Friends Fighting And Making Up Quotes

Life isn't about settling for what you have and making the best of it. It's about getting back up, when everyone else around you is counting you out, and fighting for what you want. ~ R.J. Prescott

Fighting hard to protect yourself and your relatives is good for your genes, but when captured and escape is not possible, giving up short of dying and making the best you can of the new situation is also good for your genes. ~ Keith Henson

Girls who stay true to themselves manage to find some way to respect the parts of themselves that are spiritual. They work for the betterment of the world. Girls who act from their false selves are often cynical about making the world a better place. They have given up hope. Only when they reconnect with the parts of themselves that are alive and true will they again have the energy to take on the culture and fight to save the planet. ~ Mary Pipher

I trained in martial arts and wanted to become a UFC fighter. That was my goal. I only really learned how to dance three weeks prior to making 'Step Up Revolution.' Dancing will always be fun, but MMA is something I'll never give up. I will eventually get back in the octagon and be fighting professionally again. ~ Ryan Guzman

I am obsessed with making every moment of my life full of value and substance. I'm constantly fighting for miracle and adventure, and everyone around me tells me to just enjoy life and stop fighting. Then I realized - I AM the adventure, and I AM the miracle. I'm fighting for myself, and I will NEVER give up fighting for who I am. If the greatest adventure is life, and the purest miracle is this very moment, then what the hell am I even waiting for? ~ Hillary Wen

That's always been in my mind my metaphor for a team working really hard on something they're passionate about. It's that through the team, through that group of incredibly talented people bumping up against each other, having arguments, having fights sometimes, making some noise, and working together they polish each other and they polish the ideas, and what comes out are these really beautiful stones. ~ Steve Jobs

I love you, too, Ophelia. God, loving you is the cruelest, most unkind thing I can do to you, and yet I'm going to do it anyway. Do you know what that means?" I tried to look away again - I was buried under an avalanche of emotion, and I felt as though I would suffocate from it. Sully wouldn't let me hide from him, though. He ducked down, bending so our eyes were locked once more. "Loving you isn't me telling you something we both already know. It's waking up together every morning. It's making love, and arguing and fighting, and dealing with each other's shit. It's walking across hot coals for you. It's protecting you, and keeping you, and honoring you always. There's no half measure in this, okay? So you have to be fucking sure, because once we travel down this road together, there is no turning back. There is no good ol' college try. There's me, and there's you. Forever. This will change me, and it'll change you, too. It's a part of us already. Once we let it overtake us, there won't be any turning back. Is that what you want?" "Is it what you want?" I asked in a small voice. "Don't do that. Own your feelings. You don't need to know what I think before you can make up your mind. ~ Callie Hart

Well, I'm glad you're so amused," I said, running my fingers across the railing.
Maxon hopped up to sit on the railing, looking very relaxed. "You're always amusing. Get used to it."
Hmm. He was almost being funny.
"So...about what you said...," he started tentatively.
"Which part? The part about me calling you names or fighting with my mom or saying food was my motivation?" I rolled my eyes.
He laughed once. "The part about me being good..."
"Oh. What about it?" Those few sentences suddenly seemed more embarrassing than anything else I'd said. I ducked my head down and twisted a piece of my dress.
"I appreciate you making things look authentic, but you didn't need to go that far."
My head snapped up. How could he think that?
"Maxon, that wasn't for the sake of the show. If you had asked me a month ago what my honest opinion of you was, it would have been very different. But now I know you, and I know the truth, and you are everything I said you were. And more."
He was quiet, but there was a small smile on his face.
"Thank you," he finally said.
"Anytime."
Maxon cleared his throat. "He'll be lucky, too." He got down from his makeshift seat and walked to my side of the balcony.
"Huh?"
"Your boyfriend. When he comes to his senses and begs you to take him back," Maxon said matter-of-factly.
I had to laugh. No such thing would happen in y world.
"he's not my boyfriend anymore. And he made it pret ~ Kiera Cass

He doesn't like Emma and Rachel making plans together. Not because he thinks they're being devious, but because he doesn't like feeling left out. Not to mention that when Emma is making plans without him, they're usually reckless. The only reason she'd keep a secret from him is if she was doing something he didn't approve of, or didn't want him to interfere with. After all, her motto is "Better to ask for forgiveness than permission."
Galen despises that motto.
"I cleared out the sporting goods store this morning," Rachel says. "I took what was on the shelf and made them cough up their stock in the back."
Galen tenses up. Emma laughs. "Don't be jealous, Highness. Rachel still loves you more than she loves me."
"Aww! You guys are fighting over me?" Rachel says, pinching Galen's cheek. "That's so adorable."
"I'm not jealous," he says, trying not to sound pouty. "I just don't know why we would need life jackets."
"We don't," Emma says, wriggling around on his lap so she can face him. Secretly, he's delighted. "But humans do. And if my job is keeping the humans safe, then I should be prepared, right?"
But Galen is too distracted by the close proximity of her mouth to be bothered with the words coming out of it. She must recognize it, because she leans forward as if giving him a chance to make good on his craving. It's all the invitation he needs.
He captures her mouth with his. Life jackets, islands, and airports are forgotten. The only thi ~ Anna Banks

By [anticipatory anxiety] I mean that the patient reacts to an event with a fearful expectation of its recurrence. However, fear tends to make happen precisely that which one fears, and so does anticipatory anxiety. Thus a vicious circle is established. A symptom evokes a phobia and the phobia provokes the symptom. The recurrence of the symptom then reinforces the phobia. The patient is caught in a cocoon. […] [Obsessive-compulsives] fear the potential effects or the potential cause of the strange thoughts. The phobic pattern of flight from fear is paralleled by the obsessive-compulsive pattern. Obsessive-compulsive neurotics also display fear. But theirs is not 'fear of fear' but rather fear of themselves, and their response is to fight against obsessions and compulsions. But the more the patients fight, the stronger their symptoms become. In other words, alongside the circle formation built up by anticipatory anxiety in phobic cases, there is another feedback mechanism which we encounter in the obsessive-compulsive neurotic. Pressure induces counter-pressure, and counter-pressure, in turn, increases pressure. If one succeeds in making the patient stop fighting his obsessions and compulsions -- and this may well be accomplished by paradoxical intention -- these symptoms soon diminish and finally atrophy. ~ Viktor E. Frankl

But the not-self cannot have the bad, meaning they of the government and the judges and the schools cannot allow the bad because they cannot allow the self. And is not our modern history, my brothers, the story of the brave malenky selves fighting these big machines?"
nah, that's too serious. How's about:
"There was me, that is Alex, and my three droogs, that is Pete, Georgie and Dim, Dim being really dim, and we sat in the Korova Milkbar making up our rassoodocks what to do with the evening. ~ Anthony Burgess

Trying to tell an authentic, raw and honest story without making it therapy. Separating myself enough to have perspective while putting myself in the emotional hot seat so that I could make this thing real. Asking for help. Delegating responsibility. Standing up for myself. Fighting the impulse to be sweet and likeable 24/7. Being open to all ideas, but staying true to the spine of the story. Knowing when to let go and when to hold on and fight like hell. Getting out of my own way. Shall I go on? ~ Jessie Kahnweiler

I was a middle child. I grew up in Brooklyn with three sisters and a brother. You know what that means: everybody is constantly fighting with everybody and you are in the middle of the storm trying to make peace. That is your life. Making everybody work and play well together. ~ Richard Parsons

I'd missed him so much, it almost hurt. It started the moment I left the Keep and nagged at me all day. Every day I had to fight with myself to keep from making up bullshit reasons to call the Keep so I could hear his voice. My only saving grace was that Curran wasn't handling this whole mating thing any better. Yesterday he'd called me at the office claiming that he couldn't find his socks. We talked for two hours. ~ Ilona Andrews

It's interesting because when David Fincher was making "Fight Club," he said, "It's a romance." And it really is. Almost everything I ever write is just a romance. And that needed to be sort of pointed up at the end of "Fight Club." The film has a very different ending than the book does. ~ Chuck Palahniuk

Roll up your sleeves, set your mind to making history, and wage such a fight for liberty that the whole world will respect our sex. ~ Carrie Chapman Catt

I worry when athletes are simply used by their universities to produce revenue, to make money for them, nothing to show at the back end. I grew up with a lot of players who had very, very tough lives after the ball started bouncing for them. And that's why I'm going to continue to fight. ~ Arne Duncan

That's the great thing about being in a band: it's a gang for people who are too wimpy to fight. You can create a gang and have an identity and fight for something and stand up for something just by making pop songs. They're my gang members and gang members are for life, and if you try and leave, we execute you. That's the way it goes. A simple bang, back of the head, into the river, and we keep moving on. ~ Torquil Campbell

In the distance, people were living lives, having fun, learning, making money, fighting and walking around and falling in and out of love. People were being born, growing up, dropping dead. Trevor was probably spending his Christmas vacation with some woman in Hawaii or Bali or Tulum. He was probably fingering her at that very moment, telling her he loved her. He might actually be happy. I shut the window and lowered all the blinds. ~ Ottessa Moshfegh

What motivates me is the chance to improve the world in my own special way; to contribute to the fight that all artists are fighting. I want to hold the mirror up to society and help them see themselves more clearly. I also love just making people laugh. ~ Jinkx Monsoon

Think about all of the times, situations, and circumstances where you have gotten caught up in making your self right rather than happy ... The harder you fight to win, the bigger you lose. ~ Phil McGraw

With a sudden flash of anger, she blurted, "Lash wasn't impotent, all right? He wasn't ... impotent-"

The temperature in the room plummeted so fast and so far, her breath came out in clouds.

And what she saw in the mirror made her swing around and take a step back from John: His blue eyes glowed with an unholy light and his upper lip curled up to reveal fangs that were sharp and so long they looked like daggers.

Objects all around the room began to vibrate: the lamps on the bed stands, the clothes on their hangers, the mirror on the wall. The collective rattling crescendoed to a dull roar and she had to steady herself on the bureau or run the risk of being knocked on her ass.

The air was alive. Supercharged. Electric.

Dangerous.

And John was the center of the raging energy, his hands cranking into fists so tight his forearms trembled, his thighs grabbing onto his bones as he sank down into fighting stance.

John's mouth stretched wide as his head shot forward on his spine... and he let out a war cry-

Sound exploded all around her, so loud she had to cover her ears, so powerful she felt the blast against her face.

For a moment, she thought he'd found his voice- except it wasn't vocal cords making that bellowing noise.

The glass in the sliders blew out behind him, the sheets shattering into thousands of shards that blasted free of the house, the fragments bouncing on the ~ J.R. Ward

TV was entertainment of the last resort. There was nothing on during the day in the summer other than game shows and soap operas. Besides, a TV-watching child was considered available for chores: take out the trash, clean your room, pick up that mess, fold those towels, mow the lawn ... the list was endless. We all became adept at chore-avoidance. Staying out of sight was a reliable strategy. Drawing or painting was another: to my mother, making art trumped making beds. A third choir-avoidance technique was to read. A kid with his or her nose in a book is a kid who is not fighting, yelling, throwing, breaking things, bleeding, whining, or otherwise creating a Mom-size headache. Reading a book was almost like being invisible - a good thing for all concerned. ~ Pete Hautman

When I woke again, I was in darkness.
Fighting my way to awareness, I realized I'd heard sharp voices. Yells echoed back and forth, calling commands to different ridings; from the distance there came the clang and clash of steel.
It's Bran, I thought, elated and fearful. He's attacking the camp!
As if in answer, I heard his voice. "Mel! Mel!"
I rolled to my knees, fighting against invisible knives of pain. One more cry of "Mel!" at slightly more of a distance enabled me to gather my courage and stand up.
Diving through the tent flap, I screamed with all my failing strength, "BRAN!" And I clutched at the tent to keep myself from falling full-length on the muddy ground. A light mist bathed my face, making me shiver--a distant part of me acknowledged that in addition to everything else I had a pretty hot fever going.
"Meliara! Mel! Mel!" A number of voices took up the cry, and I realized that all our people must have attacked.
Again I gathered all my strength and started forward. Which was a mistake. My left foot simply refused to carry my weight.
I started to fall, felt hard hands catching one of my arms. My leg jolted--and thank goodness, that finished me. ~ Sherwood Smith

There are ways to stimulate being prolific, and part of that is making pilgrimages, and being open to listening, changing up the routine. ~ Tori Amos

If film making is magic, there's a difference between close up magic and David Copperfield. If you're doing close up magic, which independent filmmakers do, it is a very delicate craft, interpersonal relationship, and being able to enrapture a very small audience. ~ Guillermo Del Toro

Some primary reasons that both Plato and Aristotle had for believing in God were utterly erroneous - simple errors caused by our being stuck to the planet and misled by the sensation that the planet is standing still. If they had been aware that the Earth spins, they would have understood that, by and large, we are making our own light show in the night sky. As it was, the precision of the movements of all the stars seemed astonishing. If we knew how we lined up among the planets, their motion would not seem so strange and willful. Also, had the philosophers been able to leave planet Earth for a jaunt in outer space, they could have seen that, at a distance from gravity and atmosphere, moving things tend to keep moving, without any need for an impelling force. From out there, the motion of the planets would seem natural as well. ~ Jennifer Michael Hecht

Dear Young Black Males, Please listen to me closely. You have to start making smart choices in your life because, if you don't, the judge won't have any problems locking you up and throwing away the key. FYI: They're charging minors as adults in some cases nowadays. Trust me, they don't care about your life. They will wash you up in a heartbeat, simply because you're a black male. Following the crowd will get you caught up. Trying to play the hard role will get you caught up. Trying to show out for others just to make a name for yourself will get you caught up. Stealing, robbing, selling drugs, etc…it will all catch up with you sooner or later. The statics for black males in prison is alarming. Give yourself a chance! Find another way! No matter what upbringing you've had, it's up to you to make a change. You can't live your life making excuses for why you do what you do. Prove them all wrong! Prove to yourself that you're better than the life that was dealt to you. Rise up my brothas! You're much better than that. ~ Stephanie Lahart

When you slip down a mountain of Joy , don't Worry. Instead of living gloomily in the dark valley , look up at the next peak and take one step in that direction . ~ R.v.m.

I've just finished reading Reality Hunger and I'm lit up by it-astonished, intoxicated, ecstatic, overwhelmed ... It really is an urgent book: a piece of art-making itself, a sublime, exciting, outrageous, visionary volume. ~ Jonathan Lethem

One night the month before, back on the other side of the Belgian border, Aughenbaugh had delivered a lecture on the etymology of the word war. He said that he had looked it up and it came from an ancient Indo-European root signifying confusion. That was a foxhole night, bitter cold. The 5th Panzer Army was making its last great push west. You had to hand it to those Indo-Europeans, my grandfather thought, rolling through Vellinghausen. Confusion shown on the faces of the townspeople. War confused civilians every bit as surely as it did the armies who got lost in its fogs. It confounded conquest with liberation, anger with heartache, hunger with gratitude, hatred with awe. The 53rd Combat Engineers looked pretty confused, too. They were milling around at the edge of town, contemplating the long stretch of road between and beautiful downtown Berlin, trying to figure out if they ought to mine it or clear it of mines. ~ Michael Chabon

The girl really needed to let him go.
This was the voyage Gray went respectable. And it was off to a very bad start.
It was all her fault-this delicate wisp of a governess, with that porcelain complexion and her big, round eyes tilting up at him like Wedgwood teacups. She looked as if she might break if he breathed on her wrong, and those eyes keep beseeching him, imploring him, making demands. Please, rescue me from this pawing brute. Please, take me on your ship and away to Tortola. Please, strip me out of this revolting gown and initiate me in the pleasure of the flesh right here on the barstool.
Well, innocent miss that she was, she might have lacked words to voice the third quite that way. But worldly man that he was, Gray cold interpret the silent petition quite clearly. He only wished he could discourage his body's instinctive, affirmative response.
He didn't know what to do with the girl. He ought to do the respectable thing, seeing as how this voyage marked the beginning of his respectable career. But Miss Turner had him pegged. He was no kind of gentleman, and damned if he knew the respectable thing. Allowing a young, unmarried, winsome lady to travel unaccompanied probably wasn't it. But then, if he refused her, who was to say she wouldn't end up in an even worse situation? The chit couldn't handle herself for five minutes in a tavern. Was he truly going to turn her loose on the Gravesend quay? ~ Tessa Dare

(1) When a situation has become too frustrating, a quandary too persistently insolvable; when dealing with the issue is generating chronic discontent, infringing on freedom, and inhibiting growth, it may be time to quit beating one's head against the wall, reach for a big fat stick of metaphoric dynamite, light the fuse, and blast the whole unhappy business nine miles past oblivion. (2) After making an extreme effort, after pulling out all the stops, one is still unable to score Tibetan peach pie, take it as a signal to relax, grin, pick up a fork, and go for a slice of the apple. ~ Tom Robbins

Laughter has the remarkable power of making an object come up close, of drawing it into a zone of crude contact where one can finger it familiarly on all sides, turn it upside down, inside out, peer at it from above and below, break open its external shell, look into its center, doubt it, take it apart, dismember it, lay it bare and expose it, examine it freely and experiment with it. Laughter demolishes fear and piety before an object, before a world, making of it an object of familiar contact and thus clearing the ground for an absolutely free investigation of it. Laughter is a vital factor in laying down that prerequisite for fearlessness without which it would be impossible to approach the world realistically. ~ Mikhail Bakhtin

Fresh proof of the risks you run in writing about players, and of the advisability of not standing to leeward of their self-esteem when one has had the misfortune to wound it in the slightest degree. When you criticize a singer, you do not have his colleagues up in arms against you. Indeed, they generally feel that you have not been severe enough. But the virtuoso instrumentalist who belongs to a well-known musical organization always claims that in criticizing him you are 'insulting' the whole institution, and though the contention is absurd he sometimes succeeds in making the other players believe it. ~ Hector Berlioz

Hey, Ivashkov! Open up. " Avery argued. She kept pounding on the door and yelling, and finally, Adrian answered. His hair stuck up at odd angles, and he had dark circles under his eyes. He'd drunk twice as much as Lissa last night.
"What ... ?" He blinked. "Shouldn't you guys be in class? Oh God. I didn't sleep that much, did I? "
"Let us in, " said Avery, pushing past. "We've got refugees from a fire here. " She flounced onto his couch, making herself at home while he continued staring. Lissa and Christian joined her.
"Avery sprang the fire alarm, " explained Lissa.
"Nice work, " said Adrian, collapsing into a fluffy chair. "But why'd you have to come here? Is this the only place that's not burning down? "
Avery batted her eyelashes at him. "Aren't you happy to see us? " He eyed her speculatively for a moment.
"Always happy to see you. ~ Richelle Mead

School went exactly as Violet thought it would: weird. It wasn't her best, and it wasn't her worst, day ever. It was just weird.
Jay was true to his word, deciding not to hold anything back. And it started the second they got out of the car, when he claimed her hand and refused to let go, even when Violet tugged and pulled to try to get it away from him. He ignored her mute protests and held on tight, smiling more to himself than to her, and paraded her right into the school like that.
Not that they'd never held hands before, because they had. But this was entirely different, and Jay was hell-bent on making sure that everyone knew it. And just in case anyone wondered what the hand-holding actually meant, he made sure to clear things up for them by planting a big, albeit very satisfying, kiss on her lips, right in the middle of the hallway. Violet didn't try to pull away from that; in fact, she was dismayed to find herself leaning into him, craving more, and not caring - at least at that moment - who might see them together.
Unfortunately that person turned out to be Chelsea. Chelsea, of all people, along with Claire, who happened to walk up at very inopportune instant.
"Well, well, well," Chelsea said in an oh-so-innocent voice. "Look what we have here, Claire-bear. It's old Jay and Violet." The unconcealed smile was embedded deep in her voice. "Only, and correct me if I'm wrong, this looks a little more than friendly, don't you think?"
"I never kiss ~ Kimberly Derting

Stop messin' around. Be the person you are meant to be. Remember that somewhere someone is rooting for you to succeed! Don't worry about the others. They're too busy riding coattails, being unhappy and making excuses as to why they gave up on their own dreams. You've got this. And if today you were wondering if you could do it? Consider this your pep talk. ~ Dawn Garcia

The problem with breaking up with someone, if you are a little unsure - and so often, people are unsure - is that breaking up involves persuasion. You have to persuade your ex that it is better this way for everyone. And this is difficult if you have not entirely persuaded yourself. It is especially tricky to do this if you are also naked, and making two cups of coffee. ~ Adam Thirlwell

Seamstresses had been working all night making uniforms for me. As I waited to be fitted, I looked over at a rack of uniforms tagged with the word "Custer" and the name of another actor. I watched a wardrobe man come in and gather up the uniforms, toss them like rags in a corner, and replace them on the rack with blue and gold-braided uniforms marked "Custer" with my name on them. I looked at those uniforms piled up on the floor and said to myself: "That can happen to me some day. ~ Ronald Reagan

I was born just after the end of World War II, and with my friends in our little suburban backyards in New Jersey, we used to play war a lot. I don't know if boys still play war, they probably do, but we were thrusting ourselves into recent history and we were always fighting either the Nazis or the Japanese. ~ Paul Auster

Turning each page is like making a bed, an enormous expanse of paper slowly rises up and over. ~ Audrey Niffenegger

As TARDIS comes to rest, the only sound, its insistent hum, seems to fill the space entirely, and then this too is lost as the viewer is thrown outside, no longer a
participant, but forced into the detached role of observer: the police box now sitting at a tilt in a dark and barren alien landscape accompanied by the chilling audionaturalism of wind noise [...] In the silence of electronic sound, the audience ejection is experienced as sudden sensory deprivation, making the impression of das unheimliche
the dominant one. Again the fourth wall is breached, this time a figure cuts between us and the ship, carrying a spear rather than a torch, his shadow lengthening impossibly across the landscape towards TARDIS. When the end titles and signature start up, the eerie recognition threatens to become full blown horror as if the music,
having transported us here, is now leaving us to face an awakening of our repressed pasts. Next week, the titles inform us, THE CAVE OF SKULLS. ~ Dene October