Top 188 Claire Quotes & Sayings - Page 3

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Last updated on December 11, 2024.
Another thing I don't want on my tombstone," Shane said. You have others?" Claire asked. He held up one finger. "I thought it wasn't loaded," Shane said. Second finger. "Hand me a match so I can check the gas tank." Third finger. "Killed over ice cream. Basically, any death that requires me to be stupid first.
I do a fair bit for children's charities. The big ones I support in Liverpool are Zoe's Place Baby Hospice, and Claire House Children's Hospice. I donate money and time but the time is what they value the most. If my inclusion at any event they're doing, helps them to raise more money, then of course I'll be there.
You think that because I want to do what’s right, because I want to make things better, I’m weak,” Claire said. “Or that I’m stupid. But I’m not. It takes a lot more strength to know how bad the world is and not want to be part of that, give in to it. And I do know, Kim. Believe me.
When I see a movie, the music often gets in the way for me. It's something that, say, for myself and Claire, we never, ever speak about. We never speak about describing emotion. I think it's about color and movement. And I think it's important to let the images be the melody, as well, a lot of the time - to create a kind of a backing for that, to let it sing.
Aquamarines grew with emeralds, Claire told me. But emeralds were fragile and always broke into smaller pieces, while aquamarines were stronger, grew in huge crystals without any trouble, so they weren't worth as much. It was the emerald that didn't break that was the really valuable thing.
Just in general as a person, not necessarily as a songwriter, being in cities wasn't the right fit. I couldn't escape and be in the woods in 10 minutes if I needed to. I like that in Eau Claire, I can walk to a bar or a coffee shop, and there's city-ish things, but I can also drive and in eight minutes be at my parents' land outside of town.
I am never taking a trip with either of you ever again.' Eve said. 'Ever.' Excellent' Shane said. 'Then next trip, we hit the strip bar.' I have a gun, Shane,' Eve sighed. What, you think i actually loaded yours?' Eve flipped him off, and Claire laughed.
Nothing?Micheal!You're 'playing'!.IN PUBLIC? 'That's new?' Claire whisperd to shhane 'He hasn't played anywhere but our living room since-Teeth-in-neck mime 'You know Oliver' 'Oh.' micheal's face was turning pink.'just put it back,OK?It's no big deal! Eve kissed him.
She was almost at the top of the steps, and Shane was right behind her, when she heard Myrnin say, in a quiet voice that was like the old Myrnin, the one she actually liked, "I'm sorry, Claire. I never meant - I'm sorry. Sometimes I don't know... I don't know what I am thinking. I wish... I wish things could be like they were before.
Life's an act of magic, too. Claire Hamill sings a line in one of her songs that really sums it up for me: 'If there's no magic, there's no meaning.' Without magic- or call it wonder, mystery, natural wisdom- nothing has any depth. It's all just surface. You know: what you see is what you get. I honestly believe there's more to everything than that, whether it's a Monet hanging in a gallery or some old vagrant sleeping in an alley.
Claire was struggling through last summer’s diary volume when Myrnin popped in through the portal, wearing a big floppy black hat and a kind of crazy/stylish pimp coat that covered him from neck to ankles, black leather gloves, and a black and silver walking stick with a dragon’s head on it. And, on his lapel was a button that said, If you can read this, thank a teacher.
All I ever wanted to do was get a great job on a TV show. When I read 'Modern Family' and started looking at what was available - I obviously couldn't play Gloria; I couldn't play Claire. When I saw the character of Cam, I was like, 'I have to have a shot at this,' because I thought it was a character that would be really fun to play.
I had to sit with my senses. This clear, beautiful intuition took over. I knew exactly how I felt, and I wasn't confused or clouded or compromised. I realized that none of my feelings had diminished, but I might have to lose someone I truly loved. I didn't want to run away from Claire, but I knew drug addiction was strong enough that I had to be willing, if need be, to let go of the person I'd just fallen in love with.
You’re kind of a psycho. I get that.” “I might be,” Monica agreed, and gave her a slow, strange smile. “You’re one smart little freak. Now run away, smart little freak, before I change my mind and stick you in one of these old suitcases for some architect to find a hundred years from now.” Claire blinked. “Archaeologist.” Monica’s eyes turned winter cold. “Oh, you’d better start running away now.
I don't matter here, Shane. I feel like I just don't matter. Stupid, right?" "No," he said. He sounded so gentle it broke her heart. "It's how most people feel most of the time, Claire. You've grown up being special, and this is how most people live their lives...on their own, unnoticed. And they get used to that feeling. It's just new for you.
I didn't say you shouldn't worry, do you think I don't worry? But no, you probably can't do anything about me.' 'Well, maybe no, Sassenach, and maybe so. But I've lived a long enough time now to think it maybe doesna matter so much-- so long as I can love you.' -Claire & Jamie Fraser
Claire, I-Look, my life is one long series of screw-ups and bad decisions, and I know that. I own that. But you...I just want you to be happy. And it cuts me when you're not." "I'm happy with you." She heard the smile in his voice this time. "So what do you really want? A storybook life in Vampireville, with your life on the line every day and a half?" "I'm considering it," she said. And she was.
Eve hugged her, hard. “It’s beautiful,” she said. “What happened to the old frosting?” Shane, sitting at the table, raised his hand. “Took one for the team.” “Jesus, you ate it? All of it?” “Nah.” He held up the bowl that was sitting in front of him. There was still about half a cup left. “Couldn’t finish it all.” Eve blinked and looked at Claire, who shrugged and said, “I always thought he was sweet.
Claire. Wake up.” She blinked and realized that her head was on Shane’s shoulder, and Michael was nowhere to be seen. Her first thought was, Oh my God, am I drooling? Her second was that she hadn’t realized she was so close to him, snuggled in. Her third was that although Michael’s part of the couch was empty, Shane hadn’t moved away. And he was watching her with warm, friendly eyes. Oh. Oh, wow, that was nice.
And then it was between Shane and Claire on who retreated first. "Uou go," he said. "Why?" Shane and Pete exchangedblooks. "Seriously?" Pete asked. "Yeah, she's like that," Shane said, and turned to her. "Because you're my girlfriend, and I'm not going unti; I know you're safe. How's that?
Bishop was all done with the witty converstaion. "Will you swear?" And Myrnin said, shockingly, "I will." And he proceeded to, a string of swearwords that made Claire blink. He ended with, "--frothy fool-born apple-john! Cheater of vandals and defiler of dead dogs!" and did another twirl and bow. He looked up with a red, red grin that was more like a leer. "Is that what you meant, my lord?
I think it's important that when people are struggling, that you not run away from them if you love them. Kristen, I mean, I look at the room tonight, you know, Kristen Stewart and Claire Danes, Jennifer Lawrence, all these young women that I worked with who basically were child actors like I was a child actor. And then I feel very protective of them, because even though I think I have managed to get through the process relatively sanely, I have my scars, and I hope to be in some ways a member of their family that's out there protecting them.
In this whole screwed-up town, you're the only thing that's always been right to me," he whispered. "I love you, Claire." She saw something that might have been just a flash of panic go across his expression, but then he steadied again. "I can't believe I'm saying this, but I do. I love you.
"I don't like this," he said. "I don't like knowing you can't forgive me, Claire. Please, I said I was sorry, what do you want me to do? Beg? I will. I'll get on my knees right here if you want."
But that quickly faded, and he frowned. "You're bleeding," he said. "What happened?" Claire sighed and held up her wrist to show him the bandage. "Man, you would be so embarrassed if I said it was something else." Michael looked blank. "I'm a girl, Michael, it could have been all natural, you know. Tampons?
In 'The Third Hotel,' my narrator, Claire, is wrestling with this sense of perpetual unfinishedness. She's trying to make sense of her husband's death, how someone's life can just stop and not continue, and of the lack of resolution in her own inner life.
Here," Myrnin said, his voice still gentle and low. "Amelie said you had to work. No one said you had to work alone." He picked up the next part and slotted it in, took the screwdriver from Claire's numbed fingers, and fastened it with a couple of deft, fast movements. "I'll be your hands." She wanted to cry, because it was so sweet, but it wouldn't do any good.
As a child growing up in refugee camps, life taught me that many things were impossible. My older sister, Claire, taught me otherwise when her strength and resilience made the impossible possible in the way she worked, behaved, and took control of our lives.
I left Google X. All the senior women have left Google X. I was the last to make it - I was, to be fair, the last there. Megan Smith left, Claire Hughes Johnson, vice presidents at Google left.
And when my body shall cease, my soul will still be yours, Claire? I swear by my hope of heaven, I will not be parted from you." The wind stirred the leaves of the chestnut trees nearby, and the scents of late summer rose up rich around us; pine and grass and strawberries, sun-warmed stone and cool water, and the sharp, musky smell of his body next to mine. "Nothing is lost, Sassenach; only changed." "That's the first law of thermodynamics," I said, wiping my nose. "No," he said. "That's faith.
Sometimes asking God for a reason for something is like asking Him why the sky is blue. There is a complex, scientific reason for it, Claire, but most children, including you, are content with knowing it is blue because it is. If we understood everything about everything, we would have no need for faith.
I've met with titans of Silicon Valley because they're investing in our national expansion. I've had lunch with Claire Danes because she sees DonorsChoose.org as the best way to help students in public schools. I would never, ever rub shoulders with such people if I had followed the typical career path in investment banking or whatever.
I think, about the distinction between fiction and nonfiction. Fiction is not really about anything: it is what it is. But nonfiction - and you see this particularly with something like the BBC Samuel Johnson Prize for Non-Fiction - nonfiction we define in relation to what it's about. So, Stalingrad by Antony Beevor. It's "about" Stalingrad. Or, here's a book by Claire Tomalin: it's "about" Charles Dickens.
An english baron wed to my daughter? I'll die first, I will." Johanna quit rubbing Claire's shoulder and stepped forward. "A very rich baron," she blurted out. The laird frowned at Johanna with what she thought was indignation. "Wealth is not an issue here," he muttered. "How rich?" They were married an hour later.
You're kidding," Shane said. "Do you think I want to visit Crazy McTeeth in his lair of insanity?" "No," Claire said, "but I'm pretty sure you won't like it if I go alone when I just kind of promised to be with you. So...?" "Right. I've been missing Nutty McFang anyway." "Stop making up names for him." "What about Count Crackula?" "Just stop.
Do these fuels result always and necessarily in one way from the decomposition of a pre-existing organic substance? Is it thus with the hydrocarbons so frequently observed in volcanic eruptions and emanations, and to which M. Ch. Sainte-Claire Deville has called attention in recent years? Finally, must one assign a parralel origin to carbonaceous matter and to hydrocarbons contained in certain meteorites, and which appear to have an origin foreign to our planet? These are questions on which the opinion of many distinguished geologists does not as yet appear to be fixed.
I meant it, Claire,' he said quietly. 'My life is yours. And it's yours to decide what we shall do, where we go next. To France, to Italy, even back to Scotland. My heart has been yours since first I saw ye, and you've held my soul and body between your two hands here, and kept them safe. We shall go as ye say.
Claire said. “I might be able to get him to stop.” “Who, crazy dude? Maybe. Or he might pull your head off,” Shane said. “I kind of worry.” She couldn’t help but smile. “Yeah?” “A little bit.” “That’s …nice.” He studied her, and returned the smile. “Yeah,” he said. “Kind of is, actually.
She was calm and quiet now with knowing what she had always known, what neither her parents nor Aunt Claire nor Frank nor anyone else had ever had to teach her: that if you wanted something to do something absolutely honest, something true, it always turned out to be a thing that had to be done alone.
There's no question about it. Beaumarie St. Claire and I, we created Irish DreamTime after GoldenEye hit. We made movies like Thomas Crown and The Matador. And in between my stints as James Bond, I'd go off and I'd do something like The Matador or Tailor of Panama, which was spy related, just so I could shake it up. It's a genre which really appeals to me.
Eve took me to teach me how to fence," Claire said. "Not so much how to fence as how to hold a sword and not drop it," Eve said. "And then I fought Oliver to a draw." Shane fluttered his hands. "Oh, and then we were all elected as ice princesses and asked to go to Disneyland!" "Laugh all you want. I'm going to look way better in full skirts than you," Eve said.
Okay, that really shouldn't have happened. And we’re not going to talk about that, right? Ever?” “Right,” she said. She felt like there was light dripping from her fingertips. Spilling out of her toes. She felt full of light, in fact, warm buttery sunlight. “Never happened.” He opened his mouth, then closed it, and closed his eyes. “Claire—” “I know.” “Lock the door,” he said.
Shane, in case we don’t … don’t come out of this, I wanted to say…” He glanced over at her, and she felt her whole body warm from it. She remembered that look. It made her feel naked inside and out, but not in a creepy kind of way. In a way that felt…. Free. “If what you say is true, and I guess it has to be, I think I know why we’re … together,” he said. “I think I’d fall for you no matter what, Claire. You’re kind of awesome.
Shane said, "Don't worry. I'll protect you." Claire hit him in the shoulder. "I don't need you to protect me." "Then why am I going first?" "So you can take the first punch while I throw the second?" "So I'm bait? Ouch. You've been in Morganville way too long, girl.
That's brain tissue. How can you-?" Claire shut her mouth, fast. "Never mind. I don't think I wanna know." "Truly, I think that's best. Please take it." He showed his teeth briefly in a very unsettling grin. "I'm giving you a piece of my mind." "I so wish you hadn't said that.
The way I see it is that I grew up with a good set of values, but it was never too strict. I was always encouraged to be a free-thinking individual. I spent the first five years out of high school trying to make it work in Eau Claire, then I had to leave because there wasn't enough going on in town.
I’m saying a prayer. Maybe you ought to, too. It’s going to take us a miracle to get through this.” Whether he was serious or not, Claire sent the prayer up toward heaven, and she thought the others did, too. So it seemed kind of miraculous when the doorbell rang. “At least they’re getting more polite when they try to kill us,” Shane said.
Blood of my Blood," he whispered, "and bone of my bone. You carry me within ye, Claire, and ye canna leave me now, no matter what happens, You are mine, always, if ye will it or no, if ye want me or nay. Mine, and I wilna let ye go.
I thought the force of my wanting must wake ye, surely. And then ye did come. . ." He stopped, looking at me with eyes gone soft and dark. "Christ, Claire, ye were so beautiful, there on the stair, wi' your hair down and the shadow of your body with the light behind ye…." He shook his head slowly. "I did think I should die, if I didna have ye," he said softly. "Just then.
Take the back door," she said. "Claire, you and your strang friend-" "Eve," they both said simultaneously, and Eve held out her fst for a bump. "Or, you could call me Eve the Great, Mistress of All She Surveys. Eve for short.
Are you armed?" Oliver asked her. She glanced down at her backpack and instantly, instinctively held back. "No." "Lie to me again and I'll put you out on the street and do this myself." Claire swallowed. "Uh, yeah." "With what?" "Silver-coated stakes, wooden stakes, a crossbow, about ten bolts . . . oh, and a squirt gun with some silver-nitrate solution." He smiled grimly at the dark windshield. "What, no grenade launchers?" "Would they work?" "I choose not to comment.
What’s her name? Claire, what’s her name? — © Rachel Caine
What’s her name? Claire, what’s her name?
He (Michael) was gone in a whisper of air, hardly making any sound at all, and Claire shivered and leaned against Shane’s solid, very human warmth. His arms went around her, and he touched his lips lightly to the back of her neck. “How can you smell this good after the kind of crappy day we’ve had?” “I sweat perfume. Like all girls.
But we are here, all of us. And we're here because I love you, more than the life that was mine. Because I believed you loved me the same way...will you tell me that's not true? No, he said after a moment, so softly I could barely hear him. His hand tightened harder on mine. No, I willna tell ye that. Not ever, Claire.
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.
That's it? That's your big goodbye?" Eve asked. Claire looked at Eve mystified. "I think I need guy CliffNotes." "Guys aren't deep enough to need CliffNotes." "What were you waiting for, flowery poetry?" Shane snorted. "I hugged. I'm done.
Want to play baseball?’” she asked. Shane’s eyes opened, and he stopped stroking her hair. “What?’” “First base,’” she said. “You’re already there.’” “I’m not running the bases.’” “Well, you could at least steal second.’” “Jeez, Claire. I used to distract myself with sports stats at times like these, but now you’ve gone and ruined it.
I read Claire Messud's 'The Emperor's Children,' I read Joseph O'Neill's 'Netherland' - but to me, they're not 9/11 novels. In 'The Emperor's Children,' 9/11 felt to me like a piece of the plot; the novel wasn't wrestling with what 9/11 meant. And 'Netherland' felt the same way. I liked both books a lot but I don't see them as 9/11 novels.
He started to touch the mechanism under the keyboard, then pulled his hand back with a snap. "Ah," he said. "Must deactivate the security....Turn around, please." "What?" "Turn around, Claire. It's a secure password!" "You have GOT to be kidding." "Why ever would I joke about that? Please turn.
Are you in the car that's almost caused three accidents on North Vance?" Hannah asked. "Because I'm following you with my lights flashing, and whoever's driving isn't pulling over." "Let him go," Claire said. "Trust me. You aren't going to get him to stop." "Oh, God. It's Myrnin, isn't it?" "Tell that police lady to stop chasing me," Myrnin said, annoyed, from the front seat. "Really, I'm not THAT bad at this.
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