Stop Talking To Me Quotes & Sayings

(Authors Publish asked WHY DO YOU WRITE?) "Voices...won't...stop...talking. When I drive the car, walk the dog, stir the soup--voices make me write down what they say and shape a world to catch the words. — Delaney Green

God, it's like talking to a cyborg sometimes. You pretend to listen, but really, you've just gone on pause, waiting for me to stop so you can reiterate your original point. — Kelley Armstrong

Quiet, you say.
I hardly hear you.
You're already that far.
Don't leave me behind like this.


I stop talking.
Immediately I'm so dizzy
I have to hold on to myself.
Quiet, you say.


I miss your laugh so much
I copy it,
louder and louder.
That's as quiet as I can be. — Nachoem M. Wijnberg

Tempting. But you see, I can simply insist on a lifetime contract with none of your silly restrictions, or kill you right now."
"You won't," Shane said. That made Morley's eyes open wide.
"Why not? Jacob and Patience were quite specific - they're concerned for Claire. Not for you, boy."
"Because if you kill me and Eve, you'll make her your enemy. This girl won't stop until she sees you all pay."
Claire had no idea whom he was talking about - she didn't feel like that Claire at all, until she imagined Shane and Eve lying dead on the ground.
Then she understood. "I'd hunt you down," she said quietly. "I'd use every resource I have to do it.
And you know I'd win."
Morley seemed impressed. "She is small, but I see your point, boy. Besides, she has the ear of Amelie, Oliver, and Myrnin; not a combination I would care to test. — Rachel Caine

Hey," he says.
I feel foolish for being out of breath and standing over him. The moonlight cuts a line down my chest. "Hey," I say.
"Checking on me?"
"I couldn't sleep. Scottie. She's in the bathroom." I stop talking.
"Yeah?" he says and sits up.
"She's playacting." I don't know how to say it. I don't need to say it. "She's kissing the mirror."
"Oh," he says. "I used to do some messed-up things as a kid. Still do."
I feel wide awake, which always makes me angry in the middle of the night. I'm useless without sleep. I can't get myself to go back to my own room. I sit on the end of the bed by his feet. "I'm worried about my daughters," I say. "I'm worried there's something wrong with them."
Sid rubs his eyes.
"Forget it," I say. "Sorry for waking you up."
"It's going to get worse," he says. "After your wife dies." He holds the blanket up to his chin. — Kaui Hart Hemmings

So I've come to the conclusion that it is thus my own fault when these people I have been talking about finally stop saying "Ah" and tell me it's a pity I always do such odd things. — Barbara Wright

Please stop talking to me and hurry the fuck up. — E.L. James

He reached for the door handle. Fear nestled into his throat, but he did not stop. He pulled the handle, opened the door, and stepped out. It was dark. The streetlights in Soho were nearly worthless, like pen beams in a black hole. Lights drifting out from nearby windows provided more of an eerie kindle than real illumination. There were plastic garbage bags out on the street. Most had been torn open; the odor of spoiled food wafted through the air. The van slowly cruised toward him. A man stepped out from a doorway and approached without hesitation. The man wore a black turtleneck under a black overcoat. He pointed a gun at Myron. The van stopped, and the side door slid open. "Get in, asshole," the man with the gun said. Myron pointed at himself. "You talking to me?" "Now, asshole. Haul ass." "Is that a turtleneck or a dickey?" The man with the gun moved closer. "I said, now. — Harlan Coben

Even though i'd admittedly accepted every advance he made on me, picking up my hand and putting it on his thigh seemed mighty forward of him. I didn't take the radical step of removing my hand,but I did open my mouth to act all indignant.
He put two fingers to my lips to stop me from talking.He knew me pretty well. His mouth close to my ear,he growled, "You know,you and I are exes."
"So?" I asked around his fingers.My skin tingled with excitement,or possibly eucalyptus poisoning. — Jennifer Echols

The fuck you are." Matt growled in my ear. "There is no way you're leaving me to raise two babies on my own. Stop talking out your arse and focus." "Rightly — K. Carr

How much to make her go to her room and stop talking to me?" Cal asked.
While I gaped at his rudeness, Gigi coughed a rather obvious "douchebag!" into her fist. I caught her eye and shook my head emphatically. Douche-coughing someone with superhearing was not a responsible choice. — Molly Harper

Jerk, v.
"This has to stop," I say. "You have to stop hurting me. I can't take it. I really can't take it."
"I know you can't take it," you say. "But is that really my fault?"
I try to convince myself that it's the alcohol talking. But alcohol can't talk. It just sits there. It can't even get itself out of the bottle.
"It is your fault," I tell you. But you have already left the room. — David Levithan

Right now, I'd be willing to kiss Ed through a bag. So it's true what they say about teenage hormones. It seems I'm raging out of control. It's not very Jane Austen of me but it feels pretty good.
The problem is, Ed's acting all Jane Austen on me and he won't stop talking. Shut up, I want to say. All talk and no action is really kind of frustrating. — Cath Crowley

Stop talking," she said boldly as she closed the distance between them until they were touching. "We can walk to the bedroom or you can carry me but if you don't decide soon I may just go insane. — Samantha Chase

Yes, I go commando all the time. Every time you've seen me I've been riding free. Now, I need you to stop talking and put that mouth of yours to a better use. Suck me now, Casey. — Lauren Blakely

I had no idea Savage Season was the beginning of a series. I wrote the second one about three years later. The character of Hap wouldn't stop talking to me, and then there was a third, and over the years nine novels and a collection of stories and some uncollected stories. — Joe R. Lansdale

That friend date had me going home and taking the longest shower of my life." "I took one too," I say in a whisper, my cheeks burning as I look at him through my lashes. His face turns completely serious, and he groans. "God, Elle, why'd you have to say that to me?" I laugh. "Say what? That I touched myself thinking about you?" His eyes hood a little. "If you want me to keep my word, you need to stop talking about that. — Claire Contreras

My ears perked up like a dog's again when she spoke and pointed in the general direction of the chick that smelled of Slim Jims.
I hope I don't start barking.
"Oh, please, like she doesn't know about the smell of meat products wafting from her lady parts. I think she rubs bologna down there to attract men. Lunch meat is her sex pheromone."
The brunette shook her head in irritation. "If I do a shot, will you please stop talking about Jade's disgusting vagina and never, ever use the word meat product in a sentence?"
"Woof!"
Three sets of eyes all turned to look at me.
"Did I just bark out loud?"
Three heads bobbed up and down in unison. — Tara Sivec

Our conversation starts out pretty normal. Matthew does most of the talking, as usual. He tells me about Wesley. He tells me everything. Well, almost everything. I was lucky enough to stop him before he got into the explicit details. Wesley also helped by nudging him with his shoulder. He even covered Matthew's mouth when the conversation took a sudden turn because the word package was used. Yeah, the conversation went from sweet and romantic to soft-core porn in about two seconds. — L. Arthur

Who are you talking to right now? Who is it you think you see? Do you know how much I make a year? I mean, even if I told you, you wouldn't believe it. Do you know what would happen if I suddenly decided to stop going into work? A business big enough that it could be listed on the NASDAQ goes belly up. Disappears! It ceases to exist without me. — Walter White

Stop. Talking."
Her whisper was muffled against his lips, and his answering chuckle was muffled by hers.
"What would you have me do instead?"
"For starters? Put your mouth to better use. — Elle Kennedy

Where writers are from is one of the world' s most boring topics. Where we're born, gender or race, wealth or poverty - those are the things we spend time talking about. Stop trying to label me. I'm a writer. Worry about whether I'm any good! — M. J. Hyland

Genesis, I have to say." God shook his head to clear it before speaking again. "I have no clue what the hell is going on. Why are you telling me this stuff?" "Because I know," Genesis replied. They sat staring at each other for a few long minutes. Suddenly, his brother's eyes welled with tears and his body began to shake. "Whoa. You know what, Gen?" God frowned still at a complete lost. "I fucking know, Cashel!" Genesis yelled surging out of his seat to stand over God. Day ran into the den and God stood quickly holding his hand out to stop his partner. God had a feeling he knew what Genesis was talking about now. "Genesis, — A.E. Via

was thinking - um, maybe you should let me do the talking." He glanced over at her. "What are you saying? That I'm scary?" "You're the scariest person I've ever met." "Thank you," he said with a wicked smile. "That's the nicest thing anyone has said to me in a long time." "No, really. You're scarier than Frankenstein." He chuckled. "You're so scary that a great white shark would put on tennis shoes and run up the beach to get away from you." His chuckle turned into a laugh. "I mean it," she said, getting into the spirit of it. "If the boogey man was in your closet, he'd stay there until you left for work." "Okay, okay," he said, holding up one hand while trying to stop laughing. "I got it. When we find the girl, you can do the talking." She nodded thoughtfully. "Yeah, that's probably a good idea. — Arthur Bradley

Is Tyson okay?" I asked. The question seemed to take my dad by surprise. He's fine. Doing much better than I expected. Though "peanut butter" is a strange battle cry. "You let him fight?" Stop changing the subject! You realize what you are asking me to do? My palace will be destroyed. "And Olympus might be saved." Do you have any idea how long I've worked on remodeling this palace? The game room alone took six hundred years. "Dad - " Very well! It shall be as you say. But my son, pray this works. "I am praying. I'm talking to you, right?" Oh ... yes. Good point. — Rick Riordan

Everything in New York is a photograph. All the things that are supposed to be dirty or rough or unrefined are the most beautiful things. Garbage cans at the ends of alleyways look like they've been up all night talking with each other. Doorways with peeling paint look like the wise lines around an old feller's eyes. I stop and stare but can't stay because men always think I'm selling something. Or worse, giving something away. I wish I could be invisible. Or at least I wish I didn't look like someone they want to look at. They stop being part of the picture, they get up from their chess game and come out of the frame at me, blocking my view. — Ann-Marie MacDonald

When I sat down to write I just felt like a geek writing about myself. And then it dawned on me, just because of the way I am, I can't stop talking, and part of the problem is that anything that gets said reminds me of something that happened to me one time, and invariably I cut people off and talk about myself. — Paula Poundstone

Once she was certain, she didn't waiver. I had to make her stop for water or a bite to eat. She obeyed, but she was restless. As clear as if she spoke to me, she was saying, "Very well, I know you want to keep my strength up, but scent fades, you know!"
And I'd say, "I know, girl, buy you're what I have and I'm going to take care of you. — Tamora Pierce

My wife, aside from being amazing in general, was really the catalyst in this, and I really owe a lot of the move to New York to her. She reminded me I've always wanted to do move to New York for theater and said, 'Let's stop talking about it and do it.' — Josh Cooke

This is the sheriff you're talking about, with a gun and badge that enforces the law. Nothing is going to stop me from cracking down on illegal immigration as long as the laws are there. — Joe Arpaio

I'm thinking we ought to rethink the whole self-esteem thing. It should almost be a dirty word. I mean, look at Kayla. She has the intelligence of a tree stump, and its sense of humour. She's less about real attractiveness than she is about advertising ... She's the kind of girl who shows how hot she is because she has nothing else to offer, who doesn't realise that hotness has an expiration date. Yet, I'm still a little nervous talking to her like she's holding a lottery ticket she just might or might not decide to hand over to me. It is nuts, if you stop to think about it. I give give her this power, and it's kind of like voting some idiot into office. But hey, we're good at that, too. — Deb Caletti

There's a thing - I've noticed it often. When I first say something, it's as if people don't hear me, they can't believe I'm saying it. Then they start to actually pay attention, they stop noticing that a teenage girl is talking and start to believe that it's worth listening to what I'm saying. — Jo Walton

You get this drama, babe, you got until the end of Tack's meeting to burn it out, but mark this, Lanie. After that meeting, I don't give a fuck if you're strapped into a rocket to go to the goddamned moon, I'm findin' you, we're sortin' this shit out and we're movin' on," he warned. "I just made a mental note to find a plastic surgeon who does emergency face alterations so you won't know who to look for," I shot back. "Jesus, I'm pissed as all fuck and still she's cute," he groused like he wasn't talking to me but actually complaining to the Son of God. "Jesus works on Sunday, Hop. You want a direct line, time to haul your biker ass to church," I shared. "You want me to let you go so you can burn this out, you better stop bein' cute, lady. You keep bein' cute, I'll kiss you in the goddamn forecourt and I won't give a fuck who sees." I snapped my mouth shut. "That's what I thought," he — Kristen Ashley

Emily is sitting up in bed staring down at their daughter. Logan has his arm wrapped around them both, and he's holding them close, talking softly to Emily. She turns and kisses his cheek. He smiles at her, and there's so much love there that it makes me ache inside. They're all wrapped up in one another, so I leave the room much more quietly than I arrived. But outside the door I stop and think about the way they looked together. Their family is perfect. Is it safe for me to want that, too? Or is perfect something I'll just never have? — Tammy Falkner

You dare speak to me in such an insolent manner?'
'Stop talking like you're two hundred years old. You're sixteen, just like me. — Michelle Rowen

I grew up in New York and I've always lived here, so I look at myself as a regular person. When somebody recognizes me from the film - and it can be a wide range of people, which shows the power of film - I feel like they're talking about someone else we both know. I just find it hard to believe that anyone would stop me to share how much they loved something that I was a part of. — Adepero Oduye

I'll take another stab at talking to her."
"If you can't find a way, get Cooper to do it. You know how he loves controlling things. I'm sure he'll want to help."
"True, but once he starts meddling, he won't stop. I don't need him giving me pointers for the rest of my relationship with Lark."
"Lark," my mother said, testing out the name. "She had such a sweet smile. I could look at that smile for the rest of my life. Yes, go kick fate in the balls and get me a daughter."
"You have a daughter."
"A new one, I meant. Preferably one who likes to visit more than Anna."
Grinning at the thought of my alpha chick sister, I finished my juice and stood up. "I'll focus on a first date then worry about getting you a more compliant daughter. — Bijou Hunter

And I'm not talking about becoming a millionaire and living happily ever after. I just mean reaching a point in my life that I can stop what I'm doing, take a look around me, breathe a sigh of relief, and think I'm where I want to be now. — Cecelia Ahern

I've been standing here plotting how to keep you naked twenty-four hours a day."
"Might be kinda hard to go back down to the party. Or the supermarket. Or church."
That made him chuckle. "Oh, it'll be hard alright. In fact ... " he pulled me against his hips again, "I'd say it already is."
"Wow, that was bad."
"I'll show you bad."
"Stop talking, you retard! Just take off your damned pants already."
"I'll show you retard."
"Oh my God."
His hands went to the belt at his waist, and then he slid his zipper down. Slowly. The move would have been sexy as hell if he hadn't thrown out this line along with it: "Want me to dance for you?"
"Oh my God! Just shut up! — T. Torrest

I hear you're quite the writer. Quite the teacher's pet."
"I ... I don't know what you mean."
"No? The maybe you're in for a surprise. A maybe it won't be a nice one."
Kate heard her voice lashing out, braver than she felt.
"I don't know what you're talking about. But nothing that pertains to me is any of your business.'
The match hissed again. She saw his black, black eyes flickering.
"You're right. How inconsiderate of me."
Shaken, Kate willed her feet to move her forward.
"You should be more careful," Pearce said. "Anyone could find your key. Anyone could get into your cabin."
Kate whirled to face him. "I have a roommate. I'm not alone."
"A roommate?" And he sounded like he was smiling ... a dark strange smile as if she'd said something particularly funny. "If someone wanted to get you," Pearce said slowly, and another match went out, "a roommate wouldn't stop them. They'd just get you. Wouldn't they? — Richie Tankersley Cusick

Tonight, the news debated the intelligence of a bear. And it got my wondering why humanity rewards itself for passing tests that we create. And that got me wondering why we care. I've studied enough wars to know that the intelligence of the target isn't on the mind of the person with the gun. Maybe we should stop talking about intelligence and start discussing our grades in compassion. — Paige

Stop talking to me. I'm trying to channel my head-crackin' mamma jamma. — Kristen Ashley

Just a guy. A college-aged guy. Talking to Chloe.
I watched him bend over the table, hands planted on it, his gaze fixed on Chloe, his lips parting in a smile as he said something to her. A slow burn started in my gut, and before I could stop myself, I was barreling down on them, Simon's protests fading behind me. — Kelley Armstrong

My worst mistake ever. We should not talk about that penny any more, la la la."
He pulled her hands down. "We're never going to stop talking about it. That penny is one of my favorite memories."
Her mouth dropped open. "Liar! You only liked what came afterward. You hated having your penny stolen."
"True," he admitted. "But I loved the note you left me. — Thea Harrison

Sure, Messiah. You made yourself a cult," she mocks dryly. "They're building idols to you in the square. Kneeling in supplication of your wisdom. O mighty lord. I will laugh when they find out they don't like you and can have you flogged anytime they do a naughty. Now hold still, you Pixie. And stop talking. You annoy me. — Pierce Brown

From my new release, Cry for Me.
This is Bryen talking.
"Stop it, T! I knew; my God I predicted you would do this! Start blaming yourself for the sins of my sick brother. He's left a stench of rottenness from here to Illinois! — Toni Mariani

In my opinion, most of us have not been taught how to be responsible for our thoughts and feelings. I see this strongly in the widespread tendency to read books and stories as if they exist to confirm how we are supposed to be, think, and feel. I'm not talking about wacky political correctness, I'm talking mainstream ... Ladies and gentlemen, please. Stop asking, "What am I supposed to feel?" Why would an adult look to me or any other writer to tell him or her what to feel? You're not supposed to feel anything. You feel what you feel. Where you go with it is your responsibility. If a writer chooses to aggressively let you know what he or she feels, where you go with it is still your responsibility. — Mary Gaitskill

February 13, 1936
I ask of people more than they can give me. It is useless to maintain the contrary. But what a mistake and what despair. And myself perhaps ...
Seek contacts. All contacts. If I want to write about men, should I stop talking about the countryside? If the sky or light attract me, shall I forget the eyes or voices of those I love? Each time I am given the elements of a friendship, the fragments of an emotion, never the emotion or the friendship itself. — Albert Camus

Ben padded over and turned the knob. Jack was unlacing his boots while Hazel brushed the leaves out of her hair, her eyes red and a little puffy. They both froze.

"It's just me," Ben said.

"We weren't - I mean, not really - " Jack started, making gestures toward the bed that Ben thought meant "I am not trying to dishonor your sister, although it is possible that I am hoping to have sex with her," at the same time Hazel began apologizing for ditching Ben.

He held up his hand to stop them from talking. "I need one of you - ideally Hazel - to explain what's actually been going on, and I need that to happen right now, starting with where you were last night. — Holly Black

If you knew I was there, then why did you ... " Her words died on a flush. Bloody Talent.
"Pleasure myself?" he offered helpfully.
...
"I admit," she said, "it baffles me that you didn't fly into a rage the moment you realized I was there. You were unclothed, for pity's sake." Fierce heat filled her cheeks. She needed to stop talking altogether.
Talent's mouth trembled at the corner, his eyes alight with utter glee. "Chase, the idea of a woman watching is in no way a deterrent for a man. It adds a level of excitement."
She would die now. Surely fate could be kind to her for once. — Kristen Callihan

I'll do most of the talking," Alex said. "But don't be afraid to ask Melinda Hubert questions-trust your instincts."
My instincts said to stay home and let him handle it. "So, will we play good cop/bad cop? I want to be the bad cop. I'm not the warm. nurturing type."
He cocked an eyebrow at me. "Really?"
Jerk. "So what should I do?"
"Stop watching cop shows for one. — Suzanne Johnson

That's what I mean by routine. You think that you exist because you're unhappy. Other people exist merely as a function of their problems and spend all their time talking compulsively about their children, their husband, school, work, friends. They never stop to think: I'm here. I am the result of everything that happened and will happen, but I'm here. If I did something wrong, I can put it right or at least ask forgiveness, If I did something right, that leaves me happier and more connected with the now. — Paulo Coelho

It's hard to imagine talking to Lucy. But I can imagine sleeping with her. I have been imagining it quite regularly. I can't stop imagining it. Maybe it's time for my first Lucy Branch, my first truly physical relationship. And why do I assume it would be a bad thing? Maybe it's better with someone different from you. I could teach her how fluorocarbons affect the ozone. She could teach me about oral sex.
We would both become better people. — Blake Nelson

I don't want you to stop talking to me because I hear everything you say. And I like sleeping next to you and holding your hand. It makes my heart beat fast when I touch you. I've only ever felt that way with you, Ellie. — A Meredith Walters

I get in that kind of situation all the time, Comrade. It's not a big deal." Anger replaced my fear. I didn't like being treated like a child.
"Stop calling me that. You don't even know what you're talking about."
"Sure I do. I had to do a report on the R.S.S.R. last year. — Richelle Mead

I see Dr. Johnston at the end of the hall, walking toward us. He stops talking to the other doctors and gestures for me to wait. He holds up his hand: Stop. His face is eager yet unsmiling. I look in the other direction then back at him. His steps quicken, and I squint, for some reason pretending I don't recognize him. And I think: What if I'm wrong? What if Joanie doesn't make it out of this?
"Scottie," I say. "This way."
I walk in the other direction, away from Dr. Johnston, and she turns and follows me.
"Walk quickly," I tell her.
"Why?"
"It's a game. Let's race. Walk fast. Run."She takes off, her backpack jiggling on her back, and I follow her, walking quickly then breaking into a slow jog, and because Dr. Johnston is my friend's dad and was a friend of my father's, I feel like I'm fourteen again, running from the patriarchs. — Kaui Hart Hemmings

They told me my family had come. I followed the staff person to the visitor's room to find my father and my younger brothers had come. To be honest, I did not recognize any of them. I greeted them, and then just looked at them. My father also stared at me. He asked me if I knew him, and I told him that I did not. He asked me where my home was, and I told him it was in Atiak. My father asked me again, "What is your father's name?" I told him, "My father's name is L. Marcellino." He asked me, "What was your father doing at the time you were abducted?" I replied that my father was a veterinary doctor. He then said, "I am your father. The person you are talking about is me." I began to cry. My father also started crying. I was confused; I did not know for sure if this was my real father. We cried for almost an hour before my brothers told him, "Dad, if you continue to cry, Evelyn will not stop crying." When — Evelyn Amony

Firenze saved me, but he shouldn't have done so. ... Bane was furious ... he was talking about interfering with what the planets say is going to happen. ... They must show that Voldemort's coming back. ... Bane thinks Firenze should have let Voldemort kill me. ... I suppose that's written in the stars as well." "Will you stop saying the name!" Ron hissed. — J.K. Rowling

{Calli} "I,uh... can you stop popping your pecs for thirty seconds and let me focus?"

{Travis} Busted. "Want me to turn around?"

{Calli} "As if that'll help. Your back is as hot as your front." Her eyes dropped to his low-slung jeans. "Well, almost." A little shake of her head and her eyes returned to his face. "God, I can't even remember what I was talking about. — Karla Doyle

If you need anything, let me know,' he said. Stop talking to me. — Durjoy Datta

People are generally amazed that I would take an interest in any forum that would require me to stop talking for three hours. — Henry A. Kissinger

We were just talking about you," Jessamine said as Tessa found a seat. She pushed a sliver toast rack across the table towards Tessa. "Toast?"
Tessa, picking up her fork, looked around the table anxiously. "What about me?"
"What to do with you, of course Downworlders can't live in the Institute forever," said Will. "I say we sell her to the Gypsies on Hampstead Heath," He added, turning to Charlotte. "I hear they purchase spare women as well as horses."
"Will, stop it." Charlotte glanced up from her breakfast. "That's ridiculous."
Will leaned back in his chair. "You're right. They'd never buy her. Too scrawny. — Cassandra Clare

Eric raised a questioning brow.

"Okay. Then I have to head back to town. Stop talking to me. I have to forget you're here."

"That seems a little rude."

"You're a ghost. Rudeness doesn't figure in. — J.J. Cook

Explain somethin' to me, babe, why is it you always wanna stop talking when I'm winnin' the fuckin' argument? — Kristen Ashley

You want to hear the rules?"
My heart jackhammered as I nodded. That same hand slid around my hip, up under my shirt, and felt warm and perfect against my lower back. I closed my eyes as his lips just barely brushed mine. His touch made me feel brave. It pushed the uncertainty back until it couldn't reach me. "The first one is you can't think too hard about it. The second is you say when you want to stop. The third is you do whatever feels good to you. The fourth is-"
"-you stop talking," I said, blindly reaching back to pull the door shut, "and kiss me? — Alexandra Bracken

Are you kidding?" I stop in the middle of the kitchen. Spin around. My face is pulled together in disbelief. "You've spoken to me maybe once in the two weeks I've been here. I hardly even notice you anymore."

"Okay, hold up," he says, turning to block my path. "We both know there's no way you haven't noticed all of this" - he gestures to himself - "so if you're trying to play games with me, I should let you know up front that it's not going to work."

"What?" I frown. "What are you talking abou - "

"You can't play hard to get, kid." He raises an eyebrow. "I can't even touch you. Takes 'hard to get' to a whole new level, if you know what I mean."

"Oh my God," I mouth, eyes closed, shaking my head. "You are insane."

He falls to his knees. "Insane for your sweet, sweet love! — Tahereh Mafi

Don't stop talking to me, Makenna. I need your words. Your voice."
"I don't know what to say is all. I want to take away your hurt."
His cheek lifted into a smile under her hand. "Thank you. But sometimes I think I need it. It reminds me I'm alive. And it makes the good times that much better. Like right now, being here, with you. — Laura Kaye

Wow, Angela and Holly," Ash said, sounding awed. "Hot."
"Excuse me, what is wrong with you?" Kami demanded. "Other people's sexuality is not your spectator sport."
Ash paused. "Of course," he said. "But - "
"No!" Kami exclaimed. "No buts. That's my best friend you're talking about. Your first reaction should not be 'Hot.' "
"It's not an insult," Ash protested.
"Oh, okay," Kami said. "In that case, you're going to give me a minute. I'm picturing you and Jared. Naked. Entwined."
There was a pause.
Then Jared said, "He is probably my half brother, you know."
"I don't care," Kami informed him. "All you are to me are sex objects that I choose to imagine bashing together at random. Oh, there you go again, look at that, nothing but Lynburn skin as far as the mind's eye can see. Masculine groans fill the air, husky and..."
"Stop it," Ash said in a faint voice. "That isn't fair. — Sarah Rees Brennan

I was breathless, talking as fast as I could. I was afraid if I stopped talking, even for a second, I'd start sobbing again.
"Whoa, there." Fang smiled and reached up, tracing a hand down the side of my face, winding strands of my hair around his fingers. "Stop talking and let me just tell you how great it is to wake up staring at your face. Okay? — James Patterson

You listen to me now and stop cutting me off. It's rude." She stopped moving and dropped her hand. "You can't tell me what I can and can't do; where I can go and who I can see."
She stopped talking so he requested, "May I speak?"
"Only if you don't piss me off when you do it, — Kristen Ashley

Steady, Legs, I'm not going to bite," he teased. "Well, not unless you ask me to."

Despite herself, she snorted. "Stop calling me Legs." It was insulting...and made her want to dissolve into a puddle at his feet. Damn the man.

"I like the look of your legs, so I;m going to keep doing it. Now, how big are we thinking?"

Big. Thick and long.

Wait, that wasn't what he was asking.

Austin have a deep chuckle. "I can see from your face where your mind went, and yes, big is a good word for it. However, I was talking about your tattoo. — Carrie Ann Ryan

He needs to be corrected, if you don't mind me saying so. He needs a good talking-to, and perhaps a bit more. My own girls, sir, didn't care for the Overlook at first. One of them actually stole a pack of my matches and tried to burn it down. I corrected them. I corrected them most harshly. And when my wife tried to stop me from doing my duty, I corrected her. — Stephen King

From the front Rdar announces, "Don't you go talking bad about GoFast bars. Do you want me to stop this car?"
"Whenever I eat a GoFast bar," Ben says, "I'm always like, 'So this is what blood tastes like to mosquitoes. — John Green

Stop, stop, stop!' he cried; stop talking a minute, for I see half. Will God give me strength? Will my brain make the one jump and see all? Heaven help me! I used to be fairly good at thinking ... Will my head split - or will it see? I see half - I only see half. — G.K. Chesterton

I guess I could be pretty pissed off about what happened to me, but it's hard to stay mad when there's so much beauty in the world. Sometimes I feel like I'm seeing it all at once, and it's too much; my heart fills up like a balloon that's about to burst. And then I remember to relax, and stop trying to hold onto it. And then it flows through me like rain, and I can't feel anything but gratitude - for every single moment of my stupid, little life. You have no idea what I'm talking about, I'm sure; but don't worry ... .you will someday. — Alan Ball

Tyson okay?" I asked. The question seemed to take my dad by surprise. He's fine. Doing much better than I expected. Though "peanut butter" is a strange battle cry. "You let him fight?" Stop changing the subject! You realize what you are asking me to do? My palace will be destroyed. "And Olympus might be saved." Do you have any idea how long I've worked on remodeling this palace? The game room alone took six hundred years. "Dad - " Very well! It shall be as you say. But my son, pray this works. "I am praying. I'm talking to you, right? — Rick Riordan

Some well-meaning folks think if we stop talking about racism, it'll magically disappear, like the smell of an errant fart. But like a fart, people might try to be polite and ignore it, but everyone knows it's there. Avoidance has never been a great tactic in solving any problem. For most situations in life, not addressing what's going wrong only makes matters worse. It's like someone breaks your arm, and the person who slammed the baseball bat into it is saying, 'The only reason it won't heal is because you keep complaining that it hurts.' How about you get me a cast so the bone can set straight again? America does not want to put the effort into providing this cast. This is why we must talk about race, and we must do it openly. — Luvvie Ajayi

He began to trace a pattern on the table with the nail of his thumb. She kept saying she wanted to keep things exactly the way they were, and that she wished she could stop everything from changing. She got really nervous, like, talking about the future. She once told me that she could see herself now, and she could also see the kind of life she wanted to have - kids, husband, suburbs, you know - but she couldn't figure out how to get from point A to point B. — Jodi Picoult

He was breathing heavily. "I honestly don't understand what's wrong with you," he said. "You're telling me to pack my bags, to leave our house, knowing you're going to have a baby?"
"And this surprises you why? Have you seen what's been happening in our house?"
"Stop talking to me like this in our bed, Tatiana. My white flag is up," said Alexander. "I have no more."
"My white flag is up, too, Shura," she said. "You know when mine went up? June 22, 1941. — Paullina Simons

Suddenly, as one, all the Greys stop talking and gape at Christian.
What?
Christian is singing softly to himself at the piano. Silence descends on us all as we strain to hear his soft, lyrical voice. I've heard him sing before, haven't they? He stops, suddenly conscious of the deathly hush that's fallen over the room. Kate glances questioningly at me and I shrug. Christian turns on the stool and frowns, embarrassed to realize he's become the center of attention.
'Go on,' Grace urges softly. 'I've never heard you sing, Christian. Ever. — E.L. James

I looked to the sitting room then and gaped at Alec's body lying across my sofa making it look smaller than it was. He was reading something.
A book.
"What are you readin'?" I curiously asked.
"That porn book we were talking about earlier at my house. This dude is my God! He just fucked this Ana chick while she was on her period."
"Stop it!" I screeched. "Stop readin' and put the bloody book down!"
He was reading Fifty Shades of Grey.
I was both horrified and mortified.
Alec got up from the sofa, placed the book on the coffee table and turned in my direction.
"Why are you blushing?"
Him noticing my embarrassment only caused my already red cheeks to heat up even more.
"Oh damn, your cheeks are so flushed," Alec said and took a step towards me. — L.A. Casey

Raising her arms, she defied Heaven.
'So,' she cried, 'you prefer your God to me? You think he is stronger than I am. You think he will love you better than I would? Ah, what a child you are! Do stop talking such twaddle. What we are going to do is go back to the garden together, and love each other, be happy and free, for that is life. — Emile Zola

I didn't think she was that kind of girl." I scampered up onto the ledge and strained to listen. "I overheard two of my students talking about her in homeroom yesterday. I never would have thought Natalie would do something like that. Then again, she's been acting out big-time. Fraternizing with that Spencer girl."
I closed my eyes to stop the room from spinning. What would have ever made me think that teachers wouldn't hear about this, too? After all, it was all over the school.
Another teacher agreed. "Natalie always seemed like such a nice girl."
But I am a nice girl, I wanted to scream. — Siobhan Vivian

Isn't it splendid to think of all the things there are to find out about? It just makes me feel glad to be alive
it's such an interesting world. It wouldn't be half so interesting if we know all about everything, would it? There'd be no scope for imagination then, would there?But am I talking too much? People are always telling me I do. Would you rather I didn't talk? If you say so I'll stop. I can STOP when I make up my mind to it, although it's difficult. — L.M. Montgomery

Georg." Deda spoke softly. "Georg." "Yes, Papochka?" Tatiana's father said respectfully. No one loved Deda more than Papa, not even Tatiana. "Georg. You cannot keep the boy out of conscription. You can't." "Of course I can. He is only seventeen." Deda shook his neat gray head. "Exactly - seventeen. They'll take him." The look of trapped fear slid across Papa's face and was gone. "They won't take him, Papochka," said Papa hoarsely. "I don't even know what you're talking about." He was clearly unable to say what he felt: everyone stop talking and let me save my son the only way I know how. Deda sat back against the sofa cushions. — Paullina Simons

This warmth over the telephone. Is it possible for home to be a person and not a place? Bridgette used to be home to me. Maybe St. Clair is my new home.
I mull this over as our voices grow tired and we stop talking. We just keep each other company. My breath. His breath. My breath. His breath.
I could never tell him, but it's true.
This is home. The two of us. — Stephanie Perkins

His eyes softened. I thought maybe he pitied me, but it was something else. "Ultimately, it will be your burden to bear. It's always the Mortal who bears it. Trust me, I know."
"I don't trust you and you're wrong. We aren't too different."
"Mortals. I envy you. You think you can change things. Stop the universe. Undo what was done long before you came along. You are such beautiful creatures." He was talking to me, but it didn't feel like he was talking about me anymore. "I apologize for the intrusion. I'll leave you to your sleep. — Kami Garcia

Can you please stop talking so I can go back to enjoying Daniel Craig's outrageously good body?" "That's so gay," JP said. "I'm a girl," said the Duke. "It's not gay for me to be attracted to men. Now, if I said you had a hot body, that would be gay, because you're built like a lady." "Oh, burn," I said. The Duke raised her eyes at me and said, "Although JP's a freaking paragon of masculinity compared to you." I had no response to that. "Keun is at work," I said. "He gets paid double on Christmas Eve." "Oh, right," said JP. "I forgot that Waffle Houses are like Lindsay Lohan's legs: always open. — John Green

I just want him to shut up and stop talking like this. I just want him to get up and follow me out of here. I just want to be back at Watford in our room, knowing he's there, and that he isn't hurting anyone, and no one is hurting him. — Rainbow Rowell

What's wrong with the world Peter?
God, I don't know. Where do you start? People give up. We're defeatists and we stop striving or fighting or enjoying things. It doesn't matter what you're talking about - war, work, marriage, democracy, love, it all fails because everybody gives up trying after a while, we can't help ourselves. And don't ask me to solve it because I am the worst. I'd escape tomorrow if I could, from every single thing I've always wanted. — Jenny Valentine

What do you want to talk about until the flight is called?"
"Cold wind. Sleet. The ugly doorman at Club 39. Porridge."
I burst out laughing. "You mean anything that won't give you an erection?"
He smiled at me, his eyes roaming my face lovingly. "Maybe we should just stop talking altogether. And put a bag over your head. And cover your legs."
"Just don't look at me."
"I can still smell you."
"I could move."
"Dare move away from me and I'll put you over my knee, Wife."
"That doesn't sound so bad. — Samantha Young

I wish she would just look at me, look at my face and stop talking long enough to see me. To see that things are not right. That none of this is real and I am in some other place. — Kekla Magoon

They might be talking in perfect latin tongue and without warning begin to talk in perfect anglo tongue and keep it up like that, alternating between a thing that believes itself to be perfect and a thing that believes itself to be perfect, morphing back and forth between two beasts until out of carelessness or clear intent they suddenly stop switching tongues and start speaking that other one. In it brims nostalgia for the land they left or never knew when they use the words with which they name objects; while actions are alluded to with an anglo verb conjugated latin-style, pinning on a sonorous tail from back there. Using in one tongue the word for a thing in the other makes the attributes of both resound: if you say Give me fire when they say Give me a light, what is not to be learned about fire, light and the act of giving? It's not another way of saying things: these are new things — Yuri Herrera

I've been keeping an eye on Henry throughout the fight. I glanced at him just as he stepped onto the mat.
"Alpha," he called. "I chal - "
He never got the whole word out - because I drew my foster father's SIG and shot him in the throat before he could.
For a split second everyone stared at him, as if they couldn't figure out where all that blood had come from.
"Stop the bleeding." I said. Though I made no move to do it myself. The rat could die for all I cared. "That was a lead bullet. He'll be fine." But he wouldn't be talking - or challenging Adam - for a while. "When he's stable put him in the holding cell where he can't do any more harm."
Adam looked at me. "Trust you to bring a gun into a fist fight." He said with every evidence of admiration. Then he looked at his pack. Our pack. "What she said." He told them. — Patricia Briggs

What's so funny?" "You freak out when I disappear and reappear, but you expect me to stop time." She laughed, too. "But why can't you? You're a god." "Like I said, we have more responsibilities than freedoms. I doubt even Zeus could pull that one off." From high above, a streak of light flew from the sky and struck a boulder not twenty feet from where they lay, sending sparks and smoke and a loud crack in all directions in the echoing valley. The boulder was split in half and was as black as coal. "Holy crap!" Therese cried, falling against Than. "What was that?" "Oops. My apologies," he muttered, but it didn't sound like he was talking to her. "I made someone angry." "That scared me to death. Does that happen often?" "No. Never to me. But this is an exceptional time in my life. — Eva Pohler

I don't know. You'll have to ask him yourself."
She sat up enough to look him in the eye. "I am not talking to
your ... your ... "
"Mighty throbbing manhood?"
"Briec."
"That which brings you much delirious pleasure?"
"Briec."
"That which makes you whole?"
"Stop it, dragon. You're making me physically ill."
...
"Ow!"
"Be nice, woman. I'm not used to this."
She rubbed her ass and glared at him. "Do that again and you'll
lose that which you believe makes me whole. — G.A. Aiken

Let me just acknowlege that the function of grammar is to make language as efficent and clear and transparent as possible. But if we're all constantly correcting each other's grammar and being really snotty about it, then people stop talking because they start to be petrified that they're going to make some sort of terrible grammatical error and that's precisely the opposite of what grammar is supposed to do, which is to facilitate clear communication. — John Green

The Doctor: This is bad, I don't like this. [kicks console and yells in pain] Never use force, you just embarrass yourself. Unless you're cross, in which case ... always use force!
Amy: Shall I run and get the manual?
The Doctor: I threw it in a supernova.
Amy: You threw the manual in a supernova? Why?
The Doctor: Because I disagreed with it! Now stop talking to me when I'm cross! — Steven Moffat

She even told me how to treat a girl on a date, which was very interesting. She said that with a girl like Mary Elizabeth, you shouldn't tell her she looks pretty. You should tell her how nice her outfit is because her outfit is her choice whereas her face isn't. She also said that with some girls, you should do things like open car doors and buy flowers, but with Mary Elizabeth (especially since it's the Sadie Hawkins' dance), I shouldn't do that. So, I asked her what I should do, and she said that I should ask a lot of questions and not mind when Mary Elizabeth doesn't stop talking. I said that it didn't sound very democratic, but Sam said she does it all the time with boys. — Stephen Chbosky

When I was 13, I was in my tent at Girl Scout camp, trying to change out of my bathing suit and talking at the same time. I fell out of the tent in front of everyone with my bathing suit around my ankles. I was humiliated - but no amount of humiliation has ever seemed to stop me. — Casey Wilson