In my everyday life, I'm pretty normal.
Immediately after the Olympics, I was pretty fatigued.
I can shoot a basket pretty well.
I'm a pretty skeptical person, and I'm a realistic person.
I pretty much grew up in public.
I can't grow a mustache. It's pretty sad if I attempt to.
I'm pretty proud of my film music in general.
It's been a pretty fun ride, to tell you the truth.
I have a pretty big fund-raising heart.
I'm actually a pretty clean-cut person.
I'm always pretty tense about everything when it comes to work.
...at Newsweek only girls with college degrees--and we were called "girls" then--were hired to sort and deliver the mail, humbly pushing our carts from door to door in our ladylike frocks and proper high-heeled shoes. If we could manage that, we grad...
She was a Victorian girl; a girl of the days when men were hard and top-hatted and masculine and ruthless and girls were gentle and meek and did a great deal of sewing and looked after the poor and laid their tender napes beneath a husband’s booted...
Margaux looks around the table; this is not working. All of a sudden she's thinking about a safe room, something she's only heard of but suddenly wants: water, oxygen, bulletproof door, dead bolts, a thousand books. Utterly quiet. Completely silent. ...
Does it bother you when you see Daddy kissing Josh?” he asked. Ty shook his head and made a funny face. “No, not really. I guess you really like him a lot.” “I do,” Rex agreed. “I love Josh.” “I love Josh too, and so I don’t care if...
Pumpkin: The way it is now, you're taking the same risk as when you rob a bank. You take more of a risk, banks are easier. You don't even need a gun in a federal bank. I mean, they're insured, why should they give a fuck? I heard of this one guy, wal...
Angela Hayes: I'm serious. He just pulled down his pants and yanked it out. You know, like, "Say hello to Mr. Happy." Playground Girl #1: Gross. Angela Hayes: It wasn't gross. It was kinda cool. Playground Girl #1: So did you do it with him? Angela H...
I broke up with this girl, and they put me with a psychiatrist who said, 'Why did you get so depressed, and do all those things you did?' I said, 'I wanted this girl and she left me.' And he said,'Well, we have to look into that.' And I said, 'There'...
That was seven years ago. The doctors told her father the memory would fade, like the big messy scar on her arm, but neither ever did.
We all wind up drawn to what we're afraid of, drawn to try to find a way to make ourselves safe from a thing by crawling inside of it, by loving it, by becoming it.
Remember that I’m still a monster. I can listen to you scream and cry and beg and I still won’t let you out.
