Himym Barney Quotes Novels & Stories

“I survived, but barely,I may have screamed at a cadaver. Don’t judge.” Dean grunted. “You probably deserved it.” Troy rolled his eyes. “Cadavers don’t scream back. You’re safe.” Becky leaned forward. “I think it’s hilarious that Barry treats embalming like an emotional trauma.” “Trauma is trauma,” Barry muttered, taking a slow sip of his coffee.

“I like you, Benny. You make me laugh.” Benny was taken aback and didn't know how to react. A nervous smile was all that he managed in the long pause that ensued. Eventually he mustered enough courage to speak. "You don't mind me talking to the mirror, then?" It was his reflection that answered. "I said you had to be honest, Benny. I didn't say you had to tell her everything." "I had a Barbie Doll as a teenager." —MEMORIES

"I think it's time Evelyn tells us all the secret to a happy marriage." "Oh, no." Evelyn shook her head. "I don't know any secrets. Cal just makes it easy." "I think that is the secret," Dixie said, piping up. She glanced at Evelyn. "Find someone who makes the hard things easy." "Here, here." Noemi lifted her glass. "I'll drink to that," said Jessica North, the owner and manager of the town's only bar, The Watering Hole.

He then hit the steering wheel because he thought what Stefan said made no sense at all. "What's so funny, Bara?" Stefan was disturbed by Bara's mocking laugh. "It's you. Don't you realize you've just said the absolutely impossible thing." "Impossible? What's impossible? Of course this is very possible why do you even seem to do that?" Bara then pulled over from his car and asked his friend to buy hot coffee on the side of the road. He seemed a bit lazy to come to the Paradise Night Club. Bara ordered two mochachino coffees with additional wipe cream which made it even more delicious.

Bart sat alone in the classy bar, completely speechless and frozen like he had been asked to make a choice between life and death. After thinking for an awfully long time,Bart took out his phone and called Katelyn. "Hey" *Hi Barry* "I told you i didn't like being called Barry" He let out a brief laugh filled with bitterness. *Ok ok I'll stop. What's up?, you aren't the type to call late at night* ".... Katelyn" *Yeah, what's up?* He took in a deep breath before he spoke. "Let's stop hanging out."

Passing by the bar, the bartender's voice drifted to me over the music and murmurs. "I warn them," he said casually still polishing a glass, eyes flicking toward the back booth, "but they never listen." I didn't stop. I just nodded vaguely, cheeks burning up, as I slipped out into the night... Never listen. Yeah, that's me. Always diving headfirst without thinking things through.

I take big strides, talking to myself on the way — “I don’t know what I’m doing … the nerve of the man!” “The asshole enjoys it. He loves pushing my buttons, getting under my skin, watching me unravel. Telling me I don’t know what I’m doing.” “Oh, excuse me for not being a total disaster who leaps headfirst onto every dick.” Not that I’ve actually seen many options up close. I haven’t seen any, in fact. “Who are you talking to?” The barman stares at me as if I’ve lost my marbles. Maybe I should just keep my mouth shut. I’ve been humiliated enough for one night, thanks very much.

I let Ayana and Simone know I was going to the bar when I heard something slick come out of Keema’s raggedy mouth. “This is exactly why you need to stay at home.” I turned to her, confirming that she was talking to me. Against my better judgment, I couldn’t resist the urge to snatch her lips off her face and stomp hers in the ground. Ayana’s words echoed in my head: “It’s my birthday, and I’m going to enjoy it.” Finally, I reached the bar and ordered another drink. When the bartender handed me the glass, I heard the smoothest voice I’d heard in a while. It was deep yet soft, like velvet to my ears.

That rich-man kind of laugh. I turned and noticed eyes on me. My heart froze. This is weird, I muttered. From a distance, one man couldn’t stop staring. Eww, weirdo, I muttered, turning back to the bar. “Glass of Henny,” I told the bartender, my voice flat. “Sure, ma’am.” I took a slow sip. The burn went down my throat. I hoped it would burn my pain away too. The music thumped around me. I swayed slightly on the stool, just enough to feel something. My hips moved with the rhythm—slow and lazy.

The heavy doors slammed shut behind her, the sound of it making Barbie burst out in uncontrollable laughter. Kenneth appeared from God-knows-where, arms folded, lips twitching in amusement. “She didn’t last ten minutes,” he remarked. “She’s weak,” Barbie replied, still laughing. “So are most people,” Kenneth said, his gaze glinting with something darker. “But you, Barbara… you’re special.” The laughter drained from her throat.