A Quote by Darynda Jones

You can’t have him, okay,” she said from behind the wire barrier. “Mm-hmm,” I whispered. “This is certainly a beautiful neighborhood.” “Yeah, I guess.” “I will scratch those eyes out of your ugly head.
Jane," I said quietly. She opened her eyes, she had been far away in prayer. "Yes, Mary? Forgive me, I was praying." "If you go on flirting with the king with those sickly little smiles, one of us Boleyns is going to scratch your eyes out.
She was ugly from the front, and I said ugly, ugly, ugly, ugly, ugly. Well, I could handle it behind her.
I hate to tell you, dragon, but that's an integral part of the whole usiness," he whispered. "If you're afraid to touch me then we're not going to get very far." She lifted her head to look at him. "I thought I could lie back and let you ravish me," she said with complete honesty. He shook his head, the smile hovering around his lips, his eyes intent. "This is a cooperative effort, my love. You have to do your part.
Alice?” She spun toward the door, her skirts whirling softly. “Yes?” she forced out. “Do you know what I am holding in my hand?” “No.” “Care to guess?” “A pitchfork?” she asked in a stilted attempt at levity, hoping to invoke his earlier, playful mood. “No, my dear,” he answered drily. “A key to your room.” “What?”she breathed, aghast. “I should hate to have to use it.” “You have a key to this room?” “Mm-hmm.” She took a step toward the door, panic rising up in her throat. “You’re bluffing!” “Do you wish me to prove it?
It's my uniform. Everyone in my company wears it." "It's hideous." Rose felt her hackles rise. The neon green uniform was hideous, but she didn't appreciate him pointing it out. She opened her mouth. "Yet despite it, you look lovely," he said. "Flattery will get you nowhere," she told him. "It's not flattery," he said coldly. "Flattery requires exaggeration. I'm merely stating a fact. You're a beautiful woman wearing an ugly sack of unnatural color.
I just had a son and had to take him to the paediatrician and he measured his head and apparently he's in a group in which only 14 per cent of the population have a bigger head than him. Then she said: "Do you mind if I measure your head?" I said: "Go ahead." And she was shocked, because less than one per cent of the world's population has a bigger head than mine. So I guess that means I'm pretty full of myself. Or that I have a huge brain.
Claire said. “I might be able to get him to stop.” “Who, crazy dude? Maybe. Or he might pull your head off,” Shane said. “I kind of worry.” She couldn’t help but smile. “Yeah?” “A little bit.” “That’s …nice.” He studied her, and returned the smile. “Yeah,” he said. “Kind of is, actually.
She was beautiful, but not like those girls in the magazines. She was beautiful, for the way she thought. She was beautiful, for the sparkle in her eyes when she talked about something she loved. She was beautiful, for her ability to make other people smile, even if she was sad. No, she wasn't beautiful for something as temporary as her looks. She was beautiful, deep down to her soul. She is beautiful.
My hat was pulled down and this girl said 'Are you really him?' I whispered 'Yeah, I'm really him.' She screamed, 'Mom! Dad! It's Heath Ledger!
Uma Thurman is one of the most beautiful women I've ever seen. She has those wicked eyes - it looks like there is such a brain behind those eyes.
But you're beautiful, and the beautiful should be given whatever they want." "Hey, what about the ugly ones?" "The ugly ones." She poked her tongue out. "It's their fault if their ugly. They're to be blamed, not pitied.
Sometimes,' he whispered at last, 'sometimes, I dream I am singing, and I wake from it with my throat aching.' He couldn't see her face, or the tears that prickled at the corners of her eyes. 'What do you sing?' she whispered back. She heard the shush of the linen pillow as he shook his head. 'No song I've ever heard, or know,' he said softly. 'But I know I'm singing it for you.
What are these guys?" He whispered "Canadians," Percy said. Frank leaned away from him. "Excuse me?" "Uh, no offense," Percy said. "That's what Annabeth called them when I fought them before. She said they live in the north, in Canada." "Yeah, well," Frank grumbled, "we're in Canada. I'm Canadian. But I've never seen those things before.
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.
I was talking to my friend and he said his girlfriend was mad at him. I said, "What happened?" He goes: "Well, I guess I, uh... I guess I said something, and, uh... and then she got her feelings hurt." That's a weird way to phrase it: "She got her feelings hurt. I said something, and then she..." Could you more remove yourself from responsibility? "She got her feelings hurt." It's like saying, "Yeah, I shot this guy in the face, and then I guess he got himself murdered. I don't know what happened. He leaned into it."
Matt?" "Yeah?" "You okay?" "Working on it." His voice sounded unusually tight. "I thought you said you did this a lot." "Yeah. I do. But apparently not with anyone I'm wildly attracted to." This caused certain reactions in her body that were best not experienced in mixed company. "It's just panties," she finally whispered. "And they're really great panties," Matt agreed. "But it's not the panties, Amy. It's you.
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