I jerk around and see Sister Dora, a portly woman who's the head cook in the kitchen, staring daggers at me. This is nothing new. She stares daggers at everyone who walks through the lunch line holding a tray, as though our needing sustenance is a personal affront.
- Ci sono divergenze di natura teologica su... Vediamo, per esempio sulla raffigurazione latina del purgatorio. - C'è qualcuno a cui frega una cippa di minchia della raffigurazione latina del purgatorio? - reagisce Dio, versandosi dell'altro caffè.
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.
After reading some of my stories, I once had a friend say to me, "I'd love to spend five minutes in your head to see what's going on in there." I warned them, "If you spent five seconds in my mind you'd probably run out screaming and never speak to me again.
Just so you know, I hate camping. I'm not so much appreciating the fact that there's no bathroom out here. 'Nature calls' while walking in nature is on my list of least favorite things. You tigers, and men in general, have it so much easier than us girls.
There is a safety mechanism in place [to ensure the perambulator doesn't turn back into a purse with a baby in it] : if anything weighing more than a pound and a half-about the weight of a three-volume novel-is in the carriage of the perambulator, it will not transform.
In Russia, as I sat there day after day wearing headphones, listening to the interpreter struggle to make our words relevant, I wondered if we could establish meaningful rapport with a nation that had never seen raisins dance in dark glasses on TV...never had a garage sale.
The baby, not too young to start knowing the ledge, the cold truth, the life-and-death facts of it all. 'What kind of heaven is that, you can't have your records?' The baby, understanding perhaps it was purely rhetorical, made no attempt to answer this question.
I have a theory about pink pastry boxes. So much joy comes from those boxes. When someone walks into a room with a pink pastry box, joy immediately fills the room. World peace? Three words. Pink pastry box. I get a big cup of coffee and finalize my plans for world domination.
Are you going to be all right now?" Loki asked. He'd walked me over here, and he waited just inside the doorway."Yeah I'm great," I lied and sat on the bed. "The entire kingdom is falling apart. People are dying. I have to kill my father. And my husband just went crazy
I'm not helping any of you freaks!" she shouts. "I'm not the Witch of Wayland, you hear me? I'm sick of all you mutants pounding on my door for love spells and all the like! I told you, I don't do that backwoods modern-day, wannabe Wiccafuck stuff! You hear me?
Jim: I want you to search every place in this hotel where a crate of dynamite could possibly be stored.Artie: Right. And if I find it?Jim: I'll arrange for someone to pour cold water over your face to revive you.Wild Wild West (TV) Season 2Night of the Infernal Machine
Sergeant Colon owed thirty years of happy marriage to the fact that Mrs. Colon worked all day and Sargent Colon worked all night. They communicated by means of notes. They had three grown-up children, all born, Vimes had assumed, as a result of extremely persuasive handwriting.
We fell to wrestling again. We rolled all over the floor, in each other's arms, like two huge helpless children. He was naked and goatish under his robe, and I felt suffocated as he rolled over me. I rolled over him. We rolled over me. They rolled over him. We rolled over us.
Indeed! I am truly glad to hear it. I always always fond of Osborne; and, do you know, I never really took to Roger; I respected him and all that, of course. But to compare him with Mr. Henderson! Mr. Henderson is so handsome and well-bred, and gets all his gloves from Houbigant!
