Lysa > Lysa's Quotes

“He's like a drug for you, Bella.”
― Stephenie Meyer, Eclipse

“I love you like a fat kid loves cake!”
― Scott Adams

“I am only responsible for my own heart, you offered yours up for the smashing my darling. Only a fool would give out such a vital organ”
― Anais Nin

“Goddamn it, do it yourself. You’re five hundred years old and you can’t use a telephone? Read the directions. What are you, an immortal idiot?”
― Anne Rice, The Queen of the Damned

“You hold onto what you have; you do not give it up easily, even when you know it is poisoning you.”
― Poppy Z. Brite, Wormwood

“The night is the hardest time to be alive and 4am knows all my secrets.”
― Poppy Z. Brite

“I'm a misunderstood genius."
"What's misunderstood?"
"Nobody thinks I'm a genius.”
― Bill Watterson

“It's not denial. I'm just selective about the reality I accept.”
― Bill Watterson

“You know, Hobbes, some days even my lucky rocket ship underpants don't help.”
― Bill Watterson

“I think we dream so we don't have to be apart so long. If we're in each other's dreams, we can play together all night.”
― Bill Watterson

“Girls are like slugs—they probably serve some purpose, but it's hard to imagine what.”
― Bill Watterson, The Authoritative Calvin and Hobbes: A Calvin and Hobbes Treasury

“I like my smock. You can tell the quality of the artist by the quality of his smock. Actually, I just like to say smock. Smock smock smock smock smock smock.”
― Bill Watterson, The Complete Calvin and Hobbes

“I'm selfish, impatient and a little insecure. I make mistakes, I am out of control and at times hard to handle. But if you can't handle me at my worst, then you sure as hell don't deserve me at my best.”
― Marilyn Monroe

“Beauty is in the eye of the beholder and it may be necessary from time to time to give a stupid or misinformed beholder a black eye.”
― Jim Henson

“The trouble with having an open mind, of course, is that people will insist on coming along and trying to put things in it.”
― Terry Pratchett, Diggers

“Beard a little long, hair, too, but it gave him a rough-hewn edge—the beauty of a tree rather than the clean-sawn board. All those nooks and crannies, the texture and topography of the bark, the knots, the lines of imperfect grain. Raw, unmachined, and blissfully uneven. That was Nate. Her Nate.”
― Chuck Wendig, The Book of Accidents