Cutest Quotes

Well, if you're a mess then I'm a natural disaster." "The cutest natural disaster I've ever seen.

Kate smirked. "What?" "Your horse looks pink." "So?" "If you paste some stars on her butt you'll be riding My Little Pony." "Bugger off." I patted the mare's neck. "Don't listen to her, Sugar. You are the cutest horsey ever. The correct name for her color is strawberry roan, by the way." "Strawberry Shortcake, more like it. Does Strawberry Shortcake know you stole her horse? She will be berry, berry angry with you." I looked at her from under half-lowered eyelids. "I can shoot you right here, on this road, and nobody will ever find your body.

When Liam stepped forward again, Derek's arm shot around me , a growl vibrating up from his stomach. Liam put his hand out toward me. When Derek tensed he pilled back, then did it again, testing his reaction, laughing when he got one, untill even Ramone started to laugh. "Check this out," Liam said. "I think the pup's got himself a mate. Isn't that the cutest thing?

Kylie watched as his shirttail upward, exposing a very hard abdomen. The hem of his shirt inched higher, and she took in the cutest inny belly button she'd ever seen. And then his chest. Solid. Hard. A few drops of water glistened against his skin. Hear heart beat to the sound of passion again.

When we get out of highschool we'll look back and know we did everything right, that we kissed the cutest boys and went to the best parties, got in just enough trouble, listened to our music too loud, smoked too many cigarettes, and drank too much and laughed too much and listened too little, or not al all.

Jill told me that when you're really in love, you know right away. I'm not exactly sure how this happens. Is it like a flash of lightning? Like an angel tapping you on the shoulder? Or is it similar to choosing a puppy? You think you're picking the cutest one, but really you wind up going home with the one who keeps insisting on climbing into your lap.

My platform's called Don't Even Think About It. I go to schools and I say, 'Whatever bad thing it is you're thinking of doing, don't even think about it. 'Cause I can see into your soul, and I will hide in your closet and come for you in the night, and the last sound you ever hear will be my sharp teeth popping through the flesh of my gums, ready to eat you.' Their eyes get all big. It's awesome. I love little kids, man. They're the cutest

Let’s just say when I was little and my mom was out, I’d go to bed with a ketchup bottle.” “I already love this story so much...” “It was a foolproof plan. If the bad guys came in I could douse myself and they wouldn’t kill me because I was already dead.” “Jesus, I can’t tell if that’s the cutest thing I’ve ever heard or the absolute most sad.

He laces our fingers and shrugs. And I’m dead. I am actually dead. There’s no other way to explain it. I’m sitting in fucking Herald Square, holding hands with the cutest boy I’ve ever met, and I’m dead. I’m the deadest zombie ghost vampire who ever died. And now my mouth isn’t working. It's like I'm stunned into silence. That never happens.

Cade thought about this. “Let me get this straight—you secretly pretend to like poetry to impress the smart girl in your English class, while she’s secretly pretending to like football to impress you.” He paused. “That’s gotta be the cutest fucking thing I’ve ever heard.” “I guess her subconscious finds my subconscious pretty irresistible,” Zach said, all teenage confidence right then. “You were lucky to pull that line off once, Garrity. I wouldn’t push it.

The cutest little girl with big blond curls turned and yelled, “Mommmmmmm! Bearrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrr!

Have you ever seen an alpaca, Cather? They’re like the world’s most adorable llamas. Like, imagine the cutest llama that you can, and then just keep going.

Albert and I would spend hours and hours looking at them. Cleo had this big magnifying glass on his desk, and we'd find centipedes and grasshoppers and beetles and potato bugs, ants . . . and put them in a jar and look at them. They have the sweetest little faces and the cutest expressions. After we'd looked at them all we wanted to, we'd put them in the yard and let them go on about their business.

Before I had kids, I always found it funny how people would talk about their children like they were the cutest things on the planet and how every little thing they did was endlessly fascinating. Now that I've had kids, I can say with certainty that, my children really are the cutest things on this planet and every little thing they do is endlessly fascinating...

Oh, you are the cutest thing I've ever seen," her voice rises a little higher the more excited she gets. Then she looks up straight at Camryn and says with a serious face, "Oh my God, I want one.

It’s the cutest damn laugh I’ve ever heard. Like a tweety bird mated with an evil cartoon villain.

All the cutest girls are bi, didn’t you get the memo?

On the other hand, it's like we're three years old. You don't want that scruffy old teddy bear until your friend takes it and starts having a good time with it. Then suddenly it's the cutest bear you've ever seen, and you want to get it away from her.

In possibly one of the cutest facts you will ever read, sea otters hold each other’s paws whilst they are asleep so they don’t drift apart from each other.

I’ll have to get you excited more often. That was the cutest thing you just did.

Now what?” he finally asked. Téa came to stand in the doorway of her office. “Now what, what? Hey, is that you, Cal?” “Affirmative.” Affirmative? Was that the cutest or what?

She stole a glance at Bobby, who was looking down at a hopscotch grid drawn on the sidewalk. He was so cute, and he didn’t even know it. Somehow that was the cutest thing of all. •   •   •

I haven't come here with you for the sole purpose of making out,” I evade, wondering if she can hear my heart.She scrunches her nose, arches a brow, and meets my gaze dead on with her cutest challenge glare. “Well that's why I've brought you here.

In a cute relationship you will always have cutest fights without any reason

Hmph. A big, bad werewolf just blew me a kiss. That was the sexiest and cutest thing I’d ever seen.

The fact that Tory had given him that little friendship bracelet – which he religiously wore every day without comment – was the cutest damn thing ever.

Jillian had chosen their cutest dresses that made grown woman start talking in abnormally high voices. (“Oh, just look at you! Aren’t you just so cute!” This wouldn’t be so worrisome if it wasn’t the same voice that women used with puppies.)

Indy, to make this clear, I don’t want a single daily update tomorrow!” Stevie announces from the couch. “I’ll text you in the morning with details!”  “I’m getting a new number.” “Aren’t we the cutest family foursome you’ve ever seen?” Zanders pitches in.

Work hard and walk hard. Break your own fancy rules if you have to. Nature only favours the strongest, not the cutest.

Cutest geek i ever saw.

Being liked by everyone is nearly impossible; but there is certainly someone out there for whom you are the cutest, smartest, funniest and most fascinating person they will ever meet...

I opened the box. Inside was the cutest little puppy I’ve ever seen in my life. It was black and furry, with a pointy little snout and bright black eyes and small ears that flopped down.

As children, we start off at the center of our own universe, where we interpret everything that happens from an egocentric vantage point. If our parents or grandparents keep telling us we’re the cutest, most delicious thing in the world, we don’t question their judgment—we must be exactly that. And deep down, no matter what else we learn about ourselves, we will carry that sense with us: that we are basically adorable. As a result, if we later hook up with somebody who treats us badly, we will be outraged. It won’t feel right: It’s not familiar; it’s not like home. But if we are abused or ignored in childhood, or grow up in a family where sexuality is treated with disgust, our inner map contains a different message. Our sense of our self is marked by contempt and humiliation, and we are more likely to think “he (or she) has my number” and fail to protest if we are mistreated.

Stop bein’ such a pussy.” “I’m not a p-pansy,” Aiden stuttered,tripping over the last word. Vulgar terminology didn't exist in his vocabulary. Whenever he tried to push the envelope, he choked in the cutest way possible. “I said pussy,” she emphasized. He went red from the neck up. “I heard you!

What are you saying?” “I want to try.” He wanted clarification on that. “You want to try what?” There it was, that deep flush. “You know.” Yes, he knew, but he wasn’t going to let her off the hook so easily. She was going to be his. For a brief time, she would belong to him and he would have everything he wanted, and he wanted her to start talking dirty. Yes. He wanted to teach her, to train her to accept pleasure so she would expect it. “No, I don’t know. You’ll have to be plain.” Avery blushed a little. “I want to be intimate with you.” So sweet. So polite. So not happening. “That sounds like you want me to get into my pajamas and exchange secrets with you. I’m not your girlfriend, Avery. Tell me what you want. That’s lesson number one. Communication and honesty are the keys to the relationship I want. I need to hear you say plainly what you want.” She hesitated, but only for a moment. He wasn’t surprised. Deep in her heart, she was a brave girl. She’d faced so much and still was open with her heart. Damn, but he didn’t understand that. “I would like for us to sleep together.” “I’m not very sleepy.” He wasn’t going to let her get away with anything. She groaned a little in obvious frustration. “You know that’s not what I’m talking about.” “Yes. I do. So say what you want.” “I want to have sex.” “So clinical. I’ll have to think about that.” “I want to make love.” “Sweet, but not what I’m looking for.” Her face crinkled into the cutest pout. “Damn it, Lee. I want to fuck.” Just like that he was primed and ready. She’d said fuck with such a sweet little heat, her eyebrows forming a V over her face as though the entire incident had offended her polite sensibilities. She would learn there wasn’t room for politeness between them. He growled just a little. “I want to fuck, too, baby. I want to fuck all night long.

After three weeks in this environment, Sally was probably doing the cutest curtsies in the history of Western Civilization. By this time the Palace staff was probably fighting for the right to look after her. Sally was a true daddy’s girl. The ability to manipulate the people around her came easily. She’d practiced on her father for years.

Yet Trump has managed to convince his legions that making vile comments about someone is a revolutionary act, a badge of honor and a long-overdue tipping of society's scales back toward reason and truth. Sometimes he's right, but so is the proverbial stopped watch.

cutest guy I ever drooled over.

She had the cutest little upturned nose and big almond shaped glittery green eyes

All you had to do was flip through a couple of titles in the cozy-mystery section to know that evil lurked in the cutest, quaintest corners of the universe.

In the struggle for survival, the cutest win out at the expense of the less cute because they appeal more to celebrities and, through them, to a live television audience.

Happiness is the cutest emotion I flaunt with pride

Or there's peer tutoring. Oh my god. I'm tutoring the cutest little second grader right now. I totally taught her how to stay within the lines with her eyeshadow.

If the Baudelaire orphans had been stalks of celery, they would not have been small children in great distress, and if they had been lucky, Carmelita Spats would have not approached their table at this particular moment and delivered another unfortunate message. "Hello, you cakesniffers," she said, "although judging from the baby brat you're more like saladsniffers. I have another message for you from Coach Genghis. I get to be his Special Messenger because I'm the cutest, prettiest, nicest little girl in the whole school." "If you were really the nicest person in the whole school," Isadora said, "you wouldn't make fun of a sleeping infant. But never mind, what is the message?" "It's actually the same as last time," Carmelita said, "but I'll repeat it in case you're too stupid to remember. The three Baudelaire orphans are to report to the front lawn tonight, immediately after dinner." "What?" Klaus asked. "Are you deaf as well as cakesniffy?" Carmelita asked.

Billy Bob, as though he were in pain, doubled up on the bed like a jackknife; but his face was suddenly clear, his grubby boy-eyes twitching like candles. She’s so cute, he whispered, she’s the cutest dickens I ever saw, gee, to hell with it, I don’t care, I’d pick all the roses in China. Preacher would have picked all the roses in China, too. He was as crazy about her as Billy Bob. But Miss Bobbit did not notice them.

Then he reached down to tap her own ear in return, earning him the cutest, sweetest little giggle. They were going to make me throw up. “If you change your mind, just let me know,” I pretty much mumbled. He was still a fucker.

Cats, of course, are easier to make fun of. The cutest cat is still a freak. Where
dogs are sympathetic, almost tragic, figures, cats are pure comedy. Dogs are your
buddies, cats are entertainment They're like a TV show. There's nothing funnier than when a cat falls off of something. When a dog falls down a couple of stairs, you rush to it and console it. But when a cat does it, it's funny—you point at it and laugh (which they don't like, incidentally).

Staring down at my wrist, I can’t believe what I’m looking at. This adorably sweet and sexy man has just placed a very colorful linked bracelet of the cutest Pac-Man on my wrist. It has a yellow Pac-Man with the blue, red, pink, and orange monsters on it. “I love it!” I manage as I swallow back my tears of joy. I throw myself around him and say, “Thank you.” He lifts me up and twirls me just once before setting me down. “Happy?” Smiling up at him, I respond, “More than happy.

My arms were currently wrapped around Molder who’d, of course, accompanied me to the police station via a laughing Downy. The man thought it was hilarious that I ‘didn’t obey Foster.’ His words, not mine. I just glared and refused to talk to him either. I did think it was the cutest thing in the world

Cats are everywhere online. They make the memiest memes and the cutest videos. Why cats more than dogs?1 Dogs didn’t come to ancient humans begging to live with us; we domesticated them.2 They’ve been bred to be obedient. They take to training and they are predictable. They work for us. That’s not to say anything against dogs.3 It’s great that they’re loyal and dependable. Cats are different. They came along and partly domesticated themselves. They are not predictable. Popular dog videos tend to show off training, while the most wildly popular cat videos are the ones that capture weird and surprising behaviors.

I'm going to kill her." "Any particular reason you're plotting her murder?" "She's eating everyone's food, including mine! She ate my cheesecake and my goddamn yogurt!" I gestured wildly, flinging my hands into the air. "Do you know why she's doing this? She thought people were being totes adorbs and naming the food." "Leslie didn't realize the names on food meant it belonged to someone?" "Today, she enjoyed a turkey sandwich named Gary. And a yogurt and piece of motherfucking cheesecake named Georgia. She thought it was like, the cutest thing ever how her coworkers were naming food. She's too dumb to live. Literally.

Oh, aren’t you the cutest? Yes, you are! You’re the sweetest thing since cotton candy,” Nan was saying. The pups yipped and crawled over each other in an attempt to lick the glass window where her hand rested. Before long, a cute red-haired employee named Greg, spotted Nan’s interest and offered to bring the puppies to the viewing pen.

That’s really sweet,” she said, with a smile. I frowned at her offensive words. “I’m not sweet,” I whispered sternly. Rihanna’s smile broadened, and her obsidian eyes sparkled. She leaned forward to whisper to me. “Yes, I think you’re very sweet, on top of being fluffy, and having the cutest ears.” I glared at her, annoyed beyond words.

Did I hit it?” Beside her, Jesse fought a grin. “It must’ve jumped again.” “No!” She’d fired three times and had yet to graze the target. She restrained the childish urge to stamp her foot. “Next time,” Jesse suggested, “try keeping your eyes open.” “Did I shut them again?” “Squinched tight with your nose wrinkled up. Cutest thing I ever saw.

The first time she wore her gi she also mistakenly wore her lucky Valentine's Day panties that showed through where she sweated like a boiled lobster in gauze. And last week in the turtle tot class where she loves to volunteer she bopped one of the cutest tots on the noggin with a foam noodle to get his guards up and he responded by throwing up on her feet. So there were setbacks.

But back then I was inarguably gawky, and because I knew it would be laughable for me to profess my love for the cutest, most popular boys at my school, I chose to act as though I couldn’t care less about them. That I was above such nonsense. In truth they intimidated me, because they had the power to disappoint and humiliate me, and confirm everything I feared about my own awkwardness.

It wasn’t until she stopped that I noticed the big white cardboard box they had brought in with them. “What is that?” I said. “Open it,” said Dad, smiling, and he and Mom looked at each other like they knew a secret. “Come on, Auggie!” said Via. I opened the box. Inside was the cutest little puppy I’ve ever seen in my life. It was black and furry, with a pointy little snout and bright black eyes and small ears that flopped down.

I hadn't told him the news yet, but in that same preternatural way he was always aware of what I was feeling or thinking, he could smell my lies a mile away. He was just giving me time to come to him. To tell him I'd be baking his bun for the next seven and a half months. ''I'm okay." Dex's chuckle filled my ears as he wrapped his arms around my chest from behind, his chin resting on the top of my head. "Just okay?" He was taunting me, I knew it. This man never did anything without a reason. And this reason had him resembling a mama bear. A really aggressive, possessive mama bear. Which said something because Dex was normally that way. I couldn't even sit around Mayhem without him or Sonny within ten feet. I leaned my head back against his chest and laughed. "Yeah, just okay." He made a humming noise deep in his throat. "Ritz," he drawled in that low voice that reached the darkest parts of my organs. "You're killin' me, honey." Oh boy. Did I want to officially break the news on the side of the road with chunks of puke possibly still on my face? Nah. So I went with the truth. "I have it all planned out in my head. I already ordered the cutest little toy motorcycle to tell you, so don't ruin it." A loud laugh burst out of his chest, so strong it rocked my body alongside his. I friggin' loved this guy. Every single time he laughed, I swear it multiplied. At this rate, I loved him more than my own life cubed, and then cubed again. "All right," he murmured between these low chuckles once he'd calmed down a bit. His fingers trailed over the skin of the back of my hand until he stopped at my ring finger and squeezed the slender bone. "I can be patient." That earned him a laugh from me. Patience? Dex? Even after more than three years, that would still never be a term I'd use to describe him. And it probably never would. He'd started to lose his shit during our layover when Trip had called for instructions on how to set the alarm at the new bar. "Dex, Ris, and Baby Locke, you done?" Sonny yelled, peeping out from over the top of the car door. "Are you friggin' kidding me?" I yelled back. Did everyone know? That slow, seductive smile crawled over his features. Brilliant and more affectionate than it was possible for me to handle, it sucked the breath out of me. When he palmed my cheeks and kissed each of my cheeks and nose and forehead, slowly like he was savoring the pecks and the contact, I ate it all up. Like always, and just like I always would. And he answered the way I knew he would every single time I asked him from them on, the way that told me he would never let me down. That he was an immovable object. That he'd always be there for me to battle the demons we could see and the invisible ones we couldn't. "Fuckin' love you, Iris," he breathed against my ear, an arm slinking around my lower back to press us together. "More than anything.

Are you two dating now?” “Yup,” I say with finality. “We’re a couple, so I’m sorry to inform you but your title of cutest couple is about to be stolen.” “You think we’re cuter than Milly and Carson?” Emory asks. “Of course. No competition. Milly is gorgeous but Carson is bringing down the team. I surpass them without even having a girlfriend, hell, if I were coupled up with my nightstand, I’d be a better couple.” “I’ll be sure to spread the news on to Carson.” Knox laughs to himself. “Not the best idea, you know how sensitive he is.” “I think you’re referring to yourself,” Knox points out. I chuckle. “True, I’m very sensitive and if he finds out and comes after my ass, I won’t recover easily, which means I’ll be over here at your place, begging you to nurse me back to health so my lady friend doesn’t have to see me in such a weak state.” Knox scratches the side of his jaw and says, “Have I ever told you how much I really don’t like you?” “Almost every day.” I wink at him.

Looks like things are about to get interesting here in sparkle town,” Ro said as Fitz held the vial to Sophie’s lips. “Why’s that?” Fitz wondered, blocking Sophie from snatching the vial away. “Because now you can help me write The Ballad of Bo and Ro!” Keefe jumped in. “Did Foster tell you how much they loooooooooooooooooove each other? Step aside, Sandor and Grizel—Bo and Ro are vying for cutest bodyguard couple. And their names rhyme!” “Keep it up,” Ro said, sharpening one of her claws. “I’m going to make you pay for every single joke.

I’m just saying, I’m pretty positive that you and Fitzy could solve this thing in five minutes if you went all Cognate—RAWR on Forkle’s memories. You’ve broken through his blocking before.” “Yeah, but I’m sure he has other defenses he’d start using once he figured out what we were trying to do.” “And that’s why you do it when he’s asleep.” Sophie frowned. “We don’t know where he lives—and even if we did, I’m sure he has all kinds of security and…” Her voice trailed off as Keefe exchanged a look with Ro that seemed to say, Isn’t our moonlark the cutest?

She takes my breath away, just like she did that very first day years ago. I’d just turned fifteen, I was leaving for my first year at boarding school. I thought I was happy to go, and instead it turned into the longest year of my life. I lean against the open elevator doors, holding them apart. “Hey, gorgeous.” Her pillow lips part in a smile, amber eyes crinkling at the corners. “Hey, handsome.” The tip of her pink tongue touches perfectly white teeth, and the cutest dimple appears at the top of her cheek. Reaching out, I catch her upper arms, pulling her against my chest.

After school, Peter and I are lying on the couch; his feet are hanging off the end. He’s still in his costume, but I’ve changed into my regular clothes. “You always have the cutest socks,” he says, lifting up my right foot. These ones are gray with white polka dots and yellow bear faces. Proudly I say, “My great-aunt sends them from Korea. Korea has the cutest stuff, you know.” “Can you ask her to send me some too? Not bears, but maybe, like, tigers. Tigers are cool.” “Your feet are too big for socks as cute as these. Your toes would pop right out. You know what, I bet I could find you some socks that fit at…um, the zoo.” Peter sits up and starts tickling me. I gasp out, “I bet the--pandas or gorillas have to--keep their feet warm somehow…in the winter. Maybe they have some kind of deodorized sock technology as well.” I burst into giggles. “Stop…stop tickling me!” “Then stop being mean about my feet!” I’ve got my hand burrowed under his arm, and I am tickling him ferociously. But by doing so, I have opened myself up to more attacks. I yell, “Okay, okay, truce!” He stops, and I pretend to stop, but sneak a tickle under his arm, and he lets out a high-pitched un-Peter-like shriek. “You said truce!” he accuses. We both nod and lie back down, out of breath. “Do you really think my feet smell?” I don’t. I love the way he smells after a lacrosse game--like sweat and grass and him. But I love to tease, to see that unsure look cross his face for just half a beat. “Well, I mean, on game days…” I say. Then Peter attacks me again, and we’re wrestling around, laughing, when Kitty walks in, balancing a tray with a cheese sandwich and a glass of orange juice. “Take it upstairs,” she says, sitting down on the floor. “This is a public area.

Or we could ask Grizel,” Biana suggested. She clearly meant it as a joke, but it was too close to the truth—and Sandor’s red-flushed cheeks gave him away. “You and Grizel?” Biana squealed. “Aaaah—that’s the cutest thing ever! How long have you been together?” “Since the attack at Havenfield,” Sophie said when Sandor was too busy scowling. Keefe reeled on her. “YOU KNEW GIGANTOR HAD A GIRLFRIEND AND YOU DIDN’T TELL ME?” “I think Sandor’s ready for us to change the subject,” Della noted. “Indeed, I’ve never seen a goblin blush,” Lady Cadence said, with a bigger smile than Sophie had ever seen her have.

I don’t know,” Keefe jumped in. “We like Gigantor, here, and he’s pretty funny-looking.” Sandor rolled his eyes. “Ask any of my people, and you’ll find no complaints about my appearance.” “Or we could ask Grizel,” Biana suggested. She clearly meant it as a joke, but it was too close to the truth—and Sandor’s red-flushed cheeks gave him away. “You and Grizel?” Biana squealed. “Aaaah—that’s the cutest thing ever! How long have you been together?” “Since the attack at Havenfield,” Sophie said when Sandor was too busy scowling. Keefe reeled on her. “YOU KNEW GIGANTOR HAD A GIRLFRIEND AND YOU DIDN’T TELL ME?

The internet’s prime purpose is to facilitate uniformity of thought (always a good starting point for the bluffer when discussing social media). The rules for what you’re allowed to think online change all the time, but they’re usually something like this: 1. Julian Assange is the victim of a CIA and media conspiracy aimed at causing his eventual death. 2. Rupert Murdoch is Satan. 3. You are compelled to say RIP about the death of strangers. 4. You are not allowed to offend anyone, ever. 5. Anything someone else says can be taken as offensive. 6. Being offensive is illegal. 7. Cats do the cutest things.

Then his mate rolled her eyes and tossed her hair behind her shoulders. “I swear boys never grow up, no matter how hard they try.” The girls in the group laughed at that, and Bay joined them. Adam cleared his throat but didn’t tug Bay close like he’d like to. He had to show that they were strong on their own as well as together while they were training. “That’s a bit sexist, don’t you think?” he teased. Bay narrowed her eyes a bit more then winked. “Don’t get me started on sexism in a werewolf Pack, oh mate of mine. I’ll let you off the hook because you happen to be holding the cutest baby in the world.

Lisa In 1977, when I was in sixth grade at Pinecrest Elementary School in my hometown of West Monroe, Louisiana, I saw the cutest boy I had ever laid eyes on. He was new to our school, and I quickly found out his name was Alan Robertson. I was popular in school and people seemed to like me, but no matter how I tried, that cute boy did not seem to know I was alive. Maybe that’s because he was in eighth grade and did not have time for younger girls like me. That did not stop me from following him around school, though--during every recess, fire drill, and class change. Sometimes when I speak publicly about this now, I say I could have been on fire and he would not have noticed. At least that’s what I thought; he says he was vaguely aware that he had a sixth-grade stalker with braces.

Daughter One word but for us it's our entire world the happiest moment of life, when you came I remember the day when we gave you name I heard the word Blessing of God realized, what it is at the time when you were sent to us by God he created you in his special way Puffy cheeks, cute hands, the cutest thing it's your little anger on your sweet Nose and the miracle is, your so innocent eyes but if you know, you are so naughty when with the brother you fight your forehead where God has written all our happiness you are the light in our darkness Your smile is a perfect medicine on wounds Which gives deep relax to heart without a sound Your voice is the best music which echoes in our home in form of a daughter you are the shadow of God in our home We are fortunate we have you I kiss your forehead and wish you my life too Someday if you ask me what is the meaning of happiness to me I will say just one line O Daughter happiness mean to me it's just you, it's just you.

Korie: I met Willie for the first time when we were in the third grade at Camp Ch-Yo-Ca, the camp I grew up at. Willie and Jase went to my session of the camp, and Alan came for high school week. Kay was cooking in the kitchen that summer, so her boys could attend the camp for free. I remember thinking Willie was the cutest thing I had ever seen and was so funny. We called him by his middle name, Jess, at the time. He had these big dimples and the cutest sideways smile. I had a diary that I never really wrote in, but that summer, I wrote: “I met a boy at summer camp and he was so cute. He asked me on the moonlight hike and I said ‘yes’!” I even wrote “Korie Loves Jess” on the bunk of the cabin I was staying in that summer. Yes, Willie asked me to go on the moonlight hike with him. It was always a big deal every summer figuring out which boy was going to ask you to accompany him on the moonlight hike, and I was thrilled when he asked me! Willie was definitely my first crush.

A text comes from Wallace. An actual text too, not a message through the forum app. I gave him my number awhile back, before Halloween, but not because I wanted him to call me or anything. I wrote it on the edge of our conversation paper in homeroom and slid it over to him because sometimes I see something and think, Wallace would laugh at that, I should send him a picture of it, but the messaging app is terrible with pictures and texting is way better. So he texts me now, and it’s a picture. A regular sweet potato pie. Beneath the picture, he says, I really like sweet potato pie. I text back, Yeah, so do I. Then he sends me a picture of his face, frowning, and says, No, you don’t understand. Then another picture, closer, just his eyes. I REALLY like sweet potato pie. A series of pictures comes in several-second intervals. The first is a triangular slice of pie in Wallace’s hand. Then Wallace holding that slice up to his face—it’s soft enough to start collapsing between his fingers. The next one has him stuffing the slice into his mouth, and in the final one it’s all the way in, his cheeks are puffed out like a chipmunk’s, and he’s letting his eyes roll back like it’s the best thing he’s ever eaten. I purse my lips to keep my laugh in, but my parents are fine-tuned to the slightest hint of amusement from me, and they both look up. “What’s so funny, Eggs?” Dad says. “Nothing,” I reply. Nothing makes a joke less funny than someone wanting in on it, especially parents. Wow, I say to Wallace. You really like sweet potato pie. He sends one more picture, this one with him embracing the pie pan, gazing lovingly at it. We’re to be married in the spring. An actual laugh escapes me. I really hope Wallace is having a better Thanksgiving than I am. It seems like he is. I take a picture of myself pouting and send it to him, saying, Aw, the cutest of cute couples. ... Another picture from Wallace waits for me. In this one, an empty pie pan littered withcrumbs sits on the floor beside a large knife. Wallace kneels next to it with morecrumbs on his sweater, expression horrified. NOOOO WHAT HAVE I DONE MY LOVE OUR MARRIAGE ’TIS ALL FOR NAUGHT I text back: Oh no!! Not sweet potato bride! Another picture comes: Wallace sprawled on the floor beside the pie pan, one arm thrown over his eyes. Let me only be accused of loving her too much. Wallace is definitely having a better Thanksgiving than me.

You boys need anything else?” Nick started. The older waitress was there beside the table. He hadn’t heard her approach. Worse—he hadn’t felt her approach. Would she say something? He should probably start disentangling himself from Adam. His voice wouldn’t work and his face felt like his cheeks were going to burn clean off. “No, thanks,” Adam said. He sounded amused. She ripped a piece of paper from her pad and set it on the table. “You two are just the cutest ever.” Nick froze. She didn’t care. They’d been head to head at this table, and she hadn’t batted an eye. Adam winked at her. “Sounds like someone’s looking for a tip.” “Here’s a tip,” she said. “Don’t flirt with old married ladies when you’ve got a sure thing in your arms.” “Am I the sure thing in this scenario?” said Nick. “I don’t know,” Adam said. “Are you?” The waitress laughed and left them with the check. “She didn’t care,” said Nick softly. “I know it’s stupid, but I thought—” “What, that people would come out with pitchforks? Flaming torches?” “Maybe.” Adam kissed him on the cheek. “You’re adorable. People surprise you sometimes. Especially when you give them the chance.” The words hit Nick hard, the way words you need to hear usually do. He held them in his head for examination later. When they walked back to Adam’s apartment, he reached out to hold the other boy’s hand. And Nick didn’t care one bit who saw.

Galveston?” he asked in that amazing voice, still surprising me by keeping our conversation going. “Yeah. Staying at a beach house and everything. Totally slumming it and having a miserable time, you know?” I gave him a real smile that time. Rip just raised his brows. “I promised her I would go visit, and she promised she would come up too... What’s that face for?” I surprised myself by laughing. “I don’t believe it either. I’ll get lucky if she comes once. I’m not that delusional.” I didn’t imagine the way his cheek twitched again, just a little, just enough to keep the smile on my face. “I’m stuck making my own lunches from now on. I have nobody to watch scary movies with who’s more dramatic than I am screaming at the scary parts. And my house is empty,” I told him, going on a roll. “Your lunches?” was what he picked up on. I wasn’t sure how much he’d had to drink that he was asking me so many questions, but I wasn’t going to complain. “I can’t cook to save my life, boss. I thought everyone knew. Baking is the only thing I can handle.” “You serious?” he asked in a surprised tone. I nodded. “For real?” “Yeah,” I confirmed. “I can’t even make rice in an Instant Pot. It’s either way too dry or it’s mush.” Oh. “An Instant Pot is—” “I know what it is,” he cut me off. It was my turn to make a face, but mine was an impressed one. He knew what an Instant Pot was but not a rom-com. Okay. “Sorry.” He didn’t react to me trying to tease him, instead he asked, “You can’t even make rice in that?” “Nope.” “You know there’s instructions online.” Was he messing with me now? I couldn’t help but watch him a little. How much had he drunk already? “Yeah, I know.” “And you still screw it up?” I blinked, soaking up Chatty Cathy over here like a plant that hadn’t seen the sun in too long. “I wouldn’t say I screw it up. It’s more like… you either need to chew a little more or a little less.” It was his turn to blink. “It’s a surprise. I like to keep people on their toes.” If I hadn’t been guessing that he’d had a couple drinks before, what he did next would have confirmed it. His left cheek twitched. Then his right one did too, and in the single blink of an eye, Lucas Ripley was smiling at me. Straight white teeth. That not-thin but not-full mouth dark pink and pulled up at the edges. He even had a dimple. Rip had a freaking dimple. And I wanted to touch it to make sure it was real. I couldn’t help but think it was just about the cutest thing I had ever seen, even though I had zero business thinking anything along those lines. But I was smart enough to know that I couldn’t say a single word to mention it; otherwise, it might never come out again. What I did trust myself to do was gulp down half of my Sprite before saying, “You can make rice, I’m guessing?” If he wanted to talk, we could talk. I was good at talking. “Uh-huh,” he replied, sounding almost cocky about it. All I could get myself to do in response was grin at him, and for another five seconds, his dimple—and his smile—responded to me.

Whoooa! Red! Green! Yellow! Brown! Purple! Even black! Look at all those bowls full of brilliantly colored batter!" She used strawberries, blueberries, matcha powder, cocoa powder, black sesame and other natural ingredients to dye those batters. They look like a glittering array of paints on an artist's palette! "Now that all my yummy edible paints are ready... ...it's picture-drawing time!" "She twisted a sheet of parchment paper into a piping bag and is using it to draw all kinds of cute pictures!" "You're kidding me! Look at them all! How did she get that fast?!" Not only that, most chefs do rough sketches first, but she's doing it off the cuff! How much artistic talent and practice does she have?! "All these cutie-pies go into the oven for about three minutes. After that I'll take them out and pour the brown sugar batter on top..." "It appears she's making a roll cake if she's pouring batter into that flat a pan." "Aah, I see. It must be one of those patterned roll cakes you often see at Japanese bakeries. That seems like an unusually plain choice, considering the fanciful tarts she made earlier." "The decorations just have to be super-cute, too." "OOOH! She's candy sculpting!" "So pretty and shiny!" That technique she's using- that's Sucre Tiré (Pulled Sugar)! Of all the candy-sculpting arts, Sucre Tiré gives the candy a glossy, nearly glass-like luster... but keeping the candy at just the right temperature so that it remains malleable while stretching it to a uniform thickness is incredibly difficult! Every step is both delicate and exceptionally difficult, yet she makes each one look easy! She flows from one cutest technique to the next, giving each an adorable flair! Just like she insisted her apple tarts had to be served in a pretty and fantastical manner... ... she's even including cutesy performances in the preparation of this dish!

So you hook up with strangers?" Liam asked in a hushed whisper as the cashier rang up their order. "Were you with someone last night?" "Yes. His name is Max." She pulled out her phone. "I have a selfie of us together." She held it up for the cashier to see, keeping the screen away from Liam's line of vision. "Oh, he's gorgeous," the cashier said. "He's got the nicest eyes." "Let me see." Liam felt his protective instincts rise. "Who is he? Max who?" "He doesn't have a last name." "Jesus Christ, Daisy," he spluttered. "Does Sanjay know you do this? What about your dad?" "They know all about Max," Daisy said. "In fact, my dad took a picture of us cuddled together in bed the night before he left on his trip, and the cutest one of Max on my pillow. I bought some pajamas but he refused to wear them. He likes to sleep au naturel." Bile rose in Liam's throat. "And your dad took... pictures?" "Photography is his new hobby. He took some great shots when I was giving Max a bath..." "Stop." Liam held up a hand. "Just... I can't. I don't know what's happened to you, but it ends now. We're engaged and that means no more random hookups, no pornographic pictures, and no flashing pictures of strangers in the nude." "Amina doesn't mind. She's my second cousin." Daisy introduced them before turning her phone around. "And this is Max." Liam was a heartbeat away from shutting his eyes when his brain registered the picture of a fluffy white dog on a pink duvet. His tension left him in a rush. "Max is a dog." "He's a Westie. Layla got him for me as an emotional support dog at a bad time in my life." Liam bit back the urge to ask Daisy about a time so bad she'd needed extra love. It was her business, and he could only hope she would tell him when she was ready so he could offer his support. "That wasn't funny." "Amina and I were amused." "I heard you were engaged." Amina's gaze flicked to Liam and she blushed. "He's almost as cute as Max.

So does it mean he likes me or just likes me?” I blurt out, knowing that it sounds ridiculous as soon I hear the words come out of my mouth. It takes me back to when we were young girls and I used to pass her handwritten notes in class, asking if she thought the cutest boy in our school liked me.

Connecticut’s Beardsley Zoo

Never has a man been so obsessed with his own nipples as Ben Affleck.

you can beat those rock-bottom Black Friday prices by taking up the profitable hobby of shoplifting.

The only good thing in life is mystery. It keeps us pegging at information and makes us inquisitive. Mystery is a genre that appeals to everyone. Mystery is the essence of everything unknown and undefined. The way mystery can surge your adrenalin, not even the cutest face can. Mystery is everything you see, everything you feel. Mystery is the summation of everything. Oh! What is life without mystery!!!

Deal. Watch my six.”   “I want you to know that this is seriously the hottest date I’ve ever been on,” said Ghost against her lips. “Afterwards, how about we make it a perfect day and you sit on my lap in your cutest undies while I clean my guns?”   Bridget laughed and kissed him again. “I think we can make that happen.”   “Fuck yes.

Darwin never mentioned survival of the cutest, but it is a reality on a planet dominated by mankind.

Aren’t you the cutest?” She leaned in and gave him a kiss on the lips. Red. All I saw was red.

Jim Valvano and North Carolina State actually came close to beating Dean Smith and North Carolina both times the two teams faced each other during the regular season in 1980–81. Carolina won a pair of three-point games, but—naturally—that wasn’t the way Valvano told the story in the years that followed. The way Valvano told it, Carolina won both games in blowouts. He counted on the fact that most of his listeners wouldn’t remember the two games. “So, the second time we get blown out, an old State alumnus comes up to me and he says, ‘Coach, I know you’re a Yankee and you don’t understand about tradition down here, but we cannot be losing to the Tar Heels this way.’ “I say to him, ‘No, I do get it. I know all about the tradition down here and I promise you, next season we’re going to do a lot better against them.’ “He shakes his head and says, ‘Coach, you just don’t get it. If you lose to the Tar Heels here in Reynolds [Coliseum] next season, we’re going to kill your dog.’ “Okay, I’m just a little nervous now because the guy isn’t smiling even a little bit. But I say to him, ‘Look, I have to tell you, I don’t have a dog, but I hear you loud and clear.’ “He just nods and walks away. Next morning I go to the front door to get my newspaper, and when I open the door there’s a basket on my front step. I look under the blanket and there’s the cutest little puppy you’ve ever seen in your life. There’s a note attached to the puppy’s collar. It says, ‘Don’t get too attached.’ ” The story illustrated the intensity of the Triangle rivalries among N.C. State, North Carolina, and Duke.

Great video is a communication tool of unparalleled impact. It can change history, inspire movements, share and amplify emotions, and build community. Bad video gets turned off. Nobody watches bad video. Not your employees, even if you tell them to. Not your parents, even if you send them “the cutest” videos of your kids. Faced with

Nothing like having the cutest little girl on earth inadvertently guilt a man.

When she saw it was Ian, a little jolt went through her system. She wished that would stop happening. When he’d called earlier in the week to ask if she could watch Jacob today, her heart had jumped as if she were a teenager hearing from the cutest boy in class. After the call had ended, she’d found herself singing “I Feel Pretty” from West Side Story.

I woke to sounds coming from Bella’s bedroom. After the shocking revelations the night before and the lack of sleep, it didn’t register that it could be Ty. I entered the doorway and froze as I saw him bent over the changing table, singing to Bella, while changing her diaper. You are my sunshine, my only sunshine…you make me happy, when skies are gray….. I folded my arms across my chest and smiled from cheek to cheek. It was the cutest thing I had ever seen.“Again, I have to ask…who are you and what have you done with my cousin?” He picked up Bella and turned to face me. His grin was huge. Bella grabbed a chunk of his shabby hair and got his attention. “Ouch, gentle Iz!

It just so happens that 9-1-1 is not one of those types of services… Operator: 9-1-1 do you need fire, medical, or police? Caller: No, ma’am I don’t. I don’t have an emergency, two police officers were at my house just now, can I get their names please? Operator: What was it? Caller: To get the music turned down… he’s the cutest cop I’ve seen in God knows how long. I just wanna know his name. Doesn’t come very often a good looking man comes at your doorstep. Could you send him back my way? Operator: You need us to come back there? Caller: Oh! I’d like that, yeah! Operator: Why do you need us to come back there? Caller: Uhm, because I have an emergency. I’ll, I’ll think of something. He’s cute. Would you send them back, I think they are partners, send them back my way, would you?

In possibly one of the cutest facts you will ever read, sea otters hold each other’s paws whilst they are asleep so they don’t drift apart from each

I was a busy child and never grew out of it, so I was moving fast as usual when I passed Jep that day on my way out of Connie Sue’s salon. But not too fast to notice his thick dark hair, cut just above his ears and brushed back, with sexy Elvis chops on the sides. He had deep green eyes, a strong jaw, and a small, dark soul patch under his bottom lip that stood out against his tanned skin. Our eyes locked, and I was mesmerized. His steps slowed, and he tilted his head down a little, smiled a sweet smile, and said, “Hey.” Did I mention the dimples? He had the cutest dimples I’d ever seen. My heart seriously skipped a beat, although I tried not to let it show. (I always tell him he had me at “hey,” and that’s no joke.) “Hey,” I said back. I wish I could tell you I said something original and witty, but that’s all I could come up with. A nod and a “hey.” Then he was gone. Who is he? Jep was twenty-two, I was twenty, and somehow we’d grown up in the same town and never met each other. And even though we were young, we both already had complicated lives. We had experienced pain, guilt, betrayal, and brokenness. But in that moment, none of it mattered. Not one bit.

Excuse me?" Annie's voice rises, which is unusual for her. She's the queen of avoiding conflict, and I'm not a fan of it either, which means that the one and only serious argument we've ever been in happened in the fourth grade when she insisted that Howie was the cutest Backstreet Boy (a statement that was categorically false).

Animals President Theodore Roosevelt (after whom the Teddy Bear is named) was particularly fond of animals, having five guinea pigs called Dr. Johnson, Bishop Doane, Fighting Bob Evans, Admiral Dewey, and Father O’Grady. He also owned a small bear called Jonathan Edwards, a lizard by the name of Bill, Baron Spreckle (a hen), a badger called Josiah, Eli Yale the parrot and - brilliantly - a snake known to his family as Emily Spinach. In its lifetime, an albatross is believed to fly around fifteen million miles. To put that into perspective, it is the same as flying half way to Mars when it is at its closest distance to the Earth. In possibly one of the cutest facts you will ever read, sea otters hold each other’s paws whilst they are asleep so they don’t drift apart from each other. Elephant shrews are more closely related to elephants than they are shrews. Some ribbon worms will eat themselves if they can’t find anything else to eat. Amazingly, they can consume up to 95% of their own bodyweight and still survive.

cutest thing you ever saw. The alleged mother fell out of the ugly tree and hit every branch. I

She snuck in another stroke. “Was it a just-because? I love just-because presents the best. Last month McNab gave me the cutest pair of earrings—like chains of hearts—just because. You know a guy’s stuck on you if he springs for just-because jewelry of any kind.

The image simply did not compute. I’d never pictured myself with children. My sister Rachel had two of the cutest girls in the world, and I’d give my life for them. My older sister, Margaret, always talked about marriage and having a family one day, and I could picture her sitting cross-legged on the floor, finger-painting with a half-dozen redheaded children. Both my sisters grew up assuming motherhood would be a part of their lives. But for me babies hadn’t been in the master plan.

I can tell Nate’s mulling over each of my words. Then he wrinkles his nose, which is, by the way, the cutest thing ever, and says, “Soft kissing. Building the intensity as it goes.” Duly noted.

He is just the cutest thing,” Aunt Ellie says after Joanie tugs Luke out of the kitchen. “With those curls and dimples….If I was 20 years younger, I’d pounce on him.

mean ironic,” I said. Yeah, I just corrected the cutest boy in school. I figured if he didn’t mind me

They didn’t call me the Executioner for nothing. So how did I end up being safer in the depths of the Circus of the Damned with the monsters than above ground with the humans? Because somewhere along the line, I didn’t kill the monster I should have. That particular monster was gliding up the hallway ahead of me. And he still had the cutest butt I’d ever seen on a dead man.