Winger Andrew Smith Quotes & Sayings

He was a little guy, a former winger too, and he was a transplant from England who could talk the most civilized-sounding shit you would ever hear, and he could cuss you out with the most vicious obscenities and — Andrew Smith

Truth is relative. Truth is what you can make the voter believe is the truth. If you're smart enough, truth is what you make the voter think it is. That's why I'm a Democrat. I can make the Democratic voters think whatever I want them to. — James Carville

Growing up, I took so many cues from books. They taught me most of what I knew about what people did, about how to behave. They were my teachers and my advisers. — Neil Gaiman

after midnight
Just words.
No more pictures. No charts or plays or poems.
Now it's just about the words. — Andrew Smith

I firmly believe that the most important feature of spending the people's money is complete transparency. — Marsha Blackburn

I'm completely obsessed with Andrew Smith's 'Winger.' A great, hilarious, and moving story. — John Corey Whaley

I am so wrapped up in the hurt I have received that I do not notice the hurt I inflict. — John Ortberg

Life can be much broader. You can embrace it, change it, improve it, make your mark upon it. — Steve Jobs

I said a silent prayer. Actually, silent is probably the only type of prayer a guy should attempt when his head's in a toilet. — Andrew Smith

Several people have told me that my inability to suffer fools gladly is one of my main weaknesses. — Edsger Dijkstra

Jynx, as usual, had chosen something from the Sarcasm Collection and was wearing a shirt that read, "I Respect Your Right to be an Idiot, Now Stop Talking. — Skye Knizley

You know, nothing ever goes back exactly the way it was. Things just expand and contract. Like the universe, like breathing. But you'll never fill your lungs up with the same air twice. Sometimes, it would be cool if you could pause and rewind and do over. But I think anyone would get tired of that after one or two times. — Andrew Smith

Just as I opened the door from the boys' floor, I stumbled onto Mr. Farrow and that freakishly unhot witch from downstairs, Mrs. Singer.
Together.
Standing at the landing on the tenantless girls' floor. They were kissing, and it wasn't one of those innocent oh-hello-you-frosty-and-cadaverous-old-hag-from-downstairs-so-nice-to-see-you-this-afternoon pecks on the cheek, either. — Andrew Smith