Quotes About School

Like all schools, we are always interested in learning, in research, in pushing the limits of knowledge. But we must balance that with our duty to protect the world, even from ourselves.

We know about your brother. He called and told us himself. Said to imagine Faerieland like an exclusive boarding school in Switzerland. I told him it was more like an exclusive boarding school in hell.

I can't believe I was worried magic school was going to be so dangerous," Call said, squinting at the sand pile. "You could die of boredom," said Aaron. Call snickered. Tamara looked up at them miserably. "The thought of that is the only thing that's going to keep me going.

No matter how much he disliked me when we were in school, that was a guttering candle to the steady flame of his hatred now. HIs mouth curls in to a smile. His eyes shine with wicked intent. 'Look at them all, your subjects. A shame not a one knows who their true ruler is.

Jude gives him a look. It is an expression that he never once saw her make when they attended the palace school together, yet from the first he saw it, he knew it to be her truest face. Conspiratorial. Daring. Bold.

She thought of his eyes, red like spilled garnets, red as poppies, red as the bright embers of a fire. She thought of what they taught in school: cold hands, dead heart. Plenty of vampires had forgotten how to feel anything but hunger. He'd helped her, sure, but that didn't mean she could trust him not to turn on her now that they were out of danger. Vampires were unpredictable.

Oh yeah,Call said under his breath. I'm the crazy one. Nothing to worry about at the ole Magisterium. Evil pony school, here we come. Pg. 58

Aaron looks like a con man who got hit with a shrink ray and you look like you're going to Catholic school.

I felt sad because everyday I had to wake up early to practice before going to school. After school I had to go back to tennis again, and then after tennis I had homework. I didn't have time to play.

No, no. She's a career woman. She has a full-time nanny. I think she just imported a new one from France. She likes European stuff. Renata doesn't have time to help at the school. She has board meetings to attend. Whenever you talk to her she's just been to a board meeting, or she's on her way back from a board meeting, or she's preparing for a board meeting. I mean, how often do these boards have to meet?

Mothers took their mothering so seriously now. Their frantic little faces. Their busy little bottoms strutting into the school in their tight gym gear. Ponytails swinging. Eyes fixed on the mobile phones held in the palms of their hands like compasses.

Your daughters will leave this school as confident, resilient young women." Ms. Byrne was off, delivering the private school party line. Resilience. What crap. No kid was going to go to school in a place that looked like freaking Buckingham Palace and come out of it resilient. She should be honest: "Your daughter will leave this school with a grand sense of entitlement that will serve her well in life; she'll find it especially useful on Sydney roads.

Mothers took their mothering so seriously now. Their frantic little faces. Their busy little bottoms strutting into the school in their tight gym gear. Ponytails swinging. Eyes fixed on the mobile phones held in the palms of their hands like compasses. It made Mrs. Ponder laugh.

The doctors would fix her head and everything would be OK. She began shoving things back into the backpack. As she picked up the leather-bound diary, a photo fell out. It was a photo of three children in school uniform. It was obviously a posed shot because they were sitting in a row on a step with their elbows on their knees and their chins in their hands. There were two girls and a boy. The boy was in the middle. He had

I was just average, I'm afraid. Too dreamy. After school,

She could not meet another brand-new group of mothers. She'd found socializing with the school mums difficult enough when her life was in perfect order. The chat, chat, chat, the swirls of laughter, the warmth, the friendliness (most mums were so very nice) and the gentle hint of bitchiness than ran beneath it all. She'd

The children had their weekly school assembly in the same room. Each Friday morning, Mrs. Ponder set herself up in the sewing room with a cup of English Breakfast and a ginger-nut biscuit. The sound of the children singing floating down from the second floor of the building always made her weep. She'd never believed in God, except when she heard children singing.

source of profound irritation. "Ed, mate! And little, hmmm . . . It's your first day at school too, isn't it?" Nathan could never be bothered to remember Madeline's children's names. He held up his palm for a high five with Fred. "Gidday, champ." Fred betrayed her by high-fiving him back. Nathan kissed

I won't get involved in any school politics," she'd said, and someone up there had overheard and hadn't liked her attitude. Far too confident. "We'll see about that," they'd said, and then sat back and had a good old laugh at her expense.

That doesn't sound like a school trivia night," said Mrs. Patty Ponder to Marie Antoinette. "That sounds like a riot." The cat didn't respond. She was dozing on the couch and found school trivia nights to be trivial.

So at school events you've got a plumber, a banker and a crystal healer standing around trying to make conversation.

No kid was going to go to school in a place that looked like freaking Buckingham Palace and come out of it resilient.

Samantha: That Harper is so up herself. Of course it could have happened at a private school. And Abigail's intentions were so noble! It's just that fourteen-year-old girls are stupid. Poor Madeline. She blamed Nathan and Bonnie, although I don't know if that was fair.

The last time she had had anything close to an enemy, she was in primary school herself. It had never crossed her mind that sending your child to school would be like going back to school yourself.