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Little Girl Quotes

Browse 28 quotes about Little Girl.

Little Girl Quotes

“She put her tongue out and felt the raw edges of the torn silk. She looped her tongue around them and drew them into her teeth. Just a little bit, she thought, that's all I need to free my eyelids. She pulled the tasteless web between her teeth and ground, pulling her jaw down in a grimace - it felt as it she was eating the very skin off her face. But the silk over her eyelids shifted.”

CourageEscapeCapturedCreepyHostageBoundCaptiveLittle GirlBlindfoldFreeing Self
Book:The Dead Path
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“There will always be those who say you are too young and delicate to make anything happen for yourself. They don't see the part of you that smolders. Don't let their doubting drown out the sound of your own heartbeat. You are the first drop of rain in a hurricane. Your bravery builds beyond you. You are needed by all the little girls still living in secret, writing oceans made of monsters, and throwing like lightning. You don't need to grow up to find greatness. You are so much stronger than the world has ever believed you could be. The world is waiting for you to set it on fire. Trust in yourself and burn.”

InspirationalBelieveYoungStrongWaitingSecretDestinyGrowing UpYouthRainBraveryBraveYoung AdultBelieve In YourselfGirlsFeelingDelicateYourselfMonsterHurricaneDoubtsNaturaHappenLittle GirlGrown UpsHeatbeatDrop Of RainSet It On FireStrongnessWordld
Book:Mouthful of Forevers
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“In every little boy child is hidden a great man; in every little girl child is hidden as great woman. God hides great things in little things and it takes the Holy Spirit of God get them unveil!”

PeopleMenGodGirlJesusWomenChristLeadershipBabyJesus ChristFood For ThoughtIsraelmore AyivorManWomanHoly SpiritGreatLeadersChildInfantGreat PeopleLittleBoyMyles MunroeKidFuture LeadersLittle GirlGreat WomanInfantsLittle BoyGreat ManUnveil
Book:Leaders' Watchwords
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“Hadassah looked into Vashti's eyes and searched her face as though she was seeing beyond her ability to comprehend. She reached a small hand to touch Vashti's face, then placed a hand on Vashti's protruding middle. "You will have a baby soon," Hadassah said. "You are pretty and have kind eyes." Vashti sat straighter. She took the child's hand. "And you are young to say such things." "She has always been a bright child," Levia said. Vashti nodded. She had no reason to detain the woman or the child, yet a part of her longed to do just that. At last common sense won out, and she cupped Hadassah's face and slowly rose. She looked at Levia. "Take good care of her. She is one who could come to great favor or great harm for her beauty." "Thank you, Majesty. I will be extra watchful for your warning." Vashti dismissed them, wondering what had caused her to say such a thing, yet feeling some strange sense that she had done well. She watched Levia, with Hadassah in hand, walk toward the gate, where Hadassah looked back at her and smiled. Warmth like the break of dawn after the darkness washed over Vashti, and she wondered if she had touched the face of an angel.”

Natural BeautyEstherLittle GirlGods WorkHadassahVashti
Book:Star of Persia:
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“As a young child I had Santa and Jesus all mixed up. I could identify Coke or Pepsi with just one sip, but I could not tell you for sure why they strapped Santa to a cross. Had he missed a house? Had a good little girl somewhere in the world not received the doll he’d promised her, making the father angry?” (p.3)”

FatherHouseJesusSantaCokePepsiDollLittle GirlYoung Child
Book:You Better Not Cry: Stories for Christmas
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“That night, I fell into a deep, travel-weary sleep, lulled by the familiar sound of the waterfall beyond the window. I dreamed of the beck fairies, a blur of lavender and rose-pink and buttercup-yellow light, flitting across the glittering stream, beckoning me to follow them toward the woodland cottage. There, the little girl with flame-red hair picked daisies in the garden, threading them together to make a garland for her hair. She picked a posy of wildflowers- harebell, bindweed, campion, and bladderwort- and gave them to me.”

DreamFairiesWildflowersCottageLittle GirlFairy LightsBeckFrances Griffiths
Book:The Cottingley Secret
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“I moved silently across the garden, silvered with moonlight, my feet barely touching the ground. I brushed past fern and tree, following the lights across the stream, toward the cottage in the clearing where I watched a little girl surrounded by light and laughter as the fairies threaded flowers through her hair. I stood out of sight, peering through the tangled blackberry bushes, but the girl saw me, rushing forward, her hand outstretched, a white flower clasped between her fingers. "For Mammy," she said. "For my Mammy.”

DreamsFairiesCottageLittle GirlFairy LightsFrances Griffiths
Book:The Cottingley Secret
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“What would you like, black or green?" "Green, please. It has an earthier taste." "What is you name?" "Leila. It means 'evening,' but I would rather have a morning name. I was at the other party, but I like your party better." "I see. Cup or mug?" "Cup, please. The best china. Gold-rimmed, no flowers. No cracks or chips. It's okay. I don't break things.”

Green TeaLittle GirlFoundlingTeacupLeila
Book:The Garden Party: A Novel
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“My dress is of plain forest green wool, but the other girls are wearing beautiful tunics the color of gems- ruby dresses with sapphire mantles and dappled with jewels that dance before me like little insects on fire. My hair is dark as a crow, but theirs is red and gold and even longer than mine. A ray of sun slashes through the turbulent Irish sky, and I see that my friends' perfect skin shimmers in the sun, making them almost translucent.”

Childhood MemoryLittle GirlMina Harker
Book:Dracula in Love
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“Remembering the careful way the cooks she'd met chose their ingredients--- the snails at L'Ami Louis, Taeb's saffron, Baldwin's asparagus--- Stella thought Django was more like a magician, conjuring dishes out of thin air. By the time George nudged Stella aside to poke his nose in the door, Lucie was strewing crisp breadcrumbs on top of a thick vegetable potage, and Django was stirring a tart lemon pudding. Downstairs, customers lingered, people who had intended on stopping in for a moment stayed on as increasingly seductive scents wafted through the shop. Unwilling to admit that he was pleased, George tasted the pudding and grumbled, "You've used up all the eggs. And I wanted gingerbread for tonight's reading." "Gingerbread!" Django pulled a face. "Nous sommes en France. I will make something more appropriate." Still standing in the doorway, Stella wondered how he would manage this; he'd used everything in the kitchen except an aged pound cake resembling a rock, a handful of desiccated dried apricots, and the sour milk. "We'll make some coffee." Django was tearing up the stale cake. As she watched, he produced curds from the sour milk, cooked the apricots into jam, and soaked the cake in coffee. With a flourish, he pulled a bar of chocolate from his pocket. "J'ai toujours du chocolat sur moi." He melted the chocolate, stirring in the last of the coffee. "I always have chocolate. You never know when you will need it." Against her better judgement, Stella was charmed. Lucie stood close by, watching him layer the coffee-drenched cake with jam, curds, and chocolate, grabbing each spoon as he finished. "Will you make this for my birthday?" she asked. "No." "Please," she begged. "For your birthday I will make something better.”

FatherChefImprovisingFrench CookingFrench LanguageLittle GirlCreative Tasks
Book:The Paris Novel
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“Ella isn't like other little girls. She's inquisitive and curious, with a heart that senses others' emotions with the precision of Doppler radar. She drops coins from her piggy bank into the outstretched hands of the homeless in Times Square, frets over the plight of hurt animals on the roadside, and two Christmases ago, organized a coat drive at her school when she saw a little boy shivering on the playground.”

Little GirlNot Like Other GirlsBig HeartedElla Santorini
Book:Morning Glory
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“Eat up, sweet one. And if you ask, I am sure Thrasius will make a pear patina tonight." Apicius's voice always held a special warmth when he addressed his daughter. "Please, Thrasius! I love it when you make the pears pretty!" I laughed at her description of the fruit, honey, and egg dish. I always added an extra layer of pears on top, and I had to admit, they did look pretty once they were cooked and shining with oil. "I would be pleased to make that for you, little Domina." Spontaneously, Apicata ran around the table and gave me a big hug.”

DessertLittle GirlAwwwww MomentsPearPatina
Book:Feast of Sorrow
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“I made the little girl all of her favorite dishes, and carved her little animals out of vegetables to adorn her plate. When she saw them, she ran to me and gave me a giant hug and told me how much she missed me. I hugged her for a long time and said nothing when I saw she was trying very hard not to cry. When I went to the market that day, I bought a honey cake from the temple of Ceres, paying extra for a protection blessing from the priestess. I gave it to Apicata with her afternoon meal, and while surely she had seen temple protection cakes and knew what they were, she ate it without a word.”

Caring For OthersLittle GirlAwwwww MomentsThrasiusApicata
Book:Feast of Sorrow
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“And can we get a tarte normande, the kind you used to love as a little girl?" The mere mention has my mouth watering and my heart aching. I can almost taste the tarts my mother used to make, with apples from the trees in our garden, loads of freshly grated cinnamon, and a dollop of whipped cream on top. "And can we look for treasure on the beach?" "Yes, sweet child." "And can we throw rocks in the water and look for starfish in the tide pools?”

VacationWishesDessertNormandyLittle Girl
Book:All the Flowers in Paris
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“As her dreams intensified, the red-haired girl became so real to Olivia that she found herself absentmindedly sketching her image during the day, bringing her to life on the page. She drew her surrounded by the flowers she held in her hands- white harebell, pink campion, and yellow cinquefoil- entwining them into the curls in her hair, until the flowers and plants were not around her, but part of her. A true child of the woodland.”

SketchingWildflowersLittle GirlOlivia Kavanagh
Book:The Cottingley Secret
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