Mabel Quotes Novels & Stories

We all stand there, eyes fixed on Mabel. The strangest part? She’s smiling—a warm, almost genuine smile. And after the way she acted earlier, it’s unexpected. Everyone’s curious about what she’s going to say. “First of all,” Mabel begins, “I’d like to apologize for acting… well, crazy.” Crazy? More like being a bitch, but fine, let’s call it whatever helps her sleep at night. “I shouldn’t have said what I did,” she continues, looking around the room. “I know now that I let my emotions take over, and for that, I’m sorry. This was meant to be a celebration, and I ruined it with my outburst. That was wrong.”

Joan stutters trembling. "This won't be the last time we meet. If you want to know more, come find me," Mabel said with a smirk before continuing, "I'll give you one last piece of advice. Give up your shares to Nolan and stay away from Asher if you want to keep your life."

He checked his time and said, "what? Do you mean you have been standing there for over two hours? Did you get your heart broken or something? You look so depressed." "Mind your business and shut the hell up," Mabel replied angrily. She noticed that Armstrong was staring at her and pointed a finger at him as she said, "don't even think of coming close to me, otherwise, I'm going to destroy your balls." Armstrong threw his head back and laughed, "come on, Mabel. I don't think I've said this enough but I really have better taste. Although, I wonder how many balls you have destroyed so far. You aren't that smart, you know. I mean, think about it, if I were a rapist, do you think the queen would

“Goodnight, Aunt Mabel.” “Goodnight nothing,” she said, plopping into a chair. “Tell me, is she young?” “Not particularly.” “Beautiful?” “Absolutely.” Mabel smirked. “Then she’ll be trouble. Beautiful women past forty know what they want, and men who aren’t ready for that should invest in running shoes.” Marcus smiled. “Maybe I’m tired of running.” Mabel blinked, seeing something in his eyes that startled her into quiet. “Well,” she said finally, “at least pick one who can cook.”

The room applauds. Tyler whistles loudly. “Love you, Mom!” Laughing, Mabel slowly gets on the stage. “I love you too, honey.” She adjusts the microphone, looking around the room. “Thank you all for coming tonight. I’ve had many birthdays,” she laughs softly. “But I think this one might be my favorite.” She looks around the room, toward her family. “I’ve spent my life surrounded by extraordinary people. My beautiful children, my supportive husband, my honorary daughter…” Her eyes find mine before she continues. “And every single one of my friends…”

When I was five, my elder sister, Mabel, lost the use of both legs saving me in a car accident. From that day on, there was one thing my parents said to me more than anything else. “You ruined Mabel’s life.” When I got into a top university, Mabel locked herself in her room and cried all night. My mother, eyes red from crying, tore my acceptance letter to pieces. “Wait until Mabel can walk again. Then you can go to college.” So I spent sixteen hours a day delivering food, saving every penny for Mabel’s rehabilitation. When my stomach pain became so bad I could barely stand, my parents accused me of being jealous of Mabel’s nutritional supplements and faking it for attention. I secret

She remembered. “Oh and she said don’t screw up. Embrace it” Mabel said and i scoffed. It finally hit me, why the spray paint. It was the night after we met, that we stayed up painting murals across walls. And dicks. And broken hearts. “Move on” Mabel concluded as i swam back to that night. I’d like to think that i swam, because it was so smooth, like it was just yesterday. She was still so smooth, and this letter had proven it.

This person's character was too dull. “With such a beautiful occasion, didn't he want to find some topics to talk about with such a beautiful young lady as me? After all, I am a typical fair-skinned and attractive lady from a decent family, aren't I?” Mabel complained in her heart.

"Julian? Regretting it?" Mabel looks at me, her expression is thoughtful. "You can always go find out for yourself . . . if you really want to know.”

Mac came to stand beside her, slipping his arm around her waist, and she leaned into him, the way she always did, the way she always would. “He’s alright,” Mac said quietly. “I know,” Cloe said. “I just keep thinking about her. Mabel. How many ordinary evenings she spent in this exact kind of quiet, doing something enormous, with nobody to appreciate it.” “I think,” Mac said gently, “she would actually have found this very funny. If she could see it now.” “Why,” Cloe asked.