A Quote by Sarah Rees Brennan
Don't feel bad, Angela," Kami said. "You know guys, they only want one thing. Repartee. I can't count how many times men have admired my well-turned phrases.
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I only date college guys.” “You don’t know any college guys,” Kami pointed out. Angela’s gaze went to Kami, and she smiled. “Which leaves me with more time for napping.
Oh, Rusty, why did you let her in?" Angela said. "We could have just lain down on the floor until she went away. We could've had a nice floor nap." "Have you guys eaten?" Kami asked. "I'm starving." "Cooking is so much trouble," Rusty said mournfully. "You could order in," Kami suggested. "Delivery people are so annoying," Angela responded.
Down the well," Angela repeated, and had to go sit down and hold on to her letter opener. It was in the shape of a dagger. Angela said holding it soothed her; seeing Angela hold it did not soothe Kami.
I can't even count how many times I've been pulled over. I can't count how many times I've gone to a club and not got in, how many times a security guard has followed me round a shop. I can't count how many times that somebody has asked me if I'm a footballer because I've come out of a nice car.
Honestly, Jared, one thing at a time. Why are you in a well with me? This is a really bad rescue!" [...] "I called the police as I was running to the well. I'm sure they're coming." "Did they say they were coming?" Kami asked suspiciously. "Or did you shout, 'Kami's in the well!' before jumping in the well too, thus loosing your phone and making sure the police think it was some kids playing a dumb joke?" Jared paused. [...] "Alternate plan," Jared said. "Do you have a very intelligent collie who might communicate through a system of barks to your parents that little Kami is in the well?
Angela spared a glare for Kami, and then resumed her marathon glaring session at Jared. 'It's too weird. I'm going to call you Carl.' Jared scowled. 'I don't want you to call me Carl.' 'That's interesting, Carl,' said Angela, cheering up.
They were standing in a very large room. The floorboards stretched in a pale expanse at their feet. There was so much dust on the floor that it had a pearly sheen. ”Even you could not nap on this floor,” Kami told Angela. ”I don’t know, a dust mattress might be very comfortable,” said Angela. ”Also possibly orthopedic.
A leather jacket,” Kami said as he shrugged into it. “Aren’t you trying a little too hard to play into certain bad boy clichés?” “Nah”, said Jared. “You’re thinking of black leather. Black leather’s for bad boys. It’s all in the color. You wouldn’t think I was a bad boy if I was wearing a pink leather jacket.” “That’s true,” Kami said. “What I would think of you, I do not know. So what does brown leather mean, then?” “I’m going for manly,” Jared said. “Maybe a little rugged.” “It’s bits of dead cow; don’t ask it to perform miracles.
In the Bible it says they asked Jesus how many times you should forgive, and he said 70 times 7. Well, I want you all to know that I'm keeping a chart.
Boys. Listen up. We are going out for a girls’ night, where there will be dancing.” Kami did an illustrative shimmy. Angela looked resigned. Jared looked amused. “What was that?” “You’ve got to dance like nobody’s watching, Jared,” Kami informed him. “Have you considered that perhaps nobody’s watching because they’re too embarrassed for you?” “Fine,” said Kami, grinning at him. “Be a hater of dances. Be a hater of joy. I don’t care. You’re not invited!
In the Bible it says they asked Jesus how many times you should forgive, and he said seventy times seven. Well, I want you all to know that I'm keeping a chart.
I honestly believe, and I've said it many times, that the universal stems from the specific and I can't walk around with a performance and ask everyone how they feel about it, but if noble is an opinion that people have I'll accept that. I've been asked many times why I don't play bad guys, or heavies, and I would do it, absolutely, in a second, just haven't been offered any so... if anybody has a script out there tonight I'm more than willing.
You know, the best-laid plans of mice and men... I like playing bad guys, and I don't have a problem doing that. They're interesting characters, and there's as many different kinds of bad guys as there are good guys - they're rich, they're strong, they're powerful, and so that's fine with me.
You don't see many bad guys fight amongst themselves. Bad guys always know exactly who they are and what they want. Good guys are the ones who are a little confused about their identities.
I did a play once where a reviewer said, 'Martin Freeman's too nice to play a bad guy.' And I thought: 'Well, bad guys aren't always bad guys, you know?' When I see someone play the obvious villain, I know it's false.
Sorry, I said to myself, wondering how many times in my marriage I'd said that, how many times I'd meant it, how many times Claire had actually believed it, and, most important, how many times the utterance had any impact whatsoever on our dispute. What a lovely chart one could draw of this word Sorry.
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