Schoolgirl Quotes

You don't know what the hell you look like when you're just some little schoolgirl. ~ Sara Sheridan

Asians love schoolgirls in uniforms. They say the Japanese can buy used schoolgirl panties from vending machines. And from shops hidden away in apartment buildings. Burusera shops, they call them. The smell is very important; it adds value to the commodity. I wonder how Marx would have dealt with that? ~ David Cronenberg

They made a major mistake," he blurted out, "the dumb bastards, when they didn't start by killing you first."
"Benjamin Thomas Parish, that was the sweetest and most bizarre compliment anyone's ever given me."
I kissed him on the cheek. He kissed me on the mouth.
"You know," I whispered, "a year ago, I would have sold my soul for that."
He shook his head. "Not worth it." And, for one-ten thousandth of a second, all of it fell away, the despair and grief and anger and pain and hunger, and the old Ben Parish rose from the dead. The eyes that impaled. The smile that slayed. In another moment, he would fade, slide back into the new Ben, the one called Zombie, and I understood something I hadn't before: He was dead, the object of my schoolgirl desires, just as the schoolgirl who desired him was dead. ~ Rick Yancey

I want to share something Virginia Woolf wrote: 'English, which can express the thoughts of Hamlet and the tragedy of Lear, has no words for the shiver and the headache...The merest schoolgirl when she falls in love, has Shakespeare or Keats to speak her mind for her; but let a sufferer try to describe a pain in his head to a doctor and language at once runs dry.' And we're such language-based creatures that to some extent we cannot know what we cannot name. And so we assume it isn't real. We refer to it with catch-all terms, like crazy or chronic pain, terms that both ostracize and minimize. The term chronic pain captures nothing of the grinding, constant, ceaseless,inescapable hurt. And the term crazy arrives at us with none of the terror and worry you live with. Nor do either of those terms connote the courage people in such pains exemplify, which is why I'd ask you to frame your mental health around a word other than crazy. ~ John Green

Now his response was merely to detach himself from personal contact. Looking back, she could not remember a conversation veering on the intimate from which he had not withdrawn immediately. He had had of course, in the past, more than enough of being devoured alive by the consuming interest of his admirers. A boy called Will Scott, back in Scotland. An Archer, they said, called Robin Stewart. Jerott, perhaps, long ago. Small wonder that Francis Crawford today took routine precautions to repel invaders.

And of course, that was it. Standing there, her eyes blank in the fog, Philippa saw plainly so much which had escaped her. The dismissals she had suffered; the exchanges he had broken off; the measures he took, when he remembered, to dampen the ardour of any impressionable fool who might dream of clinging to him.

Such as herself. She remembered the ringed, picturesque hands on which she had fixed her eyes, and their abrupt withdrawal. It was not only in the eyes of the world that her pursuit of Lymond was being put down to a blossoming schoolgirl devotion. Warily, Lymond himself had considered it time to start taking precautions. ~ Dorothy Dunnett

It seems to me that, later on, neither I nor anyone else will be interested in the chatterings of a 13-year-old schoolgirl ... ~ Anne Frank

I swear to fuck, Alex. If you keep playing with your asshole I'm going to play with it for you."
"You were touching yourself."
"I creamed my jeans like a schoolgirl, Alex. You came with no touching. You looked like... You're a natural."
"A natural," Alex repeats, trying to wrap his mind around that. Natural porn performer? Natural bottom? Neither really sounds that prestigious, but Peter's talking about it like he just won the World Series of Taking Big Cocks Up the Butt. ~ Emory Vargas

He went to look closely at the painting, which portrayed a parade of fat white geese strolling past the doorway of a cottage.
"Someday I'll be able to afford real art," Garrett said, coming to stand beside him. "In the meantime, we'll have to make do with this."
Ethan's attention was drawn to the tiny initials in the corner of the work: G.G. A slow smile broke over his face. "You painted it?"
"Art class, at boarding school," she admitted. "I wasn't bad at sketching, but the only subject I could manage to paint adequately was geese. At one point I tried to expand my repertoire to ducks, but those earned lower marks, so it was back to geese after that."
Ethan smiled, imagining her as a studious schoolgirl with long braids. The light of a glass-globe parlor lamp slid across the tidy pinned-up weight of her hair, bringing out gleams of red and gold. He'd never seen anything like her skin, fine and powerless, with a faint glow like a blush-colored garden rose.
"What gave you the idea to paint geese in the first place?" he asked.
"There was a goose pond across from the school," Garrett said, staring absently at the picture. "Sometimes I saw Miss Primrose at the front windows, watching with binoculars. One day I dared to ask her what she found so interesting about geese, and she told me they had a capacity for attachment and grief that rivaled humans. They mated for life, she said. If a goose was injured, the gander would stay with her even if the rest ~ Lisa Kleypas

I traced the outline of the Sharpie schoolgirl on the mouse pad, thinking. Talking on a telephone was like talking with your eyes closed. It made you braver and more honest, because it was like talking to yourself. It was why I'd always sung my new songs with my eyes closed. I didn't want to see what the audience thought of them until I was done. Finally, I said, "I've been trying not to be my father my entire life. Not because he's so horrible, but because he's so impressive. Anything - anything I do can't possibly compare. ~ Maggie Stiefvater

[N]obody is a greater schoolgirl in spirit than a cynic. Cynics can not relinquish the rubbish they were taught as children: they hold tight to the belief that the word [sic] has meaning and, when things go wrong for them, they consequently adopt the inverse attitude. ~ Muriel Barbery

It is, after all, far too easy to pinch and kick the bizarre Mormon Church; to say it's ripe for satire and parody is to say a Catholic schoolgirl is ripe for debauchery. It's like shooting polygamist fish in a barrel of coffee. ~ Mark Morford

A schoolgirl forbidden from school is like a bird forbidden from the sky. ~ J.L. Harlow,"Malala Yousafzai"

Writing in a diary is a really strange experience for someone like me. Not only because I've never written anything before, but also because it seems to me that later on neither I nor anyone else will be interested in the musings of a thirteen-year-old schoolgirl. ~ Anne Frank

Theo looked at me with his smoldering Jesus eyes, and the Catholic schoolgirl in me crossed her legs. ~ Gabrielle Zevin

Boredom!!! Shooting!!! Shelling!!! People being killed!!! Despair!!! Hunger!!! Misery!!! Fear!!! That's my life! The life of an innocent eleven-year-old schoolgirl!! A schoolgirl without a school, without the fun and excitement of school. A child without games, without friends, without the sun, without birds, without nature, without fruit, without chocolate or sweets, with just a little powdered milk. In short, a child without a childhood. ~ Zlata Filipovic

Now, when it was too late, and Life's shops were closed, he regretted not having bought a certain book he had always wanted; never having gone through an earthquake, a fire, a train accident; never having seen Tatsienlu in Tibet, or heard blue magpies chattering in Chinese willows; not having spoken to that errant schoolgirl with shameless eyes, met one day in a lonely glade; not having laughed at the poor little joke of a shy ugly woman, when no one had laughed in the room; having missed trains, allusions, and opportunities; not having handed the penny he had in his pocket to that old street violinist playing to himself tremulously on a certain bleak day in a certain forgotten town. ~ Vladimir Nabokov

I pleaded, like a naughty schoolgirl persuading the class swots to bunk off for the afternoon. ~ Tabitha McGowan

When I was a schoolgirl my safe haven was a place at the uninhabited part of my parents' house. I used to climb up to the large windowsill that was facing a spreading plum-tree in the garden. Reading books, or penning my own stories, diaries and poems, it was especially fun to rest there during the warmer seasons of the year with an open window, when the tree was all covered with tender, odorous blossom in spring, and with rich purple fruitage in summer. ~ Sahara Sanders

Our eyes met and his grin stretched another quarter-inch. Another schoolgirl flip
followed by a very un-schoolgirl wave of heat. He leaned even farther over the boards, lips parting to say something.
"Hey, Kris!" someone yelled behind him. "If you want to flirt with Eve, tell her to meet you in the penalty box. You'll be back there soon enough. ~ Kelley Armstrong

Thai prostitution was a haven for the men and a nuisance for the women. The streets of Phuket were outlined with bars ready to nourish thirsty sailors with euphoric intoxication to smother their pinched nerves from their personal lives deteriorating in their six-month absence.
Thailand truly lived up to its port reputation. Hundreds of bikini-clad prostitutes littered the strip. Slim and petite, their narrow hips and flat chests appeared to be the appropriate age for the pink plaid schoolgirl skirts, dress shirts, ties, and pigtails intended to entice pedophilic eroticism. They wore heavy coats of pastel liquid shadow that clashed against their yellow tinted tans. They awkwardly wiggled to a nauseating blend of techno and Reggaeton as cotton-haired granddaddies lustfully gawked at them. Any Caucasian male cannot trek a block without the treatment of a pop culture heartthrob with a trail of Thai teens at his heels.
"Wan hunnet baaht!" they taunt in a nasal screech. "Wan hunnet baht and I suck yo cock!"
The oriental beauties cup their fists and hold them to their mouths as they wiggle their tongues against their cheeks to provide a clear visual for their performance skills.
It's easy to dismiss the humanity in Thai prostitutes. Their splotchy, heavily accented English allows the language barrier to muffle signs of intellect. They're overtly sexual in their crotch bearing ensembles, loud and vulgar invitations, and provocative dancing that makes even corn ~ Maggie Georgiana Young

These Claudines, then…they want to know because they believe they already do know, the way one who loves fruit knows, when offered a mango from the moon, what to expect; and they expect the loyal tender teasing affection of the schoolgirl crush to continue: the close and confiding companionship, the pleasure of the undemanding caress, the cuddle which consummates only closeness; yet in addition they want motherly putting right, fatherly forgiveness and almost papal indulgence; they expect that the sights and sounds, the glorious affairs of the world which their husbands will now bring before them gleaming like bolts of silk, will belong to the same happy activities as catching toads, peeling back tree bark, or powdering the cheeks with dandelions and oranging the nose; that music will ravish the ear the way the trill of the blackbird does; that literature will hold the mind in sweet suspense the way fairy tales once did; that paintings will crowd the eye with the delights of a colorful garden, and the city streets will be filled with the same cool dew-moist country morning air they fed on as children. But they shall not receive what they expect; the tongue will be about other business; one will hear in masterpieces only pride and bitter contention; buildings will have grandeur but no flowerpots or chickens; and these Claudines will exchange the flushed cheek for the swollen vein, and instead of companionship, they will get sex and absurd games composed of pinch, leer, and gig ~ William H. Gass

Sitting alone with Jean, Avery felt for the first time that he was part of the world, engaged in the same simple happiness that was known to so many and was so miraculous. He wanted to know everything; he did not mean this carelessly. He wanted to know the child and the schoolgirl, what she'd believed in and what she'd loved, what she'd worn and what she'd read
no detail was too small or insignificant
so that when at last he touched her, his hands would have this intelligence. ~ Anne Michaels

I might look like a honey-eyed schoolgirl on the outside, in my skirt with its regulation four-inches-above-the-knee hem. But I'll rip those tassels off your shoes, old man. Just try Googling me. ~ Meg Cabot

For someone like me,
it is a very strange habit to write in a diary.
Not only that I have never written before,
but it strikes me that later neither I,
nor anyone else,
will care for the outpouring
of a thirteen year old schoolgirl. ~ Anne Frank

Oh, I'm going to take them," said Miss Cornelia. "Of course, I was glad to, but Mary would have given me no peace till I asked them any way. The Ladies' Aid is going to clean the manse from top to bottom before the bride and groom come back, and Norman Douglas has arranged to fill the cellar with vegetables. Nobody ever saw or heard anything quite like Norman Douglas these days, believe ME. He's so tickled that he's going to marry Ellen West after wanting her all his life. If I was Ellen - but then, I'm not, and if she is satisfied I can very well be. I heard her say years ago when she was a schoolgirl that she didn't want a tame puppy for a husband. There's nothing tame about Norman, believe ME. ~ L.M. Montgomery

I didn't understand the American fascination with the Japanese schoolgirl. No, I don't think I can, really. ~ Chiaki Kuriyama

Fascination with horses predated every other single thing I knew. Before I was a mother, before I was a writer, before I knew the facts of life, before I was a schoolgirl, before I learned to read, I wanted a horse. ~ Jane Smiley

The adolescent frequently supposes that she is breaking out of the confines of her mundane, schoolgirl existence simply in order to break rules and defy authority ... She rids herself of the "oughts" and "musts" that convert every minor infraction into a sin of omission or commission. It certainly does not occur to her or to her family that by questioning the moral standards she erected as a child she is taking the first steps in her journey toward a firmer, more reasonable, less harsh, more ethical form of conscience. ~ Louise J. Kaplan

Do you know, when I am with you I am not afraid at all. It is a magic altogether curious that happens inside the heart. I wish I could take it with me when I leave.

It is sad, my Grey. We are constrained by the rules of this Game we play. There is not one little place under those rules for me to be with you happily. Or apart happily, which is what makes it so unfair.

I have discovered a curious fact about myself. An hour ago I was sure you were dead, and it hurt very much. Now you are alive, and it is only that I must leave you, and I find that even more painful. That is not at all logical.

Do you know the Symposium, Grey? The Symposium of Plato. [He] says that lovers are like two parts of an egg that fit together perfectly. Each half is made for the other, the single match to it. We are incomplete alone. Together, we are whole. All men are seeking that other half of themselves. Do you remember?

I think you are the other half of me. It was a great mix-up in heaven. A scandal. For you there was meant to be a pretty English schoolgirl in the city of Bath and for me some fine Italian pastry cook in Palermo. But the cradles were switched somehow, and it all ended up like this…of an impossibility beyond words.

I wish I had never met you. And in all my life I will not forget lying beside you, body to body, and wanting you. ~ Joanna Bourne

I would expect such behavior from the children,not from their mother."
She tsked at him, not even a little daunted. "Aren't you the least bit curious?"
"Certainly,but I can wait until-"
"But I can't wait," she cut in passionately. "Come with me, Warren. I'll be careful with it. And if it's nothing more'n a simple gift, albeit a mysterious one, then I'll have the box wrapped up again perfectly, so no one will know we tampered with it."
"You're serious about this?" he asked. "You're actually going to sneak downstairs in the middle of the night like an errant schoolgirl-"
"No,no,we are, like two perfectly sensible adults making a reasonable effort to solve a mystery that has been around far too long."
He chuckled at that point, used to his wife's strange logic, and used to her ignoring any of his attempts at sternness.But then that was the magic of Amy.She was unlike any other woman he'd ever known.
He gave in gracefully with a smile. "Very well,fetch our robes and some shoes.I would imagine the fire has been banked in the parlor, so it will be a mite chilly."
It wasn't that long before they were standing next to The Present, Warren merely curious, Amy finding it hard to contain her excitement, considering what she expected to find beneath the pretty cloth wrapping.The parlor wasn't chilly at all,since whoever had lef the room last had closed the doors to contain the earlier warmth, and Warren had closed them again before he lit several of ~ Johanna Lindsey

QUESTION: Are you suggesting that history is irrelevant, then, and the temporal span of humankind merely the recycling of tropes?
ANSWER: Well, I think it's two things. It's always two things, unless it's three. The first thing is moms and martyrs are the way we will think, just as when we dance we tend to tango. Jung suspected as much, you know, and every story could, I suppose, be seen as such a spyglass. Second, either there is or there isn't, point-blank, and if there is not, and something besides lead backs our philosophies, then previously Truth flashed its temper like a fictitious schoolgirl showing her panties, then went all cowboy cool in the neonew, barely speaking, keeping mum, despite the fact we's done forgot dear mammy, savoring the slow satisfying burn of a cigarette before the bonfire of a billion bodies, and still millions more wait their turn, we're better at keeping our appointments, at any rate, skinny corpses stripped of teeth and hair and skin, difference plucked like daisies, for there is no difference; in ether words, to hear the Great Apes tell it, every plague is one for the pointless and every poppy's got jack to do with Us. Hoohah! A particularly ballsy bit of business given the most recent nearing too close, we're singing our rondel with a bellyful of gravy and sourmash, we're at the highpocked end, and there's no more to come, come the dawn. Though bear in mind we've no pret-a-porter poodle sniffing around here, nossir, we're not afraid to s ~ Vanessa Place

I sunk to my knees like the obedient Catholic schoolgirl I was raised to be ~ Veronica J. Dantes

So: 'Why did you laugh?' demanded Philippa, and shook Jerott's hand off her arm.

'Oh, that?' said Lymond. 'But, my dear child, the picture was irresistible. Daddy, afflicted but purposeful, ransacking the souks of the Levant for one of his bastards, with an unchaperoned North Country schoolgirl aged - what? twelve? thirteen? - to help change its napkins when the happy meeting takes place.… A gallant thought, Philippa,' said Lymond kindly, sitting down at the table. 'And a touching faith in mankind. But truly, all the grown-up ladies and gentlemen would laugh themselves into bloody fluxes over the spectacle. Have some whatever-it-is. ~ Dorothy Dunnett

I am no longer content to be the scared, obedient schoolgirl. Who are you, a stranger, to tell me what I can and cannot do? ~ Libba Bray

And when the blush of a schoolgirl's cheeks was mistaken for the crimson of a holy man's fingers, it was the schoolgirl who was called hussy, tramp, slut. ~ Jonathan Safran Foer

Himmler wants to send an expedition to Tibet to look for ancient manuscripts on the Aryans. The man is like a little schoolgirl. What culture is there in an old jug, I ask you? ~ Adolf Hitler

I still have my school friends who are actually friends. It's nice that they don't think much about my singing career. They think it is cool, and they are happy for me, but they don't really bother me about it. To them, I'm still just the schoolgirl from next door. ~ Jackie Evancho

This girl sparks my sadistic side. ~ Shinjirou

I breathed in a deep dose of night air, trying to calm my schoolgirl nervousness. "I, umm…" I began. "I decided to stick around here a little while." There. I'd said it. This was all officially real.
Without a moment of hesitation, Marlboro Man wrapped his ample arms around my waist. Then, in what seemed to be less than a second, he hoisted me from my horizontal position on the bed of his pickup until we were both standing in front of each other. Scooping me off my feet, he raised me up to his height so his icy blue eyes were level with mine.
"Wait…are you serious?" he asked, taking my face in his hands. Squaring it in front of his. Looking me in the eye. "You're not going?"
"Nope," I answered.
"Whoa," he said, smiling and moving in for a long, impassioned kiss on the back of his Ford F250. "I can't believe it," he continued, squeezing me tightly.
Our knees buckled under the heat, and before I knew it we were back where we'd been before, rolling around and kissing manically in the bed of his diesel pickup. Occasionally my arm would hit a crowbar and my head would slam against a spare tire or a cattle prod or a jack; I didn't care, of course. I'd said what I wanted to say that night. Everything else--even minor head injuries--was a piece of cake.
We stayed there a long, long time, the balmy night air giving us no good reason to leave. Under the innumerable stars, amidst all the embraces and kisses and sounds from the surrounding livestock, I sudde ~ Ree Drummond

There are
people everywhere. Lindsay wants to be sick, it's like he can
feel
all their
eyes on him, but he does it anyway and when he finally moves away a
good minute later Valentine seems to have turned from himself into a silly
bashful schoolgirl, blushing and smiling and not quite looking up.
"Oh," he says, like that explains everything.
"Yeah."
"Thank you."
"That's a shit thing to say when somebody's just ripped all his
principles in half to make you feel better."
"Thank you very much?"
"You're welcome. ~ Richard Rider

I've been playing these schoolgirl roles in all my movies. Every time I went to the set, it felt like I was going to school. ~ Chiaki Kuriyama

It took me a moment. I blinked, and suddenly it swam into focus and I had to frown very hard to keep myself from giggling out loud like the schoolgirl Deb had accused me of being.
Because he had arranged the arms and legs in letters, and the letters spelled out a single small word: BOO.
The three torsos were carefully arranged below the BOO in a quarter-circle, making a cute little Halloween smile.
What a scamp. ~ Jeff Lindsay

Let us pick up our books and our pens, they are the most powerful weapons. Malala Yousafzai, the schoolgirl who was shot in the head by the Taliban for wanting an education and survived, in her keynote speech to the United Nations, 12th July 2013. ~ Malala Yousafzai

I think I was a Japanese schoolgirl in another life. That's how much I love Hello Kitty. ~ Dakota Fanning

And just as he had earlier, during their lunch hour, insinuated the problem of innocence to the formalists - which had incensed them and boosted their immaturity a hundredfold - he was now making an issue of my modern legs. And there I was, listening and lapping it all up - his linking the calves of my legs with those of the new generation - and coming to feel the cruelty of youth toward old calves! And there was also a kind of leg camaraderie with the schoolgirl, plus a clandestine, voluptuous collusion of legs, plus leg patriotism, plus the impudence of young legs, plus leg poetry, plus young-blooded pride in the calf of the leg, and a cult of the calf of the leg. Oh, what a fiendish body part! ~ Witold Gombrowicz

I don't agree with a core statement by most feminists, the statement by Simone de Beauvoir: "One is not born a woman, one becomes one." Even as a schoolgirl I wasn't convinced by the claim that gender has nothing to do with biology and is only shaped by one's environment. ~ Kristina Schroder

I looked at him, giggled like a schoolgirl, and asked, "What have you been doing all this time?"
"Oh, I was headed home," he said, fiddling with my fingers. "But then I just turned around; I couldn't help it." His hand found my upper back and pulled me closer. The windows were getting foggy. I felt like I was seventeen.
"I've got this problem," he continued, in between kisses.
"Yeah?" I asked, playing dumb. My hand rested on his left bicep. My attraction soared to the heavens. He caressed the back of my head, messing up my hair…but I didn't care; I had other things on my mind.
"I'm crazy about you," he said.
By now I was on his lap, right in the front seat of his Diesel Ford F250, making out with him as if I'd just discovered the concept. I had no idea how I'd gotten there--the diesel pickup or his lap. But I was there. And, burying my face in his neck, I quietly repeated his sentiments. "I'm crazy about you, too. ~ Ree Drummond

English, which can express the thoughts of Hamlet and the tragedy of Lear, has no words for the shiver and the headache... The merest schoolgirl, when she falls in love, has Shakespeare or Keats to speak her mind for her, but let a sufferer try to describe a pain in his head to a doctor and language at once runs dry. ~ John Green

Well that was decided. This was more than a silly schoolgirl crush. This was a deeply disturbing infatuation. ~ S. Walden

She used to recite the poem as a schoolgirl in England until she heard that it derived from the Great Plague of London in 1665. Allegedly, a ring around the rosie was a reference to a rose-colored pustule on the skin that developed a ring around it and indicated that one was infected. Sufferers would carry a pocketful of posies in an effort to mask the smell of their own decaying bodies as well as the stench of the city itself, where hundreds of plague victims dropped dead daily, their bodies then cremated. Ashes, ashes. We all fall down. ~ Dan Brown

Emily [Blunt] is such a giggler, she has such a positive life force about her and she's so giggly in a naughty sort of schoolgirl way that it kind of brings out the worst in you, you just love making her laugh. And also Nick Stoller has one of the best laughs. It's so infectious and whenever he laughs at something you do, it's like giving us a reward. ~ Jacki Weaver

In the mirror I'm something from a 2AM movie about Catholic Schoolgirl vampires. Revenge-black hair, short and sharp; a face that says she'll pull you to the dark side and you'll love every second of it. ~ Hannah Capin

There was an infinitesimal pause while he watched her face, as though he half expected her to recognise it, before he went on, 'My friends call me Thorn,' and gave her a smile of such devastating charm that she blinked.
Her hand clasped in his, her senses zinging from his touch and that stunning smile, she stared into his dark, handsome face until, realising that she was gawking at him like some overgrown schoolgirl, she withdrew her hand and asked quickly, 'What do your enemies call you? ~ Lee Wilkinson

We were only there for five days and during that time Tom was a bit annoyed that the French were more interested in me and my schoolgirl outfit than him and his long scarf. ~ Lalla Ward

I was a very polite schoolgirl who did her work very well and hid under tables. I'd hate to think I haven't changed at all. ~ Joan Juliet Buck

I met Gemma, my wife, when she was 12. She had a schoolgirl crush on me and her dad had arranged for her to meet me. Later, she started coming to my concerts, but I only got to know her well after her mother died. I rang to see how she was, and that's how it started. ~ Gary Numan

Calling it a simple schoolgirl crush was like saying a Rolls-Royce was a vehicle with four wheels, something like a hay-wagon. She did not giggle wildly and blush when she saw him, nor did she chalk his name on trees or write it on the walls of the Kissing Bridge. She simply lived with his face in her heart all the time, a kind of sweet, hurtful ache. She would have died for him.. ~ Stephen King

Finally, to hinder the description of illness in literature, there is the poverty of the language. English, which can express the thoughts of Hamlet and the tragedy of Lear, has no words for the shiver and the headache. It has all grown one way. The merest schoolgirl, when she falls in love, has Shakespeare or Keats to speak her mind for her; but let a sufferer try to describe a pain in his head to a doctor and language at once runs dry. There is nothing ready made for him. He is forced to coin words himself, and, taking his pain in one hand, and a lump of pure sound in the other (as perhaps the people of Babel did in the beginning), so to crush them together that a brand new word in the end drops out. Probably it will be something laughable. ~ Virginia Woolf

You are not sacrificing me…to anything." – Abigail
"You started this, babe. The choice is simple. Either you die alone, nobly like a good sport, or the entire world dies with you, which I don't think they'd appreciate much. So put on your big-girl pants and own up to what you and your stupidity caused. It's Joe Versus the Volcano time. But in the end, I don't give a shit what you do. With the exception of the cowboy there and my family, I hate people with a passion that makes your feelings for Jess look like a schoolgirl crush. Lovely thing about my current situation, I'm truly immortal. You annihilate humanity and the world…I'm still good. So whatever you decide, it won't affect me personally. I would say you're the one who'll have to live with the guilt. But either way, you're dead. Whatever. I delivered my message. My job here is done, and I need to get back to the one that I'm still not sure how I let them talk me into doing – which is even weirder and scarier than the Dark-Hunter gig. Jess, call me if she wusses, and I'll make sure you survive the holocaust." – Zarek ~ Sherrilyn Kenyon

After we finished the interview Paul thanked me for my time and told me he thought I was great on the radio. He suggested I think about it as a career. I thanked him and said I'd consider it. But really all I was thinking about was Jamie. As soon as I got in my car I looked on my phone and saw I had a Facebook friend request from her. I felt schoolgirl giddy. I accepted the request and immediately called my Army buddy Max. Max is one of the guys who came with me on that first Tough Mudder. We are really close friends, and he's someone I've always confided in. Just a few weeks before I had called and told him, "You know what? I'm done with women for the time being, but the next time I talk to a girl, I'm shooting out of my league." So now I called Max and said, "I've met a girl way out of my league and I'm gonna take a shot. ~ Noah Galloway

I can't even say the word 'titmouse' without giggling like a schoolgirl. ~ Homer

It doesn't matter," Reagan said. "He already likes you. I think he's into the nerdy schoolgirl thing. He talks about you like you're something he found in a natural history museum. ~ Rainbow Rowell

The Catholic schoolgirl in me was scandalized by the thought; I told her we'd been thrown out of Catholic school so she should shut up. ~ Gabrielle Zevin

No one is a greater schoolgirl in spirit than a cynic. Cynics cannot relinquish the rubbish they were taught as children: they hold tight to the belief that the world has meaning and, when things go wrong for them, they consequently adopt the inverse attitude. "Life's a whore, I don't believe in anything anymore and I'll wallow in that idea until it makes me sick" is the very credo of the innocent who hasn't been able to get his way. ~ Muriel Barbery

It takes a lady of a certain age to contain the stuff [whiskey]. Particularly the Irish. No offense but a bit of weathering and experience are required not to go right off the edge with it. I would heisitate to serve Irish to a green schoolgirl. Mixes and vodka are enough for them to go wrong on. I couldn't look at myself shaving if I poured Irish for the young. ~ Katherine Dunn

I pursed my lips. "Well maybe I didn't," I said. I felt horribly like a hoodwinked schoolgirl. "Understand, I mean." Mirela sighed and stroked her hand and looked down at the cold shaft of the prosthesis. "We had a nice time, didn't we? But now we have to go back to our lives. You know that." I got up and began storming about the room. "But you don't - " I said agitatedly. "I mean to say you don't love him - " She could not have turned cooler if I had poured iced water over her; I could feel the temperature in the room drop. "I never said it had anything to do with love," she said impersonally, like a piano teacher correcting a child who keeps fudging his scales. "Who or what I love is my business. I said I needed him. ~ Paul Murray