My Ringtone Quotes

I cursed myself not only for forgetting to turn my phone off but for ever thinking that having a rock music ringtone was cool.

A loud song with a thumping beat rang from Jay's pocket. He gave me a goofy grin and began to bop his head back and forth to the rhythm. Oh, no-not the crazy booty dance. “Please don't,” I begged. Jay broke into his funky ringtone dance, shoulders bouncing and hips moving from side to side. People around us stepped away, surprised, then began to laugh and cheer him on. I pressed my fingers against my lips to hide an embarrassed smile. Just as the ringtone was about to end, he gave a little bow, straightened up, and answered the call.

What tipped you off—about Stan, I mean?” I asked. “Couple of things,” Alex replied. “He referred to Blitzen as the dwarf and claimed you hadn’t been in. Knowing how terrified you are of Sam—” “I am not!” “—I thought it was unlikely you’d skipped the shopping spree. So, I tested his story and called your phone. When I heard my ringtone, I knew he was lying about you being here. But the biggest clue? He refused to sell me anything. I mean, come on.” He gestured to his pink cashmere sweater vest and tight lime-green pants. “A real clothing salesman would have seen dollar signs the minute I walked into the store.

Passersby looked at us curiously. In the porch, Mr. Whitman held the church door open for us. “Hurry up, please,” he said. “We don’t want to attract attention.” No, sure, there was nothing likely to attract attention in two black limousines parking in North Audley Street in broad daylight so that men in suits could carry the Lost Ark out of the trunk of one of the cars, over the sidewalk, and into the church. Although from a distance the chest carrying it could have been a small coffin . . . The thought gave me goose bumps. “I hope at least you remembered your pistol,” I whispered to Gideon. “You have a funny idea of what goes on at a soiree,” he said, in a normal tone of voice, arranging the scarf around my shoulders. “Did anyone check what’s in your bag? We don’t want your mobile ringing in the middle of a musical performance.” I couldn’t keep from laughing at the idea, because just then my ringtone was a croaking frog. “There won’t be anyone there who could call me except you,” I pointed out. “And I don’t even know your number. Please may I take a look inside your bag?” “It’s called a reticule,” I said, shrugging and handing him the little bag. “Smelling salts, handkerchief, perfume, powder . . . excellent,” said Gideon. “All just as it should be. Come along.” He gave me the reticule back, took my hand, and led me through the church porch. Mr. Whitman bolted the door again behind us. Gideon forgot to let go of my hand once we were inside the church, which was just as well, because otherwise I’d have panicked at the last moment and run away.

He pushes in then, slowly, deeply, stroking a chord inside of me. My breath hitches. Oh God. "I love that sound," he whispers, his voice gritty. "It's the best music in the world." I wrap my arms around him. "Maybe that should be your ringtone, then." He laughs, his face nuzzled into my neck. "That wouldn't work." "Why?" "Because others would hear it. That sound belongs only to my ears.

The ring-tone on one of my phones is the song: "Have you been to Jesus for the cleansing Blood, are you washed in the Blood of the Lamb..." One day, I was sitting somewhere and the phone rang; before I could answer the call, a woman had started to manifest and a strange voice spoke from her mouth, screaming: "Stop that music, stop that music!" The demon in her was affected by the song, because of the power in the Blood of Jesus. 19. Virtue-restoring power. 20. Burden-removingpower. 21. Bondage-destroying power: When you plead the Blood of Jesus into any situation, it will eventually bow. Many people do not understand the overcoming weapons that they have in the word of God. The Bible says: "And they overcame him by the Blood of the Lamb, and by the word of their testimony." Today, you will watch that Blood in display, if you will pray the prayers I am suggesting below, from your heart. That Blood was not shed in vain; it was shed for forgiveness, deliverances, protection, etc. You would be cheating yourself, if you do not use that facility. A 26 year old sister, who was looking like an old woman, heard a message like this and decided to use it. She locked herself up for three days, pleading the Blood of Jesus into her situation. By the time she came out, her correct body, shape, face, had been restored to her. She now looked

Kingsley’s phone begins to ring, and her ringtone almost makes me grin. It has Lake and Falcon chuckling. ‘It’s your daddy calling, and you know he’s gonna chew your ear off. It’s your daddy calling, all you’re gonna hear is blah, blah, blah, blah, blah.’ “Hey, Dad,” she answers. “No, we came back early.” She smiles. “Yeah, it was okay.” She leans back against the couch and catches me watching her. I glance away as she continues, “No, nothing happened. We just felt like coming back before the other students.” After a short silence, she quickly rambles, “Someone’s knocking at the door. Gotta go. Love you, Dad.” She hangs up and pulls a worried face at the phone. “That was close.” “You’re not telling your father about the avalanche?” I ask. “There’s no need to worry him about something that’s done and dealt with,” she brushes it off. Changing the subject, Layla asks, “Which ringtone do you have for me?” “Oh!” Instantly the frown vanishes, and Kingsley grins at Layla. “You’re going to love it.” A moment later ‘You are my sunshine,’ comes from the phone. “Aww… thanks, my friend,” Layla coos. Lake leans over the back of the chair. “And me?” Kingsley looks at him from over her shoulder. “Have you heard of Lucas, the spider?” “Yeah.” “You have Lucas.” Kingsley presses play, and then you hear, ‘What you eating? I’m starving.’ “That’s perfect,” Falcon chuckles. “Now I have to hear mine.” “One sec.” Kingsley scrolls to his name and then I let out a bark of laughter. “You have a call from God. Haa-llelujah! Haa-llelujah!” “Badass,” Falcon grins, obviously happy with it. “This is Mason’s.” Kingsley grins mischievously, which tells me I’m not going to like it. Then a butler’s serious voice sounds up, ‘Excuse me, but I’m afraid someone is endeavoring to contact you telephonically. Shall I tell them to fuck off?’ Lake cracks up, disappearing behind the couch which doesn’t help shit seeing as I can hear the fucker laughing his ass off.

This is the definition of peace. The definition is interrupted by Toraf's ringtone. Why did Rachel get Toraf a phone? Does she hate me? Fumbling behind him in the sand, Galen puts a hand on it right before it stops ringing. He waits five seconds and...Yep, he's calling again. "Hello?" he whispers. "Galen, it's Toraf." Galen snorts. "You think?" "Rayna's ready to leave. Where are you?" Galen sighs. “We’re on the beach. Emma’s still sleeping. We’ll walk back in a few minutes.” Emma braved her mom’s wrath by skipping curfew again last night to be with him. Grom’s mating ceremony is tomorrow, and Galen and Rayna’s attendance is required. He’ll have to leave her in Toraf’s care until he gets back. “Sorry, Highness. I told you, Rayna’s ready to go. You have about two minutes of privacy. She’s heading your way. “The phone disconnects. Galen leans down and sweeps his lips over her sweet neck. “Emma,” he whispers. She sighs. “I heard him,” she groans drowsily. “You should tell Toraf that he doesn’t have to yell into the phone. And if he keeps doing it, I’m going to accidentally break it.” Galen grins. “He’ll get the hang of it soon. He’s not a complete idiot.” At this, Emma opens one eye. He shrugs. “Well, three quarters maybe. But not a complete one.” “Are you sure you don’t want me to come with you?” she says, sitting up and stretching. “You know I do. But I think this mating ceremony will be interesting enough without introducing my Half-Breed girlfriend, don’t you think?” Emma laughs and pulls her hair to one side, draping it over her shoulder. “This is our first time away from each other. You know, as a couple. We’ve only been really dating for two weeks now. What will I do without you?” He pulls her to him, leaning her back against his chest. “Well, I’m hoping that this time when I come back, it won’t be to the sight of you kissing Toraf.” The snickers beside them let them know their two minutes of privacy are up. “Yeah. Or someone’s gonna die,” Rayna says cordially. Galen helps Emma up and swats the leftover sand out of her sundress. He takes her hands into his. “Could I please just ask one thing without you getting all mad about it?” She scowls. “Let me guess. You don’t want me to get in the water while you’re gone.” “But I’m not ordering you to stay out of it. I’m asking, no begging, very politely, and with all my heart for you not to get in. It’s your choice. But it would make me the happiest man-fish on the coast if you wouldn’t.” They sense the stalker almost daily now. That and the fact that Dr. Milligan blew his theory about Emma’s dad being a Half-Breed out of the water makes Galen more nervous than he can say. It means they still don’t have any answers about who could know about Emma. Or why they keep hanging around. Emma rewards him with a breathtaking smile. “I won’t. Because you asked.” Toraf was right. I just had to ask. He shakes his head. “Now I can sleep tonight.” “That makes one of us. Don’t stay gone too long. Or Mark will sit by me at lunch.” He grimaces. “I’ll hurry.” He leans down to kiss her. Behind them, he hears Rayna’s initial splash. “She’s leaving without you,” Emma whispers on his lips. “She could have left hours ago and I’d still catch her. Good-bye, angelfish. Be good.” He places a forceful kiss on her forehead, then gets a running start and dives in. And he misses her already.

Suddenly his ringing cell phone brought him out of his deep thoughts. Los already knew who it was from the ringtone. He reached over snatching the phone up quickly to avoid waking Lucky. “Nice what’s good?” “What’s good is I just came from Mom Dukes crib and caught her and Aunt V scrapping on some WorldStar shit Bruh.” “What? Yo is you serious?” Los said rising from his back trying to ease from under Lucky without waking her. “Los listen that shit was crazy, Mom was beaten the breaks off V man. I broke that mess up and Mom was still tryna get at her. V wig ended up all cocked to the side like it was on its gangsta lean, Momz went savage on V had her leakin and everything.” “What?!” Los asked getting hyped and jumping out of bed when he heard blood was drawn. He knew his brother had the tendency to hype shit up in order to make things more entertaining but Nice sounded dead ass. “Where you at right now?” Los asked. “On my way back out to Momz crib.” “Man I’ma meet you out there, I’m on my way to check on her and find out what’s goin on.” “Say no more Bruh I’ll see you out there,” Nice responded before hanging up.

I was going to yell my lungs out when I got to her for pulling this kind of shit. Once I got to the location, I called her number again and again, trying to reach her. I called maybe thirty times before I heard the faint sound of a ringtone and found her cell in a dumpster among cardboard, junk food leftovers and cigarette butts. Desperation and distress coursed through my veins. I kicked the dumpster so hard, I left a dent. “Fuck, fuck, fuck!” I yelled, not caring about people around me watching my very public meltdown. She hadn’t run away. Wouldn’t run away. I knew my lovebird—she was the fighting kind. The only running she’d ever do was to get her cardio fix. No, this was not her trying to break free. This was him trying to get even. It was the moment I realized that, for the first time, Brock was one step ahead of me.

Don’t pull away from me,” I say. Because right now, I can’t handle her absence. I need her in every way she needs me. “But it’s Cinita’s ringtone. Don’t you—” “I’m where I’m meant to be, Lena,” I insist, and I see something shift in her. I’m exactly where I need to be. It’s the first time in my life I’ve ever felt this way. And it’s all because of her.

Why is “Sexy Back” blaring out of my phone? Well, because a very obnoxious hockey player programmed it in as his ringtone,

The vibrating was then followed by Adele’s Chasing Pavements. I had that as my ringtone, and it seemed fit to my life.

Max: I just mean, there was basically always a dream you, of course. But to think that only a few months ago you didn't really exist. You were just thsi person I looked forward to seeing every night and hated saying. good-bye to. You were my secret. My dream girl. Alice: Say that last part again? Max: I've said it a million times before. I should record it for you on your phone. Alice: That's actually a great idea. It could be my ringtone! Max: Alice, I was kidding.

From inside the Contuzzi apartment I heard the phone ring. Once, twice, three times. “Bolitar?” It stopped after six rings. “We know you’re still in London. Where are you?” I hung up and looked at Mario’s door. The ringing phone—ringing like a phone used to, not like some ringtone on a cell—had sounded very much like a landline. Hmm. I put my hand on the door. Thick and sturdy. I pressed my ear against the cool surface, hit Mario’s cell phone number, watched the LCD display on my mobile. It took a moment or two before the connection went through. When I heard the faint chime of Mario’s cell phone through the door—the landline had been loud; this was not—dread flooded my chest. True, it may be nothing, but most people nowadays do not travel even the shortest of distances, including bathroom visits, without the ubiquitous cell phone clipped or carried upon their person. You can bemoan this fact, but the chances that a guy working in television news would leave his cell phone behind while heading to his office seemed remote. “Mario?” I shouted. I started pounding on the door. “Mario?” I didn’t expect him to answer, of course. I pressed my ear against the door again, listening for I’m not sure what—a groan maybe. A grunt. Calling out. Something. No sound. I wondered about my options. Not many. I reared back, lifted my heel, and kicked the door. It didn’t budge. “Steel-enforced, mate. You’ll never kick it down.” I turned toward the voice. The man wore a black leather vest without any sort of shirt underneath, and sadly, he didn’t have the build to pull it off. His physique, on too clear a display, managed to be both scrawny and soft. He had a cattle-ring piercing in his nose. He was balding but the little hair he had left was done up in what might be called a comb-over Mohawk. I placed his age at early fifties. It looked like he had gone out to a gay bar in 1979 and had just gotten home. “Do you know the Contuzzis?” I asked. The man smiled. I expected another dental nightmare, but while the rest of him might be in various stages of decay, his teeth were gleaming. “Ah,” he said. “You’re an American.” “Yes.” “Friends with Mario, are we?” No reason to go into a long answer here: “Yes.” “Well, what can I tell you, mate? Normally they’re a quiet couple, but you know what they say—when the wife’s away, the mouse will play.

I was about to answer when I was interrupted by the sound of Beethoven’s Fifth Symphony coming from my pocket. “That’s my editor,” I said. “Like the ringtone?” “Remind me to download you some LL Cool J.” “That’s, what, a drink or something?” Tee just shook his head and muttered, “White people.

My phone buzzes in my purse, so I dig it out. I have ringtones for just about everyone. So the minute the first strands of Justin Bieber's "Baby" starts, it makes my smile grow. "Who do you hate enough to give them that ringtone?" Jude asks. "Never you mind," I mutter, still smiling as I silence it and glance at the text.

Hey," Arnold shot Hector a small glare. "Emma's worth every second of my time. She's the only girl for me. There's not anyone else who could hold a candle to her." "That's nice," said Hector as Emma hid behind a row of lockers while the two boys walked by. "It's great to have unrealistic and dangerously high expectations. Maybe, I should make 'High Hopes' your ringtone." "Just keep it up, Hec," Arnold grinned as he shook his head. "I'm just saying that you need to keep your options open until you know it's a sure thing." "Like you and Pria?" "Exactly, like Pria and me! We're soulmates, y'know? Reincarnated lovers from eons ago in vain of Romeo and Juliet." "You're a total spaz. You know that, right?" "Hector Spazz Ramirez. I like the sound of that. Y'know what also has a nice ring to it?" "What?" "Mrs. Pria Spazz Ramirez! You think I should run that by her later?" "Definitely go for it. Put a ring on it." "But should I do it before or after French Class?" "See? Now, I can't tell if you're still joking." "Oh, I am." "Thank goodness." "Or am I? I really don't know anymore.

was back in my room, about to change out of my bikini when my phone rang. It was Steven’s ringtone, a Taylor Swift song he pretended to hate but secretly loved.

I was back in my room, about to change out of my bikini when my phone rang. It was Steven’s ringtone, a Taylor Swift song he pretended to hate but secretly loved.

The music was at a quiet moment in between songs. Then somewhere in the crowd I heard it. The bird squawk ringtone. It happened once and then again, just like in the woods. I turned, scouring the room to see Mr. Mac pick his phone out of his pocket and answer it. I eyed his mouth as he was talking, his thin lips moving quietly into the phone. How had I missed how thin his lips were? His eyes shot over to me, seeing the recognition on my face. He turned to leave the gym quickly. “Shane—it’s Mr. Mac. It’s him! He’s the rapist,” I shouted, pointing. The room began to spin in confusion as Shane ran and tackled the fleeing teacher. “You son of a bitch.” He held him facedown on the hard floor

A ringtone started deep in my diaper bag. We both turned to stare at it. Vero drew her sunglasses down her nose. “Holy shit. I think you just manifested dessert.” I took a step back. “I’m on a diet.