Best 13 quotes in «phoebe quotes» category

You're not seriously going?" Troy asks. "Of course I'm going," I say. "What other choice do I have?" "Um...not going.

He has definitely cornered the market on enigma. I hope Stella goes for the deeply layered type.

And Phoebe and Sebastian went their separate ways, to the blacksmith shop and the library, after several backward glances that weren't coordinated enough to allow either to know that the other one was looking.

NO SHORTS or SANDAL!! This for your own protection. Tomorrow's boot camp will be something SPECIAL! Meet in front of the maintenance shed at the north end of the quad at 10 A.M! Latecomers will be left behind and this is a day you will not want to miss! - Adara - I roll my eyes. Besides her overuse of exclamation points and her tendency to yell, the idea that we're doing "something special" in camp tomorrow is not exciting. It's terrifying.

Did you-" Griffin shoves past him and grabs me by the shoulders. "Are you alright?" "Of course. Didn't they tell you?" From the dark look in his normally bright eyes, I'm going to guess no. He twists to look back over his shoulder and practically growls. "They didn't tell me anything. Except that I had to wait out here." "Um, I need to go," Troy says, backing down the steps. "I have class in the morning." "Coward," I taunt.

Family is family, and business is business. I love the boy, but not that much.” “Who are you kidding?” Heath had said. “You'd walk over coals for him.” “Yes, but I'd leave my checkbook behind while I was doing it.

Yep those are goosebumps. Or a bad case of arm acne. Or as I call it, armcne.

The Library of Alexandria?" I ask. "Didn't that burn down?" Mrs Philipoulus scoffs. "Damn fool Hypatia. Athena tried to convince her to install a sprinkler system. But no-o-o, no one was going to tell the librarianatrix how to run her library.

We all know Damian's big on secrecy. The man makes the CIA look like a gabfest. He is Mr Need-To-Know. As in, students never need to know.

We believe in you, Phoebe," Stella says. "You just have to believe in yourself." I roll my eyes behind the blindfold. As if that's not a cheesy, movie-of-the-week line.

Phoebe was thinking, Insubordinate. What a lovely word. And when was the last time she'd heard a nice-looking young man use it? Why-never, that's when. What a treat. And to have a ruler who could say conscientious and citizenry in the same sentence. Lovely.

She hated using airplane toilets. She was always afraid the plane would choose the exact moment she was most defenseless to crash, and she'd spend her final seconds of life spiraling toward earth with her bottom bare to the world.

The St. Vincents arrived with their daughter Phoebe, a red-haired infant with an alarmingly changeable temperament. One moment the child was placid and adorable. The next, she was a squalling devil-spawn who could only be soothed by the sound of her father’s voice. “There, darling,” St. Vincent had been known to coo into the infant’s ear. “Has someone displeased you? Ignored you? Oh, the insolence. My poor princess shall have anything she wants…” And, appeased by her father’s outrageous spoiling, Phoebe would settle into hiccupping smiles.