Smallwood Quotes & Sayings

We're led to believe everybody opposes it and disagrees with political correctness, but yet everybody's scared to death of it. So who is it? Well, it's the power structure wherever you happen to be. — Rush Limbaugh

My dear Emma, How sweet to be under the same roof once more. It reminds me of our days at the Smallwood school, when you and I would sit outside and gaze up at the stars, you reminding me of all their names and me gazing at you. Do you recall that time I sneaked into your room late one night? And what we did? I am thinking of that now, as I write this note and prepare to sneak down to your room in a few minutes. As you read this, know that I am thinking of you. When you next see me, please acknowledge this note by pulling on your earlobe. Your delectable earlobe. W. — Julie Klassen

Collaborate with people you can learn from — Pharrell Williams

life. Wisteria had never felt so free since answering Lee's summons and journeying to White Mountain. Sadly, though, there hadn't been time for her and Ben to have — Deann Smallwood

Typography needs to be audible. Typography needs to be felt. Typography needs to be experienced. — Helmut Schmid

The words come at my call but who calls whom? — Jeanette Winterson

He began quietly, "You recall, of course, that I won the Smallwood spelling contest every year I was there?" "Yes, Mr. Weston," she replied evenly, eyes remaining on the portrait. "And you might also recall that your father declared my handwriting the best he'd ever had the privilege to read?" "Yes, Mr. Weston." He looked at her composed profile and felt admiration fill him. When she said no more, he slowly shook his head, a small smile lifting the corner of his mouth. "Well done, Miss Smallwood." He started to turn away but paused to add, "He did admire you, you know. He just didn't know how to show it." She gave him an incredulous look. "Mr. Pugsworth?" "Yes," Henry said, then walked away, thinking, Him too. — Julie Klassen

Eye on the shuttlecock, she ran forward, raised her battledore high, and slammed right into Henry Weston's chest. The wind knocked from her, Emma lost her balance and might have fallen had not Mr. Weston's arms shot out and caught her about the waist and shoulder. "Oh," she cried, embarrassed to have plowed into the man. Embarrassed to find his arms around her. Embarrassed to find she liked it. "I'm so sorry," she blurted, pushing away from him. "Don't be. I admire your singular focus. My goodness, Miss Smallwood, where is the timid little creature who flinched at every flying bird as though it were a cricket ball headed for her nose?" Emma straightened and righted her off-kilter bonnet. "I was determined not to embarrass myself," she admittedly breathlessly. "Only to do just that." He chuckled, and their eyes met in a moment of shared levity. Then he sobered. "Thank you for the laugh, Miss Smallwood. Just what I needed after yesterday. — Julie Klassen

Do you recall the last time you and I danced? I am afraid I was rude to you." She ducked her head, embarrassed. "You didn't like being forced to dance with me then any more than now, I imagine." It was his turn to be taken aback. "Miss Smallwood, you are mistaken. I am very much enjoying dancing with you. I only hesitated because I thought you would prefer to dance with Phillip. — Julie Klassen

Thoren Smallwood, a sinewy ranger with a weak chin and a weaker mouth hidden under a thin scraggle of beard, gave Jon and Sam a cool look. He had been one of Alliser Thorne's henchmen, and had no love for either of them. "The Lord Commander's place is at Castle Black, lording and commanding," he told Mormont, ignoring the newcomers, "it seems to me."
"If you are ever Lord Commander, you may do as you please," Mormont told the ranger, "but it seems to me that I have not died yet, nor have the brothers put you in my place. — George R R Martin

Jenks snorted, crumpling up the empty bag and throwing it away. "You can help Rachel by dropping dead."
"That's still an option," said Ivy. — Kim Harrison

We talked about phonies. We talked about truth. We talked about gangsters; we talked about business. We talked about the nice poor people who went to the electric chair; and we talked about the rich bastards who didn't. We talked about religious people who had perversions. We talked about a lot of things.
We got drunk. — Kurt Vonnegut

Dear Miss Smallwood, I thought it was time you received a real love letter. I am too shy to speak to you of my feelings in person, but I want you to know how pleased I am you are with us. You have an ardent admirer here at Ebbington Manor. I will be watching you. For I could gaze upon your soft green eyes and sweet lips forever. Your Secret Admirer — Julie Klassen

It seems to me that Mr. Sculley understood the very nucleus of existence, that he had kept his young eyes and young heart even though his body had grown old. He saw straight through to the cosmic order of things, and he knew that life is not held only in flesh and bone, but also in those objects - a good, faithful pair of shoes; a reliable car; a pen that always works; a bike that has taken you many a mile ... — Robert R. McCammon

Henry would like to make Emma Smallwood smile like that. He would have to make it his aim next time they were together. — Julie Klassen

A passion should remain a passion and should not become a job — Anonymous

And that love letter you wrote," Rowan added helpfully. "Signing it with another chap's name." Emma Smallwood's eyes widened, and she turned to look at him, brows high. Henry felt his neck heat. His cravat seemed suddenly far too tight. "That's right," Phillip nodded as the memory returned to him. "Pugsworth, was it not?" Julian grinned at Miss Smallwood, clearly enjoying himself. "Did you really think this Pugsworth fellow in love with you?" Heaven help him, Henry hoped she wouldn't burst into disillusioned tears. Not all these years later. And not over Milton Pugsworth. But Miss Smallwood remained her imperturbable self. "Goodness no," she said. "For all his faults, Mr. Pugsworth spelled exceptionally well and had the neatest hand I ever saw. Your brother, on the other hand, never did learn to spell. And I recognized his sloppy scratchings the moment I saw them." Phillip gave her a long look of amused approval. "Bravo, Emma. — Julie Klassen

Getting laid off was one of the worst things that ever happened to me. But it led to the best results. — Tom Smallwood

What were you doing talking to that man?" Emma lifted her chin to look him in the eye. "He was talking to me. I was only being polite." "Well, don't be. Do you hear me, Miss Smallwood? Stay away from him. — Julie Klassen

We're not in shock," I told her, even as I clutched the material tighter around my neck.
"Well, you all look awful," she said.
"Hell does wreak havoc on the skin," Archer quipped, but I could tell his heart wasn't in it. Under the table, I put my hand on his knee, and he covered my fingers with his own. — Rachel Hawkins

Do you not pray, Miss Smallwood?'
She avoided his gaze. 'No.'
'God is speaking to you every day,' he said softly. 'You might return the favor.'
She raised her chin. 'I don't hear Him.'
'Do you listen?'
She looked at him, clearly offended, then turned away again. 'I used to pray, until I found God was not listening, at least not to my prayers.'
[He] heard the inner voice of caution but barreled ahead. 'He was listening. But He doesn't always answer the way we would like Him to. — Julie Klassen

You needn't play, Mr. Weston," Emma said. "I only agreed to play for Lizzie's sake, so . . ." "Oh, come, Miss Smallwood. Please tell me you don't shun all things athletic as you did as a girl." A teasing light shone in his eyes. "Afraid you'll lose?" Emma huffed. "I am not afraid to lose. I know I shall. This isn't chess, after all." One eyebrow rose. "Oh, ho! A shot to the heart. The lady recalls soundly trouncing me, I see. Then you must give me a chance to redeem myself." He set aside his hat and adopted a ready stance, bouncing lightly from foot to foot. He looked fifteen years old all over again. Emma felt a grin lift a corner of her mouth. "Oh, very well. But promise not to laugh too hard." "I promise. — Julie Klassen

the truth from his ears, waxed strong. — Geraldine Brooks

Your aunt Jane is quite a remarkable woman. I've always liked her." "And she you." "The only Smallwood female to like me in those days, I'd wager. Then or since." "That's not true," Emma said; then she ducked her head, self-conscious. Henry looked at her cheeks, suddenly pink in her pale face, and felt unexpected pleasure warm his heart. Perhaps Emma did like him after all. — Julie Klassen

Renounce all things, and thou shalt find all things; give up thy lust, and thou shalt find rest. — Thomas A Kempis

I'm just here to spray and pray. — Tom Smallwood

Beneath the ruled sheet lay another stiff rectangle of paper. This one was in Emma Smallwood's hand, written during his second year at Longstaple. It was a carefully-lettered notice which had once been tacked to her bedchamber door: BOYS, KEEP OUT And in smaller characters: Yes, Henry Weston, that means you. It gave him a chuckle even now, years later. She ought to have known a boy like him could not have resisted such a challenge. — Julie Klassen

And what did you never get to do, Emma Smallwood?" he asked lightly, brushing the tears from her face. "Nothing that really matters, in hindsight." She shrugged. "Though I would have liked to travel. And perhaps encourage Aunt Jane to live her life. Live enough for the both of us." "No ordinary dreams? Of marriage, perhaps? A family?" She ducked her head. "Perhaps." Tears filled her eyes once more. He cupped her face in both of his hands and kissed her again. — Julie Klassen

Versace has always been a brand that I've loved, a brand that has supported me. I've been wearing Versace for so long, I come in here and I have friends here, and they really support what it is that I do. Our partnership has been great. — Trey Songz

A Squadron Commander who can't take his best friend out and shoot him can't Command worth s*#t"
-Steep Turner — William L. Smallwood

We all of us die, Miss Smallwood,' he interrupted. 'But we don't all of us make our lives count for something. How much better to die saving another soul than to stand safe on shore and do nothing while others perish? — Julie Klassen