Dear 16 Year Old Me Quotes

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“What a madly gay little wine, my dear!" M. Cliquot said, repressing, but not soon enough, a grimace of pain. "One would say a Tavel of a good year," I cried, "if one were a complete bloody fool." I did not say the second clause aloud. My old friend looked at me with a new respect. He was discovering in me a capacity for hypocrisy that he had never credited me with before.”
— A.J. Liebling —

“What a madly gay little wine, my dear!" M. Cliquot said, repressing, but not soon enough, a grimace of pain.
"One would say a Tavel of a good year," I cried, "if one were a complete bloody fool." I did not say the second clause aloud.
My old friend looked at me with a new respect. He was discovering in me a capacity for hypocrisy that he had never credited me with before.”

— A.J. Liebling

“He welcomes the chance to do fatherly things with the little girl, and those ten morning minutes with dear little four-year-old Ruby, with her deep soulful eyes, and the wondrous things she sees with them, and her deep soulful voice, and the precious though not entirely memorable things she says with it, and the smell of baby shampoo and breakfast cereal filling the car, that little shimmering capsule of time is like listening to cello music in the morning, or watching birds in a flutter of industry building a nest, it simply reminds you that even if God is dead, or never existed in the first place, there is, nevertheless, something tender at the center of creation, some meaning, some purpose and poetry.”

— Scott Spencer

“She did an excellent job, dear. We have a new water heater now. A waterless water heater. I plan to examine it tomorrow."
"No!" his entire family said, making him jump.
Even the granddaughter on his lap looked up into his face and said with the solemn wisdom of a four-year-old, "Don't, Grandpa.”

— Shelly Laurenston

“Big lots,' I said, seeing the eighty-year-old oaks and shady lawns. The houses were set way back and had iron fences and stone drives.
The harder to hear your neighbors scream, my dear,' was David's answer, and I sent my head up and down in agreement.”

— Kim Harrison

“Dear five-year-old, What the fuck is wrong with you? Normal children don't have dead imaginary friends. Normal children don't pick open every single one of their chicken pox scabs and then stand naked and bleeding in the darkened doorway to their bedroom until someone walks past and asks what they are doing. Furthermore, normal children don't respond by saying, "I wanted to know what all my blood would look like." Normal children also don't watch their parents sleep from the corner of the room. Mom was really scarred by The Exorcist when she was younger, and she doesn't know how to cope with your increasingly creepy behavior. Please stop. Please, please stop.”

— Allie Brosh

“Dear 25 year old [note: not "Dear 25-year-old me" or "Dear 25-year-old self," just "Dear 25 year old"],”

— Allie Brosh

“This year, as we celebrate the 230th anniversary of America's independence, please remember the symbols that are sacred to this country. Fly Old Glory high and show your respect and admiration for this great nation and the values we hold dear.”

— Kenny Marchant

“As she drove the familiar route to the school, she considered her magnificent new age. Forty. She could still feel "forty" the way it felt when she was fifteen. Such a colorless age. Marooned in the middle of your life. Nothing would matter all that much when you were forty. You wouldn't have real feelings when you were forty, because you'd be safely cushioned by your frumpy forty-ness.
Forty-year-old woman found dead. Oh dear.
Twenty-year-old woman found dead. Tragedy! Sadness! Find that murderer!”

— Liane Moriarty

“Write it on your heart
that every day is the best day in the year.
He is rich who owns the day, and no one owns the day
who allows it to be invaded with fret and anxiety.
Finish every day and be done with it.
You have done what you could.
Some blunders and absurdities, no doubt crept in.
Forget them as soon as you can, tomorrow is a new day;
begin it well and serenely, with too high a spirit
to be cumbered with your old nonsense.
This new day is too dear,
with its hopes and invitations,
to waste a moment on the yesterdays.”

— Ralph Waldo Emerson

“When I was playing Gandalf, I didn't think, 'Oh my dear, I'm playing a 7,000 year old wizard,' because I've never met one, and I don't know what they're like.”

— Ian Mckellen

“Comes again the longing, the desire that has no name. Is it for Mrs. Prouty, for a drink, for both: for a party, for youth, for the good times, for dear good drinking and fighting comrades, for football-game girls in the fall with faces like flowers? Comes the longing and it has to do with being fifteen and fifty and with the winter sun striking down into a brick-yard and on clapboard walls rounded off with old hard blistered paint and across a doorsill onto linoleum. Desire has a smell: of cold linoleum and gas heat and the sour piebald bark of crepe myrtle. A good-humored thirty-five-year-old lady takes the air in a back lot in a small town.”

— Walker Percy

“All these things, and a thousand like them, came to pass in and close upon the dear old year one”

— Charles Dickens

“I get an abundance of e-mail every day, some say 'dear Richard, can you call my husband, he weighs 400 pounds ... ' or 'my 14-year-old is 200 pounds ... ' or 'I just got divorced, no one wants me, I am 500 pounds.' So I pick up the phone and I call people.”

— Richard Simmons

“Don't talk so, Lysis. I'm sure you kept your head much better than I did." He smiled, and quoted a certain phrase, recalling a personal matter between us. Then he said, "Am I getting old, to find myself always thinking, 'Last year was better'?"-"Sometimes it seems to me, Lysis, that nothing has been the same since the Games."-"We think so, my dear, because that was our concern. If you asked that potter over there, or that old soldier, or Kallippides the actor, each would name his own Isthmia, I daresay ... It has been a long war, Alexias. Twenty-four years now. Even Troy was only ten.”