S. Jones Quotes
Somebody has to be sane during regular business hours, and it's not going to be me, missy.
It would be a miracle to solve this case. Luckily, I believed in miracles. No, wait, that was testicles. I believed in testicles.
I totally take back all those times I didn't want to nap when I was younger. - T-SHIRT
The dead guy looked at me with wide eyes. “I can’t move my legs.” I snorted. “You can’t move your arms either, or your feet or your freaking eyelids. You’re dead.
I did that thing where you scratch your eyebrow and flip someone off at the same time. I'm good at multitasking like that.
I do not," I felt oddly appalled by her statement. "I'm an excellent liar. Ask my dentist. He swears I floss regularly.
Have they even seen the Winchester boys? Sammy and Dean's existence proves there is a god and she is a woman.
They were back. The demons in all their glory. And they had a plan. I made plans sometimes, too, but they rarely involved world domination. Hot dogs on a grill, maybe. Tequila.
My prodding me didn't elicit a reaction. His unseeing eyes stared straight through me. Which was odd. He'd seemed so sane huddled in Cookie's trunk.
Rocket," I said, straightening in the chair. "Donovan was just helping me with my contacts." Donovan raised his brows humorously. Rocket furrowed his. "Did you swallow them?
Does your uncle need anything? A coffee? A latte?” “He needs someone to bear his illegitimate child if you’re interested
I noticed you tore down Donovan's house." He lifted his gaze until it locked with mine. "He's alive because he left town. His house chose to stay. It paid the price.
Honestly, he acted as though he didn't like me anymore. Wait, maybe he didn't. "Do you still like me?" "I never liked you." Oh, right. He had a point. Garreth & Charley
This guy in high school tried to run me over with his dad’s SUV. Bad shoved the vehicle through a store window.” The memory brought a smile to my face.
Where you just possessed?" Cookie asked after a long moment, awe softening her voice. "'Cause let me tell you, sweetheart, if that was possession, I'm selling my soul.
After a geological epoch passed in which single-celled organisms evolved into talk show hosts, Mr. Coffee was still holding out on me.
I suck at all this supernatural stuff. But I fry a mean chicken. Oh, good. I hate it when the nice ones get fried.
Nobody wants to look like a fool. Nine times out of ten, that reason alone keeps people from allowing themselves to believe.
I'd never taken to four foot creatures who had the uncanny ability to point out all my flaws in thirty second flat. And just for the record, I can too read without moving my lips.
You totally need to watch the news." "Can't." "Why?" "It's too depressing." "Right, because hanging with dead people isn't.
Want coffee?" I asked, as I headed that way. "It's three thirty in the morning." "Okay. Want coffee?
I had yet to be a mother, but I would have thought it difficult to forget something it took thirty-seven hours of excruciating pain to push out from between my legs ~Charley Davidson
No, no, no, no, no. Anything but murder. Or rape. Or kidnapping. Or armed robbery. Or indecent exposure, ’cause that’s just creepy.
He seemed determines, his resolve unwavering. This would take tact. Prudence. Possible Milk Duds.
You were the one who hit me on the roof? I hit you on the jaw. We just happened to be on a roof at the time.
After a long, labored sigh, I said, “She was really happy when I got there. I’m pretty sure she was suicidal when I left.” “You do have that effect on people.
We really should get some X-rays,” the EMT said. “You just want to fondle my extraneous body parts,” I said to the EMT.
Come here often?' I asked instead, humoring no one but myself. So it was totally worth it.
Try writing an entire story with only a thousand words at your disposal. It’s a terrific lesson in economy and precession.