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But in my book, it was basically bad taste to stare at someone's assets, no matter how much on display they were.
Charlaine Harris
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Charlaine Harris
Age: 72
Born: 1951
Born: November 25
Actor
Author
Camera Operator
Crime Writer
Film Producer
Karateka
Novelist
Poet
Screenwriter
Short Story Writer
Writer
Tunica
Mississippi
Charlaine Harris Schulz
Book
Matter
Stare
Much
Assets
Display
Staring
Basically
Taste
Someone
More quotes by Charlaine Harris
Woo woo, secret vampire stuff!
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My bullshit meter is reading that as 'false'.
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Are you a prude?' He seemed genuinely curious. 'No!' But after a second, I said, 'But may be compared to you, yes! I like my privacy. I get to decide who sees me naked. Do you get my point?' 'Yes. Objectively speaking, you have beautiful points.' I thought the top of my head would pop off... (Sookie Stackhouse & Claude, Dead in the Family)
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There’s no way you can kill someone and get to the other side of the experience unchanged.
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For awhile I taped soap operas and watched them at night when I thought I might be forgetting what it was like to be human. After a while I stopped, because from the examples I saw on those shows, forgetting humanity was a good thing.
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I thought about making biscuits, but there seemed to be more than enough calories on board.
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No, I like you alive and warm and wiggling.
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It was one of God's jokes that such a dumb mind had been put in such an eloquent body.
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Once again, I had that feeling of drowning when I hadn’t even known I was in the pool
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This must be the legendary Yankee rudeness
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Sookie, what have we done? And to whom? I killed a chicken. And I cooked it. Sookie, Sookie. My bullshit meter is reading that as a false. -Eric Northman, Sookie Stackhouse
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Sookie, my little bullet-sucker Eric, my big bullshitter
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I've often wished when I started a book I knew what was going to happen. I talked to writers who write 80-page outlines, and I'm just in awe of that.
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Though I was standing in front of a mirror, I wasn't really seeing my reflection. I was seeing, very clearly, that—at the moment—I was all in the world that Eric could think of as his own. I had better not fail him.
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My eyes flew open, and I pushed back against rock-hard shoulders. I let out a little squeak of horror. It's me, said a familiar voice. ...Eric, what are you doing here? Snuggling.
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How is Eric?' 'Very tightly wound. Plus, a lot of stuff happened that he'll tell you about.' 'Thanks for the warning. I'll go to the house now. You're my favorite breather.' 'Oh. Well ... great.' She hung up.
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I'm supposed to be a christian, but most days I don't feel like I can even presume to say that about myself any longer. I have a lot of mad left over. When I can't sleep, I think about the other people who didn't care how much pain and trouble they caused me. And I think about how good I'd feel if they died.
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I've got libraries in my blood.
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What are you, Zen Master Fang?
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We might be on the same page, but I wasn't happy about reading it.
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