She's The Man Best Quotes & Sayings

ATIONS. Life after death was one thing, life coming into the world was another. Georgia was calm. Beautiful. An old pro, as she put it. But I had missed the first time around, and I was afraid to blink for fear of missing something. And I was not calm.
Tag was not calm either. He had to wait outside. He was my best friend, but even best friends did not share some things. Plus, I didn't think Georgia could give birth and keep us both from passing out.
It was all I could do to hold Georgia's hand and stay at her bedside, praying to God, to Gi, to Eli, to anyone who would listen, to give me strength and self-control. Strength to be the man Georgia needed and self-control to resist covering the walls of Georgia's hospital room in a frenzied mural — Amy Harmon

Walking the deck with quick, side-lunging strides, Ahab commanded the t'gallant sails and royals to be set, and every stunsail spread. The best man in the ship must take the helm. Then, with every mast-head manned, the piled-up craft rolled down before the wind. The strange, upheaving, lifting tendency of the taffrail breeze filling the hollows of so many sails, made the buoyant, hovering deck to feel like air beneath the feet; while still she rushed along, as if two antagonistic influences were struggling in her - one to mount direct to heaven, the other to drive yawingly to some horizontal goal. And had you watched Ahab's face that night, you would have thought that in him also two different things were warring. — Herman Melville

Aomame established several classes in her best area, women's self-defense techniques. She made a large canvas dummy in the shape of a man, sewed a black work glove in the groin area to serve as testicles, and gave female club members thorough training in how to kick in that spot. In the interest of realism, she stuffed two squash balls into the glove. The women were to kick this target swiftly, mercilessly, and repeatedly. Many of them took special pleasure in this training, and their skill improved markedly, but other members (mostly men, of course) viewed the spectacle with a frown and complained to the club's management that she was going overboard.

As a result, Aomame was called in and instructed to rein in the ball-kicking practice — Haruki Murakami

Tonight, for the first time in eight very long years, she let me hold her. She didn't yell at me. She didn't push me away. My cousin's best friend got married tonight, and instead of my cousin standing up there as his best man, I had to take his place. But even with that reminder hovering over the night, she let me hold her. — Abbi Glines

The confusion of love with abuse is what allows abusers who kill their partners to make the absurd claim that they were driven by the depths of their loving feelings. The news media regrettably often accept the aggressors' view of these acts, describing them as "crimes of passion." But what could more thoroughly prove that a man did not love his partner? If a mother were to kill one of her children, would we ever accept the claim that she did it because she was overwhelmed by how much she cared? Not for an instant. Nor should we. Genuine love means respecting the humanity of the other person, wanting what is best for him or her, and supporting the other person's self-esteem and independence. This kind of love is incompatible with abuse and coercion. — Lundy Bancroft

I love you Rush Finlay. You are going to be the best husband and father the world has ever known. One day our son's wife will be thankful that her husband will have had you for a role model. She'll be lucky because of you. Because you will have raised our son to be the man that you are. He'll love her completely because he'll know how. — Abbi Glines

Eva knows I'm terra incognita and explores me unhurriedly, like you did. Because she's lean as a boy. Because her scent is almonds, meadow grass. Because if I smile at her ambition to be an Egyptologist, she kicks my shin under the table. Because she makes me think about something other than myself. Because even when serious she shines. Because she prefers travelogues to Sir Walter Scott, prefers Billy Mayerl to Mozart, and couldn't tell a C major from a sergeant major. Because I, only I, see her smile a fraction before it reaches her face. Because Emperor Robert is not a good man - his best part is commandeered by his unperformed music - but she gives me that rarest smile, anyway. Because we listened to nightjars. Because her laughter spurts through a blowhole in the top of her head and sprays all over the morning. Because a man like me has no business with this substance "beauty," yet here she is, in these soundproof chambers of my heart. — David Mitchell

I like woman who doesn't necessarily care if other people like her. She is she who she is and figures people can take it or leave it. What I do like is a woman who has the guts to tell exactly as she feels. It's not appealing when a woman dresses to please a man. It's way more attractive if she has her own distinct style and wears what she feels best in. — Justin Timberlake

After a couple of kids, there might be one good friend left. And that friend is never available because she has too many kids herself. I'm amazed mothers have anyone to talk to. When a man finds out he's going to be a father, it barely covers more than twenty seconds of a conversation with his male friends. I heard you two are expecting! Congratu ... Who do you think is the best quarterback in the fourth quarter? — Jim Gaffigan

Because obviously she was the most qualified for the position. At long last Edward had arrived at the enlightened state of knowing that a woman could do a job just as well as a man. Yep. That's how it happened. Edward abdicated his throne. Elizabeth would be crowned queen at Westminster Abbey that same week, and we all know she'd be the best ruler of England ever. And now history can more or less pick up along the same path where we left it. — Cynthia Hand

Good to meet you, Patrick," Will said. "And thank you for the ... advice."
"Oh, just trying to help my girlfriend get the best out of her job," he said. "That's all." There was a definite emphasis on the word my.
"Well, you're a lucky man," Will said, as Nathan began to steer him out. "She certainly gives a good bed bath." The words came out so quickly that the door was closed before Patrick even realized what he had said. — Jojo Moyes

Is she your Daughter of Man?' He nods toward me.
'She is a Daughter of Man. And she is traveling with me. But she's not my Daughter of Man.'
'Oh. So she's available?' ask Howler.
Raffe gives him an icy look.
'We're all single now, you know,' says Hawk.
'They can't punish us twice for the same crime' says Cyclone.
'And now that we know you're out of the race Commander, that makes me the next best-looking in line,' says Howler.
'Enough.' Raffe doesn't look amused.'You're not her type.'
The Watchers smile knowingly.
'How do you know?' I ask.
Raffe turns to me. 'Because angels aren't your type. You hate them, remember? — Susan Ee

The other gift - a book of poems, called, "The Cowardly Morning" - Waner put on Corinne's desk at the office, with a note saying, "This man is Coleridge and Blake and Rilke all in one, and more."
She didn't pick up the book again until she was in bed, late that night.
[...]
The first poem was the title poem. This time Corinne read it through aloud. But still she didn't hear it. She read it through a third time, and heard some of it. She read it through a fourth time, and heard all of it. It was the poem containing the lines:
'Not wasteland, but a great inverted forest
with all foliage underground.'
As though it might be best to look immediately for shelter, Corinne had to put the book down. At any moment the apartment building seemed liable to lose its balance and topple across Fifth Avenue into Central Park. She waited. Gradually the deluge of truth and beauty abated.
- The Inverted Forest (1947) — J.D. Salinger

'Tempting the Best Man' centers around Madison Daniels, who's had a major crush on her brother's best friend since she was a girl. — Jennifer Armentrout

I remain your pledged man," Tark avowed, touching a fist to his chest. "What are your orders?"
Jason turned to the stocky musician. "Do your best to help Galloran win this war."
"I swear it."
"And keep an eye on Rachel. See if you can get her to stop telling me she's going to see me again. I think she's jinxing us."
Rachel punched Jason's arm.
Tark eyed Rachel uncertainly. She saw a hint of disapproval in his gaze, along with a little wariness.
Jason smiled. "That's assault. Tark, take her out. — Brandon Mull

What are you giving him?"
She grins smugly. "Only the greatest gift a woman can give the man she loves."
I take my best guess. "Anal?"
Kate covers her eyes.
Dee-Dee's smile turns into a scowl. "No
pig. I'm giving him the gift of health. My acupuncturist cleared her schedule. She's going to work on Matthew the whole day."
I laugh. Because this explains so much.
"That's your gift? Really? It's the guy's birthday and you're gonna make him get needles stuck in his face all day? What are you gonna get him for Christmas - a colonoscopy? — Emma Chase

The best man. You know? He hands you the ring and has to marry the bride if you ran away and so on. The Dean's been reading up on it, haven't you, Dean?"
"Oh, yes," said the Dean, who'd spent all the previous day with "Lady Deirdre Waggon's Book of Etiquette". "She's got to marry someone once she's turned up. You can't have unmarried brides flapping around the place, being a danger to society."
"I completely forgot about a best man!" said Vimes. — Terry Pratchett

You ain't know nothing," a man scoffed. "How I'm supposed to trust some junkie Churchwitch-"
The words sliced through her like razor-sharp fangs. Her face flooded with shame, so hot she imagined it steamed in the icy air. At least it wasn't difficult to identify the speaker. All she had to do was look for the man with Terrible's fist locked around his neck.
"Ain't think I hear you right," Terrible said in a calm, quiet voice. "Wanna louden up?" The man shook his head His eyes bulged. He looked like a bug, with his hands clenching into tiny useless fists. "You sure? You got else to say, you best say it now, instead of later. Now we got us watchers. Later might not be true, dig?" The man dug. — Stacia Kane

You do know him, so that's a lame excuse."
It was a lame excuse, but it was the best I had. "How do you really ever truly know someone?"
Brit smacked her hands to her cheeks and she shook her head. "He's not a serial killer."
"Speaking of serial killers, everyone thought Ted Bundy was a really charming, handsome man. And look how he turned out. Psycho."
Jacob stared at me. "He's not Ted Bundy. — J. Lynn

She introduces me to a nurse as the Best Friend. The impersonal article is more intimate. It tells me that they are intimate, the nurse and my friend.
'I was telling her we used to drink Canada Dry ginger ale and pretend were were in Canada'
'That's how dumb we were,' I say.
'You could be sisters,' the nurse says.
So how come, I'll bet they are wondering, it took me so long to get to such a glorious place? But do they ask?
They do not ask.
Two months, and how long is the drive?
The best I can explain it is this - I have a friend who worked one summer in a mortuary. He used to tell me stories. The one that really got to me was not eh grisliest, but it's the one that did. A man wrecked his care on 101 going south. He did not lose consciousness. But his arm was taken down to the bone - and when he looked at it - it scared him to death.
I mean, he died.
So I hadn't dared to look any closer. But now I'm doing it - and hoping that I will live through it. — Amy Hempel

End the affair briskly, and without allowing the slightest room for doubt,' Griselda continued. 'Tell the gentleman that while you are grateful for the lovely time that you spent in his company, you have seen the error of your ways and wish to lead a celibate existence. You can add some flummery about his having given you pleasure you never experienced before, if you wish.'
Imogen nodded, wishing she had Josie's little book to take notes in.
'On occasion, a hitherto rational man might act in a thoroughly distracted fashion when you inform him of your wish to end the relationship. I generally inform them that while I am not betraying poor Willoughby (he /is/ dead, after all), I have decided, upon reflection, that I am betraying myself. They never have any adequate rebuttal, and you can part on the best of terms. — Eloisa James

By the nineteenth century, society had given up burning witches. Yet the sexual exploitation of children continued. In late-nineteenth-century Britain, for example, men who raped young girls were excused because they did it to cure venereal disease. There was a widely held belief that children would take "poisons" out of the body. In fact, leprosy, venereal disease, depression, and impotence were part of a wide range of maladies believed cured by having sex with the young. An English medical text of the time reads, "Breaking a maiden's seal is one of the best antidotes for one's ills. Cudgeling her unceasingly, until she swoons away, is a mighty remedy for man's depression. It cures all impotence. — Patrick J. Carnes

Second: them poor things well out o' this, and never no more will I interfere with Mrs. Cruncher's flopping, never no more!"
"Whatever housekeeping arrangement that may be," said Miss Pross, striving to dry her eyes and compose herself, "I have no doubt it is best that Mrs. Cruncher should have it entirely under her own superintendence. - O my poor darlings!"
"I go so far as to say, miss, moreover," proceeded Mr. Cruncher, with a most alarming tendency to hold forth as from a pulpit - "and let my words be took down and took to Mrs. Cruncher through yourself - that wot my opinions respectin' flopping has undergone a change, and that wot I only hope with all my heart as Mrs. Cruncher may be a flopping at the present time."
"There, there, there! I hope she is, my dear man," cried the distracted Miss Pross, "and I hope she finds it answering her expectations. — Charles Dickens

When the windows like the jackal's eye and desire pierce the dawn, silken windlasses lift me up to suburban footbridges. I summon a girl who is dreaming in the little gilded house; she meets me on the piles of black moss and offers me her lips which are stones in the rapid river depths. Veiled forebodings descend the buildings' steps. The best thing is to flee from the great feather cylinders when the hunters limp into the sodden lands. If you take a bath in the watery patterns of the streets, childhood returns to the country like a greyhound. Man seeks his prey in the breezes and the fruits are drying on the screens of pink paper, in the shadow of the names overgrown by forgetfulness. Joys and sorrows spread in the town. Gold and eucalyptus, similarly scented, attack dreams. Among the bridles and the dark edelweiss subterranean forms are resting like perfumers' corks. — Andre Breton

Lidewij,
I believe Agustus Waters sent a few pages from a notebok to Peter Van Houten shortly before he (Augustus) died. It is very important to me that someone reads these pages. I want to read them, of course, but maybe they weren't written for me. Regardless, they must be read. They must be. Can you help?

Your friend,
Hazel Grace Lancaster

"She responded late that afternoon."

Dear Hazel,

I did not know that Augustus had died. I am very sad to hear this news. He was such a very charismatic young man. I am so sorry, and so sad.
I have not spoken to Peter since I resigned that day we met.
It is very late at night here, but I am going over to his house first thing in the morning to find this letter and force him to read it.
Mornings were his best time,
usually.

Your friend,
Lidewij Vliegenthart

p.s. I am bringing my boyfriend in case we have to physically retsrain Peter. — John Green

This Sir Alisdair fellow." Her cheeks blushed crimson. "I'm just saying, he's likely older than Francine. And less attractive." "I don't care! I don't care if he's ancient and warty and leprous and hunchbacked. He would still be learned, intelligent. Respected and respectful. He would still be a better man than you. You know it, and you're envious. You're being cruel to me to soothe your pride." She looked him up and down with a contemptuous glare. "And you're going to catch flies in your mouth, if you don't shut it." For once, Colin found himself without words. The best he could do was take her advice and hoist his dropped jaw. — Tessa Dare

Most of all, I am thankful for Lily, who, since she entered my life, has taught me everything I know about patience and kindness and meeting adversity with quiet dignity and grace. No one makes me laugh harder, or want to hug them tighter. You have truly lived up to the promise of man's best friend. — Steven Rowley

A woman has all too much substance in a man's eyes at the best of times. That is why men like women to be slim. Her lack of flesh negates her. The less of her there is, the less notice he need take of her. The more like a male she appears to be, the safer he feels. — Fay Weldon

Your very best look, my queen, is the one you were born with. As far as I'm concerned, perfection can't be improved upon by either man nor God." Leaning in, he kissed her softly. "Just thought you'd want to know what your male's been thinking as I've been staring at you." Selena started to smile, especially as she realized that sometimes "I love you" could be said without those particular three words lined up in a row. "See?" she said softly. "I told you this was going to be the best night of my life. — J.R. Ward

She waited until she and my grandfather Anthel were just home from their honeymoon, and then sat him down and told him this: "Honey, I know you like to take a drink, and that's all right, but be forewarned that I ain't your maid and I ain't your punching bag, and if you ever raise your hand to me you'd best kill me. Because otherwise I'll wait until you're asleep; sew you into the bed; and beat you to death with a frying pan." Until he died, I am told, my grandfather was a gentle man. — Haven Kimmel

I've made it my business to observe fathers and daughters. And I've seen some incredible, beautiful things. Like the little girl who's not very cute - her teeth are funny, and her hair doesn't grow right, and she's got on thick glasses - but her father holds her hand and walks with her like she's a tiny angel that no one can touch. He gives her the best gift a woman can get in this world: protection. And the little girl learns to trust the man in her life. And all the things that the world expects from women - to be beautiful, to soothe the troubled spirit, heal the sick, care for the dying, send the greeting card, bake the cake - allof those things become the way we pay the father back for protecting us ... — Adriana Trigiani

After all, as it says on a needlepoint sampler or throw pillow or the occasional bumper sticker: Good girls go to heaven, but bad girls go everywhere. In high heels. Or mules by Manolo Blahnik, the strappy, tangly kind that give you blisters. And when their feet start to hurt, they bitch about it a lot, until someone agrees to carry them home. Bad girls understand that there is no point in being good and suffering in silence. What good has good ever done? We women still only make seventy-one cents, on average, for every man's dollar. We still have to listen to studies telling us that a single woman over the age of 35 had best avoid airplanes because she is more likely to die in a terrorist attack than get married. — Elizabeth Wurtzel

As you've witnessed, Catwoman is the ultimate diva. From the pages of comic books to both small and big screens, Catwoman continues to evolve and mature like a true cat. Catwoman, is a unique breed, never taking the same form twice. But whatever form she takes, she'll always reign supreme. A dog maybe man's best friend, but a cat is everyone's favourite feline fatale. — Eartha Kitt

What, after all, is the purpose of a woman's life? The purpose of a woman's life is just the same as the purpose of a man's life: that she may make the best possible contribution to the generation in which she is living. — Louise McKinney

Then, instead of telling her that where there was life there was hope, or to let a smile be her umbrella, or that it was always darkest just before the dawn, or anything else that had just lately fallen out of the dog's ass, she simply held her. Because sometimes only holding was best. That was one of the things she had taught that man whose last name she had taken for her own
that sometimes it was best to be quiet; sometimes it was best to just shut your everlasting mouth and hang on, hang on, hang on. — Stephen King

One Saturday morning walking to the farmers' market with my lover she tells me she needs to look like a man on the street. She hates binding her breasts. Hates having breasts, hates not passing. I press her. I ask her, but what do you feel like when you're naked in bed with me? Do you like your body then? She is quiet. Later she tells me she had a dream. Her mother brought home a bottle of medicine from the hospital for her. The doctor says she has to take it. The medicine is testosterone.

On Shabbat I remember to pray for enough space inside of me to hold all the darkness of the night and all the sunlight of the day. I pray for enough space for transformations as miraculous as the shift from day to night.

Later when that lover has changed his name and an ex-boyfriend has come out to me as a lesbian I go to visit my best friend's sister-turned-brother-turned-sister-again and she tells me about the blessing of having many names and using them all at once. — M.J. Kaufman

The woman is the man's glory, and she naturally delights in the praises which are assurances that she is fulfilling her function; and she gives herself to him who succeeds in convincing her that she, of all others, is best able to discharge it for him. A woman without this kind of "vanity" is a monster. — Coventry Patmore

I couldn't help but think of my mother's most life-altering mistake. Silly and romantic, getting married fresh out of high school to a man she barely knew, then producing me a year later. She'd always promised me that she had no regrets, that I was the best gift hr life had ever given her. — Stephenie Meyer

I must not hesitate to acknowledge where Europe is great, for great she is without doubt. We cannot help loving her with all our heart, and paying her the best homage of our admiration, - the Europe who, in her literature and art, pours out an inexhaustible cascade of beauty and truth fertilizing all countries and all time; the Europe who, with a mind which is titanic in its untiring power, is sweeping the height and the depth of the universe, winning her homage of knowledge from the infinitely great and the infinitely small, applying all the resources of her great intellect and heart in healing the sick and alleviating those miseries of man which up till now we were contented to accept in a spirit of hopeless resignation; the Europe who is making the earth yield more fruit than seemed possible, coaxing and compelling the great forces of nature into man's service. Such true greatness must have its motive power in spiritual strength. — Rabindranath Tagore

Uselessness
Let mine not be the saddest fate of all,
To live beyond my greater self; to see
My faculties decaying, as the tree
Stands stark and helpless while its green leaves fall
Let me hear rather the imperious call,
Which all men dread, in my glad morning time,
And follow death ere I have reached my prime,
Or drunk the strengthening cordial of life's gall.
The lightning's stroke or the fierce tempest blast
Which fells the green tree to the earth to-day
Is kinder than the calm that lets it last,
Unhappy witness of its own decay.
May no man ever look on me and say,
'She lives, but all her usefulness is past. — Ella Wheeler Wilcox

Madame Montoni's sufferings, at length, rose above her pride, and, when Emily had before entered the room, she would have told them all, had not her husband prevented her; now that she was no longer restrained by his presence, she poured forth all her complaints to her niece. "O Emily!" she exclaimed, "I am the most wretched of women - I am indeed cruelly treated! Who, with my prospects of happiness, could have foreseen such a wretched fate as this? - who could have thought, when I married such a man as the Signor, I should ever have to bewail my lot? But there is no judging what is for the best - there is no knowing what is for our good! The most flattering prospects often change - the best judgments may be deceived - who could have foreseen, when I married the Signor, that I should ever repent my GENEROSITY?" Emily — Eliza Parsons

And I'm not sure how much time has passed since Galen and his best friend, Toraf, left my house to retrieve Grom. Grom, the Triton king, Galen's older brother. Grom, who was supposed to mate with my mother. Grom, who is a Syrena, a man-fish. A man-fish who was supposed to mate with my mother. My mother, who is also Nalia, the long-lost supposed-to-be-dead Poseidon princess who's been living on land all these years because _.
Speaking of Her Esteemed Majesty Mom ... she's lost her freaking mind.
And I've been kidnapped. — Anna Banks

She deserved a man who could offer her the best of everything, not a lifetime of butcher's leftovers got on the cheap and a drop of condensed milk in her tea when they couldn't stretch to sugar. Jimmy was working hard to become that man, and as soon as he did, by God, he was going to marry her and never let her go. — Kate Morton

She had recently come to think that in such unhappy times-when the odds were so high against personal happiness-to find love was miraculous, and to fulfill it as best as two people could was what really mattered. Was it more important to insist a man's religious beliefs be exactly hers, or that the two of them have in common ideals, a desire to keep love in their lives, and to preserve in every possible way what was best in themselves? The less difference among people, the better; thus she settled it for herself yet was dissatisfied for those for whom she hadn't settled it, — Bernard Malamud

He's a fine young man, and one who loves you without restrictions. Finding a mate, a true one, is a rare and precious thing." And the heart of the heart, she thought. Yes, he'd found that, too. "I don't even know how it happened, but even when he pisses me off, I'm grateful every day it did." "The best possible description for a good marriage. — J.D. Robb

And don't worry." Bob, Carter's best man and colleague, held up a notebook computer. "I've got it handled on this end. And I memorized the vows just in case he needs me to throw him a line."
"You're a treasure, Bob."
She waited until she was out of earshot to laugh. — Nora Roberts

A woman knows all about her children. She knows about dentist appointments, soccer games, romances, best friends, location of friend's houses, favorite foods, secret fears and hopes and dreams. A man is vaguely aware of some short people living in the house. — Matt Groening

A woman in love respects and raises up her man. She is his constant source of support. She matches his heart and passions with her own. She sees the very best in him, even when he does not. She is his foundation; what he returns home to. — Elizabeth Bourgeret

Horace's best ode would not please a young woman as much as the mediocre verses of the young man she is in love with. — Michael Moore

Be calm," she said soothingly, and I realized she was not talking to the bird.
"How am I supposed to be calm? I worry," I retorted.
She gave a snort. "Then you are more stupid than I supposed. Worry, what is that? A pointless thing is Mr. Worry-an intruder. He steals into your house and creeps into your bed and what do you do child? Do you push him away and tell him to be gone and bolt the door fast against him? No, you move over and let him have the good pillow and the best quilt to warm himself." She flapped a hand in disgust. "Worry never did a man a bit of good. All he does is robs one's peace and make lines on the face. — Deanna Raybourn

That man's best works should be such bungling imitations of Nature's infinite perfection, matters not much; but that he should make himself an imitation, this is the fact which Nature moans over, and deprecates beseechingly. Be spontaneous, be truthful, be free, and thus be individuals! is the song she sings through warbling birds, and whispering pines, and roaring waves, and screeching winds. — Lydia M. Child

I'm looking for a man" Bree started.
"Aren't we all, dear? All I got's bread and doughnuts, but they're the next best thing"
"I don't know about that .. well maybe doughnuts. I've lost my .. friend. He's tall-sixfour-longish dark hair, wearing a kilt"
"Oh him" She smacked a hand over her heart "I'd take him over doughnuts any day — Anita Clenney

A woman or man of value doesn't love you because of what he or she wants you to be or do for them. He or she loves you because your combined souls understand one another, complements each other, and make sense above any other person in this world. You each share a part of their soul's mirror and see each other's light reflected in it clearly. You can easily speak from the heart and feel safe doing so. Both of you have been traveling a parallel road your entire life. Without each other's presence, you feel like an old friend or family member was lost. It bothers you, not because you have given it too much meaning, but because God did. This is the type of person you don't have to fight for because you can't get rid of them and your heart doesn't want them to leave anyways. — Shannon L. Alder

Look like chick books."
"And you're a chick, so what's the problem?"
She laughs. "Well, you've got beans and franks, or so I assume."
"Hey," he says, suddenly all serious. "Reading books by female authors does not limit my macho vibe. Plus, bitches write the best characters, man. It's like they get people, you know? — Chuck Wendig

Miss Cornelia sighed and Susan groaned. "Yes, he's nice enough if that were all," said the former. "He is VERY nice - and very learned - and very spiritual. But, oh Anne dearie, he has no common sense! "How was it you called him, then?" "Well, there's no doubt he is by far the best preacher we ever had in Glen St. Mary church," said Miss Cornelia, veering a tack or two. "I suppose it is because he is so moony and absent-minded that he never got a town call. His trial sermon was simply wonderful, believe ME. Every one went mad about it - and his looks." "He is VERY comely, Mrs. Dr. dear, and when all is said and done, I DO like to see a well-looking man in the pulpit," broke in Susan, thinking it was time she asserted herself again. — L.M. Montgomery

Shaykha Sultana al-Zubaydiyya

Shaykha Sultana al-Zubaydiyya, famous scholar and saint, was the dauther of 'Ali al-Zubaydi, a man belonging to the martial Zubaydi clan of the tribe of Bani Haritha, itself an offshoot of the major tribe of Kinda, one of the most ancient and best known tribes of Southern Yemen.

[...] she became known as the Rabi'a of Hadramawt.

[...] Shaykha Sultana became so engrossed in her spiritual pursuits that she never found it in herself to marry and beget children as was expected of her. Instead, she visited all the great men of the valley, sitting at the back of the mosques where the gatherings were held, and listening intently until she became well known and greatly respected by them.

Mostafa al-Badawi, A blessed Valley, Volume One, Wadi Hadramawt & the Alawi Tradition, Chapter 10, S. 95-97 — Mostafa Al-Badawi

She told us that social work was a young profession still finding itself. She called it a "creative science" and said that, in her opinion, the best social workers were intelligent and compassionate, and while she could give us ideas and tools to help our fellow man, she couldn't teach us how to put ourselves into another person's shoes. She said, "If you don't already know how to do that, you should drop this class and consider another line of work. — Anita Diamant

Like its author, this book is dedicated to Jen Schwalbach - the gorgeous mother of my child, the seductive temptress who keeps me faithful, and the friend I've always had the most fun with. My best friend, even.
Also quite like the author, this book is additionally dedicated to Jen Schwalbach asshole.
Everything above also applies here, obviously, except the "mother of my child" part: referencing my kid and my wife's brown eye in the same sentiment might come off as crude or something.
(And I have a heart: Please don't go telling my kid you read in her old man's book that she's some kinda Butt-Baby. She's gonna have a hard enough time being Silent Bob's daughter - the daughter of the "Too Fat to Fly" guy.
Also: Pleas don't tell my daughter I dedicated tge vook to her mother's sphincter. That'd be weird) — Kevin Smith

To be man's tender mate was woman born, and in obeying nature she best serves the purposes of heaven. — Friedrich Schiller

Back when I was five, I thought my mom was being mean to me, so I decided to run away. Carried my slingshot with me because I was a big strong man, you see. Could take care of myself. I believe I also took a flashlight and a package of Oreos."
Despite my embarrassement, I couldn't help smiling. "I think you packed better than I did."
I swaggered out of the house where we were staying and took myself all the way to ... the far corner of the backyard. There I made my stand. Stayed out there all day, until it started to reain. I hadn't thought about taking an umbrella."
The best laid plans." I sighed.
I know. It's tragic. I cam back in, all wet and my stomach aching from eating about twenty Oreo, and my mom
who is a smart lady even is she drives me nuts
well, she acted like nothing happened." Lucas shrugged. — Claudia Gray

She looked at a silver birch: it would have a soft, showery voice and would look like a slender girl, with hair blown all about her face and fond of dancing. She looked at the oak: he would be a wizened, but hearty, old man with a frizzled beard and warts on his fact and hands, with hair growing out of the warts. She looked at the beech under which she was standing. Ah!
she would be the best of all. She would be a gracious goddess, smooth and stately, the Lady of the Wood. — C.S. Lewis

How dare you give the poor woman trouble over those nasty biscuits! If you made biscuits worth eating, sir, perhaps she wouldn't throw them to the fish!"
He blinked his eyes in astonishment. "Biscuits worth eating? I'll have you know, madam, that I bake the best biscuit on the high seas!"
"That's not saying much, considering that ship's biscuits are notoriously awful!"
"It's alright, Louisa, you needn't defend me - " Sara began.
Louisa just ignored her. "Those biscuits were so hard, I could scarcely choke them down. As for that stew - "
"Look here, you disrespectful harpy," the cook said, punctuating his words with loud taps of his cane. "There ain't nothin' wrong with Silas Drummond's stew, and I defy any man - or woman - to make a better one! — Sabrina Jeffries

Maddie had seen commercials for Match Made Easy on TV. They seemed like a decent business and legit. She hoped. She prayed they weren't out of her price range. Not that it mattered - time was running out. She'd pay anything to prove to her family she wasn't cursed. Plus, Ryan would be there, most likely with that cheating blonde of his. She bet anything they'd both love to see her at her lowest point: jobless and dateless. Well, no one was going to feel sorry for her. Not her cousin and certainly not the best man, either. She'd show them all. And since she couldn't find a wedding date to her sister's wedding on her own, it looked as if she'd be forced to do the next best thing. Hire one. — Jennifer Shirk

Quick! What aisle are the douches in? I've got three bitches at the beach cottage and they all stick to high heaven."...
"You do carry Massengill, don't you? That's the best brand, according to my research."
"Ah..." What kind of man researches douches? A man who goes to bed with three women...
"Would you mind checking your inventory in the back? I'll need more."
"I'm not allowed to leave the register, but I'll be happy to page our stock boy."
Douche-man grunted and flipped the package around. "It's gonna take at least two boxes for Loa. She's big. Got wide hips. Skinny legs, though. Kinda like a twenty-gallon tank on toothpicks. — Vonnie Davis

She got to me."
"It happens to the best of us."
"Yeah? Who gets to you?" He was so strong that sometimes she worried. Everyone needed to bend a little, even a panther responsible for the lives of his entire pack.
"That damn wolf. He sent you a present last week."
Sascha smiled at the thought of Hawke's flirting. The SnowDancer alpha did it only to jerk Lucas's chain. "I never saw any present. What was it?"
"How the hell should I know? I stomped on it and threw it into the deepest crevice I could find." He smirked. "Then I called him to ask how Sienna was doing."
She burst out laughing. "Wicked, wicked man. — Nalini Singh

Identify you as messenger ... to other Riders." The words were gasped as if he
were forcing air in and out of his lungs by sheer will to extend his life. "Fly ... Rider, with
great speed. Don't read m-message. Then they can't tor-torture ... it from you. If captured,
shred it and toss it to the winds." Then, because his voice had grown so faint, she had to
lean very close to hear his final words. "Beware the shadow man."
A cold tremor ran through Karigan's body. "I'll do my best," she told him. — Kristen Britain

Damn, Josie. Are you trying to kill me?"
She glanced back my way. "Not particularly right now. Why?"
I didn't even try to stop staring. It would have been a wasted effort. "Because that dress is enough to give a man a heart attack if you come any closer, or break a man's heart if you walk away."
"Now lines like that help me understand why you've got a reputation for being such a ladies man."
"That wasn't even my best one."
( ... )
That kind of dress could bring a man to his knee to propose, even if that had been the furthest thing from his mind when he woke up that morning. Hell, it was bringing me close to a proposal, and I was dead set against anything marriage related. — Nicole Williams

The best way to turn a woman's head is to tell her she has a beautiful profile. — Sacha Guitry

There was always an outrageousness to our response to minor events. Flamboyance and exaggeration were the tail feathers, the jaunty plumage that stretched and flared whenever a Wingo found himself eclipsed in the lampshine of a hostile world. As a family, we were instinctive, not thoughtful. We could never outsmart our adversaries but we could always surprise them with the imaginativeness of our reactions. We functioned best as connoisseurs of hazard and endangerment. We were not truly happy unless we were engaged in our own private war with the rest of the world. Even in my sister's poems, one could always feel the tension of approaching risk. Her poems all sounded as though she had composed them of thin ice and falling rock. They possessed movement, weight, dazzle and craft. Her poetry moved through streams of time, wild and rambunctious, like an old man entering the boundary waters of the Savannah River, planning to water-ski forty miles to prove he was still a man. — Pat Conroy

If they're beautiful I don't much mind if they're not true. It's asking a great deal that things should appeal to your reason as well as to your sense of the aesthetic. I wanted Betty to become a Roman Catholic, I should have liked to see her converted in a crown of paper flowers, but she's hopelessly Protestant. Besides, religion is a matter of temperament; you will believe anything if you have the religious turn of mind, and if you haven't it doesn't matter what beliefs were instilled into you, you will grow out of them. Perhaps religion is the best school of morality. It is like one of those drugs you gentlemen use in medicine which carries another in solution: it is of no efficacy in itself, but enables the other to be absorbed. You take your morality because it is combined with religion; you lose the religion and the morality stays behind. A man is more likely to be a good man if he has learned goodness through the love of God than through a perusal of Herbert Spencer." This — William Somerset Maugham

Me?" he said in some surprise. "I won't be dancing! It's the bridal dance. The bride and groom dance alone!"
For one circuit of the room," she told him. "After which they are joined by the best man and first bridesmaid, then by the groomsman and the second bridesmaid."
Will reacted as he had been stung. He leaned over to speak across Jenny on his left, to Gilan.
Gil! Did you know we have to dance?" he asked. Gilan nodded enthusiastically.
Oh yes indeed. Jenny and I have been practicing for the past three days, haven't we, Jen?"
Jenny looked up at him adoringly and nodded. Jenny was in love. Gilan was tall, dashing, good-looking, charming and very ammusing. Plus he was cloaked in the mystery and romance tat came with being a Ranger. Jenny had only ever known one ranger and that had been grim-faced, gray-bearded Halt. — John Flanagan

What's wrong with men?" Tenar inquired cautiously.
As cautiously, lowering her voice, Moss replied, "I don't know, my dearie. I've thought on it. Often I've thought on it. The best I can say it is like this. A man's in his skin, see, like a nut in its shell." She held up her long, bent, wet fingers as if holding a walnut. "It's hard and strong, that shell, and it's all full of him. Full of grand man-meat, man-self. And that's all. That's all there is. It's all him and nothing else, inside. — Ursula K. Le Guin

Being a childless woman of childbearing age, I am a walking target for people's concerned analysis. No one looks at a single man with a Labrador retriever and says, "Will you look at the way he throws the tennis ball to that dog? Now there's a guy who wants to have a son." A dog, after all, is man's best friend, a comrade, a pal. But give a dog to a woman and people will say she is sublimating. If she says that she, in fact, doesn't want children, they will nod understandingly and say, "You just wait." For the record, I do not speak to my dog in baby talk, nor when calling her do I say, "Come to Mama. — Ann Patchett

That's exactly why I never liked King Arthur's Guinevere. She screws up (pardon the pun), sleeps with her husband's best friend, causes the fall of a kingdom, then she doesn't have the guts to make at least one man happy, so she joins a friggin nunnery and esacpes from all of her problems, leaving everyone around her in a slavering mess. How incredibly spineless. — P.C. Cast

Marriage I think
For women
Is the best of opiates.
It kills the thoughts
That think about the thoughts,
It is the best of opiates.
So said Maria.
But too long in solitude she'd dwelt,
And too long her thoughts had felt
Their strength. So when the man drew near,
Out popped her thoughts and covered him with fear.
Poor Maria!
Better that she had kept her thoughts on a chain,
For now she's alone again and all in pain;
She sighs for the man that went and the thoughts that stay
To trouble her dreams by night and her dreams by day. — Stevie Smith

On the contrary. When a man speaks he's merely tradition. He has at best a few thousand years back of him. But woman, why, she is the miraculous mouthpiece of posterity. — F Scott Fitzgerald

Sazed?" she asked, peeking back out into the hallway.
The steward paused, turning back. "Yes, Mistress Vin?"
"Kelsier," Vin said quietly. "He's a good man, isn't he?"
Sazed smiled. "A very good man, Mistress. One of the best I've known."
Vin nodded slightly. "A good man..." she said softly. "I don't think I've ever known one of those before. — Brandon Sanderson

Dear bullies, see that young boy you made fun of for crying? Last night his best friend committed suicide. See the girl you called fat? She's starving herself. See the old man you just made fun of cause of the ugly scars? He fought for our country. Post this if you're against bullying. I bet 95% of you won't. — Marija Not Sure If She Penned It But I Snagged It From Her I Love It

She had to do that
she had to become a widow, for life, before she was even married. That's why I never got married. I'm thirty-eight years old. I can read and write very well
my mother made sure I was educated
and I do the bookwork for all the shops and businesses in the slum. I do the taxes for every man who pays them. I make a good living here, and I have respect. I shouldn't been married fifteen or even twenty years ago. But she was a widow, all her life, for me. And I couldn't do it. I just couldn't allow myself to get married. I kept hoping I would see him, the sailor with the best moustache. My mother had one very old, faded photograph of the two of them, looking very serious and stern. That's why I lived in this area. I always hoped I would see him. And I never married. And she died last week, Lin. My mother died last week. — Gregory David Roberts

The key trait of a Sperm Pirate is that she is not driven by desperation. Escaping poverty or hardship is not her motive. She usually has a good education and access to the same opportunities as the man she tries to trap. However, she understands that it is more efficient to enjoy a lavish lifestyle through the sweat of another's labour. But the Sperm Pirate is acutely aware that the infatuation of a hormonal man has a brief shelf life. This poor collateral must be cashed in before it expires. A pregnancy is the best way to convert this volatile resource into a stable asset. Babies are reliable insurance policies. They create legal obligations for financial support, even when the sweet milk of passion turns sour. — Taona Dumisani Chiveneko

Father, R.I.P., Sums Me Up at Twenty-Three
She has no head for politics,
craves good jewelry, trusts too readily,
marries too early. Then
one by one she sends away her friends
and stands apart, smug sapphire,
her answer to everything a slender
zero, a silent shrug
and every day
still hears me say she'll never be pretty.
Instead she reads novels, instead her belt
matches her shoes. She is master
of the condolence letter, and knows
how to please a man with her mouth:
Good. Nose too large, eyes too closely set,
hair not glorious blonde, not her mother's red,
nor the glossy black her younger sister has,
the little raven I loved best. — Deborah Garrison

Fire and hope are connected, just so you know.
The way the Greek told it, Zeus put Prometheus and Epimetheus in charge of creating life on earth. Epimetheus made the animals, giving out bonuses like swiftness and strenght and fur and wings.
By the time Prometheus made man, all the best qualities had been given out. He settled for making them walk upright, and he gave them fire.
Zeus, pissed off, took it away. But prometheus saw his pride and joy shivering and unable to cook. He lit a torch from the sun and brought it to man again.
To punish Prometheus, Zeus had him chained to a rock, where an eagle fed on his liver. To punish man, Zeus created the first woman-Pandora-and gave her a gift, a box she was forbidden to open.
Pandora's curiosity got the best of her, and one day she opened that box. Out came plagues and misery and mischief. She managed to shut the lid tight before hope escaped.
It's the only weapon we have left to fight the others. — Jodi Picoult

She's my best friend," I reminded him.
"If she is, she'll come to see what's good for you and she'll sort her shit out. If she's a different kind of woman, she won't. Instead, she'll see green and won't clue in that men do not want high maintenance drama queens so much they steer well clear and until she shifts that shit outta her life, it's gonna be a lonely one. Unlike her friend who sees a man drinking outta her milk jug, processes that it's highly unlikely she's gonna break him of that habit seein' as he's forty-five and still does it and has since he was a kid, lets it go and moves on all in the expanse of about a second instead of throwing a shit fit about it which gets her nowhere, is a waste of energy and leaves both involved feeling like garbage."
Well, I had to admit, all that was interesting and insightful and weirdly mature. — Kristen Ashley

I did not care if Ella went to Princeton, if she was exceptionally pretty, if she grew up to marry a rich man, or really if she married at all - there were many incarnations of her I felt confident I could embrace, a hippie or a housewife or a career woman. But what I did care about, what I wanted most fervently, was for her to understand that hard work paid off, that decency begat decency, that humility was not a raincoat you occasionally pulled on when you thought conditions called for it, but rather a constant way of existing in the world, knowing that good luck and bad luck touched everyone and none of us was fully responsible for our fortunes or tragedies. Above all, I wanted my daughter to understand that many people were guided by bitterness and that it was best to avoid these individuals - their moods and behavior were a hornet's nest you had no possible reason to do anything other than bypass and ignore. — Curtis Sittenfeld

A woman's best love letters are always written to the man she is betraying. — Lawrence Durrell

Bastien rolled his eyes, "Calm down, Hauk. All you're going to do is hurt yourself."
He glared at Bastien. "If you want to see exactly how angry someone can get, tell them to calm down when they're already pissed off!" Bellowing, he tried his best to break free.
"Is that helping? I just gotta know."
"When I get loose, Cabarro, your ass is the first one I'm kicking."
"Oh good. Hope you get out soon. Been awhile since I had a good ass-kicking." Bastien made a kissy face at him.
"Says the man who's so bruised, he looks like a two-year old banana."
"Now that's just mean and hurtful."
"Telise! He's awake again."
She moved forward and kicked Hauk in the face. "I wouldn't do that," Bastien warned. "Don't motivate the Andarion for murder. It ain't going to work out well for any of us. 'Specially me, since mine's the first ass he's planning to come after. — Sherrilyn Kenyon

I don't know what they are. They aren't completely human, so I don't know what to call them." I pulled one of the bags over the man's head, then rolled it down to his waist. My fingers brushed Clare's; the feel of her skin sent a warm tingle firing up my arms. I met her gaze, and without thinking too much about it, I slid my right hand over hers. God, I had missed her.
"Owen, there is a dead body between us," she said, her gaze never straying from mine.
"Best be thankful for that, flower." I pushed down everything I wanted to say. There wasn't time, and her bloody kitchen definitely wasn't the place. — Elizabeth Morgan

Did you ever think she was your mate?" Lucas asked unable to help himself.
Clyde tensed, seemingly caught off-guard by the question. "I knew she wasn't mine," he said then exhaled. "Angels don't mate, remember?"
"Then why did you make it so hard for her?"
"For her or for you?"
"For her. I couldn't care less how hard you made it for me."
"Because I love her," Clyde responded simply. Lucas' jaw clenched then he exhaled, acknowledging that hearing another man admit he loved Jenna would never get easier.
"Not the way you do, but I love her. I wanted what was best for her. I thought you weren't it," Clyde added then turned to walk away. He paused and spun back around. "One more thing. If you ever hurt her, I'll kill you."
Lucas let the fire in his heart fill his eyes. He would never hurt Jenna; they both knew it. "I know. That's one of the reasons I haven't killed you myself. — J.L. Sheppard

What is whiter than snow?' he said. 'The truth,' said Grania.
'What is the best colour?' said Finn. 'The colour of childhood,' said she.
'What is hotter than fire?' 'The face of a hospitable man when he sees a stranger coming in, and the house empty.'
'What has a taste more bitter than poison?' 'The reproach of an enemy.'
'What is best for a champion?' 'His doings to be high, and his pride to be low.'
'What is the best of jewels?' 'A knife.'
'What is sharper than a sword?' 'The wit of a woman between two men.'
'What is quicker than the wind?' said Finn then. 'A woman's mind,' said Grania. And indeed she was telling no lie when she said that. — Lady Augusta Gregory

I'm flattered that you need the biggest, meanest warrior on your side to best me, Uri. Let's see, how big a warrior do I need as a second to beat you and Sacriel? Hmm . . . I'll take . . . the Daughter of Man. She should even out the odds. — Susan Ee

I'll see you there little Red.' Fane's voice faded out of her mind and she could feel his humor. Oh, wasn't he just too cute, picking up on her two best friends' idea of a sick joke - to turn her into the little girl who almost wound up as the wolf's dinner.
"My, what big eyes you have, wolf-man," Jacque said out loud, unable to stop her sarcasm from boiling up.
"The better to see you with love," Jen chimed in.
"What big ears you have!" Sally continued their comic relief.
"The better to hear you with my love," Jen followed.
"What big teeth you have!" Sally mocked, her hands on either side of her face.
"The better to eat you with my love," Jen cackled, but she wasn't finished. True to Jen form she added her own twisted sense of humour. "My, what a big-"
Sally slapped a hand over her mouth, quickly realising where Jen was going with that statement. — Quinn Loftis

I've made her relive, over and over, the last few days," I say softly, watching Ms. White's body. "I've had to fill in the blanks with my own feelings and experiences. She's spiraling around those last moments, those times when she went against me, and she's feeling it from my side, the pain, the betrayal."
She thinks she's awake. I'm doing to her just what she did to me. I'm making her feel what it was like to slowly go crazy, to question everything. To watch my mother die. To fight for my life against my best friend. To feel the man who loved me try to kill me.
To know that the woman I trusted as much as my own mother betrayed me.
That's what I'm making her feel.
I've turned her into me, and made her live the life she forced me to live.
Over and over and over again. — Beth Revis

What Gibbie made of Mr. Sclater's prayers, either in congregational or family devotion, I am at some loss to imagine. Beside his memories of the direct fervid outpouring and appeal of Janet, in which she seemed to talk face to face with God, they must have seemed to him like the utterances of some curiously constructed wooden automaton, doing its best to pray, without any soul to be saved, any weakness to be made strong, any doubt to be cleared, any hunger to be filled. What can be less like religion than the prayers of a man whose religion is his profession, and who, if he were not "in the church," would probably never pray at all? — George MacDonald

Miss Kinsley regarded him with the look of disgust girls reserved for snails and frogs. "Any man who would suggest to a young woman that she should elope rather than listen to her papa's advice can only be up to no good."
"Elope?" Oliver queried, his eyes narrowing on Miss Kinsley. "This scoundrel proposed marriage to you?"
"Now, Miss Kinsley," Nathan began in his best placating voice, "we both know it wasn't like-"
"Quiet!" Oliver snapped at him. "Or I swear not even Maria will keep me from throttling you."
Nathan swallowed. Hard. — Sabrina Jeffries

Everly sighs and crosses her arms across her chest. "No, I didn't catch anything at the wedding except Finn's house key."

"Professor Camden gave you his house key? I though you said he was going to require additional convincing before, and I quote, he accepted what was best for him?"

She waves a dismissive hand. "No, I made myself a copy."

"Everly, no." I am shaking my head at her in disbelief. "No, you did not. How? Does he know?"

"Sophie, it's like you don't even know me. I borrowed his car." She stops at the look on my face. "Fine, I stole his car and ran over to Home Depot and made copies while he was busy with his best man duties. — Jana Aston

She wasn't the kind of lady that depended on a man and I think that's what made her so irrestible to them, any man she had loved; she wanted ~ and the men that loved her back couldn't handle not being needed, so she showed them the door and grew her own wings as they walked out. Love to her isn't a maybe thing, nor is it attachment and any man whom thinks he will ever own her would be best not to try at all. — Nikki Rowe

Ned seemed so different from any other man of her acquaintance, and, certainly, the antithesis of the rake she had set her sights on. She had chosen DeVere as her best prospect, yet after only this short time in Ned's company, she couldn't help fervently wishing that he was DeVere. She should feel triumphant that her goal was within easy reach ... In truth, it was as if her appetite had been whetted for beefsteak ... only to be served liver instead.
-A WILD NIGHT'S BRIDE — Victoria Vane

A man's voice was saying, "Odette seems a little off tonight."
"You think?" answered a woman.
"Less confident than last night's," said the man. "I wonder if she's injured." A loud put-upon sigh. "Not to mention that the swans sound more like a herd of elephants."
Oh, come on, Grigori wanted to say: You spoiled, spoiled people. The dancer was wonderful, just like the swan-girls, doing their best to deliver them magnificence. If she was "slightly off", it was nothing Grigori had been able to notice. These people - himself included - were all so thoroughly indulged, could they not simply accept the wonder of it, sitting in this lush, gilded theater while a live orchestra accompanied so much physical exquisiteness? And this man thought he had the right to be disappointed! That these people expected so much, that they could expect that much, and not be ashamed of their petty disappointments. — Daphne Kalotay

Old man," she said. "Don't you want to prepare or something?"
"Prepare what?"
"Yourself. For death."
Siri laughed.
"Well, Bpoo. Let's see. If the Buddhists are right, I'm just on my way to the next incarnation. Unless there's a manual for how to behave correctly as a gnat I'm not sure how I'd prepare for that. If the Catholics are right, nothing short of an asbestos suit and a glass of iced water will help where I'm going. And if the communists are right, you do your best and when you're gone they put up a statue in your honor and the locals dry their laundry on it. So, if I'm going, you're the heir to today's legacy. — Colin Cotterill

I am not a gentle man," Richard said, against her mouth. "Uh-huh," she said as he lifted her in his arms. "Nor am I a practiced lover," he said as he carried her across the room. "Nobody's perfect," she managed as he lowered her to the bed. "But I do love you," he said as he stretched out next to her and leaned over her. "And I will give you the best that I have. — Lynn Kurland