Say It To My Face Quotes & Sayings

I'm trying to tell him everything will be all right, but how can I say it with a straight face? My son's no idiot. He knows when I'm lying.
The medicine won't taste bad.
The bath is not hot.
Daddy will be safe.
Lies. — Suzanne Hayes

Oh my gosh, he smells good, like some exotic but comforting spice, nutmeg or cardamom. Slowly Damian lowers his head to mine and I think my chest might explode, my heart is tap-dancing so quickly.
He's going to kiss me.
I've imagined this and now it's really happening, I am like a block of wood. I can't move. I can't breathe. I close my eyes as the lightest feather of a breath , then lips, brushing over my lips. His breath is sweet and the taste of coffee barely lingers in his mouth. I feel as though my whole body has turned to liquid, into a river of millions of droplets, rushing apart and then back together.
"You have the softest lips," he whispers as he pulls back to look at me.
"So do you," I murmur. Oh, was that a stupid thing to say? I turn my face into his jacket and breathe in his scent. — Lisa Ann Sandell

I'm not having sex with you today."

"You say that every day and guess what? We still have sex every day... twice yesterday if I recall, three times if you include last night."

"I get it," I growled. "I have a weakness for your cock. No need to rub it in me face."

"There is always a need to rub my cock in your face. — L.A. Casey

It's funny - I read that women look to chiseled-faced guys for one-night stands, and to round-faced guys for marriage. When I'm rounder in the face, I like to say, 'This is my long-term look.' Or 'This is my wife-and-kids look right here.' — Garrett Hedlund

Not five minutes after Alona had vanished through the far wall of my bedroom, my mom had poked her head in my room to say good night, and let's face it, probably check up on me. Her face was glowing with happiness. She must have had a good time Sam at the movies. Where I was absolutely sure they did nothing but actually watch the movie, and refused to believe any evidence to the contrary. It was too ... weird. — Stacey Kade

Shit. Fallon! Shit, shit, shit, dammit, shit, shit." I hear Ben cursing like a sailor, but I don't understand why. I feel his hands meet my shoulders. "Fallon the Transient, wake the hell up!" I open my eyes and he's sitting up on the bed, running one hand through his hair. He looks pissed. I sit up on the bed and rub the sleep out of my eyes. The sleep. We fell asleep? I look over at my alarm clock and it reads 8:15. I reach over and pick it up to bring it closer to my face. That can't be right. But it is. It's 8:15. "Shit," I say. "We missed dinner," Ben says. "I know." "We slept for two hours." "Yeah. I know." "We wasted two fucking hours, Fallon." He looks genuinely distraught. Cute, but distraught. "I'm sorry. — Colleen Hoover

Haydn lets out a low whistle. "You're a real piece of work."
"It's okay," I say, turning to face him. "I got the memo." He arches a brow. "The one that says you hate my guts. There's no need to rub it in. — Siobhan Davis

So I had to face the fact that I was blessed with abilities that were considered symptoms of emotional abnormality or mental derangement by psychology, often thought of as demonic by religion, and whose very existence was denied altogether by science. So in my darker moments I used to think that my psychic initiation and subsequent experiences were a mixed bag, to say the least. But the fact is that I was very sensitive to criticism for the very good reason that often I shared many of the beliefs that stimulated it. — Jane Roberts

Room 101" said the officer.
The man's face, already very pale, turned a color Winston would not have believed possible. It was definitely, unmistakably, a shade of green.
"Do anything to me!" he yelled. "You've been starving me for weeks. Finish it off and let me die. Shoot me. Hang me. Sentence me to twenty-five years. Is there somebody else you want me to give away? Just say who it is and I'll tell you anything you want. I don't care who it is or what you do to them. I've got a wife and three children. The biggest of them isn't six years old. You can take the whole lot of them and cut their throats in front of my eyes, and I'll stand by and watch it. But not room 101!"
"Room 101" said the officer. — George Orwell

Yes, madam: yet I cannot choose but laugh,
To think it should leave crying and say 'Ay.'
And yet, I warrant, it had upon its brow
A bump as big as a young cockerel's stone;
A parlous knock; and it cried bitterly:
'Yea,' quoth my husband,'fall'st upon thy face?
Thou wilt fall backward when thou comest to age;
Wilt thou not, Jule?' it stinted and said 'Ay. — William Shakespeare

If you go to a therapist, they say, 'Are you sure? How do you feel about your wrinkles?' And I say, 'I don't know, because I don't really see them.' I see my hands, but I don't see my face, so it's not a torment. I only see it for five minutes in the morning when I brush my teeth! When you read women's magazines you always read about this drama of getting old, about anti-aging cream and plastic surgery and whatever else. But I think if you're independent, like I have grown to be, it's welcome. — Isabella Rossellini

I know you don't like the traffic here. I'm sorry that you're burdened with this."
I muttered, "Not liking the traffic is an understatement. People don't know how to drive here. They're crazy."
"We can take back roads with the least traffic on the way, and we'll be driving only to the outskirts of Mumbai, not through the city as before. It shouldn't be too bad. You're a good driver."
"Ha, easy for you to say. You'll just sleep in the back the whole way."
Ren touched my cheek with his fingers and gently turned my face to his. "Rajkumari, I want to say thank you. Thank you for staying and helping me. You don't know what this means to me."
I mumbled, "You're welcome. And rajkumari means?"
He flashed me a brilliant white smile and deftly changed the subject. — Colleen Houck

She's contemplative; I can feel the air around her thick with her thoughts. "No," she says at last, "I want to believe you're being sincere but I know you're not. So I say no, because even if I allow myself to fantasize a little about our lives in a cabin on the beach, I still find myself being left by you. There's almost no scenario I can think of where we live happily ever after."
"There could be," I tell her and mean it at the moment. Maybe mean it for longer. Her fingers stop moving and she sighs. I open my eyes and she's staring down at me. The lights have come on around the parking lot and one of them shines directly into her face. She angelic, a neon seraphim under the brilliant skies of the spring. I can see us on our boat, eating our hand picked clams on the fire behind our place. I can see it so vividly I'm almost sure it's happened. — Jaden Wilkes

Here again, it occurred to me, was the unique problem that faces my generation, the generation of those who had been, say, seven or eight years old during the mid-1960s, the generation of the grandchildren of those who'd been adults when it all happened; a problem that will face no other generation in history. We are just close enough to those who were there that we feel an obligation to the facts as we know them; but we are also just far enough away, at this point, to worry about our own role in the transmission of those facts, now that the people to whom those facts happened have mostly slipped away. — Daniel Mendelsohn

Never say never - and I certainly don't judge anyone who does it. But most of the characters I play are going through some kind of emotional turmoil, so my job requires me to have expression. If my face was froze, what right do I have to play that part? All the women who haven't done anything to their faces are still able to play great roles. And some of the ones who have done something have messed it up- they look freakish. Anyway, for me it's about playing women with rich lives - and the longer the life, the deeper the wrinkles. — Naomi Watts

The bed creaks as he eases closer. And then I feel it.
Oh, fucking hell. Just no. He can't do this to me.
It's big, it's hard, and it's nudging my ass.
We both freeze. Well, Gabriel freezes. His dick? It nudges me again, that blunt head pushing into the small of my back as if to say hello.
"Involuntary reaction," Gabriel says in a strangled voice. "Ignore it."
His hard-on says otherwise.
I swallow with difficulty. "Your hard dick is poking me in the ass. I can no more ignore it than if you slapped me in the face with it."
He stills, a sound gurgling in his throat. I'm about to apologize for being so crude, when he bursts out laughing. — Kristen Callihan

You don't know what's after the desert?"
Kennerly shrugged. "Some might. The coach ran through part of it fifty years ago. My pap said so. He used to say 'twas mountains. Others say an ocean ... a green ocean with monsters. And some say that's where the world ends. That there ain't nothing but lights that'll drive a man blind and the face of God with his mouth open to eat them up. — Stephen King

I also enjoy canoeing, and I suppose you will smile when I say that I especially like it on moonlight nights. I cannot, it is true, see the moon climb up the sky behind the pines and steal softly across the heavens, making a shining path for us to follow; but I know she is there, and as I lie back among the pillows and put my hand in the water, I fancy that I feel the shimmer of her garments as she passes. Sometimes a daring little fish slips between my fingers, and often a pond-lily presses shyly against my hand. Frequently, as we emerge from the shelter of a cove or inlet, I am suddenly conscious of the spaciousness of the air about me. A luminous warmth seems to enfold me. Whether it comes from the trees which have been heated by the sun, or from the water, I can never discover. I have had the same strange sensation even in the heart of the city. I have felt it on cold, stormy days and at night. It is like the kiss of warm lips on my face. — Helen Keller

As it turned out, my fears were unwarranted. Which isn't to say you haven't changed. But the biggest change of all has been a measure of peace. The peace is not total, but in the face of a suffocating anxiety, a measure of peace is no small thing. — Maggie Nelson

My concern is that you will face some delays and disappointments at this formative time in your life and feel that no one else in the history of mankind has ever had your problems or faced those difficulties. And when some of those challenges come, you will have the temptation common to us all to say, "This task is too hard. The burden is too heavy. The path is too long." And so you decide to quit, simply to give up. Now to terminate certain kinds of tasks is not only acceptable but often very wise. If you are, for example, a flagpole sitter then I say, "Come on down." But in life's most crucial and telling tasks, my plea is to stick with it, to persevere, to hang in and hang on, and to reap your reward. — Jeffrey R. Holland

And girls always want to change the rules in the middle of the game. You can't change the rules and think everyone else is just going to keep playing. I know what her hair smells like, but I can't get close enough to press my face into it. I know how soft her skin is on every part of her body, but I can't touch it. I know what she tastes like, but I can't kiss her, I'm not allowed anymore. So why should I torture myself with being around her, just so I can say we're still friends? — Katja Millay

I think I could have some very real feelings for you," I blurt out. I want to bite the words back as soon as I say them. "Good," she says, and she smiles as she rolls into my chest and wraps her arm around me. She buries her face in my shirt. I think she might be embarrassed. "I pour my heart out and all you can say is good?" I jostle her in my arms. "Mmm hmm," she hums. I feel her lips against my shirt, her breath warming the fabric. She laughs. "You can't really call that pouring your heart out, Pete." She mocks my tone, making her voice deep. "I think I might have some very real feelings for you." She laughs, and damn it all, it's such a pretty sound that she can't annoy me with it. — Tammy Falkner

Can I ask why you're throwing knives at cheese?'
'Caleb came by to discuss something,' Tobias says, leaning his head against the wall as he looks at me. 'And knife-throwing just came up somehow.'
'As it so often does,' I say, a small smile inching across my face. — Veronica Roth

Whether or not that's how it is," I said, "we must live according to what we believe, not the beliefs of others."

"The beliefs of others are not irrelevant, not when they shape the world we live in!"

"I didn't say they were irrelevant. But they will never dictate my judgment or my decisions," I snapped back. "Because others believe something does not make it true. You are not stupid because Plato says you must be, nor is Cleopatra a whore because some Roman wit will say it. I will never trust any learned opinion more than what I see in front of my face. — Jo Graham

When the second hour of Fiji's open house was almost at an end, a mother from Davy said, "How on earth do you get it to look like the cat is talking?" "Oh, did it look realistic?" Fiji had to struggle to keep a smile on her face. "It was so cute! It said, 'Get off my tail or I'll smother you in your sleep.'" "Just some batteries and a CD!" Fiji said. "And isn't that just what a cat should say? — Charlaine Harris

I will not speak falsely and say to you: 'Do not grieve for me when I go.' I have loved my children and tried to be a good mother and it is right that my children grieve for me. But let your grief be gentle and brief. And let resignation creep into it. Know that I shall be happy. I shall see face to face the great saints I have loved all my life. — Betty Smith

Let's say," Judd whispered, "that some fuck was to show up here and cause trouble. Let's say the piece of shit that put those bruises on your face shows up here, do you know what would happen?"
As I shook my head, Judd laid over the covers I rested under. "I would shoot the fucker. No warning shot. No flesh wound. One shot and it would be over. Do you understand? — Bijou Hunter

But all this was nothing compared to the face which I regret to say vaguely resembled my own, less the refinement of course, same little abortive moustache, same little ferrety eyes, same paraphimosis of the nose, and a thin red mouth that looked as if it was raw from trying to shit its tongue. — Samuel Beckett

And she didn't once say anything about this being a sin. It used to be I got the word sin slapped in my face every time I did something wrong, but come on, when you live in a sin-free family with sin-free parents and a sin-free sister, well, you can't help but sin a little extra on their behalf. — Han Nolan

You didn't really bring me beets, did you?" ...
"I did," he murmured, his thumbs sliding underneath my T-shirt the tiniest bit. "I brought mad beets."
"Oh man," I snorted ... "Did you bring me anything else?"
He brought his face back to mine, tinged with the slightest of blush. "I hesitate to say it now."
"What did you bring?" I asked his shaking shoulders.
He buried his head once again into my neck. "A really big zucchini ... — Alice Clayton

He is the most beautiful creature I have ever seen and it's not about his face, but the life force I can see in him. It's the smile and the pure promise of everything he has to offer. Like he's saying, 'Here I am world, are you ready for so much passion and beauty and goodness and love and every other word that should be in the dictionary under the word life?' Except this boy is dead, and the unnaturalness of it makes me want to pull my hair out with Tate and Narnie and Fitz and Jude's grief all combined. It makes me want to yell at the God that I wish I didn't believe in. For hogging him all to himself. I want to say, 'You greedy God. Give him back. I needed him here. — Melina Marchetta

Rachel's the first one to speak. "So - he told you."
"Told me what?"
"Come on, Hal. What's changed since yesterday?" Rachel sneaks one arm out of her jacket cocoon to give Hallelujah a soft punch in the shoulder. "I may not be at my best right now, but I'm not blind." She pauses. "Or deaf."
Hallelujah feels her face get hot. "Oh. What did you hear?"
"Bits and pieces. I was really out of it last night, after . . . whatever that was. After almost freezing to death." Rachel shudders. "I have to say, it was totally obvious from the get-go that Jonah liked you."
"It was?" Hallelujah is still surprised. She still doesn't quite believe it.
"Um, yeah. Or did you think he's out here for me?" Rachel says slowly, as if to a child, "You followed me. He followed you. — Kathryn Holmes

How shall I get through the months or years of my future life, in company with that man
my greatest enemy
for none could injure me as he has done? Oh! when I think how fondly, how foolishly I have loved him, how madly I have trusted him, how constantly I have laboured, and studied, and prayed, and struggled for his advantage, and how cruelly he has trampled on my love, betrayed my trust, scorned my prayers and tears, and efforts for his preservation
crushed my hopes, destroyed my youth's best feelings, and doomed me to a life of hopeless misery
as far as man can do it
it is not enough to say that I no longer love my husband
I HATE him! The word stares me in the face like a guilty confession, but it is true: I hate him
I hate him! — Anne Bronte

Luke grabs my hand. I turn to see a look of pure horror on his face. "This," he says, "is a dance?" "You were expecting what?" I say. "Why are they not dancing?" I look around the gym again. "Well, most people are dancing." I nod at the freshman boys, who have resorted to doing the robot. "They're dancing." Luke looks completely unconvinced. "And the music," he says, "is it always this.....loud?" I laugh. "You sound like you're forty. You have been to a dance before, right?" Luke looks offended. "Yes. Of course. But it was more..." he surveys the gyrating bodies around us "....civilised that this." He turns to me accusatory. "And you. Have you been to a dance? — Laura Bradley Rede

By contrast, my wife at fifty-two yeas old seems to me just as attractive as the day I first met her. If I were to say this out loud, she would say, 'Douglas, that's just a line. No one prefers wrinkles, no one prefers grey.' To which I'd reply, 'But none of this is a surprise. I've been expecting to watch you grow older ever since we met. Why should it trouble me? It's the face itself that I love, not that face at twenty-eight or thirty-four or fourty-three. It's that face.'
Perhaps she would have liked to hear this but I had never got around to saying it out loud. I had always presumed there would be time and now, sitting on the edge of the bed at four a.m., no longer listening out for burglars, it seemed that it might be too late. — David Nicholls

She turned to him with wide, shocked eyes. "Why did he..."
His lips twitched. No coarse language in front of the infants limited the ability to discuss the fountain of baby piss that had just arced halfway across the room.
"Twasn't you, darling. It's one of their favorite bath-time games.
"Something about the cool air on their naked...berries," he substituted at the last second....
"Do I have piddle in my hair?" she whispered, her eyes sparkling with laughter above her flushed cheeks.
"Not much," he assured her with a straight face. "You look almost becoming."...
"Decades from now, when our children ask how I fell in love with their mother, I'll say 'twas her sweet, gentle compliments during bath-time, and her fleetness of foot whilst dodging a flow of --- — Erica Ridley

Casting back her head, Arya gazed up at the twinkling sky, her long neck gold with firelight, her face pale with the radiance of the heavenx. "Do you ask out of friendly concern or your own self-interest?" She gave an abrupt, choked laugh, the sound of water falling over cold rocks. "Never mind. The night air has addled me. It has undone my sense of courtesy and left me free to say the most spiteful things that occur to me."
"No matter."
"It does matter, because I regret it, and I shall not tolerate it. Did I love Faolin? How would you define love? For over twenty years, we traveled together, the only immortals to walk among the short-lived races. We were companions ... and friends. — Christopher Paolini

That's how the world works, doesn't it?"
"That's how it can work. You're such a snob,Brian."
He looked up,flabbergasted. "What?"
"You're such a snob,and the worst kind of snob-the kind who thinks he's broad-minded. Now that I know that,you don't bother me at all."
The stable phone rang,delighting her. Whoever was on the other end not only had perfect timing but they had her gratitude.It gave her great pleasure to see the absolute shock on Brian's face as she walked to the phone.
"Royal Meadows Riding Academy. Would you hold one moment,please." With a friendly smile,she laid a hand over the receiver. "Really,I can finish up here.I'm keeping you from your work."
"I'm not a snob," he finally managed to say.
"Of course you wouldn't see it that way. Can we discuss this another time? I need to take this call."
Irked,he shoved the scoop back in the grain. "I'm not the one wearing bloody diamonds in my ears," he muttered as he stalked out. — Nora Roberts

It's like if someone had a loaded gun in your face. I don't know how else to describe how it felt to try to talk to my father. Even on a good day. If someone always has a loaded gun in your face, you weigh every word before you say it. You only dare say it if it might save you. But you're never sure, so there's this tendency to freeze. Say nothing at all. — Catherine Ryan Hyde

I was good. I was at home with baseball. But I set my routines, and I need them. I can't ... I can't play without them."

He didn't say anything else until we got to home plate and stepped on it at the same time. He put his hands on my face and looked at me directly, as if putting a tunnel of attention between us. His thumbs rested on my cheeks.

Why hadn't I seen it the night before? Or an hour ago? Why didn't I put it all together from the exhibition games and the spring training video? He was coming apart at the seams.

"You," he said. "You threw it all in the fire. Things started collapsing right before you, and when you came, everything went to hell. It's you. I denied it, because if I let you in, I had to start over. I tried to bend it around to not want you. But I can't deny it anymore. There's no center without you. — C.D. Reiss

What I saw there explained everything
the reason he had stayed away, why he had come to say good-bye. I can only describe what I saw by its effect on me. Every woman should be looked at in such a way, at least once her life. With a longing that cannot be contained
with love that goes beyond mere feeling because it transforms and-like the verse of the poem he had read
it dissolves, as an offering, a gift. I felt my face flush and waves of knowing suffused every pore, every cell of my being. I was loved. And in that love, I felt beauty
my own, unrealized until that moment, suddenly rising to consciousness in a way that made everything in me come alive to the beauty all around me. Nothing more needed to be said. — Nafisa Haji

Alric! Stop it!" Pickering snapped at him. "You mustn't let the men see you crying!"
Fury flared in Alric, and he spun on the count. "No? No? Look at them! They are dying for me. They are dying on my order! I say they do have a right to see their king! They all have a right to see their king!"
Alric wiped the tears from his cheeks and gathered his reins. "I'm tired of this. I'm tired of having my face put in the dirt! I won't stand it. I'm tired of being helpless. That's my city, built by my ancestors! If my people chose to fight, then, by Maribor, I want them to know it's me they fight!"
The prince put on his helm, drew his father's large sword and spurred his horse forward, not at the trench but at the castle gate itself. — Michael J. Sullivan

I do not choose to be a common man.
It is my right to be uncommon - if I can. I seek opportunity - not security. I do not wish to be a kept citizen, humbled and dulled by having the state look after me.
I want to take the calculated risk; to dream and to build, to fail and to succeed.
I refuse to barter incentive for a dole. I prefer the challenges of life to the guaranteed existence; the thrill of fulfillment to the stale calm of utopia.
I will not trade freedom for beneficence nor my dignity for a handout. I will never cower before any master nor bend to any threat.
It is my heritage to stand erect, proud and unafraid; to think and act for myself, enjoy the benefit of my creations, and to face the world boldly and say, this I have done. — Dean Alfange

Yeah," Tamara said. "An old bowling alley. There must be a town not too far from here. But how could Aaron be there? And don't say something like 'working on his score' or 'maybe he's in a bowling league' or something like that. Be serious."
Call leaned against the rough bark of a nearby tree and resisted the urge to sit down. He was afraid he wouldn't be able to get up again. "I'm serious. It might be hard to tell in the dark, but I have my most super-serious face on. — Cassandra Clare

I don't know what story y'all trying to get out of me. I don't know what image y'all trying to portray of me. But it don't matter what y'all think, what y'all say about me because when I go home at night, the same people that I look in the face - my family that I love, that's all that really matter to me. — Marshawn Lynch

Oh, I think that Lord Tyrion is quite a large man," Maester Aemon said from the far end of the table. He spoke softly, yet the high officers of the Night's Watch all fell quiet, the better to hear what the ancient had to say. "I think he is a giant come among us, here at the end of the world." Tyrion answered gently, "I've been called many things, my lord, but giant is seldom one of them." "Nonetheless," Maester Aemon said as his clouded, milk-white eyes moved to Tyrion's face, "I think it is true." For once, Tyrion Lannister found himself at a loss for words. He could only bow his head politely and say, "You are too kind, Maester Aemon." The blind man smiled. He was a tiny thing, wrinkled and hairless, shrunken beneath the weight of a hundred years so his maester's collar with its links of many metals hung loose about his throat. "I have been called many things, my lord," he said, "but kind is seldom one of them." This time Tyrion himself led the laughter. — George R R Martin

How can you say bad things about someone you don't know?" I shout. "How can you hate a stranger? Why do you have to pick on people?" she's not better than Yaqui. It's like everywhere there's a bully in my face. — Meg Medina

I stared blankly at Rhys for what felt like about three days.
"Me?" I finally sputtered.
He nodded.
"You're kidding, right?"
"Not kidding."
I laughed then, and it sounded slightly hysterical. "I'm not
going to marry you."
"I'm not asking you to."
"Good."
He eyed me. "And you can wipe that horrified look off your
face because it's obviously not true."
"Do I look horrified?"
"Yes, you do."
I grimaced. "Nothing personal, Rhys, but - "
He held up a hand. "Say nothing else. I shouldn't have even
mentioned it to you. I'll find another dragon to help me."
"Second opinions are really important," I said.
He just glowered at that.
We rode the rest of the way back to Erin Heights in silence.
Now I had even more information crowding my already full brain.
Maybe that Irena chick should go see a shrink, herself. She was
one crazy dragon lady. — Michelle Rowen

The curtains were half drawn, the floor was swept
And strewn with rushes, rosemary and may
Lay thick upon the bed on which I lay,
Where through the lattice ivy-shadows crept.
He leaned above me, thinking that I slept
And could not hear him; but I heard him say,
'Poor child, poor child': and as he turned away
Came a deep silence, and I knew he wept.
He did not touch the shroud, or raise the fold
That hid my face, or take my hand in his,
Or ruffle the smooth pillows for my head:
He did not love me living; but once dead
He pitied me; and very sweet it is
To know he still is warm though I am cold. — Christina Rossetti

I am interested in you, Gretchen." When I still won't look at him, he presses his fingers against my jaw and gently turns my face. He is looking straight in my eyes when he says, "I'm interested in you."
His midnight blues burn with an intensity that almost makes me believe him. Makes me want to believe him. He knows just the right thing to say to mess with my mind. He always has. He leans closer, watching me. His lips are a breath away from mine.
This time I'm not buying it.
My knee connects with his soft spot and he doubles over, gasping for air.
"Find your own way home," I snap before turning and marching back to my car. — Tera Lynn Childs

My mother and my father taught me to look at the actual problem, not the face of it, not the veneer of it. So for me, I was never - I was impressed that it - racially, I was impressed, right, but now in America it's about economics, and it's been about economics, and honestly, everything's been about economics since I don't want to say the beginning of time, but it's been about economics for a long while. — Lupe Fiasco

I remember an interview so terrible with CNN's Jon Klein, I nearly blurted out, 'Forget it, I am a loser!' But I didn't need to say it. My face and posture did. — Mika Brzezinski

There are no humans left. I should not be alone. I can't help but wonder that. There were so many of us living. But time started growing young four years ago. It isn't four years anymore. It's a number I wouldn't even be able to say. It feels like four years. It's trapped in my tender memory as four years. It's been an age. Multiple ages. It's been lifetimes; every single lifetime that used to exist. I remember my mother screaming. I recall the doctors naming me as nurses wiped away her blood and covered her face with white. The end of the play. It's been so long. Why am I alone? — F.K. Preston

He smirked. "Don't worry, Kelly. I won't say a word. I don't want anyone to know I'm here either." "You don't?" I echoed, surprised. I thought he'd be shouting it down the halls. I mean, him staying with Kelly Ross? He'd be instantly popular, and I'd be a laughingstock. "No," he said, his voice flat. I felt my mouth drop open again. Eric let himself in his "new room" and before I could recover, shut the door in my face. — Cambria Hebert

As I rock down the hall I am flung from my path- snatched and grabbed. Before I can even utter a word, a large palm is covering my mouth. In less than five seconds I am inside a pitch black room, pushed face first into a cold metal door, and I hear the lock snick into place. A heavy weight presses at my back. I didn't even have time to panic. It was a well-timed attack.
My mind flashes to another time and place, another hand on my mouth. I breathe though the panic that tries to overcome me.
I allow my senses to put me at ease. He's just softly breathing near my ear. His body is relaxed. The way he holds me feels more playful than threatening.
"Let me guess ... the Boss," I say to the heavy weight at my back. My tone is a mix of amused annoyance. — Erica Chilson

I have a surprise for you," the Beast had said, in his usual brusque tone.
Belle had just come in from feeding her horse, Philippe, and was standing by the kitchen's back door, shaking snow from her cloak. She'd taken one look at him - at the scowl on his face, at his clenched paws, at his awkward stance - and said, "No, thank you."
The Beast had blinked, taken aback by her refusal. His scowl had deepened. "I said, I have a surprise for you!"
"And I heard you," Belle had replied, "but I've had enough surprises to last me a lifetime. Including cold, dark cells, packs of wolves, and tantrums."
"Tantrums? Tantrums?" the Beast had sputtered. "I can't believe ... How can you say ... That wasn't a tantrum! And it wasn't my fault! I told you not to go to the West Wing. I told you -"
Belle had given him a sidelong look. "You're right. What was I thinking? You'd never throw a tantrum. Now, if you'll excuse me, I need to hang up my cloak. — Jennifer Donnelly

You think I like this?" I say defensively. "Trust me, I don't need this headache in my life." I swallow a mouthful of beer. "Hey. You know Twilight?" He blinks. "Excuse me?" "Twilight. The vampire book." His wary eyes study my face. "What about it?" "Okay, so you know how Bella's blood is extra special? Like how it gives Edward a raging boner every time he's around her?" "Are you fucking with me right now?" I ignore that. "Do you think it happens in real life? Pheromones and all that crap. Is it a bullshit theory some horndog dreamed up so he could justify why he's attracted to his mother or some shit? Or is there actually a biological reason why we're drawn to certain people? Like goddamn Twilight. Edward wants her on a biological level, right?" "Are you seriously dissecting Twilight right now?" God, I am. This is what Allie has reduced me to. A sad, pathetic loser who goes to a bar and forces his friend to participate in a Twilight book club. — Elle Kennedy

I remember once I came into his room alone, when no one was with him. It was a bright evening, the sun was setting and lit up the whole room with its slanting rays. He beckoned when he saw me, I went over to him, he took me by the shoulders with both hands, looked tenderly, lovingly into my face; he did not say anything, he simply looked at me like that for about a minute: "Well," he said, "go now, play, live for me!" I walked out then and went to play. — Fyodor Dostoyevsky

I open the orangutan's door and set a pan of fruits, vegetables, and nuts on the floor. As I close it, her long arm reaches through the bars. She points at an orange in another pan.
'That? You want that?'
She continues to point, blinking at me with close-set eyes. Her features are concave, her face a wide platter fringed with red hair. She's the most outrageous and beautiful thing I've ever seen.
'Here,' I say, handing her the orange. 'You can have it.'
She takes it and sets it on the floor. Then she reaches out again. After several seconds of serious misgivings, I hold out my hand. She wraps her long fingers around it, then lets go. She sits on her haunches and peels her orange.
I stare in amazement. She was thanking me. — Sara Gruen

About the Wi-Fi. Are you blind? Can you read, at all?" He points to a notice in the corner of the coffee shop, which is all about the Starbucks Wi-Fi code. Then he focuses on my dark glasses. "Are you blind? Or just subnormal?" "I'm not blind," I say, my voice trembling. "I was just asking. Sorry to bother you." "Fucking moron," he mutters as he starts tapping again. Tears are welling in my eyes, and as I back away, my legs are wobbly. But my chin is high. I'm determined I'm not going to dissolve. As I get back to the table, I force a kind of rictus grin onto my face. "I did it! — Sophie Kinsella

I am overweight. But to me, it's fat. I don't have Body Dysmorphic Disorder. When I look in the mirror I don't plunge into a depression and stick my finger down my throat or carve FAT in my arm with a pickle fork. I can appreciate when I look good aside from the weight. Sometimes I might say, Oh, I'm having a good face day.And a few times, after checking my appearance in the mirror before a date, I'd say, Okay. I'd date me. And I know if I ever could get the extra tonnage off, I'd be the first one to parade around in my underwear, or have no qualms about getting naked with a hottie, while the lights were still on in the room. — Kelli Jae Baeli

We kiss for a long time, a good long time. I don't even notice that it's cold and I forget to be afraid because that's just how good a kisser he is. His lips move above my lips. My lips ache for the touch of him, the softness of his skin. We keep kissing. My hands wrap themselves in his hair. His hand presses me close into him, as close as I can be against him, and he is solid, strong, amazing. My hands leave his hair and journey down to the sides of his face, still tingling.
"We should keep going," he says, voice gruff and husky again. I love when his voice sounds like that, deeper than normal. His lips puff out a little more, too. "You're blushing."
I pull my lips in against each other like I'm still trying to taste him. I move my snowshoes off of his snowshoes. It's tricky.
"You're a good kisser," I say.
"So are you. — Carrie Jones

You hear mothers say all the time that they would die for their children, but my mom never said shit like that. She didn't have to. When it came to my brother, it was written across her face in 112-point Tupac Gothic. — Junot Diaz

I'll come back to you," I say. "I promise you, if it's the last thing I do, I'll come back to you."
Her face is buried in my neck. She nods.
"I'll count the minutes until you do." she says. — Pittacus Lore

You have games on there?" he asks.
"Yeah," I answer for her. "She's become a checkers fanatic. Shelley, show him how it works."
While Shelley slowly taps the screen with her knuckles, Alex watches, seemingly fascinated.
When the checkers screen comes up, Shelley nudges Alex's hand.
"You go first," he says.
She shakes her head.
"She wants you to go first," I tell him.
"Cool." He taps the screen.
I watch, getting all mushy inside, as this tough guy plays quietly with my big sister.
"Do you mind if I make a snack for her?" I say, desperate to leave the room.
"Nah, go ahead," he says, his concentration on the game.
"You don't have to let her win," I say before leaving. "She can hold her own in checkers."
"Uh, thanks for the vote of confidence, but I am tryin' to win," Alex says. He has a genuine grin on his face, without trying to act cocky or cool. — Simone Elkeles

I can't wait to escape the dilapidated/ crippled thoughts, feelings and intentions people who claim to love me have upon me.
I just wanna get off the hook,
Either with dusty clothes
Or muddy face
But i just wanna let go....
And look back with a canvas of pride on my face
And say
It was worth it!! — Bandile M. Matsenjwa

When you tell me to be good, it makes me want to be good,' I say, hearing the undisguised desire in my voice. I run my fingers through the hair at her temples, taking her face between my palms, and she doesn't move. 'It also makes me want to be very, very bad. — Tammara Webber

Duran Duran blared from the car stereo. The woman, two silver bracelets on the hand she dangled out the window, cast a glance in my direction. I could have been a Denny's restaurant sign or a traffic signal, it would have been no different. She was your regular sort of beautiful young woman, I guess. In a TV drama, she'd be the female lead's best friend, the face that appears once in a cafe scene to say, What's the matter? You haven't been yourself lately. — Haruki Murakami

She was rumpled, undone, her hair coming out of its elastic to curl in tendrils around her face. There was something I had to say to her, I thought, something necessary, something right at the tip of my tongue.
I guess she knew it before I did.
Leaning over, she smoothed my hair back from my forehead. I closed my eyes at her touch. And so it was a surprise when she kissed me on the lips. — Brittany Cavallaro

And you do, don't you? Love me just a little? Because I'll say it again. Right now, to your face. I straight up love you, Jess Jordan. I'll shout it if it will help plead my case. But I have to at least get that point across before one more minute passes. — Anne Eliot

She watched his throat move, and then, he reached out and touched her face. "You sure are pretty," he said. "It's the stone," she replied immediately. Her skin felt warm; his fingertip touched just the very edge of her mouth. "It's flattering." Adam gently pulled the stone out of her hand and a set it on the floorboards between them. Through his ingers he threaded one of the flyaway hairs by her cheek. "My mother used to say, 'Don't throw compliments away, so long as they're free." HIs face was very earnest. "That one wasn't mean tho cost you anything, Blue." Blue plucked at the hem on her dress, but she didn't look away from him. "I don't know what to say when you say things like that." "You can tell me if you want me to keep saying them." She was torn by the desire to encourage him and the fear of where it would lead. "I like when you say things like that." Adam asked, "But what?" "I didn't say but." "You meant to. I heard it. — Maggie Stiefvater

I'm sorry," he says.
"What? Why?"
"You're fixing everything I set down." He nods at my hands, which are readjusting the elephant. "It wasn't polite of me to come in and start touching your things."
"Oh, it's okay," I say quickly, letting go of the figurine. "You can touch anything of mine you want."
He freezes. A funny look runs across his face before I realize what I've said. I didn't mean it like that.
Not that that would be so bad. — Stephanie Perkins

Would you like to hold my sword?" He asked the question with a gleam in his eyes.
Lucy burst out laughing. At least she didn't giggle again. "You did not just say that. But, um, yeah, I'd like to hold your sword, Agent Riley."
Hunter grinned and unzipped his backpack, pulling out something surprisingly small. He held it out to her, and noticed the disappointed look on her face. "Expecting something bigger?"
She smirked at his continued play on words. She had a lifetime of training in verbal and physical sparring; he was no match for her. "They say size doesn't matter, but I disagree."
Hunter, who apparently hadn't expected her response, choked on his own comeback and unsheathed the sword, then placed it in her hand. "You have to stroke it a certain way to make it bigger. — Kimberly Kinrade

As I watched all the problems you were struggling with, I realized how much you meant to me. It changed everything. I was worried about you - so, so worried. You have no idea. And it became useless to try to act like I could ever put any Moroi life above yours. It's not going to happen, no matter how wrong others say it is. And so I decided that's something I have to deal with. Once I made that decision ... there was nothing to hold us back." He hesitated, seeming to replay his words as he brushed my hair from my face. "Well, to hold me back. I'm speaking for myself. I don't mean to act like I know exactly why you did it."
"I did it because I love you," I said, like it was the most obvious thing in the world. And really, it was. — Richelle Mead

Her six-year-old brain had lost her father at sweet and was still stuck trying to decipher lemonade.
"But lemon is pretty, Dad. It's yellow. Like sun."
Her father nodded, his lips curved up at the corners.
"Sun is pretty and it has a smiley face. Sun is not bad."
"No, I guess it's not." Her father chuckled.
"I love sun."
"Of course you do, sweetie-pie."
"So lemon is nice, too."
"I believe so, but some people don't like the taste. It's too sour, they say."
She looked back at her father and said with a tone that suggested what other people thought about lemon was crazy. "Then add sugar. No need to blame the lemon. — E. Mellyberry

Now, Miss Bentley," he said with mock seriousness. "I'll have you know that yes, you are correct, I will always be the master in a relationship. I will always be the master when it comes to sex. I am the man."
Harly was having a hard time trying to maintain her own contrite, meek expression; her quivering lips gave that away. "Yes, Sir."
"See, when I say strip, you strip. When I say come here, you come. When I say kiss me, you kiss me. When I say you're walking around in my presence in nothing but silk stockings and a garter belt and a red satin bra, you will do so."
"Not happening."
"Insubordination will not be tolerated."
"I'll tell my mother."
"I'm not scared of her."
"All right. I'll tell your mother."
"Okay, some insubordination will be tolerated."
"I thought so."
"And when I say get the bondage gear-"
She guffawed right in his face. — Angela Verdenius

How does that put me in danger?" Nick asks. It's the first question he's asked the entire time. Devyn, however, has been Mr. Nonstop Wondering Question Guy.
"Because . . ." I don't know how to say it, struggle for the words. "Because you and I are a thing and you're a threat."
"You better believe I'm a threat," Nick growls. The entire car seems to shake with his energy. Little hairs on my arm lift and vibrate.
"He's going macho again," Dev says, totally nonchalantly, while he unlocks the door.
"He's always going macho," Is adds. "It must be the wolf thing."
"I am not going macho. I am always macho," Nick says, and for a moment the tension ratchets down, but then his face muscles become rigid again. — Carrie Jones

Some people wouldn't see a traitor when they looked at me. Some people would see a survivor. Call me anything you like - I sleep fine at night. But you will look at me when you say it. Or I'll get so far in your face you'll be seeing me with your eyes closed. You'll be seeing me in your nightmares. I'll scorch myself on the backs of your eyelids. Get off my back and stay off it. I'm not the woman I used to be. If you want a war with me, you'll get one. Just try me. Give me an excuse to go play in that dark place inside my head. — Karen Marie Moning

I didn't say, "I'll call you." I didn't hug her because of the wet clothes. Just a quick kiss. Then I turned and left. I made my way quietly down the hallway to the stairwell. I could tell she thought she wasn't going to see me again. I had to admit she might be right. The knowledge was as damp and dispiriting as my sodden clothes. I came to the first floor and looked out at the entranceway of the building. For a second I pictured the way she had hugged me here. It already seemed like a long time ago. I felt an unpleasant mixture of gratitude and longing, streaked with guilt and regret. And in a flash of insight, cutting with cold clarity through the fog of my fatigue, I realized what I hadn't been able to articulate earlier, not even to myself, when she'd asked me what I was afraid of. It had been this, the moment after, when I would come face to face with knowing that it would all end badly, if not this morning, then the next one. Or the one after that. — Barry Eisler

Indignation caused Mercedes to puff out her cheeks temporarily, causing her narrow face to resemble a set of inflated fireplace bellows. "You don't like Mr. Swift any more than I do," she retorted.
"No," Lillian said frankly. "But much as I hate to admit it, that puts us in a minority. Swift is liked by everyone in the northern hemisphere, including Westcliff and his friends, my friends, the servants, the neighbors - "
"You are exaggerating - "
" - children, animals and the higher order of plants," Lillian finished sardonically. "If root vegetables could talk, I've no doubt they would say they like him, too."
Daisy, who was sitting by the window with a book, looked up with a sudden grin. "His charm doesn't extend to poultry," she said. — Lisa Kleypas

What are you doing here, Luce?" he asked, studying me.
"Watching you play," I answered, knowing it wasan't one he'd accept.
"Yeah," he said, making a face. "That's not going to work for me."
Of course it wasn't.
"You know why," I added with a whisper.
"I need to hear you say it," he said, swallowing. "I've gone too many days without hearing it."
Sighing, I closed my eyes. "I love you," I said, knowing it was the truth and that it didn't change anything. "And I missed you."
"Yeah," he said, "me too. — Nicole Williams

I looked at the ground and the dark, drizzling sky and pretty much anyplace that wasn't her. "I like you. A lot." When I finally glanced at her, my face was hot and it was hard to keep looking.
She squinted up at me. Then she crossed her arms. "This is a really inappropriate place to be having this conversation."
"I know. I like you anyway."
Saying it a third time was like breaking some kind of spell. Her face went soft and far away.
"Don't say that unless you mean it."
"I don't say anything I don't mean. — Brenna Yovanoff

In the morning, when she wishes me to wake, she crouches on my chest, and pats my face with her paw. Or, if I am on my side, she crouches looking into my face. Soft, soft touches of her paw. I open my eyes, say I don't want to wake. I close my eyes. Cat gently pats my eyelids. Cat licks my nose. Cat starts purring, two inches from my face. Cat, then, as I lie pretending to be asleep, delicately bites my nose. I laugh and sit up. At which she bounds off my bed and streaks downstairs
to have the back door opened if it is winter, to be fed, if it is summer. — Doris Lessing

No one will say it to my face, but it's so obvious they think I actually murdered Gavin. As if I would actually want to hurt the guy I was in love with. Still, I see it in their eyes, the way they avoid crossing my path as if I'll snap and go after them next. I hear it in their accusatory whispers that fill the hallways as I pass by. The signs that I'm generally considered guilty are everywhere. — Jen Naumann

Annabelle drank again. Her face was so numb that she wasn't aware that some of the medicine had dribbled from her lips until Daisy picked up a napkin from the tray and blotted her chin.
Cautiously Annabelle lifted exploratory fingertips to the frozen skin of her face. "Feels so odd," she said, her voice slurred. "No sensation in my mouth. Daisy ... don't say that I was drooling while Mr. Hunt was here?"
"Of course not," Daisy said immediately. "I would have done something about it if you had been. A true friend doesn't let another friend drool when a man is present. — Lisa Kleypas

Wait: His boyfriend? He was gay? The focus on the lens sharpened, and I could see it clearly now. Of course he was gay. Everyone could see that, except the chubby little lonely heart sitting at seven o'clock, drawing sparkly rainbows on the page with her glitter crayons. I was still beating myself up when the round robin arrived to me, and I sputtered along trying to assemble some phony epiphany with strong verbs, but tears dripped down my face.
The room fell into silence as people waited for me to explain. But what could I possibly say? That I had just discovered my future husband was gay? That I was going to live the rest of my life surrounded by nothing but empty lasagna pans and an overloved cat destined to die before me?
"I'm sorry," I finally said. "I was just reminded of something very painful." And I guess that wasn't a lie. — Sarah Hepola

Nathan does have a special nickname he uses when he address me," Sarah announced then,drawing her husband's attention. " You have my permision to use it,too." "Oh? Colin asked.He caught the surprise look on Nathan's face and became all the more curious."And what might that be?" "Damn it, Sara" Colin couldn't believe he'd heard correctly. "Did you say
" "Nathan usually addresses me as Damn It Sara. Don't you dear?" she asked her husband. "Colin,you may also
" As if on cue,Nathan muttered,"Damn it, Sara, don't push me.I ... — Julie Garwood

She tried to kill you, Viola. She tried to blow you up ... You don't owe her nothing,' he says.
But I feel his arms on me and I'm realizing things don't seem so impossible anymore. I feel Todd touching me and there's anger rising in my gut but it's not at him and I grunt and I pull myself up again, leaning on him to keep me there as I stand. 'I do owe her,' I say. 'I owe her the look on her face when she sees me alive. — Patrick Ness

It's the beard," I said to my friends matter-of-factly. "It makes me want to just climb up onto his face, hold onto his man-mane, and take a ride. Wait, did I just say that out loud? — J.B. Hartnett

Oh, My God..." Even as he saw the face and heard that voice say "Crow..." he was throwing himself backward out of the shaft. Then the top of the elevator car blew out and the air was filler with shrapnel, everybody hit the deck, and crow grabbed his crossbow, yelling, "Get back! It's him, the vampire!" But it was too late. The vampire rose with the grip of a single beautiful hand, almost levitating toward them, his power and eyes and smile and terrible beauty so alien but so familiar, so pale but so solid, so horrible but so magnetic. And he came closer and closer. "Get back," ordered crow, and the Team started to obey. "Too late," the vampire said, halting them with the voice. "You've let me get too close." Crow raised his crossbow all the way then saied: "Hold it there." The thing laughed and said, "Are you joking?" "Stop!" said Crow. And the vampire smiled and showed his big teeth and said: "Stop me... — John Steakley

Sylvie's sort of pregnant. Well not sort of. She is. Pregnant. Actually pregnant with a baby.'
'Oh Dexter! Do you know the father? I'm kidding! Congratulations, Dex. God, aren't you meant to space your bombshells out a bit. Not just drop them all at once?'
She held his face in both hands, looked at it.
'You're getting married?-'
'Yes'
-'And you're going to be a father?'
'I know! Fuck me a father!'
'Is that allowed? I mean will they let you?'
'Apparently'
'I think it's wonderful. Fucking hell, Dexter, I turn my back for one minute ... !'
She hugged him once again her arms high round his neck. She felt drunk, full of affection and a certain sadness too, as if something was coming to an end. She wanted to say something along these lines, but thought it best to do this through a joke.
'Of course you've destroyed any chance I had of future happiness, but I'm delighted for you, really. — David Nicholls

It would be much truer to say that a man will certainly fail, because he believes in himself. Complete self-confidence is not merely a sin; complete self-confidence is a weakness. Believing utterly in one's self is a hysterical and superstitious belief like believing in Joanna Southcote: the man who has it has 'Hanwell' written on his face as plain as it is written on that omnibus." And to all this my friend the publisher made this very deep and effective reply, "Well, if a man is not to believe in himself, in what is he to believe?" After a long pause I replied, "I will go home and write a book in answer to that question." This is the book that — G.K. Chesterton

Maholtz asked me, "Why do you hate me?"
I said, Everyone hates you.
"I know," he said. "I know that," he said, "but they hate me cause I scared them or had what they wanted. You weren't ever scarend of me. You never wanted what I had. Except for the sap. And then you took it, and now I don't have it, so why do you hate me?"
Maybe it's your accent.
"I'm from Pinttsburgh," he said.
Maybe you shouldn't be.
"I can't help where I'm from."
We turned at Main Hall. Feld was talking to Forrest Kenilworth and Cody. The chair sat dripping in front of the door.
So maybe it's your face. The way you look at girls like you're scheming to corner them.
"I was borng this way, though. I can't help how my face loonks."
So maybe it's all the banced thing that you say.
"They just come out of me. I'm hated, I feel it. I say those things without thinking, from hurnt. I can't help that either. It's not my faulnt."
I guess, then, I hate you for being so helpless. — Adam Levin

MY MOM SAYS IT'S TIME for me to give up now, and that what I'm doing is futile. She's upset, so her accent is thicker than usual, and every statement is a question. "You no think is time for you to give up now, Tasha? You no think that what you doing is futile?" She draws out the first syllable of futile for a second too long. My dad doesn't say anything. He's mute with anger or impotence. I'm never sure which. His frown is so deep and so complete that it's hard to imagine his face with another expression. If this were even just a few months ago, I'd be sad to see him like this, but now I don't really care. He's the reason we're all in this mess. — Nicola Yoon

Do you realize that you've been married to me for just about half of your entire life?"
Her head came down, her eyes opened wide to stare at him. "Is that all?" she asked. "It seems an eternity".
"Did I say a quiet lion?" Alexander pulled a face. "An eternity with me has turned you into a bitch, my dear". — Colleen McCullough

I'm not mad at you." He presses the cold cloth against my forehead. "I'm mad at myself. I did this. Well, Easton and I. I brought this on you. I'm Reed the Destroyer." He sounds sad. "Didn't you know that?"

"I don't like that name." He sits next to me, drawing the cloth around and around my face, down my neck and onto my shoulder. It feels heavenly.

"Yeah, and what would you call me instead?" I open my mouth and say, "Mine. — Erin Watt

If you could choose any mask to wear right now, what would it be?" Anne lay down her yarn. "I suppose if, as you say, I would grow into this mask, then I would make it of my own face . . . but a braver, better version of myself." "And what would this braver Anne do?" The answer came quickly, as if it had been there all along. I'd save them, she thought. — Lena Coakley

Seriously,let me talk to her when she wakes up. Girl-to-girl."
"No offense, Chas, but you'd scare the crap out of her."
"Want to say that to my face, Coalhouse?"
"What's left of it. — Lia Habel

The old woman smiled sweetly at Fermin. My friend stroked her face and her forehead. She appreciated the touch of another skin like a purring cat. I felt a lump in my throat.
'A stupid question, wasn't it?' Fermin went on. 'What
you'd like is to be out there, dancing a foxtrot. You look like a dancer; everyone must tell you that.'
I had never seen him treat anyone with such delicacy, not even Bernarda. His words were pure flattery, but the tone and expression on his face were sincere.
'What pretty things you say,' she murmured in a voice that was broken from not having had anyone to speak to or anything to say. — Carlos Ruiz Zafon

This was all given to me, he seemed to say. My body, my face, my height, my strength. I did not ask for it, I did not make it, I did not build it. I did not fight for it. This is a gift, for which I say my daily thanks as I wash and comb my hair, a gift I do not abuse or think of again as I go through my day. I am not proud of it, nor am I humbled by it. It does not make me arrogant or vain, but neither does it make me falsely modest or meek. — Paullina Simons