twat. — Gillian Flynn

I was at this guy's house. I met this girl who was hanging out there. She was real pretty, she had brown eyes and dark hair. She was soft-spoken and real nice. I know that everyone has their own life and they can do what they want and you shouldn't think anything of it or anything. But man, I couldn't help but flinch a little when I saw all those needle marks in her arm, they looked so sore. Hateful little holes. I wanted to say something, but I didn't. — Henry Rollins

I don't get the point, really," I'd said as we contemplated the plastic-wrapped roses. "Why give a girl something that's supposed to represent love that's only going to wilt and die in a matter of hours?"
Steven laughed and said that was a pretty pessimistic way to view life, and I shrugged.
Then he said, "All the best things are like that, though, Lex, the most beautiful things. Part of the beauty comes from the fact that they're short-lived." He picked up a bouquet of deep-red roses, held it out to me. "These will never be as beautiful as they are at this moment, so we have to enjoy them now."
I stared at him. He scratched the back of his neck, a little red-faced, then gave me a sheepish grin. "Just call me a romantic," he said.
I wanted to say that there were some things in this world, some rare things, that were beautiful and stayed that way. — Cynthia Hand

Naked girls with the heads of Marx and Malraux prone and helpless in the glare of the headlights, tried to give them a little joie de vivre but maybe it didn't take, their constant bickering and smallness, it's like a stroke of lightning, the world reminds you of its power, tracheotomies right and left, I am spinning, my pretty child, don't scratch, pick up your feet, the long nights, spent most of my time listening, this is a test of the system, this is only a test. — Donald Barthelme

Want a sugar cube? [ ... ] They're supposed to be for the horses, but who cares? They've got years to eat sugar, whereas you and I ... well, if we see something sweet we better grab it quick. [ ... ] You're absolutely terrifying me in that get-up. What happened to the pretty little-girl dresses? — Suzanne Collins

He felt a little lost, after that experience. Lost as the girls on their knees. It was a never-ending story of young girls losing themselves, such that they were no longer humans with any souls or characters, but pretty girls with fat asses and nice tits. — Jess C. Scott

No one ever told me I was pretty when I was a little girl. All little girls should be told they're pretty, even if they aren't. — Marilyn Monroe