Sophie Kinsella Quotes

Plus, you know, the buffet really is excellent. And my appetite has greatly recovered after a few cups of coffee. In fact, I've decided to switch from the 5:2 diet to the "get the most from your buffet because it's costing you a fortune" diet.

And then Jo met Professor Bhaer, so we had to watch that bit. And then Beth died. So I guess the March sisters were on their own jagged graph too.

Something tells me organizing a protest against your husband's client has got to be even worse than selling his Tiffany clocks.

No human on God's earth is a nobody.

I've never felt so bereft and panicky. What do I do without my phone? How do I function? My hand keeps automatically reaching for my phone in its usual place in my pocket. Every instinct in me wants to text someone, 'OMG, I've lost my phone! ' but how can do that without a bloody phone?

These academic guys have to feel important. They give papers and present TV programs to show they're useful and valuable. But you do useful, valuable work every day. You don't need to prove anything. How many people have you treated? Hundreds. You've reduced their pain. You've made hundreds of people happier. Has Antony Tavish made anyone happier? I'm sure there's something wrong

I know this is our honeymoon. But just sometimes, I wish Luke was a girl.

The parents are in charge of all the stuff like technology in the house and time on screens and hours on social media, but then their computer goes wrong and they're like a baby, going, "What happened to my document?" "I can't get Facebook." "How do I load a picture? Double-click what? What does that mean?" And we have to sort it out for them.

I'm an impulse buyer. I don't really go out with a list.

I wonder if Luke would take a hit of tomato ketchup for me. I might ask him later. Just casually.

If you look good, you feel good

Jeez Louise. I know why rich people are so thin: it's from trekking around their humongous houses the whole time.

Sometimes you don't need a goal in life, you don't need to know the big picture. you just need to know what you're going to do next!

See how I stopped mid-sentence? I can do it too. When I don't necessarily want to reveal the exact thought I'm having.

My friend lost his mother when we were at college. I spent a lot of nights talking with him. Lot of nights." He pauses. "I know what it's like. You don't just get over it. And it doesn't make any difference if you're supposedly a "grown-up". And it never goes away,

I know what it's like to squander all your hours and all your tears and all your heart on something which turns out to be nothing. Don't waste your time.

My real name is Madeleine Wickham, under which I write dramas with an edge of humour. As Sophie Kinsella it's fast, all-out comedies, such as the 'Shopaholic' series.

If it's in the bin, it's public property.

Don't think about it. Don't think about what could have been. It's too unbearable.

Visiting any shop for the first time is exciting. There's always that buzz as you push open the door; that hope; that belief - that this is going to be the shop of all shops, which will bring you everything you ever wanted, at magically low prices.

What is love? No one knows what love is, exactly. No one can define it. No one can prove it.

But nothing changes if nothing changes. I saw that slogan on a T-shirt the other day, and it really resonated. I've changed. My horizons have shifted, And if I want to keep growing and changing, I need to challenge myself.

And then suddenly I hear his footsteps approaching. He's behind me, thirty feet away, at a guess.
No wonder I couldn't see him.
I should turn. Right now I should turn. This is the moment that it would be natural to swivel round
and greet him. Call out a hello; wave my phone in the air.
But my feet are rooted to the spot. I can't bring myself to move. Because as soon as I do, it will be
time to be polite and matter-of-fact and back to normal. And I can't bear that. I want to stay here. In
the place where we can say anything to each other. In the magic spell.
Sam pauses, right behind me. There's an unbearable fragile beat as I wait for him to shatter the quiet. But it's as though he feels the same way. He says nothing. All I can hear is the gentle sound
of his breathing. Slowly, his arms wrap round me from behind. I close my eyes and lean back
against his chest, feeling unreal.

If I ran the country there'd be courses in things that you'd actually use your whole life. Like: How to do eyeliner. How to fill in a tax return. What to do when your loo blocks and your dad isn't answering the phone and you're about to have a party.

My new rule for life. Don't go into spooky dark woods on your own."
"You're not on your own.

I love all my characters. I love their weaknesses and flaws. I feel like they're all my best friends and I adore being with them.

A cold dismay creeps over me. Oh okay, maybe I did once kind of pretend I had a stalker. Which I shouldn't have done. But I mean, just because you invent one tiny stalker - that doesn't make you a complete nut case, does it?

All this time, I wasn't hungry for success, I was hungry.

You're perfect,' he says almost fiercely. 'You don't need to change one hair. One freckle. One little toe.
And if it's me that's made you feel you should do this … then there's something wrong with me.

Which is just grief, I guess. I've decided that grief is like a newborn baby. It knocks you for six. It takes over your brain with its incessant cry. It stops you sleeping or eating or functioning, and everyone says, "Hang in there, it gets easier." What they don't say is, "Two years on, you'll think it's got easier, but then, out of the blue, you'll hear a certain tune in the supermarket and start sobbing.

When he was EIGHT. Anne, do you know what teenage parties are like? What if they knife each other and have sex on the trampoline?

His skin is so hard and rough, it's like shaking a piece of tree bark.

There's no such thing as ruining your life. Life's a pretty resilient thing, it turns out.

Why didn't I buy a new phone earlier? Why don't I always walk around with a spare phone? It should be the law, like having a spare tire.

I know friends should be supportive of each other's life decisions and all that.

For years now I've kind of operated under an informal shopping cycle. A bit like a farmer's crop rotation system. Except, instead of wheat, maize, barley, and fallow, mine pretty much goes clothes, makeup shoes, and clothes (I don't bother with fallow). Shopping is actually very similar to farming a field. You can't keep buying the same thing, you have to have a bit of variety. Otherwise you get bored and stop enjoying yourself.

Life would be a lot easier if conversations were rewindable and erasable, like videos. Or if you could instruct people to disregard what you just said, like in a courtroom.

But I'm sick of this bloody jagged graph. You know, two steps up, one step down. It's so painful. It's so slow. It's like this endless game of snakes and ladders." And Mum just looked at me as if she wanted to laugh or maybe cry, and said, "But Audrey, that's what life is. We're all on a jagged graph. I know I am. Up a bit, down a bit. That's life.

I'm blushing at my own stupid, nonsensical, meaningless thought process, which, by the way, nobody knows about except me.

As regards the DF 4000 Deluxe X-ray body scanner we were discussing, please be assured, I have never known a case of a husband using it to track down shopping parcels hidden about his wife's person.

I'm never going to believe a Poirot mystery again. Never. All those witnesses going, "Yes, I remember it was 3:06 p.m. exactly, because I glanced at the clock as I reached for the sugar tongs, and Lady Favisham was quite clearly sitting on the right-hand side of the fireplace."
Bollocks. They have no idea where Lady Favisham was, they just don't want to admit it in front of Poirot. I'm amazed he gets anywhere.

You've gone back to the way you used to be before. The way you promised you'd never be again.

Wow. So you didn't expect it?"
"No. Not at all."
"Were you like, 'Fuck!

Life takes us on different paths ... It's not up to us to evaluate or judge them, merely respect and embrace them.
(Lara Lington - to Sadie Lancaster)

Commuting in London is basically warfare. It's a constant campaign of claiming territory; inching forward; never relaxing for a moment. Because if you do, someone will step past you. Or step on you.

Hi."
"Hi." I shrug, as though to say "Whatever."
In my peripheral vision I can see Magnus exhale. He looks a teeny bit nervous.
"So."
"So." I can play this game too.
"Poppy."
"Poppy. I mean, Magnus." I scowl. He caught me out.

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Where there is shouting, there is no true knowledge.

What would Poirot do? Poirot wouldn't flap around in a panic. He'd stay calm and use his little grey cells and recall some tiny, vital detail which would be the clue to everything.

It won't be forever. You'll be in the dark for as long as it takes and then you'll come out.

OK, I have to make sure we're on the same page here. Because I might mean one thing and she might mean, intending to start a Cordon Bleu course when I get back to England.

Our whole family thrives under pressure. It's like our family motto or something.
Apart from my brother Peter, of course. He had a nervous break down. But the rest of us.

I want him."
"I'm sorry?" I peer at her, flicking my mobile open out of habit.
"The man I just met. I felt it, right here. The sizzle." She presses her concave stomach. "I want to dance with him.

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I can't move. I'm paralyzed in the middle of the street, like the donkey in that Aesop's fable who couldn't choose between the bales of hay. They'll find me in years to come, still frozen to the spot, clutching my credit card.

Spoiled?" Mum cuts her off with a laugh. "Nonsense! There's nothing wrong with Minnie, is there, my precious? She knows her own mind!" She strokes Minnie's hair fondly, then looks up again. "Becky, love, you were exactly the same at her age. Exactly the same.

I once tried to give him a friendly little "drugs chat". He politely corrected me on every single fact, then said he'd noticed I drank above the recommended guidelines of Red Bull and did I think I might have an addiction? That was the last time I tried to act like the older sister.

In honor of my goddaughter's christening, I will perform 'The Real Slim Shady,' by Eminem," he says confidently.

I can't cook. I don't have the right brain for it, somehow. I can't walk into a room and tidy it up. I get distracted. I pick up one thing and I start looking at it. And my cooking is truly heinous.

You remember that Christmas when they got ill?" Mum says presently. "The year they were about two and three? Remember? And got poo all over their Christmas stockings, and it was everywhere, and we said, "It has to get easier than this"?"
"I remember."
"We were cleaning it all up and we kept saying to each other, "When they get older, it'll get easier." Remember?"
"I do." Dad looks fondly at her.
" Well bring back the poo." Mum begins to laugh, a bit hysterically. "I would do anything for a bit of poo right now."
"I dream of poo," says Dad firmly, and Mum laughs even more, till she's wiping tears from her eyes.

The trouble is, depression doesn't come with handy symptoms like spots and a temperature, so you don't realize it at first. You keep saying "I'm fine" to people when you're not fine. You think you SHOULD be fine. You keep saying to yourself: "Why aren't I fine?

You don't always have to know who you are. Sometimes, it's enough just to know what to do next.

It really is the year 2007. Which means I must be ...
Oh my God. I'm twenty-eight.
I'm old.

We don't choose our flaws, unfortunately.

And the truth is, the country is very cool. It's absolutely the new town.

When the dog bites, when the bee stings ... I simply remember I have a boyfriend and suddenly things don't seem quite so completely shit.

You'd never get tired of a pony. It's a classic. It's, like, the Chanel jacket of toys.

The more you engage with the outside world, the more you'll be able to turn down the volume on those worries. You'll see that they're unfounded. You'll see that the world is a very busy and varied place and most people have the attention span of a gnat. They've already forgotten what happened. They don't think about it. There will have been five more sensations since your incident.

I've taken over the guest room wardrobe too- plus, I've arranged all my shoes on the bookshelves on the landing. (I put the books in boxes. No one ever read them. anyway.)

But there's no point. He's busy with his life - and I'm busy with mine.

I had no plans to be a writer. My teenaged bid for stardom was to be a pop star ... which, ahem, didn't exactly work out.

Life's too short for minimalism.

I think what I've realized is, life is all about climbing up, slipping down, and picking yourself up again. And it doesn't matter if you slip down. As long as you're kind of heading more or less upwards. That's all you can hope for. More or less upwards.

I am not a label snob and have learned that the thrill of shopping can be just as great, if not more so, when you find a bargain.

You looked like you wanted to jump his bones right there!"
"Jump his bones?" Sadie frowns. "What do you mean?"
... "It's like a pajama party. Except you take off your pajamas."
"Oh that." Her face clicks with recognition. You call it 'jumping his bones'?"
"Sometimes." I shrug.
"What an odd phrase. We used to call it sex."
"Oh." I say, discomfited. "Well we do too-"
"Or barney-mugging," she adds.

I'm very lucky. I have a really supportive husband in Henry, and there's my mum, too. I couldn't have a career and manage the kids' routines and household thing single-handedly. I'd just go crazy.

It's easy to discount family. It's easy to take them for granted. But your family is your history. Your family is part of who you are.

To have someone who never makes a mistake, never finds her personal life in disarray, never worries about work-life balance? I think that would be unreal. What I'm writing is real.

Sometimes, when I can't get to sleep, I imagine all the rules I'd invent if I ever got to be in charge of the world.

But you can't stay with people because of guilt. Or because they can drive a speedboat.

I can never resist telling people good news. I mean, why not brighten someone else's life too?

I hesitate a moment. Wearing his dressing gown seems a bit cutesy. A bit Let me put on your great big manly shirt and allow the sleeves to flap endearingly around my fingers. But I have no choice.

We both gaze down at my swollen tummy for a while. I still can't quite get my head round the fact that there's a baby inside my body. Which has got to come out ... somehow.
OK, let's not go there. There's still time for them to invent something.

Some people lose their nerve for riding or skiing or driving; well, I've lost my nerve for life.

And we spend the rest of the evening getting very pissed and eating ice cream, as we always do when something good or bad happens to either one of us.

These corners are getting a bit bulky." Mum looks consideringly at the catalog. "Maybe we should fold down if we're not interested in the page.

So I'm biding my time, like a surfer waiting for a wave. I'm pretty good at surfing, as it happens, and I know the wave will come. When the moment is right, I'll get Demeter's attention. She'll look at my stuff, everything will click, and I'll start riding my life. Not paddling, paddling, paddling, like I am right now.

Should I tolerate it as normal male behaviour, like when he gets a cold and starts Googling nose cancer symptoms discharge nostrils?

I had no idea you could be a specialist at awkward conversations

But even bitterness fades away eventually. We both have to believE that. Don't we?

I hurl the glass teapot to the ground.
we both stare at it, stunned.
"it was supposed to break," I explain after a pause, " and that was going to signify that yes, I would throw something away . If I knew it wasn't right for me.

Mummy always told me, you should never let a man see your feelings or the contents of your handbag.

It hasn't snowed like this for years. Real, proper snow. Dickensian snow,

Incredibly fond.

As I stare at it,I can feel little invisible strings,silently tugging me toward it. I have to touch it. I have to wear it. It's the most beautiful thing I've ever seen.

Mind your own Brazilian! The words fly out of my mouth before I can stop them. Oops.
OK. The trick when you've said something embarrassing by mistake is to pretend nothing happened.

You sound like Darth Vader," I say bluntly. Elinor doesn't even flinch. "So be it," she says, and sips her water. That is totally a Darth Vader thing to say. Next she'll be ordering the destruction of a thousand innocent Jedi younglings.

There are some things I don't understand about Jess and never will. No wedding dress. No flowers. No photo album. No champagne. The only thing she got out of her wedding was a husband. (I mean, obviously the husband is the main point when you get married. Absolutely. That goes without saying. But still, not even a new pair of shoes?)

L: You want me just to be your ... friend?
E: You want the truth? I think you're my guardian angel.
L: What?
E: Do you know what it's like to have someone crash into your life with no warning? When you landed in my office, I was like, Who the fuck is this? But you shook me up. You brought me back to life at a time when I was in limbo. You were just what I needed ...
You're just what I need.
L: Well I need you too. So we're even.
E: No, you don't need me. You're doing just fine.
L: Ok. Maybe I don't need you. But ... I want you.

I can't get over this. Dad isn't Sam's dad? Dad is a friend? How was I supposed to know that? People shouldn't be allowed to sign themselves as Dad unless they are your dad. It should be the law.

If you spend most of your time turned away from people, you get to know what they're doing without having to see it.

Everyone knows the first rule of business is "Look good during confrontations." Or if it isn't, it should be.