Wallingford Quotes & Sayings

Imagine hearing a group of drunken warriors shouting your name and following it with a must die . Suddenly I missed my superspecial tagline: Great-granddaughter of Adelaide Wallingford. The tagline Must Die totally sucked. — Suzanne Selfors

I didn't know the word no, because I wanted to please everybody all the time. Every kid does. — Kristy McNichol

I can say that I have fallen deeper in love with you today, knowing the sort of man you are. — Charlotte Featherstone

After spending months living in the orderly dorms of Wallingford, where they give you a Saturday detention if your room doesn't pass semi-regular inspections, I feel the old conflicting sense of familiarity and disgust. — Holly Black

You can't work on a film without being changed in some way. — Ted McGinley

In order to get the things I want, it helps me to pretend I'm a figure in a daytime drama, a schemer. Soap opera characters make emphatic pronouncements. They ball up their fists and state their goals out loud. 'I will destroy Buchanan Enterprises,' they say. 'Phoebe Wallingford will pay for what she's done to our family.' Walking home with the back half of the twelve-foot ladder, I turned to look in the direction of Hugh's loft. 'You will be mine,' I commanded. — David Sedaris

I never got away from the war. Not because I was obsessed with it in those years, but because it was the event of my generation and I started out covering it so I stayed with it. — Neil Sheehan

A child says 'Thank God for my good dinner'. What can I say at seventy-five? 'Thank God for my good life, and for all the love that has been given to me.' Wallingford. October IIth 1965 SEARCHABLE TERMS Note: The pagination of this electronic edition does not match the edition from which it was created. — Agatha Christie

Barron's stuck teaching me. It's supposed to be just for a few months, until I graduate from Wallingford. Let's see if we can stand each other that long. — Holly Black

Our doubts are traitors and make us
lose the good we oft might win, by fearing to attempt. In other words, a
wish is a good place to start but then you have to get off your butt and make it
happen. You have to pick up a quill and write your own damn story. (Mimi Wallingford) — Suzanne Selfors

It's the water. Everything is driven by the water. — Mike Thompson

Philosophy is no longer the pillar of fire going before a few intrepid seekers after truth: it is rather an ambulance following in the wake of the struggle for existence and picking up the weak and wounded. — Bertrand Russell

I just think lots of words have physicality. How about the word 'wobble?' You think that's arbitrary? When you say the word 'wince,' you wince. How about that? — Roy Blount Jr.

The secret of life is ... everything is out of control. — Ajahn Brahm

Jane, you are my confidante, my helpmate, my friend. My lover. You are everything the word wife means to me. In my heart, we are wed. In my soul, you are mine. — Charlotte Featherstone

Reverend Fathers, my letters do not customarily follow one another so closely, nor are they usually so extensive. The little time I have had has caused both. I have made this one longer only because I have not had the leisure of making it shorter. — Blaise Pascal

Han struggled to remember Master Leontus's lectures on healing, the recitations he'd drowsed through. I'll never have need of that, Han had thought. I'm being trained to kill people, not heal them. He'd thought everyone he'd ever want to heal was already dead.
He'd been wrong. — Cinda Williams Chima

Go fuck a monkey, Ferro. I don't have time for you or your fake sincerity. — H.M. Ward

She was breathtaking in her beauty and her human spirit, he thought, unable to speak as he gazed upon her. Hers was the sort that would not fade or grow jaded with time and years, but flourish, grow more radiant with life and its experience. Hers was a beauty that no other possessed. A beauty he longed to keep, to hide away, to bask in, himself alone. She had become his. He didn't know when, whether it had been the moment her fingertips had touched him when he was hurt, or if it had grown, like a seed, slowing spreading until Jane had become the root anchoring the shattered pieces of his heart, pulling them tight together until it resembled the organ it should. — Charlotte Featherstone