Red Purse Quotes & Sayings

The kid pulled a Buck knife out of his pants pocket. "How about giving me your purse, bitch?"
Sally hiked up his skirt, reached into his briefs and pulled out a Glock.
"How about using that knife to slice off your balls?"
Lula whipped a gun out of her red satin purse and Grandma hauled out her .45 long-barrel.
"Day my make, punk," Grandma said.
"Hey, I don't want any trouble," the kid said. "We were just having some fun."
"I want to shoot him," Sally said. "Nobody'll tell, right?"
"No fair," Lula said. "I want to shoot him."
"Okay," Grandma said. "On the count of three, we'll all shoot him. — Janet Evanovich

I'm a riddle in nine syllables,
An elephant, a ponderous house,
A melon strolling on two tendrils.
O red fruit, ivory, fine timbers!
This loaf's big with its yeasty rising.
Money's new-minted in this fat purse.
I'm a means, a stage, a cow in calf.
I've eaten a bag of green apples,
Boarded the train there's no getting off. — Sylvia Plath

He lifted the book from the purse. The cover sported a painting of a stunning redhead in a long, pink gown who stared out the window over rolling green hills. The cover was slightly narrower than the rest of the book, and from underneath peeked out what looked to be a second cover. He turned the page and was startled at what he saw. Another full-color painting, but this one of a shirtless man smashing the heavily bosomed redhead onto a red couch. Her clothes were torn and their torsos met violently. The man's face was savage; the woman's head thrown back in surrender.
Sam flicked back and forth between the image of the prim, composed woman on the front cover and her ribald, passionate abandon on the inside cover.
He glanced out the window to see Ally emerge onto the street below, her head held high and her gait tight and focused as she marched away, prim and composed.
He flipped to the inside cover.
Hot damn. — Diana Holquist

For the law is not jurisprudence, not a weighty tome full of articles, not philosophical treatises, not peevish nonsense about justice, not hackneyed platitudes about morality and ethics. The law means safe paths and highways. It means backstreets one can walk along even after sundown. It means inns and taverns one can leave to visit the privy, leaving one's purse on the table and one's wife beside it. The law is the sleep of people certain they'll be woken by the crowing of the rooster and not the crashing of burning roof timbers! And for those who break the law; the noose, the axe, the stake and the red-hot iron! Punishments which deter others. — Andrzej Sapkowski

I'm not going to do it again," Lena Marquez whispered to the red purse across the hall from her nestle of blankets. "Never again. — Aaron Michael Ritchey

Serving others also requires a talent for observation," Hawke murmurs in my ear. "She'll approach the table to her right next, ask the woman in the red shirt if she'd like her bill." My mom does exactly that, her lips moving as she gathers the dirty dishes. The customer nods and pulls her wallet out of her no-name vinyl purse. "How did you know she'd do that?" I ask. "I look for threats. You look for fashions." He splays his fingers over me, his grip thrillingly secure. "Your mom looks for needs her customers might have." "Everyone sees what they want to see," I conclude. "The average person sees very little." Hawke pushes me toward the counter. "Very few of us pay attention. — Cynthia Sax

He drank some more wine, feeling he was about to commit a forbidden act. A transgression. For a man should never go through a woman's handbag-even the most remote tribe would adhere to that ancestral rule. — Antoine Laurain

Although some people think women are inferior to men, I think it's a privilege to be a woman. There are so many fun things afforded to the female gender such as adornment of self, the freedom to communicate with gestures, and the freedom to express one's emotions.
I don't know what I'd do without my red backpack purse, and I am attached to my PDA with the pink monogrammed leather case. I've developed favorites among the many items in my wardrobe, and I like experimenting with accessories like hats, scarves, watches and belts.
I've become fairly proficient at applying make-up, and I now know the importance of a good facial cleanser and moisturizer. — Jessica Angelina Birch

Let's go to town," Jo said. "Take me to eat dinner at the hotel."
I sucked in a breath and stared at her for a minute. Here she sat, her hair still wet although neatly braided, wearing an old Kiss sweatshirt, the one with the red mouth and tongue, red sweatpants, and ridiculous red pumps with black scuffs on the toes and heels.
And she wanted me to take her to the Hotel Wyoming, where the rich tourists hung out. I smiled. Because it was possibly the greatest thing I'd ever heard.
"Yeah, let's go to the hotel. Grab your purse and I'll find your coat. — Laura Anderson Kurk

After she returned and the Gray Man had been encouraged to sit down on the worn couch, Maura said, "I'll warn you that if you try anything, Calla has Mace."
By way of demonstration, Calla handed him his drink and then removed a small black container of pepper spray from her small red purse.
Maura gestured toward the third member of their group. "And Persephone is Russian."
"Estonian," Persephone correctly softly.
"And" - Maura made an extremely convincing fist - "I know how to punch a man's nose into his brain."
"What a coincidence," the Gray Man said genially. "So do I. — Maggie Stiefvater

The word itself has another color. It's not a word with any resonance, although the e was once pronounced. There is only the bump now between b and l, the relief at the end, the whew. It hasn't the sly turn which crimson takes halfway through, yellow's deceptive jelly, or the rolled-down sound in brown. It hasn't violet's rapid sexual shudder or like a rough road the irregularity of ultramarine, the low puddle in mauve like a pancake covered in cream, the disapproving purse to pink, the assertive brevity of red, the whine of green. — William H Gass