Regina George Quotes

Even quilters have cliques! I can't stop picturing Regina George, fifty years later, instructing her minions that 'On Wednesdays, we wear pink.

One of these was Harry Hay, a young actor and communist who had been performing in Clifford Odets’ play on unionization, Waiting for Lefty, at the Hollywood Guild Theatre. Hay would later become father of the gay rights movement in America, but he was hired to play the organ for the OTO’s Gnostic Mass, having been drawn to the temple through his friendship with Regina Kahl.

Pie?" I narrowed my eyes at her, and then down at the container in her hands, where there were chocolate hand pies lined up in neat rows. The So Sorry Blondies were all gone by then, devoured between me and Paul and the rest of the dive team, and the memory of their deliciousness was too fresh for me to resist another Pepper Evans creation. I took one of the mini pies with a wary hand, just as she pulled out her phone, tapped it a few times, and smirked. I stopped chewing. "Did you just tweet?" I asked, my mouth full of chocolate. Pepper swept her bangs back with her fingers, and this time the gesture was calculated and breezy. "Did I?" I scowled into my phone screen, lowering it under my desk so Mrs. Fairchild wouldn't see. This one was just a GIF of Regina George from Mean Girls--- "Why are you so obsessed with me?" "At least your pie is better than your tweets," I mumbled. But the smirk on Pepper's face only deepened. "Those are from the Big League Burger bargain menu, by the way." My mouth dropped open. Pepper turned her eyes back to her textbook, burying her smirk in it. "Enjoy.

Regina Schrambling is both hero and villain. My favorite villain, actually. The former New York Times and LA Times food writer and blogger is easily the Angriest Person Writing About Food. Her weekly blog entries at gastropoda.com are a deeply felt, episodic unburdening, a venting of all her bitterness, rage, contempt, and disappointment with a world that never seems to live up to her expectations. She hates nearly everything—and everybody—and when she doesn’t, she hates herself for allowing such a thing to happen. She never lets an old injury, a long-ago slight, go. She proofreads her former employer, the New York Times, with an eye for detail—every typo, any evidence of further diminution of quality—and when she can latch on to something (as, let’s face it, she always can), she unleashes a withering torrent of ridicule and contempt. She hates Alice Waters. She hates George Bush. (She’ll still be writing about him with the same blind rage long after he’s dead of old age.) She hates Ruth Reichl, Mario Batali, Frank Bruni, Mark Bittman … me. She hates the whole rotten, corrupt, self-interested sea in which she must swim: a daily ordeal, which, at the same time, she feels compelled to chronicle. She hates hypocrisy, silliness, mendacity. She is immaculate in the consistency and regularity of her loathing.

Regina George was iconic.

I have an inner Regina George. The manipulative, deceitful, belittling queen bee in the movie Mean Girls talks smack, giving my self-esteem Ray Rice beat downs. Don’t judge. I’ll bet you have an inner Regina George, who makes you feel like crap because of your thighs/boyfriend/job/laugh. We all do. Some are just better at silencing their Reginas before she inflicts real damage. My Regina is telling me I am going to lose my job.

La regina si alzò. "E cosa dici del mio furore, lord Stark?" La sua voce era soffice, i suoi occhi gli scrutavano il viso. "Avresti dovuto salire tu sul Trono di Spade. Era già tuo. Jaime mi ha parlato del giorno della caduta di Approdo del Re, di quando l'hai trovato seduto sul trono e di come tu l'abbia costretto ad alzarsi. Quello era il tuo momento. Tutto ciò che dovevi fare era salire quei pochi gradini e sederti. Quale triste errore." "Ho commesso molti più errori di quanti tu possa mai immaginare" ribattè Ned "ma questo non lo è stato." "E invece sì, mio lord" insistè Cersei. "Quando si gioca al gioco del trono, o si vince o si muore. Non esistono terre di nessuno.

Daenerys non ebbe il tempo di dire altro. Il cavaliere l'attirò a sé e premette la sua bocca sulle labbra morbide di lei. Ser Jorah odorava di sudore, di salmastro e di cuoio. Le borchie di ferro della sua tunica affondarono nei seni nudi della regina mentre lui la stringeva a sé. Con una mano la trattenne per le spalle, facendo scendere l'altra lungo la curva della schiena. Daenerys schiuse le labbra, accogliendo la lingua ardente di lui. "La sua barba punge" pensò "ma la sua bocca è dolce.

Ser Gregor, Dunsen, Polliver, Raff Dolcecuore, Messer Sottile e il Mastino. Ser Ilyn, ser Meryn, regina Cersei, re Joffrey." Erano i nomi dell'odio del suo odio.

Ogni notte, Arya ripeteva i loro nomi. «Ser Gregor» sussurrava contro il suo cuscino di pietra «Dunsen, Polliver, Chswyck, Raff Dolcecuore, Messer Sottle e il Mastino. Ser Amory, ser Ilyn, ser Meryn, re Joffrey, regina Cersei.» Quando ancora a Grande Inverno, Arya pregava con sua madre nel tempio e con suo padre nel parco degli dei. Ma non c'erano dei lungo la strada per Harrenhal, e i nomi dell'odio erano le uniche preghiere che le importasse di ricordare. Ogni giorno marciavano, e ogni notte Arya ripeteva i nomi dell'odio.

«Una volta il sommo septon mi disse che quanto pecchiamo, altrettanto finiremo con il soffrire. Se è vero, dimmi tu, lord Eddard... per quale motivo sono sempre gli innocenti a soffrire di più mentre voi potenti giocate al vostro gioco del trono? Pensa a tutto questo, se ne hai la volontà, mentre attendi l'arrivo della regina. E pensa anche a qualcos'altro: il prossimo visitatore potrebbe portarti pane e formaggio e latte di papavero per calmare la tua sofferenza... oppure la testa mozzata di tua figlia Sansa. La scelta, mio buon lord Primo Cavaliere, rimane solamente tua.»

Get in loser we're going shopping.

But it’s fine for Luke to be disloyal to me as a person?” I snorted. “To dump me on my birthday, after having probably cheated on me again? I don’t see anyone giving him grief.” Of course they wouldn’t. He was team captain; practically their god. It was a high school clique dynamic to a T, and he was the ringleader. Then it hit me: Luke was the mean girl of the Bulldogs. He was Regina George. On skates.

Then it hit me: Luke was the mean girl of the Bulldogs. He was Regina George. On skates.

Sansa uscì dalla stanza a testa alta. Un giorno sarebbe stata regina, e le regine non piangono. O per lo meno, non lo fanno dove altri possano vedere.

NORBURY A point well ta’en, Miss George, and likely true: How many of ye here have pers’nally felt Ye have been victimized e’en by Regina?

we were still about as close as Cady Heron and Regina George.

Because hating George is who I am now!" Regina said, slapping her palm on the table to stress the point, and causing Lena to jump. "My anger, my disgust, is everything to me! These past years, I aint gave a damn about hardly nothing. I aint took care of myself, or my house. But I took good care of my hate for my husband. I nurtured it, kept it feeling new, looking shiny. It’s the most well-kept thing I own.

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?