A Quote by Lee Child

My mother still calls me Jim and that is about it. Everyone else calls me Lee. My wife calls me whatever. — © Lee Child
My mother still calls me Jim and that is about it. Everyone else calls me Lee. My wife calls me whatever.
Father calls me William, sister calls me Will, Mother calls me Willie, but the fellows call me Bill!.
My daughter refuses to call me mother in public; my little grandson calls me Spongeslob Squarebottom, and nobody else ever calls me at all.
The greatest thing I could say about my son, and this is what you always worry about with your kids, that they kinda outgrow their Mom and Dad. But for him, when I see him, when he calls me Dad, and he can still hug me, he's still like my little boy. Even around his friends, he still calls me Dad.
Nathan Sutter," the teacher read. Here. My mother never calls me Nathan." Is it Nate?" She calls me Honeylips.
I'm one of 10 children, and all my brothers call me Jim. And all my sisters... well, they call me something even more affectionate. My mother calls me James, and I do what my mother tells me.
But Tammy Faye calls me, and Ron Jeremy calls me, Erik Estrada sends me a Christmas card every year.
Lots of people call me Dave, my mum calls me David, my wife calls me Dave, I don't really notice what people call me.
Could you just call me Pigeon?” he asked the teacher when she read his name. “Does your mother call you Pigeon?” “No.” “Then to me you are Paul.” ... “Nathan Sutter,” the teacher read. “My mother never calls me Nathan.” “Is it Nate?” “She calls me Honeylips.
Whenever I score for Manchester City, my mother calls me. As soon as the ball hits the back of the net, the phone rings. It doesn't matter if she's back home in Brazil or if she's in the stadium watching me. She calls me every time. So I run to the corner flag, and I put my hand to my ear, and I say, 'Alo Mae!'
I'll tell thee what it says; it calls me villain, a treacherous husband, a cruel father, a false brother; one lost to nature and her charities; or to say all in one short word, it calls me - Gamester.
I shun father and mother and wife and brother, when my genius calls me.
I'm just Jeffree. Everyone calls me he/she/whatever they want to call me; I'm an alien.
The University of Pennsylvania and my wonderful colleagues in the Department of Religious Studies have been routinely sent hate emails about me. Calls to fire me are numerous. Some have even come from within the university. The Penn Switchboard is flooded with calls, and the more conservative alums threaten to stop contributing.
When I grew up, there were no teletypewriters or video calls, so I primarily interpreted phone calls. At that time, where I lived, it wasn't embarrassing to have Deaf parents; it was cool to be able to speak a different language than everyone else.
The living can't quit living because the world has turned terrible and people they love and need are killed. They can't because they don't. The light that shines into darkness and never goes out calls them on into life. It calls them back again into the great room. It calls them into their bodies and into the world, into whatever the world will require. It calls them into work and pleasure, goodness and beauty, and the company of other loved ones.
She calls me Aquaman, which is kind of embarrassing, having your daughter call you the name of a canceled show. When she's being a little smarty-pants, she calls me Justin.
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