Hawaiian Shirt Quotes

A man goes to a foreign country and kills somebody who's not aggressing against him; in a Hawaiian shirt he's a criminal, in a green costume he's a hero who gets a parade and a pension. So that, as a culture, we remain in a state of moral insanity. To point out these contradictions to people in society is to be labeled insane. This is how insane society remains, that anybody who points out logical opposites in the most essential human topic of ethics, is considered to be insane. ~ Stefan Molyneux

I'm a Hawaiian shirt guy. I've made that life decision. ~ Chris O'Dowd

Gustavo Tiberius speaking."

"It's so weird you do that, man," Casey said, sounding amused. "Every time I call."

"It's polite," Gus said. "Just because you kids these days don't have proper phone etiquette."

"Oh boy, there's the Grumpy Gus I know. You miss me?"

Gus was well aware the others could hear the conversation loud and clear. He was also aware he had a reputation to maintain. "Hadn't really thought about it."

"Really."

"Yes."

"Gus."

"Casey."

"I miss you."

"I miss you too," Gus mumbled into the phone, blushing fiercely.

"Yeah? How much?"

Gus was in hell. "A lot," he said truthfully. "There have been allegations made against my person of pining and moping. False allegations, mind you, but allegations nonetheless."

"I know what you mean," Casey said. "The guys were saying the same thing about me."

Gus smiled. "How embarrassing for you."
"Completely. You have no idea."
"They're going to get you packed up this week?"
"Ah, yeah. Sure. Something like that."
"Casey."
"Yes, Gustavo."
"You're being cagey."
"I have no idea what you mean. Hey, that's a nice Hawaiian shirt you've got on. Pink? I don't think I've seen you in that color before."

Gus shrugged. "Pastor Tommy had a shitload of them. I think I could wear one every day for the rest of the year and not re ~ T.J. Klune

Wearing a Hawaiian shirt, you don't ever come across as offensive. Nobody sees you as a threat. You see someone in a Hawaiian shirt, and you are like 'this guy is ready to party.' ~ Gabriel Iglesias

The marketing people are always talking about something called 'consumers'. I have this image of a fat little man in baggy Bermuda shorts, a Hawaiian shirt, and a straw hat with beer-can openers dangling from it, clutching fistfuls of dollars. ~ Robert James Waller

And maybe Bob-with-the-Hawaiian-shirt was right. Maybe it was cool being on a planet on the far side of the known galaxy. And maybe it was even cooler escaping and getting home again. But the coolest thing of all was having my best friend back. ~ Mark Haddon

Hollywood must be the only place on earth where you can be fired by a man wearing a Hawaiian shirt and a baseball cap. ~ Steve Martin

After the third call from my mother, he comes in in a Hawaiian shirt. He is, frankly, bright orange. A shade of personal orange that startles even my mother. A shade that doesn't say health, it says Dulux. ~ Rebecca Sparrow

Being a Scotsman, I wear a skirt quite a lot, but we're allowed. I have an incredibly loud Hawaiian shirt that's pink and a particularly disgusting turquoise, but I just wear it on days when I'm in a strange mood. ~ Sean Biggerstaff

And what's with the shirt? You think you're in Fiji?"
"It's like being on vactaion. all of the time. ~ Gerard Way

Serving others also requires a talent for observation," Hawke murmurs in my ear. "She'll approach the table to her right next, ask the woman in the red shirt if she'd like her bill." My mom does exactly that, her lips moving as she gathers the dirty dishes. The customer nods and pulls her wallet out of her no-name vinyl purse. "How did you know she'd do that?" I ask. "I look for threats. You look for fashions." He splays his fingers over me, his grip thrillingly secure. "Your mom looks for needs her customers might have." "Everyone sees what they want to see," I conclude. "The average person sees very little." Hawke pushes me toward the counter. "Very few of us pay attention. ~ Cynthia Sax

I kiss him deeply, desperately, as I paw at his clothes, and he tolerates it for a moment. Just a moment. Long enough for me to unbutton his shirt. In a blink, his hand snatches ahold of my wrists, pinning them together, pinning them down to the bed above my head. Pulling back some, he looks me in the eyes.
He says nothing.
He just stares.
Studying me again.
It's almost a minute, as I count the torturous seconds in my head. It should been awkward, but it isn't. It's erotic. His gaze penetrates me, effectively fucking my soul. ~ J.M. Darhower

THE ELFIN KNIGHT

Are you going to Scarborough Fair?
Parsley, sage, rosemary, and thyme
Remember me to one who lives there
She must be a true love of mine

Tell her she'll sleep in a goose-feather bed
Parsley, sage, rosemary, and thyme
Tell her I sear she'll have nothing to dread
She must be a true love of mine

Tell her tomorrow her answer make known
Parsley, sage, rosemary, and thyme
What e'er she may say I'll not leave her alone
She must be a true love of mine

Her answer came in a week and a day
Parsley, sage, rosemary, and thyme
I'm sorry good sir, I must answer thee nay
I'll not be a true love of thine

From the sting of my curse she can never be free
Parsley, sage, rosemary, and thyme
Unless she unravels my riddlings three
She will be a true love of mine

Tell her to make me a magical shirt
Parsley, sage, rosemary, and thyme
Without any seam or needlework
Else she'll be a true love of mine

Tell her to find me an acre of land
Parsley, sage, rosemary, and thyme
Between the salt water and the sea strand
Else she'll be a true love of mine

Tell her to plow it with just a goat's horn
Parsley, sage, rosemary, and thyme
And sow it all over with one grain of corn
Else she'll be a true love of mine
And her daughters forever possessions of mine ~ Nancy Werlin

Girls get a lot of mixed messages - they are told, 'Girl Power!' and what does that mean? It means you wear a T-shirt that says, 'Girl Power!' but you call each other bitches. You make fun of a girl for being a virgin and you make fun of a girl for having sex. There's no right place to be. ~ Tina Fey

wasn't Lily; it was Craig Simmons, the landscaper. Holding a sweat-stained baseball cap in his hand, the fortyish-something sandy-haired man stood on the front porch, still wearing his work boots, faded jeans and stained T-shirt. "Hello, Ms. Boatman, I just got back from lunch, noticed your car in the back drive and wondered if you had a chance to look through your house. I wanted to make sure everything is all right." "Yes, we went through the house, and nothing seems to be missing." That wasn't entirely true. She had only been to the library and kitchen, but according to Walt, Adam and Bill left empty ~ Bobbi Ann Johnson Holmes

Once when I was golfing in Georgia, I hooked the ball into the swamp. I went in after it and found an alligator wearing a shirt with a picture of a little golfer on it. ~ Buddy Hackett

Ah, Father! That's words and only words! Forgive! If he'd not been run over, he'd have come home today drunk and his only shirt dirty and in rags and he'd have fallen asleep like a log, and I should have been sousing and rinsing till daybreak, washing his rags and the children's and then drying them by the window and as soon as it was daylight I should have been darning them. What's the use of talking forgiveness! I have forgiven as it is! ~ Fyodor Dostoyevsky

Knitwear can play a vital part in layering. The simplicity of a lightweight cardigan makes it one of the best ways to layer outfits. I love granddad cardis for winter, worn over a vintage lace shirt, waistcoat and full skirt with slouchy boots. ~ Twiggy

The woman took the faded shirt and muddy overalls and laid them away from remembrance. It was a weapon against her strength and if it turned out of no significance, still it was a hope that she might fall to their level some day. ~ Zora Neale Hurston

What's this? You're wearing the shirt of the band you're going to see? Don't be that guy. ~ Jeremy Piven

If you leave here, War can find you again. What are you going to do if that happens? (Tory)
Leave bloodstains on his best shirt. (Acheron) ~ Sherrilyn Kenyon

It is common knowledge that a well-bred man should as far as possible have no face. That is to say, not so much be completely without one, but rather, should have a face and yet at the same time appear faceless. It should not stand out, just as a shirt made by a good tailor does not stand out. Needless to say, the face of a well-bred man should be exactly like that of other (well-bred) men and of course in no circumstances whatsoever should it alter. Naturally houses, trees, streets, sky and everything else in the world must satisfy the same conditions to have honor of being known as respectable and well-bred. ~ Yevgeny Zamyatin

He stood up, a giant of a man - er, male, his dark hair catching the dim light from the street lamps out in front of the condo. A wave of sadness came over her, and she closed her eyes.
"Hey," he said, sitting down next to her. "None of that. We're not sad. You and me? We're not sad. We don't do sad."
She laughed with a choking sound. "How did you know what I was feeling? Or do I look that pathetic?"
He tapped his nose. "I can smell it. Spring rain is what the scent's like."
"I hate this good-bye shit."
"Me, too." He leaned down and brushed his lips against her forehead. "Here." He shrugged out of his long-sleeved shirt, balled it up, and put it under her cheek. "Pretend this is me."
She breathed in deep, caught the bonding scent, and was calmed a little. As he stood, he looked so strong in just a muscle shirt, invincible, like a superhero. And yet he breathed.
"Please…be careful."
"Always." He bent over and kissed her again. "I love you."
As he pulled away, she reached out and grabbed his arm. Words failed, but the silence said enough.
"I hate the leaving, too," he replied roughly. "But I'll be back. I promise."

-Vishous & Jane ~ J.R. Ward

She walked by and I said, Nice shirt. What I really meant was, Nice tits. ~ Jarod Kintz

Did you make the crawl of shame?"
I open one eye and smirk, "What?"
She pulls back the covers and plucks my t-shirt, "What is this?"
I swallow and stretch and moan a little, "My…" I clear my throat, "Uhm...t-shirt."
I make duck lips and watch her.
She arches her eyebrow and shakes her head, pointing at my shirt and waggling her finger. "Nuh uh. No. I know all your dirty skeezy little orphan clothes and this shit isn't yours." She bats her eyelashes blankly, "Spill bitch. ~ Tara Brown

I was wearing my bathroom-cleaning costume of shorts, surgical boots, and gloves but no shirt. "Wow." She stared at me for a few moments. "This is what martial arts training does, is it?" She appeared to be referring to my pectoral muscles. ~ Graeme Simsion

And then he's grabbing my hand, and pulling me into a storage room they use for art supplies. And he puts his finger to his lips, and the walls are filled with pads of paper and boxes of colored pencils and jars of paint,
and I'm laughing
and he shuts the door behind us
and leans up against it to stop anyone coming in
and like he's trying to get up his nerve now that he's started something,
before we've ever gone to the dumplings and the movies -
he leans in and kisses me.
His lips are cold. The kiss is soft. He has gum in his mouth, and he stops, and giggles nervously, and takes it out and throws it in the trash can,
and looks like he feels embarrassed to have kissed me with the gum,
but I don't care,
and so now I kiss him,
and he's tall enough that he has to bend down to get to me,
and I put my hand on his neck, which is smooth and warm,
and we kiss for a minute in the storage room,and I want to run my hands up his shirt suddenly -
but I don't.
He pulls away for a second and touches my cheek.
"I thought you'd never ask," he whispers.
"I thought I never would either," I say, "but I did."
"Good job," he says, and kisses me again. ~ E. Lockhart

Vaguely she was aware of her moans floating across the backyard as her entire body tightened around him, then released, sending bits of her consciousness flying in all directions like the stars in the sky above. Her nails dug into his shoulder through his shirt as she anchored herself to him, as the orgasm pulsed through her. She felt the ripples of his own climax inside her, and then he collapsed over her, bringing both legs into the hammock and pulling her against his side.
"Perfect," he murmured, and in a few minutes, his breathing evened out. ~ Emma Jay

Words, not hands,' said Layne. She poked Gabriel with a fork. 'I think you need a T shirt that says that.'
He leaned in close. 'Give me five minutes and I bet I can change your mind. ~ Brigid Kemmerer

Heaven is boring. Didn't you see, in that picture book back when we used to go to school? It's just plain and white and there is not even any color and it's too orderly. Like there will be crazy prefects telling you all the time: Do thus, don't do that, where are your shoes, tuck in your shirt, shhh, God doesn't like it and will punish you, keep your voice low you'll wake the angels, go and wash, you are dirty, Bastard says.
Me, when I die I want to go where there's lots of food and music and a party that never ends and we're singing that Jobho song, Godknows says. ~ NoViolet Bulawayo

He wanted to kill us. With what? His evil-eye power?
Will pulled a gun out from underneath his loose shirt.
Oh, yeah, that would do it. ~ Jennifer L. Armentrout

When we got to the hotel, the Hawaiian Village, there were 500 screaming women there. The police were trying to keep the crowd back. It was very dangerous. ~ Minnie Pearl

Until then,will you stay?" he asked, pulling off his shirt before lying back down. "Will you talk to me? My head hurts and your voice calms me. ~ Michele Sinclair

Enough of the lessons," Mauvin said, clearly irritated at being the illustration of a fencing mistake. "Let's show him a real demonstration."

"Looking for a rematch?" Hadrian asked.

"Curious if it was luck."

Hadrian smiled and muttered, "Pickerings."

He took off his shirt and, wiping his face and hands, threw it on the grass and raised his sword to ready position. Mauvin lunged and immediately the two began to fight. The swords sang as they cut the air so fast their movements blurred. Hadrian and Mauvin danced around on the balls of their feet, shuffling in the dirt so briskly that a small cloud rose to knee height.

"By Mar!" the old farmer exclaimed.

Then abruptly they stopped, both panting from the exertion.

Mauvin glared at Hadrian with a look that was both amazed and irritated. "You're playing with me."

"I thought that was the point. You don't really want me to kill you?"

"Well no, but - well, like he said - by Mar! I've never seen anyone fight like you do; you're amazing."

"I thought you both were pretty amazing," Theron remarked. "I've never seen anything like that. ~ Michael J. Sullivan

Outside, he almost missed seeing a man's shadowed form disappearing into the bunkhouse. Hick's name formed a curse on his lips.
How long had the man stood at the kitchen window? The idea that he might have seen any part of his and Willow's lovemaking made him sick to his stomach. Cursing, he headed back to the cookhouse. He hoped Providence would one day grant him the opportunity to kill that bastard!
"Who was it?" Her attire repaired, Willow unlocked the door and fell into his arms.
Unable to dirty what they had just shared, Rider forced himself to chuckle. "Just a coyote, sneaking up on the henhouse. Good thing he alerted us or we'd have been caught out here buck naked when your hens started to alert the whole ranch." He felt her relax and he let her go. "It's late, darlin', and I think we've tested fate enough for one night. We better turn in."
Willow handed him his boots and then his shirt. They took one last look around the kitchen to make sure they'd left no embarrassing calling cards. Then he walked her to the house. At the back door, she pressed a lingering kiss to his lips, then silently disappeared inside.
Rider took his time as he headed toward his lonely bed in the bunkhouse. As much as he'd enjoyed being with Willow tonight, something told him he was going to regret it. ~ Charlotte McPherren

The comma, if it's left out, sometimes can be a problem. There's a slogan on a T-shirt going around that "Let's Eat, Grandma," and "Let's Eat Grandma." ~ Mary Norris

Eyeing me playfully, he tossed a rock back and forth between his hands. Was that an accident, or do you have a wet t-shirt competition you need me to get you ready for? ~ Devon Ashley

Kate Moss. She looks good in anything. She would look good in one of your t-shirts, in her t-shirt, in a man's suit, in a huge gown. She looks amazing naked. She even makes nude look stylish. That, to me, is a style icon. She could put a barrel on and it would be some sort of statement. ~ Justin Timberlake

Tailored jackets with jeans is a great look for all ages. Dress up with a heel and pretty shirt, or just wear a smart T-shirt under the jacket. ~ Twiggy

Maybe I should drive a hybrid. I do have a shirt that says, 'Go Green.' ~ Amanda Seyfried

Yeah, I know. These days, weird is my life. I should get that on a T-shirt. ~ Kelley Armstrong

I want to feel you up like we're sixteen in the backseat of a car. On the outside of your clothes," he said just above a whisper. "Touch you all over, then slide my hands up under your shirt. ~ Rachel Gibson

How generous is your mistress,' said the light, mocking voice of Prince Dmitri Ivanovich Vishnevetsky, 'who said that as your guest I might hunt where I pleased.'

Half veiled by the blossom, he leaned against the opposite wall: a man strongly made with cleft chin and soft chestnut hair and moustache, and all the arts of a courtier. In his hands was a small Turkish bow; and across the spangled silk of his shirt hung a quiver. He smiled as he ceased speaking, and bending the bow, took aim, lightly, at a fluttering host of birds calling from the cherry tree over his head.

The Voevoda smiled. 'I am more generous still,' he said, and drew back his arm, the fingers brushing his girdle. A flick of silver, arching through the air, touched Vishnevetsky's bow with a click, and the Prince made a sound, cut off at once, as he stumbled off-balance, the sliced wood and hemp whipping about him: his arms flung involuntarily apart. Lymond's knife, its chased hilt gold in the lamplight, lay on the cracked tiles at his feet. Lymond said, 'I give you both weapon and quarry. ~ Dorothy Dunnett

The 2XL shirt was still too small, leaving an exposed band of pale skin muffining out of his jeans. ~ Michael J. Sullivan

He gently covered her hand with his, wishing he could feel her soft skin through the rough leather of his work gloves. He dragged her fingers down from his mouth and cradled them against his chest. His gaze never left her face. Her breath caught in her throat, but she didn't look away. Fingers splayed, her palm pressed against the thin cotton of his shirt, directly over his heart. In that moment, he knew she belonged to him. ~ Karen Witemeyer

He grabs me around the waist, easily lifting me off the floor and through the door to his room. He puts me down, but his arms are still around me. They're warm, and I'm surrounded by the smell of fresh-cut grass, the creek. My eyes travel from his blue shirt to his face, and his expression changes.
"Jordan, I-"
He leans down and cuts me off with a kiss. Soft, warm lips press over mine gently. I only hesitate for half a second before reaching up and weaving my fingers into his hair. I open my mouth, and the flavor of mint grows stronger as our tongues slide together. A burst of energy fills my chest, and suddenly, I'm kissing him again, faster, like I can't get enough. He's keeping pace, and for the first time in months, the painful sadness is gone. ~ Leigh Talbert Moore

The fact that Cooper Dayton was running down the side streets of Bethesda and not driving back to D.C. by now was proof that his father had been dead wrong. His haircut was plenty professional. Too professional, even. How else could Ben Pultz have made him as a federal agent from thirty feet away and taken off running? Not from his jeans and T-shirt. Not from the weapons carefully hidden under his intentionally oversized jacket. It had to be the bureau-regulation hair. Apparently Pultz didn't think he looked like a "boy band reject," though Cooper doubted his dad, Sherriff Dayton, would be swayed by the opinion of a fleeing homicide suspect. ~ Charlie Adhara

Pearl Jam bassist Jeff Ament and I get excited talking about making record artwork or working with T-shirt designs. The least exciting part for us is talking about the finances; it's like going to the dentist for us. But we at least try to do it in a creative way and put our stamp on it. I can only think that we create something that's worth the value of that dollar. ~ Eddie Vedder

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. ~ Sophie Kinsella

Will tossed the bloody cloth aside. "And you wonder why we aren't friends."
"I just wondered," Gabriel said, in more subdued voice, "if perhaps you have ever had enough."
"Enough of what?"
"Enough of behaving as you do."
Will crossed his arms over his chest. His eyes glistening dangerously. "Oh, I can never get enough," he said. "Which, incidentally, is what your sister said to me when-"
The carriage door flew open. A hand shot out, grabbed Will by the back of his shirt, and hauled him inside. ~ Cassandra Clare

You like to watch?" The girl asked. "Or do you want to join us?"
"I…uh…" Oh, this wasn't hot anymore. This was just awkward, and I was so totally out of place with my flannel shirt and my socks and my hair back in a bun.
I was wearing fucking glasses. Who wears glasses to your neighbor's orgy? ~ Molly O'Keefe

But it felt good to cry, to let her shoulders shake, to feel the hot tears on her face, to taste their baby salt, to wipe snot all over the underside of her shirt. ~ Dave Eggers

After Marcus had wiped her perspiring body with a cool, damp cloth, he dressed her in his discarded shirt, which held the scent of his skin. He brought her a plate containing a poached pear, and a glass of sweet wine, and even allowed her to feed him a few bites of the silky-soft fruit. When her appetite was sated, Lillian set aside the empty plate and spoon, and turned to snuggle against him. He rose on one elbow and looked down at her, his fingers playing idly in her hair.
"Are you sorry that I wouldn't let St. Vincent have you?"
She gave him a puzzled smile. "Why would you ask such a thing? Surely you're not having pangs of conscience."
Marcus shook his head. "I am merely wondering if you had any regrets."
Surprised and touched by his need for reassurance, Lillian toyed with the dark curls on his chest. "No," she said frankly. "He is attractive, and I do like him… but I didn't want him."
"You did consider marrying him, however."
"Well," she admitted, "it did cross my mind that I would like to be a duchess - but only to spite you."
A smile flashed across his face. He retaliated with a punishing nip at her breast, causing her to yelp. "I couldn't have borne it," he admitted, "seeing you married to anyone but me."
"I don't think Lord St. Vincent will have any difficulty finding another heiress to suit his purposes."
"Perhaps. But there aren't many women with fortunes comparable to yours… and none with your beauty."
~ Lisa Kleypas

...Stella's tiny butt stuck in the air as she stretched to reach a weed. She was wearing a pair of jeans and a button-down pink and white checked shirt that was tucked into the elastic waistband of her pants. She reminded Rusty of an elf. "Excuse me, Stella?" "You stop right there if you have trouble on your mind. As you can see, I have plenty of birds, and I'll knock you out with one of them," Stella said without looking up. Rusty wanted to say that she'd yank up her own plastic flamingo and work Stella over with it in a heartbeat. Instead, she took a calming breath and said, "I made something you might like to have." "If it's a grenade launcher, I'm listening, Achmed. ~ Robin Alexander

She sees washing lines and women squatting by a stream, and the creaking ropes of a swing beneath a big tree, and a big dog, cowering from the taunts of the village boys, and a hawk-nosed man digging a ditch, shirt plastered to his back with sweat, and a veiled woman bent over a cooking fire. ~ Khaled Hosseini

Wearing a baseball cap or sleeveless shirt in a white-tablecloth restaurant is rude and makes other diners upset, just like someone on a cellphone. ~ Danny Meyer

There they are. Dancing in a circle. Shadows swinging over the snow. Calling upon the ancestors. Each wearing the sacred shirt. Side stepping to the left in time to the echoing heartbeat of the drums and the echoing yearning of the songs. There they are. Dancing in a circle. Shadows swinging over the firelit snow. Calling upon the ancestors. Expecting something wonderful to happen. Everyone singing. We will live again. We will live again. ~ Glenn Haybittle