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J Quotes

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All J Quotes

“Jules has always been one of those women that men go crazy about because she has enough self-confidence to say this is me, take it or leave it. And, invariably, they take it. Or at least try to. They love the fact that she doesn’t wear makeup. That her clothes, on her tiny, petite frame, are a mishmash of whatever she happens to pull out of the wardrobe that morning. That her laugh is huge and infectious, and, most of all, that she listens. She loves life, and people, and makes time for them, and even before Jamie came along men were forever falling in love with her.”

“Jules, I’ll tell you now what I would have told you at dinner if you’d been speakin’ to me. This,” he said, one hand dropping to my bottom and pulling my hips into his, one going up my back to press my torso to his chest, “is the sweetest thing I’ve had in my life and I haven’t even f**ked you yet. I never expected to get a chance at anything so sweet and now that I got it, I’m not gonna let it go.”

“Jules lips quivered, and I feared she was about to cry. Then she asked, “He bit off more than he could chew, didn’t he?” She made a motion as if she was biting into a tough piece of steak. Gabriella’s lips sealed shut as she tried to hide her grin, though she failed at it when Andrew asked, “Was he eating?” He turned desperately to Gabriella, confused. Jules wasn’t about to cry, she was trying not to laugh! She giggled then, the sound tinkling and odd in the outlandish setting. Andrew straightened and shook his head at Gabriella. “Did you see him eat?”

“Jules says there are three things that make you a grown-up: an eight-piece set of matching dishes; gin, vodka and whiskey in the house; and making your bed every morning. I disagree with her. I think you're officially a grown-up when you've got another half. When you don't have to live in fear of other couples. When you don't have to feel you're not good enough.”

“Julguei que ia morrer. Queria morrer. E julguei que se fosse morrer ia morrer contigo. Rapazes como tu, jovens como eu…vi morrer tantos ao pé de mim durante o ano passado! Não tive medo nenhum. Não foi coragem o que ainda agora me fez ficar aqui. Pensei com os meus botões: "Temos esta cama, esta erva, devíamos ter-nos deitado juntados, abraçados, antes de morrer". Apeteceu-me tocar-te nesse osso do pescoço, a clavícula, que parece uma asa pequena e dura debaixo da pele. Apeteceu-me afagá-la com os dedos. Sempre gostei de corpos da cor dos rios e das pedras, da cor do olho castanho de uma susana, conheces essa flor? Já viste alguma? Estou tão cansada Kip, só me apetece dormir. Apetece-me dormir debaixo desta árvore, de cara encostada à tua clavícula, apetece-me fechar os olhos, sem pensar em mais ninguém, encontrar um nicho de árvore, trepar lá para dentro e dormir. Que espírito meticuloso! Saber que fio hás de cortar. Como é que soubeste? Foste dizendo não sei, não sei, mas sabias. Não foi? Não tremas, tens de ser uma cama sossegada para mim, deixa-me aninhar-me, abraçar-te como se fosses um avozinho, adiro a palavra "aninhar", tão lenta, não se pode apressá-la.”

“Julia closed her eyes and concentrated on the words to Lacrimosa, sung loudly and hauntingly by the multi-voice choir in Latin… Day of Weeping,on which will rise from ashes guilty man for judgment. So have mercy, O Lord, on this man. Compassionate Lord Jesus, grant them rest. Amen. What is wrong with Gabriel that he listens to this over and over again? And what does it say about me that I can’t help but feel close to him when I listen to it? All I’ve done is replace his photograph with his cd — I’m just not sleeping with it under my pillow. I am one sick puppy.”

“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.”

“Julia had no trouble believing that, but she suspected his challenging demeanor was his way of keeping people at a distance. Sadly it was a strategy she understood all too well.Trusting by nature, she'd learned the hard way that when you let someone too close, they discovered all kinds of things about you. That kind of intimate knowledge gave them the chance to hurt you so deeply, it took all your strength just to put one foot in front of the other.”

“Julia", I answered breathlessly. "Chloe, are you in the bathroom fucking that nice slice of man cake?" "I'll be there in a second, okay?" I ended the call and shoved the phone back into my bag. I looked up at him, feeling my rational side return after the small interruption. "I should go." "Look, I-" He was cut off as my phone rang again. I answered without bothering to look at the screen. "God, Julia! I’m not in here fucking the piece of man cake!" "Chloe?" Joel's confused voice sounded through the phone. "Oh... hi." Shit. This could not be happening to me.”

“Julia, is everything all right?” her father said in a raspy voice. “It’s three in the morning, m’ija.” “I’m sorry. I have to talk to you; it’s something very important. Papá, Mamá, I’ve made a decision, and I wanted to share it with you. I’ve decided to convert to the Muslim religion.” “What?” Pilar screamed. “Are you out of your mind?” “Julia, what are you saying?” “I want to be a Muslim. I’ve even chosen a new Muslim name, Aliyah.” “Julia, are you drunk?” “No, Papá, I’m not drunk. I’ve thought about this for a very long time. I think it’s the right thing for me, a way to follow God.”

“Julia Kline, you’ve spent your whole life running and all you’ve done is run farther away from the love that’s been waiting for you all along. The first time you smiled at me with your two missing teeth you had my undivided attention. When you laugh, I want to laugh with you. When you cry, I want to be the one to hold you. When you said you loved me, you highjacked my heart forever. They say that love is the condition in which the happiness of another person is essential to your own. Your happiness is what I will spend the rest of my life striving to give you. I love you so much. Will you do the honor of marrying me?”

“Julia looked at her watch. "Lunchtime," she announced, opening the picnic basket she had packed at the bed and breakfast. "Anybody besides me hungry?" "I'm always hungry," Giordino called out from the back of the boat. "Amazing." Pitt shook his head incredulously. "At twelve feet away, outside in a breeze with the roar of the outboard motor, he can still hear the mere mention of food." "What delicacies have you prepared?" Giordino asked Julia, having dragged himself to the cabin doorway. "Apples, granola bars, carrots, and herbal ice tea. You have your choice between hummus and avocado sandwiches. It's what I call a healthy lunch." Every man on the boat looked at each of the others with utter horror. She couldn't have received a more unpalatable reaction if she had said she was volunteering their services as diaper changers at a day care center. Out of deference to Julia none of the men said anything negative, since she went to the bother of fixing lunch. The fact that she was a woman and their mothers had raised them all as gentlemen added to the dilemma. Giordino, however, did not come from the old school. He complained vociferously. "Hummus and avocado sandwiches," he said disgustedly. "I'm going to throw myself off the boat and swim to the nearest Burger King...”

“Julia progresses from cradle to grave, showing how government makes every good thing in her life possible. The weak economy, high unemployment, falling wages, rising gas prices, the national debt, the insolvency of entitlements - all these are fictionally assumed away in a cartoon that is produced by a president who wants us to forget about them.”

“Julia recognizes it, that edge-of-adulthood progression: tightly wound and hyperconscious teenage preferences - dictated for centuries, inevitably, by a tasteless few - giving way to the awareness that you’re allowed to like some of the things that you’re not supposed to like, that doing so may distinguish you, and that someone else might also like the forbidden thing, or simply witness you liking it and love you for it. Her daughter is piecing together her own interior rule book; this seems as marvelous a development as her learning to crawl.”

“Julia's unhappy relationship with the Inland Revenue was due to her omission, during four years of modestly successful practice at the Bar, to pay any income tax. The truth is, I think, that she did not, in her heart of hearts, really believe in income tax. It was a subject which she had studied for examinations and on which she had thereafter advised a number of clients: she naturally did not suppose, in these circumstances, that it had anything to do with real life.”

“Julia schloss die Augen unter der berauschenden Empfindung, die sie durchströmte, und merkte, wie sie mit ungeheurer Intensität ein allumfassendes Gefühl überkam, das so neu und überwältigend war, dass sie es nicht einmal hätte benennen können. Es war Erregung und Lust, Ruhe und Erleichterung, Zusammengehörigkeit und Erhöhung, Erlösung und Glück, alles auf einmal. Es war Liebe.”

“Julia specialized in answers. From the time she was old enough to speak, she'd bossed her sisters around, pointing out their problems and providing solutions. Sometimes her sisters found this irritating, but they would also admit that having a "master troubleshooter" in their own home was an asset. One by one, they would seek her out and say sheepishly, Julia, I have a problem. It would be about a mean boy, or a strict teacher, or a lost borrowed necklace. And Julia would thrill at their request, rub her hands together, and figure out what to do.”

“Julia supposed that there was also a difference in perspective: 'The practical level was another level down [in 1960s social movements] and not so interesting. I don't know much about organizing, but I feel as though, if the reality of the situation doesn't change people's heads, then nothing's going to change their heads. Marches and those things are not the work of it. The work of it is whatever the work is.”