Dialogue Words For Said Novels & Stories

I made sure to lock our gazes so he would know that I am directing my words to him. "If you are no stranger, then please tell me, what are you? Because the last time I checked, I do not know you." "Yes, you do not know us and Likewise. We were just trying to get to know you and be.... "Why won't you just let him speak?" I was directing my words to him and l'm sure he is well aware of that, so why won'tyou just let him give a response! "If he replies, then it's also my words."

Trust me to be dramatic. "Talk. Less. Less talk. Talkless. You don't know what talkless is? Seriously? Everyone knows. You know, right?" I pointed my finger at the guy with brown eyes beside him, who leaned back at my rapid pointing. "No. I don't actually," he replied nervously. I sighed. "Who talks? People. Those who talk, can talk, right? So talkless means those who can't talk. Simple," I explained as they looked at me as if I had grown another head.

she said My smile faltered for a moment, and I felt a surge of anger at her words. But I quickly regained my composure, my expression smoothing out into a mask of calm. "Oh, Mother," I said, my voice dripping with venom. "You really have no idea how much I'm looking forward to seeing you succeed... and then fail." I leaned in closer, my eyes glinting with malice. "You see, I have a plan, and it doesn't involve you coming out on top."

"Is it my head? Is there something on my head?" The Wolf nodded again and sat on its hind legs like it was making itself comfortable. Diana pictured it saying 'looks like I will be here for a while', with a face filled with attitude. "I think so too. I mean, I am talking to a Wolf and responding to a wordless conversation so I do not blame you for thinking I am going crazy," Diana sighed, sitting down beside the Wolf. Diana pictured the Wolf saying 'crazy is an understatement', in a sarcastic voice.

I looked at him in the dark. "I know." I replied. "That is all you have." He pressed. "I already said mine." I replied. "You do not get a whole speech just because you took longer." He stared at me. "You are genuinely unbelievable." He said. "I know." I replied. "Three words." He pressed. "You said three words and then sat there." "They were the right three words." I replied. "Eli." He said. "Sebastian." I replied. "I have been—" He stopped. Started again. "Do you have any idea how long I have been—"

He said it the way he said the things he had been holding, without drama, without the build-up that was sometimes how he arrived at the true thing. Just the plain saying of it. The pause before he answers when I call now. The day last month when he asked me about the drill and the question took two attempts before he found the right words. He looked at the table. I did not want to say it. Neither did I, she said. Which is why neither of us said it, he said. He looked