Kiki Quotes

When I grow up, I'd like to be dangerous.

Right. I look fine. Except I don't,' said Zora, tugging sadly at her man's nightshirt. This was why Kiki had dreaded having girls: she knew she wouldn't be able to protect them from self-disgust. To that end she had tried banning television in the early years, and never had a lipstick or a woman's magazine crossed the threshold of the Belsey home to Kiki's knowledge, but these and other precautionary measures had made no difference. It was in the air, or so it seemed to Kiki, this hatred of women and their bodies-- it seeped in with every draught in the house; people brought it home on their shoes, they breathed it in off their newspapers. There was no way to control it.

Yalena: Could you always open your door? Kiki: Yes. Fence, too. Yalena Why don't you? Kiki: Hay sweet. Fresh water. Peppermints.

Trust, Kiki said, Trust is peppermints.

- You look fine. - Right. I look fine. Except I don't, said Zora, tugging sadly at her man's nightshirt. This was why Kiki had dreaded having girls: she knew she wouldn't be able to protect them from self-disgust.

You big crybaby," I whispered into his ear. "Now you know why your mom warned you not to hit girls. Sometimes they hit back.

We're bound by more than love, it would seem. Destiny seems to have plans for us as well.

You in the back," said the principal. "Don't think you can hide. Tell me. What would you like to be?" "Dangerous," said the hidden girl, without a second's hesitation.

Before Kiki and I headed toward the Keep, I thanked my friends. “For what? We didn’t do anything,” Janco grumbled. “For caring enough to follow my guards. And the next time, I might need the help.” “There better not be a next time,” Ari said, giving me a stern look. “How touching,” Janco said, pretending to wipe his eyes. “Get going, Yelena. I don’t want you to see me cry.” He faked a sniffle. “I’m sure your ego can handle it,” I said. “Or will you need to beat up some trainees to feel like a man again?” “Very funny,” he said.

Oh bloody hell. She'd just stolen the queen's ring.

If by now you're a little confused, don't be too hard on yourself. Life is confusing, and anyone who claims that she has all the answers has probably uncovered the wrong ones.

Stop trying. Take long walks. Look at scenery. Doze off at noon. Don't even think about flying. And then, pretty soon, you'll be flying again.

One minute sweet and nice, like a lovable little kitten, the next she'd give you a pop in the jaw if you say the wrong thing.

This is April," he said, holding up the chicken. "She's the only friend I have left. I saved her from an evil chef at Tavern on the Green, and we've pledged eternal friendship.

I always thought love made you stupid. Made you weak. A bad Shadowhunter. 'To love is to destroy.'I believed that[...]I used to think being a good warrior meant not caring,[...] And then I met you. You were a mundane. Weak. Not a fighter. Never trained[...] Love didn't make you weak, it made you stronger than anyone I'd ever met. And I realized I was the one who was weak.

How wonderful it is to have a place to return to.

Just like a kitten pretending to be a lion.

Quiet people keep thier secrets to themselves. That's what makes them interesting...and usually worth the wait.

first don't panic, second don't panic and third DID I MENTCHIN NOT TO PANIC?!

I don’t believe in failure,” she was saying in that confident, breezy way. “Because simply by saying you’ve failed, you’ve admitted you attempted. And anyone who attempts is not a failure. Those who truly fail in my eyes are the ones who never try at all. The ones who sit on the couch and whine and moan and wait for the world to change for them.” – Kiki Sparks

Jiji: [after hearing that Kiki plans on leaving town for her witch training] I'm going to put my paws together and pray that you're not serious!

Kiki don't get too hung up on appearances, it's your heart that's important

Find the light that makes your lantern shine, " Mama would say. Now, more than ever, Kiki was that light.

she was impressed that a single ray of sun could make the world this beautiful.

I've always found that one of the biggest benefits of being a girl is that most people refuse to take you seriously. While boys must be constantly monitored and are always the first suspects when anything goes wrong, everyone expects girls to do what they're told. It may seem a little insulting at first, but low expectations can be a blessing in disuise. If you're smart, you can use people's foolishness to your own advantage. It's amazing what you can get away with when no one bothers watching.

My God, girl, you can bugger up any well-thought-out scheme.

A cry of despair escaped her lips. When had she fallen in love with him?

from Pearls and Poison… “In two minutes the cops are going to come barreling though that door,” I whispered to Auntie KiKi hoping to get her mind off the body in the back room. “Any suggestions how we tell these workers out here their candidate just croaked?” “Yell The jackass bit the big one, hip-hip hooray Gloria wins, then run like the dickens before someone recognizes us.

Somewhere along the way, I started to believe it myself. I think that being brave and self confident doesn’t necessarily start inside, honey. It starts with the rest of the world, and it leads back to you.

Expecting his usual aloof expression, she saw instead that his smoky eyes were locked on her face and the walls that he usually hid behind were gone. There was something that looked almost like longing in his expression.

Rieker's hand slid from her wrist to her hand, and his fingers entwined around hers. Before she could move, he wrapped his arms around her shoulders and pulled her close. Instead of being afraid, Tiki felt an odd sense of safety.

Lavender Lady not go again," Kiki said in my mind. "I'll try to avoid it. No promises, though." She huffed. "Next time Kiki go." "A Horsefinder?" "Help Lavender Lady.

A few strands of his long, dark hair had been caught by the wind and blown against his face. Without thinking, she reached up and smoothed the strands away from his skin, wishing she could smooth away the pain etched there.

Tiki was uncomfortably aware of how close Rieker was standing to her, yet at the same time she felt pulled toward him, as though in the grip of a magnet.

I feel like I'm selling something nobody want to buy. Something big and stinky, like Kiki Brown and her lemon smell-good polish. But what really makes me and Kiki the same is, I'm proud a what I'm selling. I can't help it. We telling stories that need to be told.

Tiki ran hard, ignoring the startled looks of strangers. It felt good to run, to run away from her sadness and fear.

Habis kikis. Segala cintaku hilang terbang. Pulang kembali aku padamu. Seperti dahulu.

I didn’t know whether to feel smart for figuring out Kiki’s advice, or feel like a simpleton for having a horse tell me the right thing to do

You’re totally crazy.’ ‘Of course,’ says Kiki. ‘It’s the only way to be free.

I took in the smudges of ink and charcoal on his rolled sleeves, the windswept hair neatly gathered at his nape, his dark eyes, somehow brighter every time I saw them. Kiki was right, he wasn’t so much the barbarian I’d pictured.

humans are so quick to decide that anything they don't understand is evil.

Just follow your heart, and keep smiling.

everyone has some type of magic inside them. If a person can find their magic and lovingly cultivate it, they'll truly feel alive every day.

those who complain too much can't hear nice noises.

This was why Kiki had dreaded having girls: she knew she wouldn't be able to protect them from self-disgust.

Ghost?” I asked. Moon Man pointed to Valek. “Kiki’s name for him. It makes sense,” he said, seeing the look of confusion on my face. “To magical beings, we see the world through our magic. We see him with our eyes, but cannot see him with our magic. So he is like a ghost to us.” Valek listened to Moon Man. Although expressionless, I could tell by the rigid set to Valek’s shoulders that he was prepared to strike. “Another relative?” Valek asked. A broad smile stretched Moon Man’s lips. “Yes. I am her mother’s uncle’s wife’s third cousin.

One of the locations that showed up most frequently in Kira’s OASIS account logs was the planet Miyazaki in Sector Twenty-Seven. It was a bizarre and beautiful world that paid tribute to the work of Hayao Miyazaki, the famous Japanese animator behind anime masterpieces like Nausicaä of the Valley of the Wind and Kiki’s Delivery Service.

I’ve come to believe that everyone has some type of magic inside them. If a person can find their magic and lovingly cultivate it, they’ll truly feel alive every day.

When, on their twenty-fifth wedding anniversary, Jerome had played his parents an ethereal, far more beautiful version of 'Hallelujah' by a kid called Buckley, Kiki had thought yes, that's right, our memories are getting more beautiful and less real every day. And then the kid drowned in the Mississippi, recalled Kiki now, looking up from her knees to the colourful painting that hung behind Carlene's empty chair. Jerome had wept: the tears you cry for someone whom you never met who made something beautiful that you loved. Seventeen years earlier, when Lennon died, Kiki had dragged Howard to Central Park and wept while the crowd sang 'All You Need is Love' and Howard ranted bitterly about Milgram and mass psychosis.

Were you and Hope the only ones at that school to have normal names? What was with those people—Buffy, Kiki, Dede, Muffin?' 'Well, dear, they’d already used up the good names for the dogs,' Faith countered archly, and turned off the light.

It was in the air, or so it seemed to Kiki, this hatred of women and their bodies – it seeped in with every draught in the house; people brought it home on their shoes, they breathed it in off their newspapers. There was no way to control it.

Just always be honest about your feelings. If everyone did that then the world would be a much simpler place.

always tell the truth and you'll never have to remember your words.

There's lots of interesting things in books. And you get to meet people you might never know otherwise.

The idea of the book that matters most," Kiki said. "Because i think it's like impossible to pick such a book. When you read a book, and who you are when you read it, makes it matter or not. Like if you're unhappy and you read, I don't know, On the Road or The Three Musketeers, and that book changes how you fell or how you think, then it matters the most. At that time.

In fact, there was a sort of satisfaction and pride in knowing that Kiki was his. Other men could look, they could envy, they could even covet, but she was going home with him. Every. Time.

I cling to her and try to believe my financial troubles and dark secret can be erased by taking off my clothes for strangers Kiki loves me more than I love myself. She loves me enough for us both.

I love everything. The way she strokes her earlobe when she's thinking. The way she chews her pen when she's writing. The way she laughs. The way she smiles. The way she's kind. The way she cares. The way she listens. Just everything. She's just incredible. I've never met anyone quite like her before.

the first rule of being a team is trusting one another. And if you trust someone, you let her keep her secrets. When she is ready to tell you, she will. You dont have to know everything, Anaka. Why not? Why should I trust Oona if she doesnt trust me? How do I know she's not hiding somthing more dangerous? Oona was worried the rest of you would see her differently, Kiki bristled. Don't prove her right.

when it’s your own child, you are not a babysitter. It’s called parenting.

I'm not a criminal. I'm a buisness woman.

Just follow your heart, and keep smiling.

In her opinion, hard asses were people who said mean things simply to be mean. They seemed to get a kick out of breaking people down and, if they felt like it after, building them back up. Kiki, however, just told people the honest truth if they asked.

… Yelena? Hello?” Leif poked my arm. “I’m here.” “What are we going to do?” Leif asked me. “It’s too late to go anywhere else. Kiki and the horses will watch the outside of the building and alert me if anyone approaches.” “Ooh, guard horses. How quaint.

She could not do distress. Anger was so much easier. And quicker and harder and better. If I start crying, I’ll never stop –you hear people say that; Kiki heard people say it all the time in the hospital. A backlog of sadness for which there would never be sufficient time

Rieker threaded her hair behind her ears with his other hands, his fingers lingering against her cheek. "We're different Tiki," he said softly. "We're caught between two worlds and honestly, I don't know which one we belong in. But I do know this - I don't want to be either place without you." He looked deep into her eyes. "I believe we found each other because we're meant to be together.

To those of you who are sticklers for safety and approach life with all the caution of amateur beekeepers, I can offer no excuse for what I did then. I’ll admit that a more mature human being would never have let her curiosity take control. Thankfully, I was twelve years old and fully prepared to meet the challenge at hand.

And if my sweet mate is too tired to hold his head up, I will simply fuck his face, until he wakes up.

I'll fucking think about not fucking cussing so much. Asshole.

Instinctively, I realized that if I didn’t build a life for myself outside the orb of my child’s world, I would cripple both of us.

Every day is an adventure, or it's just some thing you do. It's your choice.

Kat stood immobile and watched with pain, a kiss of passion, a kiss of desire; a kiss that could never be hers.

For each ray of light, there's a stroke of dark, For each possibility, one has gone. For each action, a reaction. Ever in balance, the world spins on.

Confidence is the force that runs the world. Mixed with a dose of charm, it has the power to produce everything from prom queens to presidents.

Just because something awful happens to someone else, it doesn't mean the issues in your life should take any less importance.

It's like she has some sort of captivating fire in her eyes. Sometimes she'll look at me and I feel like she's staring into my soul, reading everything I'm trying to keep hidden.

I feel like I look at her and get lost in her eyes.

Good food, fresh water, and an occasional sweet and someone to care for. That's what everyone should have. A simplistic and unrealistic view I knew, but it soothed me.

It was a good year for both of us, wasn’t it?

Kiki’s been through more boys than the Cub Scouts.

Kiki, it’s not arrogant to know what you’re good at. It’s arrogant to think you don’t need to grow.

Kiki’s fingerprint opened a heavy steel door and they entered a kind of library, if that library were designed by robots and for dinosaurs.

I want to do important work,” Kiki said, and the light that shone from those clear, bright eyes was too intense. Minh looked away. “That’s all any of us want. To not go to waste,” Kiki said.

you're not just a pickpocket with fast hands." Rieker's eyes locked on hers. "I found a girl caring for other orphans like a mother. A girl who'd befriended an old bookshop keeper who had lost his only daughter. A girl who can read and is helping others learn to read." His voice softened. "And a girl so beautiful at times, you take my breath away.

One night, after we went to see him play live, Neil Young came back home with us and, after a few drinks, elected to perform his forthcoming album in its entirety for us at 2 a.m. Already alerted to the fact that an impromptu party was going on by the nerve-jangling sound of my friend Kiki Dee drunkenly walking into a glass door while holding a tray containing every champagne glass we owned, the delight of the adjoining flats at Neil Young performing his forthcoming album was audible. So that’s how I heard the classic ‘Heart Of Gold’ for the first time, presented in a unique arrangement of solo piano, voice and neighbour intermittently banging on the ceiling with a broom handle and loudly imploring Neil Young to shut up.

What are you getting at? I demanded. Are you saying you know somthing about me? For a moment she was quiet. Her pale eyeswandered across my face as if she was searching for somthing she had seen before. "Let's see. I know your short on friends. I also know your a little strange. I figure you must be pretty bored, or you wouldn't have spent your time following me around. But I know a few other things that might make me think you're interesting." I couldn't tell wether I should be frightened or flatered. No one had ever said that about me before. "Is that good or bad?" I asked. "That, Mrs. Fishbein, is entirely up to you

I'm taking the chance, walking away, breaking the rules nobody here can tell me what to do.

... never brag about your expertise. Instead, wait for the opportunity to showcase your skills and watch all the jaws drop.

My life in crime began with a good deed. You

Pythagoras argued that the souls of poets pass not from this world but lodge themselves in the breastwork of swans. Let it be, then. Let some of us withdraw to the keel-shaped bones to the tilted orrery of the thorax. But I think: if poets coalesce as swans we're mostly in the feet of swans, black as drums pressing our rageful webbing into the earth's flank.

«"All I know is… I want to be important. To be someone’s priority." He blinked back his tears, feeling overwhelmed at just saying the words. His deepest desires. "I want to be cared for"».

Little girls are always more powerful than people think we are. People think we’re sweet, precious things, all sugar and spice and everything nice, but we’ve got iron and steel in us, too.

The style of a soul “What’s the matter with both of you, Ellsworth? Why such talk—over nothing at all? People’s faces and first impressions don’t mean a thing.” “That, my dear Kiki,” he answered, his voice soft and distant, as if he were giving an answer, not to her, but to a thought of his own, “is one of our greatest common fallacies. There’s nothing as significant as a human face. Nor as eloquent. We can never really know another person, except by our first glance at him. Because, in that glance, we know everything. Even though we’re not always wise enough to unravel the knowledge. Have you ever thought about the style of a soul, Kiki?” “The … what?” “The style of a soul. Do you remember the famous philosopher who spoke of the style of a civilization? He called it ‘style.’ He said it was the nearest word he could find for it. He said that every civilization has its one basic principle, one single, supreme, determining conception, and every endeavor of men within that civilization is true, unconsciously and irrevocably, to that one principle. … I think, Kiki, that every human soul has a style of its own, also. Its one basic theme. You’ll see it reflected in every thought, every act, every wish of that person. The one absolute, the one imperative in that living creature. Years of studying a man won’t show it to you. His face will. You’d have to write volumes to describe a person. Think of his face. You need nothing else.” “That sounds fantastic, Ellsworth. And unfair, if true. It would leave people naked before you.” “It’s worse than that. It also leaves you naked before them. You betray yourself by the manner in which you react to a certain face. To a certain kind of face. … The style of your soul … There’s nothing important on earth, except human beings. There’s nothing as important about human beings as their relations to one another. …” —Ayn Rand, The Fountainhead

I can't understand people being rude to their spouses. Your husband or wife should be the one person in the world you treat with loving patience. He or she chose you above all others-for a lifetime! And yet I see women who are nicer to their girlfriends, and men who are more thoughtful toward their employees. That's meshuganeh. Friends come and go. Employees move on. Your partner is there for the long haul. He deserves your best every day of your life.

Saat itu adalah waktu terbaik, sekaligus waktu terburuk. Masa kebijaksanaan, sekaligus masa kebodohan. Zaman iman, sekaligus zaman keraguan. Musim Terang, sekaligus musim Kegelapan. Musim semi pengharapan, sekaligus musim dingin keputusasaan. Kita memiliki semuanya di hadapan kita, sekaligus tidak memiliki semuanya. Kita semua langsung pergi ke Surga, sekaligus langsung pergi ke jalan lainnya. Pendeknya, zaman itu begitu persis dengan zaman sekarang.” “Setiap waktu punya bentuk cintanya sendiri-sendiri

thought he was fooling Kiki, and Kiki thought he was fooling Ruggedo; so both were pleased. "It's a long way across the Desert," remarked the boy, "and the sands are hot and send up poisonous vapors. Let us wait until evening and then fly across in the night when it will be cooler." The former Nome King agreed to this, and the two spent the rest of that day in talking over their plans. When evening came they paid the inn-keeper and walked out to a little grove of trees that stood near by. "Remain here for a few minutes and I'll soon be back," said Kiki, and walking swiftly away, he left the Nome standing in the grove. Ruggedo wondered where he had gone, but stood quietly in his place until, all of a sudden, his form changed to that of a great eagle, and he uttered a piercing cry of astonishment and flapped his wings in a sort of panic. At once his eagle cry was answered from beyond the grove, and another eagle, even larger and more powerful than the transformed Ruggedo, came sailing through the trees and alighted beside him. "Now we are ready for the start," said the voice of Kiki, coming from the eagle.

She clicked open the door and glided into the back seat like a summer breeze through an open window on the highway. "Where are you heading?", His Southern twang reminded her of home, but her eyes showed him no familiarity. She stared at him, void of expression, her thoughts racing. "Miss?", he persisted. "Anywhere. Please. Just drive.", she replied tersely, not sure if she even wanted her mind to join her in the back seat. The driver stared into her eyes and somehow understood, he started the engine and on they went. Two strangers, a blur of yellow, in pursuit of nowhere.

El juego consiste en frenar lo más tarde posible. El que frena más tarde es el más macho de la pandilla. Digamos que el tamaño de su kiki es proporcional al lapso que va a dejar transcurrir antes de frenar. Por supuesto, el invento no falla: uno de esos idiotas acaba su carrera en el fondo del acantilado, dentro de un Chevrolet convertido en un compacto amasijo de chatarra. Pues bien, cuanto más avanzábamos Alice y yo en nuestra aventura, más nos dábamos cuenta de que éramos como esos rebeldes sin causa. Acelerábamos hacia un precipicio, pisando el pedal. Entonces todavía no sabía que sería yo el cretino que iba a frenar demasiado tarde.

CREDO NOWOCZESNEGO HUMANIZMU Jestem optymistą, ponieważ uważam, że świat jest okrutny, niesprawiedliwy, obojętny. Jestem optymistą, ponieważ życie jest dla mnie za krótkie, zbyt ograniczone, bolesne. Jestem optymistą, ponieważ odprawiłem żałobę po obiektywnej prawdzie i teraz już wiem, że nigdy nie będę wiedział. Jestem optymistą, ponieważ dostrzegam, że wszelka równowaga jest krucha i tymczasowa. Jestem optymistą, ponieważ nie wierzę w postęp, a dokładniej mówiąc w postęp samoistny, nieunikniony, nieuchronny, postęp beze mnie, bez nas, bez naszej woli i naszego potu. Jestem optymistą, ponieważ obawiam się, aby nie nadeszło najgorsze, więc zrobię wszystko, aby go uniknąć. Jestem optymistą, ponieważ to jedyne inteligentne rozwiązanie, jakie mogę wyciągnąć z absurdu. Jestem optymistą, ponieważ to jedyna spójna postawa, jaką podszeptuje mi rozpacz. Tak, jestem optymistą, ponieważ bycie optymistą to atrakcyjna stawka; jeżeli los dowiedzie mi, że miałem rację, ufając - wygram; jeżeli los ujawni mój błąd, nic nie stracę, a moje życie będzie lepsze, bogatsze, bardziej użyteczne.

 “You like me, though. You want to go on a date with me.” It wasn’t a question. “Cocky much?” “Confident. Don’t be mistaken.” “Why do you want to take me out so badly?” “Fishing for more compliments, are we?” He’d caught me, but went on anyway. “Obviously you’re beautiful. You have nice, you know, legs and . . . stuff.” “You’re laughing. I don’t think I’m really your type. I think you’re messing with me. I’m not at all like Charlize Theron.” We pulled up to my car but he let Charlize idle before getting out. “You are so my type. Charlize—at least the actress—is not. I mean, she’s gorgeous, in a blond, Amazonian, I-might-kill-and-eat-my-own-young kind of way, but I like your look better.” “Oh yeah? What’s my look?” “There’s something dark about you . . . and interesting. Your creamy skin, your black hair. The way you move. Your mouth.” He reached out to touch my cheek but I jerked away, breaking the seriousness of the moment. “What do you mean I’m dark?” He smiled and shrugged. “I don’t know. Like I want to get naked with you and a Ouija board.” I burst out laughing. “And your laugh . . . it’s like the sound of someone squeezing the life out of a miniature trumpet. It’s really cute.” “That is not a compliment. I have a nice laugh. And by the way, your voice is nasally when you’re not trying to impress people.” He held his hand to his chest like he was offended, except he was still smiling. “I’m crushed. Penny, whatever your last name is—” “Piper.” “Ha! Penny Piper? You’ve got to be kidding! That’s either a children’s book character or a porn star’s name. Penny Piper picked a peck of pickled pep—” “Stop! I know, trust me. I have to live with this name. My poor sister’s name is Kiki Piper. Like we’re fucking hobbits or something.” “Penny Piper is worse than Kiki Piper, hands down.” I cocked my head to the side. “Thanks.” “Just sayin’. What’s your middle name?” “Isabelle.” “I’m gonna call you PIP Squeak.” “Thank you. I can’t wait.” “And by the way, I happen to have a deviated septum. That’s why my voice sounds like this sometimes, you asshole. Now get out and help me with your car.” As we stepped out, he pointed to my Honda and said, “Try and start it when I tell you.” I stopped and turned to him. “What’s your middle and last name?” “Gavin Augusta Berninger.” “Regal,” I said with a wink. “I know, right?” He shrugged one arm like he was royalty or something. “Is that French?” “Yeah, my dad’s family is French . . . sort of. Like, his great-great-grandfather came from France. No one in our family even speaks French.” “Hmm, not so regal anymore,” I said. “Whatever, Penny Piper.