Autograph Best Quotes

For your birthday I’ll give you 100 copies of your least favorite author’s book, and they’ll all be autographed. Now, should I sign the cover, or the inside flap?

There's only three times you see a look like that on a guy's face, when he's looking at the world's best basketball player, when he's getting an autograph from like the best action hero ever, or when he's totally in love with another guy.

My lord?” Nick turned at the tentative, feminine voice, to find two young women standing nearby, watching him eagerly. Nick spoke, wary. “Yes? ” “We—” one of them began to speak, then stopped, uncertain. The other nudged her toward him. “Yes?” “We are fans.” Nick blinked. “Of?” “Of yours.” “Of mine.” “Indeed!” The second girl smiled broadly and stepped closer, holding out what looked suspiciously like— Nick swore under his breath. “Would you be willing to autograph our magazine? ” Nick held up a hand. “I would, girls, but you’ve got the wrong brother.” He pointed to Gabriel. “That is Lord Nicholas.” Rock snorted as the two shifted their attention to the Marquess of Ralston, a dazzlingly handsome copy of their prey, and tittered their excitement. Gabriel instantly eased into his role, turning a brilliant smile on the girls. “I would be happy to autograph your magazine.” He took the journal and the pen they proffered and said, “You know, I must confess, this is the first time I’ve ever drawn the attention of ladies when in the company of my brother. Ralston has always been considered the more handsome of us.” “No!” the girls protested. Nick rolled his eyes. “Indeed. Ask anyone. They’ll tell you it’s the marquess who is the best specimen. Surely you’ve heard that.” He looked up at them with a winning smile. "You can admit it, girls. My feelings shan’t be hurt." Gabriel held up the magazine, displaying the cover, which boasted: Inside! London’s Lords to Land! “Yes … there’s no question that this is going to do wonders for my reputation. I’m so happy to see that it’s getting around that I’m on the hunt for a wife!” The girls nearly expired from delight.

YO MAMA SO OLD... Yo mama so old the back of her head looks like a raisin. Yo mama so old her social security number is 1. Yo mama so old when she was a child rainbows were still in black and white. Yo mama so old when she was in school there was no history class. Yo mama so old she has a picture of Moses in her yearbook. Yo mama so old she was a crossing guard when Moses parted the red sea. Yo mama so old she was a waitress at the Last Supper. Yo mama so old she has an autographed bible. Yo mama so old she knew Mr. Clean when he had an afro. Yo mama so old she knew Gandalf before he had a beard.

This is for my number one hater. You make my life a living cat walk. With your sarcasm words and cheap chat. No wonder why I'm the best talk of the town. Why don't you just take a photo, get an autograph no better yet tear my skin off and stick it on your trophy wall. I mean seriously! Just because I'm better at and in everything doesn't mean you got to hate.

The first movie star I met was Norma Shearer. I was eight years old at the time and going to school with Irving Thalberg Jr. His father, the longtime production chief at Metro-Goldwyn-Mayer, devoted a large part of his creative life to making Norma a star, and he succeeded splendidly. Unfortunately, Thalberg had died suddenly in 1936, and his wife's career had begun to slowly deflate. Just like kids everywhere else, Hollywood kids had playdates at each other's houses, and one day I went to the Thalberg house in Santa Monica, where Irving Sr. had died eighteen months before. Norma was in bed, where, I was given to understand, she spent quite a bit of time so that on those occasions when she worked or went out in public she would look as rested as possible. She was making Marie Antoinette at the time, and to see her in the flesh was overwhelming. She very kindly autographed a picture for me, which I still have: "To Cadet Wagner, with my very best wishes. Norma Shearer." Years later I would be with her and Martin Arrouge, her second husband, at Sun Valley. No matter who the nominal hostess was, Norma was always the queen, and no matter what time the party was to begin, Norma was always late, because she would sit for hours—hours!—to do her makeup, then make the grand entrance. She was always and forever the star. She had to be that way, really, because she became a star by force of will—hers and Thalberg's. Better-looking on the screen than in life, Norma Shearer was certainly not a beauty on the level of Paulette Goddard, who didn't need makeup, didn't need anything. Paulette could simply toss her hair and walk out the front door, and strong men grew weak in the knees. Norma found the perfect husband in Martin. He was a lovely man, a really fine athlete—Martin was a superb skier—and totally devoted to her. In the circles they moved in, there were always backbiting comments when a woman married a younger man—" the stud ski instructor," that sort of thing. But Martin, who was twelve years younger than Norma and was indeed a ski instructor, never acknowledged any of that and was a thorough gentleman all his life. He had a superficial facial resemblance to Irving Thalberg, but Thalberg had a rheumatic heart and was a thin, nonathletic kind of man—intellectually vital, but physically weak. Martin was just the opposite—strong and virile, with a high energy level. Coming after years of being married to Thalberg and having to worry about his health, Martin must have been a delicious change for Norma.

When a man mailed to 770 a photograph of the Rebbe, which he asked the Rebbe to autograph so that he could thereby feel a closer connection to him, the Rebbe responded that the best way to establish a close connection between the two of them was for the man to start following the Chabad daily study cycle. That way, the man and the Rebbe would connect every day as they studied the same texts.

I am the best Betsy the world’s ever unknown, and I wish people respected my privacy enough to spy on me and ask for autographs.


the inerrancy of the Bible applies only to the original manuscripts (see autographs), not to later copies of these manuscripts. Textual criticism has revealed that many minor errors crept into later copies of the biblical documents. The scribes were not divinely inspired in making their copies, so we have no reason to expect their copies to be without error. The Bible we possess today is very close to the originals—the Bible is, in fact, the best attested work in all of history—but it is not identical to the originals. Third,

Before his death, A.C. had taken to answering to Atticus and signing his name that way when anyone asked him to autograph his daughter's novel; the year after he died, Gregory Peck carried his pocket watch as he accepted the Academy Award for best actor.

The Truth About Mr. Harrison Mr. Harrison’s first name is George. “I know Mr. Harrison’s real name,” I told everybody after I handed back the wallet and he left. “What is it?” Ryan asked. “His name is . . . ,” I said. “I’m not telling.” “Come on, A.J.!” said Michael. “Spill the beans.”4 “I’ll be your best friend,” said Neil the nude kid. “Arlo, what’s Mr. Harrison’s first name?” said Andrea. “It’s George,” I said. “George?” said Alexia. “That’s not a weird name.” “I wonder why he wouldn’t tell us his name was George,” said Michael. “George Harrison,” said Andrea. “Wait a minute! George Harrison was somebody famous! He was one of the Beatles!” “One of the what?” asked Neil the nude kid. “That old rock group, dumbhead,” said Michael. Oh, yeah! My parents told me about the Beatles, and I played this video game called Rock Band, where you play Beatle songs. It’s cool. Everybody knows who the Beatles were. “Mr. Harrison was one of the Beatles?” asked Ryan. “Wait a minute,” Andrea said. “George Harrison of the Beatles died a long time ago.” “He must have faked his death,” I told her. “Famous people do that all the time, you know.” “That doesn’t make any sense, A.J.,” said Michael. “Why would a big rock star fake his death and get a job as a tech guy in a school?” “He probably hated being famous,” I told them. “Celebrities get sick of signing autographs and having people take pictures of them all the time. He must be hiding out in our school so his fans won’t bother him.” “Being a nerdy tech guy would be the perfect disguise,” Alexia admitted. “But Mr. Harrison doesn’t look anything like the other George Harrison,” Andrea said. “I’ve seen pictures of him.” “Haven’t you ever heard of plastic surgery?

She wrote to Diana on 18 July 1938: You remember my little friend from Vienna who you said was like an Indian, and his pretty blonde fiancée who asked the Führer for an autograph in the Osteria. Well, yesterday she telephoned and said could she come and see me for five minutes, but her fiancé mustn’t know anything about it. So, this morning she came … Heinz, her fiancé, was a member of the SS in Vienna – I believe since 1932. He was a tremendously enthusiastic Nazi, and really risked everything for the cause during the Schuschnigg regime. Well, it seems that just after the Machtübernahme [in the context she obviously means the Anschluss with Austria] his father, also a member of the Partei, who had brought him up to be very national-denkend [nationalistically minded], told him that both his (Heinz’s) mother’s parents were Jewish. Of course, poor Heinz was completely erledigt [shattered] when he heard it and wanted to shoot himself at once, which it seems to me would have been the best way out. Though, officially, he doesn’t count as a Jew as both the grandparents were baptized. But for Heinz, being a real Nazi ‘aus Uberzeugung’ [through conviction], that naturally made no difference. His father made him promise not to do anything until they had a reply to their Ersuch [request] to the Führer, but so far there has been no reply, and in the meanwhile, of course, he is having what is practically a nervous breakdown. Well, it seems that there are several half-Jews who have … been allowed to remain in the Party on account of special Verdienste [services]. So they hope that he also will, though of course this will anyhow, from his point of view, have ruined his life.

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