English Bulldogs Quotes

Do you realise that about two hundred of Twing's heftiest are waiting for you outside to chuck you into the pond?" "No!" "Absolutely!" For a moment the poor chap seemed crushed. But only for a moment. There has always been something of the good old English bulldog breed about Bingo. A strange, sweet smile flickered for an instant over his face. "It's all right," he said. "I can sneak out through the cellar and climb over the wall at the back. They can't intimidate me!

We’ve clearly placed form over function when it comes to choosing dogs for the home. Maybe this is because we are such a visual species ourselves, but I think it’s a shame, and some breeds are being ruined because of this tendency to stress how they look over what they can do. Bulldogs, more commonly known as English bulldogs, are a prime example of this overemphasis on physical appearance, particularly within so-called purebred dogs. Among the laundry list of physical ailments that English bulldogs suffer from—eye and ear problems, skin infections, respiratory ailments, immune system and neurological disorders, and problems with moving, eating/digesting, copulating, and bearing puppies—many are attributable to breeding practices to produce dogs with what are considered desirable physical traits.

All I have to do is just look into a dog’s eyes. The eyes of a Saint Bernard, an English mastiff, a shar-pei, a Jack Russell terrier, a French bulldog, a corgi, a pug. A lot of the time I think all you have to do is look into any dog’s eyes, and there’ll you’ll find honesty; there, I think so much of the time, you’ll find the truth.

Lambiase is recently divorced. He had married his high school sweetheart, so it took him a long time to realize that she was not, in fact, a sweetheart or a very nice person at all. In arguments, she was fond of calling him stupid and fat. He is not stupid, by the way, though he is neither well read nor well traveled. He is not fat, though he is built like a bulldog—thick-muscled neck, short legs, broad, flat nose. A sturdy American bulldog, not an English one. Lambiase does not miss his wife, though he does miss having somewhere to go after work.

For every Egyptian of my generation, this will be the greatest political event of their lives, the drama they return to and repeat to their children and to their children's children to explain the world they are born into. I missed it entirely. Watched the revolution on television from the comfort of my home on the Upper West Side, a French bulldog on my lap. How convenient, then, when all is said and done, to arrive in the reckless aftermath, claiming, Me too, I am one of you. I'm too late returning and he knows it. As long as we are outside, on the streets in this city that he owns, he leverages his knowledge against me.

I vaguely remember having a waist,” Lark said, waddling into the room. “I could see my feet too. They weren’t great feet, but I liked looking at them.” “You’ll see them soon then you won’t appreciate it. All the stuff that bothers you now will become a faint memory once you have the babies.” “How do you know?” she said, teasing me. “You read that in a book? I get enough know-it-all crap from Raven who watched a TV show and is therefore an expert.” I brought her a glass of low fat milk and English muffins with low fat cream. Lark frowned at the food then smiled up at me. “If I sound bitchy, blame the hormones. You didn’t know me before I was preggers, but I was a saint.” Grinning, I handed her the remote and placed a pillow under her feet.

It is far better for a man to go wrong in freedom than to go right in chains. (Thomas H. Huxley, English biologist; known as "Darwin's Bulldog

plate of cookies too." Will is bellowing from the living room. His butt has been welded to that chair for hours. I don't think he realizes that Karla is right next to the knife block. If he keeps this obnoxious behavior up she might be serving his head on a plate along with the turkey. I have to say, even with a house full of deadbeats, except for Karla, there really is a nice cozy, quaint and festive atmosphere in the house this afternoon. It's sunny outside and kind of chilly. It can snow here in Virginia right before or after Christmas Day, but very rarely on the 25th. We've got a tree with twinkling colorful lights while a glowing fireplace warms the room and laughter fills the air. As for the adorable English bulldog, I'm still steamed that I'm merely an afterthought, if even that. Give it a few hours and I'll give them a Christmas to remember.

freezer and put them on the counter." "Mom! How many vegetables are there? This freezer is jammed with stuff." "Eight. There are also six desserts I'll need you to get ready later on." "Have you lost your mind! Why so many?" "I sent out questionnaires this year and for once everyone responded in a timely fashion." "Hey Karla, how about another round of beers in here? We're getting thirsty. And another plate of cookies too." Will is bellowing from the living room. His butt has been welded to that chair for hours. I don't think he realizes that Karla is right next to the knife block. If he keeps this obnoxious behavior up she might be serving his head on a plate along with the turkey. I have to say, even with a house full of deadbeats, except for Karla, there really is a nice cozy, quaint and festive atmosphere in the house this afternoon. It's sunny outside and kind of chilly. It can snow here in Virginia right before or after Christmas Day, but very rarely on the 25th. We've got a tree with twinkling colorful lights while a glowing fireplace warms the room and laughter fills the air. As for the adorable English bulldog, I'm still steamed that I'm merely an afterthought, if even that. Give it a few hours and I'll

The good thing about the aristocracy – German or English – was that they were easily traced, Mirabelle thought.

An ideal pet for Taurus is the English bulldog. Just like Taurus, bulldogs are strong, loyal, and fond of a lot of relaxation.

I have known many breeds, — Irish Terriers, Airedales, Blue Bedlingtons, Collies, Spaniels, Yorkshires, English Bulldogs, — but it seems to me that the Scottish terrier has the most generous charm of all. Nature was liberal to him in giving him the heart of a big dog in a body so compact and small that he might be the perfect companion indoors and out.

Light and smoke aside, all that remained on the sidewalk was a little red English bulldog. Other than the general doggish shape, that's where the similarities to any beast from this plane ended. "Ferdinand!" I cooed and rounded Ryker to scratch the creature between the stubby horns on its head. He was happy to see me, and he drooled out a little lava while shaking his two stubby tails. "What in the hell is that?" Ryker looked down at Ferdinand with disdain. "That has to be the most pathetic demon dog I've ever seen." "Shh, don't listen to the big mean man," I purred at Ferdie. "And you're the best demon dog, you're the best boy and I'm going to find you a cheeseburger later.

There must have been some streak of romanticism in him, a feeling that he was going to be a Bulldog Drummond

Chris looked at the dog, who has finished feasting on her foot and now comes to sit at his feet, looking up at him as if she expects him to do something. She's leggier than most classic English bulldogs, mostly a dark fawn color, but with a large white patch over one eye. She has those droopy bulldog eyes that can look, by turns, sad and judgmental. But now she stands and cocks her head and wags her tail, and Chris finds himself smiling, begrudgingly, and patting the sofa cushion Beth just vacated. "All right, up you come." The dog hops up, and Chris begins scratching her behind one ear. "You going to put up with me?" he asks. She grunts and leans into his hand.