Extras Maggie Quotes

What do we do now?" Gansey asked. From the other room, Calla bellowed, "GO BUY US PIZZA. WITH EXTRA CHEESE, RICHIE RICH." Blue said, "I think she's starting to like you.

My friend is having his period," I told the pizza guy, and handed him his tip. "He needs Britney and extra cheese to get him through it. I'm trying to be supportive.

If you trust me on anything, don't risk today. You're ready as you'll ever be," I say. "Everyone else is robbed the extra day, too.

And this was how it started: Nose up to the light. Meet the driver’s eyes. Shut off the air-co to give the car a few extra horsepower. Rev the engine. Smile like danger.

You are not betraying your grief by feeling joy. You are not being graded, and you do not receive extra credit for being miserable 100% of the time. Find pockets of relief, even happiness, when and where you can. KEEP MOVING.

Starvation was the first indication of my self-discipline. I was devoted to anorexia. I went the distance of memorizing the calorie content within every bite of food while calculating the exact amount of exercise I needed to burn double my consumption. I was luckily young enough to mask my excessive exercise with juvenile hyperactivity. Nobody thought twice about the fact that I was constantly rollerblading, biking, and running for hours in stifling summer humidity. I learned to cut my food into tiny bites and move it around my plate. I read that standing burned more calories than sitting, so I refused to watch television without doing crunches, leg lifts, or at least walking in place. When socially forced to soldier through a movie, I tapped my foot in desperation to knock out about seventy-five extra calories. From age eleven to twelve, I dropped forty pounds and halted the one period I’d had.

Her entire life she’d struggled to lose the extra weight that enjoyed residing at five foot four Maggie Lawson. PO Box ASS, Zip code THIGHS. Seems it was its permanent address, and she’d come to accept the houseguests.

Scarface don’t have shit on me. I should have been in Lion King, huh?! Maybe I could have been an extra. I heard ALL OF THE FUCKING JOKES, BRO! I HEARD THEM ALL! NOTHING YOU CAN SAY TO ME THAT I HAVEN’T HEARD BEFORE SO EVERYONE GET YO SHIT OUT NOW BECAUSE THE NEXT TIME A BITCH SAY SOMETHING, I’MA POP YOU IN YO SHIT!

This world isn’t dead, but it might as well be, dragging its corpse from cáfe to ballroom to alt-rock concerts, unable to do anything but keep itself awake, nothing more.” “Don’t be bummed you can’t do what you were doing before,” Matthew said encouragingly. He ripped out a blank page of the journal. “Hannah bought an extra pen—would it make you feel better to draw a li’l something’?!” “The world prepares to burn and we entertain ourselves with trinkets and crafts while pissing into bottles in the dark.” But Bryde sat up stiffly and accepted the scratch paper. “See, this is a perfectly cool time,” Matthew said soothingly. “I was not made for a perfectly cool time,” Bryde said. He had drawn something that looked either like a tornado or like something had been trying to take the pen while he wrote.

The text had been scattered with small numbers, and right down at the bottom of the page, in very small type you had to squint to read, there were extra facts. Footnotes, his father had told him they were called, when Niall had asked, and shown him how the numbers linked and guided you to the right information. Niall had been enthralled by this system, struck by its beauty, the way there could be one main narrative and, right there, at the bottom of each page, additional helpful information on all the things you couldn’t understand. He decided there and then that his life needed footnotes and that he, Niall, should be the one to provide them.

So he really doesn’t need to have any extra charges brought against him for the assaults on your Maggie and my little receptionist, which saves them a lot of hassle and court appearances.