Sh T My Dad Says Quotes

Justin Halpern tosses lightning bolts of laughter out of his pocket like he is shooting dice in a back alley. In one sweep of a paragraph, he ranges from hysterical to disgusting to touching
and does it all seamlessly. Sh*t My Dad Says is a really, really funny book. ~ Laurie Notaro

Do people your age know how to comb their fucking hair? It looks like two squirrels crawled on their head and started fucking. ~ Justin Halpern

The dog is not bored. It's not like he's waiting for me to give him a fucking Rubik's Cube. He's a goddamned dog. ~ Justin Halpern

You're ten years old now, you have to take a shower every day ... I don't give a shit if you hate it. People hate smelly fuckers. I will not have a smelly fucker for a son. ~ Justin Halpern

I've heard stories about me as a kid. My dad got me a T-shirt that said "here comes trouble," and when I ask my mom what I was like, she just sighs with this weary tone and says, "Oh, you were really busy." ~ Kristin Bauer Van Straten

My father is standing at the sink wearing a too-tight long-sleeved red T-Shirt, a pair of too-high jeans and sporting the type of orange glow that belongs only on Chernobyl victims. Plus his hair looks like an oil spill.
'Hey you,' he says, washing what looks to be some carrots under the sink. Are they carrots or are they parsnips reflecting the sheen of my father's tangerine skin? Hard to tell.
'You've fake tanned yourself again,' I say - it's a statement, not a question. 'Too much?' he says, innocently. 'I just didn't want to be one of those pasty office workers and I thought it wouldn't hurt to back up last week's application with another hit.'
'Dad, you look-'
'Sun kissed?'
'Radioactive. And what the hell happened to your hands?'
- Cat ~ Rebecca Sparrow

I asked my dad what people would remember sooner, the things I said or the things I did. His response was: Forgive me, but what people? ~ Stacey T. Hunt

BLAIR: My mom got hit a few times by my dad before she threw him out.......I hated him for what he did because I knew the pain she felt in her face was nothing compared to the pain and distrust that would be in her heart for a long time....... ~ T.S. Joyce

I look into the future and see my brother's face, impossibly middle-aged. His daughter has rejected all of his values, and stands now on the dais of a major university, the valedictorian preparing to deliver her commencement speech. What will she think when her dad stands in the aisle, releasing a hog call and raising his T-shirt to reveal the jiggling message painted upon his bare stomach? Will she turn away, as my father predicts, or might she remember all the nights she awoke to discover him: this slob, this lump, this silly drooling toy asleep at her feet. ~ David Sedaris

Get a grip, Dad. I'm not going to do anything you wouldn't do at my age.'
He stands up and says, 'That's it. You're canceling this date. ~ Simone Elkeles

Everyone always knows what they're doing," he says abruptly, still not looking up from his hands, the little plastic pot and the old tattoo and the new white dressing on his left wrist. "You know what you're doing, you got your work and your friends and everything and miserable headfucky little teenage girly boys think you're amazing and, I don't know, you might've saved my life, who knows? I might be dead if it weren't for you and Olly but people can't keep looking after me all the time cos that ain't healthy neither, that's just as bad as people not giving a fuck at all. And, like... I'm trying to sort my head out and be a proper grown-up and get my degree and go to work and look after them kids and make sure my dad ain't kicking my sister round the house like a football but it's just so hard all the time, and I know I ain't got no right to complain cos that's just life, ain't it? Everyone's the same, least I ain't got money worries or nothing. I just don't know what I'm doing, everything's too hard. I can try and try forever but I can't be good enough for no one so what the fuck's the point? ~ Richard Rider

I hate short hair on men - the 'real' man is something I don't know. My dad was always playing with hairbands, making rings, while the women were wearing jeans, white T-shirts and Converse. That was the uniform at home. ~ Lou Doillon

My dad always told me that anyone's voice is just another instrument added to the music. ~ T-Pain

Whenever you feel short or need of something, give what you want first, and it will come back in buckets. That is true for money, a smile, love or friendship. I know it is often the last thing a person may do, but it has always worked for me. I trust that the principle of prosperity is true, and I give what I want. I want money, so I give money, and it comes back in multiples. I want sales, so I help someone else sell something, so sales come to me. I want contacts, and I help someone else get contacts. Like magic, contacts come to me. I heard a saying years ago that went: god does not need to receive, but humans need to give. My rich dad would often say: poor people are more greedy than rich people. He would explain that if a person is rich, that person is providing something that other people wanted...whenever I think people aren't smiling at me, I simply began smiling and saying hello. Like magic, the next thing I know: I'm surrounded by smiling people. It is true that you world is only a mirror of you. So that's why I say, teach and you shall receive. ~ Robert T. Kiyosaki

My friend Bill O'Reilly is completely full of sh*t. ~ Jon Stewart

MY MOM SAYS IT'S TIME for me to give up now, and that what I'm doing is futile. She's upset, so her accent is thicker than usual, and every statement is a question. "You no think is time for you to give up now, Tasha? You no think that what you doing is futile?" She draws out the first syllable of futile for a second too long. My dad doesn't say anything. He's mute with anger or impotence. I'm never sure which. His frown is so deep and so complete that it's hard to imagine his face with another expression. If this were even just a few months ago, I'd be sad to see him like this, but now I don't really care. He's the reason we're all in this mess. ~ Nicola Yoon

My mom says, "Do you know what the AIDS memorial quilt is all about?"
Jump to how much I hate my brother at this moment.
I bought this fabric because I thought it would make a nice panel for Shane," Mom says. "We just ran into some problems with what to sew on it."
Give me amnesia.
Flash.
Give me new parents.
Flash.
Your mother didn't want to step on any toes," Dad says. He twists a drumstick off and starts scraping the meat onto a plate. "With gay stuff you have to be so careful since everything means something in secret code. I mean, we didn't want to give people the wrong idea."
My Mom leans over to scoop yams onto my plate, and says, "Your father wanted a black border, but black on a field of blue would mean Shane was excited by leather sex, you know, bondage and discipline, sado and masochism." She says, "Really, those panels are to help the people left behind."
Strangers are going to see us and see Shane's name," my dad says. "We didn't want them thinking things."
The dishes all start their slow clockwise march around the table. The stuffing. The olives. The cranberry sauce. "I wanted pink triangles but all the panels have pink triangles," my mom says. "It's the Nazi symbol for homosexuals." She says,"Your father suggested black triangles, but that would mean Shane was a lesbian. It looks like female pubic hair. The black triangle does."
My father says, "Then I wanted a green border, but it turns out that would mean ~ Chuck Palahniuk

A central principle underlying Mrs Quinty's Rules for Writing is that you have to have a Beginning Middle and End. If you don't have these your Reader is lost. But what if Lost is exactly where the writer is? I asked her. Ruth, the writer can't be lost, she said, and then knew she'd said it too quickly and bit her lip knowing I was going to say something about Dad. She pressed her knees together and diverted into a fit of dry coughing. This, Dear Reader, is a river narrative. My chosen style is The Meander. I know that in The Brothers Karamazov (Book 1,777, Penguin Classics, London) Ippolit Kirillovich chose the historical form of narration because Dostoevsky says it checked his own exuberant rhetoric. Beginnings middles and ends force you into that place where you have to Stick to the Story as Maeve Mulvey said the night the Junior Certs were supposed to be going to the cinema in Ennis but were buying cans in Dunnes and drinking ~ Niall Williams

My dad says that when I was two or three I used to go out dressed as a different character every day. I remember thinking it was perfectly normal to wear different coloured shoes and carry a pink umbrella. But now I've got a goddaughter of that age; I realise it's not normal at all. ~ Alice Eve

Michael comes to the door with Frederick. 'Lucky I was here playing Scrabble,' Frederick says, as they take Henry off my hands. I follow with the wallet and keys that have fallen from his pocket.

'My father,' Henry says as they tumble through the door.

'My son,' his dad replies, helping him towards the fiction couch.

'Amy's going out with Greg Smith,' I say to explain why Henry's drunk. 'I found him in the girls' toilets.'

'In my defence, I was too drunk to know it was the girls' toilets,' Henry says.

'Go to sleep,' his dad tells him. 'It'll seem better in the morning.'

'No offence, Dad,' Henry says, 'but unrequited love is just as shit in the morning as it is at night. Possibly worse, because you have a whole day ahead of you.'

'No offence taken,' Michael says. 'You've got a point there.'

'They should just kill the victims of unrequited love,' Henry says. 'They should just take us out the second it happens.'

'That would certainly thin the population,' Michael says, as he tucks a blanket around him. ~ Cath Crowley

My Dad says that people like that {ignorant about other countries and cultures} are not truly horrible; they just need a geography class, a passport, and a few foreign friends. ~ Firoozeh Dumas

My dad is adorably optimistic, positive, pie-in-the-sky. He thinks every new song I write is my best. He sells T-shirts at my merchandise stands and hands out guitar picks to fans. ~ Taylor Swift

Learn how to program and play lots of games. If you find yourself capable of writing a game, someday you'll be capable of writing a really good game. My dad's a writer, and when you ask him how to learn to write, he says, "write." So basically, do it and keep doing it until you get good. ~ Fred Haslam

I truly don't mind staying in the guest room. I'd hate to make things awkward."
Daddy starts to answer him, but Margot gets there first. "No, it's totally fine," she assures Ravi. "Let's go get the rest of our stuff out of the car."
The second they leave, Kitty and I turn to each other. At the same time we say, "Oh my God."
Kitty ponders, "Why do they need to stay in the same room together? Do they have to have sex that bad?"
"Enough, Kitty," Daddy says, his tone sharper than I've heard him use with her. He turns and leaves, and I hear the sound of his office door closing. His office is where he goes when he is really mad. Ms. Rothschild gives her a stern look and follows after him.
Kitty and I look at each other again. "Yikes," I say.
"He didn't have to snap," Kitty says sullenly. "I'm not the one whose boyfriend is staying in my bed."
"He didn't mean it." I tuck her against me, wrapping my arms around her bony shoulders. "Gogo has a lot of nerve, huh?" She's very impressive, my sister. I just feel sorry for Daddy. This isn't a fight he's used to having--or any kind of fight at all, really.
Of course I text Peter right away and tell all. He sends back a lot of wide-eyed emojis. And: Do you think your dad would let us stay in the same room?? Which I ignore. ~ Jenny Han

I'm walking off the dance floor when I see him. Peter, in a suit, standing to the side, beside the dogwood tree. He looks so handsome I can hardly stand it. I cross the backyard, and he watches me the whole time. My heart is pounding so hard. Is he here for me? Or did he just come because he promised my dad?
When I'm standing in front of him, I say, "You came."
Peter looks away. "Of course I came."
Softly I say, "I wish I could take back the things I said the other night. I don't even remember all of them."
Looking down, he says, "But you meant them, right? So it's a good thing you said them then, because somebody had to and you were right."
"Which part?" I whisper.
"About UNC. About me not transferring there." He lifts his head, his eyes wounded. "But you should have told me my mom talked to you."
I take a shaky breath. "You should have told me you were thinking about transferring! You should've told me how you were feeling, period. You shut down after graduation; you wouldn't let me in. You kept saying everything was going to be fine."
"Because I was fucking scared, okay!" he bursts out. He looks around to see if anyone heard, but the music is loud, and everyone is dancing; no one is looking at us, and it's like we are alone here in this backyard.
"What were you so scared about?" I whisper.
His hands tighten into fists at his sides. When he finally speaks, his voice comes out raw, like he hasn't used it in a while. "I was sc ~ Jenny Han

Not that there's anything wrong with geeky," Link says before Dad has a chance to. Geeky is one of Dad's favorite words, and I listen with glee to my brother's imitation of our father: "Geeky people often have that which is most valuable in this life." Link pauses here for effect, so that James and I can join in, shouting Dad's favorite phrase, "A mind with its own heartbeat. ~ Garret Freymann-Weyr

I was pretty quiet as a child. I kind of hung out with my family and listened to music and sh*t. I wasn't too outgoing at all. ~ James Hetfield

I stuff another handful of Raisinets in my mouth. What gets me is the 'pretty face' bit. 'Cause I won't mind being reminded I'm fat as long as you water it down first. Why not say, Hey I'm going to insult you, but first I will congratulate your fortunate genetics and appropriate appliclation of Bobbi Brown cosmetics to prevent you from hitting me. Sh*t; I kind of prefer being called a 'fat bitch.' At least it doesn't pull any punches. ~ Jen Lancaster

Lyre: Ash, my friend, you have a lot to learn about women.
Ash: Why force it out of her if she doesn't want to talk about it?
Lyre: Because women like to stew about sh*t that could otherwise be sorted in no time. If you'd just talked to her a couple of cycles ago, she wouldn't have had this time to get worked up about it. Then, you could have focused on getting her worked up in other ways. ~ Annette Marie

He groaned. "Don't talk about my dad while I'm trying to seduce you." "Stop talking," I begged him. "Please." And then, of course, Carter and Kelly appeared, on their run. They stopped and stared at us. We stared back. I felt guilty. Because their underage brother was shirtless and it probably smelled like a whorehouse where we stood. Kelly said, "This is awkward." I said, "Nothing happened!" Carter said, "Oh my god, it stinks like sex." Joe ~ T.J. Klune

Why do you always call me by my full name?"
"I don't know. I guess that's how I think of you in my head."
"Oh, so you're saying you think about me a lot?"
I laugh. "No, I'm saying that when I think about you, which isn't very often, that's how I think of you. On the first day of school, I always have to explain to teachers that Lara Jean is my first name and not just Lara. And then, do you remember how Mr. Chudney started calling you John Ambrose because of that? 'Mr. John Ambrose.'"
In a fake hoity-toity English accent, John says, "Mr. John Ambrose McClaren the Third, madam."
I giggle. I've never met a third before. "Are you really?"
"Yeah. It's annoying. My dad's a junior, so he's JJ, but my extended family still calls me Little John." He grimaces. "I'd much rather be John Ambrose than Little John. Sounds like a rapper or that guy from Robin Hood."
"Your family's so fancy." I only ever saw John's mom when she was picking him up. She looked younger than the other mothers, she had John's same milky skin, and her hair was longer than the other moms', straw-colored.
"No. My family isn't fancy at all. My mom made Jell-O salad last night for dessert. And, like, my dad only has steak cooked well-done. We only ever take vacations we can drive to. ~ Jenny Han

Oh my God, I can totally see it," says Britt. She scrunches her face into a frown and glares at herself in the mirror. "Jael ... ," she says, in a pretty good imitation of Jael's father's flat, gruff voice. "Jael, money is tight. Do you really need these things?"
"No, you're right, Dad," says Jael in a chipper, squeaky voice. "It's actually really convenient that I can store all my pens and pencils in my hair. In fact, you know what? I'll just grow my hair a little longer so you don't even have to get me folders this year! ~ Jon Skovron

„I don't think you put the swear word in the right place, Grandpa," Teddy says. When Dad first came here, my boys would look shocked whenever Dad went Old-Faithful-profane, and I began to wonder if Lisa and I shouldn't swear more so Franklin and Teddy weren't so put off by curse words. ~ Jess Walter

My dad says he likes to bask in my glow. ~ Robert Pattinson

I hate being clean-shaven. My daughter gets very upset if I shave and says, 'Bring back the spikes, Dad.' ~ Eric Bana

Would you like some of my cranberry sauce?" I ask.
"I have the same thing, Emily," my dad says. "Why would I want some of yours when I have my own? ~ Julie Buxbaum

Dad says that the world is always changing, every second of every day, and so is everything in it, which means that the you you are right now is different from the you you were when you started reading this sentence. Crazy, right? And your memories change, too. (For instance, I swear the teddy bear I had growing up was green, but according to my parents it was orange.) But when you take a photograph, things stay still. The way that they were, is the way that they are, is the way that they will always be. ~ Victoria Schwab

I loved having a dad who was smarter than the New York Times, and I loved how my cheek could feel the hairs on his chest through his T-shirt, and how he always smelled like shaving, even at the end of the day. Being with him made my brain quiet. I didn't have to invent a thing. ~ Jonathan Safran Foer

my dad says you can't do anything but he isn't wrong because i wanna do everything... ~ Shivangi Lavaniya

Kevin", his father began, "I've been thinking about it – I guess I was kind of carried away. It's just that I've waited so long for my old school to make it to the Regionals... I suppose I was living it vicariously through you. Keith says you're not going to fail, after all. Is that right?"

"Looks like I'll make it. I know it's hard to believe..."

"Yes, it is. I was hoping you could get a football scholarship, you know. Something to waive the entrance requirements, because I don't know what college would take you-"

"Yeah. Thanks a lot Dad," Kevin said sarcastically. He already knew what his father thought of him and didn't need to be reminded yet again.

"Oh, come on. You know perfectly well that you're too stupid to-"

"That's not what my boyfriend says. Oh, by the way, Dad – I'm a faggot. Did I mention that?"

"... Kevin – get your stuff, and get out."

"Gladly. ~ Failte