David Nicholls Quotes - Page 2

You start out wanting to change the world through language, and end up thinking it's enough to tell a few good jokes.

He swatted at her with his book. "Shut up and read, will you?"
He lay back down and closed his eyes. Emma glanced over to check that he was smiling, and smiled too.

Cuddling was for great aunts and teddy bears. Cuddling gave him cramp.

Afterward, there was some debate as to whether we'd actually "done it properly," which gives you some idea of the awesome skill and artful dexterity of my lovemaking technique.

And is that what love looks like - all wet mouths and your skirt rucked up?"

"Sometimes it is.

I'm just not going to do it so that we can say that we've done it. And I'm not going to do it if the first thing you say afterwards is 'please don't tell anyone' or 'let's forget it ever happened'. If you have to keep something secret it's because you shouldn't be doing it in the first place!

Why, I wondered, did people seek out portrayals of the very experiences that, in real life, would send them mad with despair? Shouldn't art be an escape, a laugh, a comfort, a thrill?

An amusing story? She jabs the call button as if poking an eye. She doesn’t want an amusing story, she wants change, a break, not anecdotes. Her life has been stuffed with anecdotes, an endless string of the bastards, now she wants something to right for once. She wants success, or at least the hope of it.

Keep the change," he smiled. Was there ever a more empowering phrase than "Keep the change"?

But how can you not like music? That's the same as not liking food! Or sex!

Their lips touched now, mouths pursed tight, their eyes open, both of them stock still. The moment held, a kind of such glorious confusion.

A moment passed, perhaps half a second when their faces said what they felt, and then Emma was smiling, laughing, her arms around his neck.

If you're my friend I should be able to talk to you but I can't, and if I can't talk to you, well, what is the point of you? Of us?

Maybe we've grown out of each other.

I'm just not prepared to be treated like this anymore.'
'Treated like what?'
She sighed, and it was a moment before she spoke. 'Like you always want to be somewhere else, with someone else.

No, friends were like clothes: fine while they lasted but eventually they wore thin or you grew out of them.

Their friendship was like a wilted bunch of flowers that she insisted on topping up with water. Why not let it die instead? It was unrealistic to expect a friendship to last forever…

Nevertheless she feels a great wave of affection for Dexter Mayhew. In eight years not a day has gone by when she hasn't thought of him. She misses him and she wants him back. I want my best friend back, she thinks, because without him nothing is good and nothing is right.

All his words and actions would now be fit for his daughter’s ears and eyes. Life would be lived as if under [her] constant scrutiny. He would never do anything that might cause her pain or anxiety or embarrassment and there would be nothing, absolutely nothing in his life to be ashamed of anymore.

It's scented! Your wedding invitations are scented?"
"It's meant to be lavender."
"No, Dex - it's money. It smells of money.