Wearing Blazer Quotes & Sayings
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Top Wearing Blazer Quotes

Then J.D. appeared at the door. He was alone. She found Sam's eyes. They were filled with defeat. She was about to go to him when his face suddenly brightened. Glancing toward J.D., she saw Michael come up from behind. He was wearing a new blazer and slacks, looking adorable and terribly grown-up. Annie felt a great swelling fullness inside as Sam excused himself and strode across the room. He stopped several yards from Michael and waited. Annie stopped, too, with her heart in her throat. Michael didn't once take his eyes from Sam. He blinked and swallowed. In a flash of Annie's memory, he was a scared little boy on his first bicycle, with Sam calling, "You can do it, Mike. Give a push off, then pedal. That's it. Good boy. Keep going. You've got it." With the videocam in one hand and his eyes filled with sudden determination, he walked forward. That was all Sam needed. He met the boy halfway in a hearty hug. "I'd just about given up hope. — Barbara Delinsky

There are so many quirky characters, it's easy to fall in love with any number of the characters on 'The Carrie Diaries'. — Brendan Dooling

At the age of nine, I could cross the length of Glasgow on a succession of buses, wearing regulation garter-topped stockings and compulsory cap and - if I'd done well enough to earn the honour in last week's test - with a First World War medal on a striped ribbon pinned to my brown blazer. I must have looked like a chocolate soldier. — Ronald Frame

During holiday parties I end up recycling a lot of my cocktail dresses and just wearing a layering piece, like a blazer and tights, with it. — Lauren Conrad

A book is like a key that fits into the tumbler of the soul. The two parts have to match in order for each to unlock. Then - click - a world opens. — Brad Kessler

Selling wine is all about sizing people up, and it takes a certain amount of chutzpah. The tableside bottle sell is a very funny thing - you take a look at the guy's blazer, what kind of shoes he's wearing, what kind of broad he's with. Is he trying to be a hero? — Joe Bastianich

The entire city was his hunting ground. In the summer months, dressed in a blazer and wearing his straw hat at a jaunty angle, he would regularly stroll along under the arches, and then along the pier. Next he would ride on the Volks Railway, where in the cramped intimacy of its hard seats he liked to talk to strangers, telling them this was the world's oldest still-running electric train, and boring them with facts about it. — Peter James

For years and years, I was beset with snide remarks by certain members of the press, where they would turn John Oates into a joke, or they would trivialize what I do, which never really bothered me all that much. — Daryl Hall

Morelli was wearing a blazer over a black knit shirt, He took a seat, and his jacket swung wide, exposing the gun at his hip.
"Nice piece!" Grandma said. "What is it? Is that a forty-five?"
"It's a nine- millimeter."
"Don't suppose you'd let me see it," Grandma said. "I'd sure like to get the feel of a gun like that."
"No!" said everyone in unison.
"I shot a chicken once," Grandma explained to Morelli. "It was an accident."
"Where did you shoot it?" he finally asked.
"In the gumpy," Grandma said. "Shot it clear off. — Janet Evanovich

People have found her somber, but it is sometimes because her humor is so deadpan dry that it escapes many. — Irin Carmon

[On her recently widowed father's much younger wife:] My father has been very busy in conjugating the verb to love, and I assure you he declines its moods and tenses inimitably. — Abby May Alcott

Jackie, can you tell me if someone's dead or not?'
"Who it be? Maybe I heard something."
"Miranda Lopez." I pulled out the charm and balanced it on my fingertips, and then I realized the photo was probably a better likeness. I pocketed the milagro ad held up the Polaroid.
"I find out for you if you get me a dime."
I sighed and put the photo away. "You can't smoke crack. You're dead. And even if you weren't, I'm not gonna score for you. I'm a cop. "
"You so full of shit. You ain't no cop neither."
"Would I be wearing this fucking suit if I wasn't a cop?"
"I don't know. I always thought you sold cars or something."
I tucked my chin toward my chest and stomped toward my gate. Jackie couldn't help me. And how dare she call me a used car salesman? I wasn't always a dork in a blazer. Once upon a time I was actually cool. Until the Cook County Mental Health Centre, anyway. After that, I guess I kinda stopped caring. — Jordan Castillo Price

Myron headed down the steps. Without warning a man wearing a blue blazer and aviator sunglasses stepped in front of him. He was a big guy - six-four, two-twenty - just about Myron's size. His neatly combed hair sat above a pleasant though unyielding face. He expanded his chest into a paddleball wall, blocking Myron's path. His voice said, "Can I help you, sir?" But his tone said, Take a hike, bub. Myron looked at him. "Anyone ever tell you you look like Jack Lord?" No reaction. "You know," Myron said. "Jack Lord? Hawaii Five-O?" "I'll have to ask you to leave, sir. — Harlan Coben

The child who would be an adult must give up any lingering childlike sense of parental power, either the magical ability to solveyour problems for you or the dreaded ability to make you turn back into a child. When you are no longer hiding from your parents, or clinging to them, and can accept them as fellow human beings, then they may do the same for you. — Frank Pittman

I'll catch any rose in my vase-shaped heart, then process it through my vascular system, until there's nothing left. — Will Advise

A striking man stood in the doorway behind him: perhaps sixty-five, with a great shock of white hair. The hair was the only thing that looked at all old about him; he was close to six and a half feet tall, with a craggy, handsome face bronzed by the sun, a trim, athletic bearing, wearing a blue blazer over a crisp white cotton shirt and tan slacks. He radiated good health and vigorous living. His hands were massive. — Douglas Preston

Like the periwig and the bowler hat, the plus-four and the bow-tie, the blazer is on the way out, and those who persist in wearing it do so with a smattering of self-consciousness, a touch of obstinacy, even a pinch of camp. — Craig Brown