Eileen Cook Quotes

Besides, I thought it was kind of cool that you noticed I have good dexterity." he waved his fingers in front of my face. "I like the idea of you thinking about what my hands can do." He winked before turning to leave.
I flushed even redder. "I wasn't thinking about your hands," I called after him.
"Sure you weren't."
"I wasn't. I was trying to be nice."
Drew turned around to face me, leaning against the doorjamb. "Admit it. you're thinking about it now." He saluted and left.
I kicked the cart Darn it. Now I was thinking about it.

Life isn't supposed to be predictable.

Your dad does like you. In fact, he wants to protect you from me. He told me to not bother trying to get my claws into you and drag you down to my level.
Bother. Definitely bother. I like the idea of you getting your claws into me.

I still think it's a wonderful world.

I was going to Yale, for crying out loud. How could anyone think I was guilty of murder?

Life isn't a vintage film," Christopher said. When he saw my confused face he explained. "Things aren't always black-and-white.

As a matter of fact, there was a rule. If he wanted the Save the Crotch letter, then there was going to be an official vote.

She was still getting organized, trying to get the books she'd taken out to fit into the shelf under the stroller. She would shove a book in, and then something, a juice cup, a Binky, or one disturbing Barbie-doll head, would fall out the other side. She would shove that back in, and then something else would leak out the other side. Her stroller was like a poorly designed clown car.
I went over and helped. It was a good thing spatial relations were a strength of mine, because it required the geometry skills of Newton to get everything slotted into place.

If it isn't a choice,then it means you must be born a certain way,either gay or straight. If you are born that way,it must mean that god made you that way,which makes it unlikely that he would damn you to hell for it. After all,it would be technically his fault.

Why is being an unmarried woman something that we should be ashamed of, as if we've failed? Men don't feel this way. When they haven't married, they make it sound like they've gotten away with something. Their single status makes them even more appealing to the other sex.

Maybe sometimes you have to take a risk without worrying about the potential disaster.

Then it occurred to me: You either waited for someone else to do the right thing, or you stood up and did it yourself.

I always thought I was brave, but now I realize it it was only because there was never anything I really needed go be scared of.

To be fair, it's not just cycling - the term "sporty" isn't used to describe me. I don't run unless something is chasing me, and I have some kind of visual-spatial ball deficiency.

In the end, I think it comes down to being comfortable with who you are versus where you are.

There went any progress we'd made in being friends. It was going to take more than shared lunches and singing Christmas carols to get over the fact that I'd basically implied he was capable of murdering his own family.

If you don't seize the opportunity, how do you know what will happen? Sometimes you have to take the chance

Remember, ghosts don't care if you believe in them. They can still believe in you.

Shit. I was stuck. I suspected Dick would skip the hassle of having to ferry me back and forth to talk to someone and instead convince my mom to toss me into a mental ward where I could stay out of his hair and he'd have her all to himself. I imagined myself wearing institutional pajamas and having to eat everything with a spoon because no one would trust me with a fork or knife. Most likely my roommate would be some freakish, giant-size woman who didn't speak because she'd chewed off her own tongue.

It wasn't like I had a plan, but it wasn't a mistake.

My mom giggled and whacked Dick with a dish towel. I would have whacked him harder with the cutting board, but that was just my preference.

The entrance hall was designed to impress. The floor was a buttery cream-colored marble and the walls were paneled in dark wood. I'm not a lumberjack, so I had no idea what kind of wood it was, but it looked expensive.

I was generally in favor of segregation of the dead and the living.

Karma is a bitch, bitch.

Who we are is what comes out when shit goes bad. You can't tell anything about a person when things are great. If you want to really know someone, be there when everything goes to hell.

Fictional boyfriends were way more satisfying, in my experience. They almost always said the right thing, and when you got bored with them, you just put them back on the shelf.

Has is occurred to you that they're the same and you're the one who's different?

Having someone you can talk to is cool, but it's been my experience that it is a lot harder to find someone you can be quiet with.

I want to live someplace where things happen.

Some people like knowing what's going to happen.

When you're seventeen and the only friend you have in town is a stuffed animal that doesn't even belong to you, I think it's safe to say your life is officially in the shitter.

The mother was holding a baby, had a stroller with what looked like twin girls around three, and had a five-year-old boy who was running around the shelves with a finger shoved up his nose. I considered warning him that if he fell, he would poke his brain out, but it struck me that losing intelligence was not something he was worried about.

I could have gone my entire life without the image of my mom and Dick engaged in a sexual role-playing game. Especially in my clothes.

He looks at me for a long moment. "You're not the type of woman who gives up easily, are you?" I
can't tell if he admires this trait or sees it as a sign of deteriorating mental health.

I never worried about being a whale stalker before. I promise to leave them unmolested from now on.

We can still be good people, even if we don't say or do good things all the time.

I refused to believe that I'd gone from sane to full-blown delusional in one night. After some consideration, I determined I didn't have any other crazy thoughts. I didn't think I was Napoleon, or that my bagel was an alien, and I didn't have voices in my head warning me about terrorist plots. Near as I could tell, I was still on the right side of sane.

I am so sorry. I'm more sorry than I've ever been in my life. I don't mind being on restriction and having to clean the school. I can even live with the fact that everybody's mad at me, but I hate that I hurt you."
"Do you love this guy?"
"No! He means nothing. The kiss meant nothing."
Tristan looked me straight in the eyes, his stare pinning me to the ground. "That makes it worse, you know. I know you think that somehow it will make me feel better, but it doesn't. You threw away everything, and it wasn't even for someone that mattered.

they are ambassadors for this program and for their country.

I wasn't sure which was worse - to know you were a liar or to believe your own bullshit.

Nicole put on a frowny face and leaned forward for maximum cleavage exposure. Nathaniel looked. Of course he looked. She practically was shaking her breasts in his face. If he wasn't careful, a wayward nipple was going to take out one of his eyes. Okay, so it would have been impossible for him not to notice. However, he didn't have to keep noticing. It was like his eyes had homing beacons on her boobs.

Doesn't just about everybody disappoint their parents? They say all they want is for us to be happy, but what they really want is for us to be their do-over. Their second chance at life.

Why is it they say you always hurt the ones you love? Because you know exactly how to do it.

We reached to shake hands, and as soon as we touched, it felt like a current ran between the two of us. My heart sped up. Our eyes met. Nathaniel cleared his throat, and I realized he was trying to take his hand back and I was holding on to it with a death grip. I dropped his hand like it was a burning log. Oh God, I was turning into a stepbrother groper. He was nice to me, and the next thing he knew, I was hanging off him like a parasite. He was most likely grateful I hadn't thrown myself at his face for a tongue kiss.

If someone were crushed to death trying to get a frosty can of Diet Coke, it wouldn't be my fault. I'd tried to raise the issue.

You should step out of the box more often. See what the world has to offer."
"I stepped out of the box the night I broke the statue, and look where that got me."
"Exactly! You had a chance to get to know me as a result. Talk about lucky. Think what could happen if you tried again.

That's the thing with some people. They see us not just for who we are, but for who we could be. They hold us to a higher standard. They make us better because they believe we can be better, and that makes us believe it too.

You got me. As soon as I saw your prowess with the floor buffer, I was yours.

Do you like kids?
Only with barbecue sauce.

It's hard to miss something you never had.

When everyone was falling in and out of love with some random guy they sat next to in history, I never felt swoony or envious. It seemed a waste. Guys, or at least the ones I'd met, didn't seem worth the bother.

Ah. Morrigan, a voice said behind me. I jumped and spun around. Jesus. She must have been wearing super-quiet librarian shoes.

I'm joking," She said to the group. Ah, the joking defense. The tried and true excuse for bullies everywhere.

I couldn't decide if the fact that Nathaniel had watched me when I was sleeping was creepy or sort of exciting. God, I hoped I hadn't been lying there with my mouth open and drooling.

There was no doubt about it. I was falling for my stepbrother. Long term this would likely result in my ending up on a tacky daytime talk show with other people who had an unnatural love for their relatives.