You Re Not My Type Quotes & Sayings

My grandmother was not a highly educated woman, but she told me as a small child to quit feeding stray animals. You know why? Because they breed. You're facilitating the problem if you give an animal or a person ample food supply. They will reproduce, especially ones that don't think too much further than that. And so what you've got to do is you've got to curtail that type of behavior. They don't know any better. — Andre Bauer

To fall in love with him even though I was right here?"
"You're not really my type, Abe," I say.
"I'm too handsome?" He grins.
"Too evil. — Suzanne Young

Let's go," I said.
"Go where?"
"On Lori's date with Parker."
Now he looked at me over the nerdy spectacles he wore for reading.
"I wasn't aware it was a double date. And you're not my type. — Jennifer Echols

I've been down by the stream collecting berries. Would you care for some?"
I would, actually, but I don't want to relent too soon. I do walk over and look at them. I've never seen this type before. No, I have. But not in the arena. These aren't Rue's berries, although they resemble them. Nor do they match any I learned about in training. I lean down and scoop up a few, rolling them between my fingers.
My father's voice comes back to me. "Not these, Katniss. Never these. They're nightlock. You'll be dead before they reach your stomach."
Just then the cannon fires. I whip around, expecting Peeta to collapseto the ground, but he only raises his eyebrows. The hoovercraft appears a hundred metres or so away.What's left of Foxface's emaciated body is lifted into the air. — Suzanne Collins

You're not my type.
I've heard this before and I don't believe her. Hell, I'm everyone's type! Eventually. — K.A. Tucker

I stopped at a red light, turned my head, and allowed myself to enjoy the handsomeness that was Brent.
He noticed my staring and asked, "What?"
"As if you don't know. You're not the type of guy that a girl gets tired of looking at."
"Oh. Well in that case, you're welcome to look all you want," he said and gestured to himself. "You're allowed to touch, too." He wiggled his eyebrows suggestively.
I lowered my voice into its sexy-husky range. "I was hoping you'd say that." With my flirtiest look on my face, I rubbed my hand slowly up his arm and then pinched him firmly on the shoulder.
"Ow!" Brent rubbed his shoulder and grinned. "Not what I had in mind! — Lani Woodland

There was a sudden awkwardness between them, so thick it permeated the air around them. "Ahhh," Nick said as he understood why they weren't explaining it. As the old saying went, opposites attract. "You two are special friends."
Kyrian frowned. "How do you mean?"
Acheron passed a peeved look to Kyrian. "He thinks we're a couple."
Kyrian took a step away from Acheron. "No. No. No. Definitely not. Not that Acheron is not an attractive man, not that I've ever really noticed whether or not he's attractive, but male is not my type. — Sherrilyn Kenyon

Vance shook his head. "Philly, I love you, buddy. I do. But you're not my type."
"I'm not?"
"What? Are you insulted?"
Philip was pondering that when the front door jingled. — A. Lee Martinez

Current relationship status?" Her voice cut like an arctic chill blowing through the room.
"If you mean me, then you're not my type. If you mean my dad, he's single, but I don't think you're his type either," I said with a small smile. Mercy didn't find it amusing. A small blue vein in her forehead started throbbing like crazy ... "Actually, come to think of it, I don't think he has a type. I've never seen him with a woman.
Mercy, I hate to break it to you, but there's a very real possibility my dad is gay. — Jus Accardo

You're flying to Chicago to get drunk and have other women shake their boobs in your face."
"If it bothers you, I won't go," he said seriously.
"No," I kicked at the table leg. "It doesn't bother me. Maybe I'm just jealous."
"Jealous? You're not the jealous type."
"Maybe I want boobs shaken in my face. — L.D. Davis

I'm never really comfortable at parties. Maybe I'm just not the partying type.
... I think it's because I'm never sure what to do with myself.
I mean, there're drinks, but I don't like being drunk ... There's music, but I never really learned to dance to anything that involved an electric guitar. There are people to talk to ... but once you put all the stupid things I do aside, I'm really not that interesting. I like reading, staying home, going on walks with my dog ... Who wants to hear about that? Especially when I would have to scream it over music to which no one dances.
So I'm there but not drinking, listening to music but not dancing, and trying to have conversations with near-strangers about anything other than my own stupid life ... Leads to a lot of awkward pauses. And then I start wondering why I showed up in the first place.
Cold Days (The Dresden Files Book 14), pg. 33 — Jim Butcher

Don't even think about it, Travis. She's like my sister," America warned.
"Baby," Shepley said, "you just told him no. He's never gonna stop, now."
"You're not her type," she hedged.
Travis feigned offense. "I'm everyone's type!"
I peeked over at him and smiled.
"Ah! A smile. I'm not a rotten bastard after all. — Jamie McGuire

People don't tend to employ me. I'm the wrong personality type. Or rather, people do tend to employ me for a short time and then they sack me. A film broker once told me, as she terminated my contract, that I have a misleading sort of face.
"You're pretty", she complained. "Your features are symmetrical and there was an article in Grazia that says human beings are programmed to find those with symmetrical features more pleasing to they eye. So this isn't my fault, I was simply responding to a biological imperative. You've even teeth, so when you smile, you look ... sweet, I suppose. But you're not, are you?"
"I hope not," I said.
"You see, there you go again. You're a smart-arse and you've no ability to filter your thoughts
"
"And my thoughts are often abrasive."
"Exactly."
"I'll just get my brushes and sponges and leave."
"If you would. — Marian Keyes

Hazael rose from his knees. It had to take extraordinary effort, yet somehow he managed a version of his lazy smile when he said, "You know, I've always wanted to be a bath attendant. You should take me instead. I'm nicer than my sister."
Jael returned the lazy smile. "You're not my type."
"Well, you're not anybody's type," said Hazael. "No, wait. I take it back. My sword says she'd like to know you better."
"I'm afraid I must deny her the pleasure. I've been kissed by swords before, you see."
"I may have noticed. — Laini Taylor

Is she your Daughter of Man?' He nods toward me.
'She is a Daughter of Man. And she is traveling with me. But she's not my Daughter of Man.'
'Oh. So she's available?' ask Howler.
Raffe gives him an icy look.
'We're all single now, you know,' says Hawk.
'They can't punish us twice for the same crime' says Cyclone.
'And now that we know you're out of the race Commander, that makes me the next best-looking in line,' says Howler.
'Enough.' Raffe doesn't look amused.'You're not her type.'
The Watchers smile knowingly.
'How do you know?' I ask.
Raffe turns to me. 'Because angels aren't your type. You hate them, remember? — Susan Ee

I think you're asking too much. You know what I have? Toward this Pris android?"
"Empathy," he said.
"Something like that. Identification; there goes I. My god; maybe that's what'll happen. In the confusion you'll retire me, not her. And she can go back to Seattle and live my life. I never felt this way before. We are machines, stamped out like bottle caps. It's an illusion that I - I personally - really exist; I'm just representative of a type."
He could not help being amused; Rachael had become so mawkishly morose. "Ants don't feel like that," he said, "and they're physically identical."
"Ants. They don't feel period."
"Identical human twins. They don't - "
"But they identify with each other; I understand they have an empathic, special bond. — Philip K. Dick

When I can't fall asleep at night it's not because of work or school or Amber or Bekah. It's you. You're the one that drives me crazy."
I shake my head because it makes no sense. "Have you ever thought about what people will think? What they'll say when they see us together holding hands?"
"You never struck me as the type to give a shit what everyone else thinks." His jaw twitches for a moment before he lowers his voice and says, "I want to go everywhere with you. I want to show you off. I want to wear a cheap suit and be your escort for that ridiculous pageant. — Julie Murphy

You're not my type for long-term imprisonment. — Suzanne Brockmann

XTC is my favorite band; I'm a huge Neil Young fan, Jayhawks, all that type of stuff. I like Death Cab for Cutie, also Ryan Adams. I try to impress my children: 'Have you listened to such-and-such?' They're not impressed. — Nathaniel Philbrick

Will we have pets?" I bite back the question regarding kids. While this might be a fun fantasy, imagining being responsible for something like that is terrifying.
"Sure." Noah stays near the fire on one bent knee and occasionally pokes it to keep the dwindling flames alive. "I had a dog once."
"What type?"
"A mix of some sort. Part Lab, part something smaller than Lab. Its paws were too big for its body, so it skidded across the kitchen floor."
"Is that what you want?"
"If we're going to live alone on a mountain, we need a guard dog. A German shepherd. Something like that."
"Guard dog?" Not what I had in mind for the fantasy. "We need something cute and cuddly." I squish my fingers in the air as if I have the little puff ball in my hands. "It can sleep in our bed."
"No fucking way, Echo. I'm not sharing my bed with a dog. — Katie McGarry

You aren't my type, just the way that I am not yours. But that's why we are good for each other - we are so different, yet we're the same. You told me once that I bring out the worst in you. Well, you bring out the best in me. I know you feel it, too, Tessa. And yes, I didn't date, until you. You make me want to date, you make me want to be better. I want you to think I am worthy of you; I want you to want me the way I do you. I want to fight with you, even scream at each other until one of us admits we are wrong. I want to make you laugh, and listen to you ramble about classic novels. I just . . . I need you. I know I am cruel at times . . . well, all the time, but that's only because I don't know how else to be." His voice becomes a half whisper, his eyes wild. "This has been me for so long, I have never wanted to be any other way. Until now, until you." - Hardin — Anna Todd

I know for a fact that no matter where I go, the memory and the suffering of not being with you will cripple me. I will go to work, fire up my PC, only to check if you're online. I will hover the pointer to your name, it will pop your contact details
just the contact details, no photo, no one-liners, no sign of what we used to have
but I shall linger and stare at it for hours. I will attempt to start a chat, but will close it without even a word to type. I will try to divert my thoughts back to work. But will fail. I will always go back to you. One hour to another, it's 5 PM. I pack my things, unproductive for the day and smile. I'm doing that again tomorrow and the next. — CSTPimentel

Ahhh, you two are special friends." Nick
"How do you mean?" Kyrian
"He thinks we're a couple" Ash
"No No No Definitely not. Not that Acheron is not an attractive man, not that I've ever really noticed whether or not he's attractive, but male is not my type." Kyrian — Sherrilyn Kenyon

When I met you, my first thought was you were very pretty, great fuckin' eyes, but not my type. High-class which means high maintenance. Then you got pissed and that was it. Even if you hadn't been in that ditch, now you'd still be in my bed. So if you think this attitude is a turn off, baby you're wrong. — Kristen Ashley

I'm not blind, okay? On a purely physical level? Yeah, you're pretty sexy
and that suit you have to wear all the time doesn't hurt. But even if you didn't have that 'I kill you if I touch you' thing going on, you are definitely not my type. And more importantly, I'm not some perverted asshole," he says. "I take my job seriously. I get real shit done in this world, and I like to think people respect me for it. — Tahereh Mafi

Like you pointed out, I'm not your type. You're a nice lady, you know, once you've been fed and wined, but you're not my type either. We're just people in really fucked-up situations, and we need some help dealing with those situations," he said "What we're talking about here ... it's preservation. I need it as much as you do. — Kate Canterbary

She's not my type,' Carter says. 'So what is your type?' 'Tall, skinny, black hair, blue eyes, freckly nose. Blue tinsel wig and snowflakes optional.' 'Skinny?' I squeal. 'Definitely. Pretending to be shy, sensible and stand-offish when really you're mad about me.' 'You sure about that?' 'No, but I'm hoping. — Cathy Cassidy

You're just not the type that I go for after all. You're not graceful, you're violent, you don't know what sweet means... We'd probably be fighting non-stop, and I don't think it would work out. That's my straight answer. But! I don't hate you, by a long shot. — Naoshi Komi

Who is Aaron?"
"He and I own a tattoo place," Cooper said, wrapping me in his arms. "I shelled out the cash and he's the artist. Known him since middle school. Solid guy and he'll make sure you're safe."
I wasn't sure what my face did, but a smiling Cooper caressed my cheek.
"He's not scary. Yes, he's sporting a snake up his neck and a shaved head, but the guy's the real sensitive type. Probably writes poetry. — Bijou Hunter

But how did you know that it was Stacy?"
"There wasn't a green light flashing, that's for sure," he said. "Mostly, I felt I'd met a person I wanted to spend the rest of my life with. That I didn't need to look any further.""
"But how can you be sure?" I persisted.
"You can't. There's not just one person in the world who's your type. There's a whole group with the same likes and dislikes. But you want to spend your whole life looking for all of them? You just feel that everything's right. You're at peace with yourself. — Phyllis Reynolds Naylor

Exactly. We don't belong here. They're not staring out of disdain, Jordan; they're staring out of jealousy. We don't have to be a part of the horrible modelling industry. You don't have to watch what you eat and I don't have to worry about how many zits are on my face. We can be whoever the fuck we want, a type of liberty that a majority of people crave. — Cameron How To Be A Girl

I don't think Communism will work
in the long run
any better than Christianity has done, and I'm not the Crusader type. Capitalism or Communism? Perhaps God is a Capitalist. I want to be on the side most likely to win during my lifetime. Don't look shocked, John. You think I'm a cynic, but I just don't want to waste a lot of time. The side that wins will be able to build the better hospitals, and give more to cancer research
when all this atomic nonsense is abandoned. In the meantime I enjoy the game we're all playing. Enjoy. Only enjoy. I don't pretend to be an enthusiast for God or Marx. Beware of people who believe. They aren't reliable players. All the same one grows to like a good player on the other side of the board
it increases the fun. — Graham Greene

Fuck me sideways."
"Thanks, but you're just not my type."
"You're sure."
"I'm sure men are my type, but if I went for women, I'd do you. — J.D. Robb

Maybe they're getting some bow-chicka-pow-wow."
I looked at him. "Ew."
He flashed his teeth. "She's definitely not my type." His gaze dropped to my lips, and parts of me quivered in response to the heat in his gaze. "But now I totally have that on my mind."
I was breathless. "You're a dog."
"If you pet me, I'll - "
"Don't even finish that sentence," I said, fighting a grin. — Jennifer L. Armentrout

If you're too overcome to even finish your sentence then you must be sincere, you must really mean what you're not saying, you must ... I'm sorry. I cannot type. My fingers are crying. — Mark Forsyth

I'm very interested in the emotional honesty of things, which at times looks kind of ugly and at times looks scary and not polished, and so there were many times when I would audition for something and I would come from, for me, a very honest place, but it's completely not what they're looking for for that type of material. But I was always very steadfast in what I was interested in, and I felt like, I'm gonna tell the truth as best as I know it. And you eventually start to understand that the projects find you that meet up with that. It takes as long as it takes, and for me it took like 20 years, but I'm really glad. You know, the jobs always ultimately end up going to the person who's supposed to tell that story, and those weren't my stories to tell. — Brie Larson

If you're a certain type of actor, then eventually stepping into a director's shoes is a natural transition. I've always been the actor who's very focused on the narrative, where my character is in the story, and how I can benefit the story. I've always had a technical aspect of what the lens is, how the camera is going to move, how I can feed the information the director applies within that move. If you're that type of actor, narrative-based, technically proficient, the next step is actually not that far. — Russell Crowe

I'm not one of those actors who gets so taken by a role that I can't live my life. I'm the type of actor who goes to work, transforms into a character, takes you on a journey, and then comes back home to be Billy. When I'm in it, I'm in it, but I know how to get out of it. When you can't shut it off, you're a crazy person. I'm not crazy. — Billy Porter

Ryder: "Well, you're not the type I want to be my first either."
Grace:"What?"
Ryder: "You're the type I want to be my last. You know ... the settle down and marry sort. If you're my first, then I won't get to - I don't know - sow any wild oats or anything. — Linda Kage

That's none of your business," I say. "And, while I'm flattered by your interest, you're really not my type." The — Jeff Garvin

Vik moved to sit down by her arm. "You want to leave him for a real man?"
Shahara laughed. "You're not my type, Vik."
He tsked. "Yeah, it's hard for you fleshy types to admit that we're better in bed. 'Sa'ight. I understand." He sniffed. "Not like I don't have a crush on a lamp."
Syn smiled. "You know I have missed you."
-Vik, Shahara, & Syn — Sherrilyn Kenyon

I am not a total pervert. Although, to be honest, consider the night we've been having. First handcuffs, and
now this? Way more kinky than I expected."
"Please," M'cal said. "Do not talk."
"You like the strong and silent type, huh?"
"If you do not shut up, I will kill you with my voice."
"I love it when you talk dirty."
"Fine. Which would you prefer to lose first? Your soul or your testicles?"
"You know, you're just a bit obsessed with chopping off balls. Do you have issues with your masculinity? — Marjorie M. Liu

No helmets for the girls. No pads. No real gloves. And I'm not even going to go into the differences in what type of sticks they're allowed because that's just beyond messed up. No body checking. Game stopping every two seconds for some lame-ass penalty that wouldn't ever be called in the men's game. If you'll excuse my language, fuck that. Girls can beat the hell out of each other with a stick just as well as the boys can. If not better, in some cases. Bitches be vicious. — M.J. Duncan

Once upon a time, when I was a child reading fairy tales, I'd ached to have my own adventures. Not that I'd wanted to be some dippy heroine languishing in a tower, awaiting rescue. No, I'd wanted to be the knight, charging into battle against overwhelming odds, or the plucky country lass who gets taken on as an apprentice to a great wizard. As I got older, I'd found out the hard way that adventures are rarely anything like the books say. Half the time you are scared out of your mind, and the rest you're bored and your feet hurt. I was beginning to believe that maybe I wasn't the adventurous type. — Karen Chance

Right," Nico said again. "But it's cool. We're cool. I mean, I see now ... you're cute, but you're not my type, — Rick Riordan

Jael returned the lazy smile. "You're not my type."
"Well, you're not anybody's type," said Hazael. "No, wait. I take it back. My sword says she'd like to know you better. — Laini Taylor

It's hard to not get typed in Hollywood. They really want to type you. I'm trying to avoid that, because I want to do a lot of things. I know what I'm capable of. I forgive them because they don't know. They haven't seen me play Hamlet. They're not going to cast me as an English aristocrat. I'm going to have to prove that on my own. That's okay. That's what you have to fight for if you want to be an artist. — Sam Rockwell

I don't want to date her; I just want to be around her. She's ... different."
"Different how?" America asked, sounding irritated.
"She doesn't put up with my bullshit, it's refreshing. You said it yourself, Mare. I'm not her type. It's just not ... like that with us."
"You're closer to her type than you know," America said. — Jamie McGuire

Wait," Percy said. "So you mean - " "Right," Nico said again. "But it's cool. We're cool. I mean, I see now ... you're cute, but you're not my type." "I'm not your type ... Wait. So - — Rick Riordan

A couple of minutes later I was surprised when the figure that came back was ... not him. It was Arianna, holding something bulky draped over her arm.
She opened my door, and I got out. "Where's Lend? I'm supposed to wait for him."
"Nope." She smiled bigger than I'd ever seen her smile before, and suddenly I was a touch nervous. What if she was working with Nona and the faeries? "You were waiting for me. Now, strip."
"I - What?"
"You heard me. Strip. Take off your coat, shirt, and pants. You can leave your bra, for all the good it does you."
I noticed then that the bulky thing over her arm was a garment bag. Aha! "Ar, listen, I don't feel that way about you. You're not my type."
"Oh, shut up, take your clothes off, and close your eyes."
"Again, not something I was hoping to hear from you tonight."
Her smile was replaced by an annoyed scowl. "DO IT NOW. — Kiersten White

You always were selfish. Your one fault. Not willing to share anything, are you?" Suddenly, Damon's lips curved up in a singularly beautiful smile. But fortunately the lovely Elena is more generous. Didn't she tell you about our little liaisons? Why? The first time we met she almost gave herself to me on the spot."
"That's a lie!"
"Oh, no, dear brother, I never lie about anything important. Or do I mean unimportant? Anyway, your beauteous damsel nearly swooned into my arms. I think she likes men in black." As Stefan stared at him, trying to control his breathing, Damon added, almost gently, "You're wrong about her, you know, You think she's sweet and docile like Katherine. She isn't. She's not your type at all, my saintly brother. She has a spirit and a fire in her that you wouldn't know what to do with."
"And you would, I suppose."
Damon uncrossed his arms and slowly smiled again. "Oh, yes. — L.J.Smith

Sorry, I think I'll pass. You're not my type."
"I'm everybody's type, he says. You just have to realize it. — J.C. Reed

Even though you're not my type, gender wise, you're certainly my type, person-wise. — David Levithan

This seems like some type of romantic mood lighting." I turn to him. "And I can tell you right now that you're not getting sex tonight."
He laughs and puts his hand on my shoulder. "Tonight? So you'd consider it some other night? Okay. That works for me. — Allie Everhart

Look. I'm your expert consultant for a rather pathetic monetary wage, and under that agreement I have the option of selecting a technical assistant. He's mine."

She blew out a breath, paced to the window. Paced back. "Not just yours. It makes him mine, too. I don't know how to deal with a teenaged type person."

"Ah, well, I'd say you'd deal with him as you deal with everyone else. You order him around, and if he argues or doesn't jump quickly enough you freeze his blood with one of those vicious looks you're so good at and verbally abuse him. It always works so well for you."

"You think so?"

"There, see." He cupped her chin. "There it is now. I can actually feel my blood running cold. — J.D. Robb

We're in the same position as any scientist. All we have to go on is experiential evidence. And sooner or later we have to trust our own experience, because that's all we really have. Otherwise it's a vicious circle. If I fundamentally distrust my experience, then I must distrust even my capacity to distrust, since that is also an experience. So sooner or later I have no choice but to trust, trust my experience, trust that the universe is not fundamentally and persistently going to lie to me. Of course we can be mistaken, and sometimes experiences are misleading, but on balance we have no choice but to follow them. It's a type of phenomenological imperative. And especially mystical experiences - if anything, as you say, they are more real, not less real, than other experiences. I — Ken Wilber

You haven't lost your wits, have you?" Lopen asked, eyeing the bones. "Because if you have, I've got a cousin who makes this drink for people who've lost their wits, and it might make you better, sure." "If I'd lost my wits," Kaladin said, walking over to a pool of still water to wash off the carapace helm, "would I say that I had?" "I don't know," Lopen said, leaning back. "Maybe. Guess it doesn't matter if you're crazy or not." "You'd follow a crazy man into battle?" "Sure," Lopen said. "If you're crazy, you're a good type, and I like you. Not a killing-people-in-their-sleep type of crazy. — Brandon Sanderson

Charlie snorted. Sure. Insta-friends with one of the world's most famous rock stars. ZERO weirdness. Check. And you're not my type either, dude. — Anne Eliot

Well, friend, I don't know about your tastes, but I tend to like it very bloody," Myrnin said. He shifted position, dragging Claire along like a rag doll without any effort at all. "Have we been introduced?"
"Probably not. Why, are you asking me out, sweetheart?"
"You're not my type, darling. Is this one yours?"
"No," Frank said, and looked at Shane, just in a quick flicker. "Let's say she's a friend of the family. — Rachel Caine

My agent once said, 'You're not very driven.' And it's true. I'm not the type to ring up and go, 'Get me this part!' — Johnny Vegas

I want to be the guy in a movie who's, I don't know, out walking his rabbit on a leash (I don't have a rabbit) and knows exactly how to strike up a quirky, compelling conversation. Though maybe if you're walking a rabbit on a leash, you don't even have to speak; the rabbit does the work for you. Not that Zuzana seems like the rabbity type. Maybe if I were walking a fox on a leash. Or a hyena. Yeah, if I had a hyena, I'd probably never have to start a conversation again.
Except for, Sorry my hyena ate your leg. — Laini Taylor

You know they call corn-on-the-cob, "corn-on-the-cob", but that's how it comes out of the ground. They should just call it corn, and every other type of corn, corn-off-the-cob. It's not like if someone cut off my arm they would call it "Mitch", but then re-attached it, and call it "Mitch-all-together". — Mitch Hedberg

Myrnin: Have we been introduced?
Frank: Probably not. Why, you asking me out, sweetheart?
Myrnin: You're not my type, darling. — Rachel Caine