You’ve lived in America for twenty years. Eat badly, damn it.
You’re planning on being disappointed, you’d be disappointed if you weren’t disappointed, your whole world view depends on men disappointing you. Well, that’s just cowardly.
If you’re going to have an asthma attack in the surf, I strongly recommend you do so in Nantucket.
Paris is Rory without Lorelai’s influence to draw her out of her books and into the wider world.
Books provide a handy shorthand when Rory’s mostly MIA father, Christopher, is first introduced to viewers. Christopher’s offer to buy Rory the Compact Oxford English Dictionary she covets is sincere; his lack of ability to follow through on his good intentions is Christopher in a nutshell.
I brought you Diet Coke to compensate,” he said, opening the cooler. “Also, this conversation is boring.” “Right. Sorry.” She took the can he handed her and popped it open. “Really sorry. There’s nothing more boring than talking about food.” “No,” Cal said. “Talking about food is great. Talking about not having food is boring.
Four fabulous days and three glorious nights.” More than that, Victoria thought. Fabulous days and glorious nights for the rest of my life.
The reason you can’t lose weight is that you’re not supposed to lose weight, you’re not built that way, and if you did manage through some stupid diet to take the weight off, you’d be like that chicken mess you just made. Some things are supposed to be made with butter. You’re one of them.
So I’ve been sexy all these years? Why hasn’t anybody noticed?” “Because you dress like you hate your body,” Cal said. “Sexy is in your head and you don’t feel sexy so you don’t look it.
But those misgivings come less from the resulting loss of familial memories than because it gave Lorelai the working-class skills to escape inherited class obligations and to make her own way in the world. That’s one reason why Lorelai is powerful and fearless in ways Mrs. Kim and Mrs. Gilmore are not. She’s self-confident enough to accept those things she can’t control and to rely upon the kindness of strangers.
One of the biggest problems this country has is that people think a law is only a law if they agree with it. And if they don’t, it’s all right to kick guys like Joe out of the service and bomb abortion clinics because there’s a higher law at work. And that’s garbage, Allie. The law is the law. If you don’t like it, change it. But don’t break it and then start whining when there are consequences.
I don’t want to be alone anymore, but I don’t want to go out and cold-bloodedly look for a man, either.” – Kate Svenson.
The attendant opened the door, and the faint barking Nina had heard before became frantic and shrill. Nina stepped into the concrete cell block and stopped, blown out of her self-absorption by the row of gray metal cages where dogs barked to get her attention. She let her breath out, horrified. “Oh, God, this is awful.” “Spay your pets.” The attendant stopped in front of the next to last cage. “Here you go.” She jerked her head again. “Perky.” Nina.
There was something about having a plan for dinner, a recipe in hand, that made her feel much less hostile about food.
Sometimes stories are just previews of coming truths.
He looked like every glossy frat boy in every nerd movie ever made, like every popular town boy who’d ever looked right through her in high school, like every rotten rich kid who’d ever belonged where she hadn’t. My mama warned me about guys like you. He.
Cynthie was enchanting up close. And from far away. From everywhere, really, which was how he’d ended up saying yes to her all the time. Cal glanced at her impeccably tight little body in her impeccably tight little red dress and then took a step back as he jerked his eyes away, reminding himself of how peaceful life was without her. Distance, that was the key. Maybe a cross and some garlic, too.
The muffin halves popped up from the toaster on the counter behind him, and she stood up to get them, the scent of her mixing with the hot yeasty smell of the muffins, and the buttery, peppery smell of the eggs, and the fat, spicy smell of the sausage, and Shane lost track of where he was in conversation.
Excuse me,” North said. “I’d like to continue this conversation but I find myself in need of a therapist.
Now,” Lynne said, turning back to the table with her lizard smile. “I apologize for interrupting you, Minerva. What were you saying?” She looked at Min as if to say, You have a chance to back down; take it. Min smiled back at her. Bite me, lady.
Hostility,” Cal said. “It’s deja vu all over again. How’s your head?” “The pain comes and goes,” Min said. “And then there are the voices.