Sophie Kinsella

“Above all, staring at my old bedroom ceiling, I feel safe. Cocooned from the world; wrapped up in cotton wool. No one can get me here. No one even knows I'm here. I won't get any nasty letters and I won't get any nasty phone calls and I won't get any nasty visitors. It's like a sanctuary. I feel as if I'm fifteen again, with nothing to worry about but my Homework. (And I haven't even got any of that.)”

“There's nothing like your mother's sympathetic voice to make you want to burst into tears.”

“Oh God, I'm miss­ing the gene which makes you grow up and buy a flat in Streatham and start visiting Homebase every weekend. Everyone's moving on without me, into a world I don't understand.”

“You’re perfect,’ he says almost fiercely. ‘You don’t need to change one hair. One freckle. One little toe.And if it’s me that’s made you feel you should do this … then there’s something wrong with me.”

“It is absolutely what I think.' He looks deadly serious now. 'These academic guys have to feel important. They give papers and present TV programmes to show they're useful and valuable. But you do useful, valuable work every day. You don't need to prove anything. How many people have you treated? Hundreds. You've reduced their pain. You've made hundreds of people happier. Has Antony Tavish ever made anyone happier?”

“Something tells me organizing a protest against your husband’s client has got to be even worse than selling his Tiffany clocks.”

“You´re sure nothing happened when you bumped your head?" she says at last. "Like...personality transplant?”

“But, come on, even the waiting list for that new Prada bag was only a year. No school can be more exclusive than a limited-edition Prada bag, surely?”

“You'd never get tired of a pony. It's a classic. It's, like, the Chanel jacket of toys.”

“It'll be George Michael all over again," Dad mutters darkly to Mum, and I give a sharp intake of breath. That is AGAINST our family code. No one was supposed to mention George Michael ever again. We even turn off "Carless Whisper" whenever it comes on.”

“Trust Jess to get engaged all discreetly and not say a word. I'd have run straight in, saying, "Guess what? Look at my pebble ring!”

“I wonder if Luke would take a hit of tomato ketchup for me. I might ask him later. Just casually.”

“I can't help giving her the Mummy Once-Over myself, and she's one of those mothers who wears Crocs over nubbly homemade socks. (Why would you do that? Why?)”

“I feel all agitated, like one of those snow globes you see resting peacefully on shop counters. I was perfectly happy being an ordinary, dull little Swiss village. But now Jack Harper’s come and shaken me up, and there are snowflakes all over the place, whirling around until I don’t know what I think anymore. And bits of glitter, too. Tiny bits of shiny, secret excitement.”

“He’s not a food fascist,” I say, feeling an immediate need to defend Eric. “He just…cares about nutrition.” “He’s Hitler. If he could round up every loaf of bread and put it in a camp, he would.”

“you can always find something you want.”

“Everyone's moving on without me, into a world I don't understand.”

“But... we'll always have Paris." I pause, thinking this through. "At least, you'll have it. And you can tell me about it.”

“You're working for me cut out the attitude.”

“I want him.""I'm sorry?" I peer at her, flicking my mobile open out of habit."The man I just met. I felt it, right here. The sizzle." She presses her concave stomach. "I want to dance with him.”

“You looked like you wanted to jump his bones right there!""Jump his bones?" Sadie frowns. "What do you mean?"..."It's like a pajama party. Except you take off your pajamas.""Oh that." Her face clicks with recognition. You call it 'jumping his bones'?""Sometimes." I shrug."What an odd phrase. We used to call it sex.""Oh." I say, discomfited. "Well we do too-""Or barney-mugging," she adds.”

“she is the only woman I've ever known who could make a man call.Ever”

“La vita sarebbe molto più facile se le conversazioni si potessero riavvolgere e cancellare come le registrazioni video.”

“The streak of bleach in my hair is as obvious as ever. Am I really going out in public like this? I push my hair backward and forward a few times - but I can't hide it. Maybe I could walk along with my hand carelessly positioned at my head, as if I'm thinking hard. I attempt a few casual, pensive poses in the mirror."Is your head all right?"I swivel round in shock to see Nathaniel at the open door, wearing a plaid shirt and jeans."Er...fine," I say, my hand still glued to my head. "I was just..."Oh, there's no point. I bring my hand down from my hair and Nathaniel regards the streak for a moment."It looks nice," he says. "Like a badger.""A badger?" I say, affronted. "I don't look like a badger.""Badgers are beautiful creatures," says Nathaniel with a shrug. "I'd rather look like a badger than a stoat.”

“A mother in J Brand skinny jeans with an impeccably dressed daughter walks past, giving me the Mummy Once-over, and I flinch. Since I had Minnie, I’ve learned that the Mummy Once-over is even more savage than the Manhattan Once-over. In the Mummy Once-over, they don’t just assess and price your clothes to the nearest penny in one sweeping glance. Oh no. They also take in your child’s clothes, pram brand, nappy bag, snack choice and whether your child is ­ smiling, snotty or screaming. Which I know is a lot to take in, in a one-second glance, but believe me, mothers are multi-taskers.”

“So", says Jack at at last..."you broke up with Connor".Wow. So we're straight to the point. "So", I reply defiantly. "You decided to stay"."Yes, well...", "I thought I might take a closer look at some of the European subsidiaries." He looks up. "How about you?""Same reason." I nod. "European subsidiaries".”

“I don't believe this. How can he not want to go to the Savoy? God, it's all right for top businessmen, isn't it? Free champagne, yawn, yawn. Goody bags, yet another party, yawn, how tedious and dull.”

“And this is the moment where I went wrong. This is the gut-churning, if-only instant. If I could go back in time, that's the moment I would march up to myself and say severely, "Poppy, priorities." But you don't realize, do you? The moment happens, and you make your crucial mistake, and then it's gone and the chance to do anything about it is blown away.”

“I'm never going to believe a Poirot mystery again. Never. All those witnesses going, "Yes, I remember it was 3:06 p.m. exactly, because I glanced at the clock as I reached for the sugar tongs, and Lady Favisham was quite clearly sitting on the right-hand side of the fireplace."Bollocks. They have no idea where Lady Favisham was, they just don't want to admit it in front of Poirot. I'm amazed he gets anywhere.”

“Don’t think about it. Don’t think about what could have been. It’s too unbearable.”

“Rule of life. If you bother to ask someone’s advice, then bother to listen to it.”

“I thought marriage was for ever. I really did. I thought Luke and I would grow old and grey together. Or at least, old. (I'm not intending to go grey, ever...)”

“Make-up artists should hereby get the Nobel prize for adding to human happiness. And so should hairdressers. And so should Luke.”

“His skin is so hard and rough, it’s like shaking a piece of tree bark.”

“Your job is obviously very pressured.""I thrive under pressure," I explain. Which is true. I've known that about myself ever since...Well. Ever since my mother told me when I was about 8.”

“Our whole family thrives under pressure. It's like our family motto or something.Apart from my brother Peter, of course. He had a nervous break down. But the rest of us.”

“Should I tolerate it as normal male behaviour, like when he gets a cold and starts Googling nose cancer symptoms discharge nostrils?”

“It was in the forest. No one saw it or heard it. So did it actually happen?”

“He leans forward and his mouth brushes brieflyagainst mine, and I feel... nothing.I was hoping our first kiss would trigger all sorts of memories or sensations, maybe a sudden image of Paris or our wedding, or our first snog. But as he draws away I feel totally, one hundred percent blank.I can see the anticipation in Eric's face and quickly search for something encouraging to say."That was lovely! Very..." I trail off, unable to think of a single word other than quick, which I'm not sure hits the right note. "It didn't bring back any memories?" Eric is studying my face."Well...no," I say apologetically. "But, I mean, that doesn't mean it wasn't really... I mean it was... I feel quite turned on!" The words come out before I can stop them.What the hell did I say that for? I don't feel turned on."Really?" Eric lights up and he puts his briefcase down.Oh no. No no no. Nooo.”

“Luke!...We have to be able to do cool dancing so we don't embarrass our child!""I'm a very cool dancer," replies Luke. "Very cool indeed,""No you're not!""I had dance lessons in my teens, you know," he retorts. "I can waltz like Fred Astire.""Waltz?" I echo derisively. "That's not cool! We need to know all the street moves. Watch me."I do a couple funky head-wriggle body-pop maneuvers, like they do on rap videos. When I look up, Luke is gaping at me."Sweetheart," he says. "What are you doing?""It's hip-hop!" I say. "It's street!""Becky! Love!" Mum has pushed her way through her dancing guests to reach me. "What's wrong? Has labour started?"Honestly. My family has no idea about contemporary urban steet dance trends.”

“Jeez Louise. I know why rich people are so thin: it's from trekking around their humongous houses the whole time.”

“Oh, my God, you smiled! Mr. American Frown actually smiled!""Must have been a mistake. I'll speak to someone about it. Won't happen again.""Well, good. Because you could do your face and injury, just smiling like that.”

“You don't always have to know who you are. Sometimes, it's enough just to know what to do next.”

“We all fail to appreciate each day just how much we already possess. Light, air, freedom, the companionship of friends.”

“Sometimes, when I can't get to sleep, I imagine all the rules I'd invent if I ever got to be in charge of the world.”

“Everyone keeps saying I’ll pick it up. But what if I don’t? I did algebra for threeyears, and I never picked that up.”

“You’ve gone back to the way you used to be before. The way you promised you’d never be again.”

“I mean . . . take the Lord of the Rings movies—they’ve got loads of messages. Like “Don’t lose your ring.”

“The first story is all about the president washing his piano. At least I’m pretty sure that’s what presidente and lavoro pieno must mean”

“Not a cute little whimper. Not a plaintive little wail. A full-throated, piercing “This Woman Has Kidnapped Me, Call the Cops" scream.”