A Quote by Becca Fitzpatrick
She looked up, her face pink as a Christmas ham. “You ever try chasing down a car?” she gasped. “I’ll one-up you. I gave Scott my hot dog and asked if he’d go to Summer Solstice with me.” “What does the hot dog have to do with anything?” “I said he’d be a wiener if he didn’t go with me.” Vee wheezed laughter. “I’d have run harder had I known I’d get to see you call him a wiener.
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I love women, but I feel like you can't trust some of them. Some of them are liars, you know? Like I was in the park and I met this girl, she was cute and she had a dog. And I went up to her, we started talking. She told me her dog's name. Then I said, 'Does he bite?' She said, 'No.' And I said, 'Oh yeah? Then how does he eat?' Liar.
Coraline opened the box of chocolates. The dog looked at them longingly. "Would you like one?" she asked the little dog. "Yes, please," whispered the dog. "Only not toffee ones. They make me drool." "I thought chocolates weren't very good for dogs," she said, remembering something Miss Forcible had once told her. "Maybe where you come from," whispered the little dog. "Here, it's all we eat.
She wasn't looking her best; her hair was coming down, for she had shed hairpins as she'd run, and her face lacked powder and lipstick. She looked hot and tired and surprisingly happy. He thought that he had never seen anyone quite as beautiful, so absolutely necessary to his happiness. It wasn't the first time he had fallen in love, but he knew that this was the last.
She still had her bad days, no question, when the black dog of depression sniffed her out and settled its crushing weight on her chest and breathed its pungent dog breath in her face. On those days she called in sick to the IT shop where, most days, she untangled tangled networks for a song. On those days she pulled down the shades and ran dark for twelve or twenty-four or seventy-two hours, however long it took for the black dog to go on home to its dark master.
I like women, but you can't always trust them. Some of them are big liars, like this one woman I met who had a dog. I asked her her dog's name and then I asked, 'Does he bite?' and she said, 'No.' And I said, 'So how does he eat?' Liar!
Daphne," he said with controlled gentleness, "what is wrong?" She sat down opposite him and placed a hand on his cheek. "I'm so insensitive," she whispered. "I should have known. I should never have said anything." "Should have known what?" he ground out. Her hand fell away. "That you can't—that you couldn't—" "Can't what?" She looked down at her lap, where her hands were attempting to wring each other to shreds. "Please don't make me say it," she said. 'This," Simon muttered, "has got to be why men avoid marriage.
I grew up in Austria, and for me real comfort food is Wiener Schnitzel. Wiener Schnitzel and mashed potatoes because it reminds me of my youth... It reminds me when I grow up and it feels very comforting.
Turn right up ahead," he directed. "It'll take us directly to my cottage." She did as he asked. "Does your cottage have a name?" "My Cottage." "I might have known," she muttered. He smirked. Quite a feat, in her opinion, since he looked sick as a dog. "I'm not kidding," he said. Sure enough, in another minute they pulled up in front of an elegant country house, complete with a small, unobtrusive sign in front reading, MY COTTAGE
He lifed his head and looked down at her seriously. "Could you," he began, then he had to clear his throat. "Could you learn to be fond of me?" he asked. "With enough time?" She looked at him in surprise. It was the first time in all their acquaintance that she'd heard him sound the least bit hesitant. "I don't need to learn anything," she said, before she thought better of it.
I got scouted for modeling, and it was really scary - I was walking my dog wearing heels for the first time ever because I had a party to go to the day after, and I wanted to practice, and this black car kind of started following me, so I, being dramatic, picked up the dog and started to run.
I can’t help blushing and looking down at my feet. “It was nothing.” “It was literally everything to me.” I look up, putting on my best version of Eight’s teasing smile. “In that case, I think I deserve more than a gross hot dog.” Eight clasps his hands across his chest like I’ve wounded him. “You’re right! I’m a fool to think my life could be traded for a hot dog.” He grabs my hand and gets down on one knee, pressing his forehead to the back of my hand. “My savior, what can I ever do to repay you?
She looked at him then, but his image blurred behind tears that swelled into her eyes. She must leave. She must leave this room, because she wanted to hit him, as she had sworn she never would do. She wanted to cause him pain for taking a place in her heart that she wouldn't have given him if she'd known the truth. "You lied to me," she said. She turned and ran from the room.
When I see Kate Moss out and about, I think she looks more beautiful than when her hairdresser and make-up artist try and make her look like something else. And I remember when Madonna first asked Versace to book me to shoot a campaign with her, she came to see me wearing hardly any make-up, and she looked incredible.
She asked me what was wrong, and I told her I had to end it. She was surprised, and asked my why I thought so. I told her it wasn't a thought, more a feeling, like I couldn't breathe and knew I had to get some air. It was a survival instinct, I told her. She said it was time for dinner. Then she sat me down and told me not to worry. She said moments like this were like waking up in the middle of the night: You're scared, your'e disoriented, and you're completely convinced you're right. But then you stay awake a little longer and you realize things aren't as fearful as they seem.
"Baby, you know?" my mother once said to me. "I think you're the greatest woman I've ever met - and I'm not including my mother or Mrs. Eleanor Roosevelt in that." She said, "You are very intelligent and you're very kind, and those two qualities do not often go together." Then she went across the street and got in her car, and I went the other way down to the streetcar. I thought, "Suppose she's right. She's intelligent - and she's too mean to lie." You see, a parent has the chance - and maybe the responsibility - to liberate her child. And my mom had liberated me when I was 17.
Seriously", Macey snapped. "go. Kiss. A baby" "can you believe her?" Preston asked, coking his head towards macey." everytime she sees me, all she does is call me baby and talk about kissing." Macey looked like she wanted to kill him. But I kind of wanted to laugh.
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