Best 20 quotes in «finn quotes» category

Dude, you need to appreciate how goddamn gifted you are. You’re so smart that I don’t understand what you’re talking about half the time, and we all know how brilliant I am.” Finn winked. “Matty, you’re amazing.

Algebraic to the limit!

Each move seemed to take a lifetime: more than anything, I needed him to know that this was all done with his consent; that at any moment he could say 'no' or move away and everything would still be okay. But he stayed, his eyes never leaving my face.

I feel us tilting toward each other like trees in a strong breeze. I've been craving the sight of him for days, but now its not enough. I'm not sure who moves first. The inches between us are erased until I'm in his arms and my mouth finds his.

Eleanor laughs. “Oh, I know that, silly. But it’s easier not to let them realize it, because then they’d stop ignoring me, and they’d realize how much mischief I really get up to. Now, Lord Ackerly, I will have to ask you to stop stroking my hand, or my own shadow might replace your missing one.

Gabe says you make a mean chicken." Finn, who is sitting by the fireplace making smoke, comments for the first time. "Well, she certainly doesn't make a nice one.

Finn gave a soft laugh. 'What's so funny?' 'I think you're the first person to actually apologise for inflicting pain. Usually it's someone's hobby.

I wish many things, but I wish I had been able to tell you that I love you, in so many more ways than that word can convey in Alben.

I push my fingers through his hair, matching his smile. “You will need a good deal more charm to persuade me.” He stands so abruptly I nearly fall on my side. “What is it? What’s wrong?” “I find myself in sudden dire need to increase the potency of my charm spelling.

Wanted to give you a heads up: I heard that Flat Finn sustained an injury the other day. Nothing major, though. Something to do with Matt, a steaming iron, and maniacal shouts of, “There are no wrinkles allowed in this house! You may be flat, but you’re not smooth enough yet for this family!”

Please promise to take the very best care of my only girl. With so much love my heart might split in two...

You forgot ‘dashingly handsome.’ Dear friend is nice but hardly covers the extent of my qualities.” Eleanor looks up from her own letter writing. “How did she describe me? Because I have always preferred my eyes to be referred to as the ‘color of a storm-tossed sea.’ If either of you were wondering.” “You did not fare much better. In fact, I think I am ahead. I am a ‘dear friend,’ and you are merely ‘recently ill.

So,” I said. “Exactly how long have the two of you been together? I assume that you’ve been going hot and heavy ever since that night at Fletcher’s house when the bounty hunters interrupted you. Am I right?” Finn and Bria didn’t look at me or each other. “Right,” Bria mumbled. “Although if it makes you uncomfortable—” “Then Gin’s just going to have to deal with it,” Finn cut her off. Bria stared at him in surprise. “What?” Finn said. “I worked too hard and too long to get you into my bed to just cut you loose now, cupcake.” Bria’s eyes narrowed. “Cupcake?” “Cupcake.” Finn grinned at her. “Or would you prefer snuggle bunny?” Bria’s hand drifted down to the gun on her leather belt, as though she wanted to pull it out and shoot Finn with it. Well, it was good to know I wasn’t the only one who occasionally had that reaction to him. ... Then I fixed them both with a hard stare. “Just don’t ask me to take sides when the two of you go at each other. Okay?” They nodded, then looked at each other. Finn waggled his eyebrows in a suggestive manner, and Bria snorted. But she couldn’t stop a grin from curving her lips.

Sometimes funny is all you've got.

There! I can’t fix the whole country, and it will only last a few days, but I present you with the sun, on behalf of my dreadfully boring magic.” He bows low, holding out his hand. I reach out tentatively, afraid of being burned, but the globe merely hovers above my hand where I slide it on top of Finn’s. It’s golden and deliciously warm and instantly makes me happier and more at ease than I’ve been in weeks. I laugh, delighted, and by the look on Finn’s face you’d think I was the one who had given him an absurd and wonderful gift.

Thank you for giving me another chance." "Thank you for deserving one.

That is righteous, blondie! Hey, we need to come up with superhero names. How about capes—and codpieces? Just think about the idea for now, chew it over for a bit, let me know,” he said. “Hey, do you guys ever hear . . . voices?” I groaned. “All the time. I thought I was going crazy.” “Duude,” he said in agreement. “And before the Flash, all kinds of freaky shit was happening to me. I started speaking this weird language. And stuff started transforming—but only in front of me. I saw my cat walking on the ceiling, saw lava coming out of a faucet. The worst? I was doing this girl, and suddenly she looked like my gym teacher!” He shuddered. And I’d thought I had it bad. Matthew and Finn had also suffered. “What’d your parents think?” I asked, wondering if Finn had gotten institutionalized too. “Dad couldn’t handle my ‘erratic behavior’ anymore, so he pawned me off on Mom. Same result. They were just about to break out the straitjacket—or, worse, military school—when she got the brilliant idea to ship me from Malibu to North Carolina to rough it with my redneck cousins.” So Matthew and I hadn’t been the only ones deemed “damaged” by our folks. It made sense, though. I wondered what Selena’s story was. “Yeah, Mom figured they’d toughen me up mentally,” Finn said. “I can’t even make this shit up. Mental health—through the chugging of Natty Light, the chasing of hot hick ass, and the killing of ducks and bucks.

That's such bullshit, Mythology repeated by parents because it lets them force their kids into sports and push them too hard by pretending that in the end it will pay off with the holy scholarship. You know how many kids get a free ride? Hardly any. Like, maybe fourteen.' -Finn (165)

You can't stay in the library all day!" I hiss, sitting next to him. "This is a school. Studying is encouraged." "What exactly are you studying?" He folds the paper and gives me his cat grin. "History students.

You’re a wild and disobedient girl with violence impulses who chafes at authority and your thin veneer of polished civility has all the transparency of a whore’s nightgown.