Putul Nachon Er Putul Quotes

All the sufferings of men in the world is for love and affection.God has created skillfully this two soft wares.When God sends human beings on the mundane world to perform their own duty,He inserts this two soft wares into men-one type of computer and puppet in the hands of God. ~ Probir Kumar Mandal H.M

If you're a believer, God is not a thought-experiment requiring a special sub-creation to be tried out in. He's an actual, er, actuality already, embedded in a necessary and true story about guilt, hope, and liberty. I don't want C. S. Lewis doing his resourceful best to render Him as a fabulous special effect. ~ Francis Spufford

I was worried I'd scared you off," I said as I slid into the passenger seat. "Being too gay and all." "No - I, er ... " He hesitated, and I looked at him sharply. Well, slightly less bluntly, anyway. My head still hurt. "I don't have a problem with you being gay, Jude. I'm ... well, I'm into blokes myself." "You are?" I may have squeaked a bit. "But you're so ... " Butch, I should have said. And manly, and muscular, and gorgeous, and I bet you're hairy too in all the right places. What came out was, "Straight. ~ J.L. Merrow

I was living under a desk in West Hollywood. It was a closet that I shared with another comic. I was shocked when they called me to come in to try out for the show. The chances of me getting on a TV show and winning it is like one-in-a-million. I had only been doing comedy for six years at that point, so I was basically considered an open mic-er or maybe a feature act once in awhile. ~ Dat Phan

Turned my back to dip the cloth into the bowl, and said offhandedly over my shoulder, "Er, I did my legs, too." I stole a quick glance over my shoulder. The original shock was fading into a look of total bewilderment. "Your legs dinna smell like anything," he said. "Unless you've been walkin' knee-deep in the cow-byre. ~ Diana Gabaldon

But I say, really, you know, I am an old friend of the family. Why, by Jove, now I remember, there's a photograph of me in the drawing-room. Well, I mean, that shows you!"
"If there is," said the policeman.
"I've never seen it," said the parlourmaid.
I absolutely hated this girl.
"You would have seen it if you had done your dusting more conscientiously," I said severely. And I meant it to sting, by Jove!
"It is not a parlourmaid's place to dust the drawing-room," she sniffed haughtily.
"No," I said bitterly. "It seems to be a parlourmaid's place to lurk about and hang about and - er - waste her time fooling about in the garden with policemen who ought to be busy about their duties elsewhere."
"It's a parlourmaid's place to open the front door to visitors. Them that don't come in through windows."
I perceived that I was getting the loser's end of the thing. ~ P.G. Wodehouse

Well," he said, trying to sound as though he found the whole thing a joke, "if you want to
er
what is it?" (He checked Percy's letter.) "Oh yeah
'sever ties' with me, I swear I won't get violent."
"Give it back," said Ron, holding out his hand. He is
" Ron said jerkily, tearing Percy's letter in half, "the world's"
he tore it into quarters
"biggest"
he tore it into eighths
"git." He threw the pieces into the fire. ~ J.K. Rowling

Another morning Diana and I sat together on the window seat in our second-floor living room, looking out at a chilly, gray November day. She cleared her throat gently and asked, "Mrs. Robertson, I wonder if I might ask your advice on something, since you're so much . . . er, older and . . . wiser, I mean." She said that her grandmother had suggested to Diana that she seek help from Buckingham Palace in dealing with the press. Diana did not tell me that her grandmother was Lady Ruth Fermoy, a lady-in-waiting to the Queen Mother. Diana wanted to use our telephone to discuss this further with her grandmother. In the meantime, "Do you think I should ask Charles for help, Mrs. Robertson?" She was quite calm and in control; she simply wanted another opinion.
I thought for a minute, then told her, "I wouldn't ask for help if I could possibly manage without it. If the palace thinks you can't handle the pressure now, they might think you couldn't handle it once you're part of the royal family. If you're serious about this romance, you should try to struggle along on your own." That conversation took place in early November on the day that the photograph of Diana pushing Patrick up the mews in his stroller was taken. It is my favorite photograph of the two of them because it reminds me of the trust she demonstrated that day.
I clearly recall thinking at that point, "This child needs a mother for guidance. ~ Mary Robertson

Honestly, I cannot understand what people mean when they talk about the freedom of the human will. I have a feeling, for instance, that I will something or other; but what relation this has with freedom I cannot understand at all. I feel that I will to light my pipe and I do it; but how can I connect this up with the idea of freedom? What is behind the act of willing to light the pipe? Another act of willing? Schopenhauer once said: Der Mensch kann was er will; er kann aber nicht wollen was er will (Man can do what he will but he cannot will what he wills). ~ Albert Einstein

At this point the door of the hospital room swung open and Lieutenant Adam Burke strode into the room, followed by a couple of uniformed officers. He glared at Andy Winslow. "You left the scene of the crime, Winslow."

Andy looked innocently at the cop. "I did?"

"You know damned well you did. Who the hell do you think you are, letting a corpse into the house and then leaving her there on the floor to die."

Andy grinned. "What corpse would that be, Lieutenant?"

"This one!" Burke jabbed a thumb at the slight figure on the bed.

"You mean Miss Mayhew, Lieutenant? I don't think Miss Mayhew is dead. Are you dead Miss Mayhew?"

The slim woman managed a wan, tiny smile. "I don't think I'm dead. I don't even feel sick. I do have a dreadful headache, though."

Andy Winslow grinned, "You're entitled to that." Then, to the cop, "It's true that Miss Mayhew was shot at Caligula Foxx's house. I though it was more important to make sure that she was all right, than to wait around for New York's Slowest -- er pardon me, I mean New York's Finest - to arrive. ~ Richard A. Lupoff

"Repeat that?"
"It's National Talk Like a Pirate Day. Didn't you know?"
"Somehow I missed the memo."
"You mean, 'Somehow I missed the memo, arrr!'"
"Precisely. Arr. So, Mrs. Jack ... Er, is that still your name? Or, I tremble to ask, have you adopted a pirate identity?"
"Arr, matey, of course I have! It's ... " She pulled an eggplant from the grocery bag. "Captain Eggplantier." She needed to stop speaking the first words that popped into her mind.
"Captain Eggplanteir." He sounded very doubtful.
"That's right. A family name. It's Belgian. ~ Shannon Hale

I grew up in Dallas, with cowboys. I was the only guy in sixth grade with long hair and an earring. Let's just say I got a lot of, er, flak for being different. ~ Barry Watson

Even if you're doing the national insurance awards, there's still that excitement when you wonder who is going to win, er, best premiums. ~ Jimmy Carr

The idea that the word of God should be permitted to calcify slowly into a language normal people can't read is one of the reasons we had a Protestant Reformation, a movement launched by a monk whose first act a er defying a church council with, "My conscience is captive to the word of God" was to hole himself up in Wartburg castle and translate the Bible into German. There he sat; he could do no other. ~ Mark L. Ward Jr.

My my Laura Goodman. I must say that is a charming name for a charming young lady."
"Eric's old." I broke in. "Really really old."
"Er - really?" Laura asked. "Gosh you don't look even out of your thirties."
"Tons of face-lifts. He's a surgical addict. I'm trying to get him help." I added defensively when they both gave me strange looks. ~ MaryJanice Davidson

No, Mo," Miss Watkins said, turning to Nesta who was crying with laughter. "Nesta Williams, seeing as you clearly find it so funny. What do you think the name of God might be?"
"Er, not sure," said Nesta, looking caught out. "What do you think?"
"I don't think," said Miss Watkins."I know."
"I don't think I know either," giggled Nesta. The whole class got detention, but it was worth it. I felt like i'd spent the whole morning laughing my head off
We never did get to know what God's name was. ~ Cathy Hopkins

Tell me one thing. Has Rider Sinclair done something to hurt you in any way? If he has,I'll shoot that man!"
Willow was taken aback by Miriam's vehemence. "No,no," she hastily assured. "He might have hurt my feelings some but that's all."
"I noticed he wasn't being very gentlemanly, but I overlooked it because I thought perhaps he was still showing his temper over the Scofield incident."
"You're probably right. But, Miriam, this ain't, er,isn't about Sinclair, not entirely anyway. It's about me." Willow's smile was sad. "Being a man would be easier and a hell of a lot more fun but I ain't built right. So, I want you to teach me how to look and act like a fine and proper lady. You will, won't you?"
Merry chuckles bubbled and rolled out of Miriam. "Oh, Willow!" More chuckles. "I know I shouldn't laugh right now, but I can't help myself. You say the most awful things!"
Willow didn't know if she should be insulted or not, but since it was Miriam laughing at her, she gave her the benefit of the doubt. "I know my wanting to be a real lady is funny, but not that funny."
"No,no." Miriam laughed, gasping for breath. "No that, the part about you're not being built right. ~ Charlotte McPherren

I just hitch up my girdle and let 'er fly. ~ Babe Didrikson Zaharias

Last night ... I'm sorry if I was too forward with you." He paused. "Celaena, you're grimacing."
Had she been making a face? "Er- sorry."
"It did upset you, then!"
"What did?"
"The kiss!"
... "Oh, it was nothing," she said, thumping her chest as she cleared her throat. "I didn't mind it. But I didn't hate it, if that's what your thinking!" She immediately regretted saying it.
"So, you liked it?" He grinned lazily.
"No! Oh, go away!" She flung herself onto her pillows, pulling the blankets over her head. She was going to die from embarrassment. ~ Sarah J. Maas

Ach. Now, there be a lass with a bonny look to 'er. And I'm thinking it's nae me she's coming to see. ~ Karen Witemeyer

Jason. My best friend from childhood. The boy - er, man - who should be ten hours away in Kodiak, Alaska, rather than here in Anchorage.

The man staring at my naked legs.
And I'm standing here in my panties and baby-doll T, which clearly shows I'm not wearing a bra, especially as Alaska is cold in February and the door gapes wide open. ~ Rita J. Webb

You've been shot," she tells Rachel.
"You shot me, you crazy bit - "
"We don't have time for the ER protocol crap, Mom," I cut in. "She knows she's been shot. She's alert. Help. Her."
Mom nods. She looks at Rachel's clenched fist where it's balled against her lower stomach. "I'm sorry I shot you. I need to look at that. Please."
Rachel gives her The Stank Eye. Rachel is very good at The Stank Eye.
"I'm a nurse, remember?" Mom says, her voice dripping with impatience. "I can help you."
Rachel inhales and eases her hand away from her stomach, but I can't bring myself to look at it so I just watch Mom's face to maybe gauge how bad the wound is. I imagine dark blood and entrails and…
"What the…?" Mom gasps. As an ER nurse, Mom's seen a lot of things. But by her expression, she's never seen this. I'm thinking it must be way serious. Also, I'm thinking I might throw up.
Until Rachel slaps a handcuff around Mom's wrist. "I'm sorry, Nalia. I hope you understand." Then she clinks the other end of the cuff around her own wrist. I steal a glance at Rachel's very clean, very intact, very non-bloody-entrails T-shirt.
Rachel is a smart woman.
Mom lunges for her, hands aiming for her throat. Rachel pulls some karate-chop-move thing and slams Mom against the door behind her. "Knock it off, hon. I don't want to really hurt you."
"You…you told Galen you'd been shot," I stammer. "I heard you tell him that. Why would you lie to him?"
Ra ~ Anna Banks

Jud threw down the turfs he had brought in. "If you learned her to hold 'er tongue," he said pettishly to his wife, "'twould be a sight betterer than learning 'er that. If you learned 'er manners, how to speak respectable to folk and answer respectable an' be respectable to her elders an' betters, 'twould be a sight betterer than that. Then ye could pat yourself on the 'ead and say, 'Thur, I'm doing a tidy job, learning her to be respectable.' But what are 'ee doing? Tedn't 'ard to answer. Tedn't 'ard to see. You're learning her to be sassy. ~ Winston Graham

What's with the strange clothes?"
I smile through my labored breath, pleased to be making progress. "Where I'm from, you'd be the one dressed strangely."
Thank goodness, she slows a bit. "And what planet is that again?"
"Er. Canada. ~ Cyn Balog

Caitlyn, s'il vous plait!" Madame said, whacking the blackboard with her stick, its end pointing to the irregular verb devoir, "to have to." She
wanted Caitlyn to conjugate it.
Caitlyn felt the class's attention turn to her, and a clammy sweat broke out in her armpits. Her brain stopped in its tracks, unable to move under
the pressure. A vague sense of having known how to speak French in her dreams tickled at her brain, but the skill was as lost to her in the waking
world as was Raphael.
"Devoir," Caitlyn croaked. "Er. Je dev? Tu dev?"
Madame gaped at her, horrified.
Caitlyn shook her head; she knew those words were wrong. "Er … I mean, uh …" And then out of nowhere came, "Egli deve, lei dovrebbe …"
These words felt right. He must, she must …
Several girls burst into laughter.
"What?" Caitlyn demanded.
"You're speaking Italian!" one girl shrieked, and collapsed into hysterical giggles. ~ Lisa Cach

Of course, I'm not a doctor; I just watch a lot of ER and House. ~ Tucker Max

Prosperity obscures rather than reveals how much fallen humans love God. "Blessings" easily turn into curses as sinners subtly ( or not so subtly) come to love and trust the blessings more than the bless-er. ~ Jon Bloom

Bacon. Let's talk about bacon. There's no meat more glorious than bacon. You can add it to pasta instead of cheese. You can stick it in a sandwich, er ... instead of cheese. ~ Rob Manuel

Ah, is this thing that you call tinola a variety of lotus which makes people - er - forgetful? ~ Jose Rizal

If you ask me if I'm imagining it again, I'm going to punch you out, Dead Man Walking."
Michael raised his eyebrows and glanced at Eve. "He doesn't sound crazy."
"Er," she clarified, "crazier. He sounds like he's back to normal, which is baseline crazy. ~ Rachel Caine

When the bishop farted we were amused to hear about it. Should the ploughboy find treasure we must be told. But when the ploughboy farts ... er ... keep it to yourself. ~ Kingsley Amis

You don't let your feelings run around and jump into someone else's hand." Mercury made a fist. "You grab on to your own life and push it around where you want it to go."

Mercury believed she had her life firmly in place beneath her tongue, and she didn't spit it out here and there, in bits and pieces diffusing its power. She had even taken a new name, changing it from Anna to Mercury after er granddaughter brought home a copy of the periodic table in the eighth grade and explained it to her: "An element is a substance that can't be broken down into simpler substances."

"That's my story," Mercury told Charlene. running her thick forefinger across the chart. "I'm all of a piece."

Charlene opened her mouth to object, to explain that her grandmother could never be one of the chemical elements, assigned an atomic number and measured for atomic weight, but Mercury presided over the kitchen like a force of nature. Charlene's words were snatched from her mind before they ever made it to her vocal chords. She imagined they were pulled into the woman's energy field, the electric air surrounding Mercury's body like her own personal atmosphere. ~ Susan Power

Tell a lie enough times and it becomes the truth ~ Er.teji

Oh, there's so much ego with men; in their head, they can't possibly think about Tesco's when they are doing Othello. Er, why not? They want to think that they are such geniuses they can't muddy their day with domesticity, and I've got no truck with it whatsoever. ~ Lesley Manville

A woman never loves to any man, she only controls him ~ Er.teji

Ponder and his fellow students watched Hex carefully.
'It can't just, you know, stop,' said Adrian 'Mad Drongo' Tumipseed.
'The ants are just standing still,' said Ponder. He sighed. 'All right, put the wretched thing back.'
Adrian carefully replaced the small fluffy teddy bear above Hex's keyboard. Things immediately began to whirr. The ants started to trot again. The mouse squeaked.
They'd tried this three times.
Ponder looked again at the single sentence Hex had written.
+++ Mine! Waaaah +++
'I don't actually think,' he said, gloomily, 'that I want to tell the Archchancellor that this machine stops working if we take its fluffy teddy bear away. I just don't think I want to live in that kind of world.'
'Er,' said Mad Drongo, 'you could always, you know, sort of say it needs to work with the FTB enabled...
'You think that's better?' said Ponder, reluctantly. It wasn't as if it was even a very realistic interpretation of a bear.
'You mean, better than "fluffy teddy bear"?'
Ponder nodded. 'It's better,' he said. ~ Terry Pratchett

Six months later, I was poor, pregnant, and married to a man who read Dogfu**er magazine. ~ Rebecca O'Donnell

What's not right about her, Farley?" she asked curiously.
An annoyed humph. A few ahems, then a thoroughly miffed, "She's a fine enough lass, that is, when one is able to actually look at her, but"
he broke off with a deeply aggrieved sigh and cleared his throat several times before continuing
"'twould appear she's haveing, er ... solidity problems. ~ Karen Marie Moning

I looked at her quizzically. "No, why would you think so?"
She gave me a knowing smile. "'Cause he's never brought a girl here before, child. Not one who didn't need my help, leastways."
Oh! That pleased me, but I quashed it. "It's not like that. We, ah, we kind of work together. I'm not his, er, what I mean is, he's all yours if you want him!" I finished in an insane babble.
There was a disgruntled grunt from upstairs that didn't come from the girl. I cringed, but it was too late to take it back. ~ Jeaniene Frost

Yeah!" said the Dean, now in a grip of a wild, unwizardly machismo. "We're mean! Yeah! Are we mean?"
The Archchancellor raised his eyebrows, and then turned to the rest of the wizards.
"Are we mean?" he said.
"Er.. I'm feeling reasonably mean," said the Lecturer of Recent Runes.
"I'm definitely very mean, I think," said the Bursar. "It's having no boots that does it," he added.
"I'll be mean if everyone else is," said the Senior Wrangler.
The Archchancellor turned back to the Dean.
"Yes," he said, "it appears that we are all mean."
"Yo!" said the Dean.
"Yo what?" said Ridcully.
"It's not a yo what, it's just a yo," said the Senior Wrangler, behind him. "It's a general street greeting and affirmative with convivial military ingroup and masculine bonding-ritual overtones."
"What? What, like 'jolly good'?" said Ridcully.
"I suppose so..." said the Senior Wrangler, reluctantly. ~ Terry Pratchett

Sebastian nodded his way. "This is Hadrian … er, Hadrian…" He snapped his fingers and looked for help.

"Blackwater." He extended his hand and shook with each.

"And where do you hail from, Hadrian?" Eugene asked.

"Nowhere really."

"A man with no home?" Samuel's voice was nasal and a bit suspicious. Hadrian imagined him the type of man to count money handed him by a priest.

"What do you mean?" Eugene asked. "He came off the boat from Calis. We talked about it just last night."

"Don't be a fool, Eugene," Sebastian said. "Do you think Calians have sandy hair and blue eyes? Calians are swarthy brutes and clever beyond measure. Never trust one, any of you."

"What were you doing in Calis, then?" Eugene's tone was inquisitorial and spiteful, as if Hadrian had been the one to declare him foolish.

"Working."

"Making his fortune, I suspect," Sebastian said, motioning toward Hadrian. "The man wears a heavy purse. You should be half as successful, Eugene."

"All Calian copper dins, I'll wager." Eugene sustained his bitter tone. "If not, he'd have a fine wool robe like us."

"He wears a fine steel sword, two of them in fact. So you might consider your words more carefully," Sebastian said.

"Three," Samuel added. "He keeps another in his cabin. A big one."

"There you have it, Eugene. The man spends all his coin on steel, but by all means g ~ Michael J. Sullivan