Judy Greer Quotes

I love bringing roses to a woman when she least expects it.

I'm excited to be home, not wear makeup, and wear onesies.

I am forever a romantic. I try to bring that into my work. I try not to be fooled by romance. Or work.

I feel like girls always deserve flowers; it's just a nice thing to do. If you want to make your girlfriend smile, send her flowers!

I watch my heart disappearing into her rosebud mouth. My Valentine's jest somehow seems less funny.

The only bubble in the flat champagne of February is Valentine’s Day. It was no accident that our ancestors pinned Valentine’s Day on February’s shirt: he or she lucky enough to have a lover in frigid, antsy February has cause for celebration, indeed.

Well, at home, I’m in sweatpants, I’m not wearing any makeup, and I’m not standing with my hand on my hip while smiling. I try to be honest in interviews, but obviously you have to be careful about everything you say and do when you’re being recorded. I’m much more comfortable and quieter at home.

That's enough of that," Jesse said. Next thing I knew, he'd scooped me up. Only instead of carrying me to my bed and setting me down on it all romantically, you know, like guys do to girls in the movies, he just dumped me onto it, so I bounced around and would have fallen off if I hadn't grabbed the edge of the mattress. "Thanks," I said, not quite able to keep all of the sarcasm out of my voice.

Charlie took my hand and, in a symbol as old as the world, placed it in Edward’s. I touched the cool miracle of his skin, and I was home.

Valentine's Day: the holiday that reminds you that if you don't have a special someone, you're alone.

When girls walk home we put on lippy and makeup. We chat. Sometimes we pretend to be hunchbacks. But that is it. Perfectly normal behavior.

We go hard or we go home we gon' do this all night long! #werk

I gave my girlfriend something she didn't expect for Valentine's day... Chlamydia.

So, here’s what you do. You win, you go home. She can’t turn you down then, eh?” says Caesar encouragingly. “I don’t think it’s going to work out. Winning…won’t help in my case,” says Peeta. “Why ever not?” says Caesar, mystified. Peeta blushes beet red and stammers out. “Because…because…she came here with me.

I love seeing the Oscar films and epic dramas. But I'd rather watch a romantic comedy than any other kind of movie. There's something about movies like these that make you feel so good and happy and that you want to live in that world -- to be that girl and be part of the fairy tale. I have always believed in fairy tales.

When we’re home sometimes, she’ll put on mascara. And sometimes I’ll let her wear something out to dinner – but just a little dab. Also having a father who adores you the way that he adores her is very good for your body image. The more we can love her and let her be who she is, the more confident she’ll feel.

I couldn't meet his gaze. I stared at the table just behind him--the mess of cards on it, the lantern giving off its quiet glow. "When you gave me your shirt to wear that night, I could feel you. I could feel your essence." The world went still. We were standing only inches from each other, not touching. Outside, I could hear the faint murmur of the wind blowing through the trees. "What did it feel like?" he asked in a low voice. "Like...coming home," I admitted.

I couldn't believe Sam actually got me a present because i honestly thought the "I love you" was it.

I opened my mouth and kissed you then, the first time all night, attacked you and surrendered completely, and let’s get out of here. I’m ready, I’m finished, let’s not break up, no, no. Take me home, my boyfriend, my love.

Merely watching a romantic comedy causes relationship satisfaction to plummet. Apparently, the bitter realization that maybe it could happen to us, but it obviously hasn't and it probably never will, makes our lives seem unbearably grim in comparison.

Darling," he said distractedly,"about the moon..." "Yes?" "I don't think it matters whether you want it or not." "What are you talking about?" "The moon. I think it's yours." Victoria yawned, not bothering to open her eyes. "Fine. i'm glad to have it." "But--" Robert shook his head. He was growing fanciful. the moon didn't belong to his wife. It didn't follow her, protect her. It certainly didn't wink at anybody. But he stared out the window the rest of the way home, just in case

I was going to buy my girl a Packard car for Christmas, but it took too long to deliver, so I bought her some handkerchiefs.

Obviously this is engagement ring city. Couples are wandering along and girls are pointing through the windows and the men are smiling but all look slightly sick whenever their girlfriends turn away.

Good morrow, 'tis Saint Valentine's Day, All in the morn betime, And I a maid at your window, To be your valentine.

I'd sit around dreaming that the boys I saw at shows or at work - the boys with silver earrings and big boots - would tell me I was beautiful, take me home and feed me Thai food or omelets and undress me and make love to me all night with the palm trees whispering windsongs about a tortured gleaming city and the moonlight like flame melting our candle bodies.