Top 464 Chick Flick Quotes & Sayings - Page 8

Women today are the biggest pigs today in history. They are just the dirtiest, nastiest slobs. I don't know how old your chick is, but the truth of the matter is they've become the aggressors. You know? They're upset if you're not balls deep in them by half way through the first date! They think you don't like them.

I don't go out with the plan, 'Let me find a celebrity to go date.' That's just not something you do. I'm just looking for a good person, someone who can be my friend, and someone I can have fun with. She doesn't have to be a celebrity; she can be a regular chick. She's got to be smart, though. I like smart women.

It was in Australia. I started in Cairns and went up to Cape Tribulation, Port Douglas and then went to Fraser Island. It was there that I thought was quite heavenly. I just decided to go back packing somewhere and that's where I picked. It was just before I got the role in Hot Chick. A friend wanted to me to go to Australia and I was thinking my career is just starting, it's not a good time to leave but she told me that my career would always be there and I was only going to get more immersed in it, and she was right. So it was a good time to go.

In my early 20s, I had this idea that I was going to front a band, like Robert Plant of Led Zeppelin. I didn't just want to be the chick singing ballads about somebody breaking my heart. Everyone in the business said, 'Why don't you do what Olivia Newton-Jonn and Linda Ronstadt are doing?' But I wanted to sing as a powerful female who wasn't afraid to speak her mind or be sexual.

Let's say that when I was a little baby, and all my bones soft and malleable, I was put in a small Episcopal cruciform box and so took my shape. Then, when I broke out of the box, the way a baby chick escapes an egg, is it strange that I had the shape of a cross? Have you ever noticed that chickens are roughly egg-shaped?

People want to call me racist for doing the Bon Qui Qui character, and I'm like, 'Look, Bon Qui Qui is a representation of a hood chick. That's it.' There are lots of hood chicks out there: some are black, some are Mexican, some are Salvadorian, and some are white.

People say 'chick lit,' and what they mean is 'crap.' And so even though you might sell 100,000 copies of a book, you're never going to win a prize. These are books that people don't just read, they devour them - they stay up into the early hours because they want to devour them.

Chick Hearn taught me how to play basketball, how to think about basketball. He taught me how to love basketball.

You are such a chick." I widened my eyes in mock surprise. "No way. Are you sure?" Sighing again, he rubbed at the tattoos on his wrist. "Mackenzie was right. You aren't slayer material." Before he had time to register my intentions, I threw a punch. My sore, swollen knuckles slammed into his cheekbone, thrusting his head to the side. Pain shot up my arm, but I bit my tongue to stop a moan. "You were saying?" He popped his jaw, rubbed at the reddening skin-and slowly grinned. "Okay, so now I understand why Cole likes you. You're worse than Kat.

Golf has been such a gift in my life, and I've enjoyed it so much and enjoyed lots of wonderful times on the golf course with my husband first, and then I got to play in all these celebrity tournaments. I'm often the only female celebrity in the tournament, hence the term 'Token Chick.' So it's been such a great, great gift in my life.

New Rule: You're never going to pick up women at a coffee shop pretending to be working on your laptop. You don't look like you're sensitive, you look like you're homeless.The last guy to pick up a chick with an Apple was Adam. And when you sit across from another dateless loser with a laptop, it still doesn't look like you're working--it looks like you're playing Battleship.

I stayed under the moon too long.I am silvered with lust.Dreams flick like minnows through my eyes.My voice is trees tossing in the wind.I loose myself like a flock of blackbirdsstorming into your face.My lightest touch leaves blue prints,bruises on your mind.Desire sandpapers your skinso thin I read the veins and arteriesmaps of routes I will traveltill I lodge in your spine.The night is our fur.We curl inside it licking.

Soon as I see her walk up in the club, I'm a flirt. Winking eyes at me, when I roll up on them dubs, I'm a flirt. Sometimes when I'm with my chick on the low, I'm a flirt. And when she's wit her man looking at me, damn right, I'm a flirt.

When you're really bummed out, the last thing you want to hear is up-tempo and positive. And it lets you know that you're not alone, that somebody has hurt before. It works the same way with chick songs as it does with political songs. When you hear somebody singing about these things, you know that you're not alone, that somebody else is suspicious of what's going on around us in the world. So you don't feel like you're crazy, and you feel like you might be able to make a difference.

I spent nine days in the Downtown Los Angeles City Jail. The judge gave me a suspended sentence and I went to work that night - wailed just like nothing happened. What strucked me funny though - I laughed real loud when several movie stars came up to the bandstand while we played a dance set and told me, when they heard about me getting caught with marijuana, they thought marijuana was a chick. Woo boy - that really fractured me!

I really loved it because it really informed his way of seeing my character and the story. If you look closely he always had this metaphor of an egg, of a little chick pecking her way out of a shell, and in one scene in the kitchen there are all these white plates on a wall and then in the middle there is a yellow plate so even that looks like an egg. And a lot of the furniture was almost sculpted in that way as well. It was really cool to see that.

Oh my god, Jenny McCarthy is the coolest chick. She's the kind of girl you can play volleyball with and she's diggin' it out in the dirt. She's the girl that's playing softball - not worrying about breaking a nail. She's out there breaking nails and diving at second. And then, she's going to out-drink you at the bar.

I love so many different types of music - hard rock, bebop, jazz fusion, R&B. And I've loved meeting and painting so many amazing artists like Lionel Richie, Ronnie Wood, Sia, Steven Tyler, Swizz Beatz, Taylor Swift, James Moody, The Fifth Dimension, Chick Corea, Herbie Hancock and Michael Jackson. It makes me smile thinking about each one of them.

If we were built, what were we built for? ... Why do we have this amazing collection of sinews, senses, and sensibilities? Were we really designed in order to recline on the couch, extending our wrists perpendicular to the floor so we can flick through the television's offerings? Were we really designed in order to shop some more so the economy can grow some more? Or were we designed to experience the great epiphanies that come from contact with each other and with the natural world?

Don't be taken in when they paternally pat you on the shoulder and say that there's no inequality worth speaking of and no more reason to fight because if you believe them they will be completely in charge in their marble homes and granite banks from which they rob the people of the world under the pretence of bringing them culture. Watch out, for as soon as it pleases them they'll send you out to protect their gold in wars whose weapons, rapidly developed by servile scientists, will become more and more deadly until they can with a flick of the finger tear a million of you to pieces.

Yes, Clay Matthews has a long, golden, Fabio-esque flowing mane that most women would chick-slap someone for. And yes, the shiny, beautiful, dark locks that cascade out of Troy Polamalu's helmet are the envy of volume-challenged women and bald men everywhere. But do we need to talk about it incessantly?

We're herded into schools and terrified into behaving. Taught how we're supposed to pretend to be, taught to parrot all kinds of nonsense at the flick of a switch, taught to keep our heads down and our elbows in and shut off our minds and shut off our sex. We learn we can't even piss when we have to. That's how we learn to be plastic and dumb.

I just like The Little Mermaid cartoon. Say what you want. I have a fish tank, it's a long story. I have a fascination with the ocean, and you put a hot chick in there, it just adds more to it! I liked The Little Mermaid. It's a cool movie. It's one of those I watch over and over again.

So...have you ever thought about dyeing your hair punk-rocker-chick black? As I'm sure you've heard, I have a thing for brunettes and always avoid blondes." "I've heard. And no." "Too bad. Because you're making me rethink my stance about doing my friends' exes." i snorted, not even trying to hide my...incredulity? Surely I wasn't amused. "Your making me rethink my stance on cold-blooded homicide

I remember on the 'Midnight Special' seeing a video with Meat Loaf. I think it was the 'Bat Out Of Hell' video. It was like this raging huge fat guy, and he's really sexual, and he's really sweaty, and it's really kind of sexy. Like, a fat guy can get the chick. I still am a big fan of 'Bat Out Of Hell.'

A big business man was telling Henry Ford about a coach driver of super-expertness with his whip. The driver was telling how he could flick a fly off his horse's ear with his whip-and, a fly alighting just then, he promptly did so. Next he spied a grasshopper beside the road, and he flicked it off with equal dexterity. A little further along the road the passenger noticed an insect on a bush, and nudged the driver to get him. Not on your life, replied the master of the whip. That there insect is a hornet sitting on his nest with an organization behind him. I leave him alone.

Raven-haired writer Emer Martin is giving a lunchtime reading from her fabulous new novel, Baby Zero. Emer Martin is a brilliant writer, very much the real deal. She tells me that every single Irish review of her new book has made passing reference to Cecelia Ahern. Weird, given that Emer is to chick-lit what Shane MacGowan is to sobriety.

I'm obsessed with beards. First of all, beards make you look like more of an animal. Second, I kind of like biting beards; it's a pastime of mine. And when I make out with a dude who has a beard - who are the only kinds of dudes I make out with - then my glitter gets stuck in their beards, and then no other chick will make out with them for at least three days.

I motivate what I see in young people because we employ about forty thousand young people in our various Chick-fil-A units. Some of them come to work because they need to work; others just work because they just like to work. There's nothing wrong with that.

If you write chick lit, and if you're a New Yorker, and if your book becomes the topic of pop-culture fascination, the paper might make dismissive and ignorant mention of your book. If you write romance, forget about it. You'll be lucky if they spell your name right on the bestseller list.

Beginning in the sixties, but getting strong during the seventies and eighties, everybody was sort of Miles Davis and Chick Corea and the jazz guys on the west coast and east coast in America, and then in Switzerland and lots of groups in England and elsewhere, like here in Brazil. We were all under a heavy influence of technological gadgets and changes that we used as elements to produce and create music.

Banking was conceived in iniquity and born in sin... Bankers own the Earth. Take it away from them but leave them the power to create money, and, with the flick of a pen, they will create enough money to buy it back again... Take this great power away from them and all the great fortunes like mine will disappear and they ought to disappear, for then this would be a better and happier world to live in... But, if you want to continue to be a slave of the bankers and pay the cost of your own slavery, then let the bankers continue to create money and control credit.

There's a switch inside every one of us that I guess grew there as a necessary part of survival. How can you drag a fish up out of the river for your supper if you feel the yank of the hook in your own cheek? I get that part. We can't feel for everyone and everything all the time. We'd die of fear or sorrow a hundred times a day. The thing is, it's gotten so we flick the switch off like it's nothing. And, more often than not, we forget to turn it back on.

I love books, by the way, way more than movies. Movies tell you what to think. A good book lets you choose a few thoughts for yourself. Movies show you the pink house. A good book tells you there's a pink house and lets you paint some of the finishing touches, maybe choose the roof style,park your own car out front. My imagination has always topped anything a movie could come up with. Case in point, those darned Harry Potter movies. That was so not what that part-Veela-chick, Fleur Delacour, looked like.

And don't think that by eating freedom fries you are being patriotic and helping the war effort. Use less gasoline, read a newspaper. You know what, how about we cool it with the freedom fries anyway you fat asses. We're the fattest country in the world. Have you ever walked around an American mall? It's nothing but chick fillets and Lane Bryant track suits busting at the seams.

CM has always stood for one thing: Chicago Made. Chick Magnet? That's preposterous. Girls don't like me. I was born and raised in Chicago. The city made me. Punk is just because I've always been a smart-mouthed, wise-ass punk. I still am. I was the guy, if a bunch of football players were messing with one of my friends, I'd walk over there and spit in their face.

Just watching a girl can give me the best reason to smile. Girls are something very special and you got to treat them that way. That's why I always say don't stare right at a chick. She'll begin to fidget, wondering if her hair's messed up or if her make-up is smeared. It's kind of like going to an art gallery to see beautiful paintings. If you look at a painting just the right way, you get the most out of it!

Every time a cool rock chick or actress seems to respect themselves as a strong woman, I'm like, 'Yeah!' And I love them, and they're my girls. And then they start to go downhill and people aren't paying attention anymore. So they start stripping their clothes off, because that's all they have left. I swear to everything I've ever known, I will never do that

I glean a few times a week, and it's all about the subject line. I look for the lyrical, "Billowy Red Scarf Girl" or the funny, "Hipster Chick Who Passed Gas," the unintentionally funny, "Looking for the Hot Girl in Pink Dress," ones that immediately suggest images, "Furry Arms Under a Yellow Umbrella," or the plain odd, "Seeking Girl Who Bit Me Twice..." I don't think I've ever abandoned one... the images usually arrive fully formed in my head as soon as I read the message, and I decide whether to draw it or not.

I always come from a female perspective and a strong music base, trying to keep a positive slant on things. It's important for you to do what you love and not let anyone bring you down, and I keep that message throughout. I like writing songs all females can relate to - songs about when you're a chick and you get your heart broken and you go shopping.

Straight up from this road Away from the fitted particles of frost Coating the hull of each chick pea, And the stiff archer bug making its way In the morning dark, toe hair by toe hair, Up the stem of the trillim, Straight up through the sky above this road right now, The galaxies of the Cygnus A cluster Are colliding with each other in a massive swarm Of interpenetrating and exploding catastrophes. I try to remember that.

Sam came around the side of the car and stopped dead when he saw me. “Oh my God, what is THAT?” I used my thumb and middle finger to flick the multicolored pom-pom on top of my head. “In my language, we call it a HAT. It keeps my ears warm.” “Oh my God,” Sam said again, and closed the distance between us. He cupped my face in his hands and studied me. “It’s horribly cute.” He kissed me, looked at the hat, and then he kissed me again. I vowed never to lose the pom-pom hat.

I've always been outwardly personal. I've always been that chick. A lot of my friends be like, 'TMI, Tiffany, TMI.' I just feel like it's important to share your experience on this Earth, because you never know who's watching, who might be going through the same thing, who might feel devastated.

Zerts' are what I call desserts. 'Trée-trées' are entrées. I call sandwiches 'sammies,' 'sandoozles,' or 'Adam Sandlers.' Air conditioners are 'cool blasterz' with a 'z' - I don't know where that came from. I call cakes 'big ol' cookies.' I call noodles 'long-ass rice.' Fried chicken is 'fry-fry chicky-chick.' Chicken parm is 'chicky-chicky-parm-parm.' Chicken cacciatore? 'Chicky-cacc.' I call eggs 'pre-birds,' or 'future birds.' Root beer is 'super water.' Tortillas are 'bean blankets.' And I call forks 'food rakes.'