欧宝娱乐

Snooty Quotes

Quotes tagged as "snooty" Showing 1-8 of 8
Helen Fielding
“It struck me as pretty ridiculous to be called Mr. Darcy and to stand on your own looking snooty at a party. It's like being called Heathcliff and insisting on spending the entire evening in the garden, shouting "Cathy" and banging your head against a tree.”
Helen Fielding, Bridget Jones鈥檚 Diary

Toba Beta
“Arrogance is blind to the stumbling block.”
Toba Beta, Master of Stupidity

Enock Maregesi
“Ukiishi Mexico City katika daraja la watu wakubwa na wewe na anasa ni marafiki wakubwa, hutapenda kuendesha gari ambayo kila mtu anaendesha mjini. Nunua gari na kuibadilisha kuwa ya kwako. Lisa aliponunua gari yake huko Ej茅rcito Nacional Mexicano, Mexico City, katika duka la Ferrari, aliipeleka Los Angeles kwa marekebisho aliyoyataka. Ferrari haikuwa ya kawaida. Mbali na kinga ya risasi ya inchi nne, Ferrari ya Lisa ilikuwa na mwendo mkali na matairi makubwa kuliko Ferrari za kawaida. Ilikuwa na rangi tatu: nyeusi, pinki na njano zilizokuwa zikibadilika kulingana na hali ya hewa; na kadhalika ilikuwa na breki ya upepo kwa nyuma, katika buti ya aluminiamu, kwa ajili ya kuikandamiza chini wakati wa mwendo mkali, ili isiyumbe sana barabarani. Lisa peke yake ndiye aliyekuwa na gari ya namna hiyo Mexico City nzima.”
Enock Maregesi

Sandra Dallas
“Don't mind her. She keeps her nose so high in the air, she's liable to drown in a good rainstorm.”
Sandra Dallas, Prayers for Sale

Enock Maregesi
“Gari hii ni nzuri kuendesha.”
Enock Maregesi

Toba Beta
“When I saw snooty guy, I missed my childhood.”
Toba Beta, Master of Stupidity

E.L. Todd
“I could tell she was snooty. If she leaned her head back any further, her nostrils would act as teacups.”
E.L. Todd, Beautiful Entourage
tags: snooty

Stacey Ballis
“Stupid dog, do you realize you have actually LITERALLY bitten the hand that feeds you?"
Schatzi looks at me with a withering stare, arching her bushy eyebrows haughtily, and then turns her back to me. I stick out my tongue at her back, and go to the kitchen to freshen her water bowl. Damnable creature requires fresh water a zillion times a day. God forbid a fleck of dust is dancing on the surface, or it has gone two degrees beyond cool, I get the laser look of death. Once there was a dead fly in it, and she looked in the bowl, crossed the room, looked me dead in the eye, and squatted and peed on my shoes. I usually call her Shitzi or Nazi. I suppose I'm lucky she deigns to drink tap water. Our bare tolerance of each other is mutual, and affection between us is nil. The haughty little hellbeast was my sole inheritance from my grandmother who passed away two years ago. A cold, exacting woman who raised me in my mother's near-complete absence, Annelyn Stroudt insisted on my calling her Grand-m猫re, despite the fact that she put the manic in Germanic, ancestry-wise. But apparently when her grandparents schlepped here mother from Berlin to Chicago, they took a year in Paris first, and adopted many things 贵谤补苍莽补颈蝉别. So Grand-m猫re it was.
Grand-m猫re Annelyn also insisted on dressing for dinner, formal manners in every situation, letterpress stationary, and physical affection saved for the endless string of purebred miniature schnauzers she bought one after the other, and never offered to the granddaughter who also lived under her roof. Her clear disappointment in me must have rubbed off on Schatzi, who, despite having lived with me since Grand-m猫re died neatly and quietly in her sleep at the respectable age of eighty-nine, has never seen me as anything but a source of food, and a firm hand at the end of the leash. She dotes on Grant, but he sneaks her nibbles when he cooks, and coos to her in flawless French. Sometimes I wonder if the spirit of Grand-m猫re transferred into the dog upon death, and if the chilly indifference to me is just a manifestation of my grandmother's continued disapproval from beyond the grave.
Schatzi wanders over to her bowl, sniffs it, sneers at me one last time for good measure, shakes her head to ensure her ears are in place, like a society matron checking her coif, and settles down to drink.”
Stacey Ballis, Recipe for Disaster