Fussing Quotes

Kiaran tosses me his coat. "Here. There's a roll of bread for you in the inner pocket. You need to eat something."

The bread is wrapped in leaves that kept it dry. I gratefully murmur my thanks that Kiaran is so practical. Between the Morrigan's attacks and worrying over the Book, I didn't even notice how famished I was.

Kiaran gathers wood for a fire and I light it with my powers. A small bit of energy I'm willing to risk because I'm so bloody tired and I've never seen Kiaran look this rough, either.

Now you know how I feel, I think wryly as I move to sit near the flames. No invulnerable, shining fae skin. No immediate healing. Just the deep bone-tiredness of mortality.

Kiaran sits opposite, as far from me as possible. The scent of burning wood must mask the scent of my blood, at least a little. His eyes flicker to me in a quick, controlled assessment. "Your wounds need binding."

I can't help but smile. "First the bread, now my wounds. Is this the Kiaran MacKay way of fussing over someone?"

"I don't fuss," Kiaran says. "I give stern instructions, like: Bind your goddamn wounds."

"I don't like overbearing men."

His mouth quirks into a sly smile. "And yet I love assertive, stubborn women."

I laugh in surprise. "God, I adore you. ~ Elizabeth May

I figured if I was tired enough, I wouldn't miss Travis.
Which kind of worked, until after the three o'clock fussing-wombat feed and I got back into bed and his side of the bed was cold.
Or until I tripped over his laundry that he'd left on the bathroom floor. That he always left on the bathroom floor.
Or until I sat at the table at breakfast time and his chair was too damn empty. There was no smartarse comments, no bursts of laughter. His blue eyes didn't spark with humour and his sandy-blond hair didn't spike out just so.
There was no foot-holding under the table. ~ N.R. Walker

I am very sorry you did not find me in yesterday. I was fussing about with Germans all day. We went with Weyrother to survey the dispositions. When Germans start being accurate there's no end to it! ~ Leo Tolstoy

Isabelle wasn't scared of much, but Alec was always fussing. ~ Cassandra Clare

Snegiryov, fussing and bewildered, ran after the coffin in his old, short, almost summer coat, bare-headed, with his old wide-brimmed felt hat in his hand. He was in some sort of insoluble anxiety, now reaching out suddenly to support the head of the coffin, which only interfered with the bearers, then running alongside to see if he could find a place for himself. A flower fell on the snow, and he simply rushed to pick it up, as if God knows what might come from the loss of this flower. ~ Fyodor Dostoyevsky

Walk down any sidewalk in any city and eventually you'll find a flower growing out of a crack in the concrete, tenaciously grasping for life, barely enough earth for it to clench hold of. This little flower has seeded, sprouted, and blossomed, despite thousands of feet walking over and around it every day. This flower is a survivor, thriving better than if it were in my Aunt Tilda's fucking backyard garden with her fussing over it day and night and giving it all the goddamned care she thought it needed. Yeah, eventually, some careless asshole's gonna trample and kill that flower, but another one's gonna replace it. [...] I'll always believe in you, Raeburn. You just have to find another crack in the sidewalk and blossom. Don't be another Kurt Cobain. Don't give up. People need you. ~ Pete Conrad

The nice thing about a protest song is that it takes the complaint, the fussing, the finger-pointing, and gives it an added component of sociable harmony. ~ Nicholson Baker

I'm like the painter with his nose to the canvas, fussing over details. Gazing from a distance, the reader sees the big picture. ~ Steven Saylor

I'd gone from being a mum to all of a sudden having people fussing and overly pampering me. It can easily change you. ~ Rebecca Ferguson

I went to the railing and looked out over the sea. It had been fussing earlier in the day, but now it lay greasy and hushed. 'You got a tremendous prospect from up here, Brother Assembly.'

'Aye. Two evenings hence, for instance, I noted thy schooner passing westward. I also saw a cutter at the same time, a low and black-hulled cutter, British from the look of her, beating eastward beyond Vandyke's. She kept the island betwixt herself and thee, and sailed on into yon flat ugly yellow clouds.' He nodded to the east.

I got a crawly feeling between my shoulders, like I'd been hunting a panther and discovered it had been hunting me. 'Well, then,' I said, 'I guess I'd best be shoving off.'

'Tomorrow is the first of October. There have been no hurricanes yet this season worth mentioning, but a noteworthy one approaches now, thou mustn't doubt. Do not cling too tightly to ephemeral notions and worldly things, Brother, lest thou lose what thou most values.' He whistled an old Shaker hymn that was popular among the Brethren:
'Tis a gift to be simple,
'Tis a gift to be free,
'Tis a gift to come down
Where we ought to be...

I knocked on the railing, annoyed with myself for my superstitiousness but angrier with Assembly for baiting me. 'Of all the infernal meanness,' I said. 'Don't whistle for a wind in hurricane season!'

'Oh, as for that,' he said, the corners of his naked lip turning up just a little bit, ' ~ Broos Campbell

Some stories or passages are more difficult and demand more fussing with than others, but, in general, I'm a two-draft writer rather than a six-draft writer, or whatever. ~ John Updike

Try and make yourself comfortable on the sofa," invited Reg, fussing around hospitably. "I don't know if you'll manage it. It always feels to me as if it's been stuffed with cabbage leaves and cutlery. ~ Douglas Adams

Because I loved him so and am in the habit of loving him and that love must take the form of fussing and worry and doing. Only ~ George Saunders

Hitler derived several things from his experience and achievements in World War I, without which his rise to power in 1933 would have been at the least problematical, and at the most inconceivable. Hitler survived the war as a combat soldier - a rifle carrier - in a frontline infantry regiment. The achievement was an extraordinary one based on some combination of near-miraculous luck and combat skill. The interpretive fussing over whether or not Hitler was a combat soldier because he spent most of the war in the part of the regiment described as regimental headquarters can be laid to rest as follows: Any soldier in an infantry regiment on an active front in the west in World War I must be considered to have been a combat soldier. Hitler's authorized regimental weapon was the Mauser boltaction, magazine-fed rifle. This gives a basic idea of what Hitler could be called upon to do in his assignment at the front. As a regimental runner, he carried messages to the battalions and line companies of the regiment, and the more important ones had to be delivered under outrageously dangerous circumstances involving movement through artillery fire and, particularly later in the war, poison gas and the omnipresent rifle fire of the skilled British sniper detachments.
--Hitler: Beyond Evil and Tyranny, p. 96 ~ Russel H.S. Stolfi

It's hard to look pleasant when anguish is present, and yet it is strictly worth while; Not all of your scowling and fussing and growling can show off your grit like a smile. ~ Walter Mason Camp

Stop fussing over me, woman. I will be whole again shortly, and then you can resume ogling me and desiring my body. ~ Katie MacAlister

A good social system is not to be secured by making people unselfish, but, by making their own vital impulses fit in with other peoples. This is feasible. Those who have produced stoic philosophies have all had enough to eat and drink.

I feel I shall find the truth on my deathbed and be surrounded by people too stupid to understand - fussing about medicines instead of searching for wisdom.

I hate being all tidy like a book in a library where nobody reads – prison is horribly like that. ~ Bertrand Russell

Christian looked at him earnestly. "Does it look OK?" The cut had been impulsive, which wasn't something Christian was, really. But Eddie stopped fussing and looked like he was raging some internal battle. "Chrissy, you're killing me here. I'll say this only once, so listen clearly. You're beautiful. Not in a 'Christina Aguilera power song' kind of way, but in a male model, hot boy fantasy kind of way. Now, don't ask me again, or I'll make a fool of myself. ~ Micaela Vee

Once I was no longer fussing with my coat, he said, "You may be fooling the neighbors and the guards and Jesus and your gaga mother with these goody-goody visits of yours, but you're not fooling me. Keep it up if you want a gold star. But don't be dragging your ass back here on my account." Then he added, "Because I hate you." I ~ Lionel Shriver

However spontaneous I hope a photograph will look, I always put a lot of thought into how I can make it happen. The very best pictures are the most relaxed, so a lot of fussing around technically can completely break the spell, and everyone freezes up with nerves. ~ Mario Testino

It was Joss Whedon's Buffy the Vampire Slayer (the television series, 1997-2003, not the lackluster movie that preceded it) that blazed the trail for Twilight and the slew of other paranormal romance novels that followed, while also shaping the broader urban fantasy field from the late 1990s onward.

Many of you reading this book will be too young to remember when Buffy debuted, so you'll have to trust us when we say that nothing quite like it had existed before. It was thrillingly new to see a young, gutsy, kick-ass female hero, for starters, and one who was no Amazonian Wonder Woman but recognizably ordinary, fussing about her nails, her shoes, and whether she'd make it to her high school prom. Buffy's story contained a heady mix of many genres (fantasy, horror, science-fiction, romance, detective fiction, high school drama), all of it leavened with tongue-in-cheek humor yet underpinned by the serious care with which the Buffy universe had been crafted. Back then, Whedon's dizzying genre hopping was a radical departure from the norm-whereas today, post-Buffy, no one blinks an eye as writers of urban fantasy leap across genre boundaries with abandon, penning tender romances featuring werewolves and demons, hard-boiled detective novels with fairies, and vampires-in-modern-life sagas that can crop up darn near anywhere: on the horror shelves, the SF shelves, the mystery shelves, the romance shelves. ~ Ellen Datlow

It's funny how all the fussing and fighting turns into us f-king and flying. ~ Wiz Khalifa

Creativity itself doesn't care at all about results - the only thing it craves is the process. Learn to love the process and let whatever happens next happen, without fussing too much about it. Work like a monk, or a mule, or some other representative metaphor for diligence. Love the work. Destiny will do what it wants with you, regardless. ~ Elizabeth Gilbert

As I said before, the marriage had troubles in it, which is easy to say ... When we were both mad, we would have something to say to each other. It wasn't love, but it beat indifference, and sooner or later, mostly sooner, it would come to love ...
We had often enough the pleasure of making up, because we fell out often enough. But now, looking back, it is hard to say why we fell out, or what we fell out about, or why whatever we fell out about ever mattered. But even then it was something hard to say.
One time we were fussing and Nathan looked at me right in the middle of it and said, "Hannah, what in the hell got us started on this?"
I said, "I don't know."
"Well, I don't know either," he said. "So I think I'm going to quit."
"Well, go ahead and quit," I said.
He said, "I already did." And that was the last word that time. ~ Wendell Berry

Soft fingers grip my wrist and forearm. My eyes shoot to hers, but she's too busy fussing over the noncut to notice how her caress is turning me inside out. In a good way. In a strange way. In a way I haven't felt since ... Beth. ~ Katie McGarry

Alex peered behind her to see Noah fussing over a scrape on Kennedy's cheek. "Unless someone's bleeding to death, first aid will have to wait. You'll want to strap into the jump seats.

"This could get interesting, and that's before we get clear of the station. ~ G.S. Jennsen

A Lake Charles-based artist, Sally was a progressive Democrat who in 2016 primary favored Bernie Sanders. Sally's very dear friend and worl-traveling flight attendant from Opelousas, Louisiana, Shirley was an enthusiast for the Tea Party and Donald Trump. Both woman had joined sororities at LSU. Each had married, had three children, lived in homes walking distance apart in Lake Charles, and had keys to each other's houses. Each loved the other's children. Shirley knew Sally's parents and even consulted Sally's mother when the two go to "fussing to much." They exchanged birthday and Christmas gifts and jointly scoured the newspaper for notices of upcoming cultural events they had, when they were neighbors in Lake Charles, attended together. One day when I was staying as Shirley's overnight guest in Opelousas, I noticed a watercolor picture hanging on the guestroom wall, which Sally had painted as a gift for Shirley's eleven-year-old daughter, who aspired to become a ballerina. With one pointed toe on a pudgy, pastel cloud, the other lifted high, the ballerina's head was encircled by yellow star-like butterflies. It was a loving picture of a child's dream--one that came true. Both women followed the news on TV--Sally through MSNBC's Rachel Maddow, and Shirley via Fox News's Charles Krauthammer, and each talked these different reports over with a like-minded husband. The two women talk by phone two or three times a week, and their grown children keep in touch, partly across the ~ Arlie Russell Hochschild

I hate fussing about in the kitchen when I have people over to supper, so I make a rich beef stew cooked in wine with carrots, sundried tomato paste and chopped chorizo sausage. ~ Deborah Moggach

There spoke the race!" he said; "always ready to claim what it hasn't got, and mistake its ounce of brass filings for a ton of gold-dust. You have a mongrel perception of humor, nothing more; a multitude of you possess that. This multitude see the comic side of a thousand low-grade and trivial things--broad incongruities, mainly; grotesqueries, absurdities, evokers of the horse-laugh. The ten thousand high-grade comicalities which exist in the world are sealed from their dull vision. Will a day come when the race will detect the funniness of these juvenilities and laugh at them--and by laughing at them destroy them? For your race, in its poverty, has unquestionably one really effective weapon--laughter. Power, money, persuasion, supplication, persecution-- these can lift at a colossal humbug--push it a little--weaken it a little, century by century; but only laughter can blow it to rags and atoms at a blast. Against the assault of laughter nothing can stand. You are always fussing and fighting with your other weapons. Do you ever use that one? No; you leave it lying rusting. As a race, do you ever use it at all? No; you lack sense and the courage. ~ Mark Twain

I'm sorry, Ben," Tori soothed, her hand cupping his shoulder as she blotted the excess wetness from his nape with a towel and waited for the liquor to evaporate. "I'm almost done." Too bad. He was rather enjoying her fussing over him. Well, except for the excruciating pain. Tori had never voluntarily touched him. Soothed him. Murmured his name in the affectionate tone usually reserved solely for Lewis. Getting kicked in the head seemed to have advanced his wooing. He could live with temporary pain if it helped him claim a permanent hold on the woman he loved. Yet ~ Karen Witemeyer

Tuck and me, we got each other," she said, "and that's a lot. The boys, now, they go their separate ways. They're some different, don't always get on too good. But they come home whenever the spirit moves, and every ten years, first week of August, they meet at the spring and come home together so's we can be a family again for a little while. That's why we was there this morning. One way or another, it all works out." She folded her arms and nodded, more to herself than to Winnie. "Life's got to be lived, no matter how long or short," she said calmly. "You got to take what comes. We just go along, like everybody else, one day at a time. Funny--we don't feel no different. Leastways, I don't. Sometimes I forget about what's happened to us, forget it altogether. And then sometimes it comes over me and I wonder why it happened to us. We're plain as salt, us Tucks. We don't deserve no blessings--if it is a blessing. And, likewise, I don't see how we deserve to be cursed, if it's a curse. Still-there's no use trying to figure why things fall the way they do. Things just are, and fussing don't bring changes. Tuck, now, he's got a few other ideas, but I expect he'll tell you. ~ Natalie Babbitt

There's a power struggle going on across Europe these days. A few cities are competing against each other to see who shall emerge as the great 21st century European metropolis. Will it be London? Paris? Berlin? Zurich? Maybe Brussels, center of the young union? They all strive to outdo one another culturally, architecturally, politically, fiscally. But Rome, it should be said, has not bothered to join the race for status. Rome doesn't compete. Rome just watches all the fussing and striving, completely unfazed. I am inspired by the regal self-assurance of this city, so grounded and rounded, so amused and monumental, knowing she is held securely in the palm of history. I would like to be like Rome when I am an old lady. ~ Elizabeth Gilbert

The result of observing only the universe is anxiety. Only observing the Observer of the universe will put a stop to a man's worrying and fussing and scheming. When his interest is diverted inwards he naturally relaxes his hold - his stranglehold - on the outer world. Having withdrawn his capital and paid it into his own Central Bank (where it appreciates to infinity), he has nothing to lose out there and no reason for interfering. He knows how to let things be and work out in their own time. He's in no hurry. Knowing the Self, he can hardly fail to trust its products. ~ Douglas Harding

The aspirant who frequently measures how far he has advanced, or retrograded, upon this path, or how long he has stood still, is seeking something to be gained for himself, is looking all the time at himself. He is measuring the ego instead of trying to transcend it altogether. He is clinging to self, instead of obeying Jesus' injunction to deny it. Looking at the ego, he unwittingly stands with his back to the Overself. If he is ever to become enlightened, he must turn round, cease this endless self-measurement, stop fussing over little steps forward or backward, let all thoughts about his own backwardness or greatness cease, and look directly at the goal itself. ~ Paul Brunton

Hester kept her company by bringing her meals and tea, fussing over Rosebud, washing Morrow's clothes, and doing her hair as if she was the colonel's lady. "Colonel Clark is sure taken wi' you," she said. "Neither man nor beast ever talks back to that man, but you shore put him in his place over that bad business at Fort Randolph. And lo and behold, I think he liked it. But for one little thing." Morrow looked up from nursing Rosebud. "He just can't figure out why a beautiful woman like yo'self would settle for a savage. ~ Laura Frantz

Maybe I should have got some chili-slaw dogs from Shorty's. Everybody loves those."
"Buddy," Lars said, dropping his shoes to the deck with a thump, "sit yourself down and stop fussing. You're reminding me of my Aunt Glynna with all this temperature takin' and foil tuckin'. This food is fine. ~ Mary Jane Hathaway

Patrick would flip The Beatles on mornings after a fight, when we'd bake bread, kneading our troubles into something we could eat. We'd take turns in two-part harmony, working the gluten out, 'fussing and fighting', and as the smell of it baking filled the apartment with the homeliness of 'Penny Lane', we'd be 'ob-la-di-ing' over the sink, one washing, the other drying, hitting hips in three-four time. When we'd slice it open, knife a bit of butter in and take a bite of what had become of the last night's troubles, it was clear 'we'd still need each other, we'd still feed each other, when we're sixty-four'. ~ Megan Rich

All over now. He is either in joy or nothingness.
(So why grieve?
The worst of it, for him, is over.)
Because I loved him so and am in the habit of loving him and that love must take the form of fussing and worry and doing. ~ George Saunders

Girls like guys to be a challenge. It gives them some mold to fit in how they act. Like a mom. What would a mom do if she couldn't fuss over you and make you clean your room? And what would you do without her fussing and making you do it? Everyone needs a mom. And a mom knowns this. And it gives her a sense of purpose. You get it? ~ Stephen Chbosky

That's like the tenth time you've looked at your reflection in the past five minutes." Chuito narrowed dark eyes at her as he leaned forward from his seat in the back and contemplated Jules. "Do you have a crush on me?"
...
Chuito got out of the car, studying Jules fussing with her outfit. "I was joking, but now you got me scared. You're not really after me, are you?"
Jules rolled her eyes. "No."
"Thank God. That'd be like doing it with my mother. ~ Kele Moon

I hated her as I had never hated anyone before - with her easy answers and maternal fussing. I wanted to slap her face, to make her crawl, and then to hold her in my arms and kiss her. ~ Daniel Keyes

How does it happen that, on the one hand, we all share not just a sense that there is such a thing as justice, but a passion for it, a deep longing that things should be put to rights, a sense of out-of-jointness that goes on nagging and gnawing and sometimes screaming at us - and yet, on the other hand, after millennia of human struggle and searching and love and longing and hatred and hope and fussing and philosophizing, we still can't seem to get much closer to it than people did in the most ancient societies we can discover? ~ N. T. Wright

Silence cleared her throat, fearful her voice would come out a croak. "Is she asleep?"
He blinked as if he, too, were waking from a dream, and glanced down at Mary Darling. "Aye, I'm a-thinkin' she is - she's stopped fussin' at me."
Silence felt a huge smile of relief spread over her face. "She was fussing? Oh, how wonderful!"
He shot her a look, one eyebrow arching. "Ye've taught the child to bully me, too, now?"
"Oh, no," she said hastily, embarrassed. Did he really think she bullied him? What a silly notion! ~ Elizabeth Hoyt

How many toes did I have when we left London, does anyone remember?" Jim asked, examining its feet. "I think one is missing."
"Stop fussing about a missing toe. We have more important things to focus on, like finding Drake and saving him from whatever trouble he's in," I answered, straightening my clothing and zipping up my heavy parka.
"Oh, man, I am missing one! I know I had four on this foot! What sort of place was that company you used, demon-haters or something?"
"Budget Teleporters is a perfectly good company. Didn't you listen to their warning about keeping your arms and legs in the portal at all times? ~ Katie MacAlister

The noble-minded are calm and steady. Little people are forever fussing and fretting. ~ Confucius

Fussing keeps you sharp. When you get old, you need to stay sharp. ~ Terry Goodkind

I took off my boot and sock and examined my ankle, expecting - and indeed, in that perverse manner of the injured male, rather hoping - to find some splintered bone straining at the skin like a tent pole, making everyone who saw it queasy. But the ankle was just faintly bluish and tender and very slightly swollen, and I realized that once more in my life I had merely achieved acute pain and not the sort of grotesque injury that would lead to a mercy flight by helicopter and a fussing-over by young nurses in erotically starched uniforms. ~ Bill Bryson

I feel shy when people are fussing on me. ~ Blake Lively

We can work it out. Life is very short, and there's no time for fussing and fighting, my friend. ~ Paul McCartney

Instead of a dedicated room, my best trigger is the actual habit of reading over the texts from the day before. Marking. Changing. Fussing. This ritual amounts to a habit of trust. Trust that I can make it better. That if I keep trying, I will come closer to something true. ~ Mona Simpson

There's no use fussing on a boy who doesn't have any ability. ~ Paul Bryant

You've a thing or two to learn, dear one, if you don't know how important fussing is. ~ Terry Goodkind

Shea took her time braiding her hair, fussing over her blue jeans, adjusting her ribbed cotton shirt, allowing her mind time to cope with the new knowledge. It was frightening yet fascinating. She wished she had observed it in someone other than herself. It was hard to accept it clinically when it was her own body she was studying.
Such a nice body.
She nearly dropped her brush. Will you stop! Just the low velvet touch of his voice sent heat curling through her body. It was sinful and unfair to have such a voice.
I did not think you would ever speak with me as a lifemate would. I waited long for that impatient comment. There was a teasing note now. ~ Christine Feehan

And oh, how she pitched herself into things. She would draw pictures all day long for weeks on end, then throw out the pencils and never draw another thing. Then it was embroidery with her, she had to learn it, and she'd make the most beautiful thing, fussing at herself for the least little mistake, then throw down the needles and be done with that forevermore. I never saw a child so changeable. It was as though she was looking for something to which she could give herself, and she never found it. Least ways not while she was a little girl. ~ Anne Rice

The threads of circumstance that lead to tomorrow are so tenuous that all the fussing and worrying about decisions is futile compared to the pure randomness of existence. ~ Nick Bantock

He watched Attolia out of the corner of his eye. She was still cool, like a breath of winter in the warm evening air, but in the last few days he had begun to sense a subtle humor in her chilly words. When Gen had complained earlier that evening that Petrus, the palace physician, should stop fussing over him like a worried old woman, Attolia had asked, archly,"And me as well?"
"When you stop fussing," Gen had said, slipping to his knees beside her couch, "I will sleep with two knives under my pillow."
Allolia had looked down at him and said sharply, "Don't be ridiculous."
Only when Eugenides laughed had Sounis realized her implication: If she ever turned against Eugenides, a second knife wouldn't save him. He almost swallowed the olive in his mouth unchewed. ~ Megan Whalen Turner

In fact, I spent 25 years as a reporter, swearing I would never become an editor. Sitting at a desk, watching other people go out and find the story, and then fussing with other people's words - I just didn't get the appeal of that. ~ Bill Keller

There's an elderly woman fussing with the top of the cream pitcher, trying to get it open. Her purse sits on the counter, but as I approach, she picks up the handbag and anchors it to her side, crossing her arm over the strap.
"Oh, that pitcher can be tricky," I say. "Can I help?"
She thanks me and smiles when I hand her back the cream.
I'm sure she doesn't even realize she moved her purse when I got closer.
But I did. ~ Jodi Picoult

Clubs rattled behind them. Skeet Cooper rubbed the corner of his mouth with his thumb and rose from the bench. "Looks like Kenny's caddy's here."
Dallie lifted an eyebrow as his son stepped up on the tee carrying Kenny's bag.
Ted smiled. "Sorry I'm late. Mom made me eat breakfast. Then she started fussing with my hair, don't ask me why."
Dallie took the driver Skeet handed him. "Funny you didn't mention that you were going to caddy for Kenny today."
"Must have forgot." Ted smiled and shifted the bag. "I told Skeet."
Dallie shot Skeet an annoyed look that didn't bother Skeet one bit. Kenny gestured toward the tee. "Be my guest. I believe in showing respect for the elderly and the infirm. ~ Susan Elizabeth Phillips

Refinement. A man who is decorous and mannerly. One who is– (Nora)
Boring. (Cat)
How so? (Nora)
Have you ever been around such men? They're mewling. Fussing over their hair, their cloths. They're more woman than man. (Cat) ~ Kinley MacGregor

When you know you're ENOUGH!

When you stop focusing on all things that you're not.
When you stop fussing over perceived flaws.
When you remove all imposed and unbelievable expectations on yourself.
When you start celebrating yourself more.
When you focus on all that you are.
When you start believing that your perceived flaws are just that - perception... ~ Malebo Sephodi

I don't particularly like babies. I don't mind them for about four minutes. That's my max. After that I can't quite see what everyone's fussing about. ~ Hugh Grant

I realize I have a lot of amazing opportunities, but I don't know how you can play a human being going through real human experiences without being able to walk down the street. If you can't live a real life, how do you play a real person? It always confuses me when actors work back-to-back-to-back with no break. If you live your life on a film set, how the hell can you relate to real people? You don't know what its like to not have people fussing over you all day, and that's not life - that's silly movies. I will always want to take breaks and I wouldn't be OK with losing that. ~ Emma Stone

Has anyone by fussing before the mirror ever gotten taller by so much as an inch? If fussing can't even do that, why fuss at all? Walk into the fields and look at the wildflowers. They don't fuss with their appearance - but have you ever seen color and design quite like it? The ten best-dressed men and women in the country look shabby alongside them. If God gives such attention to the wildflowers, most of them never even seen, don't you think he'll attend to you, take pride in you, do his best for you? 29-32 What I'm trying to do here is get you to relax, not be so preoccupied with getting so you can respond to God's giving. People who don't know God and the way he works fuss over these things, but you know both God and how he works. Steep yourself in God-reality, God-initiative, God-provisions. You'll find all your everyday human concerns will be met. Don't be afraid of missing out. You're my dearest friends! The Father wants to give you the very kingdom itself. ~ Eugene H. Peterson

During the crushing insomnia brought on by his asthma he would measure and remeasure the depth of his misfortune as he went through the shadowy house where the senile fussing of Úrsula had instilled a fear of the world in him. ~ Gabriel Garcia Marquez

The corollary of constant change is ignorance. This is not often talked about: we computer experts barely know what we're doing. We're good at fussing and figuring out. We function well in a sea of unknowns. Our experience has only prepared us to deal with confusion. A programmer who denies this is probably lying, or else is densely unaware of himself. ~ Ellen Ullman

I want you to notice nature, how geese are in flight and they form a V in a leadership role ... The lead goose, when he gets tired of flapping his wings, he drops to the back and the next goose comes up front. Without stopping, without fussing, without whining. He becomes that next leader, he or she, that's what we have to do. ~ Judy Bonds

Fussing over food was important. It gave a shape to the day: breakfast, lunch, dinner; beginning, middle, end. ~ Robert Hellenga

The child thinks of growing old as an almost obscene calamity, which for some mysterious reason will never happen to itself. All who have passed the age of thirty are joyless grotesques, endlessly fussing about things of no importance and staying alive without, so far as the child can see, having anything to live for. Only child life is real life. ~ George Orwell

She, his Dolly, forever fussing and worrying over household details, ~ Leo Tolstoy

I was growing tired of all the fussing and prevaricating, of the stolen hours and the secret rendez-vous; of the small indignities and broad discomfort that are part and parcel of adultery. ~ Vicki Baum

Actually, I'm glad I'm not rich. I've gotta believe that it's harder to die if you are. Not only do you lose possession of all those assets, all that cash and those stocks and bonds and cars and antiques and silver and paintings and vacation homes, but in those final days and weeks there can be no denying that a tremendous amount of your life was spent accumulating and fussing over all those assets, time that could have been spent with family and friends or fishing or traveling... ~ Jonathan Hull

I am fat with love! Husky with ardor! Morbidly obese with devotion! A happy, busy bumblebee of marital enthusiasm. I positively hum around him, fussing and fixing. I have become a strange thing. I have become a wife. I find myself steering the ship of conversations- bulkily, unnaturally- just so I can say his name aloud. I have become a wife, I have become a bore, I have been asked to forfeit my Independent Young Feminist card. I don't care. I balance his checkbook, I trim his hair. I've gotten so retro, at one point I will probably use the word pocketbook, shuffling out the door in my swingy tweed coat, my lips red, on the way to the beauty parlor. Nothing bothers me. Everything seems like it will turn out fine, every bother transformed into an amusing story to be told over dinner. 'So I killed a hobo today, honey ... hahahaha! Ah, we have fun ~ Gillian Flynn