Judge Judy Quotes

Beauty fades, dumb is forever.

You know what I hate? The outdoors. I mean, generally. I don't like outside. I'm an inside person. I'm all about refrigeration and indoor plumbing and Judge Judy.

If it doesn't make sense, it's usually not true.

If you tell the truth, then you don't have to have a good memory

Don't pee on my leg and tell me it's raining.

Two ears, one mouth - listen twice as much as you speak.

What did I owe you, Peter? Truth and justice? If judges would judge, if lawyers wouldn’t trick, if reporters would tell what really happened instead of what sold papers. Fat

They put an eraser on a pencil for a reason.

The greatest thing about speaking the truth is that you never have to remember what you said." -Judge Judy

If knowing how clueless I am is the measure of wisdom, I am freaking Solomon, Walter Cronkite, and Judge Judy all rolled into one.

Amen” is how most of us end our prayers, the standard response to prayers in the synagogue and the church and the mosque. The word means “And so it is” or “Truly.” Well, that’s very nice, but what on earth does “it” mean? What is? The people praying are the ones saying “Amen,” so it’s not God saying bossily, like Judge Judy, “So it is. All done. Go away. Get some help with that anger.” It is us, the damaged, hopeless people, lifting up our hope, hate, gratitude, fear, and shame, saying, Boy, do we hope we are right about this God stuff.

You only have one chance for a first impression.

If it doesn’t make sense, it’s not true

My grandmother always told me: beauty fades but dumb is forever.

No, I really don’t,” I said. “That’s the problem.” “But you know that you do not know,” Michael said. “Which is wise.” I snorted. “If knowing how clueless I am is the measure of wisdom, I am freaking Solomon, Walter Cronkite, and Judge Judy all rolled into one.” Sanya held up his hands with his fingers in a square, framing my face like a photographer. “Always thought you look more like a Judy.

Your Script Here’s what to tell someone or yourself while you’re totally unable to understand the reason for or source of a problem. Dear [Me/Family Member/Spouse/Overly Logical Friend]: I know it’s hard to understand why a [positive adjectives] person like me should have a problem with [addiction/politics/attraction to morons] but I do, and, to date, treatment with [three analysts/kabbalah/Judge Judy] hasn’t given me an answer that makes a difference. I’ve decided that ignorance is okay, but my problem isn’t, and that from now on I need to do everything I can to improve and manage my behavior, just to be the person I want to be. So I will be open about my problem [in meetings/press releases/tweets], welcome observations about my behavior [with/without retaliating], and track my progress over time [in my computer/Facebook/a secret journal that you should burn if I die]. And I will not give up.

You don’t have to be here,” William offered with his trademark quiet solemnity. I shook my head but kept my eyes fixed on the closed doors at the end of the hall. “No. I wouldn’t miss it.” Would rather be home in my slippers watching Judge Judy, sure, but duty calls. That was my style of party these days. Throw in a slice of Battenberg and some Werther’s Originals and I could go wild on a sugar high. But no, today was William’s birthday, so I was going to try and keep my grumpy old man behavior to a minimum. Try being the operative word. No promises. My teammate, and the guest of honor for this particular party, tugged on the sleeve of my suit jacket and brought us to a stop. “Hey. Seriously. You’re eighteen months sober.” “Has it been eighteen months already?” I stroked the stubble on my chin and cracked a grin. “Time flies when you’re killing house plants.

She had several books she'd been wanting to read, but instead she sprawled out on the couch surrounded by pillows and blankets, and spent the hours flipping channels between Judge Judy, The People's Court, Maury, and Jerry Springer, and rounded out her afternoon with Dr. Phil and Oprah. All in all, it was a complete waste of a day. At least until school got out. Jay showed up after school with a bouquet of flowers and an armful of DVDs, although Violet couldn't have card less about either...he was all she wanted. She couldn't help the electric thrill of excitement she felt when he came strolling in, grinning at her foolishly as if he hadn't seen her in weeks rather than hours. He scooped her up from the couch and dropped her onto his lap as he sat down where she had been just a moment before. He was careful to arrange her ankle on a neatly stacked pile of pillows beside him. He stubbornly refused to hide his affection for her, and if Violet hadn't known better she would have sworn that he was going out of his way to make her self-conscious in her own home. Fortunately her parents were giving them some space for the time being, and they were left by themselves most of the time. "Did you miss me?" he asked arrogantly as he gently brushed his lips over hers, not bothering to wait for an answer. She smiled while she kissed him back, loving the topsy-turvy feeling that her stomach always got when he was so close to her. She wound her arms around his neck, forgetting that she was in the middle of the family room and not hidden away in the privacy of her bedroom. He pulled away from her, suddenly serious. "You know, we didn't get much time alone yesterday. And I didn't get a chance to tell you..." Violet was mesmerized by the thick timbre of his deep voice. She barely heard his words but rather concentrated on the fluid masculinity of his tone. "I feel like I've waited too long to finally have you, and then yesterday...when..." He stopped, seemingly at a loss, and then he tried another approach. His hand stroked her cheek, igniting a response from deep within her. "I can't imagine living without you," he said, tenderly kissing her forehead, his warm breath fanning her brow. He paused thoughtfully for a moment before speaking again. "I love you, Violet. More than I ever could have imagined. And I don't want to lose you...I can't lose you." It was her turn to look arrogant as she glanced up at him. "I know," she stated smugly, shrugging her shoulder. He shoved her playfully but held on to her tightly so that she never really went anywhere. "What do you mean, 'I know'? What kind of response is that?" His righteous indignation bordered on comical. He pulled her down into his arms so that his face was directly above hers. "Say it!" he commanded. She shook her head, pretending not to understand him. "What? What do you want me to say?" But then she giggled and ruined her baffled façade. He teased her with his mouth, leaning down to kiss her and then pulling away before his lips ever reached hers. He nuzzled her neck tantalizingly, only to stop once she responded. She wrapped her arms around his neck, trying to pull him closer, frustrated by his mocking ambush of her senses. "Say it," he whispered, his breath warm against her neck. She groaned, wanting him to put her out of her misery. "I love you too," she rasped as she clung to him. "I love you so much..." His mouth moved to cover hers in an exhausting kiss that left them broth breathless and craving more than they could have. Violet collapsed into his arms, gathering her wits and hoping that no one walked in on them anytime soon.

On the other side of that big-ass mirror, a video camera was watching us. In about ten seconds, it was going to start spitting static at itself, and everything it saw was going to break up into a fuzzy, gray-white wash, rolling up and down, that wouldn’t be admissible as evidence on Judge Judy. Those missing frames would last a little less than a quarter of a minute, consolidate themselves back into a semblance of reality, and then I would theoretically go walking right back out of here. Between now and that moment, there stretched an infinite ocean of potential time. Time enough to walk around the world. Time enough to fall in love, get married on a white beach under purple stars, write a book of poems about truest passion, have a few good and bloody screaming matches, get divorced in a court of autumn elves and gypsy moths, then set the ink-stained, tear-streaked pages of your text ablaze.

Beauty fades, DUMB is forever.

Dumb ideas come from people who have dumb brains

News flash: God wants you. He wants a relationship with you. That’s why He made you. And I have to be honest with you here. If you don’t have much interest in spending time with God, I have to wonder about your salvation. No, I’m not Judge Judy. But if you’re just going through the motions, playing the part but never owning your relationship with God, chances are you need to go back to square one and be sure beyond a shadow of doubt that you truly gave your heart to God. So you can know that you know that you know that Jesus is Lord of your life. If you didn’t previously make a pit stop there, flip over to the back of the book to the section I mentioned earlier about becoming a Christian. Go on. Take your time. I’ll wait for you.

it’s nice to have that judgment I am always using on myself personified, or canineified, if you will. It means that I don’t have to work so hard reflecting and disapproving of my own actions and decisions. I can just look over at him after making them; he does the judging for me.

Supreme Court Justice Ruth Bader Ginsburg vs. Judge Judy [10w] Justice Ginsburg ain't got half the chutzpah of Judge Judy.

News flash: God wants you. He wants a relationship with you. That’s why He made you. And I have to be honest with you here. If you don’t have much interest in spending time with God, I have to wonder about your salvation. No, I’m not Judge Judy. But if you’re just going through the motions, playing the part but never owning your relationship with God, chances are you need to go back to square one and be sure beyond a shadow of doubt that you truly gave your heart to God.

Don’t pee on Judge Judy’s leg and tell her it’s raining,” Lou said.

Does it look like I have stupid written across my forehead

friend of mine says that every time I judge myself harshly, I draw a drop of blood from my heart. So easy does it!

Lesson 2—SAVE ALL Correspondence—It's Your EVIDENCE or Proof Just like Judge Judy on The People's Court, she begins the case allowing each party to tell a short story. After that, she wants proof. It doesn't really matter what it is, as long as it is not noise coming out of their head. It could a phone log, a note with a date stamp on it, a chronological record or a notepad, in addition to receipts and other things. The point is to have SOMETHING other than “He said, she said” to make your case.

This is a test

We were referring to Forever, Judy Blume’s latest book. Beth and I were obsessed with Judy Blume. We had plodded through Blubber, Tales of A Fourth Grade Nothing, Deenie, and Are You There God? It’s Me, Margaret in record-breaking speed, with Margaret being the pinnacle, the literary work we judged all other books against, until Forever. With Margaret, we witnessed our chests blossom from flat boards to mosquito bites, culminating in the extremely delicate and life-changing ritual of menstruation. We celebrated with Margaret and hoped for the same surge of hormones in our own bodies by the book’s end, but much to our frustration, that didn’t happen, no, not until we got to reading Forever. There began the hormone surge. Forever was not the same identifiable literature that had answered most of the questions and concerns I had about the awkward, teenage years. This particular book stumped me. “Didn’t you just love Michael and Katherine together?” she

The building’s signage was very good, and they ended up in a corner of the second floor, talking to the judge’s receptionist, Judy.

God has nothing to do with the evil but has everything to do with the outcome, because it is already written.

My friend Donna even likes to give humorous names to her reactive emotions such as “Freddy Fear,” “Judge Judy,” and “Anger Annie.

On Feb. 5, 1945, an all-star cast spoofed America’s most popular comic strip in an hour-long play, Dick Tracy in B-Flat; or, For Goodness Sake, Isn’t He Ever Going to Marry Tess Trueheart? The stars were Bing Crosby as Dick Tracy; Dinah Shore as Tess Trueheart; Harry Von Zell as Old Judge Hooper; Jerry Colonna as the Chief of Police; Bob Hope as Flat Top; Frank Morgan as Vitamin Flintheart; Jimmy Durante as the Mole; Judy Garland as Snowflake; the Andrews Sisters as the Summer Sisters; Frank Sinatra as Shaky; and Cass Daley as Gravel Gertie.

In a recent report, one of ten college graduates (graduates!) thought Judge Judy was on the Supreme Court.13 Intelligence?