Gallagher Brother Quotes

He's like a man with a fork, in a world of soup. (about his brother Liam)

A nation forgetting its own laughter is in a sad state of affairs

I'm also getting a piece of chocolate cake... "Can I have a bite?" he asked, his voice smooth and sexy. A bite of what? she wanted to ask, but didn't. She wasn't ready for that level of flirting. "Get your own slice, Gallagher." "I can do that, Blake. I'm in the mood for something sweet it seems.

He wrapped her hair around his fist, tilted her head back, and kissed her. Hard. She moaned into him, and he pulled away. "Possessive much?" she asked on a laugh. "Just making sure these hooligans know you're mine." Her brow rose. "Really? Yours? Talk about caveman." "I'm a Gallagher, baby, I'm as caveman as they come.

And not without sympathy, Aidan turned the shower on full cold and shoved his beloved brother under the heartless spray. Oh, the scream but peeled the skin off his face, and the curse that followed battered his ears. But Aidan held ground, dodged a fist when he had to, and clamping Shawn in a headlock, held him mercilessly under.

There were reasons she stayed behind her barriers, reasons she was the way she was. And she'd be damned if she risked it all for a scowling man behind a beard. She'd learned the hard way once before. Never again, she promised herself. Never again.

This woman could make a saint sin.

It's how we work," his brother said simply. "I plan. Jake refines. Owen organizes. And you growl and grunt.

He's lost everything once, and now, he wasn't sure if he had anything left to lose.

When the pieces fell around him, he'd pick them up. It was what he was good at, after all. Restoring what was once lost, what could never be perfectly whole again.

He might kiss like a damn sex god and rev her engine like no other, but he clearly wasn't for her.

He grinned at her intently before leaning over the counter and running his thumb along her jaw. It took everything inside of her not to lean into that touch. When he lowered his head and brushed his lips over hers, she made a little sound that caused Graham to growl. "Later," he whispered as he pulled back.

So what did you think of Boyd?” “What?” My head snaps up from the baby and I glance at Sophie. Am I that bad a liar? “Boyd? My brother? You met him at the hospital on Monday?” Oh, okay, whew. “He seemed nice,” I offer. I’m not sure why. ‘Nice’ isn’t really at the top of my descriptive words for Boyd Gallagher. Words like ‘gorgeous,’ ‘cocky,’ ‘nosy,’ ‘fit,’ ‘sophisticated,’ ‘chiseled’ and ‘resourceful’ come to mind. But ‘nice’ works too. Everly seems to think the two of you would be good together,” she says, trying to dig into my thoughts on the subject. “Yes, well, Everly also spent fifteen years thinking she and Finn Camden were a perfect match. You can’t always believe her.” “True enough,” Sophie agrees with a laugh.

Without waiting for Ian to reply or escort me, I turn and walk down the hallway. I come to an office where I see a large man, thick through the shoulders and chest, with iron gray hair and dark eyes. Michael Gallagher. Holly's father.

Joe plays guitar. He says he doesn’t play well, but he does. My sister plays harp and my younger brother plays drums. I always thought it would be brilliant to make one album together and call it Fuck the Corrs. But the fights would have made Liam and Noel Gallagher seem like pussycats.

All told, there must have been more than a hundred people there, milling about between the makeshift tricycle track in the parking lot and the fraternity house. The freshmen had come sporting a variety of attire, from the East Coasters in polos to Southern Californians in tank tops, most trying too hard to look cool and casual at the same time. All the brothers were wearing yellow t-shirts for rush; the front depicted Curious George passed out next to a tipped-over bottle of ether. The lower right side of the back showed a small anchor with the fraternity’s letters, KΣ, on each side—it was Evan’s signature. The anchor was his way of saying, “This is an Evan Spiegel production.” Evan was born on June 4, 1990, to a pair of highly successful lawyers. His mother, Melissa Thomas, graduated from Harvard Law School and practiced tax law as a partner at a prominent Los Angeles firm before resigning to become a stay-at-home mother when Evan was young. His father, John Spiegel, graduated from Stanford and Yale Law School and became a partner at Munger, Tolles & Olson, an elite firm started by Berkshire Hathaway’s Charlie Munger. His clients included Warner Bros. and Sergey Brin.

The fraternity’s leadership did a membership review, interviewing every member and weeding out any brothers who were deemed unfit to be a part of the house. Evan and Reggie were picked as two bad apples and kicked out of the fraternity. Reggie’s expulsion came as no surprise to anyone who’d been paying attention. He was known principally for getting wasted, breaking things, and leaving a mess in the kitchen. His room, which reeked of weed and tobacco, was filled with cups and plates from the house’s kitchen that he hadn’t bothered to return. He never showed up for house meetings or lent a hand on house cleans or party setups. Although he was very book smart and super friendly to everyone, he was a downright nuisance to live with. Evan’s case was not so clear-cut—ask ten people why he got kicked out and you’ll get ten different answers. Some say he was a willing scapegoat, volunteering to be kicked out because he knew he wouldn’t have the house for his senior year anyway. Others say he was scapegoated because he had angered younger guys by pushing for parties while the house was on probation. Others say Evan deserved to be kicked out because he didn’t want to fight hard enough get the house back, and he had been taking too cavalier an attitude toward the trouble the fraternity faced. No matter the reason, Evan was out. Guys in the fraternity blamed him for their house being taken away. Friends who he thought would have his back didn’t. Bad news came in threes for Evan. He had already lost Future Freshman. He lost the fraternity. Then, his girlfriend Lily told him she’d had enough and dumped him after two-plus years of dating.

So Gallagher grew up in a weird microcosm of the wider world outside Beacon. His father, and his brother Steve, and his cousin Jackie looked like normal human beings and even sometimes acted like them, but most of the time they veered between two extremes: reckless violence when they were drinking, and comatose somnolence when the drink wore off. Ricocheting

[Peggy Gallagher] was also appearing once a month for two hours on WGN Radio [...] During one summer show, a caller asked, 'Do you think there is a seasonal cycle for Beanie Babies?' 'It’s not different than any other kind of investment—the stock market or the commodities market,' was Gallagher’s reply. Then she explained that she used to be a trader on the Chicago Mercantile Exchange. 'There are peaks and valleys. It’s an investment for people. There’s nobody as big as the market. The Hunt [brothers] tried to do it with the silver market. There is nobody bigger than the market. The prices have stabilized a bit right now, but now they’re starting to get more active. So it’s just like any other type of investment'.

Gareth!  Thank God you're up and about. I was just coming to get you —" "What is it?" "Lucien, the bastard!  He's sent her away!" "'Dammit, Andrew, why the hell didn't you come get me earlier?!" Andrew vaulted down the stairs after him. "I just learned of it this second!  Nerissa went to Miss Paige's room and found her gone, and one of the servants told her Lucien sent her packing back to Boston on the morning stage!  You've got to find her, Gareth, before it's too late!" I'll kill him, Gareth vowed, striding angrily through the Gold Parlour, the Red Drawing Room, the Tapestry Room and toward the Great Hall. "Where is he?" "Outside, on the west lawn." The report of a pistol cracked the mid-morning quiet. Then another. Andrew didn't need to say anything more, for there was only one thing that Lucien ever used the west lawn for. Dueling practice. Another pistol shot banged out in the distance. Gareth saw a footman standing rigidly near the door, pretending not to notice the drama unfolding beneath his nose. "Gallagher? Send word to the stables. I need Crusader saddled immediately." "Yes, my lord." "And get a message to Lord Brookhampton, telling him to summon the Den and have them waiting for me on the green in twenty minutes. Move, man!" Another

13. The Chemical Brothers, “Setting Sun” (1996) Everybody’s favorite song in the fall of 1996, uniting rockers, ravers, clubbers, druggers, all factions of the pop massive. The Chemical Brothers turn “Tomorrow Never Knows” into a banging techno loop, warping Ringo’s block-rocking beats into something new. “Setting Sun” is unaccountably obscure these days, considering what a fact of life it was for a year or so, but it’s a song that accurately predicted the future. There was nothing retro about it; instead of capitulating to the past, the Chemicals complimented it enough to ransack it. In this song, the Beatles aren’t legends or saints or icons—they’re a nasty drum break. The vocals were by Oasis’s Noel Gallagher, then Britannia’s biggest rock star, yet he sounded more antique than Ringo’s drums did. It was the ultimate Nineties statement of the Beatles as a right-now thing as opposed to a good-old-days thing.