Cringes Quotes

Stephanie's vaginal teeth scrape against him as she makes love to him. Kevin cringes as she presses her messy head wound against his cheek. He doesn't enjoy the sex. It feels like he's getting a really bad blowjob from a girl with big teeth and a small mouth. ~ Carlton Mellick III

soon he'll reach for her because she's beautiful, and she's his wife. If she cringes away from him because you've convinced her he isn't good enough for her, how will that make him feel? If she submits to him out of obligation, how will that make her feel?

What if she approaches him and later is ashamed of wanting her own husband because he isn't good enough for her? It'll be hard for a marriage to last under those conditions. This isn't what you want for Susan. Forgive him. Accept him. You'll be doing your daughter a favor. ~ Elaine Cantrell

Emma, we don't have to kiss. She already knows I want to sleep with you."
He cringes as soon as he says it. He doesn't have to look up to know the sizzling sound in the kitchen is from Rachel spitting her pineapple juice into the hot skillet.
"What I mean is, I already told her I want to sleep with you. I mean, I told her i wanted to sleep with you because she already thinks I do. Want to, I mean-" If a Syrena could drown, this is what it would feel like. ~ Anna Banks

You know what they say about air and water when it comes to fire, don't you?" she asks.
Now, I'm curious. She hasn't spoken for the last ten minutes of the drive. "What?"
"Too much air blows out the fire. Too much water destroys it."
I nod trying to determine what she's really comparing us to. "The idea would be to keep the flame going, right. For years?" She nods. "Like a relationship. Like a marriage." She cringes at the word marriage. Noted. "So you need the air - to stay constant - to fan the flames of the fire, and you know, grasshopper," I smile at her and catch sight of the corners of her mouth turning slightly upward in response to the endearment, "a hot enough fire will burn water, so you have to be careful with the water too."
"That I do know," she says softly. "So that's the truth about air and water." She sighs deep.
"Which is?"
"It's hard to maintain the balance to keep the fire going. You have to fan the flames without putting it out with too much water. But too little water will burn the fire right up. Too much fire. Too much destruction. We're out of control."
"You're talking in circles," I say.
"No. That's us," she says with certainty. ~ Katherine Owen

The lesson this teaches and which every Afro-American should ponder well, is that a Winchester rifle should have a place of honor in every black home, and it should be used for that protection which the law refuses to give. When the white man who is always the aggressor knows he runs as great a risk of biting the dust every time his Afro-American victim does, he will have greater respect for Afro-American life. The more the Afro-American yields and cringes and begs, the more he has to do so, the more he is insulted, outraged and lynched. ~ Ida B. Wells

Some think Grom felt the pull toward Nalia," Toraf says softly. "Maybe it's a family trait."
"Well, there's where you're wrong, Toraf. I'm not supposed to feel the pull toward Emma. She belongs to Grom. He's firstborn, third generation Triton. And she's clearly of Poseidon." Galen runs his hand through his hair.
"I think that if Grom were her mate, he would have found Emma somehow instead of you."
"That's what you get for thinking. I didn't find Emma. Dr. Milligan did."
"Okay, answer me this," Toraf says, shaking a finger at Galen. "You're twenty years old. Why haven't you sifted for a mate?"
Galen blinks. He's never thought of it, actually. Not even when Toraf asked for Rayna. Shouldn't that have reminded him of his own single status? He shakes his head. He's letting Toraf's gossip get to him. He shrugs. "I've just been busy. It's not like I don't want to, if that's what you're saying."
"With who?"
"What?"
"Name someone, Galen. The first female that comes to mind."
He tries to block out her name, her face. But he doesn't stop it in time. Emma. He cringes. It's just that we've been talking about her so much, she's naturally the freshest on my mind, he tells himself. "There isn't anyone yet. But I'm sure there would be if I spent more time at home."
"Right. And why is that you're always away? Maybe you're searching for something and don't even know it."
"I'm away because I'm watching the humans, as is my responsibility, yo ~ Anna Banks

When a new writer defends his "style," the teacher smiles (or cringes) because real style isn't an artifice. Real style - voice - arrives on its own, as an extension of a writer's character. When style is done self-consciously and purposefully it becomes affectation, and as transparent as any affectation - an English accent on an old college chum from New Jersey, for example. ~ Bill Roorbach

One cringes to hear scientists cooing over the universe or any part thereof like schoolgirls over-heated by their first crush. From the studies of Krafft-Ebbing onward, we know that it is possible to become excited about anything - from shins to shoehorns. But it would be nice if just one of these gushing eggheads would step back and, as a concession to objectivity, speak the truth: THERE IS NOTHING INNATELY IMPRESSIVE ABOUT THE UNIVERSE OR ANYTHING IN IT. ~ Thomas Ligotti

To my complete and utter surprise, the writing on his door is gone.
Vanished.
"What happened?" I ask.
It takes him a second before he realizes what I'm asking. "I washed it off," he explains.
"You what?"
"I wasn't going to, but I didn't want the super to give me a hard time. Plus, I thought it might freak out some of my neighbors. You have to admit, death threats on doors can be pretty offensive, generally speaking. Not to mention the sheer fact that it made me look like a total asshole - like some old girlfriend was trying to get even."
"Did you take pictures at least?"
"Actually, no." He cringes. "That probably would've been a good idea."
"But Tray saw the writing, right?"
"Um . . ." He nibbles his lip, clearly reading my angst.
"You told me he was with you last night. You said you called him."
"I tried, but he didn't pick up, and I didn't want you to worry."
"So, you lied?" I snap.
"I didn't want you to worry," he repeats. "Please, don't be upset."
"How can I not be? We're talking about your life here. You can't go erasing evidence off your door. And you can't be lying to me, either. How am I supposed to help you if you don't tell me the truth?"
"Why are you helping me?" he asks, taking a step closer. "I mean, I'm grateful and all, and you know I love spending time with you, be it death-threat missions or pizza and a movie. It's just . . . what do you get out of it? What's this sudden interest in my ~ Laurie Faria Stolarz

We could work on our English outline," I say and almost can't contain the chuckle.
"Really? That's your idea of a hot date?"
"I'm sorry, I wasn't aware we were on a 'hot date'" And this time I can't contain the chuckle when she cringes. "So, how hot would you like it? I'm capable of all levels of hotness, from Luc-warm to - and I'm being literal here - hotter than Hell. ~ Lisa Desrochers

We may be old, boys, but we're not dead."
"I will murder you if you ever, ever imply that my mother has sex ever again," Isaac mutters as he cringes. ~ Kristen Proby

Perhaps the breaking of the human spirit into submissive, thoughtless robots is the most terrible feature of Stalin's Russia. Humanity is bowed down. Every one cringes before his superiors, and those who abase themselves seek outlets in bullying and terrifying the unfortunates beneath them. Integrity, courage and charity disappear in the stifling atmosphere of cant, falsehood and terror. ~ Freda Utley

Crimes were committed to punish crimes, and crimes were committed to prevent crimes. The world has been filled with prisons and dungeons, with chains and whips, with crosses and gibbets, with thumbscrews and racks, with hangmen and heads-men - and yet these frightful means and instrumentalities have committed far more crimes than they have prevented ... Ignorance, filth, and poverty are the missionaries of crime. As long as dishonorable success outranks honest effort - as long as society bows and cringes before the great thieves, there will be little ones enough to fill the jails. ~ Robert Green Ingersoll

I don't put myself through that nauseating experience of looking at someone's face while they go through your stuff. Ugh! It's just horrible! It gives me the cringes to even think about it. ~ Roz Chast

The time has come,
The claws are passed.
An old owl rests,
A die's been cast.
It is a war for heart,
Gizzard and mind.
The weapons they wield,
More deadly than mine.
A blade draws blood, a fire burns.
But with the flecks, a mind unlearns.
A soul unhinges,
And then a gizzard quakes and cringes.
Senses dull,
Reason scatters.
The heart grows numb,
An owl shatters.
But these six owls are strong and bold,
And their story has not yet been told. ~ Kathryn Lasky

The humility that cringes in order that reproof may be escaped or favor obtained is as unchristian as it is profoundly immoral. ~ Dallas Willard

She needs to think you're still a couple. And you'll need to be convincing about it, too. Lots of kissing and stuff in case your mother tries to spy on you."
Emma stops chewing. Galen drops his fork.
"Uh, I don't think we need to take it that far-" Emma starts.
"Oh, no? Teenagers don't kiss their sweethearts anymore?" Rachel crosses her arms, wagging the spatula to the beat of her tapping foot.
"They do, but-"
"No buts. Come on, sweetie. You think your mom's going to believe you keep your hands off Galen?"
"Probably not, but-"
"I said no buts. Look at you two. You're not even sitting next to each other! You need some practice, I'd say. Galen, go sit beside her. Hold her hand."
"Rachel," he says, shaking his head, "this can wait-"
"Fine," Emma grinds out. They both turn to her. Still frowning, she nods. "We'll make it a point to kiss and hold hands when she's around."
Galen almost drops his fork again. No way. Kissing Emma is the last thing I need to do. Especially when her lips turn that red. "Emma, we don't have to kiss. She already knows I want to sleep with you." He cringes as soon as he says it. He doesn't have to look up to know the sizzling sound in the kitchen is from Rachel spitting her pineapple juice into the hot skillet. "What I mean is, I already told her I want to sleep with you. I mean, I told her I wanted to sleep with you because she already thinks I do. Want to, I mean-" If a Syrena could drown, this is what i ~ Anna Banks

Mercer opens hi mouth to argue, and Bastion Banister chooses this moment to open his mouth and snap at the circling bee. To his own evident surprise, he captures it, and there's a curious little glonking noise as he swallows it whole. Mercer cringes slightly, as if expecting the dog to explode.
Nothing happens.
"All right," Polly Cradle says, and then, pro forma, "Bastion, you're a very naughty boy."
"Yes," Mercer says acidly. "The dog has consumed a possibly lethal technological device of immense sophistication, deprived us of our only piece of tangible evidence and possibly doomed us all to some sort of arcane scientific retaliative strike. By all means, chide him severely with your voice. That will solve everyone's problems. ~ Nick Harkaway

Hypothetically speaking…"
They all nod.
"When you ask a woman who is clearly upset 'what's wrong' and they say 'nothing, I'm fine' - "
They all groan and shake their heads.
"So not fine."
"They're pissed."
"Fine is the atom-bomb of female emotions." Jesse cringes. "That's a word you never want to hear when you ask if everything's okay. ~ J.B. Salsbury