Quotes About Phoebe

For a while he sat idly outside his door brooding in the spring sun. In The Lost Phoebe.

They sat in silence. Feathers, Phoebe thought, searching in vain for some moment of her own that could rival the beauty and mystery of Faith's act. She felt a disappointment so familiar it was almost a comfort.

They must have looked like traveling companions, Phoebe thought, possibly even a couple. She noticed her voice leaning into laughter, how she tossed her head, each tiny gesture like the sweet ache of a muscle craving exercise.

I can't deny 'Fleabag''s a very personal piece, but it's not autobiographical.

That's why you're not allowed to touch the Christmas trees," said Phoebe, nodding and carefully moving all the bits of carrot away from the chicken. She had to eat them, but she would put it off to the last possible moment.

I did a CBS thing when I was a teenager that was a 'Music Minute' or something.

It is impossible to watch a 'Friends' episode too many times. Phoebe is my favourite character. I used to play her songs on the guitar when I was a teenager. 'Smelly Cat' is very easy. It's only about three chords.

Phoebe Broome] 'Well,' she said at last. 'You've now met my father. At his worst.' [Lord Vladimir] 'Being myself widely considered my family's most difficult member, I would not presume to comment.' 'That is... gentlemanly of you.

With '2 Dope Queens,' with stand-up, and also with 'Sooo Many White Guys,' the interview stuff that I do, I really am a fan first.

At home that night, I was working on my mythology report when Phoebe called. She was whispering. When she went downstairs to say good night to her father, he was sitting in his favorite chair staring at the television, but the television wasn't on. If she didn't know her father better, she would have though he had been crying. 'But my father never cries,' she said.

At home that night, I was working on my mythology report when Phoebe called. She was whispering. When she went downstairs to say goodnight to her father, he was sitting in his favorite chair staring at the television, but the television wasn't on. If she did not know her father any better, she would have thought he had been crying. 'But my father never cries,' she said. But my father never cries.

At the back of the cave, Phoebe placed her hand against one of the stones where a spring release opened an elevator door. Chris gave an over exaggerated gape.) Holy Hand Grenade, Batman, it's a bat cave. (Chris)

Yeah, well, your people happen to be soul-sucking demons. (Wulf) You ever met a banker or a lawyer? Tell me who's worse, my Urian or one of them? At least we need the food; they do it just for profit margins. (Phoebe)

I'm concerned about the woman you're holding prisoner in there," Beckett said. "Knock three times if you're being held against your will." Phoebe gasped and answered, "I'm fine, too." "Good." Beckett said with a chuckle. "I was afraid I'd have to call the cops on my cop brother.

On that night after Phoebe had given her Pandora report, I thought about the Hope in Pandora's box. Maybe when everything seemed sad and miserable, Phoebe and I could both hope that something might start to go right.

A heartbeat later, the flashlight clicked off. Phoebe blinked in the darkness. "Zane?" "We're gonna have to do this by feel. Otherwise we'll be putting on a show." She thought about how flashlights in the tents created detailed shadows and blushed at the thought of entertaining the others.

How upset are you?" Phoebe smiled ruefully. "There's a half-pound box of butterscotch squares from See's in my car. I'm also planning to stop by the grocery store on my way home and buy a bottle of wine." "Liquor and sugar. That's pretty bad." "It's as close as I'll come to a life of crime.

Phoebe waited for Chase to lead the way. When he hit the water, he started swearing. His combinations were so colorful that she started to laugh…right up until the icy river reached her feet and instantly soaked her boots. It was even colder than the last time.

Yet there was something about Phoebe Kitzke. An innocence, maybe. No, that wasn't right. It was how she seemed trusting. More fool her. Or maybe him.

'Extraordinary' is an original fairy tale, a contemporary story. But like a traditional fairy tale, it heads quickly into frightening, bloody territory. I am afraid for my book, as it goes out alone into the world, just as I was frightened for Phoebe as I wrote and rewrote her story.

The most common misconception about me is that I'm basically a jazz singer.

You wanted to think something lasted when you loved someone. Some part of that connection remained, that the person stayed inside you in a way. But maybe that wasn't always true. And maybe with someone like Phoebe, you didn't want them lingering on the outskirts of your heart, reminding you how unsafe the world was. Maybe it was better to forget some people completely. If you could. If that was even possible.

Phoebe regarded Kevin with eyes as chilly as a Lions uniform in the middle of a losing Detroit November.

This was a freedom essential to the health even of a character so little susceptible of morbid influences as that of Phoebe. The old house [with dry rot in its structure and perhaps also in its inhabitants];...it was not good to breathe no other atmosphere that that.