Quotes About Claire

CLAIRE:your washing right? shane:i'll pay you for it. claire:what? shane:best high score wins claire:no bet 'wash, dish boy

The New York Times ran a story about [Jeff] Sessions meeting the Russian ambassador, and they ran Claire McCaskill's tweet excoriating Sessions for doing this and saying that he should resign. Well, then it was produced that Claire McCaskill had, in fact, sent two other tweets where she was bragging about having spent time with the Russian ambassador. So the New York Times, rather than print that, just removed her from the whole story.

Who's Myrnin?" Claire controlled an urge to roll her eyes. "Badass crazy vampire scientist who's my boss." "You realize no part of that sentence made sense, right?

I think so,” she [Claire] said. “Just watch your back, okay?” “Nah, Michael’s got mine.” He [Shane] looked straight into her eyes. “I’ve got yours.

Oh, Claire," he said. "You think me a far better man than I am. That's kind, and flattering." "Are you saying that you -" "Doughnuts!" Myrnin interrupted her and darted away, to zip back in seconds with an open box.

She smells better," Claire said. "And she made me cookies.

She dug in her backpack, found her cell phone, and checked for coverage. It was kind of lame in Morganville, truthfully, out in the middle of the prarie, in the middle of Texas, which was about as middle of nowhere as it was possible to get unless you wanted to go to Mongolia or something.... Claire started dialing numbers. The first person told her that they'd already found somebody.... The second one sounded like a weird old guy. The third one was a weird old lady. The fourth one... well, the fourth one was just plain weird.

I'll give you one day at a time, Claire. But remember, I'm thousands of days ahead already.

Another thing I don't want on my tombstone," Shane said. You have others?" Claire asked. He held up one finger. "I thought it wasn't loaded," Shane said. Second finger. "Hand me a match so I can check the gas tank." Third finger. "Killed over ice cream. Basically, any death that requires me to be stupid first.

You’re kind of a psycho. I get that.” “I might be,” Monica agreed, and gave her a slow, strange smile. “You’re one smart little freak. Now run away, smart little freak, before I change my mind and stick you in one of these old suitcases for some architect to find a hundred years from now.” Claire blinked. “Archaeologist.” Monica’s eyes turned winter cold. “Oh, you’d better start running away now.