She Doesn't Like Me Quotes & Sayings

The gods don't give a gift that precious to someone so undeserving."

"Are you my priest now?"

Hadrian stared at him.

Royce looked back down at the stream below. "She doesn't even know me. What if she doesn't like me? Few people do."

"She might not at first. Maribor knows I didn't. But you have a way of growing on a person." He smiled. "You know, like lichen or mold."

Royce looked up and scowled. "Okay, forget what I said. Definitely steer clear of the priesthood. — Michael J. Sullivan

Beyonce, to me, doesn't have a f
king Purple Rain, but she's the biggest thing on Earth. How can you be that big without at least one Sweet Home Alabama or Old Time Rock & Roll? ... People are like, 'Beyonce's hot. Got a nice f
king a
.' I'm like, 'Cool, I like skinny white chicks with big t
s.' Doesn't really f
king do much for me. — Kid Rock

You're saying she doesn't do her work? So take care of your business! Fail her like a normal kid. The failure will be between me and my daughter, then. You won't like it if her failure is between me and you. — Esme Raji Codell

She was so much better than normal life," I say. "She made me better."
Autumn glances over and shakes her head. "Don't. That's not how it works. Nobody makes you be anything. You just are that, whether you like it or not."
She doesn't sound angry, but like she's explaining the world.
"That, then," I say, looking at the empty baseball diamond. "That's what I meant. Just that when I was with her, I was allowed to be better. — Brenna Yovanoff

Wait
we have one left," the runner said, bringing out what was surely the most expensive bouquet of all: a three-foot tall arrangement of two hundred white roses, in the palest ivory color. All the girls swooned. Almost no boys bought white roses ever. It was a big sign of commitment. But this one practically trumpeted a captured heart.
The runner set the bouquet in front of Schuyler.
Mimi raised an eyebrow. She had always won the roses lottery. What was this all about?
For me?" Schuyler asked, awestruck by the size of the thing.
She took the card from the tallest stem.
For Schuyler, who doesn't like love stories." It was not signed. — Melissa De La Cruz

I don't like how he holds on to her and don't like how long he's holding. That doesn't look like brotherly love to me. I stare at his girl. Why is she so damned happy to see her guy hugging someone else? — Katie McGarry

If you cherish something enough", she told me, "it doesn't matter how old or worn or useless it's become; your caring for it immediately raises its value in somebody else's eyes. It's just like rehab- a body's got to believe in their own worth before anybody can start fixing them, but most people need someone to believe in them before they can start believing in themselves. — Charles De Lint

My mom's like me and she doesn't want to look weak in front of other people. And she's like Colby in the way that she has to take hits at other people whenever she feels threatened. That used to make me want to cave and do what she wants. But it doesn't anymore. — M-E Girard

I was watching Ashlee Simpson on Jay's show last night ... She was really singing, and I was saying, 'Bring back the lip synch.' ... And it struck me that Ashlee Simpson is a lot like George Bush-because she wouldn't even really be in the big leagues if it wasn't for family connections, and she's in way over her head. And she doesn't know what to do. And she blamed her band. — Bill Maher

His parenting never involved indulgence, just benign neglect. And having let me do as I wish for two decades, it seems a mean trick to impose discipline by marrying me off to some relic from another age."
"Perhaps."
"Who knows if the old baron is even up to the task of managing me! You say I'll give him fatal spasms." "Only if the drink doesn't kill him first," Clun quipped.
"He's a ... a tippler?" She asked.
"More than tipples, if memory serves. A bottomless cask. Mouth like a funnel on one end and a wee spigot at the other," he concluded with a wink. — Miranda Davis

When I finally calmed down, I handed her the Ewok. "Can you go back and give it to him" I said. "Oh, honey," she answered. "That's so sweet of you. But Isabel can clean the Lego set. It'll be good as new for Auggie, don't worry." "No, for the other kid," I answered. She looked at me a second, like she didn't know what to say. "Via said he doesn't speak any English," I sai. "It must be really scary for him, being in the hospital." She nodded slowly. "Yeah," she whispered. "It must be." She closed her eyes and hugged me again. And then she took me over to the security desk, where I waited until she went back up the elevator and, after about five minutes, came back down again. "Did he like it?" I asked. "Honeyboy," she said softly, brushing the hair out of my eyes. "You made his day. — R.J. Palacio

It really doesn't bother me," she said. "I've always thought it stupid to try to hide your age, or to pretend to be younger than you are. Denying your age is like denying your life. — Arturo Perez-Reverte

I Know a girl with sea green eyes. She melts the sun, swallows the sky then breathes out stars to kiss the night so guys like me will have some light, she doesn't know the things I've dome. but if a girl like that could love me, i might be clean again — Carolee Dean

Should i even bother scanning the crowd for my parents? I could turn around and go back to the dormitory. Then I see her. My mother stands alone near the railing with her hands clasped in front of her. she has never looked more out of place, with her gray slacks and gray jacket buttoned at the throat, her hair in its simple twist and her face placid. I start toward her, tears jumping into my eyes. She came. She came for me. I walk faster. She sees me, and for a second her expression is blank, like she doesn't know who I am. Then her eyes light up, and she opens her arms. She smells like soap and laundry detergent. — Veronica Roth

If you ever land in a situation you can't handle, call me." She let out a raspy laugh. "And you'll what? Ride in on your white horse and save me? From Afghanistan? Or Iraq? Or wherever else they're sending recently enlisted marines these days?" "Call, email, or send a letter. Hell, send a carrier pigeon. I don't care how you get in touch, or where I am. If you need me, I'll find a way to help. It doesn't matter where I am or what I'm doing. You're like family to me, Josie. And I'm always here for you." "Like family?" She raised an eyebrow. "So you're doing this for Dominic? Because my brother is your BFF?" "No, I'm doing this because I care about you," he growled. She — Sara Jane Stone

Lost," I say, dropping the photo on to the counter. "I've lost Elizabeth." She pauses a moment and straightens to look at the photo. "Oh, was it an advert you wanted?" Breath floods into my lungs. "Yes. Yes, that's it. I wanted to place an advert." "I'll get you a form. Awful, cats, aren't they?" I nod, feeling as though I've missed some part of the conversation. I nod, but I quite like cats, and I wonder what this woman has against them. "I remember when my auntie lost her Oscar. She was frantic. Missing for weeks, he was. Found him in a beach hut in the end. Have you asked your neighbours to look in their sheds?" I stare at the woman. I can't imagine finding Elizabeth in a shed. But perhaps it is a good suggestion. Perhaps it's just me it doesn't make sense to. I borrow a pen and write beach hut on a scrap of paper. — Emma Healey

This is because she doesn't know about me picking a fight with Shruggy Jesus or rolling around topless with Lukas. My soul has already put on a blinker for the Hell exit, and now I live at hippie camp. That's like sending me into the express lane. — Emery Lord

The doctor holds up her hands. I'm not going to hurt you. I need to check your tummy. Here. She gives me a cold, round sucky thing and she lets me play with it. You put it on your tummy, and I won't touch you and I can hear your tummy. The doctor is good ... the doctor is Mommy.
My new mommy is pretty. She's like an angel. A doctor angel. She strokes my hair. I like it when she strokes my hair. She lets me eat ice cream and cake. She doesn't shout when she finds the bread and apples hidden in my shoes. Or under my bed. Or under my pillow. Darling, the food is in the kitchen. Just find me or Daddy when you're hungry. Point with your fingers. Can cou do that? ... — E.L. James

Well, I'm sorry you couldn't make it either. I'm sorry I had to sit there in that church--which, by the way, had a broken air conditioner--sweating, watching all those people march down the aisle to look in my mother's casket and whisper to themselves all this mess about how much she looked like herself, even though she didn't. I'm sorry you weren't there to hear the lame choir drag out, song after song. I'm sorry you weren't there to see my dad try his best to be upbeat, cracking bad jokes in his speech, choking on his words. I'm sorry you weren't there to watch me totally lose it and explode into tears. I'm sorry you weren't there for me, but it doesn't matter, because even if you were, you wouldn't be able to feel what I feel. Nobody can. Even the preacher said so. — Jason Reynolds

What?" She burrowed closer, tucking her fingers against the collar of my shirt.
Throwing my arm around her waist, I took what felt like the first real breath in weeks. "If I had a Mogwai, I'd totally feed it after midnight. That Mohawk gremlin was a badass."
She laughed again, the sound tinkling inside me, and I felt about a thousand pounds lighter. "Why doesn't that surprise me?" she said. "You'd totally bond with the gremlin."
"What can I say? It's my sparkling personality. — Jennifer L. Armentrout

Sorry, I had to break the tension; it was making me uncomfortable. It reminded me a lot of some
of my dates in high school. Just before the guy copped a feel."
"Sorry," Kelsey said, her apology directed at Cole. "She doesn't interact with people very often. It's
... like a puppy that gets locked in the laundry room all day."
"Should I get her a treat?" he asked.
"Hey," Alexa said, her tone defensive. "Is the treat bacon?"
"Milk-Bone," he said.
"Then I'll pass and head to bed." She looped her arm through Kelsey's, and they turned, stepping
off the porch. — Maisey Yates

No guy is ever gonna be like, 'Well, I'm not into her because she just doesn't seem into me!' That's never been a complaint for why a guy doesn't like a girl. Ever! That's an attractive thing, so always err on the side of aloofness. — Nikki Glaser

I know she's a special girl, Decker, she deserves to be treated like one. Your father managed to keep me completely wrapped up in his heart because he never stopped for one moment trying to show me how much he loves me. To be honest, he doesn't need to show me, I know he loves me, but women like to see, we like to feel. It's nice to know you are the center of someone's universe, and in return, he'll always be the center of mine. — Kirsty Dallas

I hand over a lot of things when I'm home. Mom tells me she doesn't like my shirt I want to buy, and I hand it over. Not the shirt itself, but my wish for that shirt. I want to watch one television show and she wants to watch another one -I hand that over too. It's easier that way. I even hand over my toenails when she asks. But I think sometimes you need to put a thing in a box -even if the box is inside your head -and store it away for yourself. — Gin Phillips

Ringer's scrunched into a corner of the room with good angles on the windows and the door coming in from the lobby. A hand on her neck, and that hand is gloved in blood. I have to look. She doesn't want me to look. I'm like, "Don't be stupid, I have to look." So she lets me look. It's superficial, between a cut and a gouge. I find a scarf lying on a display table and she wads it up and presses it against her neck. Nods at my torn sleeve. "Are you hit?" I shake my head and ease down on the floor beside her. We're both pulling hard for air. My head swims with adrenaline. "Not to be judgmental, but as a sniper, this guy sucks. — Rick Yancey

My ears perked up like a dog's again when she spoke and pointed in the general direction of the chick that smelled of Slim Jims.
I hope I don't start barking.
"Oh, please, like she doesn't know about the smell of meat products wafting from her lady parts. I think she rubs bologna down there to attract men. Lunch meat is her sex pheromone."
The brunette shook her head in irritation. "If I do a shot, will you please stop talking about Jade's disgusting vagina and never, ever use the word meat product in a sentence?"
"Woof!"
Three sets of eyes all turned to look at me.
"Did I just bark out loud?"
Three heads bobbed up and down in unison. — Tara Sivec

In light of this, I'm not too disturbed about the semi I'm sporting while watching Beauty and the Beast - part of the homework Erin gave me. I like Belle. She's hot. Well ... for a cartoon, anyway. She reminds me of Kate. She's resourceful. Smart. And she doesn't take any shit from the Beast or that douchebag with the freakishly large arms — Emma Chase

I stand there for just a few seconds before people realize that I'm there. Their conversation peters out. I wipe my palms off on the hem of my shirt. Too many eyes, and too much silence.
Evelyn clears her throat. "Everyone, this is Tris Prior. I believe you may have heard a lot about her yesterday."
"And Christina, Uriah, and Lynn," supplies Tobias. I'm grateful for his attempt to divert everyone's attention from me, but it doesn't work.
I stand glued to the door frame for a few seconds, and then one of the factionless men--older, his wrinkled skin patterned with tattoos--speaks up.
"Aren't you supposed to be dead?"
Some of the others laugh, and I try a smile. It emerges crooked and small.
"Supposed to be," I say.
"We don't like to give Jeanine Matthews what she wants, though," Tobias says. — Veronica Roth

She doesn't like her own room because it's too little, she says. She says she likes to spread out. That kills me. What's old Phoebe got to spread out? Nothing. — J.D. Salinger

I used to like girls with nice hands and legs, but now, as long as she loves me and doesn't leave me, that would be fine. — Jaejoong

Echo's my solid, my base, my foundation. She has no idea that the single fear that keeps me up at night is knowing one day she'll discover she doesn't need me like I need her. — Katie McGarry

Actually, I believe there are only two kinds of women in this world: Martha people and Oprah people. That doesn't mean one can't have an affinity for both of them, but my theory is that every chick is more firmly in one camp than the other. The typical Oprah woman is all self-actualized and best-life-y and Eat, Pray, Love. The Big O seems like the kind of gal who'd insist we all spend the afternoon wearing jammy pants. And how fun would that be?!
But Martha?
She's not putting up with that nonsense, and that makes me adore her all the more. She'll tell you what to eat, where to pray, and who to love, and I appreciate the guidance. — Jen Lancaster

(Al to Pierce) "You will make sure that nasty demon Ku'Sox doesn't kill her," Al said conversational y. "Understand? You're angry, but you still like her, yes? Want to have wild demon sex with her even if she ruined your attempt to kill me? Keep her alive, and you might get some. Eh? Eh? You'd like that, mmmm? — Kim Harrison

Kathleen doesn't look like you," Henry said suddenly, staring at me.
"Uh, no. She doesn't. Not really," I stammered, not knowing what else to say. Without another word, Henry turned and left the kitchen. I heard him run up the stairs and looked at Georgia who met my gaze with bafflement.
"Did you hear that, woman?" I asked Georgia. "Henry doesn't think Kathleen looks like me. You got something to tell me?"
Kathleen shrieked again. Georgia wasn't moving fast enough with the jar of bananas she'd produced.
Georgia smirked and stuck out her tongue at me, and Kathleen bellowed. Georgia hastily dipped the tiny spoon into the yellow goo and proceeded to feed our little beast, who wailed as she inhaled.
"She may not look like you, Moses. But she definitely has your sunny disposition," Georgia sassed, but she leaned into me when I dropped a kiss on her lips. It didn't hurt my feelings at all that my dimpled baby girl looked more like her mother. — Amy Harmon

I don't know ... we seemed to click right away, you know? And he's so kind but determined to protect you and me both, and well, he's nice to look at. Even with the "scar. It's kind of sexy."
I chuckled. "Do you know how that scar got there?"
She giggled. "Yeah. He told me Tristan gave it to him. But it sounded like he deserved it. Jax can be ... well, he's Jax. But I think I love him."
"I'm sure the accent has nothing to do with it." She seemed to have a thing for those.
"Oh, my God. You should hear him talk dirty with that accent of his!"
I clapped my hand over my "mouth to cover a laugh. "I don't want to know that!"
"Yes, you do. Doesn't Tristan ever talk dirty to you in all those different languages he knows?"
Hmm ... funny how I'd never thought about it. He was holding out on me! That would have to change. Next time, I swore I'd make him do it. Whenever next time might be ... — Kristie Cook

It only took Ysabel one day to screw with one of his finest trackers. Lucifer fought an urge to shake his head. "Let me get this straight. After pissing Ysabel off, to the point she's going to come storming in here any minute demanding I fire you, you still want to work with her? Are you insane?" "I hope so," Remy grinned. A smile cracked Lucifer's face. "Congratulations. Your mother will be ecstatic. Consider it done. I like a male who doesn't back down in the face of a shrew." "Bah, she's not a shrew. Just a little feisty. Besides, I think I might enjoy taming a cougar with claws. — Eve Langlais

I don't have many friends. TAMMY, I guess. Her soul is code, is a fixed set of instructions, and although you might think having a relationship with someone like that would get boring after a while, it doesn't. TAMMY's AI is good. Really good. She's smarter than I am, by a mile, by an order of magnitude. In all the time I've known her, TAMMY's never said the same thing to me twice, which is more than you can ask from most human friends. Plus, I have Ed for petting and body heat. I think that probably sounds more yucky than it really is. — Charles Yu

Why would you believe in me at all?"
He moved to lean forward on the railing, forearms folded with the blade dangling down over the river, his face in profile. Finally, he said, "I trust you."
"You shouldn't."
"I know," he muttered.
She heard the strain in his voice. His eyes cut to her, and she saw that he knew she had heard it. His body shifted into a position of determined nonchalance. "Logically speaking," he said lightly, "the idea that you hired someone to attack me doesn't make much sense. I'm not sure what your motive would be."
"I could have wanted to put an end to the rumors."
"That would be a shame. I like the rumors."
"Don't joke. — Marie Rutkoski

Was it weird having a witch grandma? Scary? Was she always, like, threatening to cast spells if you were bad?"
"Most of the time she just threatened to send me to my room."
"That doesn't sound so scary to me."
"That's because you haven't met her. — Richelle Mead

You should be up celebrating."
"This is part of it." She ran her hands carefully up the gelding's leg before pinning the wrapping to the line. "Finnegan and I are going to congratulate each other while I clean him up.But you could do me a favor." She pulled her ticket out of her pocket. "Cash in my winnings."
Brian shook his head. "At the moment I'm too pleased to be annoyed with you for betting my money." With one hand on the horse he leaned over to kiss her. "But I'm not taking half the horse."
Keeley hooked an arm around Finnegan's neck. "You hear that? He doesn't want you."
"Don't say things like that to him."
She laid her cheek against the gelding's. "You're the one hurting his feelings."
As two pairs of eyes studied him, Brian hissed out a breath. "We'll discuss this privately at some other time."
"He needs you.We both do."
The muscles n his belly twisted. "That's unfair."
"That's fact. — Nora Roberts

You dress to please yourself. If she doesn't like you for you, then you don't need her.' All of this would be fine if I knew exactly who me for me was. — Jennifer Niven

She's proud of you. She said so herself. And she knows you deserved a chance to be happy. I know that, too" I added. "I just wish Henry could look at me the way he looks at you."
Persephone wrapped her fingers around mine. "You should be glad he doesn't. When he looks at me, he hurts. But when he sees you ... " She smiled faintly "He has hope. I'm not surprised you don't notice it. It took me a while to read him, too. I spent thousands of years with him though, and I know that look. I saw it the day we got married. You don't forget the first time someone looks at you like that. — Aimee Carter

When she heard the door behind her open, she spoke without turning.
"You've got a man who doesn't particularly like women as a species, considers them inferior. Well, to be fair, considers everyone inferior, but I got a definitive vibe women were lowest on his feeding chain. Called me 'miss,'" she grumbled.
"And lived?" Roarke stepped behind her and began rubbing her shoulders. — J.D. Robb

She eyes me. 'What is this all about?'
It's my turn to shrug, upsetting the rocks on my back. 'I don't know. Girl talk. I mean, you can have any guy you want, so why don't you just pick one?'
Priscilla doesn't answer at first. I'm glad I chose this moment: she's actually pinned down and cannot run away. Finally, she says, 'If I can have any guy I want, I'd like to have every guy I want.'
'What do you mean?
She gives me an exasperated look. 'I'm only seventeen, Skye. I'm not looking to settle down just yet.' She probably misunderstands my shocked expression, because she adds, 'I mean, I'm not saying you're wrong or anything, but it's just not me, you know? — Fabio Bueno

Art can mean a lot of things. At the heart of it, art is doing something you really believe in. Like my wife, she volunteers helping underprivileged kids, that's her art. To me, anything that you do that you truly believe in makes you an artist. It doesn't necessarily mean being a painter or a film maker. That's art, but there's more to it than that. As long as you're pouring your heart and soul into what you're doing, that's the weapon. — Ray Toro

I would like to tell her all about Josef, but she already dismissed me once when I tried to confide in her. It is like he said: we believe what we want to, what we need to. The corollary is that we choose not to see what we'd rather pretend doesn't exist. Mary can't accept the thought that Josef Weber might be a monster, because that implies that she was duped by him. — Jodi Picoult

How strange," she said, "not to recognize one's own face."
"You have no cause for complaint," Grant said huskily. Even bruised and pale and ravaged, her face was incomparable.
"Do you think so?" She stared into the looking glass without a trace of self-satisfactionshe had displayed at the ball. *That* Vivien had had no doubt of her many attractions. This woman was far less confident.
"Everyone thinks so. You're known as one of the great beauties of London."
"I don't see why." Catching his skeptical expression, she added, "Truly, I'm not fishing for compliments, it's just... seems a very ordinary face." She produced a comical, clownish expression, like a child experimenting with her reflection. A shaken laugh escaped her. "It doesn't seem to belong to me. — Lisa Kleypas

I can't believe you know so little about firearms."
"I can't believe you know so much," Devonmont countered. "Never seen a woman as keen on guns as you. It's rather chilling."
"Isn't it, though?" Jackson put in. "Better watch it, Devonmont. Her ladyship is liable to shoot first and ask questions later if she finds you doing anything she doesn't approve of."
"I may just take your caution to heart, Pinter." Devonmont winked at Celia. "Then again, some things are worth risking life and limb for."
Celia looked startled, then cast Jackson a smug smile. With a snort, he drank more ale. Devonmont was really starting to irk him. They all were.
"So, Lord Devonmont," Celia said, turning her back on Jackson, "would you like me to show you the difference between a percussion gun and a flintlock?"
"By all means," Devonmont replied. "Though I can't promise to remember any of it later, explain away. — Sabrina Jeffries

I'm not going to pick her up and carry her screaming to the basement," Trent said. "It's a workday. Besides, she has a crutch."
"Crutch or no, she's hurt!" Ceri protested.
"I mean," Trent said intently, "she can hit me with it if I do something she doesn't like. — Kim Harrison

Felicity Shaw," she says and sticks out a hand. Her suit is paler today but no less severe. "You look like you're feeling a little bit better, Detective." "Thank you," I say. "Fresh air and exercise. Drugs and doctors. All that." She doesn't smile. I think Swann would have smiled at that. Which I hope makes me funny and not Swann a woman with a terrible sense of humor. Could go either way on that one, though. — Jonathan Wood

Once I dated a woman I only liked 43%.
So I only listened to 43% of what she said.
Only told the truth 43% of the time.
And only kissed with 43% of my lips.
Some say you can't quantify desire,
attaching a number to passion isn't right,
that the human heart doesn't work like that.
But for me it does-I walk down the street
and numbers appear on the foreheads
of the people I look at. In bars, it's worse.
With each drink, the numbers go up
until every woman in the joint has a blurry
eighty something above her eyebrows,
and the next day I can only remember 17%
of what actually happened. That's the problem
with booze-it screws with your math. — Jeffrey McDaniel

She even told me how to treat a girl on a date, which was very interesting. She said that with a girl like Mary Elizabeth, you shouldn't tell her she looks pretty. You should tell her how nice her outfit is because her outfit is her choice whereas her face isn't. She also said that with some girls, you should do things like open car doors and buy flowers, but with Mary Elizabeth (especially since it's the Sadie Hawkins' dance), I shouldn't do that. So, I asked her what I should do, and she said that I should ask a lot of questions and not mind when Mary Elizabeth doesn't stop talking. I said that it didn't sound very democratic, but Sam said she does it all the time with boys. — Stephen Chbosky

And I've got a lot of weight behind me."

Shadow grinned, a charming boyishness shining through. "Yes, but it's like ninety percent baby and water. You'll lose it all once she's born."

"Really?"

"I have no idea, but it sounds good, doesn't it? — Ellis Leigh

It's not like I got caught masturbating, for chrissake; she doesn't know me, why the hell would she care if I'm superstitious? - Karen — S.D. Perry

Brother - "
"I thought we'd already decided we weren't that, either."
Grabbing his shoulder, I stopped him before he could reach the door. "Look, I'm sorry! I'm sorry I did this to you."
He turned to look at me, his brow raised high. "You're sorry. So, what ... we go back to being cool again?"
"I don't know, man. But we can't do this."
"And why can't we? You couldn't stand to let me have one normal day with her. Have I done anything to you since she and I broke up?" He paused, but I didn't respond. "No. I haven't. You dealt with it by being an ass, so let me deal with this my way. And my way doesn't include acting like you didn't steal my girl from me."
"I didn't steal Harper!"
He opened the door and took a step outside, his shaking hand gripping the outer knob. When he looked back at me, his eyes were flat and lifeless. "You stole my entire world. — Molly McAdams

They're still going to make fun of me," she blurted. "This fight doesn't change that. You can't start kicking people every time someone thinks I'm weird or ugly ... Promise me you won't try. Promise me that you'll try not to care."
He pulled on her hand again, and shook his head, gingerly.
"Because it doesn't matter to me, Park. If you like me," she said, "I swear to God, nothing else matters. — Rainbow Rowell

Bloody North," said Shev as she picked her way towards it and had a tentative drag at the ropes. "Even their bridges are shit."
"Their men are good," said Javre, clattering out with no fear whatsoever. "Far from subtle, but enthusiastic."
"Great," said Shev as she edged after, exchanging a mutually suspicious glance with a crow perched atop one of the posts. "Men. The one thing that interests me not at all."
"You should try them."
"I did. Once. Bloody useless. Like trying to have a conversation with someone who doesn't even speak your language, let alone understand the topic."
"Some are certainly more horizontally fluent than others."
"No. Just no. The hairiness, and the lumpiness, and the great big fumbling fingers and ... balls. I mean, balls. What's that about? That is one singularly unattractive piece of anatomy. That is just ... that is bad design, is what that is. — Joe Abercrombie

She doesn't like the makeup, either. "I once nearly blinded myself with a mascara brush," she says, looking querulously at my eyeliner. I don't want to point out that that says far more about her than it does about me. She might as well be telling me a story of how she once confused Push for Pull on a door, then banning me from using doors again - "Lest you also be betrayed by doors. — Caitlin Moran

I thought this was a cookout. You know, dogs and burgers, Tater Tots, ambrosia salad" Dexter picked up a box of Twinkies, tossing them into the cart. "And Twinkies."
"It is," ... "Except that it's a cookout thrown by my mother."
"And?"
"And my mother doesn't cook."
He looked at me waiting.
"At all. My mother doesn't cook at all."
"She must cook sometimes."
"Nope."
"Everyone can make scrambled eggs, Remy. It's programmed into you at birth, the default setting. Like being able to swim and knowing not to mix pickles with oatmeal. You just KNOW. — Sarah Dessen

If she has given you children remind yourself every day of the second, third, fourth, fifth, and sixth words in this sentence. If you hurt her in ways that are irreparable I will send out people to hurt you back, sorry, but it has to be like that. Yes, you may have had a difficult childhood, but please allow me to introduce myself: Hello, I am the woman who doesn't give a shit. Make her something warm to drink in the mornings and give her time to begin speaking; only rush at her with an embrace or a gemstone. Wildflowers. A love note. Yeats. — Mary-Louise Parker

I smiled engagingly and showed her my investigator license. A hell of a picture. "Doesn't look like you." "It's me, I swear." I struck a similar pose, turning my head a little to the side, and blasted her with the same full wattage smile. "See?" She shrugged. "The guy in the picture is cuter." I wasn't sure if I should be offended. After all, it was me in the picture, and she was calling that guy cute. "So — J.R. Rain

No, no, no. No way!" I shook my head and looked at the offending black motorcycle. "I am not getting on that thing!"
"Sophie, it's a motorcycle, it doesn't bite."
I turned my head to look at the beast. "Really? It looks like it could bite, to me."
"Please, Sophie," he held out a helmet.
I crossed my arms over my chest. "What if I fall off?"
"You're supposed to hang on to me, Soph. What happened to my mighty little she-wolf?"
"She packed her bags and left," I said. — Micalea Smeltzer

He started to smile, a look that was dangerously mischievous. "The money's good at the fights, but it doesn't make for much of a career. I thought maybe you could pay me in food." She laughed. "After seeing the evidence of your appetite in there, I think I'd lose my shirt with a deal like that." She flushed the second she'd said it - no doubt he was now imagining her with her shirt off. Yet, — Marissa Meyer

She sat for a moment, feeling the rhythmic rattle of the train's motion. "Does it ever bother you to be in his shadow, Wayne?"
"Who? Wax? I mean, he's been putting on weight, but he's not that fat yet, is he?" He grinned, though that faded when she didn't smile back. And, in an uncharacteristic moment of solemnity, he slid his boots off the table and rested one elbow on it instead, leaning toward her.
"Nah," he said after some thought. "Nah, it doesn't. But I don't care much if people look at me or not. Sometimes my life is easier if they ain't looking at me, ya know? I like listening. — Brandon Sanderson

And then she is kissing me, right here on the sidewalk on a foggy summer night. Violet is kissing me, and everything is perfect. The kiss doesn't end. We are not two girls on a polite first date, bestowing a customary good-night peck.
No.
We are kissing like girls who have ached for each other for years who never even spoke but somehow exchanged I love yous anyway. — Nina LaCour

I said, I'm Little Red Riding Hood' Paula gave him a seductive curtsy. 'You know, like in the fairy tale, but much naughtier.'

Duncan meandered in her direction with an odd, if not troubling expression, as if he knew something she didn't. It quickly faded, becoming a sly grin.

'So I guess that makes me the big bad wolf then, doesn't it? — Johnny Stone

If anybody studying psychology wants a concrete example of what a narcissist looks like, I advise them to consider any man who cheats on his wife. These guys are the textbook me-firsters, the ones who think the rules don't apply to them, the ones who tell themselves as long as she doesn't know, there's no harm done. No woman needs to sleep with these guys. There are so many single self-absorbed narcissists who will fuck you poorly. — Julie Klausner

I like to play pranks on my girlfriend, you know, keep things fresh for me, make me laugh, you know? She hates it. But like, the other night, I put Saran wrap over the toilet seat, you know, which doesn't sound that original, but she's bulimic. — Anthony Jeselnik

DEAR MISS MANNERS:
I a tired of being treated like a child. My father says it's because I am a child
I am twelve-and-a-half years old
but it still isn't fair. If I go into a store to buy something, nobody pays any attention to me, or if they do, it's to say, "Leave that alone," "Don't touch that," although I haven't done anything. My money is as good as anybody's, but because I am younger, they feel they can be mean to me. It happens to me at home, too. My mother's friend who comes over after dinner sometimes, who doesn't have any children of her own and doesn't know what's what, likes to say to me, "Shouldn't you be in bed by now,dear?" when she doesn't even know what my bedtime is supposed to be. Is there any way I can make these people stop?
GENTLE READER:
Growing up is the best revenge. — Judith Martin

Ram, can't you see it doesn't matter anymore what I do, but you, you're still needed at home. You go. If my people are still there, tell them the truth. Let them rejoice that Fergox took me away before I could do any more damage to my country."

"No, I refuse that mission, Princess. See, you are still ordering me around like a ruler--it's in you, it's what you are meant to be, no matter what others are telling you. I've given my word that I'll only escape with you by my side. So forget about yourself for a moment: if you care anything about me, about the fate of my country and yours, you are coming with me or I don't go."

"But, Ram--"

"You've got my little horse still?"

She nodded.

"I believe that in the Islands it is understood that when you accepted it, you took responsibility for my soul. I'm holding you to that, Tashi. — Julia Golding

I do whatever comes my way. But I get burned out on stage. It's a lonely world. I think part of the romanticism about being on the road is you get to meet a lot of - my mom once told me, "You've probably got a woman at every port." Like I'm a pirate. Obviously she doesn't know her son that well. — Zach Galifianakis

Minutes later I am discovering what it's like to be driven by a woman who thinks the world will end if she doesn't keep the gas pedal firmly against the floor and that apparently there's no such thing as the "Oh My Fuck God" handle bar for me to hang onto in an early-eighties Caddy that's the color of shit. Mrs. — T.J. Klune

Darla shook her head, a small smirk on her lips. "You're such a mom," she told Katherine.
Katherine stared at her, puzzled. "You're a mom, too," she said softly.
"No, I gave birth. That doesn't make me a mom. Not like you."
A look passed between the two women like none they had ever shared before. For a split second, Katherine felt a slight connection. "Well, you rest. I'll check on you later." She turned and left the room, a funny, unexplainable feeling inside her. — Deanna Lynn Sletten

I knew I wasn't alone. I haven't written like that since Bright Side was around. I always feel her in my heart these days, because that's where she lives. I walk around with her inside me every day. And it doesn't hurt anymore. But the presence I felt tonight wasn't internal. It was physical. Tangible. Like someone was in the room with me, feeding me. Little did I know, she was just on the other side of the door. Filling my soul. — Kim Holden

Did Jane tell you all she knows about bears?"
"Yes," the king replied. "Don't act like food, inexplicably double your height and weight, and play dead unless it doesn't work."
"She didn't, perhaps, mention how me might kill the beast?"
"No," Edward said. "Her information was more the useless type. — Cynthia Hand

Luisa was on her knees on the bed, naked, my 9mm in her hands and aimed right at me. I automatically had my gun pointed back at her. The sexiest Mexican standoff I'd ever been involved in. "What are you doing?" I asked, taking a cautious step toward her, not lowering my gun for a second. "Leaving," she answered, her eyes hard. She was distracting as all hell, her tits and pussy and that gun. I don't think I'd ever been so turned on so quick and in such an untimely situation. "It doesn't look like it." "I'm going to ask you nicely to let me leave, and if you don't, I'll shoot you." A grin broke out across my face. My god, she couldn't be more perfect. "If you shot me, you'd kill me," I said, taking another step. "Then who would make you come all the time? — Karina Halle

Why are you all buttoned up like that?" Cameron ran his gaze down the blackberry-shaped buttons of her bodice.[ ... ] "You were happy to bare all last night," Cameron said. He let his mallet handler hover an inch from her chest. "Your bodice was down here."
Ainsley cleared her throat. "Low neckline for evening, high for morning."[ ... ]
"This doesn't suit you," Cameron said.
"I can't help the fashion, Lord Cameron."
Cameron poked the top button with his gloved finder. "Undo this."
Ainsley jumped. "What?"
"Unbutton your damned frock."
She nearly choked. "Why?"
"Because I want you to." Cameron's smile spread across his face, slow and sinful, and his voice went low. Dangerous. "Tell me, Mrs. Douglas. How many buttons will you undo for me? — Jennifer Ashley

The other night I took her on-out of pity-and what do you think the crazy bitch had done to herself? She had shaved it clean ... not a speck of hair on it. Did you ever have a woman who shaved her twat? It's repulsive, ain't it? And it's funny, too. Sort of mad like. It doesn't look like a twat any more: it's like a dead clam or something." He describes to me how, his curiosity aroused, he got out of bed and searched for his flashlight. "I made her hold it open and I trained the flashlight on it. You should have seen me ... it was comical. I got so worked up about it that I forgot all about her. I never in my life looked at a cunt so seriously. — Henry Miller

Yes, she doesn't really look like either of us, does she? Perhaps she's a girl who's fallen madly in love with me and persists in following me wherever I go."
"My talent is shape-shifting, Will, not acting," said Tessa, and at that Jem laughed out loud. — Cassandra Clare

If anyone has a problem with Blaire then they need to take it up with me. She has a job here as long as she wants one. The three of you may not like it but I personally don't give a flying fuck. So get over it. She doesn't need this shit right now. Back off. Are we understood? — Abbi Glines

You should have know this, Mari, that I would help you."
She was smiling again as she wiped her eyes. "Maybe I should have known. But I didn't, Alain. You are a Mage, and sometimes my memories of what happened in the waste and in Ringhmon and at Dorcastle have seemed like some kind of hallucination. I didn't know how you would react when I found you. I was actually ... Alain, I was afraid that when I found you I'd discover that you'd gone back to being like you were when we first met. That you'd just look at me as if I didn't exist and walk away. I should have realized that wouldn't happen. I should have known that you'd help without question. You keep saying that truth doesn't exist, buy you are true. There's nothing false about you. — Jack Campbell

reached behind me to adjust the stockings again. "Your mother doesn't like me." "She just doesn't want to lose me. That's how mothers are. — Paula McLain

His name feels like a secret, and now he's wearing it on his wrist. I want to know all about this girl who put it there. What she looks like. If she's got freckles, fair hair or dark, like his. If she's scrappy or etheral, funny or serious, scrape-kneed or ladylike. I know that she loves him, so I want to know everything else. But West doesn't want to share her with me. I shouldn't keep trying to scale these walls he puts up. I'm a terrible climber. — Robin York

I know I might look like a ball of fluff," she said, "but I'm not. Not even close. And the fact that I get up each morning and put a damn smile on my face is the same as ... Batman putting on his cape."
"I
"
"I'm not done. It's ... protection. It's my shield. It's me waving my middle finger to the world because I choose to be happy. The bottom line, Luke, is that I know what matters and what doesn't. — Jill Shalvis

It's not about you it's about human behavior. You know how there will be a report on TV of some woman who kills herself and her kids, and everyone acts like that's so shocking"
I nod "I guess so"
"What's shocking," Cheryl says, "is that it doesn't happen more often. What's shocking is that everyone says they fell in love with their child the minute it was born, what's shocking is that no one is honest about how hard it all is. So-am I surprised that some lady drowns her children and shoots herself? No. I think it's sad; I wish people had noticed that she was struggling, I wish she could have asked for help. What shocks me is how alone we all are — A.M. Homes

Thinking about how much I love her makes me hurt because of what she did. It hurts because I feel like I don't even know her. I feel like there's a side to her that I never even knew existed.
That's not what scares me the most, though. What scares me the most is that I'm afraid the only side of her I do know ... doesn't really exist at all. — Colleen Hoover

Hey, here come our ladies. Just looking at them gives you the uh, doesn't it?" McNab gave the sound a push that was unmistakably sexual as he grinned down the long corridor where Peabody got off the glide with Eve.

Then he shot Roarke a quick look. "I mean the uh me for mine, you for yours. It's not like I get the uh for the lieutenant, for which she would kick my ass, then leave you to turn what was left of it into bloody dust. Which She-Body would then grind into the earth before she set it on fire. I was just saying."

"I know what you were saying." McNab could, invariably, entertain him. "And I couldn't agree more, with everything including the bloody dust. They are compelling women. — J.D. Robb

My mother's not a political person. She just doesn't want me to be mean ... sometimes I have to be mean. It's like a parent or a teacher. Sometimes for the good of everybody you have to be a little bit strong, a little bit confrontational. — Bill O'Reilly

She snorted and went back to the cake. As she smoothed on the last of the icing, she frowned. "It doesn't really look like suklaada cake, does it?"
No, but he wasn't going to admit that. "Looks good to me.

-Brianna & Aeron — Savannah Stuart

He looked like he wanted to eat you."
With that, I throw my head back and laugh. "That man has no problem finding a meal. I highly doubt he's starving."
She scrunches her nose to show me she doesn't agree. "Well, maybe he just spotted something new on the menu. You know men and their food; they have to try a little bit of everything until they're completely satisfied. — K.K. Allen

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

"I don't know. I spent most of my life moving around. My dad and I had just settled in one place when all this happened. I ... " She shrugged. "I guess I'm hoping it doesn't last much longer. I want a home." She glanced over her shoulder. "I know you do, too, even if you don't like to admit it."
I thought she was talking to me. Then Derek stepped into the doorway.
"He wasn't eavesdropping," she said to me. "He just doesn't like me being alone with strangers in the house." She aimed a pointed look his way. "Even if I end up rescuing him from danger as often as he rescues me." — Kelley Armstrong

Its hard to say what was happening inside her head. Her brain doesn't function quite like most people's to begin with and maybe, under a lot of stress, she just lost the ability to hope.
Dev pondered this, hope as an ability.
I guess that's what's so hard for me to get to, the no hope. To think that, of all the potential scenarios out there, there's not a single good one? It just seems like we- as human beings- know so much, but its nothing compared to what we don't know. The universe surprises us, right? That's just what it does. So how could she be so one hundred percent positive that nothing good would happen? — Marisa De Los Santos

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

I know, people were like, "It's all right that she's gay, but she doesn't have to look so gay." Trust me - I'm never cutting my hair again! — Rosie O'Donnell

If you ask me if I'm imagining it again, I'm going to punch you out, Dead Man Walking."
Michael raised his eyebrows and glanced at Eve. "He doesn't sound crazy."
"Er," she clarified, "crazier. He sounds like he's back to normal, which is baseline crazy. — Rachel Caine

Well, you're lucky, that's all. Even if he is a vamp now. You must be pretty used to all sorts of weird stuff, being a Shadowhunter, so I bet it doesn't faze you.
"It fazes me," Clary said, more sharply then she'd intended. "I'm not Jace."
The smirk widened. " No one is. And I get the feeling he knows it.
"Whats that supposed to mean?"
"Oh, you know. Jace reminds me of an old boyfriend. Some guys look at you like they want sex. Jace looks at you like you've already had sex, it was great, and now you're just friends- even though you want more. Drives girls crazy. You know what i mean?
Yes, Clary thought. "No." she said. — Cassandra Clare

She looks up. I've caught her by surprise. Her face opens up and all of a sudden it's like that paper mask is transparent. I'm looking right through it, and I get a flash of some kind of life we could've had - barbecues, dogs, kids flopping over us in bed - it rolls through me fast but strong and clear, like one of those cooking smells that blows in the window so sharp you can pick out the ingredients. And then it's gone. It's gone, and Holly's holding my hand. Finally, after that long long wait, her hand is back on mine. Dry cool fingers, slim. The rings loose. I close my eyes. My hand is so hot, I feel my pulse in every finger. I'm afraid she'll let go but she doesn't let go. She keeps her hand around mine and it's like she's holding all of me in her cool sweetness, calming my fever back down. — Jennifer Egan

There's nothing.
Nothing to hold on to while the current takes me.
Whatever I might have had until today, I've lost.
I feel my love for her, swelling; bloating into something that's about to explode, like an abscess that's been allowed to rot for too long, but the pain drowns it so completely I know I'm never coming back out. This feeling, that you're choking and that your body is underwater, immersed in the ocean, a dense flood that overpowers your breathing abilities, and your will to survive gets drowned right along with it. And as I'm drowning I see her face and hear her voice - and it doesn't give me hope, it terrifies me. I'm terrified because I know she's going to be the death of me. I'm terrified because I know I won't be able to cope. I'm terrified because the darkness is the only true friend I've ever had and if it wants to embrace me I don't have the power to make it stop. — Kady Hunt

I'm - I'm Marjorie, a fourteen-year-old girl, scared of everything, who doesn't know why she hears voices that tell her confusing things. And I try to be good and I try. Try not to listen to them.
Are you scared and confused like I am? I think everyone is secretly like me. — Paul Tremblay