Quotes About Texting

Once all the blocks were on the quad, Rowena grew obsessed with arranging them perfectly. I didn't care at this point and busied myself texting a message to Sydney on the Love Phone, letting her know that my art was a paltry thing compared to the brilliance of her beauty. She texted back: This is me rolling my eyes. To which I replied: I love you too.

Habitual texters may not only cheat their existing relationships, they can also limit their ability to form future ones since they don't get to practice the art of interpreting nonverbal visual cues.

one in 10 text messages involves a lie of some kind. . . .

Thank you, Texting, for ensuring that, if executed well, I'll never have to talk on the phone again in my life. This is like a stay of execution for introverts. I'd also like to take this time to thank Emojis, for helping me express my innermost feelings via cats, crying cats, devil cats, and women dressed up as cats. You really "get" me. However, I would take a lovesick cat over talking words every day of the week. (Fist bump!)

Who would know but ten years ago that kids would be texting each other all the time, that that would be one of their main forms of communication.

Dating is fun. It's light: There's courting; there's the interesting, exciting text messaging and flirting. There's no weight. When you start getting into relationships, you really start having to consider each other in your lives, and I think that's really important.

She looked over my shoulder once while I was texting, which was already annoying, and when I wrote lol she made a very clear point to me about how I was silent and not laughing out loud, not at all. I said it was just an expression, and that I was laughing out loud inside my own mind.

Sometimes the lines in a song are lines you wish you could text-message somebody in real life.

He texts back: I love you. I'm starting to text back, I love you, too, when my phone rings. It's Peter's house number, and I answer it eagerly. "I love you, too," I say. There is surprised silence on the other end, then a little laugh to cover it up. "Hi, Lara Jean. This is Peter's mom.

Around ten he sends a text that says, Sorry something came up. I can't come over tonight. He doesn't say where he is or what he's doing, but I already know. He's with Genevieve.

Margot's off shopping for new boots with her friend Casey, Daddy's at work, and Kitty and I are lazing about watching TV when my phone buzzes next to me. It's a text from Peter. "Movie tonight?" I text back yes, exclamation point. Then I delete the exclamation point for sounding too eager. Though without the exclamation point, the yes seems completely unenthused. I settle on a smiley face and press send before I can obsess over it further.

the time he spent on Saturday morning, crafting a response to Al's latest text message on the subject. He finally chose brevity over further argument: Haven't changed my mind, but no hard feelings or bitterness this end. Hope all goes well & let's get a beer when you're next in town.

A few years later, in Inukjuak, I learned that SFU is the Inuit texting acronym for snowmobile fucked up, and that POOS is the acronym for passed out on snowmobile.

Text messaging," Pauling said. "What's that?" "You can send written words by cell phone." "When did that start?" "Years ago." "OK," Reacher said. "Live and learn.

I hate the shit you do. But I still text you back and say I miss you too.

ME: Thanks ((hugs)) LIAM: You got my full support, babe, but I draw the line at texting hugs. It's a guy thing. I start doing that shit, the other guys'll confiscate my dick. Can't risk it

Marie's drunk texts: Marie: Horse, muss yu Marie: Why dont anser? Marie: Horse like yur name. Horsey. I'd like to rid u horsey, LOL. You sleeping? Or busy with someone? Marie: I know yur there. I bet you got a new gurl alredy. Screw you. Marie: Screw you and your slut. I hate you. Take yur club and shove it up yur ass I wudn't be yoor old lady for ten milion dollrs.

Millennials regularly draw ire for their cell phone usage. They're mobile natives, having come of age when landlines were well on their way out and payphones had gone the way of dinosaurs. Because of their native fluency, Millennials recognize mobile phones can do a whole lot more than make calls, enable texting between friends or tweeting.

Rap and spoken word have reawakened the country to poetry in itself. Texting and Twitter encourage creative uses of casual language, in ways I have celebrated widely. But we've fallen behind on savoring the formal layer of our language.

Someone had my number and they started text-stalking me. I've never replied to them. It was tempting to write back, but I resisted.

Should I text him? What is the optimum amount of time to leave before texting him back? As if love were an algorithm. Will he hate me if we don't shag on the first date? Thirty years ago, the question was, Will he think I'm a slut if I have sex with him too soon? Honestly, I'm struggling to see this as progress. The pursuit of love is exhausting and most ridiculous.

Tyrannosaurus drives. Tyrannosaurus texts. Tyrannosaurus rex.

Intexticated: distracted by the act of texting to such a degree that one seems intoxicated.

Sometimes I text the wrong person ... on purpose. Just to start a conversation.