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Nicknames Quotes

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Nicknames Quotes

“Sooo, I'm tired of people thinking I'm a freak. I know you can't relate to that but -" "Get over it already, will ya?" Candace stood. "You're not Smellody anymore. You're pretty. You can get hot guys now. Tanned ones with good vision. Not geeky hose jousters." She shut the window. "Don't you ever want to use your lips as something other than veneer protectors?" Melody felt a familiar pinch behind her eyes. Her throat dried. Her eyes burned. And then they came. Like salty little paratroopers, tears descended en masse. She hated Candace thought she had never made out with a boy. But how could she convince a seventeen-year-old with more dates than a fruitcake that Randy the Starbucks cashier (aka Scarbucks, because of his acne scars) was a great kisser? She couldn't.”

“I found a photo of Mom standing between Mick and Dad, who were both wearing basketball uniforms. Mom was perfectly groomed, of course, and looking very ladylike. I said I must have been adopted. Ma-ma-oo laughed and said that when Mom was a little girl, she was always doing things like tying two cookie sheets to her shoes and attempting to ski because she'd seen one of her movie star idols in a magazine, elegantly poised on the slopes of Switzerland. Mom flew down the hill, hit a bump and crashed into a bush. She broke her leg and earned the nickname "Crash.”

“My mother, who hated what she called his Americanisms, ended up calling him Il cauboi—the cowboy. It started as a putdown and soon enough became an endearment, to go along with her other nickname for him, conferred during his first week, when he came down to the dinner table after showering, his glistening hair combed back. La star, she had said, short for la muvi star.”

“In order to avoid the tragic case of murdering one’s own husband, Xiao YuAn pressed his hands against Yan HeQing’s shoulders, and shook him a few times: “Yan-ge! Hello! Daxiongdi! Baobei, dear! Darling! Husband! Hubby! Please wake up, I don’t want to be fucked to death, alright?”

“A letter from the great-grandson.” He shakes his head sadly. “Sweet boy, but I don’t know how he’s going to make it through school with that name. Eustace .” “Maybe he’ll go by a nickname,” I offer, but Ernie isn’t going for it. “What sort of nickname? Eu? Stace?” He folds the letter and gingerly sets it on the coffee table in front of him. “Ah, well. His mother says she labored with him for two and a half days, so he deserves it.”

“Will had been taken aback in his confrontation with Arisaka to discover that his name- Chocho- meant "Butterfly"... He was puzzled to know why they had selected it. His friends, of course, delighted in helping him guess the reason. 'I assume it's because you're such a snazzy dresser,' Evanlyn said. 'You Rangers are a riot of color, after all.'... 'I think it might be more to do with the way he raced around the training ground, darting here and there to correct the way a man might be holding his shield, then dashing off to show someone how to put their body weight into their javelin cast,' said Horace, a little more sympathetically. Then he ruined the effect by adding thoughtlessly, 'I must say, your cloak did flutter around like a butterfly's wings.”

“Alexis grabbed his arm. "Tom Jones? Wow, I totally love Tom Jones. He's like quintessential Vegas—over the top and indecent fun. Let me just go grab a pair of underwear to throw at him and we'll be all set." Over his undead body. If anyone was getting her underwear tossed in his face, it was going to be him. "I don't think so, Ball Buster. You're not giving your panties to an old man." "Oh, and you're so young, Garlic?" "Garlic?" What the hell was that? "Yep. Now we have pet names for each other, isn't that adorable? You're Garlic and I'm Ball Buster. Now everyone will believe we're a real couple.”

“Listen, Benny. If we're going to work together, there's gonna be no more of this... charm offensive you're apparently trying to wage. It's not going to work. We are coworkers, and that is it. Not allies, friends, or anything else. You'd better get it through that irritatingly symmetrical skull of yours ASAP." He raises an eyebrow suggestively, his crooked grin kicking up. "Oh? What's the 'anything else' you speak of, Reese's Pieces? I only offered allyship---any other ideas are all yours." A disbelieving laugh escapes me before I can stop it. "You're gonna run out of Reese's candy varieties very soon, Benzoyl Peroxide.”

“Please, I could take you in a race in a heartbeat." She laughs out loud. "Wanna bet?" "Sure. Let's go." She follows my eyeline to the edge of the pool like she might actually race me, but then I reach forward and tug her cap off her head in one swift motion, her blonde hair spilling into the pool in wet tangles around her face and shoulders. "Foul!" Pepper crows, yanking it back from me. "You know, for someone named Pepper, you're pretty salty about losing." She groans at my pun as she shoves her hair back into the cap, but then counters, "For someone named Jack, you're pretty bad at knowing when to hit the road." "Wow, Burger Princess, sick burn." And damn if she hasn't gone and done it again--- distracted me right at a peak moment for me to most fully make an ass of myself. The soccer ball is sailing over our heads, and Pepper's already plowing through the water with the focus of a shark, halfway to where it's about to smack into no man's land. Not on my watch. I reach out and grab her ankle and yank her back the way she's done to me too many times to count, but unlike me, she seems to be expecting it--- expecting it so readily, she snaps her body through the water like a rubber band, using me as an anchor for momentum, and before I know it, she's got a palm squarely on top of my head and is dunking my entire body underwater.”

“I love a good s’more” Tanner said. "Plus, it’s a fun word to say." "Is that why you call me that?" "Um, because it’s your name. S. Moore. Do you not like it? I can stop.” "No, don't" I said too quickly, and his lips curved up."I mean, it's not the worst nickname you've given me" "It's a great nickname. S'mores mean summer and the outdoors and being with friends and campfires. They're crunchy on the outside but sweet and gooey on the inside, and they're delicious. They remind you of childhood and they make you smile. And they're addictive. Once you try one, you want more. Its right there in the name." He had twisted to look at me. Flames gilded his profile and burnished his dark hair. Air caught in my throat. Were we still talking about dessert?”

“This is nice. Two friends being friendly,” he said. Rolling my eyes, I sipped my drink and ignored his cocky smile. “How long has it been?” he asked, tapping my sandal with his boot. “The abstaining thing.” Crossing my arms under my tits, I tightened them and pushed up the girls for him to admire. I always loved teasing boys. “I bet you’ve banged a girl recently. Like I could probably smell her on you, if I got close enough,” I grumbled, remembering how he smelled like chocolate and I had a sweet tooth. “You’re likely crawling with germs.” Instead of finding offense, Vaughn watched me in a weird way. His lids lowered as the corners of his mouth lifted. A sly look on his face, Vaughn ran his tongue along his top teeth. “I have a system,” he said softly. “After I hook up with a random chick, I shower with a big bottle of Purell. One of those economy-sized ones.” Even smiling, I kicked his foot away from mine. “I’m a bath person myself. Just fill up the tub with really hot water then toss in a cap of bleach plus a few bubbles and I’m set.” “Gotta have bubbles,” he said in a deep low voice. “What are you doing?” Vaughn shook his head, yet his gaze held mine. “Just admiring your beautiful smile.” Rolling my eyes again, I sighed. “Lame.” “I know. I really do. I use that line a lot, but it’s true with you. That smile changes your face. Makes you less sex kitten and more angel.” “I’m no angel.” “What a relief. I don’t like good girls.” “I didn’t say I was bad.” Vaughn sucked at his lower lip and sized me up with those eyes. “You didn’t have to, kitten.” “Don’t call me that.” “Sugar?” he said, grinning brighter now. “Your sister didn’t like my nickname for her either.” “Why would you give my sister a nickname?” “Don’t be jealous. I like giving girls nicknames. Even girls I don’t want to spend time inside.” “I can’t believe those lines ever work.” “They don’t. Girls are drawn to my looks, not my personality.” Snorting, I begged myself to stop smiling. “And you’re proud of this fact?” “I’m proud of very little, pumpkin.” “Keep trying.”

“As departments, we aren't very respectful of one another. The geologists are the Rock People and Delores and Ginger are the Plant People. Here in Ornithology, we're the Bird People, the ichthyologists are the Fish People, the entomologists are the Bug People, those in Paleo are the Bone People, and Anthro is just Antho, because otherwise we'd have to call them the People People.”

“It only increased Margaret's dislike of her name when young Elizabeth, whom the family called Lilibet, insisted on referring to her baby sister as "Bud". "She's not a real rose yet, is she? She's only a bud." Elizabeth, who was four years Margaret's senior, pertly told Lady Cynthia Asquith.”

“I called it Kinko’s because of my nickname — because I had this really kinky hair. If you think about it, the first thing a baby learns is ‘Googoo, gaga,’ and if you think of good businesses like Kodak, Xerox, Google, people remember consonants — which was why Kinko’s was a good name. But really I had this big head of curly hair and before being called ‘Kinko’ I was ‘Pube Head.’ So I thought Kinko’s was better than Pubo’s.”

“Average Jones had come by his nickname inevitably. His parents had foredoomed him to it when they furnished him with the initials A. V. R. E. as preface to his birthright of J for Jones. His character apparently justified the chance concomitance. He was, so to speak, a composite photograph of any thousand well-conditioned, clean-living Americans between the ages of twenty-five and thirty.”

“Get a single, solitary thought in your mind, and that thought - the precious love of Jesus. Go and live it out, and come what may, you will be respected though abused. They may say you are an enthusiast, a fanatic, a fool, but those names from the world are titles of praise and glory. The world does not take the trouble to nickname a man unless he is worth it. It will not give you any censure unless it trembles at you.”

“What matters is performances, regardless of what the name is, whether it's The Rock - which is my nickname and people call me that all the time - it's no big deal. So, whether it's The Rock or Dwayne Johnson, in terms of being recognised I just think that the goal is to be recognised as a good actor. I don't put much thought or weight into the name, or the name change, or what it is, or what does it mean? It's just a nickname.”