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Favorites Quotes

Browse 65 quotes about Favorites.

Favorites Quotes

“You're doing it again and it really annoys me. In fact, I will have to kill you now because I have a lot of untamed energy because of the Sex God. I'm going to have to give you a bit of a duffing up." And I shoved her. She said, "Don't be silly and childish." I said, "I'm not." She got up and started making her hair have more bouncability with the air brush thing again. I waited until she had got it just right (in her opinion); then I hit her over the head with a pillow. She started to say, "Look, this is not funn-" but before she could finish I hit her over the head again with the pillow. And every time she tried to talk I did it again. She got all red-faced, which in Jas's case is very red indeed. It made me feel much better. Violence may be the answer to the world's problems. I may write to the Dalai Lama and suggest he tries my new approach.”

HumorLolFavoritesLouise Rennison
Book:On the Bright Side, I'm Now the Girlfriend of a Sex God
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“Two years before our arrival at Maplehurst, we had left the Midwest eager for new jobs, milder weather, and a house of our own with a real backyard. We were unprepared for the enormity of our losses. Good friends. Close-knit community. A meaningful connection with the work of our minds and our hands. There was one lost thing, in particular. It was such a natural part of our prewilderness lives that I only ever recognized it after it was gone. In our northern city, we had lived a seasonal rhythm of summer festivals and winter sledding, spring baseball games and autumn apple picking. Our moments and our months were distinguished by the color of the trees, deep red or spring green, and the color of the lake, sparkling and playful in summer, menacing and dull in winter. These things were the beautiful, sometimes harsh, but always rhythmic backdrop in our days. Time was like music. It had a melody. In the wilderness, the only thing that differentiated one season from the next was my terrible winter asthma. Without time's music, I became aimless and disconnected, like a child's lost balloon.”

MemoirPlaceFavoritesGeography Of The Soul
Book:Roots and Sky: A Journey Home in Four Seasons
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“The good news was that he wasn't sixteen anymore and he had this, his art. His food. And if this dinner continued to go the way it was going, if Mrs. Raje stood by her word and gave DJ the contract for her son's fund-raising dinner next month based on tonight's success... well, then they'd be fine. Mrs. Raje had been more impressed thus far. Everything from the steamed momos to the dum biryani had turned out just so. The mayor of San Francisco had even asked to speak to DJ after tasting the California blue crab with bitter coconut cream and tucked DJ's card into his wallet. Only dessert remained, and dessert was DJ's crowning glory, his true love. With sugar he could make love to taste buds, make adult humans sob. The reason Mina Raje had given him, a foreigner and a newbie, a shot at tonight was his Arabica bean gelato with dark caramel. DJ had created the dessert for her after spending a week researching her. Not just her favorite restaurants, but where she shopped, how she wore her clothes, what made her laugh, even the perfume she wore and how much. The taste buds drew from who you were. How you reacted to taste as a sense was a culmination of how you processed the world, the most primal form of how you interacted with your environment. It was DJ's greatest strength and weakness, needing to know what exact note of flavor unfurled a person. His need to find that chord and strum it was bone deep.”

ChefFavoritesPreferencesDj CaineIndian Cooking
Book:Pride, Prejudice, and Other Flavors
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“These are some of my favorite smells: toasting bagel, freshly cut figs, the bergamot in good Earl Grey tea, a jar of whole soybeans slowly turning beneath a tropical sun. You'd expect the latter to smell salty, meaty, flaccid- like what you'd smell if you unscrewed the red cap of the bottle on a table in your neighborhood Chinese restaurant and stuck your nose in as far as it would go. But real, fermenting soybeans smell nothing like sauce in a plastic bottle. Tangy and pungent, like rising bread or wet earth, these soybeans smell of history, of life, of tiny, patient movements, unseen by the naked eye.”

FavoritesSmellsSoybeansFermenting
Book:Soy Sauce for Beginners
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“«Hola. Por si he sido tan torpe de no haberte llamado aún, quiero que sepas que no es porque no te eche de menos. Sí te echo de menos. Seguramente, el retraso tendrá que ver con Griffin… El muy idiota dará problemas durante toda la gira, lo sé, pero por lo menos dejará de desnudarte con la mirada una temporada… Eso es cosa mía. Y por si nunca te lo había dicho, lo hago siempre. Cuando pasas a mi lado, imagino tus caderas desnudas bajo mis dedos. Cuando te inclinas para darme una cerveza, imagino tus pechos firmes, tus pezones duros pidiendo mi boca a gritos. Te preguntas por qué estoy siempre tan excitado, y te lo voy a decir. Tu cuerpo me quema. La caricia de tus dedos sobre mi piel enciende mi deseo. Tu aliento me cubre de una pasión abrasadora. Todo en ti es sensual, y tú no lo sabes en absoluto. Cuando me miras con esos ojos ahumados, desnudándome como te desnudo yo a ti, haces que mi sangre fluya como un torrente, y te deseo tanto… Sé que, esté donde esté en este momento, estaré muriéndome de deseo y que albergaré una profunda ansia, casi dolorosa… porque estaré pensando en ti. Los días no merecen la pena hasta que no estoy dentro de ti. Sólo me siento completo con tu cuerpo rodeando el mío. Pero no pienses que lo que siento por ti se limita sólo al sexo y a una reacción física. No… Es mucho más. Te has metido dentro de mí de tal forma que me has dejado herido y vulnerable. Estar contigo, hacerte el amor sólo es la muestra tangible de lo que siento por ti. Sé que me he convertido en uno de esos idiotas enamorados y balbuceantes, pero al fin y al cabo todo se reduce a dos palabras que apenas logran expresar lo que siento… Te amo.»”

BooksFavoritesBookboyfriendSexy And Romantic
Book:Effortless
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“Only an hour in, and already the first temptation: the warmth of my blankets and bed, my pillows and the fake-fur throw Hannah's mom left here after a weekend visit. They're all saying, Climb in. No one will know if you stay in bed all day. No one will know if you wear the same sweatpants for the entire month, if you eat every meal in front of television shows and use t-shirts as napkins. Go ahead and listen to that same song on repeat until its sound turns to nothing and you sleep the winter away. I only have Mabel's visit to get through, and then all this could be mine. I could scroll through Twitter until my vision blurs and then collapse on my bed like an Oscar Wilde character. I could score myself a bottle of whiskey and let it make me glow, let all the room's edges go soft, let the memories out of their cages. Maybe I would hear him sing again, if all else went quiet.”

GriefDepressionFavoritesYup
Book:We Are Okay
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“Yes, I am finally a match for Amy. The other morning I woke up next to her, and I studied the back of her skull. I tried to read her thoughts. For once I didn't feel like I was staring into the sun. I'm rising to my wife's level of madness. Because I can feel her changing me again: I was a callow boy, and then a man, good and bad. Now at last I'm the hero. I am the one to root for in the never-ending war story of our marriage. It's a story I can live with. Hell, at this point, I can't imagine my story without Amy. She is my forever antagonist. We are one long frightening climax.”

MarriageThrillerEvil PeopleFavorites
Book:Gone Girl
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