A Quote by Jennifer Aniston

I don't get sent anything strange like underwear. I get sent cookies. — © Jennifer Aniston
I don't get sent anything strange like underwear. I get sent cookies.
I've never been sent a lock of hair or anything like that, but I've gotten underwear with my face on it. That was weird.
I wasn't sent here to find angels! I wasn't sent here to dream of them. I wasn't sent here to hear them sing! I was sent here to be alive. To breathe and sweat and thirst and sometimes cry.
God did everything necessary to get Herod's attention. He sent messengers from the East and a message from the Torah. He sent wonders from the sky and words from Scripture. He sent the testimony of the heavens and the teaching of the prophets. But Herod refused to listen. He chose his puny dynasty over Christ. He died a miserable old man.
I receive underwear - some clean, some not. No joke. My assistant who helps me with my fan mail constantly threatens to quit because of what we get sent.
What if people really did that - sent their love through the mail to get rid of it? What would it be that they sent? A box of chocolates with centers like the yolks of turkey eggs. A mud doll with hollow eye sockets. A heap of roses slightly more fragrant than rotten. A package wrapped in bloody newspaper that nobody would want to open.
For a decade, I was a stay-at-home mom. I sent my husband to his law office, sat on PTA boards and baked cookies - great cookies. All of a sudden, I had no husband, no job, few prospects, and two small children who had grown accustomed to eating.
I overanalyze things way too much, to the point where it affects my life. Like, when I'm talking to a boy, I'll overanalyze a text message he sent. And I have to think to myself, 'Just chill out. Some guy sent me a text message. That's all. Don't read something into it that's not there. Just be glad he sent you a text message!'
I like cookies, any cookie you put in front of me - animal cookies, sugar cookies, anything crunchy.
I think I've done two shoots in my underwear ever. They both happened to be for Calvin Klein. But that tag - 'underwear model' - I just can't get rid of it. And it's such a bizarre, specific thing - underwear. It's like I never modelled clothes.
I was on holiday in Ibiza, having a lovely time, writing a book and looking at the stars every night and generally not having a care in the world. Then I got sent the script for 'Death in Paradise.' I couldn't get back to England in time for the auditions, so my girlfriend filmed me on her camera, and I sent it off via email.
Swaggy P is heaven-sent. I'm like a prophet of swag, so the name was heaven-sent.
Empty?! You took all the cookies!" "They were crying to get out of the jar... Cookies get claustrophobia too, you know!
Let's say that you commit a crime, you get caught, you might get sent to prison. It's going to be bad. But if you get caught spying, you're literally hanged the next morning.
'Royal Beatings' was my first story, and it was published in 1977. But I sent all my early stories to 'The New Yorker' in the 1950s, and then I stopped sending for a long time and sent only to magazines in Canada. 'The New Yorker' sent me nice notes, though - penciled, informal messages. They never signed them. They weren't terribly encouraging.
When you face difficult times, know that challenges are not sent to destroy you. They're sent to promote, increase and strengthen you.
We seldom realize fully that we are sent to fulfill God-given tasks. We act as if we were simply dropped down in creation and have to decide to entertain ourselves until we die. But we were sent into the world by God, just as Jesus was. Once we start living our lives with that conviction, we will soon know what we were sent to do.
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