Im Too Deep Quotes

Then what's wrong?"
He couldn't be that obtuse. "You're kidding, right?"
"Ah, yeah, gotcha. Modesty issue, huh?" He drove in a deceptively relaxed way. "Look, yours isn't the first tail I've ever seen, okay?"
Fury stole Priss's breath. She reacted without thinking, slugging his hard in the shoulder.
"Ow!" He grabbed her wrist and tossed her hand back at her. "I was trying to comfort you, woman."
"Comfort!" He couldn't be serious. No man could be that dense. "You're a . . . a Neanderthal!"
"Am not."
Flattened by his careless attitude, Priss stared at him in disbelief. He was a gorgeous guy, but still a jerk. Shaggy blond hair, darker and more unkempt than Trace's, piercing green eyes, a strong jaw and . . . she peeked at his naked chest . . . Built.
Her chin lifted. "Where in the world did they even find you?" It had to be under a rock. Or deep in a cave.
He glared at her. "They who?"
"Trace and Dare."
Giving her a cautious frown, Jackson rubbed at one bloodshot, swollen eye. "That's top secret."
That's top secret, she mouthed, making fun of him, lashing out in her embarrassment.
He went rigid with affront. "Goddamn it, woman, you blinded me, nutted me, and damn near clubbed me to death. Now you have to ridicule me, too?"
He dared to complain to her? "You snuck into my bathroom. You saw me naked!"
"Yeah." His mouth twitched. He nodded just a little. "Yeah, I did." As he turned on his headlights and pull ~ Lori Foster

Elphaba gave him a sidelong glance. "I think you enjoy going to school, Nick. Are you sure canoodling with teenage girls isn't your ulterior motive?"
"Perish the thought, Elphaba, perish the thought. I'm too old for that." Nick winked. "By about eight hundred years. ~ Abramelin Keldor

The richness of our ethnic insults vocabulary was wide and deep. It reflected, all too easily, the more elaborate predjiduces of our parents (not my parents), which in their rabid form, had already resulted in tribal bloodbaths. ~ Andrei Codrescu

I'd like to think I wouldn't do it again if I had the chance. That the pain is just too hard to bear, but deep down, I know I would. ~ Paige P. Horne

No 'rules.' What are you, British or something? I guess I'm too nice ... No wonder people take advantage of me. ~ Alfonso Cuaron

A man is a beautiful thing, a very beautiful thing. But some men forget this. And sometimes they try to keep other men captive. They buy and sell people, as if human beings are no more than cattle. But only a fool believes he can really own another man, and only a fool will try. Mr. Finley may own my body, but I have a heart and I have a mind, and he can never own these. Inside of me, I'm too powerful to be owned by anyone. Inside, I am like the sun. ~ Stacy Chbosky

I just don't want people to think I'm too sweet of a boy; and little miss angel boy, because I'm going to get caught doing somebody horrible. ~ Michael Buble

Many of my books emerged from deep online conversations with friends. I merely had to delete their deep ignorant sayings, which nonetheless forced me to reconstruct a new insight. Because, you see, a rotten apple can feed a growing apple tree but never replace it or do more than that once its job is done. Likewise, most human beings only exist to feed you with their rotting ignorance. They have nothing else inside of themselves. And that's exactly how you should see them, because that's how they see themselves too. ~ Robin Sacredfire

I admire a person who, for the love of art, is able to take off their clothes in front of a camera. But I'm not capable, I'm too cowardly for that. ~ Shakira

Calling something "new age" is one of the media's biggest canons. If you're called "new age," you couldn't possibly be serious, you couldn't possibly have anything deep to say, and you probably hang out in California too much - and we know that no one in California reads books or has any serious thoughts! ~ Marianne Williamson

What future did the Jazter see for himself, exactly? Would his days of shikar continue indefinitely, or did he dare look beyond the beaches and the train stations and the alleys? Could he, in some part buried deep within, secretly crave conventionality? (Or was that too much of a heresy?) ~ Manil Suri

Ethan's voice was choked. "I realize now, what my father felt. When I left home. He must have felt as if everything was ending. That everything he knew was finishing. I wasn't even aware of what he was going through, how it felt for him. I was so caught up in the excitement of moving out and having a job that would buy me a car. I was so eager to leave. His heart was breaking, and I totally missed it. I was completely unaware that his whole world was changing too. But for him it wasn't gaining, it was losing. He was losing part of himself. The part of his life that had focused on me and my mother for seventeen years was ending, and I never even noticed."

For a moment, Leo thought Ethan was about to ask him to stay. If he does, I will, Leo thought.

Ethan took a deep breath. "But hard as it is. It can't be stopped. Can't be sidestepped. No matter how much we want to or how fearful the future looks, we can't stay frozen in place. You can go forward or you can try to hold on. I've seen people that were afraid to let go, that never committed to their life. You can feel the desperate regret emanate from them. They know they missed something, but instead of jumping on the next train, they keep looking back for the one they missed. ~ Tom Deaderick

Cynicism creates a numbness toward life.

Cynicism begins with a wry assurance that everyone has an angle. Behind every silver lining is a cloud. The cynic is always observing, critiquing, but never engaging, loving, and hoping.

...

To be cynical is to be distant. While offering a false intimacy of being "in the know," cynicism actually destroys intimacy. It leads to bitterness that can deaden and even destroy the spirit.

...

Cynicism begins, oddly enough, with too much of the wrong kind of faith, with naive optimism or foolish confidence. At first glance, genuine faith and naive optimism appear identical since both foster confidence and hope.But the similarity is only surface deep.Genuine faith comes from knowing my heavenly Father loves, enjoys, and cares for me. Naive optimism is groundless. It is childlike trust without the loving Father.

...

Optimism in the goodness of people collapses when it confronts the dark side of life.

...

Shattered optimism sets us up for the fall into defeated weariness and, eventually, cynicism. You'd think it would just leave us less optimistic, but we humans don't do neutral well. We go from seeing the bright side of everything to seeing the dark side of everything. We feel betrayed by life.

...

The movement from naive optimism to cynicism is the new American journey. In naive optimism we don't need to pray because everythin ~ Paul E. Miller

When we arrived they led us into a room to meet privately with some of the nurses and doctors. They lined us all up in chairs and we went down the line introducing ourselves. I was the last one in the line. When it was my turn, suddenly I was overcome with emotion. I was too choked up to even say my name. I stood up but could only muster, "I can't talk." And I sat back down. I don't know where it was coming from, but my emotions were powerful and paralyzing. Everyone carried on with the question-and-answer session and I just sat there taking deep breaths, trying to regain my composure. Finally, after I was sure my voice was steady and my tears were dry, I stood up and said that I'd like to speak.
"I don't remember coming through here, but I haven't felt this emotional anywhere else. I know none of you were here when I came through or when these other guys came through, but you're doing the same job. You're doing it for other guys here now and I just want to say thank you for what you do, what you have to see day in and day out, not knowing how things go afterwards. I hope that with our being here, you're able to see that we do move on. We do recover. And I wanted to say thank you."
I barely made it through the last few words before I choked up again. Tears streamed steadily down my cheeks. I looked around and everyone else was crying, too. Every guy in our group as well as every doctor and nurse. It was emotional for all of us. ~ Noah Galloway

We never even kissed or looked into each other's eyes. Our lips just trespassed on those inner labyrinths hidden deep within our ears, filled them with the private music of wicked words, hers in many languages, mine in the off color of my only tongue, until as our tones shifted, and our consonants spun and squealed, rattled faster, hesitated, raced harder, syllables soon melting with groans, or moans finding purchase in new words, or old words, or made-up words, until we gathered up our heat and refused to release it, enjoying too much the dark language we had suddenly stumbled upon, craved to, carved to, not a communication really but a channeling of our rumored desires, hers for all I know gone to Black Forests and wolves, mine banging back to a familiar form, that great revenant mystery I still could only hear the shape of, which in spite of our separate lusts and individual cries still continued to drive us deeper into stranger tones, our mutual desire to keep gripping the burn fueled by sound. ~ Mark Z. Danielewski

If your child can't resist throwing gravel in the park, in spite of your efforts to offer tempting alternatives, you can say, "I'm taking you home now. I don't want anyone to get hit by a rock, even a little one."

If your child wants to help put pancake batter in the pan, but despite friendly reminders you can't convince him not to jump around at the stove, you can say, "I can't cook with you now. I'm too worried about burns."

If your child refuses to get in his carseat, "I can see the seat belt is uncomfortable. You feel freer without it. I can't take you to your friend's house without the belt buckled." Or, "I don't want to be late for work. I'm buckling you in. I know how much you hate it! ~ Joanna Faber

I'm too old to know everything ~ Oscar Wilde

He liked how it felt too, pulling himself up a wall stone by stone, fingers and toes digging hard into the small crevices between. He always took off his boots and went barefoot when he climbed; it made him feel as if he had four hands instead of two. He liked the deep, sweet ache it left in the muscles afterward. He liked the way the air tasted way up high, sweet and cold as a winter peach. He liked the birds: the crows in the broken tower, the tiny little sparrows that nested in cracks between the stones, the ancient owl that slept in the dusty loft above the old armory. Bran knew them all. Most of all, he liked going places that no one else could go, and seeing the grey sprawl of Winterfell in a way that no one else ever saw it. ~ George R R Martin

It's specifically this Z = 2^(Aleph0) that he couldn't prove. Ever. Despite years of unimaginable doodling. Whether it's what unhinged him or not is an unanswerable question, but it is true that his inability to prove the C.H. caused Cantor pain for the rest of his life; he considered it his great failure. This too, in hindsight, is sad, because professional mathematicians now know exactly why G. Cantor could neither prove nor disprove the C.H. The reasons are deep and important and go corrosively to the root of axiomatic set theory's formal Consistency, in rather the same way that K. Godel's Incompleteness proofs deracinate all math as a formal system. Once again, the issues here can be only sketched or synopsized (although this time Godel is directly involved, so the whole thing is probably fleshed out in the Great Discoveries Series' Godel booklet). ~ David Foster Wallace

A few days earlier, Chess and Thomas had driven to Spokane for a cheap hamburger. They walked in downtown Spokane and stumbled onto a drunk couple arguing.
"Get the fuck away from me!" the drunk woman yelled at her drunk husband, who squeezed his hand into a fist like he meant to hit her.
Thomas and Chess flinched, then froze, transported back to all of those drunken arguments they'd witnessed and survived.
The drunk couple in downtown Spokane pulled at each other's clothes and hearts, but they were white people. Chess and Thomas knew that white people hurt each other, too. Chess knew that white people felt pain just like Indians, Nerve endings, messages to the brain, reflexes. The doctor swung hammer against knee, and the world collapsed.
"You fucker!" the white woman yelled at her husband, who opened his hands and held them out to his wife. An offering. That hand would not strike her. He pleaded with his wife until she fell back into his arms. That white woman and man held each other while Chess and Thomas watched. A hundred strangers walked by and never noticed any of it.
After that, Chess and Thomas had sat in the van in a downtown parking lot. Thomas began to weep, deep ragged tears that rose along his rib cage, filled his mouth and nose, and exploded out. ~ Sherman Alexie

This was my ambition: to become a good wife and mother. Plus one improbable extra: [ ... ] to find, deep inside, my own wiser self, to locate my own special future.
I thought these were modest ambitions. They didn't seem too yawning or huge. But perhaps wanting what's essential and simple is the most extravagant wish of all. ~ Lydia Minatoya

O radiant Dark! O darkly fostered ray!
Thou hast a joy too deep for shallow Day. ~ George Eliot

He played with her, flicking and stroking, his fingers sinking into her wet, gripping depths. It aroused him to see how hard she was trying to be quiet and couldn't manage it, strangled moans and gasps slipping out.
After unbuttoning his trousers and freeing his erection, West braced Phoebe up against the wall and entered her. She let out a cry of surprise at finding herself mounted on his hips, her legs dangling helplessly. Keeping her supported, he began to thrust, nudging against the bud of her sex with every upward plunge.
"Is this good?" he asked gruffly, even though he could feel her throbbing response.
"Yes."
"Too deep?"
"No. No. Keep doing that." She clutched at his shoulders, her pleasure rising rapidly toward climax. ~ Lisa Kleypas

Like a trail through a forest which becomes more and more faint and finally seems to diminish to a nothing, traditional psychologiical theory too soon runs out for the creative, the gifted, the deep woman. Traditional psychology is often spare or entirely silent about the deeper issues important to woman: the archetypal, the intuitive, the sexual and cyclical, the ages of women, a woman's way, a woman's knowing, her creative fire... ~ Clarissa Pinkola Estes

Deep down, underneath all his layers of stupidity, he's a really good man. He may act out far too many selfish thoughts, says all the wrong things at all the wrong times, but behind closed doors he's a best friend. I understand that he has idiotic tendencies and I can still love him for it. He may not be someone that you feel comfortable sitting next to at a dinner party but for me, he's someone that I feel comfortable sharing my life with. ~ Cecelia Ahern

Wardress in a prison,was she, that old hippopotamus? That is significant, perhaps."
Sarah said:
"You mean that that is the cause of her tyranny? It is the habit of her former profession."
Gerard shook his head.
"No, that is approaching it from the wrong angle. There is some deep underlying compulsion. She does not love tyranny because she has been a wardress. Let us rather say that she became a wardress because she loved tyranny. In my theory it was a secret desire for power over other human beings that led her to adopt that profession."
His face was very grave.
"There are such strange things buried down in the unconscious. A lust for power - a lust for cruelty - a savage desire to tear and rend - all the inheritance of our past racial memories...They are all there, Miss King, all the cruelty and savagery and lust...We shut the door on them and deny them conscious life, but sometimes - they are too strong."
Sarah shivered. "I know."
Gerard continued: "We see it all around us today - in political creeds, in the conduct of nations. A reaction from humanitarianism - from pity - from brotherly good-will. The creeds sound well sometimes - a wise régime - a beneficent government - but imposed by force - resting on a basis of cruelty and fear. They are opening the door, these apostles of violence, they are letting up the old savagery, the old delight in cruelty for its own sake! Oh, it is difficult - Man is an animal very delicately balanced. ~ Agatha Christie

Attitude keeps me going or cripples my progress. It alone fuels my fire or assaults my hopes. When my attitudes are right, there is no barrier too high, no valley too deep, no dream too extreme, no challenge too great for me. ~ Charles R. Swindoll

I try not to worry about rewriting books that worked well the first time. I'm too busy writing new books to worry about things that are already in print. ~ Laurell K. Hamilton

I guess it's a good thing. I'm too big and clumsy to take much ease in one of those little gilt chairs, and I'm kind of short on fancy talk, too. But I'd like to go look ~ Walter R. Brooks

You're wasting your time
Giving me that speech
you try to don't reach:
your smile <3
You're holding your tears
Your insides are dead
You're eating your fears,
In a cigarette.
You've waited too long,
to finally see ...
Sunshine in the rain
is as deep as the sea. ~ Ed Sheeran

I like people too much or not at all. I've got to go down deep, to fall into people, to really know them. ~ Sylvia Plath

If you've a notion of what man's heart is, wouldn't you say that maybe the whole effort of man on earth to build a civilization is simply man's frantic and frightened attempt to hide himself from himself? That there is a part of man that man wants to reject? That man wants to keep from knowing what he is? That he wants to protect himself from seeing that he is something awful? And that this 'awful' part of himself might not be as awful as he thinks, but he finds it too strange and he does not know what to do with it? We talk about what to do with the atom bomb ... But man's heart, his spirit is the deadliest thing in creation. Are not all cultures and civilizations just screens which men have used to divide themselves, to put between that part of themselves which they are afraid of and that part of themselves which they wish, in their deep timidity, to try to preserve? Are not all of man's efforts at order an attempt to still man's fear of himself? ~ Richard Wright

After I saw a couple of pictures put out by my fellow comedy-directors, which seemed to have abandoned the fun in favor of the message, I wrote Sullivan's Travels to satisfy an urge to tell them that they were getting a little too deep-dish, to leave the preaching to the preachers. ~ Preston Sturges

Irritation. I'm too old to get angry. Anger, that's an emotion for more serious things ~ John Schuerholz

My pit of love is too shallow, I can't fall deep. ~ Cecil Thounaojam