Raised By Wolves Quotes

She dropped her glass and wiped the spill with her sleeve.
'Oh, god, use a napkin,' he said. 'People are going to think you were raised by wolves.' He snorted at his own joke. ~ Faith McKay

Countless self-help books, blogs and seminars promise relief from suffering, when pain and suffering are as much part of life as happiness and joy.The only way to avoid being mistreated in this world is to fold up in a dark corner and stay mute. If you go outside, or let others in, you'll get hurt many times. Ditto if you've grown up in a family rather than begin raised by wolves. Some people will behave badly and will not apologize, repair the harm, or care about your feelings. ~ Harriet Lerner

Before, I liked cars, yachts, a door locked from the inside, and you. ~ Jennifer Lynn Barnes

Practically raised by wolves, we had joked. The monster and the metaphor, and the way they match up that makes the double-edged word of wit. And then you realize what your words have done, and you weep because you're both bleeding. ~ Kat Howard

Its almost as if he was raised by wolves, but wolves who knew the value of a decent education. ~ David Nicholls

Anyway, it's two in the morning and we're taking turns pissing off of the tower (rather than going at the same time, because we weren't raised by wolves). ~ David Wong

I ignored her and continued down the hall. I had only four more hours to perfect the Sausalito. I was worried only about myself. By that stage, I was no longer certain of how the pack felt about anything. ~ Karen Russell

She was still loping around on all fours, her fists blue-white from the strain. As if she were holding a secret tight to the ground. Sister Maria de la Guardia would sigh every time she saw her. "Caramba!" She'd sit down with Mirabella and pry her fingers apart. "You see?" she'd say softly, again and again. "What are you holding on to? Nothing, little one. Nothing. ~ Karen Russell

Etiquette was so confounding in this country. Still, looking at Mirabella-her fists balled together like small, white porcupines, her brows knitted in animal confusion-I felt a throb of compassion. How can people live like they do? I wondered. Then I congragulated myself. This was a Stage 3 thought. ~ Karen Russell

You have no right to tell me-"
"You do not want to finish that sentence, missy. You want to sit down, close your mouth, and eat."
"How am I supposed to eat with my mouth closed? ~ Jennifer Lynn Barnes

I remember watching an episode of The West Wing about education in America, which the majority of people rightfully believe is the key to opportunity. In it, the fictional president debates whether he should push school vouchers (giving public money to schoolchildren so that they escape failing public schools) or instead focus exclusively on fixing those same failing schools. That debate is important, of course - for a long time, much of my failing school district qualified for vouchers - but it was striking that in an entire discussion about why poor kids struggled in school, the emphasis rested entirely on public institutions. As a teacher at my old high school told me recently, "They want us to be shepherds to these kids. But no one wants to talk about the fact that many of them are raised by wolves. ~ J.D. Vance

So where did you get your information? Werewolves for Dummies? No, wait, you watched Underworld? Or maybe you were raised by wolves? Stop me
when I'm warm. - Shella ~ Krista Alasti

They want us to be shepherds to these kids. But no one wants to talk about the fact that many of them are raised by wolves." I ~ J.D. Vance

I was the proverbial child raised by wolves, only my wolves were demons. Wolves would have been kinder. ~ Pippa DaCosta

You always hear about the guy who was raised by wolves. You never hear about the guy who was raised by the guy who was raised by wolves. The problem is, you have a non-wolf imparting wolf teachings. ~ Demetri Martin

Royce sighed. The sigh was new. "You don't know this woman. This isn't your problem."

"I know that."

"So why are you helping her?"

"Because that's what people do. They help each other. If you saw a man lying in the road with an arrow in him, you'd stop, wouldn't you?"

"Of course," Royce replied, "anyone would. A wounded man is easy pickings, unless you could see from your saddle that someone else has already taken his purse."

"What? No! No one would rob a wounded man and leave him to die."

Royce nodded. "Well, no. You're right. If he has a purse and you take it, it's best to slit his throat afterward. Too many people live through arrow wounds, and you don't want the bugger recovering and coming after you."

The old woman looked at Royce aghast.

Now it was Hadrian's turn to sigh. "Don't mind him; he was raised by wolves. ~ Michael J. Sullivan

No one ever thinks about the guy who was raised by the guy who was raised by wolves. ~ Demetri Martin

The lake water was reinventing the forest and the white moon above it, and wolves lapped up the cold reflection of the sky. ~ Karen Russell

We were two throats and one eye and we had no price. ~ Toni Morrison

I don't know why he isn't dead, maybe he's lucky. Certainly his physical self is dead. Before the streets, drugs, IV use, and hustling -medically - his body is not right.
[...]
So there is some will to live in him, to pass on his knowledge and good nature. It's a mystery. Dave is an inspiration to people. He is society's throw-away. ~ Jim Goldberg

He was raised by wolves", she said, "wolves with pressing engineering diagrams to draw. ~ Sam Starbuck

You're going down, Bronwyn. Them's fighting words. ~ Jennifer Lynn Barnes

It's like being raised by wolves -- you don't realize you're not one yourself until someone points it out to you. Sometimes it makes me so mad that not everyone treats me just like another wolf. ~ Elizabeth Wein

Well, she's saving your butt from being sent back to New York, so play nice.'
'I am playing nice,' Aggie insisted.
'For someone raised by wolves. ~ Alyxandra Harvey

Lake breathed out a happy sigh as she approached the row filled with guns. Matilda was my first, but ladies, you know how to make a girl want to stray. ~ Jennifer Lynn Barnes

Noah nods right as Echo opens the door to the bedroom. She stretches her long sleeves over her fingertips. I swear under my breath. She's definitely hiding her scars again. The girl has had a messed-up life and last year she finally found the courage to not give a shit what people thought of her. Leave it to a mom to reappear in her kid's life and jack everything up. Echo and I would have been better off raised by wolves. ~ Katie McGarry

Luckily for me, I didn't know precisely what it was that I'd done to merit a visit from our pack's leader. There were any number of possibilities, none of which I wanted to openly admit on the off chance that there was something I'd done that he hadn't found out yet. ~ Jennifer Lynn Barnes

Could we betray our parents by going back to them? ~ Karen Russell

You know, I'm cursed with morals. I was raised a certain way. I wish I wasn't. I wish I was raised by wolves. ~ Carson Daly

We sang at the chapel annexed to the home every morning. We understood that this was the humans' moon, the place for howling beyond purpose. Not for mating, not for hunting, not for fighting, not for anything but the sound itself. And we'd howl along with the choir, hurling every pitted thing within us at the stained glass. ~ Karen Russell

You've been hurt by every person you ever cared for, except Abby. You raised yourself, and in doing so became self-reliant and independent. You don't need the firm. You can leave it. You're hardened and calloused beyond your years. And you're smart enough to pull it off, Mitch. You won't get caught. That's why we picked you. ~ John Grisham

Everyone who's ever been jealous because it's my face in the magazines and not theirs. Every person who can't believe or accept that someone can reach my level of success without being a total prick. Trust me, it's not the lies that hurt people. It's the willingness of everyone else to believe them. And then there are those who come out of the woodwork to back your accuser because it gives them the spotlight for three seconds. They can't stand the fact that you've risen above your past and that they have no excuse for never rising above theirs. In their minds, you need to be taken down a notch and they need to be raised a few, off the lies they tell about you. Because in the end, they know you, they've seen the real you, and by backing your accusers, they make other people think that maybe they were close to you – at least that's what they claim. It's a sick world and I'm disgusted with it. (Aiden) ~ Sherrilyn Kenyon

He spoke like a man who'd been born in a barn and raised by a pile of porn magazines. ~ Mimi Jean Pamfiloff

What we need is a culture where the common experience of trauma leads to a normalization of healing. Being able to say I have good reasons to be scared of the dark, of raised voices, of being swallowed up by love, of being alone. And being able to offer each other: I know a healer for you. I'll hold your hand in the dark. Let's begin a meditation practice. Perhaps talk therapy is not enough. We should celebrate love in our community as a measure of healing. The expectation should be -- I know we are all in need of healing -- so how are we doing our healing work? ~ Adrienne Maree Brown

In itself, every idea is neutral, or should be; but man animates ideas, projects his flames and flaws into them; impure, transformed into beliefs, ideas take their place in time, take shape as events: the trajectory is complete, from logic to epilepsy ... whence the birth of ideologies, doctrines, deadly games.
Idolaters by instinct, we convert the objects of our dreams and our interests into the Unconditional. History is nothing but a procession of false Absolutes, a series of temples raised to pretexts, a degradation of the mind before the Improbable. Even when he turns from religion, man remains subject to it; depleting himself to create fake gods, he feverishly adopts them: his need for fiction, for mythology triumphs over evidence and absurdity alike. ~ Emil Cioran

What's going on between us?"
I don't know. I rubbed my hand over my face before glancing at Echo. A hint of her cleavage peeked from her shirt. Damn, she was sexy as hell. I wanted her, badly. Would one night be enough, even if she gave it to me? Echo already felt like a heavy drug. The kind I avoided on purpose - crack, heroin, meth. The ones that screwed with your mind, crept into your blood and left you powerless, helpless. If she gave her body to me, would i be able to let go or would i be sucked into that black veil, hooks embedded into my skin, sentenced to death by the emotion i reserved for my brothers-love? "I want you."
"Do you? Really? Because these scars are sexy."
How did she see her self? "I don't give a fuck about your scars."
She stalked toward me, hips swaying side to side, eyes hardened with anger. Echo pushed her body agaist mine, parts of her fitting perfectly into parts of me. I swore under my breath, fighting for control over my body.
"How are you going to react when we 're this close and you take off my shirt? Are you still going to want me when you see red and white lines? Are you going to flinch each time you accidentally touch my arms and feel the raised skin? How about when i touch you?"
She pulled away from me, leaving my body cold after experiencing her warmth. "Or will you forbid that? Will you tell me how to dress or what i'm allowed to take off?"
Her anger only fed mine. "For the last time I don't give ~ Katie McGarry

Formerly when the Govardhanagiri (mountain) was raised aloft by a little boy, the gopis and gopalas realised that Krishna was the Lord. Now, it is not one Govardhanagiri, a whole range will be lifted, you will see! ~ Sathya Sai Baba

When's your birthday?"
I was taken aback by the question. "I don't like presents,"I said quickly, in case he got any ideas. "Who said anything about presents? I'm just asking for your date of birth."
"Thirtieth of February," I said, throwing out the first date that came to mind.
Xavier raised an eyebrow.
"Are you sure about that?"
I panicked. What had I said wrong? I ran through the months in my head and realised my mistake. OOPS
there were only twenty-eight days in February! "I mean thirtieth of April," I corrected and grinned sheepishly.
Xavier laughed. "You're the first person I've ever known to forget her own birthday. ~ Alexandra Adornetto

There are many places a spirit may rest
when life's long march has ended.
Every creature returns to its home
exactly as nature intended.
The cowards and traitors, the liars and cheats,
each in their turn is awarded,
someplace that they deserved to go,
as their actions in life accorded.
Those who proved untrue to their friends
lie thick in the dust of the earth,
trodden on forever by all
to show what treachery's worth.
In the mud of swamps, in rotting weeds,
they lie imprisoned by evil misdeeds.
But the warriors true, the brave of heart,
who valiantly upheld the right,
they are raised on high, to the velvet sky,
bringing light to the darkness of night.
They'll stand there as long as the sky will,
their honor in brightness will glow,
a lesson to see, for eternity,
of where the real warriors go!
So ere my eyelids close in sleep,
these are the words I will say,
May I have the courage and faithfulness
that my spirit should join them one day. ~ Brian Jacques

He seemed normal again, or as normal as Myrnin ever got, anyway. He'd begged, borrowed, or outright stolen a long, black velvet coat, and under it he was still wearing the poofy white Pierrot pants from his costume, dark boots, and no shirt. Long, black, glossy hair and decadently shining eyes.
Oliver took in the outfit, and raised a brow. "You look like you escaped from a Victorian brothel," he said. "One that . . . specialized."
In answer, Myrnin skinned up the sleeves of the coat. The wound in his back might have healed--or might be healing, anyway--but the burns on his wrists and hands were still livid red, with an unhealthy silver tint to them. "Not the sort of brothel I'd normally frequent, by choice," he said, "though of course you might be more adventurous, Oliver. ~ Rachel Caine

I ask you all so earnestly to open girl's schools in every village and try to uplift them. If the Conditions of women are raised, then their children will, by their noble actions, glorify the name of the Country. ~ Swami Vivekananda

What is it that turns people into artists? It often comes from some kind of pain or angst, a need to understand or express something. It very rarely comes from confidence, being raised by parents who want to hear what you have to say and wants to encourage you. ~ Angelina Jolie

Mine was bright green with gold swirls. Adam's was black.
"You have no imagination," I told him smugly. "It wouldn't hurt if you found a pink ball to bowl with."
"All the pink balls have kid-sized holes in them," he told me. "The black balls are the heaviest."
I opened my mouth, but he shut me up with a kiss. "Not here," he said. "Look next to us."
We were being observed by a boy of about five and a toddler in a frilly pink dress.
I raised my nose in the air. "As if I were going to joke about your ball. How juvenile. ~ Patricia Briggs

The only way through is that kissing gate."
"Why is it called that?"
"I don't know." Lottie considered the gate thoughtfully. "I suppose because a kiss would be the unavoidable consequence of two people trying to pass through it at the same time."
"An interesting theory." Sydney paused inside the narrow gate. Leaning against one side of it, he sent her a challenging smile, knowing full well that she could not go through without brushing against him.
Lottie raised her brows. "By some chance are you expecting me to test it?"
Lord Sydney lifted one shoulder in a relaxed shrug, watching her with a vagabond charm that was nearly irresistible. "I won't stop you, if you feel so inclined."
-Lottie & Nick ~ Lisa Kleypas

Shadow inserted his coin. The drunk in the graveyard raised his bottle to his lips. One of the gravestones flipped over, revealing a grasping corpse; a headstone turned around, flowers replaced by a grinning skull. A wraith appeared on the right of the church, while on the left of the church something with a half-glimpsed, pointed, unsettlingly birdlike face, a pale, Boschian nightmare, glided smoothly from a headstone into the shadows and was gone. Then the church door opened, a priest came out, and the ghosts, haunts, and corpses vanished, and only the priest and the drunk were left alone in the graveyard. The priest looked down at the drunk disdainfully, and backed through the open door, which closed behind him, leaving the drunk on his own.

The clockwork story was deeply unsettling. Much more unsettling, thought Shadow, than clockwork has any right to be.

"You know why I show that to you?" asked Czernobog.

"No."

"That is the world as it is. That is the real world. It is there, in that box. ~ Neil Gaiman

When you are raised, as John Edwards was, in a small town like Robbins, North Carolina, you get to understand poverty and unemployment, or inadequate health care, first-hand by seeing the daily struggles of your friends and neighbors. ~ Harvey Gantt

What would you know of struggle, perfect son? When have you fought against the mutilation of your mind? When have you had to do anything other than tally compliance's and polish your armor? The people of your world named you "Great One". The people of mine called me slave. Which one of us landed on a paradise of civilization to be raised by a foster father, Roboute? Which one of us was given armies to lead after training in the halls of the Macraggian High Riders? Which one of us inherited a strong, cultured kingdom? And which one of us had to rise up against a kingdom with nothing but a horde of starving slaves? Which one of us was a child enslaved on a world of monsters, with his brain cut up by carving knives? Listen to your blue clad wretches yelling courage and honor, courage and honor, courage and honor! Do you even know the meaning of those words? Courage is fighting the kingdom which enslaves you, no matter that their armies outnumber yours by ten-thousand to one. You know nothing of courage! Honor is resisting a tyrant when all others suckle and grow fat on the hypocrisy he feeds them. You know nothing of honor! ~ Angron, Wahammer 40K

And St. Francis added: My dear and beloved Brother, the treasure of blessed poverty is so very precious and divine that we are not worthy to possess it in our vile bodies. For poverty is that heavenly virtue by which all earthy and transitory things are trodden under foot, and by which every obstacle is removed from the soul so that it may freely enter into union with the eternal Lord God. It is also the virtue which makes the soul, while still here on earth, converse with the angels in Heaven. It is she who accompanied Christ on the Cross, was buried with Christ in the Tomb, and with Christ was raised and ascended into Heaven, for even in this life she gives to souls who love her the ability to fly to Heaven, and she alone guards the armor of true humility and charity. ~ Francis Of Assisi

It isn't a matter of what's rational or justified, it is a matter of signals. It was the wrong signal to give me. The reason wolves don't kill each other off is that the smaller and weaker wolf always surrenders. It rolls over, bares its throat and puts its paws in the air to signal that it is beaten. When that happens the winner is physically unable to attack anymore. If it were not that way, there wouldn't be any wolves left. For the same reason men don't usually kill women, or not by beating them to death. They can't. However much he wants to hit her, his internal machinery vetoes it. But if the woman makes the mistake of giving him a different signal by hitting him first. ~ Frederik Pohl

My parents were forever making lemonade. Neither responded to problems by drinking too much, taking anti-depressants, overeating, or suggesting they were victims. In fact, I can't recall a single day my parents slept in - the way many of us might when life throws a wrench in our plans. My parents were (are in the case of my mother - my father died in 2008) unfailingly resilient people, capable of waking up each day with a positive attitude, a new resolve to make things better. Part of this was due to their personalities, but it was also because of the generation in which they were raised. ~ Suzanne Venker

Prince Albert, or Bertie, as he was known in the family (his full names were Albert Frederick Arthur George), had been raised by nurses and tutors. His mother had played so little part in his upbringing that only after his nurse had suffered a nervous breakdown did she discover that the woman had not had a day off in over three years. ~ Theo Aronson

We're looking at complexity. We're looking at blond kids in Beverley Hills who can speak Spanish because they have been raised by Guatemalan nannies. We're looking at Evangelicals coming up from Latin America to convert the U.S. at the same time that L.A. movie stars are taking up Indian pantheism. ~ Richard Rodriguez

People who have never canoed a wild river, or who have done so only with a guide in the stern, are apt to assume that novelty, plus healthful exercise, account for the value of the trip. I thought so too, until I met the two college boys on the Flambeau.

Supper dishes washed, we sat on the bank watching a buck dunking for water plants on the far shore. Soon the buck raised his head, cocked his ears upstream, and then bounded for cover.

Around the bend now came the cause of his alarm: two boys in a canoe. Spying us, they edged in to pass the time of day.

'What time is it?' was their first question. They explained that their watches had run down, and for the first time in their lives there was no clock, whistle, or radio to set watches by. For two days they had lived by 'sun-time,' and were getting a thrill out of it. No servant brought them meals: they got their meat out of the river, or went without. No traffic cop whistled them off the hidden rock in the next rapids. No friendly roof kept them dry when they misguessed whether or not to pitch the tent. No guide showed them which camping spots offered a nightlong breeze, and which a nightlong misery of mosquitoes; which firewood made clean coals, and which only smoke.

Before our young adventurers pushed off downstream, we learned that both were slated for the Army upon the conclusion of their trip. Now the motif was clear. This trip was their first and last taste of freedom, an int ~ Aldo Leopold

I was never raised to think that I was pretty. It's not that I was raised to think I was unattractive, but it was just never something that was pointed out to me by my family. They would point out personality traits - 'our daughter is really quirky' - versus what I look like, because inevitably, looks go, so it makes no difference. ~ Mila Kunis

Like This

If anyone asks you
how the perfect satisfaction
of all our sexual wanting
will look, lift your face
and say,

Like this.

When someone mentions the gracefulness
of the nightsky, climb up on the roof
and dance and say,

Like this.

If anyone wants to know what "spirit" is,
or what "God's fragrance" means,
lean your head toward him or her.
Keep your face there close.

Like this.

When someone quotes the old poetic image
about clouds gradually uncovering the moon,
slowly loosen knot by knot the strings
of your robe.

Like this.

If anyone wonders how Jesus raised the dead,
don't try to explain the miracle.
Kiss me on the lips.

Like this. Like this.

When someone asks what it means
to "die for love," point
here.
If someone asks how tall I am, frown
and measure with your fingers the space
between the creases on your forehead.

This tall.

The soul sometimes leaves the body, the returns.
When someone doesn't believe that,
walk back into my house.

Like this.

When lovers moan,
they're telling our story.

Like this.

I am a sky where spirits live.
Stare into this deepening blue,
while the breeze says a secret.

Like this.

When someone asks what there is to do,
~ Rumi

Tick-tock, tick-tock, little wolves. Do you feel time slipping away from you? Do you feel the urgency to pursue me, the one who plans your destruction? I am coming, little wolves. Tick-tock, tick-tock; I am coming for you. And one by one you will fall. One by one the wolves will be silenced." - Desmona ~ Quinn Loftis

As you may know, some of the stereotyped behaviors exhibited by autistic children are also found in zoo animals who are raised in a barren environment. ~ Temple Grandin

I sit here thinking it over for several minutes before I come to the conclusion that I have just been word-slapped by a girl who never raised her voice or used profanity. ~ J.A. Huss

The truth is, every son raised by a single mom is pretty much born married. I don't know, but until your mom dies it seems like all the other women in your life can never be more than just your mistress. ~ Chuck Palahniuk

You don't think it's a little relevant that the guy who is supposed to die in the next year is dating the girl who's supposed to kill her true love with a kiss?"

She was too angry to do anything but shake her head. He merely raised an eyebrow in reply, an action that warmed the temperature of Blue's blood by a single degree. ~ Maggie Stiefvater

Sensing an ally, Priss took two steps toward her, but Trace pulled her up short by grabbing her arm.
"No, you don't," he told her, and no matter how Priss yanked and pulled, she couldn't free herself.
"Settle down, will you?" Trace said near her ear. "You're not helping things."
The woman's expression pinched even more.
Dare started toward her in a ground-eating stride. "Back inside, Molly," he said, sounding more cajoling than commanding. "I'll explain in private."
Like hell! Priss didn't want to lose whatever opportunities this might be, so she shouted, "Molly, help me. Trace drugged me to bring me here, and Dare manhandled me when I tried to escape." And before Trace could muzzle her, if indeed that was his intent, she added, "Some other guy stole my cat!"
The woman's mouth dropped open, then firmed shut again. With one raised hand, she halted Dare's progress. Dare dropped his head and groaned. ~ Lori Foster

I was raised by my mom. My dad was always traveling, but she allowed me and encouraged me to be close to my dad. So I grew up with three parents: my mom, my dad and my stepmom. Ninety percent of the time I was with my mom, and 10 percent was with my dad. ~ Brian J. White