Quotes About Surprise

Amsterdam was a great surprise to me. I had always thought of Venice as the city of canals; it had never entered my mind that I should find similar conditions in a Dutch town.

It's a form of mental and verbal gymnastics, and one of the things that appeals to me most about commenting on darts is that no one knows exactly what I'm going to come out with next - and neither do I.

I remember, the first time I played a parent was - I did a guest spot on 'Veronica Mars,' and they were like, 'OK, and this is your daughter,' and there's this little girl standing there. And I remember thinking, 'OK, this is weird... I guess I'm old enough to have a daughter.'

When I wanted to become an artist I wanted to be versatile but at the same time, fans never know what to expect.

I like to do new things, so I always take on roles that I feel will keep me on my toes. I never want to pigeon myself, so I always like to surprise myself. I believe in versatility and so I would play anything as long as it was a challenge.

I wouldn't say I'm a very controlling person. For instance, when I talk to the actors, I don't tell them exactly what I want because I want them to surprise me. I even encourage them to change some of the verses of the script if they need to.

I flipped Gucci Mane's 'Freaky Gurl' for my project and I thought, 'Wouldn't it be great if he could get on it.' When I got the text that Gucci recorded a verse for the song, I started screaming!

Dixie Chicks surprised me with a beautiful three-part harmony version of 'I'll Take Care of You.' And Don Henley's performance of 'The Heart of the Matter' still just slays me every time I hear it.

I just didn't expect an acoustic version of Rock'n'Roll All Nite.

I was nowhere, I was floating. I was not surprised, I knew it was the World, the naked World suddenly revealing itself, and I choked with rage at this gross, absurd being.

Something I didn't know any more: a sort of joy. The

Crazy as a loon—and Doctor Roge vaguely recalls other crazy loons, not remembering any one of them in particular. Now, nothing M. Achille can do will surprise us: because he's a crazy loon!

time. The old woman reaches the corner of the street, no more than a bundle of black clothes. All right then, it's new, she wasn't there a little while ago. But it's a tarnished deflowered newness, which can never surprise. She is going to turn the corner, she turns—during an eternity. I tear myself from the window

It was such an unexpected and genuine smile that if I only had a soul I'm sure I would have felt quite guilty.

It took me a moment. I blinked, and suddenly it swam into focus and I had to frown very hard to keep myself from giggling out loud like the schoolgirl Deb had accused me of being. Because he had arranged the arms and legs in letters, and the letters spelled out a single small word: BOO. The three torsos were carefully arranged below the BOO in a quarter-circle, making a cute little Halloween smile. What a scamp.

What's in here? That hurt." He reached into the bag, frowning. "It better not be body parts." He pulled out the huge cinnamon roll and eyed it. "Ay, caramba. My village will not starve this year. We are very grateful, grasshopper." He bowed, holding up the pastry. "A debt repaid is a blessing on us all, my child.

It made me feel almost giddy, like a high-school girl watching the captain of the football team worked up his nerve to ask for a date. You mean me? Little old me? Oh my stars, really? Pardon me while I flutter my eyelashes.

I came, I saw, I blew chunks.

Vince had answered the door in a body-hugging satin gown with a basket of fruit on his head. "J. Edgar Hoover?" I asked him.

My car is right over here," Kraunauer said, steering me toward a modest-looking gray sedan with a stylized letter "B" on each hubcap. And in spite of that, it wasn't until I opened the door and saw the walnut-lined instrument panel and soft glove-leather seats that I realized the "B" stood for "Bentley." I slid onto the sweet-smelling seat and tried not to soil it by sweating or thinking impure thoughts.

Wardrobe had a suite on the twenty-fourth floor, and we stepped into an elevator filled with three businessmen, complete with gray suits and briefcases, which seemed like overkill on a Saturday morning. Maybe there was a board meeting at their church. The door slid shut, and one of them glanced importantly in our direction. He looked away haughtily, and then did a double take. "Holy shit, Jackie Forrest?!" he blurted out, and the other two gave a start and then gaped at us, too.

And I hear something in the next room, and I sneak to the doorway and peek— The counter. There's a hand lying there. A human hand. But it's not attached to anything. This doesn't make sense. And right next to it that's a foot, also not attached. And other parts, too, and oh holy shit that's the head right there on top, eyes wide-open and looking right at me and all I can do is stare back— And

I looked at her with a little bit of surprise. I had forgotten that she was eighteen, and rumored to be bright. Perhaps whatever drugs they had given her were wearing off, and maybe she was just glad to have somebody to talk to for the first time in quite a while. Whatever the case, she was finally showing a little bit of depth, which at least removed one small layer of torture from durance vile.

Me?" I said, a little surprised. "What do you mean?" Jackie gestured with the cup. "You obviously work out. I mean," she said with a wicked smile, "I can see you have a pretty good appetite, but you look pretty fit." She actually winked at me. "Just like a real bodyguard should." "Oh, well," I said, still a bit uncomfortable. "I like to run. And, um, some tai chi …?