Girl Quotes - Page 5

A girl would be lucky to have you, but not like this, Carmine. Not the way you treat people now. You're wasting your time, and it's not worth it. You need to find something that is. So, maybe your life isn’t boring, but it has to be unfulfilling.

He shook his head, just looking at me. - "What?" I asked.- "Nothing" he said.- "Why are you looking at me like that?"Augustus half smiled. "Because you`re beautiful. I enjoy looking at beautiful people, and I decided a while ago not to deny myself the simpler pleasures of existence." A brief awkward silence ensued. Augustus plowed through: "I mean, particularly given that, as you so deliciously pointed out, all of this will end in oblivion and everything."I kind of scoffed or sighed or exhaled in a way that was vaguely coughy and then said, "I`m not beau-"- "You are like a millennial Natalie Portman. Like V for Vendetta Natalie Portman."- "Never seen it."- "Really?" he asked. "Pixie-haired gorgeous girl dislikes authority and can`t help but fall for a boy she knows is trouble. It`s your autobiography, so far as I can tell."His every syllable flirted. Honestly, he kind of turned me on. I didn`t even know that guys could turn me on - not, like, in real life.

If a tree falls in the woods when no one is there, does it still make a noise? If a girl dies in the woods when no one is there, does anyone care? If no one knows I am here, do I even exist?

If in doubt, cheese has been always the answer..

When life gives you lemons, do NOT make lemonade. Lemonade is for losers. Make orange juice instead.

2. Stutter. I can be on the phone for hours with my best friend, but if confronted by a cute guy, wham! I get power outage, my brain is short circuited. You'd be lucky to get anything out of me besides "er...um...uh..." and a ton of blushing.3.Stumble. I trip over my own feet. Yeah it's easy to do that when you're five feet seven and gangly, but I managed to make the dance teacher cry when I was five years old. Or even worse, I knock things over and spill things over and spill food.

Give a girl a boyfriend and she becomes a total expert on relationships

I'm an ugly girl,My face makes you hurl,Sad I have it, I should bag it.Acne everywhere, Unwanted facial hair.I'm a relation to Frankenstein's creation.

Not everyone man is a lover, not every love is the love.

The happening that happened was that I met this girl ...

All you have to do, to impress a girl is love her; because it'll make you do things which will impress her automatically

A mother gives you a life, a mother-in-law gives you her life.

The Decision...I wiped my hands on my pinaforenow sullied and stainednot crisp or pressedas it had been before...

A lovely girl gazing at the stars, and the stars who gazed back.

Practically, speaking up against street harassment is not about being a hero, getting credit points to be in the good books of a girl or a chance to impress anyone. It is about making sure that everyone has the right to enjoy that spring breeze, golden clouds and chirping without feeling uncomfortable.

Making God a man is the consolation prize that our forefathers gave themselves for not being the ones who were each blessed with a vagina.

Do we have a hand mirror?' I asked from the kitchen doorway.'Never use one,' said Lester, examining the date on a carton of sour cream.'Naturally, you're a male. What you see is what you've got,' I said resentfully.'Huh?' said Lester.

I’m not comfortable in this stadium,” I explained, trying to look calm.“I know. And you hate Fang looking at those girls. But we’re still havingfun, and Fang still loves you, and you’ll still save the world. Okay?

No one asks how or what I am doing. They could not care less. We’re all looking glasses, we girls, existing only to reflect their images back to them as they’d like to be seen. Hollow vessels of girls to be rinsed of our own ambitions, wants, and opinions, just waiting to be filled with the cool, tepid water of gracious compliance.A fissure forms in the vessel. I’m cracking open.

Before letting someone hold your heart in their hands, make sure their hands are clean.

A little girl and her father were walking along in the evening. She was fascinated by the stars, and kept looking up at them, but made no comment until her father asked what she was thinking. She replied, "If the bottom side of heaven is so beautiful, how wonderful the other side must be

Hand in hand they whispered for a while. The girl nodded and the bear laughed. Together, they made their way down the corridor and to the foot of the stairs.

She has this amazing aura around her which catches you off-guard. A girl’s innocence combined with a woman’s sensitivity. A charm that is alluring and attractive at the same time.

Here is a girl who is pretty in a quiet way. I bet she's had a very sad life.

The words ‘I love you’ are worthless when you don’t know who the 'I' is in that statement.

Feminism is not a one size fits all kinda thing but anyone can wear it.

… MOM!” Martha finally screamed. “Mom, you’ve got to see these!”“Is it about Hermione?” She exclaimed, rushing into the middle of the room. Her mouth dropped open in horror when she noticed Hermione’s walls.“I can’t find any… polite… photos of her, mom.”“Why are there ones of her eating out of dumpsters and giving seniors the finger?”“No idea,” Martha replied.“Oh god… I’ll get one out of my wallet,” Her mom decided, hurrying out of the room frantically. ...It’s funny how when one thing happens, it can make you forget about something else.

The pressure of his touch through my jacket and my sweater was more assurance than any promise ever made to me. It was a touch that said, I have your back and I am here for you. If a girl wasn't careful, she could fall in love with a touch like that.

When no possessions keep us, when no countries contain us, and no time detains us, man becomes a heroic wanderer, and woman, a wanderess.

He felt a little lost, after that experience. Lost as the girls on their knees. It was a never-ending story of young girls losing themselves, such that they were no longer humans with any souls or characters, but pretty girls with fat asses and nice tits.

It’s like returning to a familiar room and noticing objects had been moved while you were gone—a chair here, a picture frame there. Items that were once brand new were suddenly broken in and worn from age. It was all very subtle, but enough to suspect paranormal activity or a cruel practical joke. When no one else saw what you saw, the freak factor really kicked in, because you were singled out and left questioning reality." ~Ellia

I feel like men are more romantic than women. When we get married we marry, like, one girl, 'cause we're resistant the whole way until we meet one girl and we think I'd be an idiot if I didn't marry this girl she's so great. But it seems like girls get to a place where they just kinda pick the best option... 'Oh he's got a good job.' I mean they spend their whole life looking for Prince Charming and then they marry the guy who's got a good job and is gonna stick around.

dark say:berthenia bellenever forgetthe tongue hid name

You only fix something, when it’s broken. And you - are far from broken.

Can there be anything more sad than a girl dying on the day of her first communion, in her new dress. A little bride of death...

But it was too late. I was down the steps and out the door, where the warm night air almost felt like forgiveness.

He's seen me at my stray dog lowest and still he stood behind me, did everything he could to help me. He saw the future I could have before I even wanted it for myself, and he was the one to push me towards it. That's faith. Growing up, I thought faith was about believing Jesus died for us and that if I held on to that, I'd get to meet him when I died too. But faith doesn't mean that to me anymore. Now it means someone seeing something in you that you've never seen in yourself, and not giving up until you see it too. I want that. I miss that.

She walks,on the streets,with a face that,doesn't belong.It smiles more than,many put together,whole day long.Her heart misfit,a little chipped.And she likes to,call it once broken,but now stitched.

Beauty is an illusion.

You’re really a good girl, poor you.

I swear that girl was born with a pen in her hand, the moon in her hair, and stars in her soul.

People are crazy about food, smoking, drinking, girls but not about their dreams.

This is a girl you can’t keep. You aren’t allowed to.

At the high school a pretty girl strolled across the parking lot to her black stallion, let her cigarette dangle from her lips while she put on her helmet, adjusted her goggles. Throwing a slender white leg over the side she jacked her little backside up and down a few times, exciting the steed. Now she came down on his back and he squatted, moaning to the soft squeeze of her hand, then at her sudden clutch shot out fast between the press of her knees. Claude looked down at his shoes as they passed, having seen nothing. But he glanced up in time to watch them glide off under the next streetlamp, the gleaming beast appearing almost languid with release, very pleased with himself and with the girl who clung to his back, small and stiff and unsatisfied.She had been noticed: everywhere along the way the leaning people looked after her as though wondering if the new week had finally begun, then they looked at one another, then back at nothing.

Amanda, you finally decided to answer the phone,” her mom exclaimed after picking up at the first ring. “Where’ve you been, what’ve you been up to?”“Mom, do you remember when I was a kid, I had a friend, he was a Personification of the Sydney Tar Ponds, sort of my imaginary friend?” Mandy asked.“No, what in the name of god are you on about?” her mom sighed in exasperation.“Remember? Only I could see him, but he was real and he was my best friend when I was eighteen?” Mandy insisted.“No, I don't remember Alecto Sydney Steele at all,” said her mom all too quickly.

He’d never thought of death like that, like it’s some sort of other life that you can hope for, dream of. Escape to. That it can rescue you.

But what I do believe is that if you're a girl who was born in Homsea, a girl who lives in a nothing kind of house with an ordinary kind of family, then you can't know everything about the world and that it's probably good to keep an open mind about things, just in case.

He was the kind of boy any young girl should date while she's still able to recover.

A society where feminine beauty is defined not by the human self on genuine intellectual and sentimental grounds, but by a computer software on the grounds of economic interest, is more dead than alive. It is a society of human bodies, not human beings.

Never fight for a girl; while pounding each other, someone is already making plans to whisk her away.

Sometimes things need shaking up. You’ve got to test the limits.

She'd hurt him, but she'd attempted everything in her power to make things right. She'd shown him in a thousand ways that she was honorable and strong and generous and very human, maybe even more vividly human than anyone he'd ever known.

Empowered girls will be the women that change this world.

She loves filming and taking photographs. I can imagine her making beautiful films in France or India or somewhere with a gorgeously colourful culture. She somehow reminds me of my favourite place in the world, she and Paris I can romanticize and immortalize in ceaseless poetry for the rest of my life.

I stare past her at the inspirational kitten posters. There's one of a soaking-wet kitten climbing out of a toilet with the caption "it could be worse!""Just tell me whatever it is you're thinking," Mrs. Paulsen says. "Whatever is going through your mind right now.""I hope they didn't actually drop a cat in the toilet to get that picture," I choke out. "...Pardon?""Nothing. Sorry.

Women are extraordinary creatures!

The front desk man is a spy for a famous French chef, hoping to stealing the pastry recipes of the shop down the street. And the lovely shop girl who just delivered a box of-- what is most certainly-- pastries is his secret accomplice. The note she passed him while blushing has a recipe for the perfect croissant.

Development is better than Girl-friend

What a face this girl possessed!—could I not gaze at it every day I would need to recreate it through painting, sculpture, or fatherhood until a second such face is born.

People say I'm not much of a girl either," Tiger Lily said.She thought of Tik Tok, who was fond of saying that people were all bits of each thing, boy and girl.