Mean Girls Karen Quotes

KAREN On Wednesdays, we array ourselves in pink!

[Neurotic] pride is both so vulnerable and so precious that it also must be protected in the future. The neurotic may build an elaborate system of avoidances in the hope of circumventing future hurts. This too is a process that goes on automatically. He is not aware of wanting to avoid an activity because it might hurt his pride. He just avoids it, often without even being aware that he is. The process pertains to activities, to associations with people, and it may put a check on realistic strivings and efforts. If it is widespread it can actually cripple a person's life. He does not embark on any serious pursuits commensurate with his gifts lest he fail to be a brilliant success. He would like to write or to paint and does not dare to start. He does not dare to approach girls lest they reject him. [...] He withdraws from social contacts lest he be self-conscious. So, according to his economic status, he either does nothing worthwhile or sticks to a mediocre job and restricts his expenses rigidly. In more than one way he lives beneath his means. In the long run this makes it necessary for him to withdraw farther from others, because he cannot face the fact of lagging behind his age group and therefore shuns comparisons or questions from anybody about his work. In order to endure life he must now entrench himself more firmly in his private fantasy-world. But, since all these measures are more a camouflage than a remedy for his pride, he may start to cultivate his neuroses because the neurosis with a capital N then becomes a precious alibi for the lack of accomplishment.

My fingers curl through the holes in the wicker, through the wet grass beneath it, trying to hold tight to the sharp blades of the present. Somewhere in my brain a sinkhole is bubbling over, and each bubble contains a scene from a tiny sunken world ... I have never been the prophet of my own past before. It makes me wonder how the healthy dreamers can bear to sleep at all, if sleep means that you have to peer into that sinkhole by yourself. ... I had almost forgotten this occipital sorrow, the way you are so alone with the things you see in dreams.

On her last visit, the girl stole one of his family photographs right out of the frame. He thinks this means she is starting to care about him, too. Now whenever he looks at the empty frame, Sawtooth is moved to tears. He has to stare straight up at the ceiling, a loophole that prevents fluid from falling out of the eyes, thus saving a man the embarrassment of crying like a damn fool infant.

Jane exerts what little control she has as an otherwise politically and socially powerless woman of no means through her voice of sensitivity and longing and sharp wit. As she finds her voice, Jane’s journey to selfhood is assisted by her resisting the natural temptation to become like the people whose love she desires but does not receive. She refuses to become like her cruel aunt or her tyrannical cousin John or her spoiled girl cousins. Yet, at the same time, like any little child, she wishes to be loved by them.

Don’t you want someone to adore you, too?” “I don’t know. Fans love you. That’s not what you mean, though, is it?” She shook her head. “I’m not really sure I believe in all that, but if I can find the right girl someday, one who understands my needs and what’s important to me and what I do, one who can stand behind me no matter what . . .” He shrugged. “Maybe.” “How about a girl who stands beside you?” The corner of his mouth quirked up. “Oh, I get it—women’s studies minor, right?” She laughed. “Not exactly.” “Okay. Guess you’re right. That might be better.

Allyn Ferguson, who worked with the Carpenters in the early 1970s, witnessed the downhill slide of many artists, even legends like Elvis Presley and Frank Sinatra. “It happens to everybody,” he says. “It has nothing to do with the people themselves. They’re doing the same thing they always did. The public gets tired of them. It’s a strange thing how the American public is not only fickle, but they respond to a lot of different things that are not musical at all, like the publicity and the attention that everybody’s giving them. It’s like a mob mentality. When the idol starts to have the image disappear, American fans just move on to the next one. That’s a part of show business. We have a great term in showbiz—everybody’s a ‘star fucker,’ which means if you’re not a star anymore everybody just turns their back. It’s very fleeting, and there are tragedies. I think Karen was one of those tragedies, and I could name dozens of other people who can’t deal with the fact that it’s not like it used to be.

Sitting in our parked car, I filled my mom in on the day Allison had tried to warn me about the other MHUCA kids. “I didn’t know what she was trying to tell me, so I completely ignored her,” I said. “Then those kids came running up to the fence swearing at me and scared the hell out of me.” “And she actually remembered you when she saw you in the lunchroom later?” Mom put her key in the ignition, but didn’t start the engine. I guess neither of us was in a hurry to leave just yet. “Yeah, that’s what she said. Pretty amazing that she was able to pick me out of the crowd.” Really amazing, if I thought about it. All I’d done was walk past a fence and laugh at a boy in the cafeteria, and because of those two things I wound up saving a girl’s life. You never really know what a difference you can make in someone’s life, if you’re willing to let them in. “I almost lost it when she said she missed her mom,” Gina said. “I mean, you know Grandma

They could have one and you might not know it,” Niki said. “It fits what you saw. A little kid washing dishes late at night. She was probably being punished, and then she got in more trouble for not doing it right.” “No . . . ,” Sharon said, shocked. “I can’t believe someone would treat a child that way.” Niki laughed, a bark of derision. “Believe it. Happens all the time.” “But one that small? I mean, she looked like a little tiny girl.” “Absolutely.” Niki’s eyes narrowed. “I could tell you stories.” Sharon could hear Amy’s words echoing in her head. Nikita’s gone through hell. All she needs is a room and a little support. Just someone to be in her corner, to let her know she matters.

Nobody ever says "sweet girl" about someone they were in love with. It's like the whole "we'll still be friends" thing. It means you didn't feel enough.' He was briefly amused. 'So what would I have said if I had been in love with her?' 'You would have looked very serious, and said, "Karen. Complete nightmare," or shut down and gone all "I don't want to talk about it.

My dad's version of the book, the staid, declarative Guide to the Galaxy, is nearly identical, except that the graphics are a matte black, and the same information is listed as Fact #47. I guess that's what growing up means, at least according to to the publishing industry: phosphorescence fades to black and white, and facts cease to be fun.

Want to come over this weekend?’ I asked. ‘I can’t,’ she said. I didn’t like the way she didn’t look up from her phone while she talked. I was sure she was sending messages to Tracey, who, no doubt, was sending similar communiques right back. ‘Why are you being like this?’ I said. ‘What do you mean?’ she said. She smiled a little and bit her lower lip. Her long blond braid dangled on her shoulder. She wouldn’t look me in the eye. ‘I’m not doing anything.’ Something about the coyness in her face felt familiar. In that moment I recalled a pale redhead named Alison who had been Hanna’s best friend before me. This was years earlier, fourth grade, but I remembered the way Alison used to float toward us on the playground sometimes, how Hanna would ignore her while we practiced our tricks on the bars where there was room for only two. ‘I’m so sick of her,’ Hanna would say to me whenever she saw Alison approaching, and then she would look at Alison with the same fake smile that she was now using on me.

KAREN My fist entire doth fit within my mouth, An ’twere circumf’rence of the world entire. Wouldst thou bear witness to the awesome feat?

KAREN An thou can keep the confidence, hear on: I am most nearly psychic, Cady, yea— A fifth sense I possess. CADY —What dost thou mean? KAREN ’Tis almost like I have ESPN. My breasts are like a twin prognosticatrix— Protruding like a pair of weather vanes— And can predict when clouds shall form above To drop sweet rain upon the earth below.

KAREN Alas, Regina, I cannot go out. Cough, cough—I am unwell, as thou canst hear. REGINA Boo, whore.

GRETCHEN I can say little more than I have studied— This question’s out of my part: what art thou? KAREN A mouse, of course, I bid

GRETCHEN I can say little more than I have studied— This question’s out of my part: what art thou? KAREN A mouse, of course, I bid thee see mine ears!

Now, the blond girl tilts her head at us. “We’ve heard all about you.” She stops there, but the tone of her voice says: And when I say all, I mean the one-night-stand father, the failed acting career, the jewelry store accident, the rehab. All of it. It’s kind of impressive, how much subtext she manages to pack into one tiny word. “I’m Katrin Nilsson. I guess you’ve met Brooke, and this is Viv.” She points to the red-haired girl on her left. I should have known. I’ve heard the Nilsson name constantly since I got to Echo Ridge, and this girl has town royalty written all over her. She’s not as pretty as Brooke, but somehow she’s much more striking, with crystal-blue eyes that remind me of a Siamese cat’s. We all murmur hellos, and it feels like some sort of uncomfortable audition. Probably because of the assessing look Katrin keeps giving Ezra and me, as though she’s weighing whether we’re worth her continued time and attention. Most of the hallway is only pretending to be busy with their lockers while they wait for her verdict. Then the bell rings, and she smiles. “Come find us at lunch. We sit at the back table next to the biggest window.” She turns away without waiting for an answer, blond hair sweeping across her shoulders. Ezra watches them leave with a bemused expression, then turns to me. “I have a really strong feeling that on Wednesdays, they wear pink.

each Shakespearean reference is taken from a specific Shakespearean character. These are the characters I paired together: Cady: Miranda in The Tempest. Miranda is an ingenue who has lived most of her life secluded with her father in a remote wilderness, not unlike Cady. (I broke this pairing once, when Cady uses lines borrowed from Hero in Much Ado About Nothing. The quote from Hero was so perfect for the moment that I had to use it. Can you find it?) Janis: Beatrice in Much Ado About Nothing. Beatrice has a caustic, biting wit and a fierce loyalty to her friends. Regina: Kate in Taming of the Shrew. Kate, the titular shrew, starts off the play as a harsh woman with a sharp tongue. Gretchen: Viola in Twelfth Night. Viola, dressing as a man, serves as a constant go-between and wears a different face with each character. Karen: Juliet in Romeo and Juliet. Juliet is the youngest of Shakespeare’s heroines. She is innocent and hopeful. Mrs. Heron: Cleopatra in Antony and Cleopatra. Cleopatra is the regal, intelligent woman who has come from Africa. Mrs. George: Lady Macbeth in Macbeth. Lady Macbeth is one of Shakespeare’s cruelest, most cunning villains. Yes, this is unfair to Amy Poehler’s portrayal of Mrs. George, who is nothing but positive and fun. My thought was that anyone who could raise Regina must be a piece of work. Ms. Norbury: Titania in A Midsummer Night’s Dream. There’s little textual connection here—I just love Tina Fey so much that I thought, “Who could represent her except a majestic fairy queen?

Rutherford arches his neck toward her outstretched hand. Freckles of light float across his patchy hindquarters. He licks the girl’s palm according to a code that he’s worked out: - - - -, which means that he is Rutherford Birchard Hayes, the nineteenth president of the United States of America, and that she should alert the local officials. “Ha-ha!” the girl laughs. “That tickles.