Wingman Quotes

It's ironic that I'd use you for my wingman, when I want to fuck you more than any of the women here.

Mr. Green Sweater looks normal, but his wingman looks hard-core bad boy,” said Vee. "Emits a certain don’t-mess-with-me signal. Tell me he doesn’t look like Dracula’s spawn. Tell me I’m imagining things.

Take responsibility for your own unhappiness. If you don’t love your life, change it.

Aedion yawned—the lousiest attempt at one Rowan had ever seen—and excused himself.

That’s the thing about kindness. You never know how big the ripple is. How one little selfless gesture can make all the difference for the person who receives it.

Hey, is there a female version of wingman? Wingwoman sounds awkward. I’m coining a new phrase: Titcaptain. Tell your friends.

You should go order a sweet roll. Those are to die for. And a carne adovada burrito." His mouth thinned. "Should I order something else to drink?" "Yes! A diet whatever. No! A mocha latte. No!" I held up my hand to put him in pause so I could think. "Yes, a mocha latte." "Are you finished?" he asked, rising to go place his order. He was really hungry. "Yes. No! Yes. I'm good with that. I have a busy afternoon ahead of me, and I need all the energy I can get. And I need you to be my wingman." "This should be interesting," he said, sauntering off like he owned the place. By the time he got back, his fries had disappeared. It was weird.

Russell?” “Yeah! You got my back now?” Russell asks in a sour tone, looking over the railing from the tower above. “’Cuz one of them freaky demon things almost ate me after y’all left!” “A Riser nearly ate you?” Reed asks with humor in his tone “Yeah, whatever—it’s not funny!” he calls down, sounding irritated. “Next time, I want Zee for my wingman.” “That is because I am the ultimate assassin,” Zephyr replies from behind Reed.

Time is such a precious thing. How you spend it, how you waste it. And it becomes even more valuable as the hourglass runs out, because you will never get more of it. I see it every day.

Don’t settle for anything less than a guy who worships the ground you walk on.

Where's Hauk?" "I'm right here." "Not you, Fain. My wingman." "He's in the hallway. You know how he is about explosives." "Yeah, I do, which is why I asked. Send him on a bullshit and long errand across the station. We don't want Grandma freaking out on us." -Darling & Fain

You have to choose the life you want. You have to take action and realize that you create your own destiny by making choices and sticking to them.

But we want more than love. We want a lifelong wingman/wingwoman who completes us and can handle the truth, to mix metaphors from three different Tom Cruise movies.

The baby hiccupped then farted. James laughed. Best wingman ever, and he couldn't even talk.

This is me, asking a risk-taker like you to trust me. To let me love you until I take my last breath. These were my last solo flights. From now on I want to wing everything with you and only you.

Life has no guarantees, but my life has no meaning if you're not in it.

Basically, dating is like climbing a volcano and you never know when it’s going to erupt, dumping molten lava and burning you

Swallowing hard, I shuffle over to him. “Listen…I’m sorry I’ve been such a dick lately. I was…distracted.” “Distracted,” he echoes skeptically. I nod. He keeps staring at me. “My head’s on straight now. Honest.” Garrett peers past me, and although I can’t see Hannah’s face, whatever passes between them causes his broad shoulders to relax. Then he grins and slaps me on the arm. “Well, thank God. Because I was seriously considering promoting Tuck to the number one best friend slot.” “Are you kidding? Big mistake, G. He’s a terrible wingman. Have you seen his beard?” “I know, right?” And just like that, we’re good again. Seriously, chicks need to take a lesson from dudes when it comes to burying the hatchet. We know our shit.

If I promise to marry you, I'll promise to always be the reason you laugh and I promise to try and never be the reason you cry. I promise that I'll always include you in my evil ploys and that I'll always, always be your wingman

Because he kissed like a god. If there was such a thing as a god of kissing.

I'm never going to give in. I'm never going to give up, and I will fight back with every breath I have." - Dionne Warner, seven-time cancer survivor and subject of Never Leave Your Wingman

No, the whole point in me telling you this story is to remind you that we need to manifest our own destiny. I never accepted less than what I deserved ever again. Never ignored a red flag or excused bad behavior. I asked for what I wanted, and I protected those I loved, and I demanded the things I needed, and I had a beautiful life.

Why do people drink? I mean seriously, what's the catch? It makes us crazy, we do stupid things and then we wake up the next day with a headache, a sore stomach and quite possibly, an STD.

You begging me to do things no man has done before ?" His deep, sexy voice dipped to melt-her -panties-off levels.

If there is one thing I am sure of honey, is that you want my business

I just watched this documentary on the mating habits of whiptail lizards and trust me, if those things can make it happen, you can too, my friend.

Somebody told me once that it only takes a few minutes to know if you like someone. That our initial impression is usually the right one. I liked her.

I think you underestimate the sex appeal of a man snuggling a guinea pig.

Heaven is freakin' not ready for me!" - seven-time cancer survivor Dionne Warner in Never Leave Your Wingman

I’d start by laying her down on my bed and undressing her. Slowly. Carefully. So she wiggled and stretched and soft pants escaped her lips. My hands would be all over her. My mouth, too. When she wore nothing but the blue scrap of lace between her legs, I’d take her wrists and cuff her hands to my bedpost.

Corran: "I thought Commander Antilles was in that TIE. I mean it had to be someone as good as him to get you three" Nawara: "Apparently he is that good" Rhysati: "He flew circles around me" Ooryl: "At least you saw him. He caught Ooryl as Ooryl fixed on his wingman. Ooryl is free hydrogen in simspace. That man is very good." Corran: "Sure, but who is he?" Rhysati: "What difference does it make who he is?" Corran: "Rhys, he shot up three of our best pilots, had me dead in space, and he says he's a bit RUSTY!

Lynn looks up at him to see if he's serious. "What?" he asks her. "If anybody is gonna put Carter's head through the wall, it should be me." EJ's eyes snap open, and he scoots away from me slowly. I'll remember this, Wingman!

Time is such a precious thing. How you spend it, how you waste it. And it becomes even more valuable as the hourglass runs out, because you will never get more of it. I see it every day. The panic as the last grains of sand fall.

He just wanted to be near her. Spend enough time with her that her scent stayed on his skin.

Do you want Uncle Troy to kiss your boo-boo, too? He always kisses mine because he says they make them feel all better.

Not that I can’t handle things myself, but since I’ve got you, I may as well use you.

Take responsibility for your own unhappiness, Holly. If you don’t love your life, change it.

Grocery shopping. Troy hated it. Every time he and a couple of the guys went to buy food for the station he was hit on. The produce aisle was especially dangerous. He refused to buy zucchini anymore.

What do you see when you look at me, Mason?" "Everything," he grated out. "I see my whole f*cking world, Daisy, I see all my days, my weeks, and my years. Every season of my life. All spent with you. I see everything I want, need, and desire all wrapped up in you.

No, the whole point in me telling you this story is to remind you that we need to manifest our own destiny.

I need you, Erin. You’re my last hope.

He wanted to dip his head and press featherlight kisses there.Wanted to breathe her in.

He moved against her. Not in a hungry-for- food way, but in a hungry-for-her way.

I’ve got major skills and can definitely hold my own.

I’m buying her flowers every day for the rest of eternity.

The tile aisle is where it’s at. Those guys are ripped and they make good money. Also, they’re good on their hands and knees.

I hope you love your life.

Everyone can see us,” I whisper. “Mhm.” He pulls me into a hug and presses his mouth to my temple in a sweet kiss.

You're actually each other's wingman. You never leave your partner vulnerable." - Graham Warner, husband of fun-loving seven-time cancer survivor Dionne Warner

Or maybe I fell a little in love with her every time I saw her, every time we laughed together or texted or hugged, until I was at full capacity and head over fucking heels for her.

If you wait for the opportunity to wear the fun things you have, you’ll be waiting a while,” she says softly. “Wear what you love whether it’s out on a date or to the grocery store.

You want the guys buying the red tools,” she said, making eye contact with each of us. “Red tools are a green flag.” “Why red?” Mom asked, drying a bowl with a rag. “Those are the expensive, professional ones.” She propped her foot on the edge of Grandma’s bed and did a hamstring stretch. “You could make an exception for a guy with yellow tools if he’s cute enough. But never green. Ever.” “No green,” I said, smacking her foot off the comforter. “Got it.” Mom was shaking her head. “Where did you learn all this?” “I drink iced coffee and I know things.

I don't know how, but it felt like this stranger was a guardian angel. Like the universe, had put him here to be there when i needed him, with his small giant acts of kindness. That's the thing about kindness you never know how big the ripple is. How one little selfless gesture can make all the difference for the person who receives it .

I’m going to go find the astral gate,” she told him, and then set off for the elevating platform. “Look what you did,” the rabbit told Jason as they watched her walk away. “You are terrible with women.” “Says the guy who’s meant to be my wingman.” “I’m an imaginary rabbit!

Aikhenvald saw Véra as a fearless guide to Vladimir on “the poetic path.” She was on every count his champion. The wife of another émigré writer phrased it differently: “Everyone in the Russian community knew who and what you meant when you said ‘Verochka.’ It meant a boxer who went into the fight and hit and hit.

We need to manifest our own destiny. I never accepted less than what I deserved ever again.

Here’s what we’re not gonna do today,” Jillian said. “We’re not gonna cry over some medium-ugly man with a receding hairline who left a four-in-one shampoo in your shower.

Take responsibility for your own unhappiness,

I hope I die like that,” she said. “Or doing what I love.” “Not me. I wanna die doing what I hate. Put me out of my misery, kill me on the stair-stepper.

She makes me needlepoints of Bible verses for Christmas.” Jillian shook her head. “She disposed of a dead guy?

Mom was shaking her head. “Where did you learn all this?” “I drink iced coffee and I know things.

You deserve self-care,” she said, going on. “You deserve to feel good and to look good and to let someone do something for you for a change. Just let me.

I would definitely never accept anything less than what I deserved, ever again.

love isn’t going to come find me in my living room.

You want to know why I don’t touch you?” His blue eyes grow a shade darker. “Because if I start, I won’t stop.

Take responsibility for your own unhappiness. If you don’t love your life, change it.” I hope you love your life. But if you don’t .

Darcy sets the flowers on the kitchen table, admiring them. “So pretty. I love getting flowers.” I’m buying her flowers every day for the rest of eternity.

I think that’s why I was so bitter about Jeb. He wasted my time.

I lift my hand to her mouth. “Open.

I close the bathroom door behind me and suck Darcy’s orgasm off my fingers,

I drink iced coffee and I know things.” Grandma chuckled.

She’s Kit’s ex. She’s off-limits, and she’s her own person who can make her own decisions, but I think about some guy’s hands all over her, and I want to break something.

Taylor, you are like a brother to me. You brought your father into my life, shared your little sister, gave me an extra mom. You helped me set that shed on fire and discover my true calling. You’re my climbing soul mate, my wingman and co-conspirator, and the best buddy a guy could have. I’ve watched you and Lexi from the beginning and know better than anyone else that the two of you were always meant to be. To Lexi and Austin!

Airman’s Creed I am an American Airman. I am a Warrior. I have answered my Nation's call. I am an American Airman. My mission is to fly, fight, and win. I am faithful to a proud heritage, A tradition of honor, And a legacy of valor. I am an American Airman. Guardian of freedom and justice, My nation's sword and shield, Its sentry and avenger, I defend my country with my life. I am and American Airman. Wingman, Leader, Warrior. I will never leave an Airman behind, I will never falter, And I will not fail.

of the ready green on a blue felt top. The gentlemen who had assembled around it for an evening of high-stakes Hold ’Em were well dressed, well fed, and well heeled, but now their mouths hung loose and their poolside tans paled. “Hands on the table, guys,” Jadick said. “And don’t any of you act one-armed.” A short man with an air of compact power, Jadick moved with brisk precision and spoke calmly. He pulled back the hammers on his archaic but awesome weapon and said, “Scoop the fuckin’ manna, boys.” “Check,” said Dean Pugh. He and Cecil Byrne, his fellow Wingman, went slowly around the table

There’s a pizza place I want you to try, Ciccio’s. You heard of it?” “We can get good pizza on Fifth.” “No, you have to try this place, Matt. It’s phenomenal.” “What’s phenomenal, the pizza or the staff?” Since my divorce a few years ago, Scott—boss, friend, and eternal bachelor—had high hopes that I’d become his permanent wingman. It was impossible to talk him out of anything, especially when it involved women and food. “You got me. You have to see this girl. We’ll call it a work meeting. I’ll put it on the company card.” Scott was the type who talked about women a lot and about porn even more. He was severely out of touch with reality. “I’m sure this qualifies as sexual harassment somewhere.

In there, the music was slightly less deafening, so Cara didn’t have to yell when she said, “Holy crap, are you okay? I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to abandon you. I thought you were dancing alone and then I turned around and they had their dirty paws all over you and—” “Cara.” Meg grabbed her hands and gave them a squeeze. “Cara, I’m good. They asked to dance. I said yes. It’s good.” “They…” If anything, Cara’s eyes went wider. “Oh shit, I am the worst wingwoman in the history of wingwomen. You were getting busy, weren’t you? Look at you, you’re all flushed.” She laughed and leaned against the counter. “God, I thought you were freaked out and couldn’t escape and that’s why you looked like that. But it was lust.” She gave Meg a playful smack. “Get it, girl!

We eat in silence for a few minutes, and then Alexandra says, “That reminds me. Matthew, could you escort me to a charity dinner the second Saturday in December? Steven is going to be out of town.” She looks toward me. “I would ask my darling brother to do it, but we all know he spends his Saturday nights with the city slu—” she glances at her daughter “—undesirables.” Before Matthew can answer, Mackenzie puts her two cents in. “I don’t think Uncle Matthew can come, Momma. He been too busy bein’ pussy whipped. Wha’s pussy whipped, Daddy?” As soon as the words leave her angelic little lips, a horrendous chain reaction is set off: Matthew chokes on the black olive in his mouth, which flies out and nails Steven right in the eye. Steven doubles over, holding his eye and yelling, “I’m hit! I’m hit!” and then goes on about how the salt from the olive juice is eating away at his cornea. My father starts coughing. George stands up and begins pounding on his back while asking no one in particular if he should perform the Heimlich. Estelle knocks over her glass of red wine, which quickly seeps into my mother’s lace tablecloth. She makes no move to clean up the mess, but instead chants, “Oh, my goodness. Oh, my goodness.” My mother runs around the dining room like a chicken with its head cut off, searching for non-cloth napkins to wipe up the stain, all the while assuring Estelle that everything’s fine. And Frank…well…Frank just keeps eating. While the chaos continues around us, Alexandra’s death-ray glare never wavers from Matthew and me. After squirming under it for about thirty seconds, Matthew caves. “It wasn’t me, Alexandra. I swear to Christ it wasn’t me.” Chicken shit. Thanks, Matthew. Way to leave my ass blowing in the wind. Remind me never to go to war with him as my wingman. But as The Bitch glower is turned full force on me alone, I forgive him. I feel like at any moment I’ll be reduced to a smoking pile of Drew ash on the chair. I dig deep and give her the sweetest Baby Brother smile I can manage. Take a look. Is it working? I’m so fucking dead. See, there’s one thing about Bitch Justice you should know. It’s swift and merciless. You won’t know when it’s coming; all you can be certain of is that it will come. And when it does, it will be painful. Very, very painful.

Last year, we spent thirteen hours playing Frisbee golf, ate a steak dinner, and then I wing-manned for her at the bars so she could get laid.

Some people think that Greg is a little crazy. He has long hippie hair, eccentric homemade clothing, is always carrying Wingman - who he refers to as his guru - and speaks slowly and incredibly calmly in sometimes cryptic sentences. But not one had shown me more unconditional kindness, generosity and understanding. No one has taught me more about myself and endlessly shows me new ways to find the light. Greg would argue that he taught me nothing. He was just a witness.

Every pilot needs a wingman

I drink iced coffee and I know things.

Time is such a precious thing. How you spend it, how you waste it. And it becomes even more valuable as the hourglass runs out, because you will never get more of it.

Blousy tops and flowy skirts. Jillian brought candles she’d made and Nadia Cakes cupcakes, Mom simmered pasta sauce, and we watched Grandma slowly decline.

I was going to miss her so much. I wasn’t ready. My job was to help others be ready, but I couldn’t do it for myself.

She opened her eyes again. “Oh, it’s not on my chest. I’d do it all over again. He’d have killed me. No, the whole point in me telling you this story is to remind you that we need to manifest our own destiny. I never accepted less than what I deserved ever again. Never ignored a red flag or excused bad behavior. I asked for what I wanted, and I protected those I loved, and I demanded the things I needed, and I had a beautiful life. Got seventy more years of living because I decided not to lay down and die that day when some weak man who deserved a dick guillotine made the choice to hurt me.” She held my gaze for a long, meaningful moment. “Take responsibility for your own unhappiness, Holly. If you don’t love your life, change it.

Stay away from the garden and paint sections,” Jillian said. “The men over there are gay or married.

I felt delirious. Drunk with grief. But also somehow okay. I was going to be okay.

My friends told me I’d been remiss in not asking you out.” “Your friends?” Had he come because his friends had told him to? Hopes crashed and burned on the street. She stomped toward home. “Because I didn’t know how to approach you. I’m not familiar with Earth mating customs,” he said. Earth mating customs? Disappointment evaporated, and her lips twitched with amused understanding. How would an alien know what to do? She’d be clueless on his planet.

She’d never expected to meet an alien in Argent. She would have placed the odds at slightly better than meeting an angel.

Inferno applauded with slow deliberation. “Way to go. Psy is one of the most unflappable ’Topians I’ve ever met. You gonna yank Tigre’s tail next?

At the risk of getting my head snapped off again, I’m getting the impression you wanted to talk to me?” “I do need your help,” he said, relieved Psy had broached the subject. “First, let me apologize for my bad behavior. I shouldn’t have accused you of invading my privacy.” “Apology accepted. How can I help?” “I need you to invade my privacy.

Lucy and I put him in the back of my station wagon. Drove to the river, rolled him into the water. I called the sheriff the next day and told him my husband went drinking and never came home. They found him a few weeks later. Called it an accident. They thought he probably fell off a bridge or something.

Are you jackasses going to let me finish or no?” “Fine, go,” Nazem says, waving his hand in permission. “We get a pet tiger. A nameless pet tiger.” I snicker under my breath. “Anyway,” Beckett continues, “this tiger is great. Round the clock protection, top-notch wingman because all the chicks want to rub his ears or whatever. Basically, he’s a net positive in your life.” “But…?” Shane asks, because there’s always a but in these things. “But for three hours every day, you have to hear him bitch,” Beckett finishes. “About what?” Rand asks curiously, pulling his jersey over his chest protector. “About everything. I’m talking the most mundane, trivial, petty stuff.” Beckett nods. “Basically, for three hours every day, he turns into Micah’s girlfriend.

to remind you that we need to manifest our own destiny. I never accepted less than what I deserved ever again. Never ignored a red flag or excused bad behavior. I asked for what I wanted, and I protected those I loved, and I demanded the things I needed, and I had a beautiful

I didn’t get days off, and the never-ending caretaking was wearing me down. But I didn’t want days off, I wanted to be with Grandma.

You are a beautiful death goddess, do you hear me? Death goddess. I need that on a T-shirt, I mumbled.

I was always really good at compartmentalizing what I did for a living. I think that was part of my gift. I had the compassion that the duties required, but also the ability to leave it behind the moment I stepped out the door.

Take responsibility for your own unhappiness. If you don’t love your life, change it.” I hope you love your life. But if you don’t . . .

Here’s what we’re not gonna do today,” Jillian said. “We’re not gonna cry over some medium-ugly man with a receding hairline who left a four-in-one shampoo in your shower. You are a beautiful death goddess, do you hear me?