What Did I Do Wrong Quotes

Everybody, as soon as they do a good experiment, their first thought in this lab is, 'That can't be right. I must have screwed it up. What did I do wrong?' And that's the best kind of scientist because they're filled with this self-doubt. And if I'm going to be honest, that's who I am. And it's what drives me. ~ Bonnie Bassler

It takes a while to grasp that not all failures are self-imposed, the result of ignorance, carelessness or inexperience. It takes a while to grasp that a garden isn't a testing ground for character and to stop asking, what did I do wrong? Maybe nothing. ~ Eleanor Perenyi

Life is running backwards. What did I do wrong? ~ Kiana Davenport

Why did you stop talking to me?" she asks. "After all those years of seeing each other day in and day out, why did you stop being my friend?" She pauses, and I lower my head because each and every word is a paper cut on my heart. "What did I do wrong?"
I shake my head because I got nothing. Nothing that will make sense to her. What's worse, I don't have anything that makes sense to me. At least not anymore. ~ Katie McGarry

Sometimes people freak out when you shoot 40 takes of something. They start looking at you like, "What did I do wrong?", and its like "No. It's not wrong. It's just that we are going to try something different." ~ David Fincher

You know, I once read an interesting book which said that, uh, most people lost in the wilds, they, they die of shame. Yeah, see, they die of shame. 'What did I do wrong? How could I have gotten myself into this?' And so they sit there and they ... die. Because they didn't do the one thing that would save their lives. Thinking. ~ David Mamet

There is an emotional promiscuity we've noticed among many good young men and women. The young man understands something of the journey of the heart. He wants to talk, to "share the journey." The woman is grateful to be pursued, she opens up. They share the intimacies of their lives - their wounds, their walks with God. But he never commits. He enjoys her... then leaves. And she wonders, What did I do wrong? She failed to see his passivity. He really did not ever commit or offer assurances that he would. Like Willoughby to Marianne in Sense and Sensibility.

Be careful you do not offer too much of yourself to a man until you have good, solid evidence that he is a strong man willing to commit. Look at his track record with other women. Is there anything to be concerned about there? If so, bring it up. Also, does he have any close male friends - and what are they like as men? Can he hold down a job? Is he walking with God in a real and intimate way? Is he facing the wounds of his own life, and is he also demonstrating a desire to repent of Adam's passivity and/or violence? Is he headed somewhere with his life? A lot of questions, but your heart is a treasure, and we want you to offer it only to a man who is worthy and ready to handle it well. ~ Stasi Eldredge

He wants to tell her that he is not hopeless, that he is not filled with hatred or violence, that he is not a number, a 300 or 600 or any hundred, but just a kid with no one and nothing, and who would do anything to make it otherwise. Just tell me how, he wants to scream. He wants to tell her what it's like to have the same dream night after night, that he's playing tag with his little sister, laughing, happy - then waking up and not knowing if the image in his head is a dim memory, or just something his mind cooked up to fill the black hole. Do you know what it's like to have no past? he wants to ask. And behind it all, like a ringing in his ears, is the question that really nags at him all the time, the one that has haunted him since he was six years old and his family evaporated. He wants to ask it, then and there and for good: What did I do wrong back then? What did I do to deserve this life? ~ Edward Humes

I braced my hands on my hips, examining the drop, the trees, the lake beyond. "What did I do wrong?"

Azriel, who had been sharpening Truth-Teller in his lap, flicked his hazel eyes up to me. "Aside from the tree? ~ Sarah J. Maas

Anger is a byproduct of betrayal. A narcissist betrays our trust, leaving us brain-fucked then we experience anger and guilt. Anger towards them as we question: how could he? Guilt is an inward emotion as victims often question their own behavior. What did I do wrong? ~ Tracy Malone

By the time kids are 15, they're drunks and they're drug addicts and they're getting chicks pregnant. The parents wonder, "What did I do wrong?" What you did wrong was, you were never there. You had the kid as a status symbol, that's what went wrong. And you're paying the price for it. ~ Andrew Dice Clay

As for the end of the universe ... I say let it come as it will, in ice, fire, or darkness. What did the universe ever do for me that I should mind its welfare? ~ Stephen King

I know who you are," she said. "You're my enemy. The true believer. The righteous man with the righteous mission. The one that jails people for reading and burns the books. That persecutes people who do exercises the wrong way. That dumps out the medicine and pisses on it. That pushes the button that sends the drones to drop the bombs. And hides behind a bunker and doesn't get hurt. Shielded by God. Or the state. Or whatever lie he uses to hide his envy and self-interest and cowardice and lust for power. It took me a while to see you, though. You saw me right away. You knew I was your enemy. Was unrighteous. How did you know it? ~ Ursula K. Le Guin

Damn, Atlantean, what did you do? (Julian)
I apparently made a new friend. (Acheron)
I made a friend like that once. The bastard almost gutted me. (Julian) ~ Sherrilyn Kenyon

no matter whatever i do no matter where ever i go i will always need you... you have made me human... you made me realize the true meaning of love... concern everything... its you who always choose to be with me even when i gave u every reason to leave... i at times feel the vibes of my angel from you and it makes me feel for you strongly... what i did to you in past always haunts me and makes me distant from you... its not me its the devil that hurts you and makes me away from you... but sad part part is both lies in me... ~ Shivangi Lavaniya

Charles did not know it, but in those brief poised seconds above the waiting sea, in that luminous evening silence broken only by the waves' quiet wash, the whole Victorian Age was lost. And I do not mean he had taken the wrong path. ~ John Fowles

As we pulled up at the big school gates, I saw tears rolling down my dad's face. I felt confused as to what part of nature or love thought this was a good idea. My instinct certainly didn't; but what did I know? I was only eight.
So I embarked on this mission called boarding school. And how do you prepare for that one?
In truth, I found it really hard; there were some great moments like building dens in the snow in winter, or getting chosen for the tennis team, or earning a naval button, but on the whole it was a survival exercise in learning to cope.
Coping with fear was the big one. The fear of being left and the fear of being bullied--both of which were very real.
What I learned was that I couldn't manage either of those things very well on my own.
It wasn't anything to do with the school itself, in fact the headmaster and teachers were almost invariably kind, well-meaning and good people, but that sadly didn't make surviving it much easier.
I was learning very young that if I were to survive this place then I had to find some coping mechanisms.
My way was to behave badly, and learn to scrap, as a way to avoid bullies wanting to target me. It was also a way to avoid thinking about home. But not thinking about home is hard when all you want is to be at home.
I missed my mum and dad terribly, and on the occasional night where I felt this worst, I remember trying to muffle my tears in my pillow while the rest of the dormitory slept.
Bear Grylls

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

Success will come when the societal attitude changes and not a single woman in America asks herself the question 'What did I do?'. ~ Joe Biden

did I not tell you to tell your father and mother that you were to set out for the court? And you know that lies to the north. You must learn to use far less direct directions than that. You must not be like a dull servant that needs to be told again and again before he will understand. You have orders enough to start with, and you will find, as you go on, and as you need to know, what you have to do. But I warn you that perhaps it will not look the least like what you may have been fancying I should require of you. I have one idea of you and your work, and you have another. I do not blame you for that - you cannot help it yet; but you must be ready to let my idea, which sets you working, set your idea right. Be true and honest and fearless, and all shall go well with you and your work, and all with whom your work lies, and so with your parents - and me too, Curdie,' she added after a little pause. ~ George MacDonald

Bercelak frowned. "Do we know you?"
"I'm Bram," the dragon said, appearing confused. "I stayed with your parents last summer."
"Oh." Ghleanna glanced at them. "Right. Uh ... Brogue."
"Bram."
"Right. Bram. Bram the ... Friendly?"
"Merciful."
"Of course!" Ghleanna smiled, patted his shoulder. "Bram the Merciful. My father speaks quite highly of you."
"Really? What did he say?"
"Uh ... ~ G.A. Aiken

What d'you reckon happened to the Cattermoles?"
"With any luck, they'll have got away," said Hermione, clutching her hot mug for comfort. "As long as Mr. Cattermole had his wits about him, he'll have transported Mrs. Cattermole by Side-Along-Apparition and they'll be fleeing the country right now with their children. That's what Harry told her to do."
"Blimey, I hope they escaped," said Ron, leaning back on his pillows. The tea seemed to be doing him good; a little of his color had returned. "I didn't get the feeling Reg Cattermole was all that quick-witted, though, the way everyone was talking to me when I was him. God, I hope they made it…If they both end up in Azkaban because of us…"
Harry looked over at Hermione and the question he had been about to ask--about whether Mrs. Cattermole's lack of a wand would prevent her Apparating alongside her husband--died in his throat. Hermione was watching Ron fret over the fate of the Cattermoles, and there was such tenderness in her expression that Harry felt almost as if he had surprised her in the act of kissing him.
"So, have you got it?" Harry asked her, partly to remind her that he was there.
"Got--got what?" she said with a little start.
"What did we just go through all that for? The locket! Where's the locket?"
"You got it?" shouted Ron, raising himself a little higher on his pillows. "No one tells me anything! Blimey, you could have mentioned it!"
"Well, we were running for our lives f ~ J.K. Rowling

For the first time the Don showed annoyance. He poured another glass of anisette and drank it down. He pointed a finger at his son. "You want to learn," he said. "Now listen to me. A man's first duty is to keep himself alive. Then comes what everyone else calls honor. This dishonor, as you call it, I willingly take upon myself. I did it to save your life as you once took on dishonor to save mine. You would have never left Sicily alive without Don Croce's protection. So be it. Do you want to be a hero like Guiliano, a legend? And dead? I love him as the son of my dear friends, but I do not envy him his fame. You are alive and he is dead. Always remember that and live your life not be be a hero but to remain alive. With time, heroes seem a little foolish."

Michael sighed. "Guiliano had no choice," he said.

"We are more fortunate," the Don said.

It was the first lesson Michael received from his father and the one he learned best. It was to color his future life, persuade him to make terrible decisions he could never have dreamed of making before. It changed his perception of honor and heroism. It helped him survive, but it made him unhappy. For despite the fact that his father did not envy Guiliano, Michael did. ~ Mario Puzo

She wants me to take what magic I have left and blot every memory of this evening from their minds. To make them forget so that they can carry on as before. There will always be Cecilys, Marthas, and Elizabeths of the world - those who cannot bear the burden of truth. They will drink their tea. Weigh their words. Wear hats against the sun. Squeeze their minds into corsets, lest some errant thought should escape and ruin the smooth illusion they hold of themselves and the world as they like it.
It is a luxury, this forgetting. No one will come to take away the things I wish I had not seen, the things I wish I did not know. I shall have to live with them.
I wrench away from her grip. "Why should I?"
I do it anyways. Once I am certain the girls are asleep, I creep into their rooms, one by one, and lay my hands across their furrowed brows, which wear the trouble of all they've witnessed. I watch while those brows ease into smooth, blank canvases beneath my fingers. It is a form of healing, and I am surprised by how much it heals me to do it. When the girls awake, they will remember as strange dream of magic and blood and curious creatures and perhaps a teacher they knew whose name will not spring to their lips. They might strain to remember it for a moment, but then they will tell themselves it was only a dream best forgotten.
I have done what Mrs. Nightwing said I should do. But I do not take all their memories from them. I leave them with one small token of ~ Libba Bray

What did this portend? He still breathed, the instruments did not change, his heart beat on. But he called to Peter. Did this mean that he longed to live the life of his child of the mind, Young Peter? Or in some kind of delirium was he speaking to his brother the Hegemon? Or earlier, his brother as a boy. Peter, wait for me. Peter, did I do well? Peter, don't hurt me. Peter, I hate you. Peter for one smile of yours I'd die or kill. What was his message? ~ Orson Scott Card

I have nothing to do with him," L said. "To be completely accurate, I do not even know B. He is simply someone I am aware of. But none of this affects my judgment. Certainly, I was interested in this case, and began to investigate it because I knew who the killer was. But that did not alter the way I investigated it, or the manner in which my investigation proceeded. Naomi Misora, I cannot overlook evil. I cannot forgive it. It does not matter if I know the person who commits evil or not. I am only interested in justice."
"Only... in justice…" Misora gasped. "Then... nothing else matters?" "I wouldn't say that, but it is not a priority."
"You won't forgive any evil, no matter what the evil is?" "I wouldn't say that, but it is not a priority."
"But..."
Like a thirteen-year-old victim. "There are people who justice cannot save." Like a thirteen-year old criminal. "And there are people who evil can save."
"There are. But even so," L said, his tone not changing at all, as if gently admonishing Naomi Misora. "Justice has more power than anything else."
"Power? By power... you mean strength?"
"No. I mean kindness." He said it so easily. ~ NisiOisiN

How do you define difficult?"
"By your presence."
She grinned fully, delighted to feel the tension
dissipate. "Now you are just flattering me for no
reason."
He grunted.
"On the contrary," she said, as if his grunt had
been a worded response. "It was most flattering."
He stared at her.
"What? Did you think I wouldn't figure out how to
interpret your grunts? ~ Anne Mallory

What you said before…" He stopped and seemed to consider his words. "When you said love isn't about control…what did you mean?"
The insecurity in his voice charmed her down to her toes. "Well. I just think that love is supposed to empower, not subdue. To love someone unconditionally, is to give them the freedom to be who they are. There's no room for control. If you're telling someone who they should or
shouldn't be…well, that's not unconditional, is it? And there's no such thing as conditional love."
She waited for his response, but he stayed quiet, so she continued. "My dad always said love is like a stallion. You can try to tame it but you'll miss out on its most beautiful form." She snuggled closer to his warmth. "When it's wild and free, with no restricting fences, it can go on forever."
He didn't say anything for a moment and her lids grew heavy. His deep voice shook her awake again. "But, if you love someone, you do what's best for them."
Though he phrased it as a statement, she heard the question in his voice. "No. If you love someone, you support them in figuring out what's best for themselves. ~ Leia Shaw

... you know what was really messing me up when I got down there to Pittsburgh? Was how young he seemed. He kept asking me things like what did I think of Kanye West's music, and did I think he should hold on to Kevin Garnett in this fantasy basketball league he was in or trade him. And how he wasn't just in this league; he was commissioner of it. Like that was some big mark of distinction: commissioner of make-believe. And I wanted to slam him, one-handed, against the wall, the way he used to do to me, and scream in his face, 'Stop it! Act your age!' ... I didn't do it, though. I wanted to, but I couldn't. 'Honor thy father,' you know what I'm saying? So instead, I grabbed my car keys, got out of there, and took off. It was messing with my head, you know? You get out of there alive, more or less, wait for your father to come see you at the hospital you're stuck at, and when you finally go to see him, he's younger than you are. ~ Wally Lamb

I have been accused of a habit of changing my opinions. I am not myself in any degree ashamed of having changed my opinions. What physicist who was already active in 1900 would dream of boasting that his opinions had not changed during the last half century? In science men change their opinions when new knowledge becomes available; but philosophy in the minds of many is assimilated rather to theology than to science. The kind of philosophy that I value and have endeavoured to pursue is scientific, in the sense that there is some definite knowledge to be obtained and that new discoveries can make the admission of former error inevitable to any candid mind. For what I have said, whether early or late, I do not claim the kind of truth which theologians claim for their creeds. I claim only, at best, that the opinion expressed was a sensible one to hold at the time when it was expressed. I should be much surprised if subsequent research did not show that it needed to be modified. I hope, therefore, that whoever uses this dictionary will not suppose the remarks which it quotes to be intended as pontifical pronouncements, but only as the best I could do at the time towards the promotion of clear and accurate thinking. Clarity, above all, has been my aim. ~ Bertrand Russell

When, some months later, Zoltan emailed me about his decision to run for president, I immediately called him. The first thing I asked was what his wife thought of the plan.

"Well, in a way," he said, "it was Lisa who gave me the idea. Remember how I said she wanted me to do something concrete, get some kind of a proper job?"

"I do," I said. "Although I'm guessing running for president on the immortality platform was not what she had in mind."

"That's correct," he confirmed. "It took a little while for her to come around to the idea."

"How did you break it to her?"

"I left a note on the refrigerator," he said, "and went out for a couple hours. ~ Mark O'Connell

With a profession such as investing, people see the 'doing' as the buying and selling. It is difficult to come home from work, and answer your spouse's question, 'what did you do today?' with 'well, I read a lot, and I talked a little.' If you're not buying or selling, you may feel you aren't doing anything. ~ Dave Abrams

I did everything wrong," he said. "I misunderstood everything. Moon Child gave me so much, and all I did with it was harm, harm to myself and harm to Fantastica."
Dame Eyola gave him a long look.
No," she said. "I don't believe so. You went the way of wishes, and that is never straight. You went the long way around, but that was your way. And do you know why? Because you are one of those who can't go back until they have found the fountain from which springs the Water of Life. And that's the most secret place in Fantastica. There's no simple way of getting there."
After a short silence she added: "But every way that leads there is the right one. ~ Michael Ende

He fixed her in his gaze and set his jaw, his hands twitching at his sides. "You feel something for me," he said, daring her to try and deny it.
There was no point trying to hide it now. She looked away, numb.
"You can't feel that way about me." He lowered his voice. "It'll only get you hurt."
"Oh, come on! That's so cliche! What's that even supposed to mean?"
"It means my life is one that prevents me from the luxury of silly romantic notions. I can't have you look at me the way you just did. I don't care what Agatha's told you, or what she thinks she knows. This isn't going to happen, okay?"
Silly romantic notions? Farley's embarrassment quickly moved aside to make room for her anger. "Agatha hasn't told me anything. None of you ever do. You're right, I do feel something for you, but don't worry. From your reaction, it's pretty clear that the feeling's not mutual. I'm not some crazy stalker. I'd appreciate it if you wouldn't flatter yourself into thinking that I'm completely head over heels in love with you. So just go!" she screamed, destroyed by his words and the feelings of rejection that coursed through her.
"You don't understand."
"I think I do."
"No! You don't!" The hard look in his eyes morphed into something more pained and desperate. He stepped forward and grabbed her roughly by the arms, the same way he had done in the silo.
"I sat there and watched you for months. Months! I watched you everywhere you went; I watche ~ Frankie Rose

I don't regret what I did," he said. "But I do regret that it took so many lies. You weren't supposed to be so brilliant. I wasn't supposed to care."

"You care far too much about everything. It is, unfortunately, part of your charm. ~ Emily A. Duncan

As I brush my teeth, I scroll through my phone to see if Sabrina texted when my phone was on silent last night.

She didn't. Damn. I was hoping my speech - and that amazing fucking kiss - might've changed her mind about going out with me, but I guess it didn't.

I do, however, find the most mind-boggling conversation in the group chat I have with my roommates. All the messages are from last night, and they're bizarre as fuck.

Garrett: The hells, D?!

Dean: It's not what you think!!

Logan: It's hard to mistake ur romantic bath with that giant pink thing! In ur ass!

Dean: It wasn't in my ass!

Garrett: I'm not even going to ask where it was

Dean: I had a girl over!

Garrett: Suuuuuuuuure

Logan: Suuuuuuuuure

Dean: I hate you guys

Garrett: <3

Logan: <3

I rinse my mouth out, spit, and drop the toothbrush into the little cup on the sink. Then I quickly type out a text.

Me: Wait… what did I miss?

Since we have practice in twenty minutes, the guys are already awake and clearly on their phones. Two photos pop up simultaneously. Garrett and Logan have both sent me pics of pink dildos. I'm even more confused now.

Dean messages immediately with, Why do you guys have dildo pics handy?

Logan: ALINIMB

Dean: ??

Me: ??

Garrett: At Least It's Not In My Butt.
Elle Kennedy