Slip Of A Girl Quotes

I didn't cry easily. It was a badge of honor, of toughness. I was a slip of a girl, a woman with little to offer and nothing to say, but I had my dignity, and tears were undignified. ~ Amy Harmon

Standing at the window overlooking the lawn, Jordan and Alexandra Townsende watched the couple heading toward them. "If you'd asked me to name the last man on earth I would have expected to fall head over heels for a slip of a girl, it would have been Ian Thornton," he told her.
His wife heard that with a sidewise look of extreme amusement. "If I'd been asked, I rather think I would have named you."
"I'm sure you would have," he said, grinning. He saw her smile fade, and he put his arm around her waist, instantly concerned that her pregnancy was causing her discomfort. "Is it the babe, darling?"
She burst out laughing and shook her head, but she sobered again almost instantly. "Do you think," she asked pensively, "he can be trusted not to hurt her? He's done so much damage that I-I just cannot like him, Jordan. He's handsome, I'll grant you that, extraordinarily handsome-"
"Not that handsome," Jordan said, stung. And this time Alexandra dissolved in mirth. Turning, she wrapped her arms around him and kissed him soundly. "Actually, he rather reminds me of you," she said, "in his coloring and height and build."
"I hope that hasn't anything to do with why you can't like him," her husband teased.
"Jordan, do stop. I'm worried, really I am. He's-well, he almost frightens me. Even though he seems very civilized on the surface, there's a forcefulness, maybe even a ruthlessness beneath his polished manners. And he stops at nothing when he wants something ~ Judith McNaught

Sam was staring at Claire with about the same amazement as his brother had shown. Claire didn't seem to realize it, or else she was too preoccupied to think of it, but she was the second thunderbolt that had fallen on this long-hidebound household in as many days. First one of the hated race of doctors had been shoehorned in on them as the only thing that might get them out of an already nightmarish situation, and now this matter-of-fact slip of a girl had pushed into it of her own accord. They must have felt like the world was coming down around their ears. ~ Elisabeth Grace Foley

Terror was not conducive to conjuring perfectly formed sentences."

"I didn't cry easily. It was a badge of honor, of toughness. I was a slip of a girl, a woman with little to offer and nothing to say, but I had my dignity, and tears were undignified."

"Clearly, the battle wasn't over, but paused, and I trembled at what the morrow would bring. No words hung in the wind. The forest creatures had gone deep or fled. Night sounds were muted, the trees silent. Even the leaves spoke in whispers or not at all. Death made the living things hide."

"Those who persecute the hardest usually have the most to hide ~ Amy Harmon

Imagine - Lord Seregil and Lord Alec slapped up in the Red Tower for common housebreaking? No one knows what we really are, or what we've done for Skala. It would just be shame and dishonor, and for what? Because some titled slip of a girl couldn't keep her skirts down on Mourning Night, then decided she wanted a proper marriage? For that, I risk losing you? ~ Lynn Flewelling

He wanted to laugh at the poetic justice of it all. After a couple of years of chasing after women and then a decade of having them chase after him, he'd finally been brought down by a slip of a girl, fresh out of Cornwall, whom he was honor-bound to protect. ~ Julia Quinn

Caeden grabbed my hand and grinned like a little boy in a candy shop. "Carnival time!" He drug me from the car and then behind him as he headed to a ring toss game. "I think I need to win my girl a prize," he said.
I laughed.
"What?" he shrugged. "It's like a rite of passage. Every boyfriend has to win his girlfriend a prize," he winked, turning my stomach to jelly. ~ Micalea Smeltzer

Everyone goes to the 'Grands-Boulevards' (in Paris, ed.) and let himself loose ... Do not picture these in costume, they are not for the most part ... perhaps a clown with a big nose, or two girls with bare necks and short skirts ... the parade of the queens of the halls (markets) is also one of the events ... Some are pretty but look awkward in their silk dresses and crowns, particularly as the broad sun displays their defects - perhaps a neck too thin or a painted face which shows ghastley white in the sunlight. ~ Edward Hopper

I sat looking at her with rapt attention. My heart was thumping, the blood coursing warmly through my veins. What a wonderful pleasure to be sitting in a human dwelling again, hear a clock ticking, and talk with a lively young girl instead of with myself!
Why don't you say something?"
Ah, how sweet you are!" I said. "I'm sitting here getting fascinated by you, at this moment I'm thoroughly fascinated. I can't help it. You are the strangest person that... Sometimes your eyes are so radiant, I've never seen anything like it, they look like flowers. Eh? No, no, maybe not like flowers but... I'm madly in love with you, and it won't do me a bit of good. What's your name? Really, you must tell me what your name is..."
No, what's your name? Goodness, I almost forgot again! I was thinking all day yesterday that I must ask you. Well, that is, not all day yesterday, I certainly didn't think about you all day yesterday."
Do you know what I've called you? I have called you Ylajali. How do you like it? Such a gliding sound-"
Ylajali?"
Yes."
Is it a foreign language?"
Hmm. No, it's not."
Well, it isn't ugly. ~ Knut Hamsun

She looks at Sam. 'Close your ears if you don't want to know what I suspect to be the sex of your child,' she says, and he blocks his ears.
'It's Sam's?' Jonesey asks, surprised, just as he gets a message.
'Where have you been, Jonesey?' Bernadette says. 'In La La Land?'
'Contrary to popular belief, I think it has no penis,' Georgie whispers to them while Lucia covers Sam's ears.
Jonesey looks up from his text messaging, shocked. 'Poor little guy. ~ Melina Marchetta

At deception he means. Perhaps I am better than some, but every woman has a great deal of experience presenting herself as someone other than who she is, since no girl is ever everything the world wants her to be. ~ Sherry Thomas

I / I am a girl who feels too American for love...they say I'm a child of an AT&T café olé telephone-commercial future where your nose is not flat enough to offend/and not pointy enough to cut the glass ceiling. ~ Erika Lopez

We'll stick close together, but make no sign we are acquainted. The girls should go ahead so that they get through first. We'll follow close behind to be there for any trouble."

"Don't worry, my dears," said the professor gallantly, "I'll rescue you from any difficulties."

Yelena laughed and kissed the old man on the cheek. "Of course you will. I don't know why we bother with these other men, do you, Tashi?"

"But they are decorative, aren't they?" the Princess replied archly. It was fun to have a girl with whom she could gang up against the boys--she'd never had a friend like that before. "They give us something to look at on the boring stretches of the road." She let her eyes linger on Ramil, who appeared very warm all of a sudden.

Yelena swung herself into the saddle. "My, my, Princess, I didn't know you could flirt."

"I'm learning from a master--or should I say mistress--of that art," Tashi said with a bow. ~ Julia Golding

I just want to get my voice heard again and to allow people to know me outside of a group situation. I also want young girls who look up to me to know not to give up, even when people try and take you away from your destiny. ~ LeToya Luckett

Then letters came in but three times a week: indeed, in some places in Scotland where I have stayed when I was a girl, the post came in but once a month; - but letters were letters then; and we made great prizes of them, and read them and studied them like books. Now the post comes rattling in twice a day, bringing short jerky notes, some without beginning or end, but just a little sharp sentence, which well-bred folks would think too abrupt to be spoken. ~ Elizabeth Gaskell

Impressive deduction," Ryan murmured. "You certainly look deeper than most." He brushed back a strand of my hair, and I screwed my eyes shut. He was doing this on purpose. "But let me give you some advice." His lips were right next to my ear. "I wouldn't peer too far. Even the clearest window can cast back your own reflection. ~ Sam Dogra

Truth is always wilder than fiction. Hold on to your hats and enjoy this page turning
look inside the world of sports betting from a good girl gone bad for love.
Laura Atchison, Author of What Would A Wise Woman Do? ~ Laura Atchison

You fight them, his father had said.
You don't trust them. His father had been right. And his father had been ready. Rabatians were cowards and deceivers, they should have scattered when their duplicitous attack met the full force of the Akielon army. But for some reason they hadn't fallen at the first sign of a real fight, they had stood firm, and shown metal, and, for hour upon hour, they had fought, until the Akielon lines had begun to slip and falter.
And their general wasn't the king, it was the twenty-five year old prince, holding the field.
Father, I can take him, he'd said.
Then go, his father had said, and bring
us back victory. ~ C.S. Pacat

I've lived near here at several different stretches across time, but once, when I lived here a few hundred years ago, I had a camel I named Oded. He was just about the laziest creature ever to talk the Earth. He would pass out when I was in the middle of feeding him, and making it to the closest Bedouin camp for tea was a minor miracle. But when I first met you in that lifetime-"
"Oded broke into a run," Luce said without thinking. "I screamed because I thought he was going to trample me. You said you'd never seen him move like that."
"Yeah, well," Daniel said. "He liked you."
They paused and looked at each other, and Daniel started laughing when Luce's jaw dropped. "I did it!" she cried out. "It was just there, in my memory, a part of me. Like it happened yesterday. I came to me without thinking!"
It was miraculous. All those memories from all those lives that had been lost each time Lucinda died in Daniel's arms were somehow finding their way back to her, the way Luce always found her way back to Daniel.
No. She was finding her way to them.
It was like a gate had been left open after Luce's quest through the Announcers. Those memories stayed with her, from Moscow to Helston to Egypt. Now more were becoming available.
She had a sudden, keen sense of who she was-and she wasn't just Luce Price from Thunderbolt, Georgia. She was every girl she'd ever been, an amalgamation of experience, mistakes, achievements, and, above all, love.
She wa ~ Lauren Kate

I was born in 1958, the same year NASA was established, which I like to think of as not a coincidence. I was 11 when they landed on the moon, Apollo Eleven. And, of course, everybody in the whole world was watching that. But I can tell you, at that time, nobody ever asked a girl, 'Is that something you want to grow up and do?' ~ Ellen Ochoa

At one point, a girl who looked to be in her early twenties, with a Joan of Arc haircut, passed right in front of the glass. When Mitchell looked at her, the girl did an amazing thing: she looked back. She met his gaze with frank sexual meaning. Not that she "wanted" to have sex with him, necessarily. Only that she was happy to acknowledge, on this late-summer evening, that he was a man and she a woman, and if he found her attractive, that was all right with her. No American girl had ever looked at Mitchell like that.
Deanie was right: Europe was a nice spot. ~ Jeffrey Eugenides

Nothing they say or do can ever change the man you are," Trinity continued. "A man I love with all my heart, and Nan does too. They don't matter; their words mean nothing."

I stared back at her as I allowed what she said to really sink in. She was right. I knew she was right. I just got so lost in the anger I had for them that I let their words eat away at me.
"Have I told you lately how amazing you are?"
I asked as she cocked her head in the cute quirky way she did when I gave her a compliment.
"Because you are, and the way you calm me, the way you give me a sense of clarity even in my weakest of times, just confirms how perfect you are."

"I'm not perfect, Chase," she whispered in return and it was my turn to take her face in my hands.

"You're perfect for me," I whispered as I tilted my head toward hers and pressed my lips against hers. "I love you, sweet girl, so damn much. ~ C.A. Harms

Tell me about your friends."
"I hardly knew them. The one who ran off with the girl is named Christopher Columbus. Tall guy. Really skinny. Green hair. Fangs. Six fingers on his left hand. About a hundred years old. Lots of wrinkles."
"I trust you are enjoying yourself." the commander sneered. ~ Brandon Mull

They were all joking about the party at my place when they walked away. As I uncapped my drink, I noticed Michael was hanging back a bit.
"Got something on your mind?" I called out, gesturing at him with my chin.
He was a good player, he worked hard on the field, and I respected him. I got the feeling, though, that I wasn't going to like what he wanted to say. I could tell by the hesitation in his face and body language. He probably disagreed with some of the plays I wanted to try tonight and didn't want to piss me off in fear I would freeze him out on the field.
But I wasn't like that. I left personal shit in the locker room. There was no room for drama in the game.
He walked back over in front of me as he adjusted the strap on his shoulder. "I'm not sure I should say anything."
"Just say it, man. It's cool."
"I saw your girl this morning." He started, and everything in me went cold.
This wasn't about football. This was personal.
"You looking at Rimmel?" I asked, my voice calm and low.
His eyes widened a little, but he shook his head. "No, man. I probably wouldn't have known it was her, but she was wearing your hoodie."
I nodded for him to continue.
"She was in the hall, outside her class," he said, glancing at me.
He needed to get to the fucking point already. I was losing patience.
"That guy Zach was with her. It looked pretty intense."
I jerked upright. "What?" I growled.
What the fu ~ Cambria Hebert

I never lived the life of 'Oh, you're so good-looking'. People thought I was a girl when I was little, because I looked like a girl-maybe because my mother would keep my hair really long in a bowl cut. I was in a coffee shop once and the waitress was like, 'What do you want, Miss?' I was 10 or 11-the worst age to have that happen. I had a jean jacket on and a Metallica pin. I thought I was really cool. ~ Bradley Cooper

It took a moment to recognize Timothy ... her first love. There had been a time when the mere sight of his handsome face had made her catch her breath. It had taken her years to recover from losing Timothy. Now the pain of his loss was muted and somehow apart from her, as if a broken engagement had happened to some other young, naive girl. She looked at him, and all she could think was, Thank Goodness. Thank goodness she's escaped marrying him. ~ Elizabeth Hoyt

When I was growing up, we didn't have this super-skinny, flawless image to compete with. I find it unfortunate that young women may look at those images and think that is the ideal of beauty. It can cause a lot of problems and self-esteem issues if we don't remind girls that being healthy and exactly who you are is the main thing. I'm grateful I didn't grow up with those images. ~ Kellee Stewart

She nods, turning the silver bangle around on her wrist.
"She came from some village north of here, a few hours away. She traveled all the way to the city just to…"
She trails off, feeling a lump grow in her throat.
"…to take you to that orphanage?" Sanjay finishes for her.
Asha nods.
"And she gave me this."
She slides the bangle back on her wrist.
"They gave you everything they had to give," Sanjay says. He reaches across the table for her hand. "So how do you feel, now that you know?"
Asha gazes out the window.
"I used to write these letters, when I was a little girl," she says. "Letters to my mother, telling her what I was learning in school, who my friends were, the books I liked. I must have been about seven when I wrote the first one. I asked my dad to mail it, and I remember he got a really sad look in his eyes and he said,
'I'm sorry, Asha, I don't know where she is.'"
She turns back to face Sanjay.
"Then, as I got older, the letters changed. Instead of telling her about my life, I started asking all these questions. Was her hair curly? Did she like crossword puzzles? Why didn't she keep me?"
Asha shakes her head.
"So many questions."
"And now, I know," she continues. "I know where I came from, and I know I was loved. I know I'm a hell of a lot better off now than I would have been otherwise."
She shrugs.
"And that's enough for me. Some answers, I'll just have to figure ou ~ Shilpi Somaya Gowda

He despised the words leaving his mouth, hating the way they made him feel. Exposed. Open. By a girl who didn't weigh more than his cock. A girl who stared at him with eyes of fire, who pushed buttons he didn't know he had, and had wormed her way inside a part of him that should be closed. ~ Alessandra Torre

To anyone who has followed the practice of using profanity or vulgarity and would like to correct the habit, could I offer this suggestion? First, make the commitment to erase such words from your vocabulary. Next, if you slip and say a swear word or a substitute word, mentally reconstruct the sentence without the vulgarity or substitute word and repeat the new sentence aloud. Eventually you will develop a non-vulgar speech habit. ~ L. Tom Perry

What a prison you have set up for me with your first love."
She put her arms tighter around him and said teasingly, "Oh, so the first love part you believe, but the first kiss part you have a problem with? What kind of girl do you think I am?"
"The nicest girl," he whispered. ~ Paullina Simons

All I wanted in this world was to be a mom."
"You regret it?" I ask.
"Being a mom? Never. Seducing your father and making sure he didn't use a condom, yes."
"I don't want to hear this."
"Well, I'm gonna tell it to you whether you want to hear it or not. Be careful, Alex."
"I am."
She takes another drag of her cigarette while shaking her head. "No, you don't get it. You might be careful, but girls won't be. Girls are manipulative. I should know, I'm one of them."
"Brittany is--"
"The kind of girl who can make you do things you don't want to do."
"Believe me, Mom. She doesn't want a kid."
"No, but she'll want other things. Things you can never give her."
I look up at the stars, the moon, the universe that I know doesn't end. "But what if I want to give them to her? ~ Simone Elkeles

The War on Drugs, from the Hastings-facing window of the Portland
Hotel, is manifested in the pregnant Celia kneeling on the sidewalk,
handcuffed wrists behind her back, eyes cast on the ground. There
was no Detective-Sergeant Gillespie to protect her when, as a little
girl, she was raped by her stepfather and subjected to the nocturnal
spitting ritual, so in the War on Drugs she has become one of the
enemy. ~ Gabor Mate

It's sweet and everything, but it's like you're not even there sometimes. It's great that you can listen and be a shoulder to someone, but what about when someone doesn't need a shoulder? What if they need the arms or something like that? You can't just sit there and put everybody's lives ahead of yours and think that counts as love. You just can't. You have to do things."
"Like what?" I asked. My mouth was dry.
"I don't know. Like take their hands when the slow song comes up for a change. Or be the one who asks someone for a date. Or tell people what you need. Or what you want. ~ Stephen Chbosky

Lou took a deep breath, inhaling the scent of just-cut flowers, fresh tamales from the food stands, and sunshine. She preferred the West Allis farmers' market to all others in the area, with its open sides, wide walkways, and rows of stalls. More recently, small tents serving hot sandwiches and fresh Mexican food had popped up outside the brick walls. It all looked so good, she'd learned long ago to come with limited funds or she would buy more produce than she could possibly use. She relished talking to the farmers, learning about what they grew and where. She liked to search for farmers growing something new and interesting she could use at Luella's.
But today's visit was personal, not business. Sue had dragged her out to West Allis for a little lunch and some girl time with fall squash and Honeycrisp apples. ~ Amy E. Reichert

March 6, 1961

I remembered a party in a house outside of Ann Arbor. There was a jazz band -- piano, bass, drums, and sax -- playing in one of the large rooms. A heavy odor of marijuana hung in the air. The host appeared now and then looking pleased, as if he liked seeing strangers in every room, the party out of his control. It wasn't wild, but with a constant flow of people, who knows what they're doing. It became late and I was a little drunk, wandering from one part of the house to another. I entered a long hall and was surprised by the silence, as if I had entered another house. A girl at the other end of the hall was walking toward me. I saw large blue eyes and very black hair. She was about average height, doll-like features delicate as cut glass, extremely pretty, maybe the prettiest girl I'd ever seen. When she came up to me I took her in my arms and kissed her. She let it happen. We were like creatures in a dream. Holding her hand, I drew her with me and we passed through rooms where people stood about, and then left the house. As we drove away, she said her name was Margo. She was a freshman at the university, from a town in northern Michigan. I took her home. It was obvious she'd never gone home with a man. She didn't seem fearful, only uncertain, the question in her eyes: "What happens next?" What happened next was nothing much. We fell asleep in our clothes. I wasn't the one to make her no different from everyone. ~ Leonard Michaels

From early Colonial days, sex life in America had been based on the custom of men supporting women. That situation reached its heyday in the Twenties when it was easy for any dabbler in stocks to flaunt his manhood by lavishing an unearned income on girls. But with the stock-market crash, men were hard put even to keep their wives, let alone spend money on sex outside the home. The adjustment was much easier on women than on men, who jumped out of windows in droves, whereas I can't recall a single headline that read: KEPT GIRL LEAPS FROM LOVE NEST. ~ Anita Loos

I was always very maternal with my friends. I wasn't the kind of little girl that played with dolls and pretended I was the mommy. I wasn't that child, so when I say I was always maternal, I don't mean in that sense - but I've always been a nurturer. ~ Kim Fields

Fixate on whole cultures, not specific pieces of poverty. No specific intervention is going to turn around the life of a child or an adult in any consistent way, but if you can surround a person with a new culture, and different web of relationships, then they will absorb new habits of thought and behavior in ways you will never be able to measure or understand. And if you do surround that person with a new, enriching culture, then you had better keep surrounding them with it, because if they slip back into a different culture, and most of the gains will fade away. ~ David Brooks

Boy meets girl. Boy marries girl. Boy and girl angst over which family they visit at Thanksgiving and which one in December and whether or not it's best to serve turkey or goose for the family feast. When first faced with the reality that the family you married into does things differently, the warmth of tradition can take on a chill. ~ Margaret Kennedy

Norah looked at her son's tiny face, surprised, as always, by his name. he had not grown into it yet, he still wore it like a wrist band, something that might easily slip off and disappear. She had read about people – where? she could not remember this either – who refused to name their children for several weeks, feeling them to be not yet of the earth, suspended still between two worlds. ~ Kim Edwards

You said to imagine a great big sphere, and inside is all of time and space. All of it. And outside are these intelligent entities, and all they are is curious; all they want to do is experience."
"Go on," Alice said. Her eyes are so bright.…
"One might say: 'I want the experience of being a seventeen-year-old girl in the fourteenth century who was burned at the stake.' Or 'I'd like the experience of being a four-month aborted fetus in 1994.' And they just dive in and do it." I looked at Alice. She was waiting for something. I thought about what I just said, and then I remembered: "They have to create what happens. Write a script." She still waited, so I said, "Not only the experience itself; the house, the city, the country, the whole world where it happens. All of it."
"Which makes that entity responsible for all of it," she reminded me.
"So that's who the 'little man watching' really is - that, that thing - "
"Not a thing," she said, interrupting for the very first time. "It's you. You're living a script that you wrote. Which is why free will and predestination are the same thing. ~ Theodore Sturgeon

Wanderess, Wanderess,
weave us a story of seduction and ruse.
Heroic be the Wanderess,
the world be her muse. ~ Roman Payne

Listen to me, Daddy. When you get your head out of your ass, you know where to find me. I'm not the kind of girl that will sit around and wait, but I promise you this right now - there won't ever be a man that I want more than you. ~ Alexa Riley

They snatched the girl off her tire swing in the backyard and dragged her into the woods; her body made a shallow track in the snow, from her world to mine. I saw it happen. I didn't stop it.
It had been the longest, coldest winter of my life. Day after day under a pale, worthless sun. And the hunger- hunger that burned and gnawed, an insatiable master. ~ Maggie Stiefvater

I can tell by the look on Hagin's face that he had eaten some of my food. It is amazing those boys aren't fat. ~ R.A. Smith

As I finished my rice, I sketched out the plot of a pornographic adventure film called The Massage Room. Sirien, a young girl from northern Thailand, falls hopelessly in love with Bob, an American student who winds up in the massage parlor by accident, dragged there by his buddies after a fatefully boozy evening. Bob doesn't touch her, he's happy just to look at her with his lovely, pale-blue eyes and tell her about his hometown - in North Carolina, or somewhere like that. They see each other several more times, whenever Sirien isn't working, but, sadly, Bob must leave to finish his senior year at Yale. Ellipsis. Sirien waits expectantly while continuing to satisfy the needs of her numerous clients. Though pure at heart, she fervently jerks off and sucks paunchy, mustached Frenchmen (supporting role for Gerard Jugnot), corpulent, bald Germans (supporting role for some German actor). Finally, Bob returns and tries to free her from her hell - but the Chinese mafia doesn't see things in quite the same light. Bob persuades the American ambassador and the president of some humanitarian organization opposed to the exploitation of young girls to intervene (supporting role for Jane Fonda). What with the Chinese mafia (hint at the Triads) and the collusion of Thai generals (political angle, appeal to democratic values), there would be a lot of fight scenes and chase sequences through the streets of Bangkok. At the end of the day, Bob carries her off. But in the penultimate scene, Siri ~ Michel Houellebecq