Can T Fight This Feeling Quotes

I can't fight this feeling any longer
And yet I'm still afraid to let it flow
What started out as friendship, has grown stronger
I only wish I had the strength to let it show I tell myself that I can't hold out forever
I said there is no reason for my fear
Cause I feel so secure when we're together
You give my life direction
You make everything so clear
~ Journey

I believe this is deeply human. There's no understanding it if you've never experienced a direct and serious threat to yourself and your loved ones. You make irrational decisions and overstep boundaries as you never would otherwise. A person who can no longer flee must fight. ~ M.T. Edvardsson

Although Daisy was the mildest-tempered of all the Bowmans, she was by no means a coward. And she would not accept defeat without a fight.
"You're forcing me to take desperate measures," she said.
His reply was very soft. "There's nothing you can do."
He had left her no choice.
Daisy turned the key in the lock and carefully withdrew it.
The decisive click was abnormally loud in the silence of the room.
Calmly Daisy tugged the top edge of her bodice away from her chest. She held the key above the narrow gap.
Matthew's eyes widened as he understood what she intended. "You wouldn't."
As he started around the dresser, Daisy dropped the key into her bodice, making certain it slipped beneath her corset. She sucked in her stomach and midriff until she felt the cold metal slide to her navel.
"Damn it!" Matthew reached her with startling speed. He reached out to touch her, then jerked his hands back as if he had just encountered open flame. "Take it out," he commanded, his face dark with outrage.
"I can't."
"I mean it, Daisy!"
"It's fallen too far down. I'll have to take my dress off."
It was obvious he wanted to kill her. But she could also feel the force of his longing. His lungs were working like bellows, and scorching heat radiated from his body.
His whisper contained the ferocity of a roar. "Don't do this to me."
Daisy waited patiently.
The next move was his.
He turned his back t ~ Lisa Kleypas

I don't know what's happening to me," she says, blinking through a veil of tears as she looks everywhere but at me. "I don't think I can do this anymore."
My heart plummets inside my chest, my lips still hovering over hers, my hands on her waist "do what anymore?" I don't want the answer, don't want to hear what follows my question, don't want to lose her.
"Fight it." Tears are still flowing from her eyes, but I think she stop crying. She sucks and several breaths when she looks at me, her eyes are clear that I anticipated. She's scared shitless - that's clear - but it's like she stop fighting the fear, giving into it instead.
Her lips apart and I'm a stop whatever she's about to say, silence her with my lips, but I don't, forcing myself to hear, needing to know what's got all worked up.
"I think I'm in love with you," she says, her chest heaving with every ravenous breath she takes, yet her voice is astonishingly even and she manages to maintain my gaze.
My voice however is the exact opposite of even, coming out all high-pitched like I'm a thirteen year old and going through puberty all over again. "What?"
She sucks and a breath, then releases is slowly, the fear in her eyes subsiding, as if she just won it. "I think I'm in love with you..." She bites on your lips and shakes her head. "No...I don't think. I know."
I gradually process her words and the full extent of what she's saying. I think I'd honestly believed that she might never say t ~ Jessica Sorensen

This is the thing about a lie: over time, it not only obscures the truth but consumes it. Those who pursue veracity (those dogooders, those seekers) see truth not as an abstract thing but something concrete. Strong, vivid, with an unassailable right to prevail. But those who fight for it, who fight in the name of it, do not understand that truth is anemic, weak. Especially in the hands of an accomplished liar. Especially over years. A lie, in collusion with time, can overpower the truth. A good lie has the power to subsume reality. A good lie can become the truth. ~ T. Greenwood

[T]he more radical the person is, the more fully he or she enters into reality so that, knowing it better, he or she can transform it. This individual is not afraid to confront, to listen, to see the world unveiled. This person is not afraid to meet the people or to enter into a dialogue with them. This person does not consider himself or herself the proprietor of history or of all people, or the liberator of the oppressed; but he or she does commit himself or herself, within history, to fight at their side. ~ Paulo Freire

Can I tell my daughter that I loved her father? This was the man who rubbed my feet at night. He praised the food that I cooked. He cried honestly when I brought out trinkets I had saved for the right day, the day he gave me my daughter, a tiger girl.

How could I not love this man? But it was a love of a ghost. Arms that encircled but did not touch. A bowl full of rice but without my appetite to eat it. No hunger. No fullness.

Now Saint is a ghost. He and I can now love equally. He knows the things I have been hiding all these years. Now I must tell my daughter everything. That she is a daughter of a ghost. She has no chi . This is my greatest shame. How can I leave this world without leaving her my spirit?

So this is what I will do. I will gather together my past and look. I will see a thing that has already happened. The pain that cut my spirit loose. I will hold that pain in my hand until it becomes hard and shiny, more clear. And then my fierceness can come back, my golden side, my black side. I will use this sharp pain to penetrate my daughter's tough skin and cut her tiger spirit loose. She will fight me, because this is the nature of two tigers. But I will win and give her my spirit, because this is a way a mother loves her daughter.

I hear my daughter speaking to her husband downstairs. They say words that mean nothing. They sit in a room with no life in it.

I know a thing before it happens. She will hear the t ~ Amy Tan

My throat raw with emotion, I said, "I thought love was supposed to be weak knees and butterflies in your stomach and a terrible longing that could never be quenched."

Eeny shook her head, chuckled, came over and embraced me. "No, child," she said gently, patting my back. "That's romance. Romance is built on doubt. Love is solid. Constant. If you're not careful, you might mistake it for bein' boring because it's so reliable. Love is warm and deep and comfortable, just right, so you float in it peacefully without ever being scalded or frozen, like a perfect, relaxing bubble bath.

"But it's also fierce and strong and demands all the best parts of you, the parts that are giving and honest and true. Love makes you a better person. It makes you want to be a better person. You know it's love when you feel comfortable just as you are, when you feel seen and understood, when you know you could tell all your darkest truths and they'd be accepted without judgement."

Eeny pulled away and gently smoothed a hand over my hair. "Love isn't butterflies, boo. It isn't weak knees. It's a pride of lions. It's a pack of wolves. It's 'I've got your back even if it costs me my own life,' because unlike romance that fizzles at the first sign of trouble, love will fight to the death. When it's love, you'll go to war to avenge even the slightest offense. And you'll be justified.

"Because of all the marvelous and terrible things we can experience in this lif ~ J.T. Geissinger

[T]wo of you can be no match for the three giants, I will find you, if I can, a third brother, who will take on himself the third share of the fight, and the preparation ... I will show him to you in a glass, and, when he comes, you will know him at once. If he will share your endeavors, you must teach him all you know, and he will repay you well, in present song, and in future deeds.'
She opened the door of a curious old cabinet that stood in the room. On the inside of this door was an oval convex mirror ... we at length saw reflected the place where we stood, and the old dame seated in her chair ... at the feet of the dame lay a young man ... weeping.
'Surely this youth will not serve our ends,' said I, 'for he weeps.'
The old woman smiled. 'Past tears are present strength,'said she. ~ George MacDonald

...but in 1917 we had no cares except the mundane ones of starvation and occupation and civil war, and for those of us in our armored trains traveling up and down the front waging brilliant campaigns, or for our young Natashas and Alyoshas experiencing the education and class steeling of the Komsomol for the first time, learning to ask in every historical situation: How many workers are there? how many peasants, intellectuals? how do they stand on this issue? it was a very exciting and romantic period; what I am getting at is that probably no one felt alone as Bug had felt alone; for everyone worked together and loved each other- oh, I hope that that was true. For if life is worth living at all you can have your cake and eat it, too (съесть ее тунцом as the Russians say, и ее мудак- literally to eat out her tuna and her asshole); when you fight together you feel together; love and politics go hand in hand, and I can demonstrate this feasibly with another linguistic point. A girl's cherry is her tsélka. Raskobót cya kak tsélochka, to pop like a little cherry, means in fact to crack under interrogation. I want to draw your attention, comrades, to that highly significant trope. ~ William T. Vollmann

Andre, I won't ever try to change you, because I've never tried to change anybody. If I could change somebody, I'd change myself. But I know I can give you structure and a blueprint to achieve what you want. There's a difference between a plow horse and a racehorse. You don;t treat them the same. You hear all this talk about treating people equally, and I'm not sure equal means the same. As far as I'm concerned, you're a racehorse, and I'll always treat you accordingly. I'll be firm, but fair. I'll lead, never push. I'm not one of those people who expresses or articulates feelings very well, but from now on, just know this: It's on, man. It is on. You know what I'm saying? We're in a fight, and you can count on me until the last man is standing. Somewhere up there is a star with your name on it. I might not be able to help you find it, but I've got pretty strong shoulders, and you can stand on my shoulders while you're looking for that star. You hear? For as long as you want. Stand on my shoulders and reach, man. Reach. ~ Andre Agassi

Fitz's human clothes are a huge snoozefest. Check out what Dex and I found in Alvar's closet!" They both unzipped their hoodies, revealing T-shirts with logos underneath. "I have no idea what this means, but it's crazy awesome, right?" Keefe asked, pointing to the black and yellow oval on his shirt. "It's from Batman," Sophie said - then regretted the words. Of course Keefe demanded she explain the awesomeness of the Dark Knight. "I'm wearing this shirt forever, guys," he decided. "Also, I want a Batmobile! Dex, can you make that happen?" Sophie wouldn't have been surprised if Dex actually could build one. As a Technopath, he worked miracles with technology. He'd made all kinds of cool gadgets for Sophie, including the lopsided ring she wore - a special panic switch that had saved her life during her fight with one of her kidnappers. "What's my shirt from?" Dex asked, pointing to the logo with interlocking yellow W's. Sophie didn't have the heart to tell him it was the symbol for Wonder Woman. ~ Shannon Messenger

Don't bend, don't bleed, don't beg, don't scream, don't whine, don't fight, don't tell me. Don't tell me, don't tell me. Don't feel, don't tear, don't kiss, don't care, don't touch, don't want me. Don't want me, don't want me. Something's so sick about this, my misery's so addictive. I'm halfway there watching Northshore from the floor singing to you over my shoulder. ~ Tegan Quin

Stop thinking," Brian whispered. He ran two fingers up under the edge of her T-shirt, teasing her stomach. "Let me make it good for you." Her stomach clenched at his light touch, and his words. "I don't get a say in it?" she teased. "Of course you do," he said, starting a slow, small, side-to-side rocking motion with his hips, brushing his hard dick against her, teasing her. "You can let me, or you can fight me. It can be crazy good when you fight it. ~ Samantha Kane

Loving someone who cannot love you the same way in return is not weakness. It's one of the most courageous things you'll ever do. You are putting your armour at their feet and you are saying 'I will not fight you in this. I have loved you and that means that I have already won. ~ Azra T.

Just then Patch ambled through the front door. I did a double take to make it was really him. I hadn't expected him to come. We'd never resolved our fight, and I'd pridefully refused to take the first step, forcing myself to lock my cell phone in a drawer every time I was tempted to call him and apologize, despite my increasing distress that he might never call either. My pride immediately turned to relief at the sight of him. I hated fighting. I hated not having him close. If he was ready to mend this, so was I.A smile flickered across my face at the sight of his costume; black jeans, black t-shirt, black face mask. The latter concealed all but his cool, assessing gaze.
"There's my date," I said. "Fashionably late. ~ Becca Fitzpatrick

Here's the thing, people: We have some serious problems. The lights are off. And it seems like that's affecting the water flow in part of town. So, no baths or showers, okay? But the situation is that we think Caine is short of food, which means he's not going to be able to hold out very long at the power plant."
"How long?" someone yelled.
Sam shook his head. "I don't know."
"Why can't you get him to leave?"
"Because I can't, that's why," Sam snapped, letting some of his anger show. "Because I'm not Superman, all right? Look, he's inside the plant. The walls are thick. He has guns, he has Jack, he has Drake, and he has his own powers. I can't get him out of there without getting some of our people killed. Anybody want to volunteer for that?"
Silence.
"Yeah, I thought so. I can't get you people to show up and pick melons, let alone throw down with Drake."
"That's your job," Zil said.
"Oh, I see," Sam said. The resentment he'd held in now came boiling to the surface. "It's my job to pick the fruit, and collect the trash, and ration the food, and catch Hunter, and stop Caine, and settle every stupid little fight, and make sure kids get a visit from the Tooth Fairy. What's your job, Zil? Oh, right: you spray hateful graffiti. Thanks for taking care of that, I don't know how we'd ever manage without you."
"Sam…," Astrid said, just loud enough for him to hear. A warning.
Too late. He was going to say what needed saying.
"And t ~ Michael Grant

Cam let go of Evie and approached Sebastian as the room emptied. "You fight like a gentleman, my lord," he commented.
Sebastian gave him a sardonic glance. "Why doesn't that sound like a compliment?"
Sliding his hands into his pockets, Cam observed mildly, "You do well enough against a pair of drunken sots - "
"There were three to start with," Sebastian growled.
"Three drunken sots, then. But the next time you may not be so fortunate."
"The next time? If you think I'm going to make a habit of this - "
"Jenner did," Cam countered softly. "Egan did. Nearly every night there is some to-do in the alley, the stable yard, or the card rooms, after the guests have had hours of stimulation from gaming, spirits, and women. We all take turns dealing with it. And unless you care to get the stuffing knocked out of you on a weekly basis, you'll need to learn a few tricks to put down a fight quickly. It causes less damage to you and the patrons, and keeps the police away."
"If you're referring to the kind of tactics used in rookery brawls, and quarrels over back-alley bobtails - "
"You're not going for a half hour of light exercise at the pugilistic club," Cam said acidly.
Sebastian opened his mouth to argue, but as he saw Evie drawing closer something changed in his face. It was a response to the anxiety that she couldn't manage to hide. For some reason her concern gently undermined his hostility, and softened him. Looking from one to t ~ Lisa Kleypas

How will the family unit be destroyed? ... [T]he demand alone will throw the whole ideology of the family into question, so that women can begin establishing a community of work with each other and we can fight collectively. Women will feel freer to leave their husbands and become economically independent, either through a job or welfare. ~ Roxanne Dunbar-Ortiz

She isn't simply unafraid of a good fight, she lives for it, and will often actively go looking for a fight. This is what differentiates your run-of-the-mill fighter from a crusader. The Warrior Princess Submissive is no shrinking violet. She is that dyed-in-the-wool Republican who attends the Democratic National Convention wearing a Rand Paul t-shirt. She is the African-American woman who invites herself to a Ku Klux Klan rally without a hood... and hands out business cards to everyone there. She is the woman who invites the Jehovah's Witnesses into her home and feeds them dinner, just for the opportunity to defend Christmas - even though she may be a Pagan.
When the other girls in high school or college were trying out for the pep squad or cheerleading, she set her sights on the debate team. While her friends agonize over how to "fit in" socially, she is war gaming ideas on how to change society to fit her ideals and principles. Are you someone she considers to be immoral or evil? Run. She will eviscerate you. ~ Michael Makai

So we may well believe that the King's men were shriven on the night before they fought. Something of the young man's vision had penetrated to his captains and his soldiers. Something of the new ideal of the Round Table which was to be born in pain, something about doing a hateful and dangerous action for the sake of decency
for they knew that the fight was to be fought in blood and death without reward. They would get nothing but the unmarketable conscience of having done what they ought to do in spite of fear
something which wicked people have often debased by calling it glory with too much sentiment, but which is glory all the same. This idea was in the hearts of the young men who knelt before the God-distributing bishops
knowing that the odds were three to one, and that their own warm bodies might be cold at sunset. ~ T.H. White

The world seems to be witnessing a deluge of 'haterisms', and racist propaganda because evil's pain was born to die, and it's time of tyranny is near the end. Don't get caught up by the souls of wickedness; this ain't your fight. ~T.F. Hodge ~ T.F. Hodge

It will take time for you to get the recognition that you deserve.

This world will not recognize real people and their real struggle. Because the majority are fake here. They have sold their souls to live the life of luxury and comfort.
They deal in the currency of glitz and glamour. They are driven by the pettiness of greed and patheticity of selfishness. They don't recognize honesty, integrity, and real struggle!

But you do not become a cynic. You cannot give up on your idealism and integrity. Lend a hand to the poor and needy. Stand up for the Innocents. Be a voice for the voiceless in this world!

Let the fake heroes and heroines show off their fake happiness by gloating on social media. Don't let them take away the real hero or real heroine in you! Believe in yourself. Never doubt your capabilities. Stay real and stay humble.

Some of these fake people buy likes and followers to show a fake achievement on social media. Some even buy 'bought awards' to make themselves feel better! You will never do this I know!

Just don't give up on your struggle.
Stand alone. Stay strong.
Live a life of real achievement.
Fight On! ~ Avijeet Das

I did not tremble when his eyes met mine. One can only shudder in fear for so long until all trepidation is replaced by unearthly bravery. ~ Meredith T. Taylor

Nintendo not letting itself make a browser Mario game has not stopped a flash flood of in-browser Mario games. Super Mario Flash, New Super Mario Bros. Flash, Infinite Mario, and the amazing Super Mario Crossover, which lets you play the original SMB games using characters from Castlevania, Excitebike, Ninja Gaidan, and more. (If you like that, try Abobo's Big Adventure.) There are free (and unlicensed) Mario games where he rides a motorbike, takes a shotgun to the Mushroom Kingdom, decides to fight with his fists, is replaced by Sonic, replaces Pac-Man in a maze game, and plays dress-up. They receive no admonition from Nintendo's once-ferocious legal department. Why not? Iwata's explanation is commonsensical: "[I]t would not be appropriate if we treated people who did someone based on affection for Nintendo as criminals." This is also why no one has been told by lawyers to stop selling Wario-as-a-pimp T-shirts. ~ Jeff Ryan

You're probably good at taking lip, aren't you?" I mutter more to myself than to my bodyguard, clawing through the suitcase for a T-shirt that isn't tight on me. "Like a CIA operative, right? Do bodyguards go to bodyguard school? Are you like the hitman in Hitman?"

He adjusts his cuffs. "You know the rule about fight club?"

I give him a surprised look. "So you can talk!"

He raises a single eyebrow. "I will be right outside your door if you need me. You have to be down at the lot in twenty minutes. I suggest you hurry." Then he takes his burly frame and saunters out of the room.

I shove my head into a clean shirt and pull my arms through just as my phone blips.

There's a message. Well, two messages.

Gail 8:36 AM

- HIS NAME IS LONNY. BE NICE.

"Lonny?" That name definitely is not fit for a three-hundred-pound machine of total annihilation, but okay ~ Ashley Poston

Syn's head snapped back at Furi's rant. "Alright. You're upset about what just happened and you're projecting. I'm gonna give you some alone time. There's beer in the fridge, guest bath is down the hall. Make yourself at home." Syn turned to go to his bedroom. He'd be damned if he was going to let Furi turn this into a fight about him accepting who he was.


"Fucking coward," Furi mumbled.

Syn halted at his bedroom door. Did he really just fucking say that? Syn pivoted on his heels and hurried back into the living room. "What the fuck did you just call me?"

Furi's eyes bulged at Syn's anger. He rose slowly from his seated position and eased around to the other side of the couch. The fear on his face quickly turned to anger. "You want to fight me? Beat me up, Detective?"

"What?" Syn gasped at the absurdity of that question. He faced Furi head on and held his angry, black glare with his own. "First of all, how dare you even think for a second that I would put my hands on you in anger? Just because the bastard you chose to marry did, doesn't mean all men hit." Syn pointed at his chest. "I'm not a coward, Furious. In case you forgot, I just saved your goddamn life."

"Oh no, I haven't forgotten, but yes you're the worst kind of coward. You're not scared of being shot at or throwing yourself in front of two tons of speeding metal, but you're afraid to hold a man's hand, a man you claim to like, in public. Such a badass in t ~ A.E. Via

you're the only person who can fix whatever it is that's broken inside you. I'm here for you, though. I can lend an ear. I can hold you during the night and tell you everything will be all right, but only you and you alone can fight the demons within. ~ T.R. Ragan

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Even the best of us can falter in the face of an insurmountable task. But that does not mean we accept defeat. ~ Saim .A. Cheeda

I was ready to finally acknowledge my complete lack of control over this larger than life connection we shared. I wasn't giving in to him. It was a fight I couldn't win.
It was a fight I didn't even want to fight. ~ T.M. Frazier

[I]t must be emphasized that nonviolent resistance is not a method for cowards; it does resist. If one uses this method because he is afraid or merely because he lacks the instruments of violence, he is not truly nonviolent. This is why Gandhi often said that if cowardice is the only alternative to violence, it is better to fight. ~ Martin Luther King, Jr.