Me And Miss Mandible Quotes

I believe that because I had obtained a wife who was made up of wife-signs (beauty, charm, softness, perfume, cookery) I had found love. ~ Donald Barthelme

Good girls smell like burnt tangerines for those with bad intentions-- fragrant but bitter, it is a repellant. Bad girls like me smell like ripe apples, ready for picking, juicy and tart.
No one will miss them at all. ~ Camilla Bruce

THE HOUSE straightened up and then go on and fix some of that chicken salad now, say Miss Leefolt. It's bridge club day. Every fourth Wednesday a the month. A course I already got everthing ready to go - made the chicken salad this morning, ironed the tablecloths yesterday. Miss Leefolt seen me at it too. She ain't but twenty-three years old and she like hearing herself tell me what to do. She already got the blue dress on I ironed this morning, the one with sixty-five pleats on the waist, so tiny I got to squint through my glasses to iron. I don't hate much in life, ~ Kathryn Stockett

I've been wanting to do a book about baseball for the longest time, and nobody will let me do it. It's the one thing from America I really miss. ~ Bill Bryson

Now this really annoys me: All these people getting on the Internet and saying Nostradamus predicted this. If Nostradamus were alive today his name would be Miss Cleo and he'd be charging $2.99 a minute. ~ Jay Leno

Rabindranath Tagore writes that the song he wanted to sing has never happened because he spent his days "stringing and unstringing" his instrument. Whenever I read these lines a certain sadness enters my soul. I get so preoccupied with the details and pressure of my schedule, with the hurry and worry of life, that I miss the song of goodness which is waiting to be sung through me. ~ Joyce Rupp

To a student: Dear Miss - I have read about sixteen pages of your manuscript ... I suffered exactly the same treatment at the hands of my teachers who disliked me for my independence and passed over me when they wanted assistants ... Keep your manuscript for your sons and daughters, in order that they may derive consolation from it and not give a damn for what their teachers tell them or think of them ... There is too much education altogether. ~ Albert Einstein

Tell it to me."
"Why? We both know the tale."
"Even so. I want to hear it from your lips. Tell the tale. The room will keep rhythm."
Tell the tale. My heart clenched. I miss you, Gauri. Sinking into my old habit was easy enough. I sat on the floor, crossing my legs in front of me, my gaze flickering between Amar and the pillar. Amar's eyes were closed, his head tilted back to expose his bronzed throat. I spun my tale and the sky shimmered with images. I told Amar of the demon king who wished to escape death so he performed the most severe penances until he was granted a boon by the gods.
"He prayed that he would not die inside or outside his home. He prayed that he would die neither at night or day nor in the ground or in the sky. He prayed that neither man nor beast could kill him. He prayed no weapon could harm him."
Amar's head snapped up. He looked at the pillar with a wicked smile.
"And yet death found its way to him."
I nodded. "One day, the god appeared as part-man, part-lion and burst forth from the pillar."
A being of shadow tore through the pillar. A lion's mane cast a torn shadow across the marble. Fangs lengthened in its mouth.
"He came upon the demon king at twilight--"
"--which is neither night nor day," said Amar.
"And he appeared on the threshold of a courtyard--"
"Neither indoors nor out."
"And he spread the king across his lap."
"Neither above nor below ground."
The shadow story playe ~ Roshani Chokshi

Oh and I miss you the normal amount too." - Lilianna Gregor
"You're only missing me the normal amount too? Good to know." - Dylan Mead ~ H.R. Willaston

Today she met me at the door, said I would have to choose, if I picked up that fishing rod today, she'd be packing all her things and she'd be gone by noon ... well I'm gonna miss her when I get home tonight. ~ Brad Paisley

He'd promised she would be "safe," which she now realized left a great deal of room for personal interpretation. "If I'm going to remain," she said uneasily, "I think we ought to agree to observe all the proprieties and conventions."
"Such as?"
"Well, for a beginning, you really shouldn't be calling me by my given name."
"Considering the kiss we exchanged in the arbor last night, it seems a little absurd to call you Miss Cameron."
It was the time to tell him she was Lady Cameron, but Elizabeth was too unstrung by his reference to those unforgettable-and wholly forbidden-moments in his arms to bother with that. "That isn't the point," she said firmly. "The point is that although last night did happen, it must not influence our behavior today. Today we ought-ought to be twice as correct in our behavior," she continued, a little desperately and illogically, "to atone for what happened last night!"
"Is that how it's done?" he asked, his eyes beginning to glint with amusement. "Somehow I didn't quite imagine you allowed convention to dictate your every move."
To a gambler without ties or responsibility, the rules of social etiquette and convention must be tiresome in the extreme, and Elizabeth realized it was imperative to convince him he must yield to her viewpoint. "Oh, but I am," she prevaricated. "The Camerons are the most conventional people in the world! As you know from last night, I believe in death before dishonor. We also believe in God and ~ Judith McNaught

Is there room for me to sit with y'all?"
Not really, but she was, after all, Miss Teen Ragland. And my sister.
"Sure," I said. "We'll make room."
I scrunched up next to Bird.
"It's a good thing I like you," she whispered. ~ Rachel Hawthorne

Miss Marshall, are you trying to tell me that you didn't dream of marrying a lord when you were young? That you didn't play at being a lady, imagining what it would be like to be waited on hand and foot? I thought every little girl with any inclination at all to marry dreamed of catching the eye of a lord."
"God, no." She looked horrified. "Farm girls who catch the eye of a lord don't end up married. If we're lucky, we don't end up pregnant. ~ Courtney Milan

Youth
You're young and there's still so much ahead. So much uncertainty and doubt. It keeps you up at night - this wild, restless feeling. But you don't know how free you are. For this short, miraculous time, you have no one to answer to, nothing to lose. You belong wholly to yourself. And even though some days you wish your world would stop spinning for a second, to let you catch your breath - believe me, someday you're going to look back on this and you're going to miss this feeling ~ Lang Leav

'Miss Rumphius' has been, perhaps, the closest to my heart. There are, of course, many dissimilarities between me and Alice Rumphius, but, as I worked, she gradually seemed to become my alter ego. Perhaps she had been that right from the start. ~ Barbara Cooney

Abby_Donovan: I bet you were one of those uber-cool teachers like Mr.Chip, weren't you?
MarkBaynard: I was more like Mr.Kotter or that guy from GLEE who looks like the love child of Orlando Bloom & Justin Timberlake.
Abby_Donovan: Your female students were probably writing "I love you" on their eyelids and listening to "Don't Stand So Close to Me" on their Walkmans.
[ ... ]
Abby_Donovan: Goodnight Mr.Schuester
MarkBaynard: Goodnight Miss Pillsbury
Abby_Donovan: Goodnight Puck
MarkBaynard: Goodnight Rachel
Abby_Donovan: Goodnight Kurt
MarkBaynard: Goodnight Quinn
Abby_Donovan: Goodnight Finn
MarkBaynard: Goodnight Sue Sylvester, you heartless but oddly sexy beast
Abby_Donovan: Goodnight Artie
MarkBaynard: Goodnight Tweetheart ... ~ Teresa Medeiros

Yes and I had heard it before. But what is that to me? If there is no other objection to my marrying your nephew, I shall certainly not be kept from it by knowing that his mother and aunt wished him to marry Miss de Bourgh. You both did as much as you could in planning the marriage. Its completion depended on others. If Mr. Darcy is neither by honour or inclination confined to his cousin, why not is he to make another choice? And if I am that choice, why may not I accept him? ~ Jane Austen

I swung around downtown and slowed down to miss a solitary drunk emerging blindly from the Tripoli bar and out upon the street in a sort of gangling somnambulistic trot, pursued on his way by the hollow roar of the juke box from the ghastly lit and empty bar. 'Sunstroke,' I murmured absently. 'Simply a crazed victim of the midnight sun.' As I parked my mud-spattered Coupe alongside the Miners' State Bank, across from my office over the dime store, I reflected that there were few more forlorn and lonely sounds than the midnight wail of a jukebox in a deserted small town, those raucous proclamations of joy and fun where, instead, there dwelt only fatigue and hangover and boredom. To me the wavering hoot of an owl sounded utterly gay by comparison. ~ Robert Traver

I sat down on my bed, trying to catch my breath, as Jenna opened the door. The Vandy stood there, glaring at us, and my heart plummeted. They knew. They'd sensed magic happening in here, and now they'd sent the Vandy to come collect us.
I sat there, trying not to pant in terror, while Jenna openly trembled.
"You were told to report to the greenhouse," the Vandy said, her eyes going back and forth between us. "Now, get your skinny butts down there."
You know when you have the most inappropriate reaction to something ever? I was so happy that we weren't being hauled off to be murdered that I burst out laughing. I mean, big, loud, honking laughter. Jenna shot me a panicked look as the Vandy's scowl got even darker. "What's so funny, Miss Mercer?"
I stood up on wobbly legs and did my best to stop cracking up. "Sorry, it's just, um…"
"You said 'butts,'" Jenna blurted out. "And Sophie's got a really immature sense of humor."
"Right," I said, seizing on that. "Butts. Ha ha!"
I think if the Vandy could have murdered us right then and there, she probably would have. Instead she just thrust one finger toward the staircase and said, "Move it."
We scrambled from the room. ~ Rachel Hawkins

You download it for free, we get charged back for it.
I know you're saying, "They won't know, they won't miss it,
Besides, I ain't a thief, they won't pay me a visit."
So, if I come to your job, take your corn on the cob,
And take a couple kernels off it, that would be alright with you? ~ Andre Benjamin

She entered the hall at the same time he did from the opposite side. With a cry that told her exactly how worried she'd been about him, she raced into his arms.
She could hear the reverberation of his laugh in his chest as he lifted her up and spun her in his arms. Still in his embrace, he set her feet back on the ground and pressed a quick kiss on her lips, the brevity of which she suspected was due to their audience. His voice was low and husky. "Miss me?"
-Kenneth Sutherland & Mary of Mar ~ Monica McCarty

Still, it was up to her to lure her victim to the rocky shore of loss by appealing to his vanity and challenging his manly pride.She smiled at herself in the mirror. "It isn't perfect, but 'twill have to do."
"Och,miss! Ye look as pretty as a princess." Mary opened the door and stood to one side. "Careful going down the stairs; yer pa pried up a board in the third step."
"On the steps? Someone could get injured."
"So he's hopin'."
Sophia frowned. "I'll have Angus fix it. I want MacLean to hate the house, not die in it."
"Men never think,miss. 'Tis a sad fact 'o life."
"Tell me about it," Sophia muttered. "Wish me luck. I've heard a lot about MacLean,none of it good. ~ Karen Hawkins

I asked her if she reckoned Tom Sawyer would go there, and she said not by a considerable sight. I was glad about that, because I wanted him and me to be together. Miss ~ Mark Twain

Believe me, a highly strung brain such as yours demands occasional relaxation from the strain of domestic surroundings. Forget for a little while that children want music lessons, and boots, and bicycles, with tincture of rhubarb three times a day; forget there are such things in life as cooks, and house decorators, and next-door dogs, and butchers' bills. Go away to some green corner of the earth, where all is new and strange to you, where your over-wrought mind will gather peace and fresh ideas. Go away for a space and give me time to miss you, and to reflect upon your goodness and virtue, which, continually present with me, I may, human-like, be apt to forget, as one, through use, grows indifferent to the blessing of the sun and the beauty of the moon. Go away, and come back refreshed in mind and body, a brighter, better man - if that be possible - than when you went away. ~ Jerome K. Jerome

One of my wishes is that those dark trees. So old and firm they scarcely show the breeze. Were not, as 'twere, the merest mask of gloom. But stretched away unto the edge of doom.
I should not be withheld but that some day into their vastness I should steal away. Fearless of ever finding open land, or highway where the slow wheel pours the sand.
I do not see why I should e'er turn back. Or those should not set forth upon my track. To overtake me, who should miss me here. And long to know if still I held them dear.
They would not find me changed from him they knew,-only more sure of all I though was true. ~ Robert Frost

Robert is, of course, at the theater, but it's true that Jeff isn't alone. Behind him, Lulu holds up two bottles of tequila, and behind her is Gene, Lulu's . . . bed-friend, holding a bag of limes and sporting the world's most enormous mustache.

I take the bag of limes from him. "Are you guessing my weight tonight?"

Jeff laughs in a loud bark before heading into the kitchen, but Gene does a bewildered double take. "What?"

"Do I get to shoot a water gun to knock down the ducks?"

I see the moment he gets it because his giant mustache twitches under his suppressed grin. "I'll take my limes home if you're going to be sassy, miss."

"You look like an old-timey auction barker," I say. "Or Yosemite Sam. I have this sudden urge to buy a few head of cattle." Behind me, Calvin snickers.

"You wish you could grow a 'stache like this."

I burst out laughing. "I'm sorry, I can't even hear what you're saying through that thing."

"I told him it's awful." Lulu tugs at it and Gene leans away.

He smoothes it down proudly. "I'm so lazy, and this is much more low maintenance than shaving."

I don't need to look that closely to see he's clearly waxed and styled it with a comb. It's really not an afterthought mustache; it's the kind that a person chooses from a book on various mustache styles - the perfect accessory for his very carefully crafted I don't care enough to even glance in the mirro ~ Christina Lauren

Why aren't you in school? I see you every day wandering around."
"Oh, they don't miss me," she said. "I'm antisocial, they say. I don't mix. It's so strange. I'm very social indeed. It all depends on what you mean by social, doesn't it? Social to me means talking to you about things like this." She rattled some chestnuts that had fallen off the tree in the front yard. "Or talking about how strange the world is. Being with people is nice. But I don't think it's social to get a bunch of people together and then not let them talk, do you? An hour of TV class, an hour of basketball or baseball or running, another hour of transcription history or painting pictures, and more sports, but do you know, we never ask questions, or at least most don't; they just run the answers at you, bing, bing, bing, and us sitting there for four more hours of film-teacher. That's not social to me at all. It's a lot of funnels and lot of water poured down the spout and out the bottom, and them telling us it's wine when it's not. They run us so ragged by the end of the day we can't do anything but go to bed or head for a Fun Park to bully people around, break windowpanes in the Window Smasher place or wreck cars in the Car Wrecker place with the big steel ball. Or go out in the cars and race on the streets, trying to see how close you can get to lampposts, playing 'chicken' and 'knock hubcaps.' I guess I'm everything they say I am, all right. I haven't any friends. That's supposed to prove I'm abn ~ Ray Bradbury

I live for the Red Sox. I thoroughly enjoy them. For whatever reason, baseball has been a lot more fun for me in recent years. I loosely follow the Patriots and I root for them. I loosely follow the Celtics and then it gets to playoff time and I don't miss a game. Same with the Bruins. I'm not the diehard fan anymore. ~ Doug Flutie

I would love nothing more than to marry you and live with you here in New York." "You will not miss England?" "There is nothing for me there," she said. "You have stolen my heart completely, Mr. Beckett, and I believe it is now yours forever. ~ Jen Turano

Asa's smell (the fragrance of a beautiful man) is what I miss the most.
[…]
Like a virus his smell entered me and changed my cells,
slowly, over years, until they craved only that smell, which was their oxygen. ~ Susanna Kaysen

Miss Grantham gave a shriek. 'You have trifled with me!' she said, into the folds of her handkerchief. 'You promised me marriage, and now you mean to cast me off for Another! ~ Georgette Heyer

Except for my net, everything I have need of in the world is contained in that bag - including a second hat and a rather sizable jar of cold cream of roses. Do not tell me you couldn't travel with as little. I have faith that men can be as reasonable and logical as women if they but try." He shook his head. "I cannot seem to formulate a clear thought in the face of such original thinking, Miss Speedwell. You have a high opinion of your sex." I pursed my lips. "Not all of it. We are, as a gender, undereducated and infantilized to the point of idiocy. But those of us who have been given the benefit of learning and useful occupation, well, we are proof that the traditional notions of feminine delicacy and helplessness are the purest poppycock."

"You have large opinions for so small a person."

"I daresay they would be large opinions even for someone your size," I countered.

"And where did you form these opinions? Either your school was inordinately progressive or your governess was a Radical."

"I never went to school, nor did I have a governess. Books were my tutors, Mr. Stoker. Anything I wished to learn I taught myself."

"There are limits to an autodidactic education," he pointed out.

"Few that I have found. I was spared the prejudices of formal educators."

"And neither were you inspired by them. A good teacher can change the course of a life," he said thoughtfully.

"Perhaps. But I had ~ Deanna Raybourn

He kissed me on the mouth, but it wasn't the kiss after the Pasquino, when he'd pressed me hard against the wall on via Santa Maria dell' Anima. I recognized the taste instantly. I'd never realized how much I liked it or how long I'd missed it. One more thing to log on that checklist of things I'd miss before losing him for good. ~ Andre Aciman

I didn't have time to lose it. I didn't have time to lie down in the corner shop and scream and beat the floor until my hands bled. I didn't have time to miss Jack. Stroma kept on chattering away and getting excited over novelty spaghetti shapes and finding the joy in every little thing, and it occurred to me even then that she was probably looking after me, too. ~ Jenny Valentine

You can't run away from your fears. Isn't that what you always tell your readers?"
I was an advice columnist for Vibe, a magazine about relationships and sex and urban culture. My column, called "Ask Miss Independent," had started at a student-run publication, and I had quickly developed a following. Upon graduating, I'd taken Miss Independent to Vibe, and they offered me a weekly feature. Most of my advice was posted publicly, but I also sent private paid-for replies to those who requested it. To supplement my income, I also did occasional freelancing for women's magazines.
"I'm not running away from my fears," I told Dane. "I'm running away from my relatives."
Ring.
"Just pick it up, Ella. You always tell people to face their problems."
"Yes, but I prefer to ignore mine and let them fester. ~ Lisa Kleypas

I miss talking to him. Every time I come across something I think he'd like, I just wish I could call him up or send him a text. Like the other day, I saw this movie, Coherence. It was about parallel universes, and I just know he'd love it. That's the thing; he's the ongly person i know who would appreciete it the same way I do. And I wish I could watch it with him and talk to him about it. Why is that so important to me? I don't get it. I didn't even think about all this before I knew him. ~ Lang Leav

We're all so happy you're feeling better, Miss McIntosh. Looks like you still have a good bump on your noggin, though," she says in her childlike voice.
Since there is no bump on my noggin, I take a little offense but decide to drop it. "Thanks, Mrs. Poindexter. It looks worse than it feels. Just a little tender."
"Yeah, I'd say the door got the worst of it," he says beside me. Galen signs himself in on the unexcused tardy sheet below my name. When his arm brushes against mine, it feels like my blood's turned into boiling water.
I turn to face him. My dreams really do not do him justice. Long black lashes, flawless olive skin, cut jaw like an Italian model, lips like-for the love of God, have some dignity, nitwit. He just made fun of you. I cross my arms and lift my chin. "You would know," I say.
He grins, yanks my backpack from me, and walks out. Trying to ignore the waft of his scent as the door shuts, I look to Mrs. Poindexter, who giggles, shrugs, and pretends to sort some papers. The message is clear: He's your problem, but what a great problem to have. Has he charmed he sense out of the staff here, too? If he started stealing kids' lunch money, would they also giggle at that? I growl through clenched teeth and stomp out of the office.
Galen is waiting for me right outside the door, and I almost barrel into him. He chuckles and catches my arm. "This is becoming a habit for you, I think."
After I'm steady-after Galen steadies me, that is-I po ~ Anna Banks

I suddenly knew that religion, God - something beyond everyday life - was there to be found, provided one is really willing. And I saw that though what I felt in the church was only imagination, it was a step on the way; because imagination itself can be a kind of willingness - a pretense that things are real, due to one's longing for them. It struck me that this was somehow tied up with what the Vicar said about religion being an extension of art - and then I had a glimpse of how religion can really cure you of sorrow; somehow make use of it, turn it to beauty, just as art can make sad things beautiful.

I found myself saying: 'Sacrifice is the secret - you have to sacrifice things for art and it's the same
with religion; and then the sacrifice turns out to be a gain.' Then I got confused and I couldn't hold on to what I meant - until Miss Blossom remarked: 'Nonsense, duckie - it's prefectly simple. You lose yourself in something beyond yourself and it's a lovely rest.'

I saw that, all right. Then I thought: 'But that's how Miss Marcy cured her sorrow, too - only she lost herself in other people instead of in religion.' Which way of life was best - hers or the Vicar's? I decided that he loves God and merely likes the villagers, whereas she loves the villagers and merely likes God - and then I suddenly wondered if I could combine both ways, love God and my neighbor equally. Was I really willing to? ~ Dodie Smith

My mother's hands were sixty-four years old, weathered, beautiful. They were soft and hard and they held no duplicity of emotion. They didn't love and hate. They were not tender and violent. They never offered me the world and handed me hell. They were constant: I miss them purely. ~ Maggie MacKellar

People have tried to put me in a box my whole life. I'm too tall. I'm too pretty. Too Miss USA. Wonder Woman. Prettiest woman in the world. And all of that. It doesn't matter because I've gone my own way and have tried to approach my career from a gut level, doing what I thought was right. ~ Lynda Carter

I can still smell you on my pillow. I can still see you standing in my room, the light caressing your smooth legs, your dark hair cascading over your shoulders, and your gorgeous mouth smiling so effortlessly. I miss you. I ache for you, and I'm bordering on crazy without you. Come back to me. ~ Renee Carlino

I explained to her that I had no parents. She inquired how long they had been dead: then how old I was, what was my name, whether I could read, write, and sew a little: then she touched my cheek gently with her forefinger, and saying, "She hoped I should be a good child," dismissed me along with Miss Miller. ~ Charlotte Bronte