She's A Hot Mess Quotes & Sayings

l. She
dared one more quick look at the tat, but her attention soon
moved to the size of the muscle on which it had been inked.
Definitely leer-worthy. When he passed beside her on his
way toward the back of the room, she caught a whiff of sexy
aftershave and stifled a groan. Millicent was going to be all
a-twitter over him. Tara just knew it.
When she heard someone behind her whisper, "He's
sooo hot," she couldn't help but silently agree.
But it was another girl's answer that made her curious.
"Yeah . . . but no one in her right mind would mess with
him."
"Bethany did."
"But not for long."
"Yeah. Right."
Ahah. Bethany must be the girl glaring at him beside the
teacher's desk. — Sharon Sala

In my mind, a first date really boils down to selling what you have, what you almost have and what you wish you had. First, what you have: wit, humor, intelligence, beauty, confidence. Second, you want to convey that you have ambition and a desire to grow as a person but not talk yourself up too much - - basically what I almost have. And third, you have to reveal that you're human but not a high-maintenance hot mess. This requires being slightly exposed by showing that you don't have it all together, and there are things that you still want and need, or things you wish you had. Of course, all of this must be accomplished while not being too serious or too silly, and while looking particularly cute. Not to mention being mysterious enough to leave them wanting more. Dang, this dating thing is hard! — Megan Carson

You know they say confession is good for the soul, right?

"I think that applies unless you're a priest. And you dont look like ANY priest I've ever seen."

"It's true. I am having trouble with purity of thoughts at the moment..."

She hadn't had a pure thought since she'd met him... — Amy Andrews

In almost any situation, it is far more devastating to keep your icy cool while the other person gets herself in a flush-cheeked, teary-eyed hot mess yelling in your face. — Kimora Lee Simmons

On my season of 'Survivor,' the tribes were split: a tribe of men versus a tribe of women. Even though the women kicked the men's butts at the first two challenges, we were a hot mess at camp. — Jenna Morasca

Rebel, rebel, you've torn your dress. Rebel, rebel, your face is a mess. Rebel, rebel, how could they know? Hot tramp, I love you so. — David Bowie

I didn't mean to mess things up, I don't know what got into me-"
He rubs his temples. "Please don't apologize.It's not your fault."
"But if I hadn't dragged you out to dance-"
"Anna." Etienne speaks slowly. "You didn't make me do anything I didn't want to do."
My face grows hot as the knowledge explodes inside of me like dynamite.
He likes me.Etienne really does like me. — Stephanie Perkins

Okay, so how, exactly, did I get into this mess - up onstage at a comedy club, baking like a bag of French fries under a hot spotlight that shows off my sweat stains( including one that sort of looks like Jabba the Hutt), with about a thousand beady eyeballs drilling into me? — James Patterson

If I'm going to be a mess, I might as well be a hot mess, right? — Mindy Kaling

...my life is the train wreck. You, my dear, are the conductor on the Hot Mess Express — B.L. Berry

I puked rainbows all over my childhood, and it felt so good. — L.K. Elliott

Got you all hot and bothered, did I?"

He sneered. "Exactly as you intended."

"Well, in a few hours, we can fuck until we're both limp and exhausted," she promised, giving him an exaggerated leer.

Kent wrapped an arm around her waist and pulled her barely clothed body back against him. "I'm not waiting for a few hours," he countered huskily, his mouth against the side of her throat and the vibrations making her shiver.

She shook her head, although she'd felt tingling pleasure between her legs at his words. "You'll have to. I'm all fixed up and pretty now and you're not going to get me sweaty and mess up my makeup before everyone arrives."

His other arm went around her too and his hands moved up to cup her breasts over the lace of her bra. Then his pelvis pushed into the top of her ass and she felt the hard evidence of his arousal. "I won't mess up your makeup. — Zannie Adams

I think you just made me forget my own name. Not even amnesia managed that. — Amy Andrews

Do you still want Ren?" I listened to my own heartbeat for a minute before answering. "Yes." "That's one hot mess, Cal." Ansel smiled at me. — Andrea Cremer

I'm tired of people disturbing the peace, getting on the radio and sounding a hot mess. If I can tell what the note really is, why let them go to the note they think it is? I've got that mama vibe. I don't look at it with an ego. — Betty Wright

When the call came for the factory fire, Logan was spoiling for a fight...His degree of pissed-off had reached epic proportions.

The fire was everything Logan needed right now. Big and raging and hungry...

He couldn't do a damn thing about his private life but he could beat this motherfucker into submission. — Amy Andrews

Wait, this guy has a kid?" Elliot gasped over the phone. "What hot mess have you gotten yourself into, girl?"
"Shut up, Elliot. Like you haven't slept with a load of hairy daddies in your time."
"But they weren't, like, actual daddies. — Leta Blake

I never thought I'd get a second chance at a first time with you — Amy Andrews

We said a week, right?" Saint asks me.
"A week for ... " I'm confused for a moment, but then I remember our conversation onboard The Toy, about him ... and me. And I know exactly what he means. "Oh, that." A hot flush creeps along my body, spreading down, down, down, all the way to my toes. "Yes, that's what we said," I admit.
"How about now?" he surprises me by saying.
Tingles and lightning bolts race through my bloodstream. The sensation covers my body from corner to corner. I try to suppress it; it's wrong to feel it. But I can't stop it, I can't stop what he does to me. "What happened to your legendary patience?"
"How about now, Rachel?" he insists.
All my guilt, my insecurities, and my fear are suddenly weighing down on me. It's really hard to speak as I shake my head in the dark. "I'm a mess, Saint," I choke out.
"Be my mess, then. — Katy Evans

Laura looked up at him with dead blue eyes.
I want to be alive again," she said. "Not in this half-life. I want to be really alive. I want to feel my heart pumping in my chest again. I want to feel blood moving through me - hot, and salty, and real. It's weird, you don't think you can feel it, the blood, but believe me, when it stops flowing, you'll know."
She rubbed her eyes, smudging her face with red from the mess on her hands.
Look, it's hard. You know why dead people only go out at night, puppy? Because it's easier to pass for real, in the dark. And I don't want to have to pass. I want to be alive. — Neil Gaiman

Steaming, Sebastian flies up out of his seat and makes a dramatic exit out the front door.
"Is he always so crazy?" I asked.
"Yeah. But he's a hot fuck. You'll see."
"No thanks... I'll pass. That kid's severely psychotic."
"He's just a jealous mess."
"Why did you marry him?"
"We're not married. We're in an open relationship."
"Thank God. I was seriously worried."
"YEAH. Well I better go find him- before he slits his wrists."
"GOOD IDEA. Better take some duct tape-- just in case you're too late. — Giorge Leedy

It was only outside in the sun and heat that she began to feel the weight of what she had done. Her feet were terribly hot and slipping in her shoes, and the sand worked its way in. With each step she fell more into herself, and her stomach roiled with the curdled truth of her betrayal. I can see you, she imagined God saying. The basket of eggs hit her hip and one shell cracked, freeing yolk and white into a slippery mess, which dripped through the wicker and landed in thick shiny drops on her skirt. * — Rae Meadows

I'm not ill like that," she groaned. He sat on her bed, peeling back the blanket. A servant entered, frowning at the mess on the floor, and shouted for help.
"Then it what way?"
"I,uh ... " Her face was so hot she thought it would melt onto the floor. Oh you idiot. "My monthly cycles finally came back!"
His face suddenly matched hers and he stepped away, dragging his hand through his short hair. "I-if ... Then I'll take my leave," he stammered, and bowed. Celaena raised an eyebrow, and then, despite herself, smiled as he left the room as quick as his feet could go without running, tripping slightly in the doorway as he staggered into the rooms beyond. — Sarah J. Maas

Gloria watched the swollen white orb of a hot-air balloon rising over Navy Pier and knew she had to break it off with Oliver, for he was the type who would never enjoy hot-air balloons, Van Morrison songs, or mess, whether from orgasm or otherwise. But who was she to be dreaming about mess today? — Andrea Kayne Kaufman

It wasn't a hard kiss, but it wasn't particularly soft either. It was just perfect. The perfect amount of sweet and hot, and...
She put her hands on his chest, shoving him backward. "Please don't mess with me. Please. Just talk to me."
Jackson's eyes shadowed with regret as he slowly released her wrist, lifting a hand to her face. The back of his fingers stroked her cheek softly. "Talk to you?"
She nodded.
"What shall I talk about?" he whispered.
"How about the fact that you're supposed to be in Houston right now? It's the only reason I came over."
"I was in Houston," he said.
"For what, an hour?" she asked.
"Probably about that, yeah." He was watching her mouth as his thumb brushed softly over her lips.
Her breath caught at the tenderness in his touch - in his eyes.
"What happened?"
His eyes flicked up to hers. "You want the full story, or the important part?"
"The important part," she whispered.
"I love you. — Lauren Layne

I was actually kind of a hot mess in high school. I did a lot of things in high school I'm not proud of. I wasn't a good student and I wasn't particularly a good daughter. I wasn't very engaged. — Sarah Dessen

He wouldn't spend another standing in the darkness, hot and sick and shaking inside with a confused mess of feelings that weren't worth analyzing. That he shouldn't have felt anyway.
With Rachel gone it was like balancing on the edge of a cliff - and all the little wildflowers, the netting of grass and roots that kept the cliff from sliding into the sea below, were gone. It was just Matt standing there looking down, waiting to fall.
Even Rachel's memory, the sweet recollection of all they had built, all they had shared, was no longer strong enough to fight gravity. From the moment he had looked across the wet grass and seen Nathan Doyle standing in the shadow of a stone saber-toothed tiger, something had changed inside him. Something battened down had torn free, like a sail taking its first deep breath of sea air.
It terrified him.
And at the same time it exhilarated him.
Which terrified him all the more. — Josh Lanyon

Instead of getting my gold retirement watch and landing on my feet with a white picket fence and a satellite dish, I ended up base-jumping from the kettle into the fire. All because of one last job. But what's done is done. If your interested, you can read about the whole hot mess in The Intern's Handbook. You won't find it at Barnes & Noble, but I hear the feds have a few copies lying around, and I wouldn't be surprised if you could download it for free on Russian iTunes. I'm told it's an excellent beach/airplane/bathroom/killing-time-after-a-motel-tryst read. — Shane Kuhn

Communication is like a pressure relief valve for your body. When a little pressure gets cooked up inside and needs to be released, you can gently turn the nozzle and release it slowly and gracefully until you feel better, by way of a productive conversation. But if you choose to ignore the warning signals and leave that pressure inside, it's going to grow and inevitably explode and make a mess, by way of an overreaction and possibly an argument. — L.K. Elliott

Every relationship will suffer to some degree without finding self-acceptance and treating yourself like your own best friend. — L.K. Elliott

You know you're a hot mess when the only person buying you drinks all night is yourself. — Chelsea Handler

I never thought I'd refer to myself as a hot mess. — Chris O'Dowd

It was him against the flames and he revelled in it.
Logan was good at his job. Exceptionally good. He had the Knight gift for it.
There was no fear of the fire that would turn most mortals to jelly because flames licked in his blood.
To him it was a battle - good against evil.

And he was the good guy. — Amy Andrews

Her hair is a hot mess around her face, just the way I like it - bed-head always makes me want to fuck. Then again, pretty much everything does. — Karen Marie Moning

Essentially, the Tea Party are the Hell's Angels, but with sun visors instead of switch blades. They push macaroni instead of meth. Mess with the Tea Party and they'll put your dog in an American flag sweater on a hot day. — Greg Gutfeld

I thought wulfen howls were bad when I heard them in my own garage. Hearing the high, glassy cry in the middle of the woods at night is infinitely worse, because the howls sounds like it could be words if you just listen hard enough. The horrible thing is that it pulls on that deep hidden part in every person-the blind animal part.
The part that knows you're the prey.
But the worst thing about it?
Is when it sounds right behind you, and something hits you from behind, tumbling you into another thorn-spiked mess of vines and branches, leaf mold and dirt filling your nose, and a huge, hot, hairy hand winds in your hair. — Lilith Saintcrow

There was nothing normal or typical about our love. We should've been one hot mess of madness for all that we'd suffered, but just as a flower grows from the sky's tears, our love grew from pain. It blossomed in darkness and thrived with time. — Keri Lake

In the country, a good he-snowstorm makes a lovely design for putting on a holiday greetings card. In the city it just makes an infernal mess for the street-cleaning department to wrestle with. ... By midday of next day it would be licked to a custard - molten into puddles of foggy slush where cellar furnaces exhaled their hot breath up out of sidewalk gratings, roiled and fouled and crunched down beneath the heels and the tires of the town, flung up in crumply billows by the conscripted shovel crews, and under the park trees and on the park meadows would show a stark and grayish cast like the face of a grimy pauper whose corpse the undertaker scanted. And the longer it stayed there the sootier and the dirtier and the deader-looking it would get to be. You may worry the city with your winter weathers; you cannot keep her licked for any great length of time. — Irvin S. Cobb

Have you ever heard the expression 'one hot mess?' I think the term was custom-made for the mayor of Toronto, Rob Ford. — Henry Rollins

My appearance was cringe-worthy. If I asked the mirror who it considered to be the fairest of them all, it'd reply with, "Damn girl, it ain't you. You're a hot mess. — R.S. Grey

You said he was a perfectly adequate lover."

"Perfectly adequate? I dont suppose I ever said that about you?" She only had to look and Logan and those rough hands to know he'd be a thoroughly, mind-blowingly, head-bangingly, DIRTY lover."

"I bloody hope not. — Amy Andrews

It takes talent to be a gawking hot mess, and I am a gawking hot mess to the third power. — Cora Carmack

I like to compare my mental stress capacity to a dinner plate. Most people have moderate amounts of stress in their life, like a nice balanced meal. The food represents different stresses that occur in our lives, past and present. — L.K. Elliott

For as I sit there, in pain, I suddenly notice I have changed. I am not self-loathing anymore. These billion cheap blackbirds inside me - beaking the wires of the cage, frantic - are now on the ground, sleeping. This billion eyed mess, which I cannot comprehend, contain or name, has now disappeared - replaced by these hot, red lines on my leg and arm. — Caitlin Moran

When I do my hair down, it just does not look good. It's just stringy, and it's like a hot mess. — Kourtney Kardashian

So let me help you out. My favorite color is-hell, I don't know. I've never cared enough to think about it. My favorite movie is-what else-ZOMBIELAND. But not because the good guys win in the end, though that's a plus, but because Emma Stone is hot."
I snorted. He was SUCH a guy.
"My favorite band is-"
"Let me guess," I interjected. "White Zombie? Slayer?"
"Red. And no, not just because I want zombies to bleed.What about you? Who do you like? Because honestly, I'm surprised you know White Z and Slayer."
"I like Red,too, but I'm partial to Skillet. Used to listen to them with my sister. But why wouldn't I know the other bands?"
"You look so angelic."
"And do you think angels are hot?" I asked primly, trying to play it cool so that I wouldn't reveal what a mess I was on the inside. All this time, he'd wanted to get to know me and date me. What craziness!
"The hottest. — Gena Showalter