Thinking About Her All The Time Quotes & Sayings

You were thinking about the hunky sheriff. I don't blame you. If I weren't a dragon, and a male one at that, I'd be drooling over him myself." He lifted his muzzle to look at her. "So what are you going to do about him?"
Baba sighed. "Probably something truly unwise."
"Excellent," Chudo-Yudo said. "About time. No one should be wise all the time. Not even a Baba. — Deborah Blake

I feel more comfortable in my own skin now than I ever have ... I think there's something about loving Kai [her son] so much, in a way that I've never loved anyone, including myself. Also, I used to spend a lot of time alone, but he's this incredibly social kind of guy, so all of a sudden I'm always having people in and out of my house. It's changed the way I feel as a citizen of the world. And it's really important to me to feel good about what I'm working on, to justify the number of hours I'd have to be away from him. — Jennifer Connelly

I'm sitting on the lumbering late bus, thinking about the way I'm going to start my Monday: by filling out an unexcused absence form for the cranky secretary. The last time the bus was late she actually told me, "Don't tell me the bus was late. That excuse won't work anymore today. About ten kids ahead of you said that their bus was late, too." I tried to explain that we all took the same bus, but there was no pulling the wool over her eyes. She wasn't born yesterday. — Daniel Handler

Love is different and more difficult. It has nothing to do with sex.
This is what I tried to make my voices understand. QUietly does love
happen. You're not even thinking about romance, then she smiles and
you notice for the first time that she's not all that plain, her face is
really quite sweet. You watch for her smile and notice that it pushes her
cheeks up into two mango shapes, why should this shape be so
pleaSing, I don't know. Then one evening she puts kajal round her eyes
and brushes her hair, looks quite transformed, and suddenly Sonali
Bendre is not so desirable as this one who's been under your nose for
so long, who's all dolled up to go somewhere you're not going, can
never go. — Indra Sinha

Six months ago when she first came up with the idea to kill Wilson, back when she was living in Memphis, she'd started going to church again. Since she was spending so much time thinking about sinister things, the least she could do, she reasoned, was to think about God and his love twice a week at church so that she wouldn't become a total sociopath. And rather than kill other people who were stand-ins for the person she really wanted to kill, like serial killers did, she'd be kind and generous to others and hone in on the one who deserved to die. And her plan had worked extremely well. Since she'd started planning to kill Wilson, and then decided to destroy his family instead, she felt no animosity toward anyone but him. Almost none at all! — Elizabeth Stuckey-French

It isn't any single thing," Mrs. Waite repeated earnestly, the tears on her cheeks, "It's just that - well, look, Natalie. This is the only life I've got - you understand? I mean, this is all. And look what's happening to me. I spend most of my time just thinking about how nice things used to be and wondering if they'll ever be nice again. If I should go on and on and die someday and nothing was ever nice again - wouldn't that be a fine thing? I get to feeling like that and then I think I'll make things be nice, and make him behave, and just make everything all happy and exciting again the way it used to be - but I'm too tired. — Shirley Jackson

For the next few minutes, we're completely lost in what feels like sheer perfection. Time has completely stopped, and all I'm thinking about while we kiss is how this is what saves people. Moments like these with people like her are what make all the suffering worth it. It's moments like these that keep people looking forward and I can't believe I've let them slip by for an entire month. — Colleen Hoover

For the first time, Duroy thought of all that was hidden in her past and began to speculate. Obviously she'd already had lovers, but what sort were they and what kind of society did they come from? A vague jealousy, a sort of hostility against her, stirred in him, an hostility directed against everything that he did not know about her, all that part of her feelings and life which did not belong to him. He looked at her, irritated by the secrets hidden in that pretty, silent little head, which perhaps at that very moment was thinking with regret of another man, of other men. How he would have liked to peer into her memories, explore them and learn all there was to know about them! — Guy De Maupassant

She is crazy. Head to head with an ogre. Loony Lolli, Sketchy Dave, Crazy Val. You're all a bunch of freaks."
Val made a formal bow, dipping her head in their direction, and then sat on the blanket.
Loony Luis, more likely," Lolli said, kicking her flip-flop in his direction.
Luis One-Eye," Dave said.
Luis smirked. "Bug-head Dave."
Princess Luis," Dave said. "Prince Valiant."
Val laughed, thinking of the first time Dave had called her that. "How about Dreaded Dave?"
Luis leaned over, grabbing his brother in a headlock, both of them rolling on the cloth, and said, "How about Baby Brother? Baby Brother Dave?"
Hey," Lolli said. "What about me? I want to be a princess like Luis. — Holly Black

She started thinking about all the euphemisms for death, all the anxious taboos that had always fascinated her. It was too bad you could never have an intelligent discussion on the subject. People were either too young or too old, or else they didn't have time. — Tove Jansson

I remember lying on the beach that afternoon, looking at Audrey while trying at the same time not to look because I knew if she caught me she'd turn away. I remember wondering if I had been that way with my own mother once, always distant, always trying to disappear, always dismissing her, she who had held me in her womb and squeezed me out. How ungrateful we all once were, we daughters who become mothers only to learn how it feels, the endless cycle of rejection. I remember thinking about my mother that day, wishing I could tell her how sorry I was. — Laurie Foos

Ted and I had history," Jake said. "We were in love. This hurts all the time. I never stop thinking about how much this hurts."
Zoe stretched out her arms and pretended to play a goddamn violin. — Carolyn Mackler

Time has completely stopped, and all I'm thinking about while we kiss is how this is what saves people. Moments like these with people like her are what make all the sufferings worth it. — Colleen Hoover

I know what's wrong with Laura. What's wrong with Laura is that I'll never see her for the first or second or third time again. I'll never spend two or three days in a sweat trying to remember what she looks like, never again will I get to a pub half an hour early to meet her, staring at the same article in a magazine and looking at my watch every thirty seconds, never again will thinking about her set something off in me like 'Let's Get It On' sets something off in me. And sure, I love her and like her and have good conversations, nice sex and intense rows with her, and she looks after me and worries about me and arranges the Groucho for me, but what does all that count for, when someone with bare arms, a nice smile, and a pair of Doc Martens comes into the shop and says she wants to interview me? Nothing, that's what, but maybe it should count for a bit more. — Nick Hornby

Athena: "What makes you human? What's different about you
from every other creature out there?"
"We can think?" a boy wearing a loose button up shirt and khakis called
from the front row.
"We have emotions?" a girl asked, pushing her glasses up the bridge of
her nose with her pinkie.
"We're self-aware? Like, we think about thinking and time and stuff?"
Gods, when had college kids become so uncertain? All their replies ended
with an upward lilt like they were asking a question instead of supplying
an answer.
After a couple of students gave faltering answers, I [Hades] called from the back
of the room, voice strong and certain, "They can lie."
Athena jerked her head toward me, panic flashing in her eyes as she
scanned the rows of students. When her gaze locked on mine, the color
drained from her face. "Class dismissed. — Kaitlin Bevis

This notion of rest, it's attractive to her, but I don't think she would like it. They are all like that, these women. Waiting for the ease, the space that need not be filled with anything other than the drift of their own thoughts. But they wouldn't like it. They are busy and thinking of ways to be busier because such a space of nothing pressing to do would knock them down. No fields of cowslips will rush into that opening, nor mornings free of flies and heat when the light is shy. No. Not at all. They fill their mind and hands with soap and repair and dicey confrontations because what is waiting for them, in a suddenly idle moment, is the seep of rage. Molten. Thick and slow-moving. Mindful and particular about what in its path it chooses to bury. Or else, into a beat of time, and sideways under their breasts, slips a sorrow they don't know where from. — Toni Morrison

Only a rich cunt can save me now,' he says with an air of utmost weariness. 'One gets tired of chasing after new cunts all the time. It gets mechanical. The trouble is, you see, I can't fall in love. I'm too much of an egoist. Women only help me to dream, that's all. It's a vice, like drink or opium. I've got to have a new one every day; if I don't I get morbid. I think too much. Sometimes I'm amazed at myself, how quick I pull it off - and how little it really means. I do it automatically like. Sometimes I'm not thinking about a woman at all, but suddenly I notice a woman looking at me and then, bango! it starts all over again. Before I know what I'm doing I've got her up to the room. I don't even remember what I say to them. I bring them up to the room, give them a pat on the ass, and before I know what it's all about it's over. It's like a dream ... Do you know what I mean? — Henry Miller

The earliest memories I have from my childhood are of my mum getting ready to go on stage. I must have been about five and I would watch her vomiting backstage on opening night, and then the next minute she became Isabella, the Queen of Spain. At the time I remember thinking, 'What kind of schizophrenic job is this?' Now it all makes sense. — Javier Bardem

I did a bad thing tonight, one of the most terrible things ever: I waited for her to fall asleep, then stole the sheet from under her head. I am missing you or maybe just the idea of you. I have begun seriously thinking about other men. I am afraid I am not strong enough or tough enough for this. I am afraid all the time. I have not slept well in months. When are you coming back, you jerk? We are all trying to be brave without you and doing a real crummy job of it. I do not want to have to be brave anymore without you. — Joe Meno

Miss Taylor says kids that are colored can't go to my school cause they're not smart enough." I come round the counter then. Lift her chin up and smooth back her funny-looking hair. "You think I'm dumb?" "No," she whispers hard, like she means it so much. She look sorry she said it. "What that tell you about Miss Taylor, then?" She blink, like she listening good. "Means Miss Taylor ain't right all the time," I say. She hug me around my neck, say, "You're righter than Miss Taylor." I tear up then. My cup is spilling over. Those is new words to me. — Kathyrn Stockett

Pages later- hearing and exposed- Whitman starts to write about all the travel he can do by imagining, and lists all the places he can visit while loafing on the grass. "My palms cover continents," he writes.
I kept thinking about maps, like the way sometimes when I was kid and I would look at atlases, and just the looking was kind of like being somewhere else. This is what I had to do.I had to hear and imagine my way into her map.
But hadn't I been trying to do that? I looked up at the maps above my computer. I had tried to plot her possible travels, but just as the grass stood for too much so Margo stood for too much. It seemed impossible to pin her down with maps. She was too small and the space covered by the maps too big. They were more than a waste of time- they were the physical representation of the total fruitlessness of all of it, my absolute inability to develop the kinds of palms that cover continents, to have the kind of mind that correctly imagines. — John Green

I'm thinking about the top five all-time greatest movie kisses. I can't believe I haven't made that list.
And I'm thinking about a screenplay I want to write. I have a hunch it'll be the first good movie I've ever written.
This one will be about a girl.
I don't know how I ever tried to write my story without her. — Melissa Keil

It's hard for me to talk to her. All I can do when I look at her is think about the day when I won't be able to. So I spend all my time at school thinking about her, wishing I could see her right then, but when I get to her house, I don't know what to say. — Nicholas Sparks

Good God!" she cried. She rolled off him, tugging down her clothing. "Are you mad?"
He blinked and dragged in air. "Well, yes," He said thickly. "Lust does that to a man."
"You thought we would
you would
do ... that in public?"
"I wasn't thinking about where we were." He said.
Her eyes widened.
"I'm a man," he said with what he was sure must be, in the circumstances, saintly patience. "I can do one or the other. Lovemaking or thinking. But not both at the same time."
She stared at him for a moment. Then she drew up her knees and folded her arms upon them and buried her face in her folded arms.
She did not pick up the rifle and knock him on the head with it.
Perhaps all was not lost.
"Somewhere else then?" He said hopefully. — Loretta Chase

Don't worry," I say. "There's plenty more fish in the sea."
"But I don't want a fish," Davey says. He really did say that and he wasn't even trying to be funny.
"I mean there'll be other girls," I say. "And anyway I've been thinking about all this and I'm wondering if we're a bit too young to be worried about girls. You know, Davey, there are actually loads of boys who haven't got girlfriends at our school. And even the ones who have don't really go out with them. They just hang around school and maybe outside Morrisons. What sort of relationship is that? I think we've been fooled into submitting to peer pressure and we should just stop and say no! No, I will not feel inferior. I refuse to feel like a loser just because some bimbo isn't trying to lick my tonsils ... And besides, a girl will come along in her own good time. Probably when we're least expecting it! — J.A. Buckle

I believed all Angels had wings, that they never cried, that I would live a lifetimes and never see one up close, never know the glow of such skin, or know how intoxicating the feel of her soft lips pressing hard against mine, or how beautiful was a simple touch, and then you walked into my life and made me wonder why I had wasted so much time thinking about Angels. — Tonny K. Brown

When you think about a presidential candidate spending all of his or her time talking to that tiny, tiny fraction of us who have the capacity to fund political elections, it's obvious why the perspective of government is skewed relative to what most Americans care about. — Lawrence Lessig

Marshall was watching her again, and Jane's skin prickled under his perusal. That was when Jane realized she'd made a mistake. Those freckles, his background - they'd all misled her into thinking that he was a quiet little rabbit. He wasn't. He was the wolf that looked as if he were lounging about on the outskirts of the pack, a lone hanger-on, when in truth he had adopted that position simply so that he could see everything that transpired in the fields below. He wasn't solitary; he was waiting for someone to make a mistake. He looked willing to wait a very long time. — Courtney Milan

I knew we were all thinking of her, dead and laughless, cold, no longer Alaska. The idea that Alaska didn't exist still stunned me every time I thought about it. She's rotting underground in Vine Station, Alabama, I thought, but even that wasn't quite it. Her body was there, but she was nowhere, nothing, POOF. — John Green

I have been thinking," her father said, turning to Sudha, breaking the silence for the second time. "The restaurant where we will have the wedding reception. There is a bar?" "All restaurants have bars, Baba." "I am concerned about Rahul. He has no control when it comes to - " He paused, searching for the word he wished to use. "When it comes to that." Sudha shut her eyes, thinking she might cry. All this time she had been waiting for her parents to acknowledge Rahul's drinking, but hearing her father say it now, after what had just happened, was too much. — Anonymous

I'm not the one who kissed you in the bathroom. In case you're thinking I forgot about that, or somehow missed it, or ... "
"Kind of hard to miss," Ian agreed. "Your lips, mine. A distinct smacking sound. Yup, that was me kissing you. Still, it was short - quickly over and done. A kiss good-bye. The subtext was I hope we don't die, but if we do, it was nice meeting you. Not at all like that under-the-dock kiss." He paused. "The one where you jumped me. The first time. So far." He narrowed his eyes at her, much the way she'd done to him. "Naturally I'm suspicious. Did you intentionally leave my clothes behind? — Suzanne Brockmann

Enforcing silence is easy. All you have to do is make it feel like the safest option. You can, for example, make speaking as unpleasant as possible, by creating an anonymous social media account to flood women with virulent personal criticism, sexual harassment, and threats. You can talk over women, or talk down to them, until they begin to doubt that they have anything worthwhile to say. You can encourage men's speech, and ignore women's, so that women will get the message that they are taking up too much room, and contributing too little value. You can nitpick a woman's actual voice - the way she writes, her grammar, her tone, her register, her accent - until she honestly believes she's bad at talking, and spends more time trying to sound 'better' than thinking about what she wants to say.

And if a woman somehow makes it past all this, you can humiliate her anyway. — Sady Doyle

I think that a young state, like a young virgin, should modestly stay at home, and wait the application of suitors for an alliance with her; and not run about offering her amity to all the world; and hazarding their refusal. Our virgin is a jolly one; and tho at present not very rich, will in time be a great fortune, and where she has a favorable predisposition, it seems to me well worth cultivating. — Benjamin Franklin

Inside the card, I told Sam that the present I gave her was given to me by my Aunt Helen. It was an old 45 record that had the Beatles' song "Something." I used to listen to it all the time when I was little and thinking about grown-up things. I would go to my bedroom window and stare at my reflection in the glass and the trees behind it and just listen to the song for hours. I decided them that when I met someone I thought was a beautiful as the song. I should give it to that person. And I didn't mean beautiful on the outside. I meant beautiful in all ways. So, I was giving it to Sam. — Stephen Chbosky

He thought, in your most secret dreams you cut a niche for yourself, and it is finished early, and then you wait for someone to come along to fill it - but to fill it exactly, every cut, curve, hollow and plane of it. And people do come along, and one covers up the niche, and another rattles around inside it, and another is so surrounded by fog that for the longest time you don't know if she fits or not; but each of them hits you with a tremendous impact. And then one comes along and slips in so quietly that you don't know when it happened, and fits so well you almost can't feel anything at all. And that is it.
"What are you thinking about?" she asked him.
He told her, immediately and fully. She nodded as if he had been talking about cats or cathedrals or cam-shafts, or anything else beautiful and complex. She said, "That's right. It isn't all there, of course. It isn't even enough. But everything else isn't enough without it."
"What is 'everything else'? — Theodore Sturgeon

She had a dream sometimes that she was running along a road and there was Doll ahead of her, waiting for her, and she just ran into her arms, and she thought, It's over now, I'm not lost anymore, and the dream had all the sweetness of a mild day in summer. If you could smell in dreams, it would be the smell of hay on the softest breeze and sunlight warming the fields. She thought that was going to be waiting for her, that life, and she never even stopped to wonder about herself for thinking that way. I been crazy for a long time, she said. — Marilynne Robinson

I am thinking that I don't want this to happen. I don't want to die. I don't want my friends to die. And to be honest, as the time slows down and my hands are in the air, I am afforded the chance to think one more thought, and I think about her. I blame her for this ridiculous, fatal chase
for putting us at risk, for making me into the kind of jackass who would stay up all night and drive too fast. I would not be dying were it not for her. I would have stayed home, as I have always stayed home, and I would've been safe, and I would have done the one thing I have always wanted to do, which is to grow up. — John Green

Right when you find yourself not thinking about her at all, there she'll be, right at the end of the story to fuck with your head one last time. She — Matthew Norman

I find myself thinking about her all the time. But I hurt her. — Denise Grover Swank

Arleigh said Rez was back at his own hotel now, but that he'd come later to spend some time with her and thank her for all she'd done. That made Chia feel strange. Now she'd seen him in real life, somehow that had taken over from all the other ways she'd known him before, and she felt kind of funny about him. Confused. Like all of this had pegged him in realtime for her, and she kept thinking of her mother complaining that Lo and Rez were nearly as old as she was. And — William Gibson

Before I got Madeline, I used to see dog people who were so obsessed, and I'd think, Oh, that's so sad. But now, here I am, talking about her all the time. I even dress her up in little outfits; I'm madly in love with her. — Kristin Chenoweth

I don't love any of my old boyfriends anymore. I'm not sure I ever did, and I'm not sure if at the time I thought I was sure. My mother says that's normal, that men are proud of every one of their conquests, and women wish they could forget it all. She says that's an essential gender difference, and I can't say I disprove her theory. What keeps me from full revulsion, from wanting the sexual equivalent of an annulment, is thinking about what I got from each one that I still hold on to now. — Lena Dunham

Like most girls, I want a lot. Fame and fortune. Equal rights. Shoes no one else has. But I'd trade all that in for the perfect guy. (Don't tell me there's something wrong with that. I don't know of a single person who doesn't spend most of her time thinking about love.) Anyway, ever since I could think, I have been imagining and reimagining the exact sort of boy I want to love and who would love me back. Basically, I imagine someone who has all the good attributes of the male species and whose bad ones wouldn't ruin my life. — Sarah Miller

You can go through your whole life telling yourself that life is logical, life is prosaic, life is sane. Above all sane. And I think it is. I've had a lot of time to think about that. And what I keep coming back to is [her] dying declaration: 'So you understand that when we increase the number of variables, the axioms themselves never change.' — Stephen King

I love God, whoever he is, and I'd really like to get closer to him. I've been thinking about how one of the simplest ways to get close to a woman is to be good to her children. To be kind and gentle and to pay close attention to the things that make them special. To try to see her children the way she sees her children. And how God made us in his image. How he is the mother and father of all of us. So I wonder if that would be the best way to get closer to him too. By being kind and gentle to his children and noticing all of the things that make them special. So many of us spend our time trying to find God in books, but maybe the simplest way to God is directly through the hearts of his children. — Glennon Doyle Melton

A fatalistic patience came over me. I set out the breakfast things as she dressed. I knew I reached my decision. It was as if Hap's words last night had estinguished a candle inside me. My feelings for Starling had changed that completely. We sat at table together, and she tried to make all seem as it had before, but I kept thinking "this is probably the last time I'll watch how she swirls her tea to cool it, or how she waves her bread about as she talks'. — Robin Hobb

It was the sea that made me begin thinking secretly about love more than anything else; you know, a love worth dying for, or a love that consumes you. To a man locked up in a steel ship all the time, the sea is too much like a woman. Things like her lulls and storms, or her caprice, or the beauty of her breast reflecting the setting sun, are all obvious. More than that, you're in a ship that mounts the sea and rides her and yet is constantly denied her. It's the old saw about miles and miles of lovely water and you can't quench your thirst. Nature surrounds a sailor with all these elements so like a woman and yet he is kept as far as a man can be from her warm, living body. That's where the problem begins, right there - I'm sure of it. — Yukio Mishima

When we put his kippah into the museum, everyone was talking about how much money it was worth and the embroidery by some famous artist and how it was a national relic, and all this -- but I was just thinking of Shabbat, and seders, and -- and it didn't mean any of those things to me. It meant lighting candles. It meant he'd hid the afikomen in the palace for me and joking with his advisors as he waited around for me to find it so he could give me a new book. National treasure? I--' She blinked away new tears, but this time the look on her face was one of indignation. — Shira Glassman

Evangelion is like a puzzle, you know. Any person can see it and give his/her own answer. In other words, we're offering viewers to think by themselves, so that each person can imagine his/her own world. We will never offer the answers, even in the theatrical version. As for many Evangelion viewers, they may expect us to provide the 'all-about Eva' manuals, but there is no such thing. Don't expect to get answers by someone. Don't expect to be catered to all the time. We all have to find our own answers. — Hideaki Anno

It's not a bit strange,' I tell her. 'Davey's thinking of taking up shooting as a hobby, so he wants to go check out the rifle range and he asked me if I'd like to go with him.'
Kayla snorts. 'Are you kidding me? He should be checking you out - not the rifle range! No way is that a date.'
I go to the one person I know I can depend on.
'It is a date, isn't it, Reggie?'
'S'pose it all depends on how it goes,' he says. 'If you have a good time, come home happy, then it's a date.'
'Okay.'
'But if he shoots yer, it wasn't a date - it was an ambush.'
'Reggie! That's mean!'
'You know I'm only kiddin', Tiffy. He puts his arms out and I gladly fall into them. 'Don't worry about what anyone says, luv. It's a date. — Bill Condon

The whole underneath of Paris was an ant nest, Metro tunnels, sewer shafts, catacombs, mines, cemeteries. She'd been down in the city of bones where skulls and femurs rose in yellowing walls. Right down there, win the square before them. through a dinky little entrance, were the Roman ruins like honeycomb. The trains went under the river. There were tunnels people had forgotten about. It was a wonder Paris stood up at all. The bit you saw was only half of it. Her skin burned, thinking of it. The Hunchback knew. Up here in the tower of Notre Dame he saw how it was. Now and then, with the bells rattling his bones, he saw it like God saw it
inside, outside, above and under
just for a moment. The rest of the time he went back to hurting and waiting like Scully out there crying in the wind. — Tim Winton

When you start thinking about what your life was like 10 years ago
and not in general terms, but in highly specific detail
it's disturbing to realize how certain elements of your being are completely dead. They die long before you do. It's astonishing to consider all the things from your past that used to happen all the time but (a) never happen anymore, and (b) never even cross your mind. It's almost like those things didn't happen. Or maybe it seems like they just happened to someone else. To someone you don't really know. To someone you just hung out with for one night, and now you can't even remember her name. — Chuck Klosterman

He kept thinking about Mary. What a fool he'd been to let her go. To think, with the thoughtless assurance of youth, that the world was replete with endless possibilities. He'd thought it a mistake to choose so early in life and embrace the present good. He'd been a great one for looking for greener pastures. He'd kept looking until all his pastures were brown with time. ("Old Haunts") — Richard Matheson

I walked about the chamber most of the time. I imagined myself only to be regretting my loss, and thinking how to repair it; but when my reflections were concluded, and I looked up and found that the afternoon was gone, and evening far advanced, another discovery dawned on me, namely, that in the interval I had undergone a transforming process; that my mind had put off all it had borrowed of Miss Temple - or rather that she had taken with her the serene atmosphere I had been breathing in her vicinity - and that now I was left in my natural element, and beginning to feel the stirring of old emotions. — Charlotte Bronte