Jean K Jean Quotes

“Jean smirked and raised an eyebrow at Leor. "Would you like to fly through the Louvre?"
Leor couldn't perceive how that would even be possible. But Jean would inevitably find a way. "No, no!" Leor ardently replied. "Let's just land there and take a walk. Look at some statues, get some air."
"Ah, but do we not have plenty of air, flowing around up here in the skies?" Jean asked, diving down towards the Seine, and then sharply pulling up along one of the slopes.
"Would you like me to vomit again?" Leor asked, with a hand near his mouth.”

— Zechariah Barrett

“I find it most offensive that the character of Reason, whom [Jean den Meun (author of the Romance of the Rose)] himself calls the daughter of God, should put forth such a statement as ... where she says by way of a proverb that "in the war of Love it is better to deceive than be deceived." And indeed I dare say that in making that statement Jean den Meun's Reason denied her Father, for the doctrine He gave was altogether different.”

— Christine De Pizan

“JEAN
I need him like the axe needs the turkey.
HARRINGTON
Don't be vulgar, Jean. Let us be crooked, but never common.”

— Preston Sturges

“Well, make up your mind. I don't have all night." Fidelia set her beer on the porch and removed a set of keys from her skirt pocket. She fumbled with the key, trying to release the trigger lock on her pistol.
"Don't do that," Heather warned her. "You've had too much to drink."
Fidelia snorted. "I'm not drunk. I'm in complete control." She tore off the trigger lock.
Bang! The gun fired, ripping into a nearby oak tree.
The women screamed. Jean-Luc winced.
A squirrel plummeted from the tree and landed in the yard with a thud.
Fidelia shrugged. "I meant to do that. Damned rodent's been gnawing on the house. And stealing all the nuts from our pecan tree."
Heather planted her hands on her hips. "Haven't I told you a million times to keep the locks on?"
Fidelia hung her head, looking properly remorseful. "I'll be more careful." She switched on the safety, then shot Jean-Luc a pointed look. "I know how to deal with a scumbag with nuts.”

— Kerrelyn Sparks

“Jean-Luc glanced at the coach. "Who is that man? What is that machine?"
"It's a dunking booth."
"Ah, I understand." Jean-Luc nodded. "If he dose not drown, then he is a witch"
"No, he's just a creep. It's a game.”

— Kerrelyn Sparks

“[ ... ] without much ardor but quite unmistakably, she was writhing her hips as if she were dancing. When he was very close, he saw' her gaping mouth: she was yawning lengthily, insatiably: the great open hole was rocking gently atop die mechanically dancing body. Jean-Marc thought: she's dancing and she's bored.
He reached the seawall: down below, on the beach, he saw men with their heads thrown back releasing kites into the air. They were doing it with passion, and Jean-Marc recalled his old theory: there are three kinds of boredom: passive boredom: the girl dancing and yawning; active boredom: kite-lovers; and rebellious boredom: young people burning cars and smashing shop windows.”

— Milan Kundera

“Now I think, Jean. Jean! You got your wish! The fire drill is finished, but so is everything else. Did we believe we could pick and choose the parts that passed so quickly? Today, even the boring parts, even when it was freezing outside and half the girls were barefoot- all of it was a long time ago.”

— Curtis Sittenfeld

“My eyes narrowed. "You said it was a brilliant idea."
"I think lots of things are brilliant ideas. Like nuclear weapons, zero-calorie soft drinks, and blue jean vests," he replied. "That doesn't mean we should nuke people, or that diet drinks taste good, or that you should run out to the local Walmart and buy a jean vest. You people shouldn't always listen to me.”

— Jennifer L. Armentrout

“That wouldn't be a first, now would it?"
"Jean."
"Jean Grey is dead, Agent."
"Yeah, that'll last.”

— Joss Whedon

“Jean Louise," he said dryly, "not much more than five per cent of the South's population ever saw a slave, much less owned one. Now, something must have irritated the other ninety-five per cent." Jean Louise looked blankly at her uncle. "Has it never occurred to you-have you never, somewhere along the line, received vibrations to the effect-that this territory was a separate nation? No matter what its political bonds, a nation with its own people, existing within a nation?”

— Harper Lee

“In the dim past, Atticus had owned an old canvas-top touring car, and once when he was taking Jem, Henry, and Jean Louise swimming, the car rolled over a particularly bad hump in the road and deposited Jem without. Atticus drove serenely on until they reached Barker's Eddy, because Jean Louise had no intention of advising her father that Jem was no longer present, and she prevented Henry from doing so by catching his finger and bending it back.”

— Harper Lee

“Had Alexandra ever pressed Jean Louise's vulnerable points with awareness, she could have added another scalp to her belt, but after years of tactical study Jean Louise knew her enemy. Although she could rout her, Jean Louise had not yet learned how to repair the enemy's damage.”

— Harper Lee

“Jean," Locke gasped out during a brief lull between spasms of retching, "next time I conceive a plan like this, consider putting a hatchet in my skull."
"Hardly efficacious." Jean swapped a full bucket for an empty one and gave Locke a friendly pat on the back. "Dulling my nice sharp blades on a skull as thick as yours ...”

— Scott Lynch

“Locke drew in a rasping breath to spew some more damn fool craziness. Jean, with the reflexes that kept him alive when blades were drawn, clamped a hand over Locke's mouth before he could speak and pushed his head back down against his pillow. "I can't agree to anything on Locke's behalf, but I want us to hear your proposal. Tell us what the job is." "It's political," said Patience. "Mmmmph mmph," said Locke, struggling in vain against Jean's arm. "Mmmph fckhnnng fmmmph!" "He wants to hear more," said Jean. "He says he's very excited to hear the whole thing.”

— Scott Lynch

“I lost Susy thirteen years ago; I lost her mother
her incomparable mother!
five and a half years ago; Clara has gone away to live in Europe and now I have lost Jean. How poor I am, who was once so rich! ... Jean lies yonder, I sit here; we are strangers under our own roof; we kissed hands good-by at this door last night
and it was forever, we never suspecting it. She lies there, and I sit here
writing, busying myself, to keep my heart from breaking. How dazzling the sunshine is flooding the hills around! It is like a mockery. Seventy-four years ago twenty-four days. Seventy-four years old yesterday. Who can estimate my age today?”

— Mark Twain

“Not that he had any pleasure in Jean-Christophe's anger; on the contrary, it made him unhappy-but he felt his power by making Jean-Christophe suffer. He was not bad; he had the soul of a girl.”

— Anonymous.

“I've always thought - and I don't even know if I'd be right for the part - that Jean Seberg would make a great biopic. She was in Jean-Luc Godard's 'Breathless,' she played Joan of Arc. She had this eventful and traumatic adulthood, she thought the FBI was after her, and she became a darling of the French New Wave.”

— Gillian Jacobs

“Jean Valjean, who was listening attentively, heard something like the sould of retreating footsteps.
"They are going away," he thought. "I am alone." All at once he heard over his head a noise which appeared to him like a thunder-clap; it was a spadeful of earth falling on the coffin; a second spadeful fell, and one of the holes by which he breather was stopped; a third spadeful fell, and then a forth. "There are somethings stronger than the the strongest man, and Jean Val Jean lost his senses.”

— Victor Hugo

“Jean Valjean disconcerted him. All the axioms which had served him as points of support all his life long, had crumbled away in the presence of this man. Jean Valjean's generosity towards him, Javert, crushed him.”

— Victor Hugo

“One thing had amazed him,-this was that Jean Valjean should have done him a favor, and one thing petrified him,-that he, Javert, should have done Jean Valjean a favor.”

— Victor Hugo

“It was hard to be around Jean because he looked at her and saw what Meg's future would have been if she hadn't been brave enough to run away-and if Jean hadn't been brave enough to stay.”

— Anne Bishop

“As an intense, nicotine-stained, Jean-Paul Sartre sort of man, wasn't it simple logic to expect that he'd be limited to intense, nicotine-stained Jean-Paul Sartre sorts of Women?”

— Richard Yates

“While the others chatted over their parcels Jean wrote her letter, and Jean could write delightful letters. She had a decided talent in that respect, and her correspondents all declared her letters to be things of beauty and joy forever. She”

— L.M. Montgomery

“Your body is yours to protect and to enjoy." She raises both eyebrows at me meaningfully. "Whoever you should choose to partake in that enjoyment, that is your choice, and choose wisely. Every man that ever got to touch me was afforded an honor. A privilege." Stormy waves her hand over me. "All this? It's a privilege to worship at this temple, do you understand my meaning? Not just any young fool can approach the throne. Remember my words, Lara Jean. You decide who, how far, and how often, if ever."
"I had no idea you were such a feminist," I say.
"Feminist?" Stormy makes a disgusted sound in her throat. "I'm no feminist. Really, Lara Jean!"
"Stormy, don't get worked up about it. All it means is that you believe men and women are equal, and should have equal rights."
"I don't think any man is my equal. Women are far superior, and don't you forget it. Don't forget any of the things I just told you.”

— Jenny Han

“Buttering a roll, my dad says, "I like Peter."
"You do?" I say.
Daddy nods. "He's a good kid. He's really taken with you, Lara Jean."
"Taken with me?" I repeat.
To me Kitty says, "You sound like a parrot."
To Daddy she says, "What does that mean? Taken by her?"
"It means he's charmed by her," Daddy explains. "He's smitten."
"Well, what's smitten?" He chuckles and stuffs the roll in Kitty's open, perplexed mouth. "It means he likes her."
"He definitely likes her," Kitty agrees, her mouth full. "He ... he looks at you a lot, Lara Jean. When you're not paying attention. He looks at you, to see if you're having a good time."
"He does?" My chest feels warm and glowy, and I can feel myself start to smile.”

— Jenny Han

“Bags and boxes across the hot parking lot to the van. On the way back to the mall, Willa Jean, who spotted the ice-cream store that sold fifty-two flavors, told her uncle she needed an ice-cream cone. Uncle Hobart agreed that ice-cream cones were needed by all. Inside the busy shop, customers had to take numbers and wait turns. Ramona, responsible for Willa Jean, who could not read, was faced with the embarrassing task of reading aloud the list of fifty-two flavors while all the customers listened. Strawberry, German chocolate, vanilla, ginger-peachy, red-white-and-blueberry, black walnut, Mississippi mud, green bubble gum, baseball nut.”

— Beverly Cleary

“I did not run to him, but I did wrap my arms around him, press my ear to his chest, hold on to him as if he were the last solid thing in the world. He stroked my hair and murmured to me in French. I understood enough to know he was glad to see me and that he thought I looked beautiful. But beyond that it was just pretty noise.
It wasn't until I felt Zerbrowski behind me that I pulled away, but when Jean-Claude's hand found mine, I welcomed it.
Zerbrowski was looking at me as if he'd never seen me before. "What?" It came out hostile.
"I've never seen you be that ... soft with anyone before."
It startled me. "You've seen me kiss Richard before."
He nodded. "That was lust. This is ... " He shook his head, glancing up at Jean-Claude, then back to me. "He makes you feel safe.”

— Laurell K. Hamilton

“I stared at Jean-Claude and it wasn't the beauty of him that made me love him, it was just him. It was love made up of a thousand touches, a million conversations, a trillion shared looks. A love made up of danger shared, enemies conquered, a determination to neither of us would change the other, even if we could. I love Jean-Claude, all of him, because if I took away the Machiavellian plottings, the labyrinth of his mind, it would lessen him, make him someone else.”

— Laurell K. Hamilton

“Do you practice the laugh, or is it a natural talent? Naw, I'm betting you practice."
Jean-Claude's face twisted. I couldn't decide if he was trying not to laugh, or not to frown. Maybe both. I affected some people that way.
The laughter seeped out of her face, very human, until only her eyes sparkled. There was nothing funny about the look in those twinkling eyes. It was the sort of look a cat gives a small bird.
Her voice lifted at the end of each word, a Shirley Temple affectation. "You are either very brave, or very stupid."
"You really need at least one dimple to go with the laugh."
Jean-Claude said softly, "I'm betting on stupid.”

— Laurell K. Hamilton

“They thought I was a vampire, and it had all been an act. I stared at Jean-Claude's smiling face and the matching scars: his chest, my arm. Jean-Claude's hand pulled me down into a bow. As the applause finally began to fade, Jean-Claude whispered, "We need to talk, Anita. Your friend Catherine's life depends on your actions." I met his eyes and said, "I killed the things that gave me this scar." He smiled broadly, showing just a hint of fang. "What a lovely coincidence. So did I.”

— Laurell K. Hamilton

“[To Jean Harlow, who repeatedly mispronounced her first name:] No, no, Jean. The t is silent, as in Harlow.”

— Margot Asquith

“Six months after 9/11, Jean-Marie Le Pen was almost elected president of France. There were a number of leaders and a number of parties running in the French national elections that year in the spring of 2002. But it ended up being not just a shock across France, and not just a shock across Europe. But it ended up being almost a worldwide shock when in the spring of 2002, Jean-Marie Le Pen came in second in those national elections. That put him in a two-man runoff for the presidency of France, spring of 2002.”

— Rachel Maddow