Quotes About Boys

The scariness of manhood to males may be symbolically seen in the many stories of indigenous Australian boys who ran away and hid in the bush as the time of initiation approached.

I started this gang called the Proud Boys.

I've had so many crushes on gay boys.

I just love the geeky comedy boys! Those are the guys I go for.

There's so much pressure on kids to perform and to be the best they can be, and particularly with boys: boys who are the gifted ones get loaded with an awful lot of expectation and self-expectation, and that's really hard for an 18 year old.

A single woman with a very narrow income must be a ridiculous, disagreeable old maid - the proper sport of boys and girls; but a single woman of good fortune is always respectable, and may be as sensible and pleasant as anybody else.

I'm not used to girls, or familiar with their customs. I feel awkward around them, I don't know what to say. I know the unspoken rules of boys, but with girls I sense that I am always on the verge of some unforeseen, calamitous blunder.

Boys by nature require these silences; they must not be startled by too many words, spoken too quickly. What they actually say is not that important. The important parts exist in the silences between the words. I know what we're both looking for, which is escape. They want to escape from adults and other boys, I want to escape from adults and other girls. We're looking for desert islands, momentary, unreal, but there.

You don't teach boys to be charming. It makes people think they are devious.

There were swings in one of the parks, but because of our skirts, which might be blow up by the wind and then looked into, we were not to think of taking such a liberty as a swing. Only boys could taste that freedom; only they could swoop and soar; only they could be airborne.

School was great. There were no boys there, which didn't really bother me at the time because I had two brothers, so I was quite pleased not to spend any more time with boys.

I'm terrified that I'm genetically predisposed to only having boys. That's frightening. By the time I was 10 years old, and I'm not exaggerating, I knew how to patch drywall.

After that it would be a matter of other sources for general information, the nearest public house which the male servants might occasionally frequent, errand and delivery boys, street peddlers and crossing sweepers who might have an observant eye and, for a few pence, a ready tongue.

Master, the paintings, the paintings in the storage rooms! I cried. Forget the paintings. It's too late. Boys, run from here, get out now, save yourselves from the fire. Knocking the attackers back, he shot up the stairwell and called down to me from the uppermost railing. Come, Amadeo, fight them off, believe in your strength, child, fight.

Happy Halloween, vampire boys and girls.

What was I to do with this pain? How should I be rid of it? How long would it torment me right here in the city of Venice where I had chosen to seek comfort from mortals and give back to the world in secret payment my blessed and well-educated boys?

I put my mind at work on the tone of the voices near me, such sweet and pitiable voices. I picked out the boys by name and slowly made a count of them. Over half our little company, our splendid cherubic company, was in this abominable prison.

Far away in another realm where pianos ought to be played and little boys should dance, they stood, the two like painted cutout figures against the swimming light of the room, merely gazing at me, he the little desert rogue with his fancy black cigarette, puffing away and smacking his lips and raising his eyebrows, and she merely floating it seemed, resolute and thoughtful as before, unshocked, untouched perhaps.

It was the "Stranger in Paradise" melody, and the back-of-the-room boys always crooned, "Take my hand, I'm a strange-looking parasite..." till Mr. Budd tapped his baton against his music stand.

G.I. Joe appears to be a doll for boys. But dolls for boys never sold well. The free prize is how well the joints on a G.I. Joe articulate. By turning a doll into a legitimate action figure, Hasbro figured out how to breathe life into plastic.

How long till our powers are back? (Kat) A few hours according to last time. (Sin) Sweet, and we have how long till the bitches awake? (Kat) Less than two. (Sin) Can you say screwed, boys and girls? Yes, I thought you could. (Kat)

This is where Wulf's people would get drunk and party for a week. All hail the Vikings, forerunners to the frat boys! (Chris)

How was I to know your pet was a god-killer? What kind of idiot ties herself down to one of his kind? (Dionysus) Well, gee, what was I supposed to do? Hook up with Mr. All-powerful God-killer or get myself a Mardi Gras float and hang out with him? (She pointed to Camulus, who looked extremely offended by her comment.) You're such a moron. No wonder you're the patron god of drunken frat boys. (Artemis)

Damn it. What have we unleashed? (Sin) Doom, destruction...at least he's not nuclear, right? (Kat) At this point, who knows? (Sin) Oh look, Mr. Positive has come out to play again. Welcome back, Mr. Positive. All the boys and girls have missed you so. (Kat)