She's Not Interested In Me Quotes & Sayings

This is what I get very upset at ... ' Temple, who was driving suddenly faltered and wept. 'I've read that libraries are where immortality lies ... I don't want my thoughts to die with me ... I want to have done something ... I'm not interested in power, or piles of money. I want to leave something behind. I want to make a positive contribution - know that my life has meaning, Right now, I'm talking about things at the very core of my experience.' I was stunned. As I stepped out of the car to say goodbye, I said, 'I'm going to hug you. I hope you don't mind.' I hugged her - and (I think) she hugged me back. — Oliver Sacks

In the Ottoman Empire,' she began, 'the camel traders have stopping places along their trade routes called caravanserai. Sometimes they are hundreds of miles apart, over desert or mountain range, but they travel safe in the knowledge that there will be a place where they can shelter and find succour at the end of their journey. Even if they have never been that way before, they are sure that there will be such a place; that sooner or later, they will find a caravanserai.' Annibale sat forward, interested. ' How do they know?' 'They do not know. They have faith. 'He sat back again. 'I think Annibale did too. That is why my mother named me so.' She could see that it cost him to talk of her. 'She liked the story. She said no one could know what lay beyond today, but you had to hope, and be brave, and trust that all would be well. — Marina Fiorato

Let me repeat, she is not a girl I'm interested in having sex with. Not now or any time in the future. I will not have sex with her in a car. I will not have sex with her in a bar. I will not have sex with her in a tree. I will not have sex with her in a lavator-ee. I will not have sex with her in a chair. I will not have sex with her anywhere. — Tim Tharp

I'm not really interested in a ton of female musicians but there is something about Britney that compelled me - the way she sings and just the way she looks. — Lana Del Rey

She repeated what her mother had told me, that she had been moved when she heard me playing as she passed the house. She had seen me on the street a few times, too, and begun to worship me. She actually used that word: worship. It made me turn bright red. I mean, to be 'worshiped' by such a beautiful little doll of a girl! I don't think it was an absolute lie, though. I was in my thirties already, of course, and I could never be as beautiful and bright as she was, and I had no special talent, but I must have had something that drew her to me, something that was missing in her, I would guess. Which must have been what got her interested in my to begin with. I believe that now, looking back. And I'm not boasting. — Haruki Murakami

This is your baby sister, Christian. Her name is Mia."
Mommy lets me hold her. She is very small. With black, black hair.
She smiles. She has no teeth. I stick out my tongue. She has a bubbly laugh.
Mommy lets me hold the baby again. Her name is Mia.
I make her laugh. I hold her and hold her. She is safe when I hold her.
Elliot is not interested in Mia. She dribbles and cries.
And he wrinkles his nose when she does a poop.
When Mia is crying Elliot ignores her. I hold her and hold her and she stops.
She falls asleep in my arms.
"Mee a," I whisper.
"What did you say?! Mommy asks, and her face is white like a chalk.
"Mee a."
"Yes. Yes. Darling boy. Mia. Her name is Mia."
And Mommy starts to cry with happy, happy tears. — E.L. James

Then he realized that Salander was in costume. Usually her style was sloppy and rather tasteless. Blomkvist had assumed that she was not really interested in fashion, but that she tried instead to accentuate her own individuality. Salander always seemed to mark her private space as hostile territory, and he had thought of the rivets in her leather jacket as a defense mechanism, like the quills of a hedgehog. To everyone around her it was as good a signal as any: Don't try to touch me - it will hurt. — Stieg Larsson

I looked at her and she looked at me and we weren't walking. We were just standing there, and her eyes were so interesting. Not in the usual way of being interesting, like the extremely blue or extremely big of flanked by obscenely long lashes or anything. What interested me about the Duke's eyes was the complexity of the color- she always said they looked like the bottom of trash-can bins, a swirl of green and brown and yellow but she was underselling herself she always undersold herself. Christ it was hard to unthink — John Green

That kiss you gave me was the hottest kiss i've ever had. I pulled away because i was afraid i wouldn't be able to stop myself from ripping off your clothes. And that didn't seem like the right way to end a first date. I didn't want you to think that was all i was interested in."
She stared at him. There was silence again, but this time she didn't worry about how long it went on.
"Why didn't you tell me?" She said finally.
"I tried to, but every time i saw you afterward you disappeared. I got the feeling you were avoiding me."
"i didn't want things to be awkward."
"Yeah, there was nothing awkward about you hiding behind a plant when i came into the dining hall at lunch on wednesday."
"I wasn't hiding. I was, um, breathing. You know, oxygen. From the plant. Very oxygenated, that air is."
"Of course. I should have thought of that."
"It's a healthy thing. Not many people know about it. — Michele Jaffe

For me, it's not important whether [subjects] are naked, half-naked, or dressed. What I'm more interested in is how they present themselves: if someone is half-naked and having self-confidence or you have the feeling that she has or he has control of the situation. She likes to do it. Then I have nothing against it. But it's true that society doesn't talk about such issues. They just talk about whether there is a breast or not, but for me it's more interesting how the power game of camera and object is shown. And if it's a cool picture. — Pipilotti Rist

House Speaker Nancy Pelosi invited me to breakfast on the eighteenth. Five days before, she had issued a news release saying, "The president's strategy in Iraq has failed," and "The choice is between a Democratic plan for responsible redeployment and the president's plan for an endless war in Iraq." With those comments as backdrop, at the breakfast I urged her to pass the defense appropriations bill before October and to pass the War Supplemental in total, not to mete it out a few weeks or months at a time. I reminded her that the president had approved Petraeus's recommendation for a change of mission in December and told her that Petraeus and Crocker had recommended a sustainable path forward that deserved broad bipartisan support. She politely made clear she wasn't interested. I wasn't surprised. After all, one wouldn't want facts and reality - not to mention the national interest - to intrude upon partisan politics, would one? — Robert M. Gates

And in art class, he will discover that he's interested in boobs. Wish me luck."

"Good luck." I eyed her cleavage. "not that you need it."

She winked. "I know. — Jennifer L. Armentrout

So, you are not so much interested in exploring your feelings about Joy's betrayal. Or the failure of your relationship. You are merely giving me a tour of the museum.'
'The museum? ... I don't follow you.'
'Your museum of pain. Your sanctuary of justifiable indignation.'
'I, uh ... '
'We all superintend such a place, I suppose,' she said, 'although some of us are more painstaking curators than others. That is the category in which I would certainly put you, Dominick. You are a meticulous steward of the pain and injustices people have visited upon you. — Wally Lamb

Caleb," Lily whispered. He turned from the horses to glance at her curiously. "What?" "Indians," she managed to say. "Over there, on the rise!" He turned in a leisurely fashion to look toward the hillside, making no move to take his pistol from its holster or dive for the rifle Lily had seen him put under the seat back in Tylerville. "Son of a gun," he remarked, sounding interested but not alarmed. Impatient, Lily started to reach under the seat. "No sudden moves, sodbuster," Caleb warned calmly without even glancing in her direction. "They don't take well to things like that." Lily sat still as a stone, her fingers itching for the rifle even though she didn't have the faintest idea what to do with it. Do something! she wanted to scream as the Indians rode down the hill at a cautious pace. "They'll probably scalp me," she fretted through her teeth. "If they don't, I will," Caleb replied. At — Linda Lael Miller

P.S. I will give you a clue about the person I'm interested in. She gets a very cute dimple in her right cheek when she's trying not to smile. She has a very cute way of pronouncing th, and she wears a cute hat on cold days, which is like a French beret. I once had an appointment with her to Gaze into the Girl's Eyes, which she went and cancelled on me, and I've been waiting all term for a chance to Kiss the Girl. — Jaclyn Moriarty

He is looking down on the two crystal balls that the old man's foul, strong hands have rolled across to him. In one he sees Margaret, not in her raincoat and her nodding plumes, but as she is transfigured in the light of eternity. Long he looks there; then drops a glance to the other, just long enough to see that in its depths Kitty and I walk in bright dresses through our glowing gardens. We had suffered no transfiguration, for we are as we are, and there is nothing more to us. The whole truth about us lies in our material seeming. He sighs a deep sigh of delight and puts out his hand to the ball where Margaret shines. His sleeve catches the other one and sends it down to crash in a thousand pieces on the floor. The old man's smile continues to be lewd and benevolent; he is still not more interested in me than in the bare-armed woman. Chris is wholly inclosed in his intentness on his chosen crystal. No one weeps for this shattering of our world. — Rebecca West

She used to come home alone at two in the morning. When I asked if she wasn't afraid of sexual maniacs, she told me her method. When a sexual maniac approached, threatening, she would take his arm and say, "Come on, let's do it." And he would go away, bewildered.
If you're a sexual maniac, you don't want sex; you want the excitement of its theft, you want the victim's resistance and despair. If sex is handed to you on a platter, here it is, go to it, naturally you're not interested, otherwise what sort of sexual maniac would you bee? — Umberto Eco

I got a personal e-mail and went to their event because I couldn't believe that they were interested in me and I wanted to find out why," she said. But when she got there, she wasn't sure why she'd come in the first place. "I looked around and felt that I not only didn't belong with the group of people but that I didn't believe in what the organization stands for or does," she said. "There's definitely a compulsion element to it. You feel like so many people are doing it and talking about it all the time like it's interesting, so you start to wonder if maybe it really is. — Marina Keegan

Mama Lo can get a bit nasty whenever I play with the cubs. She thinks I'm going to eat one, but they're not to my taste. Too hairy. Now if she'd let me skin one, I might be interested." (Simi)
He laughed in spite of himself. "Are you joking about that?" (Gallagher)
"Oh no. I never joke about hairy food. It's disgusting." (Simi) — Sherrilyn Kenyon

I don't suppose you'd be interested in working part-time at the school?"
Adelai turned her head,met Keeley's eyes in the mirror above the bureau. "Are you offering me a job?"
"It sounds awfully strange when you put it that way, but yes. But don't do it because you feel obliged. Only if you think you'd have the time or the inclination."
Adelia spun around, her face brilliant. "What the devil's taken you so long? I'll start tomorrow."
"Really? You really want to?"
"I've been dying to.Oh, it's taken every bit of my willpower not to come down there every day until you just got so used to me being around you didn't realize I was working there. This is exciting!" She rushed over to give Keeley a hug. "I can't wait to tell your father."
Keeping her arms tight around her daughter, Adelia did a quick dance. "I'm a groom again. — Nora Roberts

St Paul said it is better to marry than to burn, but my mother taught me it is better to burn than to marry. She wanted to be a nun. She hoped I would be a priest and saved to give me an education while my friends plaited rope and trailed after the plough.
I can't be a priest because although my heart is as loud as hers I can pretend no answering riot. I have shouted to God and the Virgin, but they have not shouted back and I'm not interested in the still small voice. Surely a god can meet passion with passion?
She says he can.
Then he should. — Jeanette Winterson

That is what you said! You think you can just pay me to talk to your friend? Clearly you pay most of your female companions by the hour and don't know how it works with the real world, but ... but.." Blue remembered that she was working to a point, but not what that point was. Indignation had eliminated all higher functions and all that remained was the desire to slap him. The boy opened his mouth to protest, and her thought came back to her all in a rush. "Most girls, when they're interested in a guy, will sit them with for free . — Maggie Stiefvater

Why?' he asked. 'Why should I praise her if she doesn't deserve it? I say exactly what I have often admired Sterne for saying in one of his letters - that neither reason nor Scripture asks us to speak nothing but good of the dead. And now, madam,' he continued, after a short interval of thought, 'I may, perhaps, hope that you will assist me, or rather not thwart me, in endeavouring to win the love of a young lady living about you, one in whom I am much interested already. — Thomas Hardy

I have a lady, she's a great lady. I love her a lot, she loves me. We're on the same page. Whenever that day happens when we're not on the same page we'll move forward with it. We're interested in having our lives be our lives right now and not a third person's vis-a-vis marriage and whatever that means. — Jon Hamm

Oh, sorry," he said, bringing his mind back to their conversation. "This time we have to maintain a bluff to win. Not easy. Complicated. I'll explain it all to you one day." She pretended exasperation. "Not fair, Andrew. Don't treat me like a second-class citizen. You've always confided in me. I've confided in you. You're interested in what I do every day. Well, I'm just as interested in what you do. We're a team, Andrew. We share. So don't suddenly go chauvinist and relegate me to the kitchen. Tell me the problems you're dealing with. I want to share them with you." "I don't mean to withhold anything from — Crossroad Press

Because my patient just sat herself up
and I'm not talking about her raising her torso off the damn pillows. I wasn't there when she did it and I need to see how it happened."
Red Sox seemed to stop breathing. "What ... I'm sorry. What the fuck are you saying."
"Do I need to reenact it in charades or some shit?"
"I'll pass on that
I so don't need you on your knees in front of me with only a towel on."
"Which makes two of us."
"Wait, are you serious?"
"Yeah. I'm really not interested in blowing you, either. — J.R. Ward

But...a vibrator can't hold you in its arms or give you the full-body experience."

Em clamped down on the wicked surge of heat between her legs, thinking about a full-body experience with Lincoln Quinn. "It's not going to make me lie in the wet spot, either."

"It can't snuggle with you after," he countered with another laugh.

Em snorted. "And that's your specialty, is it? Hanging around for pillow talk?"

"I'll have you know I give very good pillow talk."

Sure. And Elvis was alive and living at Henley Stadium. "Right," she muttered. "Of course you do."

"I really do." He nodded. "Most women seem to be more interested in me giving them good head, but hey, I'm a full service kinda guy. — Amy Andrews

I'm no relation to Lillian or Dorothy Gish. Not even way back. But when I first became interested in acting, I wrote a letter to Lillian Gish. She wrote back, discouraging me from entering the business. — Annabeth Gish

It's me, not you." She turned to him, urging him with her eyes to go along with her. "Everybody else thinks you're fabulous, so it has to be me, right? Nobody else seems to find you just a little bit . . . creepy."

He cocked an eyebrow.

Francesca swelled up in her chair. "Did you just call my son 'creepy'?"

Ted spooned up another bite of chocolate, interested in what else she'd come up with. He wasn't going to help at all. She wanted to kiss him, yell at him. Instead, she returned her attention to the women.

"Be honest." Her voice gained strength with the rightness of what she was doing. "You all know what I mean. The way the birds start to sing when he walks outside. That's creepy, right? And those halos that keep popping up around his head? — Susan Elizabeth Phillips

I'm not interested in being anyone's plaything right now.
"I believe I'm asking to be yours."
Shaking her head, she fought a smile and looked up at me. "Stop being cute."
"Meet me upstairs."
"What? No."
"The empty ballroom adjacent to the restrooms. It's up the stairs and to your right. — Christina Lauren

All of that art-for-art's-sake stuff is BS," she declares. "What are these people talking about? Are you really telling me that Shakespeare and Aeschylus weren't writing about kings? All good art is political! There is none that isn't. And the ones that try hard not to be political are political by saying, 'We love the status quo.' We've just dirtied the word 'politics,' made it sound like it's unpatriotic or something." Morrison laughs derisively. "That all started in the period of state art, when you had the communists and fascists running around doing this poster stuff, and the reaction was 'No, no, no; there's only aesthetics.' My point is that is has to be both: beautiful and political at the same time. I'm not interested in art that is not in the world. And it's not just the narrative, it's not just the story; it's the language and the structure and what's going on behind it. Anybody can make up a story. — Toni Morrison

You've always lived here, right?" Sarah asked.
"Except for the years I went to college."
"Didn't you ever want to move away? To experience something new?"
"Like bistros?"
She nudged him playfully with her elbow. "No, not just that. Cities have a vibrancy, a sense of excitement that you can't find in a small town."
"I don't doubt it. But to be honest, I've never been interested in things like that. I don't need those things to make me happy. A nice quiet place to unwind at the end of the day, beautiful views, a few good friends. What else is there? — Nicholas Sparks

missions. A moment later she heard the sound of the television start up. The clever little thing had worked out how to use the remote control. 'Not till August,' said Lauren. 'We've got lots to sort out. Visas and so on. We'll have to find an apartment, a nanny for Jacob.' A nanny for Jacob. 'Job for me.' Rob sounded a little nervous. 'Oh, yes, darling,' said Rachel. She did try to take her son seriously. She really did. 'A job for you. In real estate, do you think?' 'Not sure yet,' said Rob. 'We'll have to see. I might end up being a house husband.' 'So sorry I never taught him how to cook,' said Rachel to Lauren, not especially sorry. Rachel had never been much interested in cooking or that good at it; it was just another chore that had to be done, like the laundry. The way people went on these days about cooking. 'That's okay,' beamed Lauren. 'We'll probably eat out a lot in New York. The city that never sleeps, — Liane Moriarty

Call me a sentimentalist, but I like the idea of you in one piece. Besides, she's not the only one who might be interested in your tasty flesh.'
I tilt my head. 'Who told you I was tasty?'
'Haven't you heard that old saying? Tasty as a fool?'
'You made that up.'
'Huh. Must be an angelic saying. It's to warn the foolish about things that go bump in the night.'
'It's daytime.'
'Ah. So you don't deny that you're foolish? — Susan Ee

Ya Ummi(my mother), I cannot live my life with a woman who has no key to my mind and does not share my concerns. She cannot - will not - read anything. She shrugs off the grave problems of the day and asks if I think her new tablecloth is pretty. We are living in difficult times and it is not enough for a person to be interested in his home and his job - in his own personal life. I need my partner to be someone to whom I can turn, confident of her sympathy, believing her when she tells me I'm in the wrong, strengthened when she tells me I'm in the right. I want to love, and be loved back - but what I see is not love or companionship but a sort of transacton of convenience santioned by religion and society and I do not want it. — Ahdaf Soueif

Palming each side of her face, I dropped my forehead to hers. "I'm going to make things awkward. It's kinda what I do. Just bear with me."
She licked her lips, and I was forced to kiss her again. When I finally came back up for air, I continued.
"My name is Samuel Nathan Rivers. I'm twenty-seven. Aquarius. No criminal history. I have a clean bill of health. I'm a democrat, but for God's sake, do not tell my mom. I own a furniture shop and clear six figures a year. I'm not interested in your money. I'll show you my tax return if need be. I'm also not a super-fan interested in your fame. But, for the love of all that's holy, I need you to come home with me. — Aly Martinez

She told me that she liked white people but didn't have any close white friends and asked if I was interested in cross-pollinating. I told her we would see how things went but not to put the chicken wing before the egg. We grew to be fast friends, and a couple — Chelsea Handler

What's the matter? Aren't you interested in my strong, manly arms?" he said, giving her a squeeze to show just how strong and manly his arms were. "Not when they're squeezing the life from me," she gasped. "Archie, let me go! — Lynn Kurland

You really have the nerve to stand there and ask me that?" When he didn't respond, I practically growled as I took a step towards him. "You blow so hot and cold with me that I'm not sure which way is up. It's a wonder I don't need a chiropractor from your emotional whiplash. One minute you're telling me you want a girl like me to be interested in you and the next you're coyly asking how I feel about Garrett." Finally toe to toe, I glared up at him. "You're really good at charming the panties off girls at ten paces, but you can't even tell a girl how you really feel when she's up close and personal! — Katie Ashley

Lissa Treiman is an artist who submitted a guest strip to me back in 2008 and whose work I've followed since. She works in animation. When I first mentioned on Twitter that I was interested in writing a series but not drawing it, she got in touch. — John Allison

Why, if you were not interested in me as anything more than a"-she stumbled, trying to find the right terminology-"momentary plaything, you might at least have just told me outright afterward." She crossed her arms and sneered at him. "Why didn't you? You think I was not strong enough to take it without causing a scene? I assure you, no one is better used to rejection than I, my lord. I think it very churlish of you not to inform me to my face that your breach in manners was an unfortunate impulse of the moment. I deserve some respect. We have known each other long enough for that at the very least. — Gail Carriger

Won't you kiss me?" she whispered, sidling close. "Just the once?"
"The thing is, Miss Highwood, I'm not interested in kissing you just the once."
"Oh." Her face fell.
He propped one finger under her chin, tilting her face back up. "If I were to kiss you, once wouldn't be enough. I'd want to kiss you many times. In lots of places. — Tessa Dare

This is scary," she whispers. "I've never had a boyfriend before. I don't know how this works. Do people become exclusive this fast? Are we supposed to pretend we're not that interested for a few more dates?"
Oh, dear God.
I've never been turned on by a girl laying claim to me before. I usually run in the other direction. She's obliterating every single thing I thought I knew about myself with every new sentence that passes those lips.
"I have no interest in faking disinterest," I say. "If you want to call yourself my girlfriend half as much as I wish you would, then it would save me a whole lot of begging. Because I was literally about to drop to my knees and beg you."
She squints her eyes playfully. "No begging. It screams desperation."
"You make me desperate," I say, pressing my lips to hers again. — Colleen Hoover

She didn't even ask me if I was going to go on flying. She knew I would. I don't understand the people who have wings and don't use them. I suppose they're interested in having a career. Maybe they were already in love with somebody on the ground. But it seems ... I don't know. I can't really understand it. Wanting to stay down. Choosing not to fly. Wingless people can't help it, it's not their fault they're grounded. But if you have wings ... — Ursula K. Le Guin

I pretended to be interested in their secret undertaking, but in fact I was very sorry about it. Although the two siblings had involved me by choosing me as their confidant, it was still an experience that I could enter only as witness: on that path Lila would do great things by herself, I was excluded. But above all, how, after our intense conversations about love and poetry, could she walk me to the door, as she was doing, far more absorbed in the atmosphere of excitement around a shoe? ... What did I care about shoes. I still had, in my mind's eye, the most secret stages of that affair of violated trust, passion, poetry that became a book, and it was as if she and I had read a novel together, as if we had seen, there in the back of the shop and not in the parish hall on Sunday, a dramatic film. — Elena Ferrante

My dress is caught in the settee. And I would be much obliged if you would help me out of it!" "The dress or the settee?" the stranger asked, sounding interested. "The settee," Pandora said irritably. "I'm all tangled up in these dratted - " she hesitated, wondering what to call the elaborate wooden curls and twists carved into the back of the settee. " - swirladingles," she finished. "Acanthus scrolls," the man said at the same time. A second passed before he asked blankly, "What did you call them?" "Never mind," Pandora said with chagrin. "I have a bad habit of making up words, and I'm not supposed to say them in public." "Why not?" "People might think I'm eccentric." His quiet laugh awakened a ticklish feeling in her stomach. "At the moment, darling, made-up words are the least of your problems. — Lisa Kleypas

Nadya Zelenin and her mother had returned from a performance of Eugene Onegin at the theatre. Going into her room, the girl swiftly threw off her dress and let her hair down. Then she quickly sat at the table in her petticoat and white bodice to write a letter like Tatyana's.
'I love you,' she wrote, 'but you don't love me, you don't love me!'
Having written this, she laughed.
She was only sixteen and had never loved anyone yet. She knew that Gorny (an army officer) and Gruzdyov (a student) were both in love with her, but now, after the opera, she wanted to doubt their love. To be unloved and miserable: what an attractive idea! There was something beautiful, touching and romantic about A loving B when B wasn't interested in A. Onegin was attractive in not loving at all, while Tatyana was enchanting because she loved greatly. Had they loved equally and been happy they might have seemed boring.
("After The Theatre") — Anton Chekhov

I think that it is true that Eleanor Roosevelt, by being so active on that front, contributed to that impression very substantially. And it's to her credit that she was interested in this, let me say. But once again, I'm not sure the extent to which Roosevelt - I guess he did use her really, particularly on the civil rights front. No question about it, because she was well identified out there, and brought a good many blacks into the Administration, into the White House, into his presence and so on. — William A. Rusher

But listen to me, she said. What. You don't actually think I'm scary, do you? Yeah, I do. Tell me the truth. I'm serious now. That is the truth. At times I can't say I know what to make of you. Can't you? No. What do you mean? Why not? Because you're different than everybody else, he said. You don't seem to ever get defeated or scared by life. You stay clear in yourself, no matter what. She kissed him. Her dark eyes were watching him in the dim light. I get defeated sometimes, she said. I've been scared. But I'm just crazy about you. She reached down and touched him. Here's one part of you that seems to know what to make of me. You do make a person feel interested, said Guthrie. — Kent Haruf

My doctor has given me as strong an antihistamine as she is allowed to prescribe, but even that does nothing for the itching and swelling. The moment a grain of pollen enters the keep, I begin to tomato, and after two minutes of being exposed to the Ejaculateum Arboratoeaea, I am lying on the ground with my tongue lolling out of the side of my mouth.
I am heartily glad that the trees and plants are still interested in copulatory activities; I only wish they would be so good as to keep their sperm away from my face. Do not pretend that pollen is anything else; it transfers haploid male genetic material and sullies the bedclothes unmercifully. — Michelle Franklin

These people who detain us so pleasantly may decide to shoot us after all. It is a possibility. And if that is the case, then why should I carry this love with me to the other world? Why not give to you what is yours?"
"And what if there is nothing for me to give you?" She seemed to be interested in Fyodorov's argument.
He shook his head. "What a thing to say, after all that you have given to me. But it is not about who has given what. That is not the way to think of gifts. — Ann Patchett