Why Are You Not Talking Quotes & Sayings

Total?" I said when he was close. "Can you talk?" He flopped down on the grass, panting slightly. "Yeah. So?" Jeezum. I mean, mutant weirdos are nothing new to me, you know? But a talking dog? "Why didn't you mention this before?" I asked him. "It's not like I lied about it," said Total, reaching up with a hind leg to scratch behind one ear. "Between you and me, I'm still trying to get used to the whole flying-kid thing. — James Patterson

I don't think for example that the Indians look at [ what is right and whats wrong ] that way [the Palestinians do]. There are a billion, 200 million people in that part of the world. Why? They suffer from terror. People that do not suffer from it don't understand what I'm talking about, you know? — Shimon Peres

Your age?" "My age? He has to be thirty." "Farm life is going to harden you, you know. You think you'll be young and beautiful for ever and that you'll have plenty of chances, but it doesn't work like that." "She's only sixteen, Em," my father said. "She has plenty of time." "That's what you think. We're not helping, keeping her out here with no company. School didn't do a thing - not that she was there long. She's wild. She doesn't know how to make conversation." "Why are we talking about manners and society, when there are real problems to think about? — Paula McLain

You're too trusting. You ever think maybe I didn't stop by just to light sparklers for the kid?" "Then why did you come?" His deep voice reverberated, making her shiver. "Maybe I want to see if I can light you up, too." Her heart thumped. She twisted her hands together in her lap. "Are you talking about...?" "Sex. Yeah." She wrenched her head to glance at the upstairs windows, as if their words could somehow penetrate her son's curtained, closed and darkened bedroom. "Well, I'm not," she said crossly. "I don't talk about sex." "Okay. Why don't we do it instead? — Virginia Kantra

Literature is a source of pleasure, he said, it is one of the rare inexhaustible joys in life, but it's not only that. It must not be disassociated from reality. Everything is there. That is why I never use the word fiction. Every subtlety in life is material for a book. He insisted on the fact. Have you noticed, he'd say, that I'm talking about novels? Novels don't contain only exceptional situations, life or death choices, or major ordeals; there are also everyday difficulties, temptations, ordinary disappointments; and, in response, every human attitude, every type of behavior, from the finest to the most wretched. There are books where, as you read, you wonder: What would I have done? It's a question you have to ask yourself. Listen carefully: it is a way to learn to live. There are grown-ups who would say no, that literature is not life, that novels teach you nothing. They are wrong. Literature performs, instructs, it prepares you for life. — Laurence Cosse

Being as I am both a woman and working-class, choice don't come into it, much, for me. I do what I must." Charles/Karl wanted to say he was sorry, and couldn't.
"I imagine you don't talk to many of us, as against studying us in bulk. The dangerous masses. To be put in camps, and set to work on projects."
"You are being unfair," said Charles/Karl. "You are mocking me."
"We can do that, at least, if we dare."
"Miss Warren," said Charles/Karl, "I wish you would not talk as though you were a group, or a class, or a committee. I should like to be talking to you as a person."
"Can you?"
"Why should I not?"
"For every reason. I am both working-class and not respectable. I am a Fallen Woman. I have a daughter. You don't want to be talking to me as if I were a person, Mr. Wellwood. — A.S. Byatt

Why you?"

"I don't know, ask him."

"I'm asking you, so, why don't you just come out and say it?"

Rafe released the door, letting it close. "What are we talking about?"

I dug my nails into my palms, letting the pain brace me for his answer. "Is he your father?"

Rafe's smile returned. "Nope. I'm not your brother, Lane. I know that's got to be a disappointment." He paused, considering it. "Or maybe not. Now you can throw yourself at me. Just not when Mack's around okay? He's not my dad, but he is the guy who busted me out of an orphan camp when I was ten. — Kat Falls

I think we're raising whole generations who regard facts as more or less optional.
We have kids in elementary school who are being urged to take stands on political issues, to write letters to congressmen and presidents about nuclear energy.
They're not a decade old, and they're being thrown these kinds of questions that can absorb the lifetime of a very brilliant and learned man. And they're being taught that it's important to have views, and they're not being taught that it's important to know what you're talking about.
It's important to hear the opposite viewpoint, and more important to learn how to distinguish why viewpoint A and viewpoint B are different, and which one has the most evidence or logic behind it. They disregard that. They hear something, they hear some rhetoric, and they run with it. — Thomas Sowell

I often look to men to model behavior," she goes on after a pause. "Not because I want to squelch what's feminine about me, but because sometimes I want a little more action, a little less feeling in my interactions. I've been doing this thing lately where I try to talk slower at meetings. I take a lot of meetings with women and we all talk really fast. But every guy talks so much slower. Maybe there's a scientist who could tell me why, but I think men are just a little bit more comfortable taking up conversational real estate. So I've been seeing how slow I can tolerate talking. I'm doing it now. Let me tell you, it's really hard for me. — Amy Poehler

At first it comes in small drops; that's how pee does, if somebody is watching, then it just won't come. I get more tiny drops, like I'm squeezing a lemon, so I close my eyes tight and concentrate.
Why are you taking so long? Forgiveness says, irritated-like, like she is somebody.
Leave her alone, is she peeing with your thing? Sbho says. Then when I'm beginning to think the pee is really not coming, it comes, so I turn around and give Forgiveness a talking eye that says Say something, uh-uh, uh-uh. — NoViolet Bulawayo

He returned his gaze to the spotlight, focusing on the person to the right of it. That was his best guess at who'd been doing the talking. "My name is Thomas. This is Brenda. We know Gally - we were with him at WICKED and he told us about the Right Arm and what you guys are doing a few days ago. We were on board to help, but not like this. We just want to know what you're planning, why you're kidnapping immune people and locking them up. I thought that was WICKED kind of stuff." Thomas didn't know what he'd expected, but the guy started to chuckle. "I think I'll let you see the boss just so you get the damn idea out of your head that we'd ever do anything like WICKED. — James Dashner

She was talking too loud now, shouting almost, and a long silence followed. Why was she being like this? He was only trying to help. In what way did he benefit from this friendship? He should get up and walk away, that's what he should do. They turned to look at each other at the same time.
"Sorry," he said.
"No, I'm sorry."
"What are you sorry for?"
"Rattling on like a ... .mad cow. I'm sorry, I'm tired, bad day, and I'm sorry for being ... so boring."
"You're not that boring."
"I am, Dex. God, I swear, I bore myself."
"Well you don't bore me." He took her hand in his. "You couldd never bore me. You're one in a million, Em."
"I'm not even one in three."
He kicked her foot with his. "Em?"
"What?"
"Just take it, will you? Just shut up and take it. — David Nicholls

In the Food-Star parking lot, a young blond woman asks Ivy if she has been saved. "What are you talking about?" says Ivy. "Saved!" The young woman's smile brightens distinctly. "You know," she says, "have you found Jesus?" "There's no point in talking to me," says Ivy. When the young woman only blinks and ups her smile volume, Ivy says, "I don't believe in God." "Why not?" "Because I know that I am entirely insignificant, doomed to complete extinction, and I see no reason to pretend otherwise. — Jennifer Egan

When you say '90210,' everyone knows what you're talking about. So why not make use of that? And they certainly have. I think the show looks beautiful, and all the actors are doing a great job. It's a tangled web they've created thus far. It's great. — Jason Priestley

Thought Experiment: Imagine that you are Johnny Carson and find yourself caught in an intolerable one-on-one conversation at a cocktail party from which there is no escape. Which of the two following events would you prefer to take place: (1) That the other person become more and more witty and charming, the music more beautiful, the scene transformed to a villa at Capri on the loveliest night of the year, while you find yourself more and more at a loss; or (2) that you are still in Beverly Hills and the chandeliers begin to rattle, a 7.5 Richter earthquake takes place, and presently you find yourself and the other person alive and well, and talking under a mound of rubble.
If your choice is (2), explain why it is possible for a true conversation to take place under the conditions of (2) but not (1). — Walker Percy

Like a cross between Paul Auster's The Book of Illusions and Janice Lee's Damnation, The Absolution of Roberto Acestes Laing is at once smart and slyly unsettling. It is expert at creating a quietly building sense of dread while claiming to do something as straightforward as describe lost films - like those conversations you have in which you realize only too late that what you actually talking about and what you think you are talking about are not the same thing at all. With Rombes, Two Dollar Radio deftly demonstrates why it is rapidly becoming the go-to press for innovative fiction. — Brian Evenson

Why are you kissing me?" she squeaked out breathlessly.
"God, how can I not?" He ran his hands up and down her arms. "I think you're made for me to kiss. I need to kiss you. You need to be kissed," he said firmly, as if he'd reached some decision that brooked no debate. This did not sound like the smooth-talking and self-possessed charmer of his reputation. — Catherine LaRoche

I don't know. Girls are just . . . weird," Matt grumbled. "You're ready to forgive Dex at the drop of the hat, but you're pissy with me because I don't want you to get hurt. Karyn's annoyed because I took you home last night, even though she told me to. And Mom's mad because I'm not talking to Dad. But you all smile and tell me everything's fine. What is it with you? Why are you mad all the time and pretending you aren't? — Aimee L. Salter

Why should existence be arranged so that our alienation from God is a given and we must forever fight our way not simply toward what he is but toward the whole notion that he is? If you let go of the literal creation story as it comes down to us through Genesis, if you let go of the Garden of Eden, the intellectual apple, the whole history of man's separation from God tied to the tongue of a talking snake; if you let go of these things - and who but a child could hold on to them - then you are left, paradoxically, with a child's insistent question: Why? — Christian Wiman

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

Why is Dave Chappelle going to Africa? Why does Mariah Carey make a hundred-million dollar deal and take her clothes off on TRL? A weak person can not get here and talk to you. Ain't no weak people talking to you. So what is happening in Hollywood? Nobody knows! The worst thing to call somebody is crazy. It's dismissive. I don't understand this person, so they're crazy. That's bullshit. These people are not crazy, they're strong people. Maybe the environment is a little sick. — Dave Chappelle

Why are we talking about talking? Why negotiating about negotiating? It's very simple. If you want to get to peace, put all your preconditions on the side, sit down opposite a table, not in a studio, by the way. — Benjamin Netanyahu

So, you are now talking to birds?"
Hanlon glanced back from looking up at the tree the crow sat in and said, "Not all birds, just crows, oh, and hawks and eagles, sometimes ospreys, but never vultures."
She laughed at his attempt at humor, "Why don't you talk to vultures?"
"Well, Sassy, because vultures aren't very good conversationalists. Doug Hiser -Montana Mist coming soon 2010 — Doug Hiser

Every now and then, we change our minds. It's our prerogative. The big secret is" - I leaned in conspiratorially - "sometimes, even we don't know why. There are times after we pick a fight where we're as confused as you are. But there's no way we're admitting it." I shrugged a shoulder, "That's why we have boobs."
Jake's eyebrows shot up.
"See, after we've acted crazy, and the guy's wondering what he's doing with us, we use them to mesmerize him, so he forgets that we're crazy." I shot Jake my most seductive smile and leaned the assets in question against his arm. "And by the way, if you look at my cleavage right now, even though I'm the one talking about it, I'll accuse you of not caring about what I saw and of just treating me like an object."
Jake swallowed hard, keeping eye contact with me, though I could tell he was fighting his impulse to look down. A mischievous glint flickered through his eyes. "And treating you like an object would be bad? — Cindi Madsen

I'm very glad you asked me that, Mrs Rawlinson. The term 'holistic' refers to my conviction that what we are concerned with here is the fundamental interconnectedness of all things. I do not concern myself with such petty things as fingerprint powder, telltale pieces of pocket fluff and inane footprints. I see the solution to each problem as being detectable in the pattern and web of the whole. The connections between causes and effects are often much more subtle and complex than we with our rough and ready understanding of the physical world might naturally suppose, Mrs Rawlinson.

"Let me give you an example. If you go to an acupuncturist with toothache he sticks a needle instead into your thigh. Do you know why he does that, Mrs Rawlinson?

No, neither do I, Mrs Rawlinson, but we intend to find out. A pleasure talking to you, Mrs Rawlinson. Goodbye. — Douglas Adams

I got a personal e-mail and went to their event because I couldn't believe that they were interested in me and I wanted to find out why," she said. But when she got there, she wasn't sure why she'd come in the first place. "I looked around and felt that I not only didn't belong with the group of people but that I didn't believe in what the organization stands for or does," she said. "There's definitely a compulsion element to it. You feel like so many people are doing it and talking about it all the time like it's interesting, so you start to wonder if maybe it really is. — Marina Keegan

Sorry," I said ...
"Sorry for what?" He glanced over at me.
"For whatever I did wrong," I said.
"Did you do something?"
I shrugged, "Why are you not talking to me?"
"I'm just driving." He moved his hand from the gearshift onto my leg. "Do you like snowmobiling?"
"I love it," I said.
He shot me a look. "Have you ever gone snowmobiling before?"
"No," I said.
He smiled. God, I hate his smile, I love it so much. — Rachel Vail

You think you betrayed me and one day I will kill you for it.
I'm not sure why I even bother talking. My eyes flashed with temper. I hated being transparent.
That you allied with Darroc to attain your goals did not betray me. I'd have done the same.
Then why are you so pissy?
That you fucked him will be forgiven once you fuck me. Another woman might run headlong toward absolution. — Karen Marie Moning

Traveling is all about talking to new people. That's the ball game. That's the whole point, travel to an exotic place, meet the people, immerse in their culture, and find out why they're so fucked up. If you're not going to spill your guts to complete strangers, why take the trip? You might as well just stay home abusing sex toys until that mishap that brings paramedics and you become the talk of the neighborhood. But communication is easy for me because I'm a listener. I love to hear people gab about themselves. Every single person is special. Everyone has great stories. Like you. I'll bet you have a million. How old are you? Sixty? — Tim Dorsey

So where should we go at it?' asked Bastian.
'Anywhere you want me,' I murmured, dreamily.
'Pardon?'
'Anywhere,' I said.
'Why don't we start in a familiar place, so we are not nervous our first time?'
I have to remind myself that this is real, and not part of the daydream. He's talking about the Storytelling Project. Not sex. — Megan McCafferty

I look back on some of my outfits, and I'm like: 'Why did I wear that? Where are my friends and why didn't they tell me not to leave the house?' If they had, I probably would've said, 'You don't know what you're talking about. This looks amazing.' — Zoe Kravitz

There's fantasies about what heaven is like and who Satan is and why you shouldn't masturbate or why you should vote Republican. It's funny because it's an election year and their news broadcasts are constantly talking about "Vote Republican". I think that they think they're being subtle about it, but that's definitely not the case. So I'm like, "What does this have anything to do with the nice advice you were giving about how to live your life, how to get along with your spouse etc?" — Brad Warner

The only thing worse than taking things personally is being told you take things personally. And how am I supposed to take things, if you please? Why bother talking to anyone at all if you are not supposed to consider anything that is said to be at all personal? — Meg Howrey

What are you doing?" she finally asked. "Just thinking about my day. What are you doing?" "Trying to find Jace. Have you seen her?" "Trying to find her? Why? Is it because she's Albanian?" "I'm trying to ... wait ... what?" "You hate her because she's Albanian?" "I don't hate - " "Is it just Albanians you hate, or is it all East Europeans?" "What are you talking about?" "Wow. I had no idea you were like this." Another sister-Crow showed up. "Like what?" "Rachel hates Eastern Europeans." "I do not!" "So you hate all Europeans? Is that what you're saying?" "No!" "My God, Rachel." The other sister-Crow shook her head, disgust on her face as she walked off. "I'm really disappointed in you." "Wait ... " Rachel glared down at Annalisa. "Jesus Christ." "So you hate the Christian God, too? — Shelly Laurenston

I was once talking about gender and a man said to me, "Why does it have to be you as a woman? Why not you as a human being?" This type of question is a way of silencing a person's specific experiences. Of course I am a human being, but there are particular things that happen to me in the world because I am a woman. — Chimamanda Ngozi Adichie

You are not really free, and that is why you do not know what I am talking about. — Bryant McGill

And what if I want you?" I ask softly.
"I'm here, aren't I?"
"You are. You keep coming back. For what? What is this between us?"
He slides a hand into my hair and leads me to lean into him again. "It's whatever you want it to be, gorgeous. With one exception."
"What's that?"
"It's not just sex. That's why I won't sleep with you. I won't let this be just sex."
That makes me smile. "Why me, Asher? I'm just some small-town slut with too much baggage. You could have anyone." I can feel his heart beating against my cheek and its steady pace increases at my question. "Why me?"
"Sweetheart, when you know the answer to that question, we won't be talking anymore."
I pull back and blink at him. "You'll be gone?"
His lips quirk. "I'll be inside you. — Lexi Ryan

Foreign behavior? What the fuck are you talking about? Foreign behavior? Have you read Things Fall Apart? Ifemulu asked, wishing she had not told Ranyinudo about Dike. She was angrier with Ranyinudo than she had ever been, yet she knew that Ranyinudo meant well, and had said what many other Nigerians would say, which was why she had not told anyone else about Dike's suicide attempt since she came back. — Chimamanda Ngozi Adichie

You don't respect me, George," said Mrs. Morland indignantly. "You never have. And I don't respect you. We are just friends."
"Well, friends the merest Keep much that I resign," said George Knox with a voice rather unlike his own.
"I know why you are talking like that, George," said Mrs Morland. "You've been reading Browning. But I am not your Lost Mistress."
There was a moment's silence from her slightly stunned audience.
"And I have never been anyone's mistress," the gifted writer continued. "Nobody ever asked me and I should have been furious if they had. Stoker would have given notice. And it would have been most awkward for my boys; especially the married ones. I mean, my boys wouldn't have taken much notice but my daughters-in-law, whom I am devoted to, would think it not a good thing. — Angela Thirkell

You loved her, but you let her marry some other fella? Why'd you do a fool thing like that?"
"Because it was best for her."
"How do you know it was best for her?"
Houston swiveled his head and captured his brother's gaze. "What?"
Austin shrugged. "What if what you thought was best for her wasn't what she wanted?"
"What are you talking about?"
Austin slid his backside across the porch. "I'm not learned in these matters so I don't understand how you know what you did was best for her."
-Houston and Austin — Lorraine Heath

Man. "STOP CRYING, DAMMIT! I'M SICK OF YOUR CRYING!" Mark clutched his knees and tried to stop crying. His head pounded and his mouth was dry. He stuck his hands between his knees and bent over. He had to stop crying and think of something. On a television show once some nut was about to jump off a building, and this cool cop just kept talking to him and talking to him, and finally the nut started talking back and of course did not jump. Mark quickly smelled for gas, and asked, "Why are you — John Grisham

That's why we cannot love, because with the ego, love is impossible. That's why we go on talking so much about love, but we never are in love. And whatsoever we call love is more or less sex, it is not love; because you cannot lose your ego, and love cannot exist unless the ego has disappeared. Love, meditation, godliness, they all require one thing - the ego must not be there. That's why Jesus is right in saying that God is love, because both phenomena happen only when the ego is not. — Rajneesh

The best thing about Sassy Seats is that grandmothers cannot figure out how they work and are in constant fear of the child's falling. This often makes them forget to comment on other aspects of the child's development, like why he is not yet talking or is still wearing diapers. Some grandmothers will spend an entire meal peering beneath the table and saying, "Is that thing steady?" rather than, "Have you had a doctor look at that left hand? — Anna Quindlen

I learned a lot about systems of oppression and how they can be blind to one another by talking to black men. I was once talking about gender and a man said to me, "Why does it have to be you as a woman? Why not you as a human being?" This type of question is a way of silencing a person's specific experiences. Of course I am a human being, but there are particular things that happen to me in the world because I am a woman. This same man, by the way, would often talk about his experience as a black man. (To which I should probably have responded, "Why not your experiences as a man or as a human being? Why a black man?") — Chimamanda Ngozi Adichie

You realize I had half my guard out searching for you?" Eddard Stark said when they were alone. "Septa Mordane is beside herself with fear. She's in the sept praying for your safe return. Arya, you know you are never to go beyond the castle gates without my leave."
"I didn't go out the gates," she blurted. "Well, I didn't mean to. I was down in the dungeons, only they turned into this tunnel. It was all dark, and I didn't have a torch or a candle to see by, so I had to follow. I couldn't go back the way I came on account of the monsters. Father, they were talking about killing you! Not the monsters, the two men. They didn't see me, I was being still as stone and quiet as a shadow, but I heard them. They said you had a book and a bastard and if one Hand could die, why not a second? Is that the book? Jon's the bastard, I bet. — George R R Martin

Why are people are so afraid of death? Why do they avoid talking about it? Maybe it's because there are no words. With my limited knowledge of the English language, there is not a word I have ever heard that accurately describes what "death" is. You can look it up in the dictionary for yourself. I don't believe what they say it is. How can you say death is death when it is not death at all, but life? — Kate McGahan

She sat silently in her rocking chair. Some people are good at talking, but Granny Weatherwax was good at silence. She could sit so quiet and still that
she faded. You forgot she was there. The room became empty.
Tiffany thought of it as the I'm-not-here spell, if it was a spell. She reasoned that everyone had something inside them that told the world they
were there. That was why you could often sense when someone was behind you, even if they were making no sound at all. You were receiving their
I-am-here signal.
Some people had a very strong one. They were the people who got served first in shops. Granny Weatherwax had an I-am-here signal that bounced off the mountains when she wanted it to; when she walked into a forest, all the wolves and bears ran out the other side. She could turn it off, too. She was doing that now. Tiffany was having to concentrate to see her. Most of her mind was telling her that there was no one there at all. — Terry Pratchett

It's like the frog that tried to outdo the cow...see, the consequences are reflected in each of us as individuals. A people so oppressed by the West have no mental leisure, they can't do anything worthwhile. They get an education that's stripped to the bare bone, and they're driven with their noses to the grindstone until they're dizzy -- that's why they all end up with nervous breakdowns. Try talking to them -- they're usually stupid. They haven't thought about a thing beyond themselves, that day, that very instant. They're too exhausted to think about anything else; it's not their fault. Unfortunately, exhaustion of the spirit and deterioration of the body come hand-in-hand. And that's not all. The decline of morality has set in too. Look where you will in this country, you won't find one square inch of brightness. It's all pitch black. So what difference would it make... — Soseki Natsume

She was in big trouble now.
"You stupid man," she said to the body on the floor. "Why did you have to lunge at me like that? Why couldn't you have left well enough alone? I told your father I wasn't going to marry you. I told him I wouldn't marry you if you were the last idiot in Britain."
She nearly stamped her foot in frustration. Why was it her words never came out quite the way she
intended them to?
"What I meant to say was that you are an idiot," she said to Percy, who, not
surprisingly, didn't respond, "and that I wouldn't marry you if you were the last man in Britain, and- Oh, blast. What am I doing talking to you, anyway? You're quite dead. — Julia Quinn

Well,'said Ernest, 'by some strange coincidence I know this story.'
Boddichek was not good at irony. 'I knew that there was that possibility,' he said, 'but we have a great new way to treat it, and I thought you might want to reread it before taking a meeting.'
'Reread it?' said Mayday. 'We are talking about Cinderella, and the wicked stepmother and the Ugly Sisters and Buttons the page and the Fairy Godmother, "Cinders, you shall go to the ball but be sure you're home by midnight or you'll turn into pumpkin"?'
'Hey, you know it pretty well,' said young Casey with admiration in his voice. 'But I've found a new directionality for this story.'
'Do you mean direction?' asked Mayday.
'I guess I do.'
'Then', snapped Mayday, 'why don't you fucking say so? — Jonathan Lynn

Are you in love with him?"
"What?" I asked, and my heart dropped to my stomach. "Why would you ... " I wanted to argue, but the strength had gone out of my words.
"He's in love with you." He lifted his head and looked up at me. "Do you know that?"
"I-I don't know what you're talking about," I stammered. I walked over to the bed, needing to do something to busy myself, so I pulled up the sheets. "Loki is merely-"
"I see your auras," Tove interrupted me, his voice firm but not angry. "His is silver, and yours is gold. And when you're around each other, you both get a pink halo. Just now you were both glowing bright pink, and your auras intertwined. — Amanda Hocking

Why do I even bother talking to you? You are not helping. You are the capital U of Unhelpful. — Marissa Meyer

Still smiling, he leaned toward me. "You're jealous, aren't you?"
"Why would I be jealous of her?"
"Because she has what you don't."
"Which would be what? A bad hairdresser, poor rhythm, or a striking lack of financial sense when it comes to buying clothes?"
His smile grew. "Admit it, you're jealous."
"I'm not jealous." I straightened the napkins into a tall stack. "Rich people are so arrogant. You all think everyone just sits around coveting your wealth. Well, my happiness isn't dependent on my account numbers."
He gave a mock grunt. "I wasn't talking about Olivia's money. I was talking about me."
"Oh." It was suddenly hard to breathe. — Janette Rallison

No," I said automatically, "don't do anything about Dad. You can't fix my relationship with him."
"I can block or run interference."
"Thanks, Jack, but I don't need blocking, and I really don't need any more interference."
He looked annoyed. "Well, why did you waste all that time complaining to me if you didn't want me to do something about it?"
"I don't want you to fix my problems. I just wanted you to listen."
"Hang it all, Haven, talk to a girlfriend if all you want is a pair of ears. Guys hate it when you give us a problem and then don't let us do something about it. It makes us feel bad. And then the only way to make ourselves feel better is to rip a phone book in two or blow something up. So let's get this straight - I'm not a good listener. I'm a guy."
"Yes you are." I stood and smiled. "Want to buy me a drink at an after work bar?"
"Now you're talking," my brother said, and we left the office. — Lisa Kleypas

What are you doing?" "I'm sitting down." "Why?" "Because if I want to drink my tea, I need to be sitting," Elle said. "What nonsense are you talking about? There is no tea here." "Of course not. It hasn't arrived yet." "You called for tea in my study?" "Yes." Severin — K.M. Shea

Honestly, Evie," I huffed, flopping back to the centre of my bed and glaring at the ceiling. "Why don't you whine some more instead of actually doing anything?"
"Talking to yourself is the first sign of madness," Arianna volunteered, leaning on the frame of my open door.
"Yeah, so's seeing things no one else can, but people seem to like that about me."
"Good point. Odds are, you've been crazy for years now. I'm probably nothing more than a figment of your imagination."
"If that were true, I'd imagine you as less of a slob."
She sighed. "Isn't it sad that you hate yourself so much you can't even dream up a pleasant roommate?"
"Not as sad as the fact that you admit how bad you suck as one."
Flashing a wicked grin, she narrowed her eyes. " I'd use the term 'suck' sparingly around me. Don't want to go planting ideas in my pretty, dead head."
I threw a pillow at her. — Kiersten White

Trains are relentless things, aren't they, Monsieur Poirot? People are murdered and die, but they go on just the same. I am talking nonsense, but you know what I mean."
"Yes, yes, I know. Life is like a train, Mademoiselle. It goes on. And it is a good thing that that is so."
"Why?"
"Because the train gets to its journey's end at last, and there is a proverb about that in your language, Mademoiselle."
"'Journey's end in lovers meeting.'" Lenox laughed. "That is not going to be true for me."
"Yes
yes, it is true. You are young, younger than you yourself know. Trust the train, Mademoiselle, for it is le bon Dieu who drives it."
The whistle of the engine came again.
"Trust the train, Mademoiselle," murmured Poirot again. "And trust Hercule Poirot. He knows. — Agatha Christie

Let me say something at the outset. The questions that have been asked so far in this debate illustrate why the American people don't trust the media. This is not a cage match. And, you look at the questions - "Donald Trump, are you a comic-book villain?" "Ben Carson, can you do math?" "John Kasich, will you insult two people over here?" "Marco Rubio, why don't you resign?" "Jeb Bush, why have your numbers fallen?" How about talking about the substantive issues the people care about? — Ted Cruz

Can't introduce ya,' the feline admitted.
'Why not?'
'Don't know his name.'
'Snuggling up to a man y'all don't know. My momma was right. Yankees are whores.'
'Well, I know him,' MacDermot volumteered.
The She-wolf stared at her. 'So?'
'You said y'all.'
'I didn't say 'all y'all.' So I wasn't talking to you.'
'I don't understand your country-speak,' McDermot complained, dropping into the desk chair across from Crush. — Shelly Laurenston

March 4 CHARITY is being rescued by the LORD I love you just as the Father loves me. ~ John 15:9 Someone asked an old chief "Why're you always talking about Jesus?" The chief didn't say anything. Instead, he collected some dry grass and twigs and put them into a circle. Next he caught a caterpillar, feeding on a nearby clump of weeds. He placed it inside the circle. Then, he took a match and set fire to the dry grass and the twigs. As the fire blazed up, the caterpillar began to search for an escape. At this point the old chief extended his finger to the caterpillar. Instantly, it climbed on to it. He said, "That's what Jesus did for me. I was like the caterpillar, without hope. Then Jesus rescued me. How can I not talk about my Savior's love and mercy?" ~ Mark Link, S.J. How grateful are you for what Jesus did for us? How do you show it concretely? It wasn't the nails that held Jesus on the cross but his love for us. ~ Author unknown — Scott Hahn

First of all, I had the desire for that format [silent movie], and then when I was talking to people, I felt that people needed justification. Why are you doing a silent movie? Is it just for your own pleasure? I felt it was not enough for them so I realized I have to choose the subject that will make things easier for them and to tell the story of a silent actor makes sense for doing a silent movie. — Michel Hazanavicius

Why not provoke some thought and get people talking about things? I like characters that are flawed because we all are. When people break up in a script, you think, Oh, right, there must be tears shed here. But maybe the fact of the matter is that they're both laughing. — Michael Fassbender

When people are talking about soul and other stuff and how other people communicate - it's not scary it's something normal???
...Okay then but why you are afraid of horror films with paranormal stuff?? Why??? — Deyth Banger

What destiny crap are you talking about?"
A secretive smile curved the corners of his lips. "There is so much you do not know."
Why I hadn't blasted the glittery fuck-face out the window yet was anyone's guess. — Jennifer L. Armentrout

Han smiled. "A sNymph will enjoy the order, the sensation, welcome it. Showing her beautiful glowing breast will never be a problem. But you ... you ... cower from it. Why are you showing yourself inferior? If you're a sNymph why can't I see your breast?"
Her tone was shaken but resolute. "You will need my consent."
Han shrugged. "Well then, sNymph, do show me your breast."
She didn't hesitate. "No."
"Han," Sam called.
Sam glanced backward. "What now Sam? Can't you see I'm busy talking to a sNymph?"
"Can I talk to you privately?" Sam asked.
Han exhaled before standing and walking to Sam. "What about?"
"Not here," Sam replied and exited.
Han followed.
Sam whispered. "I think we both know she's an iNymph. — Dew Platt

We wondered, sometimes, when your conscience and his would part company, and over what." Dr. Finch smiled. "Well, we know now. I'm just thankful I was around when the ructions started. Atticus couldn't talk to you the way I'm talking - " "Why not, sir?" "You wouldn't have listened to him. You couldn't have listened. Our gods are remote from us, Jean Louise. They must never descend to human level. — Harper Lee

It's just that it's a good idea not to let him have your phone number unless you possess an industrial-grade answering machine." "What? Why's that?" "Well, he's one of those people who can only think when he's talking. When he has ideas, he has to talk them out to whoever will listen. Or, if the people themselves are not available, which is increasingly the case, their answering machines will do just as well. He just phones them up and talks at them. He has one secretary whose sole job is to collect tapes from people he might have phoned, transcribe them, sort them and give him the edited text the next day in a blue folder. — Douglas Adams

I enjoy every opportunity and live every moment. And that is why I have no regrets. It's when you are not scared of losing that you win everything. Very often I take cabs to travel during the course of the day because I enjoy talking to cabbies from different parts of India. — Shailender Singh

Beth stared at the bowl, a fragile piece of the past, such a delicate object in Ian's large, blunt fingers. "Are you certain?"
"Of course I'm certain." His frown returned. "Do you not want it?"
"I do want it," Beth said hastily. She held her hands out for it. "I'm honored." The frown faded, to be replaced by a slight quirk of his lips.
"Is it better than a new carriage and horses and a dozen frocks?"
"What are you talking about? It's a hundred times better."
"It's only a bowl."
"It's special to you, and you gave it to me." Beth took it carefully and smiled at the dragons chasing one another in eternal determination. "It's the best gift in the world."
Ian took it gently back from her and replaced it in its slot. That made sense; in here it would stay safe and unbroken.
But the kiss Ian gave her after that was anything but sensible. It was wicked and bruising, and she had no idea why he smiled so triumphantly. — Jennifer Ashley

But let me just say that talking dirty is so important in sex. And it's pretty easy. To wit: establish from the very beginning that you like this. And trust me, you want to do it early on. Because if you wait too long to introduce the concept, your Special Lady Friend will be a little thrown and might not take you seriously. Think of it as a hat. If you never, ever wear a hat and one day you try to rock a fedora with a feather, all of your friends will be like, "Dude - why are you wearing a fucking fedora with a fucking feather?" You'll feel insecure and never wear it again. Now imagine that scenario, but in bed with your hardened dick out and it's your girlfriend saying, "Dude - why the fuck are you talking like that?" Not good. — Olivia Munn