Blue Jeans Quotes

#1. The last time I wore an animal hide; but this time I settled for this. Eric had been wearing a long trench coat. Now he threw it off dramatically, and I could only stand and stare. Normally, Eric was a blue-jeans-and-T-shirt kind of guy. Tonight, he wore a pink tank top and Lycra leggings[ ... ]They were pink and aqua, like the swirls down the side of Jason's truck. #Quote by Charlaine Harris

#2. Growing up in Oakland, we did things like white t-shirt, blue jeans and Nikes. That was my get down, how I was going to rock. And if you look at me right now, I'm pretty much black tee, blue jeans and some sneakers. #Quote by Marshawn Lynch

#3. I feel like blue jeans are kind of too 'country' for me. #Quote by Jack Barakat

#4. I'm a little drunk on you, and high on summertime. #Quote by Luke Bryan

#5. A friend sat next to a nun on a plane. He asked her what she missed most. "Wearing blue jeans," she replied. #Quote by Amy Krouse Rosenthal

#6. It was a little harder when I first went to Egypt when I was 18 years old and being a white woman with a knapsack and in blue jeans. But again I was part of the rucksack revolution there was some grace there. You could put it that way. And confidence as well because I thought of myself as a poet. That was part of it. I was going for that, to have experiences to make the work. #Quote by Anne Waldman

#7. I came to Savannah to see where it all began ... where I began. But right now, I swear to God I flew to the other side of the pond just to see Theo in a dirty white T-shirt and faded blue jeans with holes in the knees, a red bandana wrapped around his head, and the most vulnerable look in his blue eyes. #Quote by Jewel E. Ann

#8. So would you like to try on some clothes?" Beth nodded at what was in her arms. "I don't have many dresses but Fritz can get you some."
You know what?" Marissa eyed the blue jeans the queen had on. "I've never worn a pair of pants before."
I've got two pairs here if you want to try them out."
Well, wasn't this a night for firsts. Sex. Arson. Pants. #Quote by J.R. Ward

#9. I just start with a pencil and paper. I don't want something too trendy, too fashion-forward. I don't want to make something I consider a regular person couldn't wear with blue jeans. But I don't want to make something that other people make, either - like a skinny black suit in a shiny material that you can buy anywhere. #Quote by John Malkovich

#10. I used to do that routine about my daughter being a hippy with the dirty sneakers and dirty blue jeans, but why a beard? And you know people would actually come to me and say, 'Does your daughter really have a beard?' I'd say, 'No, I made her shave it, but I let her keep the mustache. #Quote by Jean Carroll

#11. I'm against suppression of pornography. If you suppress guns - yes; if you want to suppress poverty - yes. These are the obscenities, the real brutalization of people. I am almost more outraged by ads for blue jeans or cars that sort of blatantly depict women not only as sex objects, but women that look younger than the age of consent, looking like they've just been raped or asking to be raped-utterly passive sex objects. #Quote by Betty Friedan

#12. Opened the door. He was leaning with his arm up on the frame, and his other hand on his hip. The way he was standing caught me off-guard. I'd noticed the red T-shirt and the blue jeans he wore, but with his arm up like that, the muscles in his arm and shoulders were much more noticeable. My heart tripped in my chest at how handsome he was. His blue eyes swept over me. His face brightened. Yeah. I like those. #Quote by C.L.Stone

#13. I've not been an admirer of contemporary music since punk rock went off the boil in 1977, but once a year I'll listen to 'Spiral Scratch' by the Buzzcocks, or 'Hippy Hippy Shake' by the Swinging Blue Jeans. Otherwise, I can put up with Chopin or shakuhachi flute in the background. #Quote by Billy Childish

#14. Josey?" She heard her mother's voice in the hall, then the thud of her cane as she came closer. "Please don't tell her I'm here," the woman in the closet said, with a strange sort of desperation. Despite the cold outside, she was wearing a cropped white shirt and tight dark blue jeans that sat low, revealing a tattoo of a broken heart on her hip. Her hair was bleached white-blond with about an inch of silver-sprinkled dark roots showing. Her mascara had run and there were black streaks on her cheeks. She looked drip-dried, like she'd been walking in the rain, though there hadn't ... #Quote by Sarah Addison Allen

#15. Larry had brought me blue jeans, a red polo shirt, jogging socks, my white Nikes, an extra cross from my suitcase, the silver knives, the Firestar complete with inner pants holster, and the Browning and its shoulder holster. He'd forgotten a bra, but hey, except for that it was perfect. #Quote by Laurell K. Hamilton

#16. We're just recycled history machines, cavemen in faded blue jeans. #Quote by Jimmy Buffett

#17. I was never really a Mod. I thought I was more of a beatnik with the brown corduroy jacket, blue jeans, etc. I loved the music Mods liked, and I loved the clothes, but I didn't have any money to spend on them. #Quote by Ian McLagan

#18. And not in the crazy fuck's normal bizarre-drobe of zebra stripes and feather boas. The angel had a flannel shirt tied around his waist. Blue jeans that were one trip through the wash away from losing their structural integrity. And a Nirvana shirt from the Saint Andrew's Hall performance in Detroit on October 11, 1991. That #Quote by J.R. Ward

#19. So what made you think he was a ghost?" Maggie interrupted.

"The next time I saw him it was five years later, and he hadn't aged at all. Then a few years passed, and I saw him again. He looked exactly the same, same blue jeans and white shirt, same everything right down to the 50s hair do with the duck butt in the back. Pardon the language, Miss Honeycutt." Gus gave a sheepish grin. "I just didn't know what else to call it.

"I'm well aware of what a duck's butt is Gus," Aunt Irene said primly.

"A duck's butt?" Shad hooted. Rising from his seat he squatted down and waddled around the table, shaking his skinny butt wildly. "That's what this move is called, Maggie, a duck's butt."

"Shadrach, sit down." Gus smiled to soften the reprimand.

Maggie tried not to laugh and ended up snorting instead. Aunt Irene looked at her sharply, and Maggie quickly changed the subject. #Quote by Amy Harmon

#20. when i left them, i painted myself burgundy and grey
i stopped saying the words "please" and "i'm sorry"
i walked into grocery stores and bought too many
clementines, ordered too much Chinese, spent my
last four dollars on over the counter sleeping pills
that made my stomach bleed but my soul forget
every time i wanted to tell you "i'm sorry", i wrote
you a poem instead, i said things like "i hope your
mother calls you beautiful" to strangers and when
boys with dry hands and broken eyes asked me on
dates i didn't hesitate no, didn't even stop them
when their hands grazed my breasts and when
they moaned my name against my thighs i cried
i opened the mail and didn't tell anyone for a week
that i got accepted into law school, i stopped watering
the plants and filled the bathtub with roses and milk,
when i got invited to parties, i wore blue jeans with
white shirts, sat alone in some kitchen drinking hard
liquor until some boys mouth made me feel like home
i stopped answering the phone for a month, i didn't
like how my name tasted in his mouth but he was
older and didn't say things like "it doesn't matter"
and i think i went insane, my heart boiled blisters, i
couldn't understand why my bones felt like cages,
i walked around art museums until closing, watched
them lock up the gates and then open them up
again the very same morning, i thought #Quote by Irynka

#21. I could live with one butt cheek - just sit at a slant for the rest of my life, not worry about how baggy the seat of my blue jeans looked, get used to the nickname Halfass - but I couldn't live with my brains blown out. #Quote by Dean Koontz

#22. Near him were two men in hip-hop uniform, spotless footwear and
new baggy jeans and tilted Yankees caps. Shopping for blue jeans at
Macy's, Dismas had discovered that hip-hop labels were as expensive
as, if not more expensive than some of the high-end names he coveted.
Functional clothing designed to absorb sweat and repel mud cost as
much as designer eveningwear. Phat Farm, Armani, same difference. #Quote by Jeet Thayil

#23. Blue jeans, white shirt
Walked into the room you know you made my eyes burn
It was like, James Dean, for sure
You're so fresh to death and sick as ca-cancer
You were sorta punk rock, I grew up on hip hop
But you fit me better than my favourite sweater, and I know
That love is mean, and love hurts
But I still remember that day we met in december, oh baby!

I will love you 'til the end of time
I would wait a million years
Promise you'll remember that you're mine
Baby can you see through the tears
Love you more
Than those bitches before
Say you'll remember, oh baby, say you'll remember
I will love you 'til the end of time

Big dreams, gangster
Said you had to leave to start your life over
I was like, "No please, stay here,
We don't need no money we can make it all work,"
But he headed out on sunday, said he'd come home monday
I stayed up waitin', anticipatin', and pacin'
But he was chasing paper
"Caught up in the game" ‒ that was the last I heard

I will love you 'til the end of time
I would wait a million years
Promise you'll remember that you're mine
Baby can you see through the tears
Love you more
Than those bitches before
Say you'll remember, oh baby, say you'll remember
I will love you 'til the end of time

You went out every night
And baby that's alright
I told you that no matter what y #Quote by Lana Del Rey

#24. hate being alone, but when I wake up in some guy's bed with dry come on the sheets underneath me and he's snoring like a garbage truck, I go, let me out of here. I slip out and crawl around the floor groping for my clothes, trying to untangle his blue jeans from mine, my bra from his Jockeys - Skip wears boxers, of course - and trying to be quiet at the same time, then slide out the door laughing like a seal escaping from the zoo and race home to where Jeannie has been warming the bed all night. Jumping in between the sheets and she wakes up and #Quote by Jay McInerney

#25. Do not, she urged her inner vixen, look at the way those blue jeans fit his lean legs. Do not notice how he's filled out in all the right places. #Quote by Scarlett Scott

#26. I decided the moment I graduated from college that I would never wear blue jeans again. And I have never worn blue jeans again. #Quote by Whit Stillman

#27. He was in blue jeans and a work shirt, which is another weird quirk of Rich Old Men. Just one of the guys here. Blue jeans and a work shirt, salt of the earth, working man like yourself. Like they're somehow uncomfortable about being rich enough to sleep in a bed made of vaginas being pulled around the town at night by a fleet of gold-covered midgets. #Quote by Warren Ellis

#28. He couldn't believe how badly he wanted to spank that sexy little ass in her faded blue jeans. Squeeze it and spank it and rub it. And bang it.

He wanted to bang Beverly Anderson.

Jesus H. Christ. #Quote by Penny Watson

#29. Blanche, prosaic in a pale yellow sweater and blue jeans, was wondering again if anything mattered - -life, faith
specifically, finishing homework assignments. #Quote by Regina Doman

#30. There was someone sitting in his room, over on that chair -
"Are you kidding me?" He exhaled a curse and rubbed the back of his brain. "Really? Are you fucking kidding me?"
Across the way, like some fucked-up scarecrow, a pair of blue jeans, that Nirvana concert T-shirt of the angel's, the flannel bullshit, and a set of Nikes had been stuffed with God only knew what. The head of the "Lassiter" was made out of a nylon bag that had had potatoes in it, and the black and yellow hair was a collection of knee-high business socks - probably Butch's - and Swiffer cleaning rags that had been safety pinned in place.
Around its neck? A handwritten sign that read: the boss was here. #Quote by J.R. Ward

#31. In his worn blue jeans and a black T-shirt, the early-morning sun hits Isaiah just right, highlighting him like he's a relaxed tiger bathing in the warmth. The light glints off his double rows of hoop earrings and there's a twinkle in his eyes that makes me feel like he has a secret, but not the type kept from me. No, it's the type that suggests I'm in on it, and that it involves a lack of my clothes.
And maybe some of his.
As if I spoke the thought instead of keeping it internal, Isaiah lifts his shirt to scratch at a spot right above his hip bone. Good Lord, he's pretty. I soak in the sight of the muscles in his abdomen like I'm a plant in the Sahara Desert, except it doesn't quench my thirst. It only causes my mouth to run dry.
Isaiah smiles like he knows what I'm thinking, and heat licks up my body and pools in my cheeks. What really causes my blood to curve into itself is the wicked gleam in his eye. It's a spark that says he's done very naughty things I've never even heard about. #Quote by Katie McGarry

#32. God, it was quite possible that Derek was the strongest man she'd ever known. Her gaze ran over the T-shirt that did nothing to hide the muscles of his shoulders and arms, then downward to how those blue jeans hung on his lean hips. He was definitely the sexiest man she'd ever known.
And she wanted him. #Quote by Laura Kaye

#33. Planet Earth is blue.
Blue blue electric blue, that's the color of my room. Put on your red shoes and dance the blues. I never did anything out of the blue. Now my Blue Jean's blue. See these eyes so green, I could stare for a thousand years. See these eyes so red. Oh you've got green eyes, oh you've got blue eyes, oh you've got gray eyes. I'll give you television, I'll give you eyes of blue. I looked in her eyes, they were blue, but nobody home. The blue light was my baby, and the red light was my mind. See these tears so blue. You wouldn't believe what I've been through. It's been so long. And I think it's gonna be a long, long time. It's all over now, Baby Blue.
And there's nothing I can do. #Quote by Rob Sheffield

#34. Maybe you've been there. You go into a police or sheriff's station after a gang of black kids forced you to stop your car while they smashed out your windows with garbage cans; a strung-out addict made you kneel at gunpoint on the floor of a grocery store, and before you knew it the begging words rose uncontrollably in your throat; some bikers pulled you from the back of a bar and sat on your arms while one of them unzippered his blue jeans. Your body is still hot with shame, your voice full of thumbtacks and strange to your own ears, your eyes full of guilt and self-loathing while uniformed people walk casually by you with Styrofoam cups of coffee in their hands. Then somebody types your words on a report and you realize that this is all you will get. #Quote by James Lee Burke

#35. Some people are like blue jeans- the older and more beat up they get, the better they look. #Quote by Jonathan Carroll

#36. He came into her life wearing a Syracuse ball cap and blue jeans that had holes in them. #Quote by J.R. Ward

#37. Blue jeans are the most beautiful things since the gondola. #Quote by Diana Vreeland

#38. There are better ways we can transform this virulent hatred - by living our ideals, the Peace Corps, exchange students, teachers, exporting our music, poetry, blue jeans. #Quote by Helen Thomas

#39. If you don't teach that dog to sit, she's going to die!" said the tall bearded man in blue jeans standing next to me. He pointed at the ground, bent down to get in Belvy's face, and bellowed at her, "SIT!!" To my astonishment, Belvy sat. She didn't just sit, she pounded her butt into the pavement, and looked up at the man wagging her tail.
The man was in my face now. "See? It's not mean, it's clear." The light changed, and the man strode across the street, leaving me with words to live by. #Quote by Kim Malone Scott

#40. Cambodian dust whipped up in the wind and stuck to my clothes like clay. I put a hand between my face and the sun and blinked Phnom Penn dust from my tired eyes. One idea, drink, beamed light in all directions across my dark consciousness.
A slim lady walked toward me with a big smile and a bigger head. Her left hand rested on her waggling hips and her right hand rose above her head, limp-wristed, like she'd just thrown a winning ball toward a basket and was leaving her hand in the shot position. The lady walking toward me was a man. At least that much was clear, but the nature or our relationship was still a fog to me. She wore blue jeans and a white top accentuating her breasts, but her Adam's apple and cow sized hands revealed more in daylight than she could hide at night. #Quote by Craig Stone

#41. I have always felt comfortable in blue jeans. I have found it interesting, however, that people also whistle at blue jeans. I have to admit that I like mine to fit. There's nothing I hate worse than baggy blue jeans. #Quote by Marilyn Monroe

#42. All things are spiritual. It doesn't matter what you do or who you are or what kind of blue jeans you wear, or whether you wear an ochre robe or whether you're sober or asleep or dreaming. It's all the same. #Quote by Frederick Lenz

#43. Hey, little dolly with the blue jeans on, I want to ramrod with you, honey, 'til half past dawn. #Quote by Bruce Springsteen

#44. I wear mostly black Main Line or T ... But the other day, the sun was shining so I wore blue jeans. It caused so much excitement in the office! People were literally coming up from the floor below and peering behind my desk saying; we hear you're wearing blue jeans and we have to have a look #Quote by Alexander Wang

#45. She's the gal in the red blue jeans. #Quote by Gene Vincent

#46. The band broke into a cover of "Hungry Like the Wolf." I smiled up at mine. He was sexy even in soaking wet blue jeans. "Dance with me. #Quote by Lisa Kessler

#47. Fashion brings out what you are inside. A lot of people think it's got to be blue jeans, a Black coat, three inch heels. But it doesn't have to be like that. I enjoy just going for it #Quote by Nicola Roberts

#48. Despite the cold outside, she was wearing a cropped white shirt and tight dark blue jeans that sat low, revealing a tattoo of a broken heart on her hip. Her hair was bleached white-blond with about an inch of silver-sprinkled dark roots showing. Her mascara had run and there were black streaks on her cheeks. She looked drip-dried, like she'd been walking in the rain, though there hadn't been rain for days. She smelled like cigarette smoke and river water. #Quote by Sarah Addison Allen

#49. The key lies in finding the delicious flavorings in one's life, no matter how fancy your blue jeans may or may not be. #Quote by Nick Offerman

#50. I do enjoy wearing Japanese and Italian clothing. I also enjoy my blue jeans or tennis shorts and running shoes. I like driving a Porsche because it is an elegant machine and it is a very beautiful experience to drive it. It's magnificently made. #Quote by Frederick Lenz

#51. He unbuckled his belt
and pulled off his blue jeans and boxers. I guess I had forgotten his
actual size and I blushed at the sight of him. This was gonna hurt. #Quote by J.M. Colail

#52. My mother once made a quilt from dozens of pairs of second- and third- and fourth- hand blue jeans that she bought us at Goodwill, the Salvation Army, Value Village, and garage sales. My late sister studied my mother's denim quilt and said, 'That's a lot of pants. There's been a lot of ass in those pants. This is a blanket of asses. #Quote by Sherman Alexie

#53. When I go out or to an event, I'll wear blue jeans and a shirt. And sometimes when I go to an event I'll wear camouflage. It depends what kind of mood I'm in. #Quote by Si Robertson

#54. Fashion is mysterious, as a rule. Why are blue jeans a classic? You just hit on something that happens to be timeless and right. #Quote by Diane Von Furstenberg

#55. I remember my mother's
Sister's husband's brother
Working in the goldmine full-time
Filling in for sunshine
Filing into tight lines
Of ordinary beehives
The door screams I hate you
Hate you hanging around my blue jeans
Why is there no breeze
No currency of leaves
No current through the water wire
No feelings I can see
I trust no emotion
I believe in locomotion
But I've turned to rust as we've discussed
Though I must have let you down
too many times
In the dirt and the dust #Quote by Wilco

#56. You got your designer blue jeans, your designer shoes, your designer luggage. Now Miss Fancy Pants got her some designer pussy. #Quote by Susan Elizabeth Phillips

#57. I have always been drawn to designing fashions that are rebellious, like black leather jackets on suburban kinds, a corset dress, punk, blue jeans. I love that. Fashion changes all the time, and what is considered extreme or elegant or luxurious (or not luxurious) is changing all the time. #Quote by Jean Paul Gaultier

#58. At home, a T-shirt and something loose like harem pants would do. If I'm stepping out, a pair of blue jeans and a white tee are just fine. #Quote by Genelia D'Souza

#59. Thomas Pynchon looks exactly like Thomas Pynchon should look. He is tall, he wears lumberjack shirts and blue jeans. He has Albert Einstein white hair and Bugs Bunny front teeth. #Quote by Salman Rushdie

#60. Shouldn't death , I thought, be a swandive, graceful, white-winged and smooth, leaving the surface undisturbed?
Blue jeans tumbled in the dryer. #Quote by Don DeLillo

#61. All of the Indians must have tragic features: tragic noses, eyes, and arms.
Their hands and fingers must be tragic when they reach for tragic food.

The hero must be a half-breed, half white and half Indian, preferably
from a horse culture. He should often weep alone. That is mandatory.

If the hero is an Indian woman, she is beautiful. She must be slender
and in love with a white man. But if she loves an Indian man

then he must be a half-breed, preferably from a horse culture.
If the Indian woman loves a white man, then he has to be so white

that we can see the blue veins running through his skin like rivers.
When the Indian woman steps out of her dress, the white man gasps

at the endless beauty of her brown skin. She should be compared to nature:
brown hills, mountains, fertile valleys, dewy grass, wind, and clear water.

If she is compared to murky water, however, then she must have a secret.
Indians always have secrets, which are carefully and slowly revealed.

Yet Indian secrets can be disclosed suddenly, like a storm.
Indian men, of course, are storms. The should destroy the lives

of any white women who choose to love them. All white women love
Indian men. That is always the case. White women feign disgust

at the savage in blue jeans and T-shirt, but secretly lust after him.
White women dream about half-breed Indian men from #Quote by Sherman Alexie

#62. There are things in American culture that want to wipe the class distinction. Blue jeans. Ready-made clothes. Coca-Cola. #Quote by Leslie Fiedler

#63. Blue Jeans? They should be worn by farm girls milking cows! #Quote by Yves Saint-Laurent

#64. Money talks, but it don't sing and dance, and it don't walk. And long as I can have you here with me, I'd much rather be, forever in blue jeans. #Quote by Neil Diamond

#65. I'll never throw away my blue jeans. #Quote by Susan Ford

#66. Blue jeans and Hollywood and rock & roll won the cold war. #Quote by Ben Dreyfuss

#67. She seemed to enjoy the control and picked out some stretch blue jeans that hugged his ass tighter than a pair of kissing Proulahs. On his world, once mated, the blue crustaceans shared a shell for the rest of their life in an eternal kiss. #Quote by Missy Lyons

#68. It is best if the guard is in love with America and wants to overawe the American by being a premium guard. This kind of guard thinks that he will encounter the American again one day in America, and that the American will offer to take him to a Chicago Bulls game, and buy him blue jeans and white
bread and delicate toilet paper. This guard dreams of speaking English
without an accent and obtaining a wife with an unmalleable bosom. This guard will confess that he does not love where he lives.
The other kind of guard is also in love with America, but he will hate the American for being an American. This is worst. This guard knows he will never go to America, and knows that he will never meet the American again. He will steal from the American, and terror the American, only to teach that he can. #Quote by Jonathan Safran Foer

#69. The one garment in the world with the greatest and longest popularity - over a century now - is Levi's denim blue jeans. Along with their practical durability, they show age honestly and elegantly, as successive washings fade and shrink them to perfect fit and rich texture. Ingenious techniques to simulate aging of denim come and go, but the basic indigo 501s, copper-riveted, carry on for decades. This is highly evolved design. Are there blue-jeans buildings among us? #Quote by Stewart Brand

#70. The whole world loves American movies, blue jeans, jazz and rock and roll. It is probably a better way to get to know our country than by what politicians or airline commercials represent. #Quote by Billy Joel

#71. I live in jeans, mainly Wrangler and Nudie. I like them as dark blue as they'll go and tightly woven. #Quote by Jason Flemyng

#72. Fifty years ago, it was the dream of every bohemian artist to be seen getting out of a limousine wearing blue jeans and sneakers. Today, it's the dream of probably half the people in the country. #Quote by Brad Holland

#73. I think, for a long time, people thought I was a figment of Phil Spector's imagination because they knew The Crystals, they knew The Ronettes, they knew Bob B. Sox and the Blue Jeans, but had never had met Darlene Love. #Quote by Darlene Love

#74. Zebra print leggings. A black leather jacket. Boots as big as your head, a pink feather boa, blue jeans, Hanes T-shirts in white and black - #Quote by J.R. Ward

#75. She was wearing blue jeans and a dark blue peasant blouse, the ties of the neck open. She looked so beautiful and soft, with her big brown eyes and her light brown hair shining in the afternoon light. He couldn't see the pink streak, and he had an incredible urge to find it. #Quote by Sarah Addison Allen

#76. When we found each other, I was very flabbergasted by his appearance. This is an American? I thought. And also, This is a Jew? He was severely short. He wore spectacles and had diminutive hairs which were not split anywhere, but rested on his head like a Shapka. (If i were like Father, I might even have dubbed him Shapka.) He did not appear like either the Americans I had witnessed in magazines, with yellow hairs and muscles, or the Jews from history books, with no hair and prominent bones. He was wearing nor blue jeans nor the uniform. In truth, he did not look like anything special at all. I was underwhelmed to the maximum. #Quote by Jonathan Safran Foer

#77. I loved lingerie. I loved the feel of satin and silk on my skin. I loved the juxtaposition of wearing a pair of two-hundred-dollar lace panties under blue jeans, like the pair I was wearing at the moment. Lingerie was a personal statement that you didn't have to declare to the world. You could be as demure or as naughty as you wanted to be, and no one ever had to know unless you showed them ... or were injured in a serious car accident. #Quote by Molly Harper

#78. As I was smoothing on the last handful across the top of my thigh, I noticed I had company. Lewus was standing there watching me, eyes half-closed but not in the least sleepy. He'd put on his blue jeans, but nothing else ... very sexy.
I couldn't help but take in the view. #Quote by Rachel Caine

#79. Fashion is merely the lowest form of ideology. To wear or not to wear blue jeans, to holiday or not to holiday in a particular place can contribute to social acceptance or bring upon us the full opprobrium of the group. Then, a few months or years later, we look back and our obsession, our fears of ridicule, seem a bit silly. By then, we are undoubtedly caught up in new fashions.
(I - The Great Leap Backwards) #Quote by John Ralston Saul

#80. Contrary to conventional wisdom, the blue blazer's a bit of a loose cannon. A suit decided long ago what it wanted to be, and it doesn't want to hear your ideas, but a blue blazer only got around to half the job. So it leaves it up to you to find its bottoms. Gray slacks, blue jeans, patterns, white pants and different blue shades all work. #Quote by Willie Geist

#81. Blue jeans have gone around the world. But that's a product. We market blue jeans better, just as we market film better. But you can't tell me that if America didn't exist, the culture of movies wouldn't exist. It's not a distinctly American art form. #Quote by David Simon

#82. Christopher Argent kept stealing disbelieving looks at Farah, his blue eyes reflecting the ambient glow like an alley cat's. Dorian understood why the man would dare in his presence.
First, because Christopher Argent was an unfeeling, fearless killer-for-hire.
And second, because most of the incarcerated men at Newgate had considered Dougan's Fairy some mythical creature, a sight too rare and beautiful to be beheld by a common man. Maybe even a fancy born of an imagination keen enough to take possession of the prison. To meet her was to gaze upon a fantasy realized, to remember the desperate yearnings of a lonely prisoner bereft of kindness, mercy, or beauty. To be blinded by the embodiment of all three of those things. For a man like Argent, one born to incarceration, the sight might have him reassessing some long-held cynical philosophies. #Quote by Kerrigan Byrne

#83. He stopped, gazing at the girl who stood before it. The man guessed the child to be ten years old. She had dark brown hair to her neck with ends that showed curls, ivory skin and large eyes of sapphire blue. Thin and barefooted, with soot on her face she wore an old, tattered white dress. As the child turned to look at him, the man thought she must be an orphan beggar and he was unable to tear his face away from her eyes. Those bright blue eyes filled with an incomprehensible sadness. What pain did she carry? #Quote by Suilyaniz Cintron

#84. We arrived someplace where the ground was as blue as the sky. Startled by our sudden appearance, blue pheasants erupted out of the blue grass and shat blue shit. #Quote by Kevin Hearne

#85. He had a mighty urge to pull out his pistol and let loose in every directon, right into the coffeehouse, smack through it's glass windows, till there was nothing but crashing and tinkling, right into the middle of the ruck of cars or simply into the middle of one of the gigantic buildings across the way, those ugly, tall, menacing buildings, or into the air, straight up, into the heavens, yes, into the hot sky, into the horrible, oppressive, vaporous, pigeon blue-grey sky, bursting it, sending the leaden lid crashing with one shot, smashing down and pulverizing everything and burying it all, all of it, the whole miserable, dreary, loud, stinking world ... #Quote by Patrick Suskind

#86. Clevinger really thought he was right, but Yossarian had proof, because strangers he didn't know shot at him with cannons every time he flew up into the air to drop bombs on them, and it wasn't funny at all. And if that wasn't funny, there were lots of things that weren't even funnier. There was nothing funny about living like a bum in a tent in Pianosa between fat mountains behind him and a placid blue sea in front that could gulp down a person with a cramp in the twinkling of an eye and ship him back to shore three days later, all charges paid, bloated, blue and putrescent, water draining out through both cold nostrils. #Quote by Joseph Heller

#87. If I wanted to have an easy job, working with the big protection of what I have already done before, I would have stayed at Porto - beautiful blue chair, the Uefa Champions League trophy, God, and after God, me. #Quote by Jose Mourinho

#88. Flynn lived in a shiny glass apartment tower on the water in Melbourne. The building looked like hundreds of mirrors reflecting the bright blue sky. He lived at the top of the high-rise.

Kope and I stepped off the elevator and looked down the hall at Flynn's door. We'd been silent. Nodding to each other, we sent our hearing into the apartment. With a quiet gasp, I yanked my auditory sense back to normal. Flynn was busy with company at the moment. Very busy. Kope made a low sound and closed his eyes, shaking his head as if to clear away the sounds he'd heard. My face heated and I shifted from foot to foot, fighting back the nervous smile that always wanted to surface at inappropriate times.

I found a small sitting area around the corner with glass walls overlooking the city. We sat, taking in the view. When my stupid urge to smile finally settled, I braved another look at Kope and pointed to myself, using my new, limited sign-language skills to tell him I'd listen. Given the new information about his inclination for lust, it was only fair. I quickly looked away, embarrassed by the crassness of the situation. I wasn't going to listen the whole time. I'd just pop in for a quick check.

Ten minutes passed. Still busy.

Half an hour passed. Busy.

Forty-five minutes passed. I shook my head to let Kope know they were still at it. He fidgeted and paced, out of his normal, calm comfort zone.

An hour and ten minutes passed #Quote by Wendy Higgins

#89. I met some brothers out from Canada recently who are real cool people. They make Spanish-language music called Cold Blue and I met then at a Lat-Rap conference and they seem like real good peoples from Central America ... and that's what it is. It's just based on mutual respect. So when I meet people like that I'm like, "if y'all going to be real with me, I'm going to be real with y'all" and that's all it takes. #Quote by Immortal Technique

#90. Monstrous Sea Private Message

2:54 p.m. 28 - Oct -16

rainmaker: Hey, it's Wallace. Please tell me I blew your mind again. You make the best face when your mind is being blown.

MirkerLurker: Whoa that sounded dirty.

rainmaker: Too much?

MirkerLurker: Ummmmmmmmmm

rainmaker: Too much. Noted.

MONSTROUS SEA FORUMS

USER PROFILE

rainmaker *

Fanfiction Moderator

AGE: Not telling you

LOCATION: NO

INTERESTS: MS. Writing things.Campfires. Sweaters. Sleeping in. Dogs.

Followers 1,350,199 | Following 54 | Posts 9,112

[Unique Works 144]

UPDATES

View earlier updates

Oct 20 2016

The next chapter of the Auburn Blue fanfic will probably be a little late. Just started at the new school. So, that's fun.

Oct 21 2016

Thanks to @joojooboogee for my new avatar! #DallasRainerForever

Oct 23 2016

If math homework were a real person, I'd be doing 25 to life. #Mathslaughter

Oct 24 2016

There might actually be other MS fans at this school. THANK JESUS I'M SAVED.

Oct 26 2016

Life is destroying me today. No time to write. Stupid math. #Mathslaughter

Oct 27 2016

Definitely another MS fan at this school. Pros: Awesome; Not alone; Pretty girl. Cons: Pretty girl. #Fuuuuuuuuck

Oct 28 2016 #Quote by Francesca Zappia

#91. He kept one eye on Matt as he talked. He could tell Matt was close to orgasm by the way he title his head to the side and bit his lower lip.
"And what about your partner, Mr. Tucker?" Troy asked. Chris raised his eyebrows in surprise and Mr. Waters gave him a greasy, unpleasant smile. "Does your partner cook?"
Chris grinned as Matt came all over the red leather seat. "Actually, he makes a delicious white sauce. #Quote by Ally Blue

#92. Don't tell the others," he said. When she stepped back, he'd pulled his boyish face over his features again.
"Do you need to go?" Blue asked. She meant go for ever, but she couldn't say it out loud.
He whispered, "Not yet."
Blue wiped a tear from her face with the heel of her hand, and he wiped a tear from her other cheek with the heel of his. His chin dimpled in that way that comes before tears, but she put her fingers against it and it resolved.
They were wheeling towards the end of something, and they both knew it. #Quote by Maggie Stiefvater

#93. I think a lot of blue collar people related to me because a lot of people work for their money. #Quote by Larry Bird

#94. I am begging you. Drop this bullshit with me. Because, God's honest truth, I don't know that I'm strong enough to do it for both of us."
I blinked at him, hating that I was so transparent but downright gleeful because… "You feel it too?"
He scoffed, those heavy, blue eyes coming back to mine. "I've known you two days and I'm drowning in it, Cora. So, yeah. It's safe to say I feel it. #Quote by Aly Martinez

#95. I learned from Seurat this important thing about colour and light, that 'a light' can be built from colour. I learned a great deal about interaction, that 'a blue' in different parts will play all sorts of different roles. #Quote by Bridget Riley

#96. I'm an actor, because I get to see other sides of life and I get to be other people and it excites me so much. #Quote by Callum Blue

#97. Billions of bilious blue blistering barnacles in a thundering typhoon! #Quote by Herge

#98. She knew her nature. She would recognize it if she came face-to-face with it. It would be a blue-eyed green-eyed monster, wolflike and snarling. A vicious beast that struck out at friends in uncontrollable anger, a killer that offered itself as a vessel of the king's fury.
But then it was a strange monster, for beneath its exterior it was frightened and sickened by its own violence. It chastised itself for its savagery. And sometimes it had no heart for violence and rebelled against it utterly.
A monster that refused, sometimes, to behave like a monster. When a monster stopped behaving like a monster , did it stop being a monster? Did it become something else?
Perhaps she wouldn't recognize her own nature after all. #Quote by Kristin Cashore

#99. That's your pitch to women? Let's get naked?" He snorted. "No wonder your balls are blue. #Quote by Nalini Singh

#100. Remove your hands, brother!" Raistlin said in a flat, soft whisper.
"I'll see you in the Abyss!"
"I said remove your hands!" There was a flash of blue light, a crackle and sizzling sound, Caramon screamed in pain, loosening his hold as jarring, paralyzing shock surged through his body.
"I warned you," Raistlin straightened his robes and resumed his seat.
"By the gods, I will kill you this time!" Caramon said through clenched teeth, drawing his sword with trembling hand.
"Then do so," Raistlin snapped, looking up from the spellbook he had reopened, "and get it over with. This constant threatening becomes boring! #Quote by Margaret Weis

#101. I felt a warm hand touch mine.
"Are you okay?"
"If you mean am I injured, then the answer is no. If you mean am I 'okay' as in am-I-confident-I'm-still-sane, the answer is still no."
Ren frowned. "We have to find a way to get across the chasm."
"You're certainly welcome to give it a try." I waved him off and went back to drinking my water.
He moved to the edge and peered across, looking speculatively at the distance. Changing back to a tiger, he trotted a few paces back in the direction we had come from, turned, and ran at full speed toward the hole.
"Ren, no!" I screamed.
He leapt, clearing the hole easily, and landed lightly on his front paws. Then he trotted a short distance away and did the same thing to come back. He landed at my feet and changed back to human form.
"Kells, I have an idea."
"Oh, this I've got to hear. I just hope you don't plan on including me in this scheme of yours. Ah. Let me guess. I know. You want to tie a rope to your tail, leap across, tie it off, and then have me pull my body across the rope, right?"
He cocked his head as if considering it, and then shook his head. "No, you don't have the strength to do something like that. Plus, we have no rope and nothing to tie a rope to."
"Right. So what's the plan?"
He held my hands and explained. "What I'm proposing will be much easier. Do you trust me?"
I was going to be sick. "I trust you. It's just-" I looked into his concerned blue eyes an #Quote by Colleen Houck

#102. Would you like to try them on?" he asked, blue eyes sparkling. "They look just your size. #Quote by Kate Willis

#103. Because right now, he is staring at me with these blue eyes. Not the usual blue. Not like my Mister-Know-It-All-blue. My mister has turquoise-blue eyes. This guy has a more sophisticated version of turquoise. His eyes are teal. Teal signifies trustworthiness and reliability. It promotes spiritual advancement and commitment. #Quote by Ritika Chhabra

#104. The sun, like a boil on the bright blue ass of day, rolled gradually forward and spread its legs wide to reveal the pubic thatch of night, a hairy darkness in which stars crawled like lice, and the moon crabbed slowly upward like an albino dog tick striving for the anal gulch. #Quote by Joe R. Lansdale

#105. Her eyes had the blue of cornflowers, and they smiled with her lips, #Quote by W. Somerset Maugham

#106. That was Kate's first thought. Phoebe had said cute. She'd said he was a nice guy. She had mentioned the killer smile and blue eyes, but she had failed to warn Kate that she wouldn't be able to breathe when she actually met Tucker's gaze directly. #Quote by Erin Nicholas

#107. I've always been a jeans and t-shirt kind of guy. #Quote by Jason Mraz

#108. I'll find out who's inside. Wait here and keep alert!' Hallam rasped. He skirted the main path to skulk towards one of the shuttered windows on the building's eastern wall. There was a crack in the wood and he gently inched closer to peer inside.
There was a hearth-fire with a pot bubbling away and a battered table made of a length of wood over two pieces of cut timber. A small ham hung from the rafters, away from the rats and mice. He couldn't see anyone but there was a murmur of voices. Hallam leaned in even closer and a young boy with hair the colour of straw saw the movement to stare. It was Little Jim. Thank God, the child was safe. Snot hung from his nose and he was pale. Hallam put a finger to his lips, but the boy, not even four, did not understand, and just gaped innocently back.
Movement near the window. A man wearing a blue jacket took up a stone bottle and wiped his long flowing moustache afterwards. His hair was shoulder-length, falling unruly over the red collar of his jacket. Tied around his neck was a filthy red neckerchief. A woman moaned and the man grinned with tobacco stained teeth at the sound. Laughter and French voices. The woman whimpered and Little Jim turned to watch unseen figures. His eyes glistened and his bottom lip dropped. The woman began to plead and Hallam instinctively growled.
The Frenchman, hearing the noise, pushed the shutter open and the pistol's cold muzzle pressed against his forehead.
Hallam watched the man's eye #Quote by David Cook

#109. This dirty little world full of confusion, and the blue rag, stretched overhead for a sky, is so low we could touch it with our hand. #Quote by Olive Schreiner

#110. That is the charm of a map. It represents the other side of the horizon where everything is possible. It has the magic of anticipation without the toil and sweat of realization. The greatest romance ever written pales before the possibilities of adventure that lie in the faint blue trails from sea to sea. The perfect journey is never finished, the goal is always just across the next river, round the shoulder of the next mountain. There is always one more track to follow, one more mirage to explore. Achievement is the price which the wanderer pays for the right to venture. #Quote by Rosita Forbes

#111. Eventually they climb sixteen steps into the Gallery of Mineralogy. The guide shows them a gate from Brazil and violet amethysts and a meteorite on a pedestal that he claims is as ancient as the solar system itself. Then he leads them single file down two twisting staircases and along several corridors and stops outside an iron door with a single keyhole. "End of tour," he says.

A girl says, "But what's through there?"

"Behind this door is another locked door, slightly smaller."

"And what's behind that?"

"A third locked door, smaller yet."

"What's behind that?"

"A fourth door, and a fifth, on and on until you reach a thirteenth, a little locked door no bigger than a shoe."

The children lean forward. "And then?"

"Behind the thirteenth door" - the guide flourishes one of his impossibly wrinkled hands - "is the Sea of Flames."

Puzzlement. Fidgeting. "Come now. You've never heard of the Sea of Flames?"

The children shake their heads. Marie-Laure squints up at the naked bulbs strung in three-yard intervals along the ceiling; each sets a rainbow-colored halo rotating in her vision.

The guide hangs his cane on his wrist and rubs his hands together. "It's a long story. Do you want to hear a long story?"

They nod.

He clears his throat. "Centuries ago, in the place we now call Borneo, a prince plucked a blue stone from a dry riverbed because h #Quote by Anthony Doerr

#112. Bright coral and sand spread thirty-five feet below, crisp in the air-clear water. Blue clouds of Creole wrasse parted as Hugh dropped. White and yellow flashes of yellowtail snapper flitting past. How could he have questioned if coming back here was the right thing? Bubbles rose from five buddy teams. Swimming five different directions. Hugh kicked hard after the nearest pair. #Quote by Tim W. Jackson

#113. I do understand sometimes when actors say there's no one to talk to, or you can't react to, there's truth in that, but for me, I've always enjoyed green screen, and blue screen. #Quote by Nicolas Cage

#114. Lightning my pilot sits; In a cavern under is fettered the thunder, It struggles and howls at fits; Over earth and ocean, with gentle motion, This pilot is guiding me, Lured by the love of the genii that move In the depths of the purple sea; Over the rills, and the crags, and the hills, Over the lakes and the plains, Wherever he dream, under mountain or stream The Spirit he loves remains; And I all the while bask in heaven's blue smile, Whilst he is dissolving in rains. #Quote by Percy Bysshe Shelley

#115. Are you driving?" I asked Sam.
"Nope. I plan to do some drinking," Sam said.
"You're not old enough," I reminded him.
"Never stopped me before."
"Sam!"
He halted and glared at me. "What? You gonna tattle to Mom and Dad?"
Was I? No. But he didn't know that. Besides, as irritating as my brother was, he was good for one thing: blackmail. And it was payback time for the snowball he'd hit me with yesterday.
"Not if you make a contribution to the Kate-have-a-good-time fund."
"Ah, Kate, come on. I'm not hurting anyone. I'm a responsible drinker."
"How can you be responsible if you're breaking the law?"
"I don't drive when I drink. No one gets hurt except me, if I happen to fall flat on my face."
"You get that drunk?"
"I've got better things to do than discuss my life with you." He reached into his back pocket and pulled out his wallet. "How much?"
"Twenty should do it."
"Five."
"Ten."
He held out the bill that had one of my favorite presidents on it. "You know, Kate, no one likes a snitch."
I snatched it from his fingers, folded it up, and shoved it into the front pocket of my jeans. "Payback's a bitch, Brother."
"What?"
"I wouldn't have tattled. But I didn't like getting hit with a snowball yesterday, either. So now we're even."
He snapped his fingers. "Give it back."
"Nope. Possession is nine-tenths of the law."
"You don't even know what that means."
"And I suppose y #Quote by Rachel Hawthorne

#116. In Cootamundra the station was quiet. Tina looked around but before she could see anyone she saw the poster on the wall. Lockie saw it too. It stopped him mid-stride. It was surrounded by For Sale notices and babysitting flyers.Over the months it could have become covered over as hope was lost but it hadn't been. Right in the middle, with some clear space around it, was the colour poster of a blue-eyed boy. His head was covered in golden curls and he had a deep dimple on his right cheek. His face had been enlarged so that every freckle could be counted. He was Lachlan Williams and in this town they were still looking for him. He looked nothing like the pale, skinny boy Tina was with. Underneath the picture were the words -
Missing:Lachlan Williams Aged 8 Disappeared from the Easter Show April 2010. If you have any information please contact...There were a whole lot of numbers and a website address. Lockie stared at the poster for a minute. He pushed his hood back down and ran his hand over his brush-cut blond hair.
'What - ' Tina began.
'He shaved it,' said Lockie before she could complete the question. 'Every few weeks, when it got longer, he would shave it again.' His voice was two hundred years old.Tina saw her hand on the poker and felt a surge of triumph at what she had done. Some people just deserved to die. It wasn't a nice thought but it was true. You couldn't change someone who was fundamentally evil. Of everything Lockie must have suffered, and Tina c #Quote by Nicole Trope

#117. As a picture painted in yellow always radiates spiritual warmth, or as one in blue has apparently a cooling effect, so green is only boring. #Quote by Wassily Kandinsky

#118. You, the woman; I, the man; this, the world:
And each is the work of all.

There is the muffled step in the snow; the stranger;
The crippled wren; the nun; the dancer; the Jesus-wing
Over the walkers in the village; and there are
Many beautiful arms around us and the things we know.

See how those stars tramp over the heavens on their sticks
Of ancient light: with what simplicity that blue
Takes eternity into the quiet cave of God, where Ceasar
And Socrates, like primitive paintings on a wall,
Look, with idiot eyes, on the world where we two are.

You, the sought for; I, the seeker; this, the search:
And each is the mission of all.

For greatness is only the drayhorse that coaxes
The built cart out; and where we go is reason.
But genius is an enormous littleness, a trickling
Of heart that covers alike the hare and the hunter.

How smoothly, like the sleep of a flower, love,
The grassy wind moves over night's tense meadow:
See how the great wooden eyes of the forrest
Stare upon the architecture of our innocence.

You, the village; I, the stranger; this, the road:
And each is the work of all.

Then, not that man do more, or stop pity; but that he be
Wider in living; that all his cities fly a clean flag...
We have been alone too long, love; it is terribly late
For the pierced feet on the water and we must not die #Quote by Kenneth Patchen

#119. Where did you get your eyes so blue? Out of the sky as I came through. #Quote by George MacDonald

#120. Even that great poverty which had been and remains mine let up for a few days. I was not, as it happens, opposed to this poverty: I accepted to pay the price for not being a slave to life, to settle for the right I had assumed once and for all to not express any ideas but my own. We were not many in doing this ... Poverty passed by in the distance, made lovelier and almost justified, a little like what has been called, in the case of a painter who was one of your first friends, the blue period. It seemed the almost inevitable consequence of my refusal to behave the way almost all the others did, whether on one side or another. This poverty, whether you had the time to dread it or not, imagine it was only the other side of the miraculous coin of your existence: the Night of the Sunflower would have been less radiant without it. #Quote by Andre Breton