I Miss You Next To Me Quotes

You know, when you see yourself on a big screen, I tend to watch from behind my hands. There is absolutely the regret. You always get that at the end of every project. That's what's great about theater: at least every night you get the chance to go out and re-offend. I'm endlessly disappointed, which is what propels me into the next project, probably, not to repair the damage but to kind of hopefully keep developing. Otherwise there's no reason to keep doing it, is there? ~ Cate Blanchett

You might want to do something about your neck."
I was totally lost. "My neck?"
She reached into her purse and handed me a compact mirror. I opened it and surveyed my neck, still trying to figure out what she could be talking about. Then I saw it. A small, brownish purple bruise on the side of my neck.
"What on earth is that?" I exclaimed.
Ms. Terwilliger snorted. "Although it's been a while for me, I believe the technical term is a hickey" She paused and arched an eyebrow. "You do know what that is, don't you?"
"Of course I know!" I lowered the mirror. "But there's no way - I mean, we barely - that is - "
She held up a hand to silence me. "You don't have to justify your private life to me. But you might want to consider how you can actually keep it private in the next fifteen minutes. ~ Richelle Mead

What's agitating about solitude is the inner voice telling you that you should be mated to somebody, that solitude is a mistake. The inner voice doesn't care about who you find. It just keeps pestering you, tormenting you
if you happen to be me
with homecoming queens first, then girls next door, and finally anybody who might be pleased to see you now and then at the dinner table and in bed on occasion. You look up from reading the newspaper and realize that no one loves you, and no one burns for you. ~ Charles Baxter

You tell me which society is going to be the winner in this 21st Century: One that worries about how we feel or the one that worries about making sure that the next generation has the capacity to eat everybody's lunch. ~ Jeb Bush

The nation has been turned upside down and inside out. The country that was once discovered by people seeking religious freedom is now oppressing religious rights. It has been a slow train rumbling down the track of destruction since the 1960's. It started with the removal of the Bible from our public schools. Next the generation known as the 'love generation' opened the door for the approval of sex outside of marriage. For every ten years since then, it's been a slippery slope of materialism, I got mine, what can you do for me, and money is power.
We as a nation have stopped focusing on God and family and replaced them with money and success. Parents are teaching their children to do whatever it takes to get ahead ... just don't get caught. If you do, find someone to blame it on. ~ Rick Mayhew

Ranulf stared blankly into the campfire, trying to ignore Lily.
"White horses always look dirty," Lily told the young smitten soldier sitting beside her. "That's why I refuse to ride them.Brown ones may be just as filthy,but at least I cannot see the dirt. Black ones less so,but I have found that in general dark horses suit me better."
"You just think you look better on them," Edythe protested before succumbing to several seconds of coughing.
Bronwyn studied her redheaded sister for a moment.Tyr put another blanket around Edythe's shoulders and eventually the coughs quieted. Turning her attention to Ranulf,Bronwyn promised him softly, "You'll have to ignore them."
Ranulf grimaced and sent a reproving look to his youngest sister-in-law. It,just like the others he had sent Lily throughout the day,changed nothing. "I just find it hard to reconcile the child I hear now with the woman who appeared after your death. With you gone,she had to grow up.Now that you are back..."
Bronwyn snuggled up against his side with a sigh. "I admit I encourage it.Life will force Lily to grow up soon enough and I am glad it was not my death that thrust it upon her. In the meantime,you ignore her prattle and I'll just be amused it," she advised before planting a gentle kiss on his arm.
Ranulf,with his free hand, raked his fingers through his short hair. How had he gotten into this predicament? But it took only one look at the huddled form next to him to remember exactly ~ Michele Sinclair

One day Marlboro Man invited my sister, Betsy, and me to the ranch to work cattle. She was home from college and bored, and Marlboro Man wanted Tim to meet another member of my family.
"Working cattle" is the term used to describe the process of pushing cattle, one by one, through a working chute, during which time they are branded, dehorned, ear tagged, and "doctored" (temperature taken, injections given). The idea is to get all the trauma and mess over with in one fell swoop so the animals can spend their days grazing peacefully in the pasture.
When Betsy and I pulled up and parked, Tim greeted us at the chute and immediately assigned us our duties. He handed my sister a hot shot, which is used to gently zap the animal's behind to get it to move through the chute.
It's considered the easy job.
"You'll be pushing 'em through," Tim told Betsy. She dutifully took the hot shot, studying the oddly shaped object in her hands.
Next, Tim handed me an eight-inch-long, thick-gauge probe with some kind of electronic device attached. "You'll be taking their temperature," Tim informed me.
Easy enough, I thought. But how does this thing fit into its ear? Or does it slide under its arm somehow? Perhaps I insert it under the tongue? Will the cows be okay with this?
Tim showed me to my location--at the hind end of the chute. "You just wait till the steer gets locked in the chute," Tim directed. "Then you push the stick all the way in and wait till I tell ~ Ree Drummond

One evening, Mike Myers and Steven Spielberg were discussing 'Goldmember,' and I just happened to joke, 'If you need a Japanese character, let me know!' The next day, they called me for audition! I find it's always helpful to maintain a sense of humour. ~ Nobu Matsuhisa

Spoilers.-River
Listen to me. At least hear me.-River
You can't.-River
Why didn't you talk to me?-River
I thought it would be too painful. I was right.-Doctor
At least say it like you're coming back.-River
Until next time.-River
He doesn't like endings.-River
Doctor Who S7 finale ~ Gary Russell

And for the next long years of my life, I tried to remember only the reading, not the terrible things that happened to me as I came and went up and down the stairs. The library became my sanctuary. I loved the ways the precious stories took shape but always had room to be read again. I became fascinated with how writers did that. How did they make a story feel so complete and yet to open-ended? It was like painting a picture that changed each time you looked at it. ~ Rene Denfeld

I shudder to think.
I might wear lace collars and laugh flower petals and pearls. People might try to pat me. I see them think it. My height triggers the puppy-kitten reflex- Must touch-and I've found that since you can't electrify yourself like a fence, the next best thing is to have murderer's eyes. ~ Laini Taylor

One of the Pima warriors on seeing the fire-arms used by the white soldiers, thought that the next time he went over to the [Maricopa] Wells, he would take his war weapons along and show them to the white soldiers. So the next time he went, he took along his war-club and shield. The soldiers on seeing his weapons, laughed and made all sorts of remarks as to the effective use of such weapons. The joking went on until the Pima made a challenge to the white man. He said:
'You, white warrior
Take shooting iron.
Stand here ready.
I take war club and shield,
Step off ten paces,
Turn around, come back.
If you see any part of me,
Shoot!'
The White soldier stood there with gun in hand while the Pima walked away ten paces, turned around and came back hiding behind the shield so well that no part of his body could be seen. The white soldier did not shoot as the Pima came up to him. With the edge of his shield the Pima knocked the gun out of the soldier's hand. He lifted his war club as if he was about to use it. But the soldier took to his heels and ran into a nearby house, closing the door after him.
The people who saw this had a good laugh and no such challenge was ever made again.
Sometimes there would be shooting contests between Pimas and whites, Pimas with their bows and arrows and the whites with their firearms. They would place a target at different distances and see who could hit the bull's eye. The Pimas often won the ma ~ George Webb

Layla, the first moment I laid eyes on you I knew I had to have you. I
watched you walk across that street to the coffee house in a complete daze. You were breathtaking. Fumbling around in your purse, your hair
blowing in the breeze around your face. I couldn't take my eyes off you. In fact I was so stunned I never even noticed how close I was standing to the
door when you backed your way into it. So when you asked me how I didn't see you through that glass, I did see you. Then when you told me you
worked here, oh Layla, I can't lie, I was thrilled and worried all at the same time. It meant I would be able to see you whenever I wanted. That's why I
came in the next day and every day after that, just to see you here. When you agreed to go on a date with me, I thought my head and chest would
explode from the sheer joy I felt. You were so easy to talk to and wonderfully fiery, sarcastic, yet warm and caring at the same time. I feel like I've
known you forever. I've never shared a connection with anyone like the one I have with you. So no, I don't think it's fast ~ Marie Coulson

It never works out! *kicks rock, it hits a window, sirens go off*
(iggy) Uh oh.
(max) Up and away guys! Come on iggy, we gotta go.
(iggy) No. *sits down*
(max) Iggy, come on!
(iggy) No! It's different for you, you don't know what it's like, Yeah I make jokes- I'm the blind kid, but don't you see? Every time we move I'm lost all over again, you guys- It's much easier for you. Even your lost isn't as bad as my lost. You know
*sirens coming closer*
(max) Ig, i know it's hard, but if you think I'm going to let you give up on us now, you've got another think coming. Yes, you're a blind mutant freak, but you're my blind mutant freak, and you're coming with me, now, you're coming with us right now, or I swear I will kick your skinny white ass from here to the middle of next week.
*Iggy raises his head lights flashing telling max that he cops were almost on top of them*
(max) Iggy, I need you, I love you. I need all of you, all five of you, to fell whole myself. Now get up, before I kill you."
*Iggy stands* "Well, when you put it that way..."
*max smiles* come on ig
*they fly off* ~ James Patterson

To me the question is always this: if a ray of light came out of the sky and said, "Your next book will never be published - would you still write it?" If the answer is yes, the book is worth writing. ~ Markus Zusak

This time, I sat next to a pixie girl called Takara, who had pinkish hair and wore a bright pink dress to match. She was the first forest-dweller I had seen wearing jewellery: she was wearing a necklace and bracelet of finely worked crystal beads. When she noticed my interest, she removed her bracelet and held it out to me.
"Sophiel, I would be so pleased if you would wear this!"
I was surprised by this kind and very selfless gesture; after all, I had not been admiring her jewels with any intention of asking her to part with them!
"You're very kind, Takara, but I was merely admiring your handiwork!" I said, trying politely to refuse her gift. "Mitsuko told me that you make your jewellery yourself. You're very talented, they're really lovely pieces, but I wouldn't want to take them away from you. It's you that makes these jewels really beautiful! ~ A.O. Esther

Look, we can stand out here and argue about it for the next ten minutes, but you're getting in this truck."
My eyes narrowed. "Let me remind you of something. I don't know you. Like at all."
"And I'm not asking you to get naked and give me a private show." Pausing, his gaze seemed to drift down my body again. "Although, that is way interesting. A bad idea, but way interesting. ~ J. Lynn

I'm the best," Elena muttered to herself the next morning s she got out of the taxi in front of the magnificient creation that was Archangel Tower.
"Hey, lady, you gonna pay me or just talk to yourself?"
"What? Oh ... Keep the change."
... " ... you got a big hunt coming on?"
Elena didn't ask how he'd pegged her for a hunter. "No. But I do have a high chance of meeting a horrible death within the next few hours. Might as well do something good as up my shot at getting into heaven. ~ Nalini Singh

Suggestions? Put it aside for a few days, or longer, do other things, try not to think about it. Then sit down and read it (printouts are best I find, but that's just me) as if you've never seen it before. Start at the beginning. Scribble on the manuscript as you go if you see anything you want to change. And often, when you get to the end you'll be both enthusiastic about it and know what the next few words are. And you do it all one word at a time. ~ Neil Gaiman

It was nice to meet you," I say loudly in a more formal tone than I used when we were alone. And then I surprise myself, lean closer to him and whisper something I know I shouldn't.
"You know, my family's assigned to the next supply run into town this Saturday." I can't quite look at him afterward. What am I doing?
He shoots me a sidelong glance and a slow smile spreads across his face, lighting up his gray-green eyes. "Maybe we'll run into each other. Could happen . . . especially if I have a general idea of where you're going to be."
My breath quickens. I can feel his smile becoming contagious and I return it with one of my own. "We'll probably be at Walmart for most of the morning."
"I happen to love that store. Where else can you get a haircut, goldfish, and camping gear all at the same time?"
He winks at me and I have to clamp my mouth shut to keep from laughing. I've never felt so reckless. It's terrifying, but exhilarating too. ~ Amy Christine Parker

When I came out of the Charity Ward of the L.A. County General Hospital in 1955 after drinking ten years without missing a night or day (except while in jail) they told me that if I ever took another drink I would be dead. I went back to my shack job and I asked her, "What the hell am I going to do now?" "We'll play the horses," she said. "Horses?" "Yeah, they run and you bet on them." She had found some money on the boulevard so we went out. I had 3 winners, one of them paid over 50 bucks. It seemed very easy. We went out a second time and I won again. That night I decided that if I mixed some wine with milk it might not hurt me. I tried a glass, half wine, half milk. I didn't die. The next glass I tried a little less milk and a little more wine. By the time the night was over I had been drinking straight wine. In the morning I got up without hemorrhaging. After that I drank and played the horses. 27 years later I am still doing both. Time is made to be wasted... ~ Charles Bukowski

I knew that people were going to talk about it, I knew it was embarrassing, and I knew it was a big deal. But did I think that it was going to be this thing that followed me for, you know, the next years to come? I guarantee you, 25 years from now, I'll be known as the girl that lip synced on 'SNL.' But, you know, it was a weird thing. Not fun. ~ Ashlee Simpson

The next morning, I woke up to hear Becky moaning and rustling around in her bed covers.
"I'm so itchy!" she cried.
"So scratch!" I said, groggily, but suddenly, I felt itchy too.
So, I started scratching my legs. They felt better until I stopped scratching. Then, it started to burn. I threw back the covers and saw that my legs were covered in red bumps.
"My legs!" I yelled.
Becky looked over at me. Then, she pulled back her covers. Her legs were even worse. She gasped.
"Mom!" I cried.
Mom came in. She was ready for work, wearing her dress shirt and gym shorts. She only had to dress up the top half of her body in case she had to use her webcam to talk to her boss.
"What is it?" she asked.
"Look!" I said, showing her our legs.
"Oh no! That's poison ivy!" she cried, "Where were you guys playing yesterday?"
"The woods," I said.
"You must have been sitting in it," she said.

- The Castle Park Kids ~ Laura Smith

I was so furious, you see, that all around me were things that could move and bend and grow and reproduce and my son - my vital, charismatic, beautiful boy - was just this thing. Immobile, wilted, bloodied, suffering. Their beauty seemed like an obscenity. I screamed and I screamed and I swore - words I didn't know I knew - until Steven came out and stood, his hand resting on my shoulder, waiting until he could be sure that I would be silent again. He didn't understnad, you see. He hadn't worked it out yet. That Will would try again. That our lives would be spent in a state of constant vigilance, waiting for the next time, waiting to see what horror he could inflict upon himself. We would have to see the world through his eyes - the potential poisons, the sharp objects, the inventiveness with which he could finish the job that damned motorcyclist had started. Our lives had to shrink to fit around the potential for that one act. And he had the advantage - he had nothing else to think about, you see ? Two weeks later, I told Will, "Yes". Of course I did. What else could I have done ? ~ Jojo Moyes

Different things make me feel sexy. Sometimes it's just a manicure or when I buy some new underwear or just receiving a compliment from a guy on the street. But I think to feel sexy, you just need the right person next to you, who's going to complete you and make you feel even sexier. ~ Irina Shayk

I wonder where they'll go," Jake continued, frowning a little. "There's wolves out there, and all sorts of beasts."
"No self-respecting wolf would dare to confront that duenna of hers, not with that umbrella she wields," Ian snapped, but he felt a little uneasy.
"Oho!" said Jake with a hearty laugh. "So that's what she was? I thought they'd come to court you together. Personally, I'd be afraid to close my eyes with that gray-haired hag in bed next to me."
Ian was not listening. Idly he unfolded the note, knowing that Elizabeth Cameron probably wasn't foolish enough to have written it in her own girlish, illegible scrawl. His first thought as he scanned the neat, scratchy script was that she'd gotten someone else to write it for her…but then he recognized the words, which were strangely familiar, because he'd spoken them himself:

Your suggestion has merit. I'm leaving for Scotland on the first of next month and cannot delay the trip again. Would prefer the meeting take place there, in any case. A map is enclosed for direction to the cottage. Cordially-Ian.

"God help that silly bastard if he ever crosses my path!" Ian said savagely.
"Who d'you mean?"
"Peters!"
"Peters?" Jake said, gaping. "Your secretary? The one you sacked for mixin' up all your letters?"
"I should have strangled him! This is the note I meant for Dickinson Verley. He sent it to Cameron instead."
In furious disgust Ian raked his hand through his hair ~ Judith McNaught

Your coffin reached the monstrous hole. And a part of me went down into the muddy earth with you and lay down next to you and died with you. ~ Rosamund Lupton

There was an old Taoist who lived in a village in ancient China, named Master Hu. Hu loved God and God loved Hu, and whatever God did was fine with Hu, and whatever Hu did was fine with God. They were friends. They were such good friends that they kidded around. Hu would do stuff to God like call him "The Great Clod." That's how he kidded. That was fine with God. God would turn around and do stuff to Hu like give him warts on his face, wens on his head, arthritis in his hands, a hunch in his back, canker sores in his mouth and gout in his feet. That's how He kidded. That God. What a kidder! But it was fine with Hu.
Master Hu grew lumpy as a toad; he grew crooked as cherry wood; he became a human pretzel. "You Clod!" he'd shout at God, laughing. That was fine with God. He'd send Hu a right leg ten inches shorter than the left to show He was listening. And Hu would laugh some more and walk around in little circles, showing off his short leg, saying to the villagers, "Haha! See how the Great Clod listens! How lumpy and crookedy and ugly He is making me! He makes me laugh and laugh! That's what a Friend is for!" And the people of the village would look at him and wag their heads: sure enough, old Hu looked like an owl's nest; he looked like a swamp; he looked like something the dog rolled in. And he winked at his people and looked up at God and shouted, "Hey Clod! What next?" And splot! Out popped a fresh wart.
The people wagged their heads till their tongues wagged too ~ David James Duncan

I like that," Bree admitted. "It's like…it's never too late to change." Her eyes met his, and she hoped he understood that she meant it for him as well as for herself. She wanted Alessandro to give in to the good she knew was in him and leave the Dardano family behind.
"I forgot about that. I feel rather ashamed of it now. Because of the things I've done. Then I was looking at this tiny creature here, and you're going to think I'm mad but…every time I look at him, he looks different to me. He's the same boy, but something in him is always changing. It's not a physical thing that I can explain to you, but it's…like…I don't know," Alessandro said shrugging and lowering his head. He sat on the bed next to her and stared at the incubator. The baby's eyes were open, staring back, blinking slowly, sleepily.
"You're seeing him become a person. Like all the parts of him are coming together and making this tiny person's soul. He was one person in here," Bree pointed to her stomach. "And now he's changing on the outside so he can be a part of the world."
"That's it," Alessandro nodded. "He's a part of the world now. My world, in a completely different way than when he was inside of you. It's like having two sons and watching them become one as a slow minute by minute process. He's never going to stop changing. What he thinks and feels now is not going to be what he thinks and feels tomorrow or fifty years from now."
"It's the same for you," Bree said, closing he ~ E. Jamie

Akos had appeared in my doorway, his short brown hair sticking out in all directions, leaning into the wood.
"What," he said, eyes wide, "is that sound?"
In spite of the current's pain shooting through me, I laughed. I had never seen him this disheveled before. His drawstring pants were twisted halfway around, and his cheek bore the red imprint of creased sheets.
"It's just the start of the Sojourn Festival," I said. "Relax. Untwist your pants."
His cheeks turned faintly pink, and he righted the waistband of his pants.
"Well, how was I supposed to know that?" he replied irritably. "Next time, when something that sounds remarkably like war drums is going to wake me at dawn, could you maybe warn me?"
"You're determined to deprive me of fun."
"That's because apparently, your version of 'fun' is making me believe I'm in mortal peril. ~ Veronica Roth