Stealing My Best Friend Quotes & Sayings

What is a writer?
A writer is a magician who can create a masterpiece
With a wave of a pencil
A writer has the key to a new world
Capturing readers and taking them on a roller coaster ride away from reality
But a writer can be a commanding tyrant
Or a hypnotist stealing minds
What is a writer?
A writer is a powerful being, an intelligent thinker
And an artist creating mind pictures through words.
A writer is a keeper of secrets
Or like a roomful of words waiting for a book
But a writer is also a puppet master taking control
With no strings attached
What is a writer?
A writer is a true friend
Using words to spread smiles to the world
A writer is ... ..
The voice of the hear — Carol Archer

Photography is like stealing.You rob someone of a moment that exposes something essential about their character,their soul if you like.there are people who are very conscious of that,who find that terrifying.The thought that everyone,friend of foe,can get so close to you,look you straight in the eye and judge you without having any control over it or being able to respond.A part of them has become the property of the photographer. — Esther Verhoef

It seems to me that you and I were made for each other. I am your best friend's best friend and we both have a taste for stealing other people's jewellery. — P.G. Wodehouse

She is you, Rosie. The little girl with raven-colored hair and pale skin is the girl I used to go to school with. It was amazing. Even talking to her felt like young Alex again. Toby kept a watchful eye over me though, I think he was afraid I would steal his friend away. I felt like I was keeping a watchful eye over him too, because he was stealing my friend away. I had to keep reminding myself that it wasn't you. — Cecelia Ahern

You can't really yell at your boyfriend for stealing your seat and your best friend. You also can't yell at your best friend for stealing your boyfriend. Or you can ... but Hi seemed like a much easier way to start the morning. — Ally Carter

Now, all quiet, all rusty, wind and rain in possession, lamps extinguished, Mugby Junction dead and indistinct, with its robe drawn over its head, like Caesar. Now, too, as the belated traveller plodded up and down, a shadowy train went by him in the gloom which was no other than the train of a life. From whatsoever intangible deep cutting or dark tunnel it emerged, here it came, unsummoned and unannounced, stealing upon him and passing away into obscurity. Here, mournfully went by, a child who had never had a childhood or known a parent, inseparable from a youth with a bitter sense of his namelessness, coupled to a man the enforced business of whose best years had been distasteful and oppressive, linked to an ungrateful friend, dragging after him a woman once beloved. Attendant, with many a clank and wrench, were lumbering cares, dark meditations, huge dim disappointments, monotonous years, a long jarring line of the discords of a solitary and unhappy existence. — Charles Dickens

Even though Graham and I went back to arguing and stealing socks and hiding each other's toothbrushes in the litter box, I didn't forget that Graham didn't think I needed a best friend, because either it meant he thought I was cool enough to handle everything alone or - and this was what I hoped - it meant that he was my best friend, quietly, forever, no matter what.
I mean, after all, whose skates had I been wearing? — Hannah Moskowitz

I knew it. You're an alien," said her former best friend, the pale, bespectacled creature with the spectacular cleavage.
"Yes, I'm an alien and I still made cheerleader. And now I'm going to steal your boyfriend to prove girls can't really be friends."
"I sat back timidly when you torched my house, killed my parents, and ate my dog. But now you're stealing my boyfriend? That's a step too far! — Libba Bray

Everyone's fake in certain situations. It's like when you go for a job interview and they ask you, "What would you do if you found one of your friends at work stealing?" and, let's face it, no one's going to tell on their friend. But of course you have to say, "I would tell IMMEDIATELY, because I don't think I could work in that kind of environment, it's not good for my morale." No one wants to look like an idiot. — Lauren Barnholdt

It is only to the gardener that time is a friend, giving each year more than he steals. — Beverley Nichols

You could be David's friend too". She glanced at Tamani when he said nothing. He was frowning. "The two of you really have a lot in common, and we're all in this together".
He shook his head. "It wouldn't work".
"Why not? He's a nice guy. And it would do you good to have some human friends", she said hinting at what she suspected was the root of the problem.
"It's not that", Tamani said, gesturing vaguely with one hand.
"Then why?" Laurel asked, exasperated.
"I just don't want to cosy up to the guy whose girl I have every intention of stealing — Aprilynne Pike

But all of this action goes on in the dark, hidden underground. It's called stealing or piracy, as if sharing a wealth of knowledge were the moral equivalent of plundering a ship and murdering its crew. But sharing isn't immoral - it's a moral imperative. Only those blinded by greed would refuse to let a friend make a copy. — Aaron Swartz

I've got a friend who is half-Jewish and half-Italian. If he can't buy it wholesale, he steals it! — Jackie Mason

Yes, my friend, and if you will steal for me then you will steal from me. — Theodore Roosevelt

SIX MONTHS AGO A FRIEND WAS ANGRY WITH ME and I with her. I had written about something someone said many years ago, but it was she who heard the words, not me, a fact I had completely forgotten. Her experience was precious, and she accused me of stealing her memory. Not only that, but what she remembered with grief I had somehow transmuted to gratitude, so besides stealing her memory, I also got it wrong. We argued, but there was no meeting place. For days the same questions went through my head. Is memory property? If two people remember something differently is one of them wrong? Wasn't my memory of a memory also real? There were no solid answers, just winding paths I went round and round on. I thought of nothing else; a chasm had opened between me and my friend. — Abigail Thomas