Juntilla T Shirt Quotes

All of them had been give a makeover. Leo was wearing pinstriped pants, black leather shoes, a white collarless shirt with suspenders, and his tool
belt, Ray-Ban sunglasses, and a porkpie hat.
"God, Leo." Piper tried not to laugh. "I think my dad wore that to his last premiere, minus the tool belt."
"Hey, shut up!"
"I think he looks good," said Coach Hedge. "'Course, I look better."
The satyr was a pastel nightmare. Aphrodite had given him a baggy canary yellow zoot suit with two-tone shoes that fit over his hooves. He had a
matching yellow broad-brimmed hat, a rose-colored shirt, a baby blue tie, and a blue carnation in his lapel, which Hedge sniffed and then ate.
"Well," Jason said, "at least your mom overlooked me."
Piper knew that wasn't exactly true. Looking at him, her heart did a little tap dance. Jason was dressed simply in jeans and a clean purple T-shirt, like
he'd worn at the Grand Canyon. He had new track shoes on, and his hair was newly trimmed. His eyes were the same color as the sky. Aphrodite's
message was clear: This one needs no improvement.
And Piper agreed. ~ Rick Riordan

You see, the Mets are losers, just like nearly everybody else in life. This is a team for the cab driver who gets held up and the guy who loses out on a promotion because he didn't maneuver himself to lunch with the boss enough. It is the team for every guy who has to get out of bed in the morning and go to work for short money on a job he does not like. And it is the team for every woman who looks up ten years later and sees her husband eating dinner in a t-shirt and wonders how the hell she ever let this guy talk her into getting married. The Yankees? Who does well enough to root for them, Laurence Rockefeller? ~ Jimmy Breslin

So, what did you get for me?"
Angeline paused for a beat. "Jeans."
"What?" croaked Artemis.
"And a T-shirt. ~ Eoin Colfer

Thom pulled nervously at his 'Kings' t-shirt. The Kings are a brutal West African gang that he follows onscreen. Such 'tourist shows', as I understand they are called, have become wildly popular in recent years, as global unrest makes actual travel less popular.

Armoured imaging teams, using tiny remote drone cameras known as 'flies', take the viewer inside the violent, gang-controlled regions of Nigeria and Cameroon. Using a touch screen, viewers (or 'zoners' as they are sometimes called) can follow the action from multiple angles while cheering on their favourite gang. ~ Paul Christensen

My fingers gripped his sweaty T-shirt. I kept kissing
Eagan until he groaned softly in his sleep.
"I love you," I murmured against his lips.
I moved away from him. I forced myself to stand, I
grabbed my guitar case and I left.
On the bus, I kept licking my lips; I tasted him, the salt
of his sweat, and a hint of cinnamon. ~ Petra March

I want to prove that he's wrong - he's wearing a t-shirt that says he won the last two fights. ~ Manny Pacquiao

If life hands you lemons,keep them. Because, hey, free lemons.-T-Shirt ~ Darynda Jones

I don't like to try very hard. Most of the time it's just jeans, a T-shirt and Converse trainers. Casual, comfortable and boyish is how I'd describe my look. The way people wear clothes makes them stylish, rather than the clothes themselves. ~ Jessica Hart

It isn't just the idea of a woman in a truck. At this point, they're everywhere. The statisticians tell us today's woman is as likely to buy a truck as a minivan. One cheers the suffrage, but the effect is dilutive. My head doesn't snap around the way it used to. Ignoring for the moment that my head (or the gray hairs upon it) may be the problem, I think it's not about women in trucks, it's about certain women in certain trucks. Not so long ago I was fueling my lame tan sedan at the Gas-N-Go when a woman roared across the lot in a dusty pickup and pulled up to park by the yellow cage in which they lock up the LP bottles. She dismounted wearing scuffed boots and dirty jeans and a T-shirt that was overwashed and faded, and at the very sight of her I made an involuntary noise that went, approximately, ohf...! I suppose ohf...! reflects as poorly on my character as wolf whistle, but I swear it escaped without premeditation. Strictly a spinal reflex. [...] The woman plucking her eyebrows in the vanity mirror of her waxed F-150 Lariat does not elicit the reflex. Even less so if her payload includes soccer gear or nothing at all. That woman at the Gas-N-Go? I checked the back of her truck. Hay bales and a coon dog crate. Ohf...! ~ Michael Perry

Just then Patch ambled through the front door. I did a double take to make it was really him. I hadn't expected him to come. We'd never resolved our fight, and I'd pridefully refused to take the first step, forcing myself to lock my cell phone in a drawer every time I was tempted to call him and apologize, despite my increasing distress that he might never call either. My pride immediately turned to relief at the sight of him. I hated fighting. I hated not having him close. If he was ready to mend this, so was I.A smile flickered across my face at the sight of his costume; black jeans, black t-shirt, black face mask. The latter concealed all but his cool, assessing gaze.
"There's my date," I said. "Fashionably late. ~ Becca Fitzpatrick

Boney freckled knees pressed into bits of bark and stone, refusing to feel any more pain.
Her faded t-shirt hugged her protruding ribs as she held on, hunched in silence.
A lone tear followed the lumpy tracks down her cheek, jumped from her quivering jaw onto a thirsty browned leaf with a thunderous plop.
Then the screen door squeaked open and she took flight.
Crispy twigs snapped beneath her bare feet as she ran deeper and deeper into the woods behind the house. She heard him rumbling and calling her name, his voice fueling her tired muscles to go faster, to survive.
He knew her path by now. He was ready for the hunt.
The clanging unbuckled belt boomed in her ears as he gained on her.
The woods were thin this time of year, not much to hide behind. If she couldn't outrun him, up she would go.
Young trees teased her in this direction, so she moved east towards the evergreens.
Hunger and hurt left her no choice, she had to stop running soon.
She grabbed the first tree with a branch low enough to reach, and up she went.
The pine trees were taller here, older, but the branches were too far apart for her to reach. She chose the wrong tree.
His footsteps pounded close by.
She stood as tall as her little legs could, her bloodied fingers reaching, stretching, to no avail. A cry of defeat slipped from her lips, a knowing laugh barked from his.
She would pay for this dearly. She didn't know whether the price was more ~ Kim Bongiorno

I used to wear sweats and a T-shirt to auditions, but my agent would yell at me and tell me I had to look nice and presentable. So I had to drop that habit. ~ Kellan Lutz

I'm a T-shirt-and-jeans-with-combat-boots guy. And if I don't have to shave, I don't. ~ Gabriel Macht

I watched Dastien take the first couple of steps. His lithe movements mesmerized me. His muscles tensed and released under his tight grey T-shirt, and his jeans made his butt look so cute. I tilted my head as I stared. He chose that moment to look back at me. "You coming?" A grin spread across his face. "What are you looking at?" "Just enjoying the view." No ~ Aileen Erin

Ella."
The sound was so quiet, I barely heard it through the blood-rush in my ears. I turned to look down the hallway.
A man was coming toward me, his lean form clad in a pair of baggy scrub pants and a loose T-shirt. His arm was bandaged with silver-gray burn wrap.
I knew the set of those shoulders, the way he moved.
Jack.
My eyes blurred, and I felt my pulse escalate to a painful throbbing. I began to shake from the effects of trying to encompass too much feeling, too fast.
"Is it you?" I choked.
"Yes. Yes. God, Ella . . ."
I was breaking down, every breath shattering. I gripped my elbows with my hands, crying harder as Jack drew closer. I couldn't move. I was terrified that I was hallucinating, conjuring an image of what I wanted most, that if I reached out I would find nothing but empty space. But Jack was there, solid and real, reaching around me with hard, strong arms. The contact with him was electrifying. I flattened against him, unable to get close enough.
He murmured as I sobbed against his chest. "Ella . . . sweetheart, it's all right. Don't cry. Don't . . ."
But the relief of touching him, being close to him, had caused me to unravel. Not too late. The thought spurred a rush of euphoria. Jack was alive, and whole, and I would take nothing for granted ever again. I fumbled beneath the hem of his T-shirt and found the warm skin of his back. My fingertips encountered the edge of another bandage. He kept his ~ Lisa Kleypas

I like to get input from the ladies when I shop." He grabbed a navy T-shirt and studied the il ustration, a cartoon drawing of a woman with enormous
breasts and a rocket launcher between her legs.
"That would be a definite no," she said.
"I like it." He tossed it over his shoulder and began thumbing through a stack of jeans.
"I thought you wanted my input."
He stared at her blankly. "Why'd you think that?" She gave up. ~ Susan Elizabeth Phillips

I saw a fellow in a Don't Tread on Me T-shirt the other day. He was at LaGuardia and he was being trod all over, by the obergropinfuhrers of the TSA, who had decided to subject him to one of their enhanced pat-downs. There are few sights more dismal than that of a law-abiding citizen having his genitalia pawed by state commissars, but having them pawed while wearing a Don't Tread on Me T-shirt is certainly one of them. ~ Mark Steyn

After I shower and put in all my products, I hang out with the diffuser with my head flipped over for five to seven minutes. But before I use a hair dryer, I'll towel-dry my hair. Actually, drying your hair with an old T-shirt is a great trick. It helps to get all the extra water out, without bringing on frizz. ~ Tori Kelly

Why are you wearing a T-shirt under your other T-shirt?" Livvy asked.
"In case one of them is stolen," Marked said, as it were entirely normal. ~ Cassandra Clare

Before the downpour, Al had thought Lou looked alluring in her pale pink T-shirt and simple flowered skirt. Her soft brown waves bounced around her shoulders with the humidity. She was simply beautiful. But with the addition of water, she evolved into a siren. Her thin cotton clothes clung to every curve. She slicked her hair away from her face, as if emerging from an enchanted lake. ~ Amy E. Reichert

A suit is my work uniform, Sadie, nothing more. It's business, and also about professionalism and maturity, and to a lesser degree, image. I'm not going to wear a T-shirt and jeans into a business meeting with NASA, for example. Not when we're going to sit down and discuss future projects that could add up to billions of dollars. I'm not hiding behind my clothes, but I'm not being inauthentic either. ~ Jill Shalvis

I go outside, and I'm wearing a funky T-shirt and my hair is dirty, and people say, 'What's wrong with her? She needs to invest in a hairbrush.' ~ Kristen Stewart

Her Mao tse-tung t-shirt was stretched so tightly across her chest that the Chairman was grinning broadly ~ Armistead Maupin

So, what happened to your face?"
Sara grabbed Miki by her T-shirt and jeans before she could dive over the counter at the Asian girl they called Kelly.
Angelina leaned forward as Sara pulled Miki back to her, "You know what they say about curiosity? That it stabbed the annoying biker girl over and over and over again until she spit up blood."
Oh, yeah. That was subtle. ~ Shelly Laurenston

Vane, you okay in there?" my mom calls through my door.
I jump so hard I crash into my desk and knock off some books and video game cases.
If my mom comes in and finds a gorgeous girl in a skimpy dress passed out on my worn gray rug, I'll be grounded for the rest of eternity. Especially since all I have on at the moment are my Batman boxers. Pretty sure she won't buy my ghost-guardian angel/freak-of-nature theories either.
I stumble toward the door, prepared to barricade it with my dresser if I have to. "I'm fine, Mom," I say as I grab the first T-shirt I see off my floor and throw it on, along with my gym shorts.
"Then what's all that banging?"
Come on, Vane. Think!
Inspiration strikes. "I found a date roach in my bed."
"Did you kill it?" My mom sounds farther away, like she jumped back.
"I tried to, but now I can't find it." I don't need to worry about my mom offering to help. She's a big believer in the whole boys should kill all the bugs philosophy.
"Well, I won't distract you, then," she says, and I can't help smiling. ~ Shannon Messenger

He put on a short-sleeved white T-shirt and tried not to flex when he checked his reflection in the mirror. Is this what women felt like when they put on miniskirts? ~ Rainbow Rowell

In my room, I scrub my eyes with makeup wipes and change into leggings and old band T-shirt. I'll let my teeth decay tonight. ~ Sally Thorne

Zoe had dressed up for their meeting with Dr. Marriott in a long Indian skirt stitched with beads and tiny mirrors, a T-shirt embossed with CAT WOMAN STRIKES AGAIN! and a short-sleeved pink hoodie. To top it off, she wore a bracelet made from typewriter keys. She was sure Dr. Marriott would love it, seeing as typewriters were right up his alley. ~ Christine Brodien-Jones

Aidan Kincaid, wearing cargo pants and a dark blue T-shirt with a Search-and-Rescue emblem on the pec, a radio on his hip, looking dusty and hot and tired and sexy as hell. ~ Jill Shalvis

He was wearing a plain white oxford unbuttoned over a T-shirt, but something about the way they fit made him look put together, like an Abercrombie model (well, like an Abercrombie model who had remembered to put on a shirt that morning). ~ Claire LaZebnik

He watches the shadows cast by her hands as she sorts through their clothes scattered across the floor. The shape of her arms as she reaches up, slipping his black T-shirt over her head -- like victory. He considers the triumph of this moment, the slick of sweat on his chest. A small clatter, then the sound of a striking match. Her face glows. he reaches for her. She blows the match out, darts across the room, lights another one, glows, blows it out. ~ Suzanne Alyssa Andrew

I need to go to the grocery store because I've got nothing in my fridge but an old t-shirt, a pair of jeans, and a sweater (after all, it does get cold in the fridge). ~ Jarod Kintz

A T-shirt is a T-shirt. Spending hundreds of dollars on it doesn't elevate it. He was under-dressed, even if his casual outfit did cost more than my suit and tie.
I once had another fashion victim tell me, 'This T-shirt cost twelve thousand dollars!'
What difference does that make? If that's the message you want to send about yourself and your fashion sense, you should wear the price tag, or that should be the message on your T-shirt: 'Hi. This T-shirt costs more than a semester of college.' Or: 'Hi. I have money to burn. Please help me get rid of all this wealth.' And my shirt, in turn, would say, 'Great. Please write a $12,000 check to charity. ~ Tim Gunn

To expand the definition of freedom you have to keep on setting something free… ~ Talismanist Giebra

The cool thing about designers is they have very specific points of view, and because my inspiration is always changing, it's easy to go, 'This feels right.' But just because I wear fancy dresses on weekends doesn't mean in my heart of hearts I'm not a jeans and T-shirt person. ~ Brie Larson

I could get a T-shirt that says 'All in for Week 4 of the Preseason.' That's not quite as catchy, and I don't have an endorsement deal with an apparel company. Maybe someone will sign me now. I don't make enough money to get fined. Maybe I'll get a deal with some off-brand or something that sells at Walmart or something. ~ Kirk Cousins

I love a modern suit paired with a polo or cotton T-shirt ... and then paired with leather sneakers, or cashmere joggers with a tailored blazer and a sleeveless puffer vest to get the ultimate informal and formal combination. ~ Brunello Cucinelli

Hey,' he said, touching my waist. 'Hey. It's okay.' I nodded and wiped my face with the back of my hand. 'He sucks.' I nodded again. 'I'll write you an epilogue,' Gus said. That made me cry harder. 'I will,' he said. 'I will. Better than any sh*t that drunk could write. His brain is Swiss cheese. He doesn't even remember writing the book. I can write ten times the story that guy can. There will be blood and guts and sacrifice. An Imperial Affliction meets The Prince of Dawn. You'll love it.' I kept nodding, faking a smile, and then he hugged me, his strong arms pulling me into his muscular chest, and I sogged up his polo shirt a little but then recovered enough to speak. ~ John Green

Home to a girl's most secret fantasy. I just hoped said fantasy had managed to find a t-shirt. ~ Natasha Boyd

We stink more of the world than we stink of sack cloth and ashes. A lot of contemporary churches today would feel more at home in a movie house rather than in a house of prayer, more afraid of holy living than of sinning, know more about money than magnifying Christ in our bodies. It is so compromised that holiness and living a sin-free life is heresy to the modern church. The modern church is, quite simply, just the world with a Christian T-shirt on! ~ Nicky Cruz

I loathe the idea of going onstage in a T-shirt and jeans. ~ Martin Gore

A while back a young woman from another state came to live with some of her relatives in the Salt Lake City area for a few weeks. On her first Sunday she came to church dressed in a simple, nice blouse and knee-length skirt set off with a light, button-up sweater. She wore hose and dress shoes, and her hair was combed simply but with care. Her overall appearance created an impression of youthful grace.

Unfortunately, she immediately felt out of place. It seemed like all the other young women her age or near her age were dressed in casual skirts, some rather distant from the knee; tight T-shirt-like tops that barely met the top of their skirts at the waist (some bare instead of barely); no socks or stockings; and clunky sneakers or flip-flops.

One would have hoped that seeing the new girl, the other girls would have realized how inappropriate their manner of dress was for a chapel and for the Sabbath day and immediately changed for the better. Sad to say, however, they did not, and it was the visitor who, in order to fit in, adopted the fashion (if you can call it that) of her host ward.

It is troubling to see this growing trend that is not limited to young women but extends to older women, to men, and to young men as well. . . .

I was shocked to see what the people of this other congregation wore to church. There was not a suit or tie among the men. They appeared to have come from or to be on their way to the golf course. It was har ~ D. Todd Christofferson

The one thing I will never do is buy a shirt because of its name, especially when it's $600 for that shirt. To me, that's ridiculous. It's just a shirt; it's not worth the money. ~ Macklemore