Quotes About Julia

Quotes tagged as "julia" (showing 1-30 of 41)
David Levithan
“Here's what I think. We all want someone to build a fort with. We want somebody to swap crayons with and play hide-and-seek with and live out imaginary stories with. We start out getting that from our family. Then we get it from our friends. And then, for whatever reasons, we get it in our heads that we need to get that feeling- that intimacy- from a single someone else. We call if growing up. But really, when you take sex out of it, what we want is a companion. And we make that so damn hard to find.”
David Levithan, Are We There Yet?

“I need a Kleenex.” She sniffs.
Guy disengages his hands from hers, takes the hem of his
sweatshirt, and wipes her nose with it.
“That’s romantic,” she says, embarrassed.
“Well, it is sort of, because I wouldn’t do it for anybody else
in the world.”
Julia Hoban, Willow

Sylvain Reynard
“It isn't God who's evil-it's us.......Everyone wants to know where evil comes from and why the world is riddle with it. Why doesn't anyone ask where goodness comes from? Human beings have a tremendous capacity for cruelty. Why is there any goodness at all? Why are people like Grace and Richard so kind? Because there's a God, and he hasn't allowed the earth to be entirely corrupted. There are sticky like leaves, if you look for them. And when you recognize them, you can feel his presence.”
Sylvain Reynard, Gabriel's Rapture

Julia Quinn
“She tried to remind herself that beauty was only skin deep, but that didn't offer any helpful excuses when she was berating herself for never knowing what to say to people. There was nothing more depressing than an ugly girl with no personality.”
Julia Quinn, Romancing Mister Bridgerton

Sylvain Reynard
“My dad is here," She hissed, hoping to give Gabriel enough of a head start so he could make it to the elevators before Tom took out one of his hunting rifles and shot him.
"I know, I called him."
She turned to Gabriel in wide-eyed disbelief. "Why would you do that? He wants to kill you."
The Professor pulled himself up to his full height. "I want to marry you. That means that I need to make amends with your father. I want to be able to be in the same room without him attempting to shoot me. Or castrate me.”
Sylvain Reynard, Gabriel's Rapture

Sylvain Reynard
“Gabriel caught her hand in his and pressed his open mouth to her palm. “Julianne, you were never just my student. You’re my soul mate. My bashert.”
Sylvain Reynard, Gabriel's Rapture

Sylvain Reynard
“You toyed with her heart. I know what that’s like. I can have compassion for her because of that.”
“I met you first,” he whispered.
“That doesn’t give you license to be cruel.”
Sylvain Reynard, Gabriel's Rapture

Chuck Klosterman
“Maybe I don't need a relationship after all, she thought. Maybe thinking about these conversations was just as good as having them. She could sit in her Honda in the dark and experience whatever kind of life she wanted. Sometimes you think, Hey, maybe there's something else out there. But there really isn't. This is what being alive feels like, you know? The place doesn't matter. You just live.”
Chuck Klosterman, Downtown Owl
tags: julia

Eleanor Catton
“I’ve been looking at all the ordinary staples of flirting," says Julia, "like biting your lip and looking away just a second too late, and laughing a lot and finding every excuse to touch, light fingertips on a forearm or a thigh that emphasize and punctuate the laughter. I’ve been thinking about what a comfort these things are, these textbook methods, precisely because they need no decoding, no translation. Once, a long time ago, you could probably bite your lip and it would mean, I am almost overcome with desiring you. Now you bite your lip and it means, I want you to see that I am almost overcome with desiring you, so I am using the plainest and most universally accepted symbol I can think of to make you see. Now it means, Both of us know the implications of my biting my lip, and what I am trying to say. We are speaking a language, you and I together, a language that we did not invent, a language that is not unique to our uttering. We are speaking someone else’s lines. It’s a comfort.”
Eleanor Catton, The Rehearsal

Amy Andrews
“Scarlett lived by the (thankfully) ancient medical creed: If it tastes awful and smells worse, it’s probably good for you.
Julia wasn’t so sure about that. She lived by the edict: If it tastes awful and smells worse, leave it the hell alone. On the other hand, if it tasted good and smelled better, you either ate it, squirted it on your neck or fucked it.
It hadn’t led her wrong so far.”
Amy Andrews, Numbered

Victoria Lynne
“He ran his knuckles over her cheek as their gazes met and held. So much. He had been given so much.
The sound of their daughters’ high-pitched laughter drew their gazes away from each other nd toward their children. The girls came running toward them, breathless and excited. Their hair was messed in tousled disarray, their gowns were smeared with dirt, their skin was flushed and rosy. They leaped onto the blanket, tumbling over each other like exuberant puppies as they wrapped their chubby arms about his neck. “Papa, Papa, we want a new game!”
Morgan thought for a moment, overcome with a profound sense of gratitude.
Of all he had been given, perhaps the most significant gift was a deep reverence for life, with all its pain and all its glory. Every loss had meaning. And every day was a new
reason for celebration.”
Victoria Lynne, With this Kiss

Alyssa Brugman
“I can see where this is going, too. Of course, I can, because I am Alex as well. But I want to dress up in gorgeous clothes and strut up and down the runway like they do in the magazines, swishing my tail. I want to dress up with Amina and Julia and giggle and be girlfriends, arm in arm. I want to be beautiful. I want other people to think I am beautiful.”
Alyssa Brugman, Alex As Well

Ros Baxter
“Why this girl? Why had this girl crawled right under his skin and made an uncomfortable home there? Why did he want to make things good for her, to see her smile, to make her face
and her voice make all those interesting shapes and noises? Why did he want to stay up late with her when he knew she should be sleeping, just to hear her talk about maths and politics and the
state of the world?
This was not Quentin. Quentin did not like skinny girls. He didn’t like serious girls. And he really hated bossy girls.
Quentin loved curvy, fun, uncomplicated girls; girls who laughed at his jokes and took off their bras when they danced on tables. If they wore bras at all. Yet here he was, washing up and mopping and feeling like five kinds of an arsehole over hurting the feelings of some skinny, serious, bossy girl.”
Ros Baxter, Numbered

Amy Andrews
“She’d never met someone so young who was so damn cocky. Most twenty-year-old guys she knew were either gauche or monosyllabic in her presence, but not Spike. There was a directness, a confidence in his inky-blue eyes that a lot of men never mastered.
Cleary Spike was getting laid far too easily.”
Amy Andrews, Numbered

Amy Andrews
“We’ll make a wellness altar, I think … have some incense burn¬ing, fresh flowers every day and string some lights around it …’
Poppy rolled her head to the side. ‘Still think it’s a good idea?’
Julia blanched at the tackiness of a wellness altar with fairy lights and a water feature, but what the hell, she already had a three-metre girly snake ruining the ambience. ‘Sure,’ she said. If it made Scarlett happy.
Poppy laughed. ‘I’m going to remind you of this conversation when your apartment looks like a Chinese brothel.”
Amy Andrews

Amy Andrews
“Look,’ she said, sidling a little closer to him in the lift. ‘I understand this wasn’t what you bargained for when some cute girl at the café dared you to jump out of a plane with her. You were in it for thrills and sex and you got breast-cancer girl, her terrifying friend and her flaky mother. That’s above and beyond. And I totally get you’re here because you’d feel like some louse if you left her now, but it’s okay, she’s going to be fine, I’m going to take good care of her.”
Amy Andrews

Amy Andrews
“Oh I bet you’re sweet as under all that posh.’
And he looked at her in a way that left her in no doubt that he wasn’t talking about the way she might move on the dance floor. If he mentioned honey pots she was going to pour her vodka shot over him. ‘You’ll never know,”
Amy Andrews, Numbered

Amy Andrews
“I bet if cancer of the penis was more prevalent there’d be a cure for this fucker. I bet if dicks were being amputated or dropping off left, right and centre there’d have been a cure decades ago. There’d be a whole fucking government dick department dedicated to it.”
Amy Andrews, Numbered

Amy Andrews
“Poppy Devine did not deserve cancer. Poppy was sweet and industrious and careful and measured and always, always did the right thing. If anyone deserved cancer it was Julia. Julia was loud and opinionated and disagreeable. Rude, some might even say. She went out with bad men, took unnecessary risks, pushed people to their limits, swore like a sailor and flipped the bird more than any female in the history of the world.
It should be her number coming up in the cancer lottery.”
Amy Andrews, Numbered

Amy Andrews
“He kissed her then. Not tentative. Not polite.
This was no first-kiss kiss. It was demanding. Dirty. And it went on and on. Deep, open-mouthed, head-twisting, tongue-fucking, rock’n’roll kissing.”
Amy Andrews, Numbered

Ros Baxter
“Quentin Carmody didn’t do early mornings, heights or bossy women.”
Ros Baxter, Numbered

Ros Baxter
“Quentin flicked a quick glance back at her again. Poppy. This girl had the wrong name. She should have been Rose. Great face, lots of prickles.”
Ros Baxter

Ros Baxter
“Quentin had told Spike that inking ‘percussion’ across your
knuckles was kind of lame. It takes more than ten letters to make
a badass knuckle tattoo. That was the problem with drummers.
They didn’t listen. But they always seemed to get laid anyway.”
Ros Baxter, Numbered

Ros Baxter
“He shook his head at her question. Did women really think men cared about that stuff? Did he care if she did this all the time? Definitely, definitely not. He could honestly say he did not give a flying fuck whether this girl dragged guys home every other day to have her way with them for seven hours. He was just glad as hell she’d decided to do it with him. Today. And hopefully maybe again. Sometime.”
Ros Baxter, Numbered

Ros Baxter
“She frowned, and the effect was so pretty he wondered if he was going mad. Why did he find this cranky, kooky woman so damned appealing? He knew for a fact he could go out tonight and drag home some hot, willing chick who would stroke his ego and never argue with him about anything. He closed his eyes and remembered just how good that felt. Willing women; god bless them.”
Ros Baxter, Numbered

“Ten looked confounded that anyone would consider the world’s most slavishly adored hot beverage in such a way. Julia felt momentarily sorry for him. He seemed like a guy who’d had it all figured out – join a band and get himself laid every night of the week. Living the dream.
He had no fucking clue what was ahead of him.”
Amy Andrews, Ros Baxter

Ros Baxter
“Quentin wasn’t stupid, despite living what his father called ‘a lifestyle unworthy of yourself’.”
Ros Baxter, Numbered

Ros Baxter
“It had seemed like a good idea at the time, a sure-fire way to impress this girl, who was as cute as hell but wound tighter than one of his father’s antique clocks.”
Ros Baxter, Numbered

Amy Andrews
“Julia had been angry most of her life. She may have grown up in wealth and privilege but she’d had to fight to be heard and seen. To be validated. To be something other than a piece to be moved around her parents’ Monopoly board. Rage had given her a voice against their manipulations and the guts to walk away. But it had also become ingrained.
There were times when she’d contemplated therapy for it. Right now, she was pleased she hadn’t.
If anything could kill this cancer it would be the weight of Julia’s wrath.”
Amy Andrews, Numbered

Ros Baxter
“As an ex-footballer, sometimes surfer and wannabe rock star, Quentin had been fucked by cheerleaders, surfer girls and groupies, but he had never, ever been fucked like that.”
Ros Baxter, Numbered

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