Quotes About Conversation

They're brainless girls, otherwise they wouldn't be seen dead here. They're pretty, with ugly, appealing smiles and conversations we can't hear. They breathe smoke and blow it out, and words drop from their mouths and get crushed to the floor. Or they get discarded, just to glow with warmth for a moment, for someone else to tread on later.

White light lowered itself into a boxing ring and a crowd stood and murmured--that magical sound of many people talking all at once. How could every person there have so much to say at the same time?

Un asiento, dos hombres, una breve discusión y yo. A veces me mata ver cómo muere la gente.

Under the ground, in Munich, Germany, two people stood and spoke in a basement. It sounds like the beginning of a joke: 'There's a Jew and a German standing in a basement, right?...' This, however, was no joke.

For a few moments, Liesel said nothing. It was one of those conversations that require some time to elapse between exchanges.

The words are spat through the phone line. They're loud and wet in my ear. "Y' big dickhead." She's lovely, isn't she?

There are just people going about what they always do. Talking. Parking crooked.

A 2 A.M. CONVERSATION**** Is this yours? Yes, Papa. Do you want to read it? Again, Yes,Papa. A tired smile. Metallic eyes, melting. Well, we'd better read it, then.

She seemed to collect the words in her hand, pat them together, and hurl them across the table.

How strange it is, sometimes, which conversations or events stays with us while so much else melts as fast as April snow.

Jury paused. "This is a onetime offer. It won't come again. Choose." Melrose prepared to laugh like hell, but managed only a bark. "Onetime offer? You mean if I don't take you up on either of these jobs here and now, you'l I never ask me again?" "That is correct." "Is this the most ridiculous conversation we've ever had?" "No, we've had more ridiculous.

Steptoe continued: "Yes, I had a very tasty dish of flageolet

Here we come close to one of the definitions of literary fiction. Even the best kind of popular novel just comes straight at you; you have no conversation with a popular novel. Whereas you do have a conversation (you have an intense argument) with [literary fiction].

They did not speak until the reception at the Marriott. The walls were edged with tables of blini, fish pie, and piroshki.

GIRLEEN: Coleman. Father Welsh Walsh Welsh... WELSH: Welsh. GIRLEEN: Welsh. I know. Don't be picking me up. How is all? COLEMAN: We've just stuck our dad in the ground. GIRLEEN: Grand, grand. I met the postman on the road with a letter for Valene.

i have the brain the size of a planet and you want to talk to me about life

they can come down to your flat for a visit, and, worst of all, all they can talk

Ah, this feels just like the old times... I still miss you and the others, you know, and life at school and those times when two or more of us would sit up talking far too late into the night. Which is not to say I would give up my present life to return there, but... Well, even happy choices involve some sacrifice. And most of us, I suppose, would like to both have our cake and eat it if only it were possible

I imagined at the time that he had some strong reason for not alluding to it, but he soon dispelled the idea by coming round to the subject of his own accord.

Talk away, Mr. Holmes. I'm just loving it. It's fine!

scene. "Ask what you like, Mr. Holmes," said he eagerly. "It is a bad thing to speak of, but I will answer you the truth." "Tell me about last night." "Well, Mr. Holmes, I supped there, as the vicar has said, and my elder brother George proposed a game of whist afterwards. We sat down about nine o'clock. It was a quarter-past ten when I moved to go. I left them all round the table, as merry as could be." "Who let you out?

you are the second man to-day that has used that expression to me.

Gone to the nearest public-house. That is the centre of country gossip. They would have told you every name, from the master to the scullery-maid.

Holmes rose from his chair. I am a rather busy man, Mr. Gibson, said he, and I have no time or taste for aimless conversations. I wish you good-morning.