Quotes About Sophie

Calcifer, Sophie said, I shall have to break your contract. Will it kill you? It would if anyone else broke it, Calcifer said hoarsely. That's why I asked you to do it.

When have you looked? said Sophie. Oh, how your ears flap and your long nose twitches, Howl croaked.

Busy old fool, unruly Sophie

I'm delirious, said Howl. Spots are crawling before my eyes. Those are spiders, said Sophie. Why can't you cure yourself with a spell? Because there is no cure for a cold, Howl said dolefully.

I've got a hangover! No, you hit your head on the floor, Sophie said. Howl rose up on his hands and knees with a scramble. I can't stay, he said. I've got to rescue that fool Sophie. I'm here! Sophie shook his shoulder. But so is Mis Angorian! Get up and do something about her!

For a moment it seemed as if he was going to lose his temper too. His strange, pale eyes all but glared at Sophie. But he controlled himself and said, Now trot along indoors, you overactive old thing, and find something else to play with before I get angry. I hate getting angry.

Every man in Ingary is scared stiff of her. You ought to know how that feels, Sophie dear.

I'm not being nosy!" Sophie protested. "That room—!" "Yes, you are nosy," said Howl. "You're a dreadfully nosy, horribly bossy, appallingly clean old woman. Control yourself. You're victimizing us all.

The customer glared. Then she threw the bonnet at Sophie and stormed out of the shop. Sophie carefully crammed the bonnet into the wastebasket, panting rather. The rule was: Lose your temper, lose a customer. She had just proved that rule. It troubled her to realise how very enjoyable it had been.

Sophie knew Howl could sound unhappy in heaven if it suited him.

Sophie got out the modish black-and-white, which was the only hat even remotely likely to interest this lady. The lady looked at it with contempt. "This one doesn't do anything for anybody. You're wasting my time, Miss Hatter." "Only because you came in and asked for hats," Sophie said.

Calcifer agreed to speed up the castle because of a scarecrow? Dear Sophie, do please tell me how you bully a fire demon into being that obliging. I'd dearly love to know!

Zip! Back to the mansion. Zip! to Market Square. Zip! and there was the castle yet again. She was getting the hang of it. Zip! Here was Upper Folding—but how did you stop? Zip! "Oh, confound it!" Sophie cried, almost in Marsh Folding again.

Sophie did not care to think how Howl might react if Fanny woke him by stabbing him with her parasol. "No, no!" she said. "Howl has been very kind to me." And this was true, Sophie realized. Howl showed his kindness rather strangely, but, considering all Sophie had done to annoy him, he had been very good to her indeed.

Howl's voice was presently heard shouting weakly, "Help me, someone! I'm dying from neglect up here!" Sophie snorted.

Sophie nearly said the smell reminded her of the bathroom after Howl had been in it, but she bit it back.

Sophie looked up at him. As she had feared, the hard black-and-white daylight coming through the broken wall showed her that Howl had not bothered to shave or tidy his hair.

That was Sophie's trouble. She was remorseless, but she lacked method.

Sophie Hodorowicz Knab, Polish Customs, Traditions, and Folklore (New York: Hippocrene Books, 1996), p. 259.   people

Poisinet's verses are like spoiled children - loved only by their father.

You are silver and gold, the moon and the sun. You carry within you the genes of the original twins who fought on Danu Talis ten millennia ago. Sophie, you and your brother are the descendants of gods.

Scathach!' riepen Sophie en Josh verrukt uit. De vrouw glimlachte, waarbij ze een mond vol vampiertanden ontblootte. Ze schoof de bril naar beneden en onthulde felgroene ogen. 'Mis,' zei ze bits. 'Ik ben Aoife van de Schaduwen. En ik wil weten wat er met mijn tweelingzus is gebeurd.

But you did summon the wind?" Sophie persisted. Flamel handed Sophie back her phone. "I just phoned in a request," he said, and smiled.

the ballad written hundreds of years ago in England told of heartbreak experienced then, and now, in Sophie's own heart. It was universal, being cast away; it surpassed time and space. It was said that Henry VIII composed the song for Anne Boleyn. Another discarded wife.