Grey Quotes

Same time as every day, Fyl..." she fussed, the rest of the bridge crew seeming to hold their breaths. "TWELVE THIRTY!" came the chorus. The next hour dragged by, in about the same way as the hour before that. At twelve twenty-five, Commander Ortez found himself stepping out of an elevator into an equally mundane grey steel corridor on his way to the mess hall. Turning a corner, he met with a stream of crewmen milling around between shifts. Some off-duty personnel were lounging around in civvies, which consisted mostly of re-revamped 60's hippy fashions. Of all the places on the ship, the mess was the most spacious, (i.e.: it was a big mess.) The command officer’s balcony overhung the rest of the crew dining area. Ortez sat at his usual place, wincing as he remembered to get someone to fix the springs in his chair. An ensign, 3rd class dressed in chef’s white, served him with a plate of what either ended up feeding the chefs latest pet - or strangling it. Marnetti, Barnum and the sciences officer Commander Jaris Skotchdopole filed in, not necessarily in that order, and found seats. After a few bites, Marnetti -- who was the first officer and navigator, put up a hand and signalled a waiter. The lad approached fearfully, appreciating the highlight of his day.

Christina Engela

The Doktor was very vond, I mean fond of Vluffy, so he gave him a flame-proof doggie-jacket. It was dull grey, but it had a tartan pattern on it. Vluffy liked his doggie-jacket and wore it all the time. When things went ‘bang’ he could just roll over, dust himself off and quickly scamper off with the doggie jacket flapping on his back. So in short, Vluffy was a very happy little dog who spent a lot of his time hiding under furniture. But the point is that he’d had a lot of time. Much more than those who went (up in smoke) before him.

Christina Engela

Quit calling me Grey. It makes me sound like I’m a boy. Like Dorian Gray.”“Dorian who?”I sighed. “Just think up something else. Plain old Nora works too, you know.”“Sure thing, Gumdrop.”I grimaced. “I take that back. Let’s stick with Grey.

Becca Fitzpatrick

If you call yourself an "authoress" on your Facebook profile, you suck at life. You are stupid and your children are ugly. It doesn't matter if you're just trying to be cute and original. You're not. You are about as original as all those other witless twits "writing" the one millionth shitty Fifty Shades clone. Or maybe you're trying to show your 2000 fake Facebook "friends" that you are an empowered feminist who will not stand for sexist terminology. But you're not showing people that you are fighting the good fight, you're showing people that you are a sheep, who's trying just a little too hard to ride the current wave of idiotic political correctness. The word "author" is no more gender-discrimination than the word "person." Do you call yourself a personess? No, of course not, because then you might as well wear a sign around your neck that says, "Hello, I'm a retard.

I had seen the world as either white or black.It is only when I read the pages of her diary that I understood why the sky looked so grey.

For grey matter, there is no black and white. If you think in black and white, then you do not use enough brain functions.

Look at the huge success of Fifty Shades of Grey. The girl in the book lets a rich guy beat her and ritually rape her, and she likes it! She finds it erotic! But imagine if Christian Grey wasn't a billionaire. Imagine if he lived in a dirty old trailer down by the river. Then that story wouldn't be a sexy romance novel, but an episode of CSI.