Best 19 quotes of Sonal Panse on MyQuotes

Cross my heart, it's the truth. My Ma consulted a Seer when I was born. He's fated to marry a girl that wears that ring, she said.” “Did she now?” I said. “Well, this is in mad fashion in Mahmonir, so, prepare yourself, you're going to be overburdened with wives once the word gets around!

Family is everything!” he always said when he went overboard with sentimentality. “If you don’t have family, what do you have?

Ger,” he said. “My cousin Ger. Yours too by adoption. Remember him? The one you have yet to meet.” “What about him?” “Pay attention. I said I can get him to beta read for you.” “What? Why?” “Why not? He’s got plenty of practice. His little sister, Bonnie, forces him to beta read all her namby pamby stuff. We can slip your draft into the stack and see what he has to say. Be warned though. He makes Bonnie cry.” “Does he?” “Uh-huh. He’s like Pa in that regard. They expect perfection everywhere and they can’t lie their way out of a paper bag when they encounter imperfection. So, won’t be great for your morale or anything, but your draft will get pounded into shape.

If you think it's charming to be overbearing,” I said. “I do, I do!” she said. “I adore strong alpha males and he's the only one that's ever managed to make me feel weak and womanly.” She grinned at my expression. “Want a word of advice?” she said. “Study him. Seriously. Characters like him drive half the romance market.

I need to read that,” said the busker, his grin widening. “Looks like something I might enjoy.” “It’s a romance for women,” I said, curtly. “That makes it not safe for men or something, that’s what you’re telling me? What’s that fellow doing there with her in that case?

It had been a big mistake, introducing her to Tavi on one of his visits home. She had fallen hard and made up every conceivable excuse to turn up at our place that week. Tavi had taken it in his usual stride; he was accustomed to my friends making idiots of themselves over him and he had developed a fine knack of rebuffing them without hurting their feelings too much. “You deserve a Prince,” he had told her. “So here's a tip – don't waste your time on a common man like me.

It was a fairly large house, larger than all our previous dwellings. There were two pinkwashed, picture- windowed, orange gable-roofed storeys, encompassing eight rooms, and an adjoining, presently shuttered garage. A friendly, unsymmetrical house, with pink bougainvillea hanging over the iron-lace decorated, semi-circular front porch and ivy climbing from the walls to the uneven gables.

LOOK AT HIM! Mum, LOOK! OUR NEW DOG! ISN’T HE A BEAUTY?” “Another DOG!” came Maia’s amazed voice.

People might say that they liked honesty, but they didn’t, really.

Salila!” said Maia, outraged. “Another DOG? ON TOP OF ALL THE OTHER ANIMALS?” “SO WHAT....?” I began, and then got cut off as Polly attempted to land her shaggy grey bulk into my lap, unmindful as ever of our respective sizes, long floppy ears flopping and entire behind wagging, whipping her long tail, and barking in ear-deafening bursts.

Sanne intervened to ask the title of my book, and Isolde said, scathingly, “'Love on the Infinity Express'. That sounds like the next big brainy best-seller, doesn't it?” “Sounds like total hand-holding all the way from Samanbar to Alsalem,” said Arriana. “Dear Lea, no, that title won't do. Couldn't you come up with something more jazzy? Like 'The Dashing Soldier Boy's Ravishing Desire'? And, yes, come up with a titillating cover too, alright? Bare breasts, male and female, with a fuchsia color scheme is the way to go.

She’s a mixed-breed and not the least bit aggressive. She decided long ago she wanted to be a pet dog, not a guard dog. I think that’s another reason why that man wanted to get rid of her. I’ve never understood all this fascination with aggressiveness. It’s like an epidemic. People don’t just want aggressive dogs, they want to be aggressive themselves.

Shut up, lumpen-head,” Billy had said, setting the stage for our future amicable relationship. I remembered that very well too. That had been a first too. Nobody had called me a lumpen-head before that. Tavi had had to explain what it meant, and then I had punched Billy in the stomach. People had to help Pradyun separate us and one of the ladies had exclaimed, “But she looked like such a sweet, little girl too!” “She's not a girl,” Billy had said. “She's an ugly lumpen-head, and her parents found her under a toadstool.” Billy had been a sweet, little boy himself. Still was. Hadn't changed a bit over the years.

The little runt is my little brother. The baby son of my mother there. Try and be a little respectful.” “Gawd, Auntie, of course, I didn't mean any disrespect!” said Declan, turning at once to Mum. “You can't think that! Why, I love that little sod like he was a pest from my own home infestation.

There are people that have had worse happen to them. All those people that died in the hotel bombing? All those that were maimed and left orphaned?

We have no business squatting on other people’s land and we have only ourselves to blame if they take a dim view of it. I mean, c’mon, what would you do if someone barged into our house and just took it over? How would you react? Are you going to say, welcome, intruders, take it all, we’ll gladly confine ourselves to the bathroom. That is, until you want us out of the bathroom as well. Then we will happily kill ourselves and leave you to deal with our bodies as you please. Is that what you would say? Of course not. You would make a complete ruckus. So why are you surprised when other people do the same?

Who’s it?” said Conor Larkin, appearing in the adjoining balcony, followed by Ricky and Jason. “The Turtle from the Train Station,” said Guy. Right, I thought, that’s the impression I made. He remembers me as an honorary member of the reptile family.

Why should I ignore them? In my own house? Spiteful snobs! I’ve appalling taste, do I? I’m skeletal, am I? Anyone would look skeletal next to them. They are both starting to look like porkers! As soon as I go down, I’m going to mention it. I’m going to particularly point out Isolde’s thunder thighs. I suppose it’s appalling good taste to display them in such tight jeans. I’m going to ask how she even got into those pants without splitting the seams.

Yeah,” I said. “And that thing you just did...” “This?” he inquired, puckering his lips again at me. “Yes, that. The blowfish beat you to that, jackass. How do you like jackass?” “Heeeeeeee-HAW!” he cried, punching both fists into the air. “Stick to something more loving though. Then I won’t have the urge to bray every time you call me.