Feh Quotes

I have peanut M&M's up there." "Not my style" "Raisinets." "Feh." "Sam Adams." Thor narrowed his eyes. "Cold?" "Downright icy." Thor crossed his arms over his chest and told him self he was not pouting like a five-year-old. "I want Milk Duds.

Isana stared at Gaius for a moment. Then she said, "How can you live with yourself?" The First Lord stared at her for a moment, his eyes cold. Then he spoke in a very quiet, precise, measured voice. "I look out my window each day. I look out my window at people who live and breathe. At people who have not been devoured by civil war. At people who have not been ravaged by disease. At people who have not starved to death, who have not been hacked apart by enemies of humanity, at people who are free to lie and steal and plot and complain and accuse and behave in all manner of repugnant ways because the Realm stands. Because law and order stands. Because something other than simple violence shapes the course of their lives. And I look, wife of my son, mother of my heir, at a very few decent people who have had the luxury of living their lives without being called upon to make hideous decisions I would not wish upon my worst enemies, and who consequently find such matters morally appalling when they consider them--because they have not had to be the ones who dealt with them." He took a short, hard swallow of wine. "Feh. Aquitaine thinks me his enemy. The fool. If I truly hated him, I'd give him the Crown.

Out into the staff quarters. Over to the entrance to the movie theater. Tohr stopped dead. “If this is another Beaches marathon, I’m going to Bette your ass until you can’t sit down.” “Aw, look at you! Trying to be finny.” “Seriously, if you have any compassion in you at all, you’ll let me go to bed—” “I have peanut M&M’s up there.” “Not my style.” “Raisinets.” “Feh.” “Sam Adams.” Tohr narrowed his eyes. “Cold?” “Downright icy.” Tohr crossed his arms over his chest and told himself he was not pouting like a five-year-old. “I want Milk Duds.” “Got ’em. And popcorn.” With a curse, Tohr yanked open the door and ascended into the dimly lit red cave.

Okay, Croaker. What the hell happened?” “I don't know. The falling sickness?” “Give him some of his own soup,” somebody suggested. “Serve him right.” A tin cup appeared. We forced its contents down his throat. His eye clicked open. “What are you trying to do? Poison me? Feh! What was that? Boiled sewage?” “Your soup,” I told him.

Clowns—feh! All that ghastly, forced gaiety, worse than New Year’s Eve.

You know people would say we’re both crazy.” “Feh,” he said cheerfully. “Wouldn’t be the first time someone’s said that to me. Besides, they told Galileo he was crazy, right? And probably Einstein. Sometimes you gotta be crazy to make any progress.

This stratification of Judaism is confusing, so I'll explain it as it relates to bacon. In Judaism the major players are: Reformed eat bacon and love it; Conservative- eat bacon only in diners; Orthodox-never touch bacon but secretly wonder what it tastes like; Ultra Orthodox--no way, feh, it's treif, and Chassidic-what is this bacon of which you speak?

the body evolved to gather vegetables, not to become them, and who resists being absorbed entirely by the creamy perilife that is the desk-computer dyad, may decide, Feh, I’ll forgo the pills, I’ll take a walk, I’ll lift a weight, I’ll visit my daughter and offer to babysit her kids right now.

Pain is like love; indescribable