Gemma Halliday Quotes

The woman had the IQ of a squash.

Which leads me to ask ... what exactly are you going to do when we get there?"
I thought about it. "Rip Josh's nuggets off and feed them to his hamster?

Connor Crane was currently the secret crush of half the female HHH population. And a couple of the males, too.

Into Studio City with my eyes closed, trying not to think about

The first thing I did was run. Okay, actually the first thing I did was scream, lose my balance, flail my arms in the air like some kind of uncoordinated bird, then slide down the side of the tree and land on my butt.
Then I ran.

To say I didn't have great luck in the guy department was like saying Ryan Seacrest didn't have great luck in the height department: total understatement.

Oh, boy. Why did I have a feeling I'd just aligned myself with Tweedle Diva and Tweedle Devious?

While it wasn't a total given that all members of the Color Guard also belonged to the Chastity Club, twirling flags was considered one of the most wholesome activities on campus, meaning the ratio of Chastity girls in Color Guard was something like that of Mormons in Utah.

I'll go," he said.
"And that's safer because?"
"I'm a guy."
"Right, and having a pair of dingle balls makes you invincible how?

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Our bodies are our temples. They should have a little more respect for themselves than that."
"You know, I could have sworn I saw you shoveling Cheetos into your temple last week."
"Oh, but I'm pretty sure those were nonfat," Kaylee piped up.
Oh brother.

Why is it that when someone says "trust me", I always feel less inclined to do so?

She went in the pool," she finished for me. "Ohmigod. She was killed while tweeting. It was Twittercide!

Exactly fourteen minutes behind schedule I walked into the law offices of Dewy, Cheatum and Howe.

Oy, your karma really sucks, bubbee. You musta been Hitler in a former life or something.

Men. They were nothing but trouble anyway. I mean, really, look where the men in my life had gotten me. Handcuffed, fingerprinted, jailed ... then handcuffed again! That's it, I washed my hands of the whole lot of them. In fact, I was actually looking forward to flying home, sitting in my cozy studio and spending the evening alone with Joanie, Chachi, and the Keebler elves. Now those were my kind of men.

Mental face palm. Suddenly I wasn't sure there was enough room on the campus for both me and his ego.

Mom perched on the edge of our sofa, her forehead etched with a line of concern I'd grown to know well. It was the same one she'd flashed at me when I pointed to the twisty slide, the same one she'd pulled out when I'd taken up Tae Kwon Do in third grade, and the same one that had frozen on her features all through driver's ed last spring. It was her SMother face.

Okay, so maybe he didn't sign it with a heart or an XOXO, but the man was going for coffee. Gotta love that.

I need to be casual but not too casual. Dressy but not too dressy. I need him to think I just threw on the first thing I found and that I'm not taking this too seriously or overthinking it or even that I was thinking about it at all. Because I'm not. I'm totally not thinking about him, and I don't want him to think I was thinking about him, but I don't want him to think that I'm not thinking about him, because clearly he thought about me enough to ask me out and it would be mean not to be thinking about him at all, so I need just the right amount of thinking, and I'm not sure if that means boots and a skirt or skinny jeans and ballet flats. Help!

Do you ever tell the truth?"
"Once. In fourth grade. It was overrated.

I stopped walking and stared down at my pink painted toenails. That was it. Of course. No, not my choice of polish, although it was exceptional,

I was panting by the time we reached the back of the casino. I felt perspiration run down my back and my sandals pinch my feet. They were adorable, but they were not made for chasing bad guys. Nevertheless, I kept going,

There are three things you never want to find in your boyfriend's locker: a sweaty jockstrap, a D minus on last week's history test, and an empty condom wrapper.
Lucky me, I'd hit the trifecta.

Caw! Caw, Hartley, caw!"
Chase narrowed his eyes again.
"Sam?"
I nodded. Then crossed to the window again and called down to Sam. "You can quit squawking. He caught me.

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Wow, you know a lot of swear words," Sam commented at one point. "And here I thought I had a dirty mouth."
"What can I say? Apparently candid porn starring my boyfriend brings out the best in me.

That craptastical, gutless, son-of-a-cactus-humping butt monkey!!

In the immortal words of Mr. Burns ... eeeeexcellent.

Men. One minute they have their tongues down your throat and the next they're forbidding you from meeting your own father and criticizing your fashion choices.

My theory: if the malls don't open until ten what's the point of being up earlier than that?

I didn't point out that Courtney and I were hardly BFFs. In Mom's world everyone under the age of eighteen was friends with everyone else, like we were all part of some secret society of minors.

All men should be required to have their marital status tattooed on their foreheads.