A Quote by Jasper Fforde

You speak baby gibberish?' asked Jack. 'Fluently. The adult-education center ran a course, and I have a lot of time on my hands.' 'So what did he say?' 'I don't know.' 'I thought you said you spoke gibberish?' 'I do. But your baby doesn't. I think he's speaking either pre-toddler nonsense, a form of infact burble or an obscure dialect of gobbledygook. In any event, I can't understand a word he's saying.' 'Oh.
I get this a lot: 'Oh, can you take a picture with my baby? Can you hold the baby?' I don't want to hold your baby! I'll hold my baby. I don't like holding someone else's baby. I'm serious! You never know what could happen. It's such an awkward position you're put in, and it's like, 'No, sorry.'
I love my family but my family - they're the type of people that never let you forget anything you ever did... I was in the first grade Christmas play - I'm playing Mary. Now, during the course of the play, I dropped the baby Jesus... They still talk about this. I go to my family reunion, and one of my cousins just had a baby. So I'm like, 'Oh, that's a cute little baby. Let me hold the baby...' And my aunt runs over, 'Don't you give her that baby! You know she dropped the baby Jesus!'
Charlotte, who had sagged back in her chair, her eyes half-closed, said, “Will, I have already been up all night copying down the relevant parts. Much of it was—” “Gibberish?” Jem suggested. “Pornographic?” said Will at the same time. “Could be both,” said Will. “Haven’t you ever heard of pornographic gibberish before?
How long have you been sitting in the darkness? You forget. You know you're getting hard to be with and you're crying every time you turn around. Oh my crazy baby, try to hold on tight. Oh my crazy baby, don't put out the light. And your hands are shaking something awful as your worries crawl around inside your clothes.
I just sit there and make up songs and sing to [my son] in gibberish. I'm very good at gibberish now.
I think of the chimp, the one with the talking hands. In the course of the experiment, that chimp had a baby. Imagine how her trainers must have thrilled when the mother, without prompting, began to sign her newborn. Baby, drink milk. Baby, play ball. And when the baby died, the mother stood over the body, her wrinkled hands moving with animal grace, forming again and again the words: Baby, come hug, Baby come hug, fluent now in the language of grief.
But maybe a man was nothing but a man, which is what Baby Suggs always said. They encouraged you to put some of your weight in their hands and soon as you felt how light and lovely that was, they studied your scars and tribulations, after which they did what he had done: ran her children out and tore up the house. [...] A man ain't nothing but a man,' said Baby Suggs. 'But a son? Well now, that's somebody.
Usually the song is totally done. I'll do absolutely everything, backing vocals - everything - but in gibberish. A lot of times its based on the mumblings that I sing. Even though I sing in gibberish, it kind of makes sense.
I am a big Brian Eno fan - the first few Brian Eno records are just absolute gibberish and he came up with a lot of lyrics by writing down loads and loads of random sentences and streams, and I find meaning in that music, even though he'd probably say it's absolute gibberish.
When white people wear baggy clothing and speak gibberish they're homeless, when black people wear baggy clothing and speak gibberish they're called rappers.
You have but to hold forth in cap and gown, and any gibberish becomes learning, all nonsense passes for sense.
Annie turned away, her eyes glittering. 'Here's what no one tells you,' she said. 'When you deliver a fetus, you get a death certificate, but not a birth certificate. And afterward, your milk comes in, and there's nothing you can do to stop it.' She looked up at me. 'You can't win. Either you have the baby and wear your pain on the outside, or you don't have the baby, and you keep that ache in you forever. I know I didn't do the wrong thing. But I don't feel like I did the right thing, either.
Even though people like to say Destroyer [albom] is gibberish and all that, I usually know exactly what I'm saying at every single moment.
I think for many of us - speaking for just a pocket of the country - we trusted Obama. So when you leave your baby with your mom to watch, you don't run home and check the nanny cam. But now we've left the baby with Gary Busey, so we're going to be a lot more on it.
Cry Baby wasn't necessarily a baby theme but I understand what they're saying. So like, Cry Baby is definitely a remaining character throughout all of my albums.
But I gotta say, oh, baby, oh baby, why is this so familiar? Just met her, already feel like I know the real her.
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