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Daisy L. Stewart Quotes

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Famous Daisy L. Stewart Quotes

“It isn't easy, being a wicked stepfather. There are no guidelines. Western literature is filled with tips on how to become a wicked stepmother. Give your stepkid a poison apple. Make her clean the chimney while your daughters go to the ball. Ditch them in a forest and make them find their way home with bread crumbs. Stepfathers don't get an instruction manual. They have to learn to be wicked on their own.”

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Book:Stepfathers Are People Too
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“I'm not sure what's in those treats. According to the labels, the ones in the blue cartons are flavored with chicken, the ones in the red cartons taste like meat and the ones in the pink cartons contain tuna. My guess is that all three are full of high-grade crack. There is nothing my stepcat, the junkie, will not do to get these treats. He will leap over a can of tuna to get to them. He will break into a cage filled with rabid pit bulldogs to get to them. He will confess is sins on Oprah Winfrey's show to get them.”

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Book:Stepfathers Are People Too
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“So we reached a compromise. It was item No. 1 in the prenuptial agreement. It was, in fact, the only item in the prenuptial agreement. Since she already owned a gas grill, I would agree to having occasional cookouts on our patio. But if she insisted on eating burnt food, she would have to burn it herself. As Donald Trump found out, a prenuptial agreement is not always worth the disappearing ink it is written with. On a Sunday afternoon of our first summer together, I find myself on the patio, chewing smoke. But it is a compromise.”

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Book:Stepfathers Are People Too
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“It is a satisfying sleep, made even more enjoyable by a dream which, as nearly as I can recall, has something to do with Marla Maples and a long feather. The details are hazy, but I remember her saying something about being sick of yachts and diamonds and what she really wanted all along was a middle-aged newspaper writer who could take her bowling. She is purring and calling me "The D.L." And then she produces this long feather and starts to brush it gently across my forehead, then down my cheek and over my lips and... Which is when I wake up and realize that it is not a dream. Something really is brushing across my face. I open one eye. The first thing I see is not Marla, It is not even Ivana. It is the southern end of a northbound cat. "Get out of my face," I mumble.”

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Book:Stepfathers Are People Too
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