Quotes About Surprise

I was standing in the doorway when he said hi," Amy said. "And from the look on his face, what he has for you is not the key to the city.

You're not by any chance my stepmother are you? Min said to her mother's reflection. Because that would explain so much.

she was just…beaming at me, and I thought she'd won the lottery or something, her smile was that big. I asked what happened, and she said…" Park swallowed again. "She said, 'You're here."' He blinked at Tess. "'You're here.' That's all it was. That big goofy smile just because I was there. Nobody ever smiled like that at me before.

I'll never forget my first time with you. The earth moved, and then mom asked dad who he was going down on during lunch.

He hung up and smiled at Cal. "That was Min. She wants chicken marsala. You can deliver it to her." "What?" Cal said, dumbfounded. "You know the way. It's probably on your way home." "It's not on my way home, it's not on anybody's way home except God's, the damn place is vertical. What gave you the idea I'd do this?

The thing about love is, you don't get to choose," Suze said. "You just wake up one day and there it is, sitting at the foot of the bed, going 'nyah, nyah, gotcha,' and there's not a damn thing you can do about it.

One hot August Thursday afternoon, Maddie Farady reached under the front seat of her husband's Cadillac and pulled out a pair of black lace underpants. They weren't hers.

It had looked so simple when she'd made it, but when he cut into it and tasted it, he realized he'd missed some stuff while he'd been making coffee. There were herbs in there or spices or something, and the egg was light- Fluffy , he thought- and the pepper still had crunch to it but was buttery, too.

Instead she came face-to-face, well to be technically accurate, face-to-wall-of-hard-muscular-chest with the big, badass bounty hunter himself who'd been starring front and center in her secret fantasies. Cade Stone.

As is true in many houses with small children, questions are asked all the time in ours, but these are seldom about big-picture matters. Why is there yogurt on the TV? Why are my car keys in the trash? Where's the front doorknob? Who let a squirrel in the house?

Baby, groaned the guy-Ted? Tad?-something like that-and crushed his lips against the side of her neck, shoving her face against the wall of the toilet stall.

long as people can still surprise you, it means you're not dead.

It happened this way sometimes. We'd be having a perfectly normal conversation… or, at least, a conversation as close to normal as we could have—and then he'd say something that would remind me that nothing was normal, nothing at all.

As long as people can still surprise you, it means you're not dead.

That reminds me. I dug into my book bag and pulled out a white cardboard box tied with a string. I brought these back for you. He looked at the box, then at me, before slowly reaching out. What are they? Poisonous snakes. Open it. Zachary untied the string. They seem like very quiet snakes. They're stealthy. Or maybe dead.

Her moods were totally unpredictable, and Ben was never sure how he would find her upon his return at the end of the day. At times he felt that he should enter their home by putting his hat on a stick and poking it into the doorway to see if it would be embraced, ignored, or shot at.

One example of a solid but inexplicable fact, ruling all human affairs - your fireworks won't go off while the crowd is around.

who wants to be foretold the weather?  It is bad enough when it comes, without our having the misery of knowing about it beforehand. 

It all comes of being so attractive, as the old lady said when she was struck by lightning.

But who wants to be foretold the weather?  It is bad enough when it comes, without our having the misery of knowing about it beforehand.

I love those small airplane bathrooms. It's like your own little apartment on the plane. You go in, close the door, the light comes right on. It's a little surprise part every time you go in.

To a person who expects every desert to be barren sand dunes, the Sonoran must come as a surprise. Not only are there no dunes, there's no sand. At least not the sort of sand you find at the beach. The ground does have a sandy color to it, or gray, but your feet won't sink in. It's hard, as if it's been tamped. And pebbly. And glinting with -- what else -- mica.

There should be no promise of a plot. Plot is extraordinary, while chance is ordinary.

I leaped off the couch, cracking the drying wounds on both knees. I swallowed a cry. Was someone lurking in my room?