My Man Is So Hot Quotes

A man reduced to despair by a series of misfortunes feels wearied of life, but is still so far in possession of his reason that he can ask himself whether it would not be contrary to his duty to himself to take his own life. Now he inquires whether the maxim of his action could become a universal law of nature. His maxim is: From self-love I adopt it as a principle to shorten my life when its longer duration is likely to bring more evil than satisfaction. It is asked then simply whether this principle founded on self-love can become a universal law of nature. Now we see at once that a system of nature of which it should be a law to destroy life by means of the very feeling whose special nature it is to impel to the improvement of life would contradict itself, and therefore could not exist as a system of nature; hence that maxim cannot possibly exist as a universal law of nature, and consequently would be wholly inconsistent with the supreme principle of all duty. ~ Immanuel Kant

One of my favourite stories is about an old woman and her husband – a man mean as Mondays, who scared her with the violence of his temper and the shifting nature of his whims. She was only able to keep him satisfied with her unparalleled cooking, to which he was a complete captive. One day, he bought her a fat liver to cook for him, and she did, using herbs and broth. But the smell of her own artistry overtook her, and a few nibbles became a few bites, and soon the liver was gone. She had no money with which to purchase a second one, and she was terrified of her husband's reaction should he discover that his meal was gone. So she crept to the church next door, where a woman had been recently laid to rest. She approached the shrouded figure, then cut into it with a pair of kitchen shears and stole the liver from her corpse.

That night, the woman's husband dabbed his lips with a napkin and declared the meal the finest he'd ever eaten. When they went to sleep, the old woman heard the front door open, and a thin wail wafted through the rooms. Who has my liver? Whooooo has my liver?

The old woman could hear the voice coming closer and closer to the bedroom. There was a hush as the door swung open. The dead woman posed her query again.

The old woman flung the blanket off her husband.

– He has it! She declared triumphantly.

Then she saw the face of the dead woman, and recognized her own mouth and eyes. She looked down at her abd ~ Carmen Maria Machado

One thing I really love being a man about Islam is; I can have so many wives and that would be considered as my rights. ~ M.F. Moonzajer

It is not, perhaps, entirely because the whale is so excessively unctuous that landsmen seem to regard the eating of him with abhorrence; that appears to result, in some way, from the consideration before mentioned: i.e. that a man should eat a newly murdered thing of the sea, and eat it too by its own light. But no doubt the first man that ever murdered an ox was regarded as murderer; perhaps he was hung; and if he had been put on his trial by oxen, he certainly would have been; and he certainly deserved it if any murderer does. Go to the meat-market of a Saturday night and see the crowds of live bipeds staring up at the long rows of dead quadrupeds. Does not that sight take a tooth out of the cannibal's jaw? Cannibals? who is not a cannibal? I tell you it will be more tolerable for the Fejee that salted down a lean missionary in his cellar against a coming famine; it will be more tolerable for that provident Fejee, I say, in the day of judgment, than for thee, civilized and enlightened gourmand, who nailest geese to the ground and featest on their bloated livers in they pate-de-fois-gras.

But Stubb, he eats the whale by its own light, does he? and that is adding insult to injury, is it? Look at your knife-handle, there, my civilized and enlightened gourmand dining off that roast beef, what is that handle made of? - what but the bones of the brother of the very ox you are eating? And what do you pick your teeth with, after devouring that fat goose? With a feather ~ Herman Melville

At midnight the would-be ascetic announced: "This is the time to give up my home and seek for God. Ah, who has held me so long in delusion here?" God whispered, "I," but the ears of the man were stopped. With a baby asleep at her breast lay his wife, peacefully sleeping on one side of the bed. The man said, "Who are ye that have fooled me so long?" The voice said again, "They are God," but he heard it not. The baby cried out in its dream, nestling close to its mother. God commanded, "Stop, fool, leave not thy home," but still he heard not. God sighed and complained, "Why does my servant wander to seek me, forsaking me? ~ Rabindranath Tagore

So awareness and enjoying this life can grow together simultaneously. And this is my vision of the whole man. ~ Rajneesh

While I was deep in my fantasy, in yet another episode of perfect timing, Marlboro Man called from the road.
"Hey," he said, the mid-1990s spotty cell phone service only emphasizing the raspy charm of his voice.
"Oh! Just the person I want to talk to," I said, grabbing paper and a pen. "I have a question for you--"
"I bought your wedding present today," Marlboro Man interrupted.
"Huh?" I said, caught off guard. "Wedding present?" For someone steeped in the proper way of doing things, I was ashamed that a wedding gift for Marlboro Man had never crossed my mind.
"Yep," he said. "And you need to hurry up and marry me so I can give it to you."
I giggled. "So…what is it?" I asked. I couldn't even imagine. I hoped it wasn't a tennis bracelet.
"You have to marry me to find out," he answered.
Yikes. What was it? Wasn't the wedding ring itself supposed to be the present? That's what I'd been banking on. What would I ever get him? Cuff links? An Italian leather briefcase? A Montblanc pen? What do you give a man who rides a horse to work every day?
"So, woman," Marlboro Man said, changing the subject, "what did you want to ask me?"
"Oh!" I said, focusing my thoughts back to the reception. "Okay, I need you to name your absolute favorite foods in the entire world."
He paused. "Why?"
"I'm just taking a survey," I answered.
"Hmmm…" He thought for a minute. "Probably steak."
Duh. "Well, besides steak," I said.
"Steak ~ Ree Drummond

A man like me cannot live without a hobby-horse, a consuming passion - in Schiller's words a tyrant. I have found my tyrant, and in his service I know no limits. My tyrant is psychology. it has always been my distant, beckoning goal and now since I have hit upon the neuroses, it has come so much the nearer. ~ Sigmund Freud

Miss Annie, is it wrong for me to believe it was Jesus who asked my forgiveness?" I asked her.
She frowned and shook her head, "Lord, what do they teach you at that school?" she said. Then she faced me head-on. "Did God humble himself by becoming a man?" she asked, every word spoken more loudly than the one before.
"Yes, ma'am," I said. I'd never used the word ma'am before, but it seemed an excellent time to start.
"Did he humble himself by dying on the cross to show us how much he loved us? she asked, waving her spatula at me.
My eyes widened and I nodded, yes.
Miss Annie's body relaxed, and she put her hand on her hip. "So why wouldn't Jesus humble himself and tell a boy he was sorry for letting him down if he knew it would heal his heart?" she asked.
"But if Jesus is perfect
"
Miss Annie ambled the five or six feet that separated us and took my hand. "Son," she said, rubbing my knuckles with her thumb, "love always stoops. ~ Ian Morgan Cron

I will live this day as if it is my last. ... I will waste not a moment mourning yesterday's misfortunes, Yesterday's defeats, yesterday's aches of the heart, for why should I throw good after bad?
I will live this day as if it is my last. This day is all I have and these hours are now my eternity. I greet this sunrise with cries of joy as a prisoner who is reprieved from death. I lift mine arms with thanks for this priceless gift of a new day. So too, I will beat upon my heart with gratitude as I consider all who greeted yesterday's sunrise who are no longer with the living today. I am indeed a fortunate man and today's hours are but a bonus, undeserved. Why have I been allowed to live this extra day when others, far better than I, have departed? Is it that they have accomplished their purpose while mine is yet to be achieved? Is this another opportunity for me to become the man I know I can be? ~ Og Mandino

'Go to My brethren, and say unto them, I ascend unto My Father, and your Father, and to My God, and your God' (Jn. 20:!7). He is our Father by grace through the Spirit of adoption (Rom. 8:15), but His Father by nature on account of His divinity. Similarly, He is our God as the creator of our human nature, but His God by reason of the dispensation whereby He became man. He made these distinctions so that we might understand the difference. ~ Gregory Palamas

The difference between most people and myself is that for me the "dividing walls" are transparent.

That is my peculiarity.

Others find these walls so opaque that they see nothing behind them and therefore think nothing is there.

To some extent I perceive the processes going on in the background, and that gives me an inner certainty.

People who see nothing have no certainties and can draw no conclusions--or do not trust them even if they do.

I do not know what started me off perceiving the stream of life. Probably the unconscious itself. Or perhaps my early dreams.

They determined my course from the beginning.

Knowledge of processes in the background early shaped my relationship to the world.

Basically, that relationship was the same in my childhood as it is to this day.

As a child I felt myself to be alone, and I am stilI, because I know things and must hint at things which others apparently know nothing of, and for the most part do not want to know.

Loneliness does not come from having no people about one, but from being unable to communicate the things that seem important to oneself, or from holding certain views which others find inadmissible.

The loneliness began with the experiences of my early dreams, and reached its climax at the time I was working on the unconscious.

If a man knows more than others, he becomes lonely.

C.G. Jung

This morning, Ray Bradbury is dead
and there is only soy milk at my coffee shop.

I do not know which to be more sad about,
that my body and I are suddenly uncomfortable
or that a man I have never met, far away,
has stopped breathing.

My heartbeat
will end one day.
It is a miracle it's lasted this long,
not because I have wished it otherwise,
but because my car keeps overheating.

My car is huge
compared to my heart.

A writing prompt,
given to me on a bicycle ride last week:
"What is the most dangerous thing you've done lately,
and why?"

I climbed the Pillsbury building,
because I wanted to, because I could,
or because I was bored, or because I know how,
because I know that wearing dark blue at night
makes you look like a cloud.

Ray Bradbury's heart is not beating anymore.

The Pillsbury building is so big
compared to his heart,

but this morning he is dead
and there is only soy milk at my coffee shop. ~ Lewis Mundt

Have a joke for me Tania," he says, "I could use a joke."
"Hmm." She thinks, looks at him, looks to see where Anthony is. He's far in the back. "Okay, what about this." With a short cough she leans into Alexander and lowers her voice.
"A man and his young girlfriend are driving in a car. The man has never seen his girlfriend naked. She thinks he is driving too slow, so they decide to play a game. For every five miles he goes above 50, she will take off a piece of her clothing. In no time at all, he is flying and she is naked. The man gets so excited that he loses control of the car. It veers off the road and hits a tree. She is unharmed but he is stuck in the car and can't get out. "Go back on the road and get help," he tells her. "But I'm naked," she says. He rummages around and pulls off his shoe. "Here, just put this between your legs to cover yourself." She does as she is told and runs out to the road. A truck driver, seeing a naked crying woman, stops. "Help me, Help me," she sobs, "My boyfriend is stuck and I can't get him out."
The Truck driver says, "Miss, if he's that far in, I'm afraid he's a goner. ~ Paullina Simons

Just try to suppose that I may not know how to behave with dignity. That is, perhaps I'm a dignified man, but I don't know how to behave with dignity. Do you understand that it may be so? All Russians are that way, and you know why? Because Russians are too richly and multifariously endowed to be able to find a decent form for themselves very quickly. It's a matter of form. For the most part, we Russians are so richly endowed that it takes genius for us to find a decent form. Well, but most often there is no genius, because generally it rarely occurs. It's only the French, and perhaps some few other Europeans, who have so well-defined a form that one can look extremely dignified and yet be a most undignified man. That's why form means so much to them. A Frenchman can suffer an insult, a real, heartfelt insult, and not wince, but a flick on the nose he won't suffer for anything, because it's a violation of the accepted and time-honored form of decency. That's why our young ladies fall so much for Frenchmen, because they have good form. In my opinion, however, there's no form there, but only a rooster, le coq gaulois. However, that I cannot understand, I'm not a woman. Maybe roosters are fine. And generally I'm driveling, and you don't stop me. Stop me more often; when I talk with you, I want to say everything, everything, everything. I lose all form. I even agree that I have not only no form, but also no merits. I announce that to you. I don't even care about any merits. Every ~ Fyodor Dostoyevsky

Brushing through my hair was usually bad enough after a shower. Letting it dry without brushing it was a terrible mistake. It was full of painful tangles, and I hadn't made much progress when the door at the end of the veranda opened and Ren walked out. I squeaked in alarm and hid behind my hair. Perfect, Kells.
He was still barefoot, but had on khaki pants and a sky-blue button-down shirt that matched his eyes. The effect was magnetic, and here I was in flannel pajamas with giant tumbleweed hair.
He sat across from me and said, "Good evening, Kells. Did you sleep well?"
"Uh, yes. Did you?"
He grinned a dazzling white smile and nodded his head slightly. "Are you having trouble?" he asked and watched my detangling progress with an amused expression.
"Nope. I've got it all under control."
I wanted to divert his attention away from my hair, so I said, "How's your back and your, um, arm, I guess it would be?"
He smiled. "They're completely fine. Thank you for asking."
"Ren, why aren't you wearing white? That's all I've ever seen you wear. Is it because your white shirt was torn?"
He responded, "No, I just wanted to wear something different. Actually, when I change to a tiger and back, my white clothes reappear. If I changed to a tiger now and then switch back to a man again, my current clothes would be replaced with my old white ones."
"Would they still be torn and bloody?"
"No. When I reappear, they're clean and whole again. ~ Colleen Houck

Everything about her is disastrous. She's nothing more than a mess."
"And yet?" he urged me on.
And yet, I wanted to be just like her. I wanted to be an odd character, a freak of nature. I wanted to stumble and laugh out loud. I wanted to find her beautiful disaster and mix it together with my own mess. I wanted the freedom she swam in, and her fearlessness of living in the moment.
I wanted to know what it meant to be a part of her world.
To be a man who felt everything.
I wanted to hold her, but still have her move freely in my arms. I wanted to taste her lips and breathe in a part of her soul as I gave her a glimpse of mine.
I didn't want to be her friend – now.
I wanted to be so much more. ~ Brittainy C. Cherry

What I meant to ask is, is this…usual? What it is between us, when I touch you, when you…lie with me? Is it always so between a man and a woman?" In spite of his difficulties, I knew exactly what he meant. His gaze was direct, holding my eyes as he waited my answer. I wanted to look away, but couldn't. "There's often something like it," I said, and had to stop and clear my throat. "But no. No, it isn't - usual. I have no idea why, but no. This is…different." He relaxed a bit, as though I had confirmed something about which he had been anxious. ~ Diana Gabaldon

As I stand at the edge of the pit, searching for his body amongst all the others, I am slightly frightened by the violent clashes. It seems almost savagery, the way they throw themselves into each other. As I continue to watch, unable to look away, drawn in by their angry and troubled release I see him. His body is sweating, his muscles are flexed and his face holds an expression of pain mixed with pleasure. In that moment I realize their is so much I don't know about the man I am falling in love with and my fear of him excites me. ~ Nicole T. Smith

Who was it who said, 'The promise given was a necessity of the past: the word broken is a necessity of the present'?"
The Italian looked quickly at the American immortal and then he dipped his head in a bow. "I do believe I said that once...a long, long time ago."
"You also wrote that a prince never lacks legitimate reasons to break his promise," Billy said with a grin.
"Yes, I did say that.You're full of surprises, Billy."
Billy looked from the city to the Italian. "So what do you see-faceless masses or individuals?"
"Individuals," Machiavelli whispered.
"Reason enough to break your promise to your Elder master and a bird-tailed monster?"
Machiavelli nodded. "Reason enough," he said.
"I knew you were going to say that." The American immortal reached out and squeezed the Italian's arm. "You're a good man, Niccolo Machiavelli."
"I don't think so. Right now, my thoughts make me waerloga-an oath breaker.A warlock."
"Warlock." Billy the Kid tilted his head. "I like it. Got a nice ring to it. I'm thinking I might become a warlock too. ~ Michael Scott

But I'm not your man." When I heard this fool tell me that...1st emotion 'this bold mutha %#&@$ a'...2nd emotion 'but I don't even want you to be'...3rd emotion 'imma let him know that I will not be talked to like that' So, I did exactly what my gut had been telling me to do the past two weeks and I boldly returned the comment with..."this is over.""Without a doubt, I believe that anyone reading this gem of microscopic insight into the heart of broken women will end up with a brand new perspective of themselves and others. ~ Melissa McAllister

And you approve of your future sister-in-law?" Cade asked.

"Sure. Isabelle seems great." Her sister, on the other hand . . .

Huxley studied him as he slid on his boxer briefs. "What's the 'but'?"

"No 'but,'" Vaughn said. "I like Simon's fiancée." And, fortunately for him, she inherited all the good-natured genes in the family.

Cade furrowed his brow. "There it is again - that look. Like you want to say more."

Vaughn scoffed at that as he pulled on his clothes. "There's no look."

Cade pointed. "Huxley just put on his underwear. Not once, in the two years that you two have been partners, have you ever missed an opportunity to smirk at the fact that the man irons his boxer briefs."

"Hey. They fold neater that way. It saves space in the drawer," Huxley said.

Cade gave Vaughn a look. I rest my case. "So? What gives?"

Vaughn took in the tenacious expression on his friend's face and knew that any further denials would only bring on more questions. He sighed. "Fine." He thought about where to begin. "Isabelle has a sister."

Huxley rolled his eyes. "Here we go."

"No, no. Not here we go. She and I are not going anywhere," Vaughn said emphatically. "The woman's a . . ." He paused, trying to think of the right word. He caught sight of another agent, Sam Wilkins, passing by their row of lockers. The man was a walking dictionary. "Hey, Wilkins - what's that word you used ~ Julie James

My entire demeanor is displaying confusion, guilt, shame, pain, pleasure, and a yearning need for him. Lying beneath this huge man, I feel so very helpless and pinned like a butterfly on a plaque. Lucas's ~ Erotic Storm

Except that the poor other man i was to run off with died, remember. Suddenly there is death. Life goes on but he's not here. There are certain recurrent shocks in life, which you can just steady yourself for
you can take a deep breath and it passes by and it doesn't hurt so much. But this is different. He was such a support for me in my head for so long. And now he's not here even to be there. I've managed, however. Actually I've been so heroic I wouldn't recognize myself. ~ Philip Roth

when my mother was pregnant with her second child i was four i pointed at her swollen belly confused at how my mother had gotten so big in such little time my father scooped me in his tree trunk arms and said the closest thing to god on this earth is a woman's body it's where life comes from and to have a grown man tell me something so powerful at such a young age changed me to see the entire universe rested at my mother's feet ~ Rupi Kaur

I think there's nothing better than laughing in life, so that's nice, to be thought of as someone who can make someone laugh. It's 'cause I think life is hard. You know, my dad was a really silly man. A great Irish silly man. And that's fine. ~ Joan Cusack

In fact, I didn't know how much Chris had done in Fallujah until he came home. We were at a car wash place one day when someone overheard his name called and went up to him.
"Are you Chris Kyle?" asked the man. His haircut and build made it clear he was military.
"Yes."
"I was in Fallujah," said the young man, who turned out to be a Marine. "You saved my life."
"Y'all saved my ass plenty of times, too," said Chris, referring to Marines.
Others came over, including the father of one of the Marines. He had tears in his eyes when he shook Chris's hand.
"Your husband saved my son's life," he said to me. "Thank you."
What an incredibly small world it is, I thought. For all of these people to have been together so far away, and now just meet by chance in the oddest place.
Or was it part of a cosmic plan? A way of showing Chris that he was appreciated?
I felt proud of him, but I also felt sadness--I imagined being the parent of one of these young men, worried about their welfare and yet unable to do anything to protect them. It was an impotence with few parallels.
Chris just took it all in stride, smiling and waving as he left to get the car. ~ Taya Kyle

My, I was scared!" Said Billy with a deep breath.
Scared?" Questioned Elnora.
Yes, sir-ee! Aunt Margaret scared me. May i ask you a question?"
Of course, you may!"
Is that man going to be you beau?"
Billy! No! What made you think such a thing?"
Aunt Margaret said likely he would fall in love with you, and you wouldn't want me around any more. Oh, but I was scared! It isn't so, is it?"
Indeed, no!"
I am your beau, ain't I?"
Surely you are!" said Elnora, tightening her arm.
I hope Aunt Kate has ginger cookies," said Billy with a little skip of delight. ~ Gene Stratton-Porter

Heaven is my throne, and the earth is my footstool: what manner of house will ye build unto me? and what place shall be my rest? ISA66.2 For all these things hath my hand made, and so all these things came to be, saith Jehovah: but to this man will I look, even to him that is poor and of a contrite spirit, and that trembleth at my word. ISA66.3 He that killeth an ox is as he that slayeth a man; he that sacrificeth a lamb, as he that breaketh a dog's neck; he that offereth an oblation, as he that offereth swine's blood; he that burneth frankincense, as he that blesseth an idol. Yea, they have chosen their own ways, and their soul delighteth in their abominations: ISA66.4 I also will choose their delusions, and will bring their fears upon them; because when I called, none did answer; when I spake, they did not hear: but they did that which was evil in mine eyes, and chose that wherein I delighted not. ~ Anonymous

Some instantaneous connection had occurred between them. The very air in the room seemed to crackle with the awareness of it. A wave of heat suffused her body to centre between her legs, suddenly she felt breathless and hyper aware of him. There was no way this man could remain unaffected by the sheer magnitude of the invisible bonds that had just linked them irretrievably together. She wondered what he was thinking behind those beautiful navy blue eyes. Okay so she didn't really expect him to open his mouth and spout poetry or declare his undying love but she certainly wasn't prepared for his next words.
"You aren't going to throw up are you? This is one of my favourite suits. ~ Jane Cousins