Untraceable Phone Quotes & Sayings

All of this would be fine if more talking were correlated with greater insight, but research suggests that there's no such link. — Susan Cain

I dug the untraceable phone Patch had given me out of my handbag and dialled his number.
"I have a free couple of hours," I told him, walking toward my car, which was parked on the next block. "There's a very dark, very secluded barn in Lookout Hill Park behind the carousel. I could be there in fifteen minutes."
I heard the smile in his voice."You want me bad."
"I need and an endorphin boost."
"And making out in an abandoned barn with me will give you one?"
"No, it will probably put me in an endorphin coma, and I'm more than happy to test the theory. — Becca Fitzpatrick

I've never been one to sit back and go, 'I'd better do what the audience wants me to do, because I don't want to lose them.' — Jim Carrey

I loved you and you destroyed me. You took my heart and ripped it up. You might as well have staked me. — Richelle Mead

It is time to cease to argue about God , and instead to unite in the unmasking of contemporary forms of idolatry. — Erich Fromm

Starting at age four, my mom decided that she was not going to have an idle child in the house. So I started taking dance lessons on Tuesdays and Thursdays, and then I was in acting classes on Mondays, Wednesdays and Fridays, and I was also modeling on Saturdays. And that was my childhood. — Chandra Wilson

Lissa's hotel suite had a expansive living room and work area, with an adjacent bedroom accessible through frosted-glass French doors. Serena nodded towards them."How about I just go in there?" A smart idea. Provided privacy but kept her close by. Then, Serena realised her implications, and she blushed. " I mean ... unless you guys want to go in there and I'll-"
"No," exclaimed Lissa, growing more and more embarrassed. "This is fine. We'll stay in here. We're just talking. — Richelle Mead

It's like I'm trapped in one of those omniscient dreams where you just watch yourself do stupid shit, yelling at yourself about how stupid it is, and your dream-self just keeps doing what it's doing anyway. — Kendare Blake

My aunt Geraldine was the unofficial historian and storyteller. She had all the information about family members and the gossip that came out of the church because we were very much part of the African Methodist Episcopal Zion Church. At family gatherings, the older folk had the floor, had pride of place, and it was their stories I remember. — John Edgar Wideman