I said I fell down. Ah. The ground bloodied your nose, split yer lip, and punched ye in th' eye, all at once. I said I don't want to talk about it.
It's shitty I guess. They're my friends. But... everything I want to talk about I can't say to them. It feels so separate, like I've touched something that's taken the color out of me.
I don't know, I don't want to talk as much. (...) It's nicer to think dear, pretty thoughts and keep them in one's heart, like treasures. I don't like to have them laughed at or wondered over.
But seriously Holden, what is the island called now?” “Sentosa,” Holden said romantically and with a flourish of his unoccupied left hand. “Sentosa. Sounds romantic all right. So this is the progress you’re talking about?
How I love them. How good they are. They endure endless hours of me talking about the future. They keep me near and at the same time bid me farewell. That is what real love is.
But I believe I rather like superstitious people. They lend color to life. Wouldn't it be a rather drab world if everybody was wise and sensible . . . and good? What would we find to talk about?
You asked me just now for the truth---well, the truth about any girl is that once she’s talk about she’s done for; and the more she explains her case the worse it looks.
He’d only ever seen her twice, only talked to her once, but as he now gazed upon her, he realized that he’d missed her all day long.
A fierce battle was raging inside Harry's brain: But she's ditched Dean! I'm his best mate! If I talked to him first- What if I don't care?
Remember: If you go for a walk with a friend in England, don't say a single word for hours; if you go for a walk with your dog, talk to it all the time.
If there really had been a Mercutio, and if there really were a Paradise, Mercutio might be hanging out with teenage Vietnam draftee casualties now, talking about what it felt like to die for other people's vanity and foolishness.
I sleep through the next day. Each time I go to the bathroom, I try not to look in the mirror. Once, I catch my reflection: it looks like I’ve been punched in both eyes. I can’t talk about the day that follows that.
Evan no longer tells people I fight bad guys for a living. When asked, he tells his friends that his dad talks on the phone a lot and vacuums on occasion.
The only woman I’d want to go on a blind date with is Helen Keller. Maybe we could meet for coffee and I could listen while she doesn’t all the talking.
Talking won't change it. But sometimes it was what she wanted most, to tell someone; often, though, she just wanted to escape those horrid feelings, to escape herself, so there was no pain, no fear, no ugliness.
VICOMTE DE NANJAC. And you are younger and more C beautiful than ever. How do you manage it? MRS. CHEVELEY. By making it a rule only to talk to per- Y fectly charming people like yourself.
If life is a movie, most of us are watching the boring and talked over! Well, it's still not too late; drop it.. and start afresh with a new and exciting one. Remember, there's only one climax waiting to be experienced !
Most people whom you may view as wine experts are usually just good at one thing: winemakers are good at making wine, sommeliers at talking about it, and wine journalists at drinking it for free.
I had a dream about you last night. It wasn't until after you sold me the talking car, I realized you were the world’s best ventriloquist.
Girls can be so petty and jealous. I swear they're worse than guys sometimes. Except they're all quiet about it. They sugarcoat it or else they talk behind each other's backs. It's seriously twisted.
All the painters who appear in our museums are failures at painting; the only people ever talked about are failures; the world is divided into two categories of people: failures and those unknown.
