Quotes About Misunderstanding

She'd inherited Eli's old phone and often got texts meant for him. One night, that senior girl who always talked about ballet and wore leotards and jeans to school texted twenty-four times. One of the texts had said—Deenie never forgot it—MY PUSSY ACHES FOR U. It had to have been the worst thing she'd ever read. She'd read it over and over before deleting it.

I did not know how to say that, nor how to tell Goldie that I had not lived the life she obviously thought I had.

I thought that probably meant something - that we could only really look at each other through a looking glass. Literally. I didn't know where that thought came from, but I could feel that it was true. It had something to do with the two of us, seemingly so different, standing there side by side. There was no wall between us. But we both wanted to think there was.

They're like sharks. Circling. Cute, single guy, good job, nice car. It's all they know about me." His tone was light but his expression serious. Maybe that's because it's all you show them." Maybe it's all they want to see.

I just said it was romantic. Some people like that." Nick sat, too. "Like you?" She lifted her chin. "Maybe I do." Nick's laugh for once didn't urge her to join him. "Well then, you're fucking the wrong guy.

Elliott took a long, deep breath. "Look. We seem to have had a misunderstanding.…" "Really?" Eyes snapping fire, Simone faced him. "Really. A misunderstanding. What part of 'I don't want to see you again, and I don't want you to come to my office' did I misunderstand? Because it seemed pretty fucking crystal to me." He winced. "No. That part was right.

Crazy is a state of mind usually interpreted by other people.

Silence is the cruelest means of rejection, even if it only masks confusion or regret. The

My mother, of course, had a different opinion. 'They're driving me crazy!' she said, swatting at them with her beige Coach handbag. 'How can you tell?' my dad asked. 'Between your menopause craziness and your turning fifty craziness and everything else?' 'Forty-eight!' my mom cried. Dad groaned. 'Have you forgotten who you're lying to?

Unfortunately for you, Scotty,' I said, removing his hand, 'they don't serve a drink called the Idiotfucker.

I heard that he had all these pictures of you . . .' 'Well, I heard you flunked out of school.

Zen: 'I kinda went about it all wrong last night, didn't I? Melody: 'Kinda? It was a total fustercluck.' < actual word used >

This confirms it: I am living with Beavis and sluthead.

Suspicion is the greatest enemy of love whether it is true or not.

Talking wisely to the ignorant is throwing precious seeds to the desert sands!

So between you and me," I tell Justine on the phone that night, "we're either bitchy or stupid." "Oh God," she moans. "Everyone thinks I'm an idiot." "Thanks!

women are elephants and watch the way you say that in front of them because they'll think you're calling them fat and there's no coming back from that moment. But they hoard. They say they don't, but they do. We think that if something's not spoken about again, it goes away. It doesn't. Nothing goes away just like that...

You're judging her by her literacy,' Tara says. 'You're a literacist.' 'You've made that up.' Thomas Mackee packs up his stuff and stands up. 'You chicks give me the shits,' he says. 'You, on the other hand, brighten up our day,' I tell him. 'We all regard you as a god.

I look at him. "It's odious," he says. "Detention?" I ask, confused. "Huh?" We have no idea what the other is talking about. "What's odious?" I ask. "O.D.S," he says, pointing to his discman and obviously referring to some dropkick band. Like I really care.

I wrote to you for a year and you never wrote back. I rang you over and over again and you would never come to the phone. What part of that gives the impression that I didn't care? ~Jonah Griggs

I wrote to you months ago and you sent him here on an errand about water fountains." "He said you loved water fountains.

I want so much not to do the teenage angst thing, but I have to tell you that I hate the life that, according to my mother, I'm not actually having.

If the munchkin, whose face I used to wash, tries to explain to us what a sixty-niner is, I'm going to report myself to child protection.

Sometimes people who care about us say all the wrong things for all the right reasons.