Thanks For Calling Me Ugly Quotes

There, I saw Adam messing around with a container of tic tacs. I had found the source of the cinnamon taste of his kisses. He looked up.

"Want one?" he offered.

"Sure, thanks," I replied. He proceeded to knock exactly one tic tac into his palm and hand it to me. "Are you sure you can spare this?" I asked solemnly.

"How many did you want?"

"Well, more than one. Who gives somebody one tic tac? Would it kill to be a little more generous? some psychologist somewhere probably has some theory about one tic tac givers and fear of commitment."

"Fear of commitment, my ass. You should be committed, you loon. If you were intended to have more than one tic tac, they would have just made tic tacs bigger. This is regulation sized tic tac, and it should be more than enough to satisfy your breath freshening needs," he said, sounding affronted.

"A tic tac is not merely a breath freshener, it is a candy," I pointed out, voice rising in anger. Who was he calling a loon? "And they make them small on purpose, so you'll think you're getting more, and so you'll run out faster when someone asks for one, and you will give them a few!"

"Why would someone ask for A tic tac when they really wanted several tic tacs? What does that say about their psychology?! Why not be honest from the get-go about what you want?!" he shouted back at me.

" I didn't ask for one! You offered me one, God damn it!"

"And as fo ~ N.M. Silber

The sun tapped at the window pane, softly but firmly he was calling my name. He said rise, let me place this crown upon your head. I said, it's the weekend everybody's still in bed. This isn't for them, the sun made himself clear. Do you understand, LaNina, or should I call you Lear? I'm up, I replied throwing my diamond in the sky. Through the all seeing eye, he re-energized my life. Now you're, ready, the sun said, as I no longer felt heavy. It's time to hustle, LaNina, I mean Lear, you know this grind stays steady. I know, I remarked soaking up the energy from the sun. Lightly lifted from the ground, closed my eyes, stretched my arms until my refill was done. Let's get it, I yelled as my feet touched the floor. The sun said, wait, I'm going to fill you with more. I gave thanks for the new day & love for God from the core. I'm ready, I said while the sun filled me. I opened my eyes to a different side of life, but much better I could see. I'm free. He said, go ahead but work with you isn't done. I know. However, it was a pleasure coming face to face with 'The Son'. ~ LaNina King

I have time for only one drink," Jordan said, glancing at the ormolu clock on the opposite wall. "I've promised Alexandra to stand at her side at a ball tonight and beam approvingly at a friend of hers."
Whenever Jordan mentioned his wife's name, Ian noted with amusement, the other man's entire expression softened.
"Care to join us?"
Ian shook his head and accepted his drink from the footman. "It sounds boring as hell."
"I don't think it'll be boring, precisely. My wife has taken it upon herself to defy the entire ton and sponsor the girl back into the ranks. Based on some of the things Alexandra said in her note, that will be no mean feat."
"Why is that?" Ian inquired with more courtesy than interest.
Jordan sighed and leaned his head back, weary from the hours he'd been working for the last several weeks and unexcited at the prospect of dancing attendance on a damsel in distress-one he'd never set eyes on. "The girl fell into the clutches of some man two years ago and an ugly scandal ensued."
Thinking of Elizabeth and himself, Ian said casually, "That's not an uncommon occurrence, evidently."
"From what Alex wrote me, it seems this case is rather extreme."
"In what way?"
"For one thing, there's every chance the young woman will get the cut direct tonight from half the ton-and that's the half that will be willing to acknowledge her. Alex has retaliated by calling in the heavy guns-my grandmother, to be exact, and Tony and mys ~ Judith McNaught

Charles had climbed on a bench and was calling out that he had something to say, creating a racket that quickly got the attention of the room. Everyone looked immensely surprised, including Tessa and Will. Sona frowned, clearly thinking Charles was very rude. She didn't know the half of it, Cordelia thought darkly.
"Let me be the first to raise a glass to the happy couple!" said Charles, doing just that. "To James Herondale and Cordelia Carstairs. I wish to add personally that James, my brother's parabatai, has always been like a younger brother to me."
"A younger brother he accused of vandalizing greenhouses across our fair nation," muttered Will.
"As for Cordelia Carstairs - how to describe her?" Charles went on.
"Especially when one has not bothered to get to know her at all," murmured James.
"She is both beautiful and fair," said Charles, leaving Cordelia to wonder what the difference was, "as well as being brave. I am sure she will make James as happy as my lovely Grace makes me." He smiled at Grace, who stood quietly near him, her face a mask. "That's right. I am formally announcing my intention to wed Grace Blackthorn. You will all be invited, of course."
Cordelia glanced over at Alastair; he was expressionless, but his hands, jammed into his pockets, were fists. James had narrowed his eyes.
Charles went on merrily. "And lastly, my thanks go out to the folk of the Enclave, who supported my actions as acting Consul through our recent t ~ Cassandra Clare

A scratch at the door interrupted us. Colin dropped and rolled under the bed again. One of the maids poked her head in. "Miss?"
I tried not to look as if I was hiding a handsome young lad under the mattress.
"Yes?"
"Lord Jasper sent me up to see if you need help getting ready for a ball." She smiled proudly. "I have a fair hand with a curling iron."
"Oh.Thank you." I needed to get Colin out before I ended up naked in the middle of my bedroom. "I,um, could I get some hot water? To wash my face?"
"Certainly,miss. I'll have the footmen bring up the bathtub, if you like, before all the fine ladies start calling for their own baths."
"That would be great, thanks." I'd never actually been in a full reclining tub before. We had a battered hip bath in the kitchen.
The maid curtsied and closed the door behind her. I let out a breath. Colin crawled back out. "They need to sweep under there," he said, sneezing. ~ Alyxandra Harvey

Excuse me, sir." One the young officers put his hand up to stop them. "Are you Furious Barkley?"

"Maybe. Maybe not. Is there a problem, officers?" Doug stepped in front of Furi.

"Damn straight there's a problem." Syn stepped inside the door, yanking his dark aviator glasses off his face. The scowl he wore told Furi this was not a pleasant coincidence. "Thanks guys, you can go."

Furi stood with his mouth hanging open while Syn dismissed the officers.

"Seriously, Starsky. You gonna track my boy down every time he leaves the house?" Doug said angrily, still blocking Furi.

"He's not your boy. And what I do regarding Furi is none of your goddamn business." Syn's clenched jaw made his words sound like an evil hiss. He shouldered past Doug and got directly in Furi's face. "When I've been calling him for over six hours and he hasn't picked up or returned any of my calls, I'll send a fuckin' SWAT team to find him if I want to."

Syn spun and pointed his finger in Doug's face, "That's my say, not yours." Syn's voice was rising with his growing temper, and all eyes were on them.

"Okay, let's get out of here." Furi pushed at both men, urging them out the door.

As soon as they were out in the brisk fall air, Syn rounded on Furi, pushing their chest together. "Where have you been, Furious? I've been going crazy trying to check on you, and you're sitting here casually eating pancakes," Syn growled.
< ~ A.E. Via

Acknowledgements!
My thanks to Hollywood
When you showed me John Rambo
Stitching up his arm with no anaesthetic
And giving them "a war they won't believe"
I knew then my calling, the job for me

Thanks also to the recruitment adverts
For showing me soldiers whizzing around on skis
And for sending sergeants to our school
To tell us of the laughs, the great food, the pay
The camaraderie

I am, dear taxpayer, forever in your debt
You paid for my all-inclusive pilgrimage
One year basking in the Garden of Eden
(I haven't quite left yet)

Thanks to Mum and thanks to Dad
Fuck it,
Thanks to every parent
Flushing with pride for their brave young lads
Buying young siblings toy guns and toy tanks
Waiting at the airport
Waving their flags ~ Danny Martin

Is 'vagina' suitable for use
in a sonnet? I don't suppose so.
A famous poet told me, 'Vagina's ugly.'
Meaning, of course, the sound of it. In poems.
Meanwhile he inserts his penis frequently
into his verse, calling it seriously, 'My
Penis'. It is short, I know, and dignified.
I mean of course the sound of it. In poems. ~ Joan Larkin

Are you asking me if I did something to deserve Gem tripping me and calling me a whore, a slut, and a fat ugly bitch? Seriously? You are asking me that?"

"The answer is no. I have not touched a single guy in this school or actually pretty much ever, not that that would justify a fellow student calling me a whore or a slut. And as for the 'fat ugly bitch'? I presume that's subjective." . . .
"Do you need my BMI? I'm sure that can be arranged. ~ Julie Buxbaum

I would lie for hours by the window gazing down upon the black lake and up at the mountains silhouetted against the wan sky, with stars suspended above. Then a fearfully sweet, overpowering emotion would take hold of me - as though all the nighttime beauty looked at me accusingly, stars and mountain and lake longing for someone who understood the beauty and agony of their mute existence, who could express it for them, as though I were the one meant to do this and as though my true calling were to give expression to inarticulate nature in poems. ~ Hermann Hesse

Don't go searching for a subject, let your subject find you. You can't rush inspiration. ... Once your subject finds you, it's like falling in love. It will be your constant companion. Shadowing you, peeping in your windows, calling you at all hours to leave messages like, Only you understand me. ~ Colson Whitehead

He reminded me that he himself had been very frightened on this same spot, once, not so long ago. He told me he knew exactly what it was like to feel what I was feeling, and he didn't envy me. But now he said that I didn't have to think about another thing for the moment, because he was calling the shots. He was the one who was going to decide what happened next, which suddenly was OK with me. At that particular moment I would have followed him anywhere. ~ Sarah Moore Fitzgerald

It makes me feel like a very special person, that I'm able to make my living with my imagination. I developed a big respect for my calling while I was in school, and it remains with me to this day. ~ Tommy Lee Jones

My time in the Middle East led me to realize that, with a few rare exceptions, the dominant political ideology there - whether you were talking about Sunnis or Shiites or Kurds, Israelis, Arabs, Persians, Turks, or Palestinians - was "I am weak, how can I compromise? I am strong, why should I compromise?" The notion of there being "a common good" and "a middle ground" that we all compromise for and upon - not to mention a higher community calling we work to sustain - was simply not in the lexicon. ~ Thomas L. Friedman

Frank," I said when I reached him late that afternoon, "do you remember in 1978 when you told me that Bill Walsh was the most impressive young coach you'd ever met?" "Did I?" he replied modestly. "And then you told me how impressed you were with that young attorney general in Arkansas, a guy named Bill Clinton?" "Well, I remember thinking highly of him," he responded, still trying to play it down. "Yes, you did," I reminded him. "So Frank, now that Walsh is headed to the Hall of Fame, and Clinton is headed to the White House, I'm calling you for only one reason. "Who do you like in the fifth tomorrow at Santa Anita? ~ Al Michaels

Writing is not a choice for me, it is a calling. ~ Brenda B. Taylor

Colin's chuckles grew more heartfelt. "You really ought to have more faith in your favorite brother, dear sis."
"He's your favorite brother?" Simon asked, one dark brow raised in disbelief.
"Only because Gregory put a toad in my bed last night," Daphne bit off, "and Benedict's standing has never recovered from the time he beheaded my favorite doll."
"Makes me wonder what Anthony's done to deny him even an honorable mention," Colin murmured.
"Don't you have somewhere else to be?" Daphne asked pointedly.
Colin shrugged. "Not really."
"Didn't," she asked through clenched teeth, "you just tell me you promised a dance to Prudence Featherington?"
"Gads, no. You must have misheard."
"Perhaps Mother is looking for you, then. In fact, I'm certain I hear her calling your name."
Colin grinned at her discomfort. "You're not supposed to be so obvious," he said in a stage whisper, purposely loud enough for Simon to hear. "He'll figure out that you like him."
Simon's entire body jerked with barely contained mirth.
"It's not his company I'm trying to secure," Daphne said acidly. "It's yours I'm trying to avoid."
Colin clapped a hand over his heart. "You wound me, Daff." He turned to Simon. "Oh, how she wounds me."
"You missed your calling, Bridgerton," Simon said genially. "You should have been on the stage."
"An interesting idea," Colin replied, "but one that would surely give my mother the vapors." His eyes lit up. "Now ~ Julia Quinn

It is to this dimension of God, a God who cannot tolerate the reduction of a human being, fashioned in His image, to less than human status, that Job may be appealing. Job, in his extremity, is calling on God, saying, "I have no one left. I am without family. My friends have deserted me. You who are the Father of all humanity, is it not Your obligation to atone for my children's deaths as their go'el and to extract me from my current situation as my go'el?" Zophar ~ Harold S. Kushner

I use a professional researcher in New York who does all the legwork, all that stuff which would take me days and weeks of calling, waiting for people to call back. ~ Ken Follett

Tikkun Olam. There is a Jewish legend behind this notion. Sometime early in the life of the world, something happened to shatter the light of the universe into countless pieces. They lodged as sparks inside every part of the creation. The highest human calling is to look for this original light from where we sit, to point to it and gather it up and in so doing to repair the world. This can sound like an idealistic and fanciful tale. But Dr. Rachel Naomi Remen, who told it to me as her Hasidic grandfather told it to her, calls it an important and empowering story for our time. It insists that each one of us, flawed and inadequate as we may feel, has exactly what's needed to help repair the part of the world that we can see and touch. ~ Krista Tippett

And I'm not too great at that sort of comforting thing, especially when my hands are cold and the bed is warm. I carried him softly through the broken street, with one salty eye and a heavy, deathly heart. With him I tried a little harder. I watched the contents of his soul for a moment and saw a black-painted boy calling the name Jesse Owens as he ran through an imaginary tape. I saw him hip-deep in some icy water chasing a book, and I saw a boy lying in bed, imagining how a kiss would taste from his glorious next door neighbour. He does something to me, that boy. Every time. He steps on my heart. He makes me cry. ~ Markus Zusak

Prayer helps correct myopia, calling to mind a perspective I daily forget. I keep reversing roles, thinking of ways in which God should serve me, rather than vice versa. As God fiercely reminded Job, the Lord of the universe has many things to manage, and in the midst of my self-pity I would do well to contemplate for a moment God's own point of view. ~ Philip Yancey

Because I know what it's like to feel alone. I know what it's like to live in a paper world, to be good at hurting people, to think everybody should just shut up and do what you say.
And then I remember that deep down, people are good, everybody's trying, and nobody deserves respect just for being powerful.
So if I've got the voice in my head that tells me to crush people, then I think you probably have the voice that says the other thing too. If people keep calling us heroes and villains, they'll never know how close we came to listening to the other voice all those times. ~ Brennan Lee Mulligan

Were you always such a stubborn, blind, obtuse girl?"
"Are you calling me stupid?"
"Yes, but in a more poetic way!"
"Well, here's a poem for you. Get lost! ~ Colleen Houck

Well, this has been super fucking weird, April May, thank you for calling me out into the chill of the night to make a robot video with you. ~ Hank Green

I'll find you
Keep calling for me, Viola
Cuz here I come. ~ Patrick Ness

J_Doe032692 wrote: I am not a thin person. However this does not give people the right to taunt me, calling me ugly and worthless, telling me to kill myself because no one will ever want me, or to make up songs about why I am so fat and how much food I eat. NO ONE, I repeat, NO ONE HAS THE RIGHT TO HURT ANOTHER HUMAN BEING THIS BADLY.
My throat constricts. The neck brace feels as if it's shrinking and cutting off my esophagus. I reach up and cover the words with my hand and the web site dissolves.
I want to go.
Now. ~ Julie Anne Peters

I guess I was lucky I didn't drown, or smother in the thick, black, icy mud that the river left behind in its slow withdrawal back within its banks.

I didn't feel lucky.

When I regained consciousness, my head and ribs winning the battle with the rest of my body for sharp, almost unbearable pain, my first thought was Chrissy. Chrissy, pulled away from me by the merciless power of the water. Chrissy, lost somewhere, maybe injured, calling for me and I wasn't there for her. Chrissy, beautiful, wonderful Chrissy, quite probably lying in the mud, dead!

My scream of anguish, of pain and loss, echoed through the empty Liverpool streets. There was no shame or embarrassment in that shout, that bellow of emotion. I had lost the woman I loved. Nothing I'd ever felt compared to the agony, the gut-wrenching loss of that moment.

I cried. I sat there in the middle of a street I didn't recognise, not knowing how far the wave had carried me, and cried. ~ Neil Davies

McIntyre hesitated, and for a moment the tall, gray-haired man looked almost boyish. "After all this time ... don't you think you could call me William?"
Amy and Dan exchanged glances. As fond as they were of him, they couldn't imagine calling their lawyer by his first name.
He saw the hesitation on their faces. "Will?"
Amy cleared her throat. Dan fiddled with the new GPS.
"How about 'Mac'?"
"Mac," Dan said, trying out the name.
Mr. McIntyre looked wistful. "I always wanted to be a Mac. ~ Jude Watson

The voice of grief is rather convincing, isn't it? It tells you you're "too old," "not good enough," or "not worthy enough" for another chance at life, that starting over is impossible. This voice in your head is the first thing you hear in the morning and the last thing you hear at night. It drives with you to work. It stays with you at lunch. Its message is so consistent that because of its repetitive power, you may be inclined to believe it. But, as persuasive as the voice of grief is, everything it says is a lie.
It's all a pack of lies.
Do you want the truth? If you do, then start listening to life calling to you inside your grief.
How? Every time you are yearning to be held and loved, to laugh again, listen to your yearning. Do not listen to your fear . . . Listen to life calling you, "I am here, come on over. Take a chance on me. I am your life, and you're all that I've got. ~ Christina Rasmussen

Now if you'll excuse me, real life is calling and there's no room for self-righteous, delusional little girls. Big boys only. ~ Mimi Jean Pamfiloff

For me, something will come in my head and I'll either end up calling my cell phone to record it, or I'll just pick my guitar up and see what comes out. Sometimes it sucks, sometimes it doesn't. So there's really no set method behind it. ~ Chris Daughtry

Friendship should be a private pleasure, not a public boast. I loathe those braggarts who are forever trying to invest themselves with importance by calling important people by their first names in or out of print. Such first-naming for effect makes me cringe. ~ John Mason Brown

I keep having the same experience and keep resisting it every time. I do not want to believe it although it is palpable: the great majority of people lacks an intellectual conscience. Indeed, it has often seemed to me as if anyone calling for an intellectual conscience were as lonely in the most densely populated cities as if he were in a desert. Everybody looks at you with strange eyes and goes right on handling his scales, calling this good and that evil. Nobody even blushes when you intimate that their weights are underweight; nor do people feel outraged; they merely laugh at your doubts. I mean: the great majority of people does not consider it contemptible to believe this or that and to live accordingly, without first having given themselves an account of the final and most certain reasons pro and con, and without even troubling themselves about such reasons afterward: the most gifted men and the noblest women still belong to this "great majority." But what is goodheartedness, refinement, or genius to me, when the person who has these virtues tolerates slack feelings in his faith and judgments and when he does not account the desire for certainty as his inmost craving and deepest distress - as that which separates the higher human beings from the lower.
Among some pious people I found a hatred of reason and was well disposed to them for that; for this at least betrayed their bad intellectual conscience. But to stand in the midst of this rerum concordia discors and o ~ Friedrich Nietzsche

During the war, I was constantly afraid Chris would die. What made it worse was that he told me many times that he wanted to die on the battlefield.
Let me refine that.
He didn't want to die, but if he had to die, then he couldn't imagine anything better than dying on the battlefield. It was part of his sense of duty: dying on the battlefield would mean that he had been doing his utmost to protect others. There was no higher calling, and no higher proof of dedication, for Chris. So there was no sense fearing death in combat. It would be an honor.
That idea hurt me. I knew my husband wasn't reckless--far from it--but in war there is a very thin line between being brave and being foolish, and when Chris talked like that I worried the line might be crossed.
I started going to church more during his first deployment, and eventually went to women's Bible studies to learn more about the Bible. But fitting the idea of God and faith and service together was never easy. What should I pray for? My husband to live, certainly. But wasn't that selfish? What if that wasn't God's will?
I prayed Chris would make the right decision when it came time to reenlist or leave the Navy. I wanted him to leave, yet that wasn't exactly what I prayed for.
Yet I was disappointed when he reenlisted. Was I disappointed with God, or Chris?
Had my prayers even been heard?
If it was God's plan that he reenlist, I should have been at peace with it. Yet I can't say that ~ Taya Kyle

Ivy hugs me tighter. "Wonderful, Rylan. This is good to know. And thank you for calling me...your friend. I love being called that."
Love. My cheeks catch fire and my heart races as we continue holding each other. That word has become so foreign in my house, ever since my dad started distancing himself. But here's my best friend using it in a way that makes me feel like everything's okay and I'm whole again.
It's the same one word - the only word - that could describe what I'm feeling for Ivy. ~ Colleen Boyd

It's a terrible thing being a patriarch. I don't even have a gray beard. But people keep calling me up for advice. ~ Pete Seeger

And suddenly...it made a kind of emotional sense that caused me to feel, instantly, how little sense my earlier...assumptions had made...And with that thought it was as though my father stepped forward to meet me as he had been in 1940: twenty-five years old, newly married, teaching literature and history and religion as his first real job, as an assistant professor at Macalester College in St. Paul, Minnesota.

That stage of his life – and he in it – had always been indistinct to me, as the lives of parents before their children exist always are to those children; but now, holding this letter in my hands, I remembered anew and vividly the numerous photographs in our family albums of him then – a slender young man, intense-looking and handsome, with a shock of dark hair swept back from his high forehead. A radical young man, it would seem. More radical in many ways than my own son was now. A young man, ready, perhaps even eager to embrace the fate his powerful beliefs were calling him to. Sitting there, I felt a rush of love and pity for him in his youth, in his passionate convictions... ~ Sue Miller

I have written things that Republicans and Democrats and all kinds of figures have either hated or felt very uncomfortable about. Because in doing these long projects and books, you get close to the bone. And they're not calling me up and asking me for dinner. ~ Bob Woodward

You would give up your career if you lost your voice for good, or if the impresarios stopped calling, or the audiences stopped coming. But as long as those things are there, I don't plan to stop. There is nothing that makes me feel better than to be with my public. ~ Celia Cruz

Active scholars are uniquely attracted by a high-quality graduate school of arts and sciences. Faculty members consider the teaching and training of new generations of graduate students as their highest calling. They believe that working with graduate students maintains and develops their professional skills more effectively than any other activity. It may be the main reason for the great attraction of academic jobs. Laboratory scientists have told me that the opportunity to work with graduate students keeps them in the university. For them, other options would center on research in commercial laboratories, but there the principal investigator would be assisted by technicians, and that is considered a far less creative interaction. ~ Henry Rosovsky

That's my window. This minute
So gently did I alight
From sleep--was still floating in it.
Where has my life its limit
And where begins the night?

I could fancy all things around me
Were nothing but I as yet;
Like a crystal's depth, profoundly
Mute, translucent, unlit.

I have space to spare inside me
For the stars, too: so full of room
Feels my heart; so lightly
Would it let go of him, whom

For all I know I have started
To love, it may be to hold.
Strange, as if never charted,
Stares my fortune untold.

Why is it I am bedded
Beneath this infinitude,
Fragrant like a meadow,
Hither and thither moved,

Calling out, yet fearing
Someone might hear the cry,
Destined to disappearing
Within another I. ~ Rainer Maria Rilke

I had blackouts, fallen out, of course, the death threats, people showing up, putting guns to my wife's head with mask, and people having shot guns in the driveway, looking for me or announcing that I've already died before lectures and sending it through newspaper - sending it to newspaper columns they send my mother and so on. There's a real night side to my particular calling, which is try to bear witness to love and truth. ~ Cornel West

Tenar, I go where I am sent. I follow my calling. It has not yet let me stay in any land for long. Do you see that? I do what I must do. Where I go, I must go alone. So long as you need me, I'll be with you in Havnor. And if you ever need me again, call me. I will come. I would come from my grave if you called me, Tenar! But I cannot stay with you. ~ Ursula K. Le Guin

Been here sooner," growled Wolfe, calling the pack off with a quick gesture. "But that bitch tied me up. Had to wait for the dogs to gnaw through my ropes. ~ Richelle Mead

What KFC does to 750 million chickens each year is not civilized or acceptable, and you can help change that. Cruelty is cruelty, and KFC is being cruel in the extreme. I am calling for a boycott of all KFC restaurants until my friends at PETA tell me that you have agreed to be kinder in your practices. ~ Pamela Anderson

In the natural order men are all equal and their common calling is that of manhood, so that a well-educated man cannot fail to do well in that calling and those related to it. It matters little to me whether my pupil is intended for the army, the church, or the law. Before his parents chose a calling for him nature called him to be a man. Life is the trade I would teach him. When he leaves me, I grant you, he will be neither a magistrate, a soldier, nor a priest; he will be a man. All that becomes a man he will learn as quickly as another. In vain will fate change his station, he will always be in his right place. "Occupavi te, fortuna, atque cepi; omnes-que aditus tuos interclusi, ut ad me aspirare non posses. ~ Jean-Jacques Rousseau