Quotes About Countess

I was all, Oh, dog, Countess gonna crack open a forty of whup-ass on you now. Oh, you in the sh*t now, wigga! (I am not incline to use hip-hop vernacular often, but there are times when, like French, it just better expresses the sentiment of the moment.) -Abby

The count says we're Austrians now. But the countess tells me on the sly: 'You're Polish and always will be.' I asked her if she was Polish too, and she said: 'Forever.' " Tytus led his son to a window, and as if to lend emphasis to what he was about to say, pointed toward the river: "As long as the Vistula flows, it waters the soul of Poland.

In 1990, when I had just arrived in New York City as a wet-behind-the-ears 20-something girl from Arizona, I spent a year or more working as the personal secretary and secret ghostwriter to an American-born countess in her apartment on the Upper East Side.

This careful script, of which he had composed both speaking parts, floated away into the milky sky. For the Countess had been unexpectedly transformed into a malevolent harpy. He fiddled with the fingertips of his black gloves. Sophie grabbed his sleeve, utterly beside herself. The flood of love and trust poured out in the offending letter was clearly undergoing a rapid and dramatic revolution. Now she was screaming, both at Max and the absent Sibyl.

Countess Bezukhova was present among other Russian ladies who had followed the sovereign from Petersburg to Vilna, and eclipsed the refined Polish ladies by her massive, so-called Russian, type of beauty. The Emperor noticed her, and honoured her with a dance.

Both the countess and Sonya understood that, naturally, neither Moscow, nor the burning of Moscow, nor anything else, could seem of importance to Natasha.

Countess Bezukhova quite deserved her reputation of being a fascinating woman. She could say what she did not think—especially what was flattering—quite simply and naturally.

Returned home for dinner and dined alone—the countess had many visitors I do not like. I ate and drank moderately and after dinner copied out some passages for the Brothers. In the evening I went down to the countess and told a funny story

A goodly number of high nobility was present: the Duchess Kickass, the Countess Pisshappy, also the Princess Smellshit with her two daughters, who are married to the two Princes of Mustbelly von Pigtail.

The handsomest wondered at her easy surrender. The men could not understand such luck as the Baron's, not regarding him as particularly fascinating. A few indulgent women said it was not fair to judge the Countess too hastily; young wives would be in a very hapless plight if an expressive look or a few graceful dancing steps were enough to compromise a woman.

And I went on to deliver such a diatribe while comparing botany and the world, that we ended miles away from the dividing wall, and the Countess must have supposed me to be a wretched and wounded sufferer worthy of her pity. However, at the end of half an hour my neighbor naturally brought me back to the point; for women, when they are not in love, have all the cold blood of an experienced attorney.

There's no such thing as a tax on happiness," Helen said, rubbing her forehead. The countess regarded her with rueful sympathy. "My poor girl... it certainly can't be had for free.

How did you persuade the countess to confess so quickly?" she asked. "I would have thought she would have held out for days. I would have thought she would rather die than admit anything—" "I'm afraid that was the choice I gave her." Her eyes widened. "Oh," she whispered. -Lillian & Marcus

Another woman working for British intelligence was perhaps the most spectacular Polish spy of all during the war. Known as Christine Granville, she was actually Countess Krystyna Gizycka (née Skarbek), the young and beautiful scion of a Polish aristocratic family.

You suggested this to her, didn't you." "Why do you say that?" "Because I don't know if you've ever met the Countess Nohamapetan, but she's about as sentimental as a fucking alligator.

I will communicate that issue to the countess." "Do that. Also communicate to her the part where I said 'fuck you.' Make sure you phrase it precisely that way.

I hope I did not offend Miss Nightingale by complaining about the rat," said the countess. "I like her very much. Miss Nightingale, I mean, not the rat.

After finding no record of the marriage, French reporters doubted the story, but American papers picked it up with headlines proclaiming that a young black woman from St. Louis had become a countess. The June 22, 1927, issue of the Milwaukee Journal headlined: JOSEPHINE BAKER, BLACK DANCER, WEDS A REAL COUNT. They quoted

Defender. Despite what he may have thought, he did not challenge Joséphine's apparent bigamy. Later some diligent reporters, having determined that there was no marriage record and that the count title was fake, learned that the whole episode was a publicity stunt. Joséphine dropped the countess title. By the time the sham was