Why Did You Ignore Me Quotes

Oh shit, I wouldn't use that towel if I were you," Gavin mumbles.
I ignore him scrubbing every inch of my face, hoping that maybe I can rub away the memory of the words my mother spoke to me.
"Seriously dude, give me that thing," Gavin says, Interrupting my thoughts. I pull the towel away and glare at his reflection in the mirror. He's standing behind me with a look of disgust on his face and his hand out. "What the fuck is wrong with you? I just found out that my mom was a slut and has no idea who my dad is and all you're worried about is your precious towel?" I ramble, my voice getting that hysterical squeak to it. "What's wrong? Is this one of Charlotte's 'good' towels, reserved for guests or some shit? Fuck, are you pussy whipped."
Gavin shakes his head at me and tries reaching over my shoulder to take the towel. I snatch it away and turn to face him. "What is your fucking deal? It's a Goddamn towel!" I yell. "Yeah, it's a jizz towel, dude."
I look at him in confusion, glancing down at the towel and back up at him when what he said finally sinks in. He's biting his lip and I can't tell if he's trying not to laugh or if he's trying to think of a way to run out of here as fast as he can. "Hey, what are you guys doing in the bathroom?" Charlotte asks, suddenly appearing in the doorway. "Oh, my God! Did you just use that towel, Tyler?" I quickly throw the towel away from me like it's on fire and it lands in the toilet. "Dammit, don't throw it in the toilet ~ Tara Sivec

My Dearest, Can you forgive me? In a world that I seldom understand, there are winds of destiny that blow when we least expect them. Sometimes they gust with the fury of a hurricane, sometimes they barely fan one's cheek. But the winds cannot be denied, bringing as they often do a future that is impossible to ignore. You, my darling, are the wind that I did not anticipate, the wind that has gusted more strongly than I ever imagined possible. You are my destiny. I was wrong, so wrong, to ignore what was obvious, and I beg your forgiveness. Like a cautious traveler, I tried to protect myself from the wind and lost my soul instead. I was a fool to ignore my destiny, but even fools have feelings, and I've come to realize that you are the most important thing that I have in this world. I know I am not perfect. I've made more mistakes in the past few months than some make in a lifetime. I was wrong to deny what was obvious in my heart: that I can't go on without you. You were right about everything. I tried to deny the things you were saying, even though I knew they were true. Like one who gazes only backward on a trip across the country, I ignored what lay ahead. I missed the beauty of a coming sunrise, the wonder of anticipation that makes life worthwhile. It was wrong of me to do that, a product of my confusion, and I wish I had come to understand that sooner. Now, though, with my gaze fixed toward the future, I see your face and hear your voice, certain that this is the path I ~ Nicholas Sparks

But the one thing my illness did make me realize is how necessary it is to ignore the dangers of living in order to live. And how much trouble you can get into if you can't. We all have to get up every morning and go outside and pretend we aren't going to die ... We concentrate on having little thoughts so we don't have BIG THOUGHTS. It's like those days when you've got a really bad pimple but you still have to go to school. You've got to convince yourself it's not so bad just so you can leave the house and actually talk to people face to face. You've got to ignore the one big truth
life is fatal. ~ Deb Caletti

Can you forgive me?
In a world that I seldom understand, there are winds of destiny that blow when we least expect them. Sometimes they gust with the fury of a hurricane, sometimes they barely fan one's cheek. But the winds cannot be denied, bringing as they often do a future that is impossible to ignore. You, my darling, are the wind that I did not anticipate, the wind that has gusted more strongly than I ever imagined possible. You are my destiny. ~ Nicholas Sparks

We all did. But running away from it never made me feel better. Pretending it hadn't happened was slowly killing me." Sarah hugged the album to her chest, her eyes filling with tears again. "Thank you for this. Ignore the tears. You've made me ~ Ruth Cardello

I look back at Silas, who is adding more sugar to his coffee. "Okay. Fine. One class, but only because I might not get another chance once we're back in Ellison. And you have to promise not to tell Scarlett."
"Only if you let me pay for it," he counters.
"Silas," I say threateningly.
He shrugs. "You and Lett are broke. And besides, if you pay for it, Scarlett will know the money is missing."
"Fine," I say dismissively.
"Great. Let's go get you signed up, then," he says, rising and dropping a few crumbled dollars onto the tabletop. I remain seated, mouth open.
"Now?"
"No time like the present. I suppose I've taken Operation Rosie-Gets-a-Life as a personal mission. It's too similar to Operation Silas-Gets-a-Life for me to ignore." He extends a hand to me, and, without thinking, I take it. My heart rate quickens and I want to pull him toward me.
Oh god. What am I thinking? I pull my hand away again and smile nervously. Silas smiles almost sheepishly. Did he feel the same stirring sensation? ~ Jackson Pearce

I step closer to him and put my hand on his arm.
If he flinches slightly - if my heart contracts - I ignore it.
I'm not disgusting. I'm his daughter.

'But, Daddy? Here's what they mean to ME. They're an act of hate. They're vengeance against me, from someone I never treated badly. They're UNDESERVED. And even if they were deserved, what does that mean, exactly. That if someone takes naked pictures of me, I'm a bad person, so they get the right to call me slut on the Internet? Are you trying to tell me that just because I didn't stop Nate from aiming his camera, I deserve whatever happens to me, forever? I deserved this attack because I asked for it? Do you hear how ugly that is?'

"I never said you asked for it." He sounds different, his voice choked and unsettled.

'Yeah. You did. ~ Robin York

What did Kavinsky say about it?" Chris asks me.
"Nothing yet. He's still at lacrosse practice."
My phone immediately starts to buzz, and the three of us look at each other, wide-eyed. Margot picks it up and looks at it. "It's Peter!" She hot-potatoes the phone to me. "Let's give them some privacy," she says, nudging Chris. Chris shrugs her off.
I ignore both of them and answer the phone. "Hello." My voice comes out thin as a reed.
Peter starts talking fast. "Okay, I've seen the video, and the first thing I'm going to say to you is don't freak out." He's breathing hard; it sounds like he's running.
"Don't freak out? How can I not? This is terrible. Do you know what they're all saying about me in the comments? That I'm a slut. They think we're having sex in that video, Peter."
"Never read the comments, Covey! That's the first rule of--"
"If you say 'Fight Club' to me right now, I will hang up on you."
"Sorry. Okay, I know it sucks but--"
"It doesn't 'suck.' It's a literal nightmare. My most private moment, for everybody to see. I'm completely humiliated. The things people are saying--" My voice breaks. Kitty and Margot and Chris are all looking at me with sad eyes, which makes me feel even sadder.
"Don't cry, Lara Jean. Please don't cry. I promise you I'm going to fix this. I'm going to get whoever runs Anonybitch to take it down."
"How? We don't even know who they are! And besides, I bet our whole school's seen it by now. ~ Jenny Han

Amar loosed a breath. "I understand, you know."
I looked up.
"The forced silence…the voices of this palace."
We stood there, not saying anything. I felt too aware of the space between us. Even with Akaran's secrets spiraling in the shadows of my head, I couldn't ignore the weightless feeling that had gripped me. Standing beside Amar did something to me. Like my center had shifted to make room for him.
"You do not trust me, do you?"
"No," I said. I had no reason to lie. "I told you in the Night Bazaar that trust is won in actions and time. Not words."
"I wish you trusted me."
"I don't place my faith in wishes," I said. "How can I? I can't even--"
I bit back the rest of my words. I can't even see your face. Perhaps Gupta was lying and he really did have a disfiguring scar. Amar moved closer until we were only a hand space apart.
"What?" he coaxed, his voice hovering between a growl and a question.
"I can't even see your face."
A strange chill still curled off of him like smoke and even though the glass garden was teeming with little lights, shades veiled him.
"Is that what you want?" he said. "Would it make you trust me?"
"It would be a start."
"You are impossible to please."
I said nothing. Amar leaned forward, and I felt the silken trails of his hood brush across my neck. My breath constricted. "Is that what you want? An unguarded gaze can spill a thousand secrets."
"I would know them anyway," I s ~ Roshani Chokshi

Little girl, who gave you permission to--Oh!" She bit off her words the moment that she noticed how well I was dressed, to say nothing of the two guards attending me. Her expression transformed from sour to sweet with stunning speed.
"Ah, noble lady, I see that you have a keen eye for quality," she cried. "You won't find better cloth anywhere in Delphi--warm in winter, light in summer, tightly woven, and proof against wind and rain. And just look at those colors!"
I did. They were all drab grays and browns. I held the first cloth up to the sunlight. If that was what she called a tight weave, so was a fishing net.
"I want a cloak," I told her, tossing the cloth aside. "Something long and heavy. It's for him." I nodded at Milo.
"Of course, just as you wish, I have exactly what you want, wait right here," she chattered. "I'll bring out the best I have, something worthy of the noble lord." She raised her hands to Milo in a gesture of reverence before ducking back into her house.
"'The noble lord'?" the tall guard repeated, incredulous. He and his companion snickered. Milo looked miserable.
"Ignore them," I told him, speaking low. "I promise you, before today is over, you'll be the one laughing at them. ~ Esther M. Friesner

He halted abruptly, and this time she did slam into him, but at least it was his back absorbing the blow of her soft body. He could pretend to ignore it. "What have you got on your feet?" he growled.
"Shoes."
He looked down, his eyes accustomed to the inky black. Light-weight sneakers, already soaking wet from the damp undergrowth. "Christ, woman," he muttered.
"I didn't exactly get a chance to choose my wardrobe when they kidnapped me," she said.
Damned if he didn't like her. ~ Anne Stuart

My roommate has a gerbil," Ryan said, grinning. "The little guy got loose and crapped all over my bed. It's just been a crazy day."
Nodding at his silly story, I heard a familiar voice. "That's fucking fascinating," Judd said from behind me. "Then, what happened?"
Judd was stalking me apparently.
He pulled a chair to the table. "What are we having for dinner?"
"Who are you exactly?" Ryan asked.
"Tawny's man. I don't do names or handshakes, so save it, kid."
When Ryan looked at me for help, I shook my head. "I have no control over him. If I did, he wouldn't be here."
"Oh, don't be like that," Judd said, caressing the back of my hair. "I like that sweater on you. Very autumn. Looks good with your eyes."
"Please, go away."
"I can't. I'm your ride tonight."
"Should I leave?" Ryan asked.
Judd glanced at my date. "Just catch onto that, did you?"
Ryan stood up. "See you around, Tawny."
"Can't you stay and ignore him?"
Judd's eyes narrowed. "No, he can't."
"We can still talk," I said, praying Ryan would stay. "He might leave if we treat him like static in the background."
Ryan considered staying until Judd's amused expression faded. "She's not fucking you, if that's what you're holding out for. In fact, you ain't even getting a goodnight kiss. Well, unless you want that to be the last thing your lips ever do before I rip them off your face."
"I'm going to leave," Ryan said, giving me ~ Bijou Hunter

I know you want to fuck me. And I know you wish you didn't. So how about we compromise and you can sit here and say, 'No, Nora,' 'Don't, Nora,' 'Stop, Nora,' and I'll ignore all those protests and slide right down on your cock anyway? And I'll do it because no and don't and stop aren't your safe word. So you can finally get fucked and still sleep like a baby in your big lonely bed tonight feeling all clean and shiny and virginal because, after all, you did say 'no' and that awful Nora Sutherlin just wouldn't listen. ~ Tiffany Reisz

Now that they were in the light, they were transparent
fully transparent when they stood between me and it, smudgy and imperfectly opaque when they stood in the shadow of some tree. They were in fact ghosts: man-shaped stains on the brightness of that air. One could attend to them or ignore them at will as you do with the dirt on a window pane. I noticed that the grass did not bend under their feet: even the dew drops were not disturbed.
then some re-adjustment of the mind or some focussing of my eyes took place, and I saw the whole phenomenon the other way round. The men were as they always had been; as all the men I had known had been perhaps. It was the light, the grass, the trees that were different; made of some different substance, so much solider than things in our country that men are ghosts by comparison. ~ C.S. Lewis

What in the seven levels of hell did my son see in this place?" Horace asks.
We're standing on the street on Thursday morning, staring up at the house, after taking inventory of the place. From here, I can see five different spots where the brick needs to be repaired and pick out where shingles are missing on the sloped roof. The porch sags, and the windows are dingy. But if I let my eyes go out of focus and ignore all that, I can kinda picture what the place might look like after a little - never mind - a lot of TLC.
"It has good bones?" I suggest.
"It's got old bones," he mutters.
I smirk. "Yeah? So do you. Doesn't mean they're all bad."
He smacks my arm, but he's grinning. "Just wait till you get to be my age, and then tell me how good old bones are. ~ Erica Cameron

...you turn and grab my chin--not hard, but the way you do with a child when you want them to focus on you. It feels strange, being touched this way by you. Parental. A siren goes off in the back of my mind, but I ignore it. (Oh god, Gavin, why did I ignore it? Why couldn't I see through you?") ~ Heather Demetrios

Cupping her face, I reclaim her lips and gently guide her body next to mine on the bed. Rachel's tank rides up and my fingers explore the satin skin of her belly. There are so many places I long to go, so many places I crave to take her.
"I want to go further," she whispers. When I skim the waistband of her pants, her breathing hitches.
Further. Damn, my entire body responds. I don't miss the way her hand fidgets with the hem of her shirt. Scared I'll spook her, I don't push her too far, but I'm all for reading body language. I place my hand over hers and her smile appears.
"You sure?" I ask. I kiss each and every centimeter of her exposed skin as I move up her tank. I linger over the material of her bra and Rachel fists the sheet with both hands. She's so damn hot I'm about to forget slow and go for fast.
But I ignore those urges and guide the material up and over her head. I don't know what the hell I did to have such a beautiful creature in my bed, but she's here and I'm going to spend tonight worshipping this gift in front of me. ~ Katie McGarry

Mallory!" Catcher's voice boomed down the stairs.
Mallory fixed her mouth into a tight line and walked me into the kitchen. "Ignore it," she advised. "Much like the bubonic plague, it'll go away if you give it enough time."
"Mallory! You weren't finished! Get back in here!"
I glanced up the stairway. "You didn't leave him handcuffed to the bed or something, did you?"
"Jesus, no." I incrementally relaxed, until she continued. "My headboard's a single piece of wood. There's nothing to handcuff him to. ~ Chloe Neill

Cry Out in Your Weakness
A dragon was pulling a bear into its terrible mouth.
A courageous man went and rescued the bear.
There are such helpers in the world, who rush to save
anyone who cries out. Like Mercy itself,
they run toward the screaming.
And they can't be bought off.
If you were to ask one of those, "Why did you come
so quickly?" He or she would say, "Because I heard
your helplessness."
Where lowland is,
that's where water goes. All medicine wants
is pain to cure.
And don't just ask for one mercy.
Let them flood in. Let the sky open under your feet.
Take the cotton out of your ears, the cotton
of consolations, so you can hear the sphere-music. . . .
Give your weakness
to One Who Helps.
Crying out loud and weeping are great resources.
A nursing mother, all she does
is wait to hear her child.
Just a little beginning-whimper,
and she's there.
God created the child, that is, your wanting,
so that it might cry out, so that milk might come.
Cry out! Don't be stolid and silent
with your pain. Lament! And let the milk
of Loving flow into you.
The hard rain and wind
are ways the cloud has
to take care of us.
Be patient.
Respond to every call
that excites your spirit.
Ignore those that make you fearful
and sad, that degrade you
back toward disease and death. ~ Rumi

I threw the carving of my goddess as high and far as I could, into the sky above the waves, and watched its arcing path through the air. As it fell, I saw a golden shape come diving toward the plummeting image, a huge eagle that seized the monster's tooth in his talons. The feathers on his breast skimmed the sea before he soared back into the sky and flew away.
"Did you see that, La--Glaucus?" Milo's voice sounded in my ear. He'd woken from his nap and come up behind me unexpectedly. I almost jumped overboard with surprise. "It's a good sign, isn't it? Or is it predicting that something's waiting to snatch us away? If that's so, I swear I won't let it touch you. But is it a good sign after all? Ah, what does it mean?"
"You worry too much, Milo," I said as if I had no such worries of my own. "If every hero stopped to think about all the what-ifs in his path, none of us would ever take one step beyond our own doorways."
"But you saw what it did," Milo protested. "The eagle is Lord Zeus's bird. We can't just ignore it. Ah, what does it mean?"
"What it means," I said, smiling, "is that you and I have just seen either the world's most unmistakable omen or the world's most nearsighted eagle." May the gods stand by us, I thought as I laughed and Milo stared at me in dismay. May they favor and guide us, but may they never hold us hostage through our fears.
"Don't look at me like that," I told him, wiping sea spray from my eyes. "I haven't said anything wrong. ~ Esther M. Friesner

I'd like to repeat the advice that I gave you before, in that I think you really should make a radical change in your lifestyle and begin to boldly do things which you may previously never have thought of doing, or been too hesitant to attempt. So many people live within unhappy circumstances and yet will not take the initiative to change their situation because they are conditioned to a life of security, conformity, and conservatism, all of which may appear to give one peace of mind, but in reality nothing is more damaging to the adventurous spirit within a man than a secure future. The very basic core of a man's living spirit is his passion for adventure. The joy of life comes from our encounters with new experiences, and hence there is no greater joy than to have an endlessly changing horizon, for each day to have a new and different sun.

If you want to get more out of life, Ron, you must lose your inclination for monotonous security and adopt a helter-skelter style of life that will at first appear to you to be crazy. But once you become accustomed to such a life you will see its full meaning and its incredible beauty. And so, Ron, in short, get out of Salton City and hit the Road. I guarantee you will be very glad you did. But I fear that you will ignore my advice. You think that I am stubborn, but you are even more stubborn than me. You had a wonderful chance on your drive back to see one of the greatest sights on earth, the Grand Canyon, something every Amer ~ Jon Krakauer

Ali, I've been tested regularly, but I will go again as soon as possible. Tomorrow. I wanna be clean for you. For us." His grin widens. "I'd like that. For you more than anything else." He weaves his fingers in my hair and his gaze is warm. "I never asked you. How did you really feel being an escort?" I take a deep breath. If I'm honest, I try not to think too much about it. Shut my eyes, ignore any physical discomfort and get on with the job. I had no problem with sex and I sometimes did enjoy it. But the emotional attachment wasn't there; not until I met Ali did I realise how arousing it was to want someone so desperately. It was a job that I had mixed feelings about. "I persuaded myself that it was only sex but it wasn't. I was dying inside, losing my sense of self. It's okay as a job but there are other things I can do. I'll find them." Ali's strong arms hold me tight and his presence grounds me. "All I know is I want you. Anyone else will only remind me that I'm not with you." I kiss him again and again ~ A. Zukowski

When he says
He doesn't love you anymore,
Roll your shoulders back
And look him in the eye
Even when it feels like your ribs
Are breaking inward, like spider legs.
When he digs up old aches
That he swore he forgave you for,
Smile
And ask him why he didn't leave you sooner.
Ignore the way the words feel like sandpaper
Running all the way up your throat to your mouth.
When he blames you
For mistakes that wear his face,
Do not scream.
Do not cry.
Tell him that there are boys
Who would be proud to say they'd loved you.
Tell him that in two years
You won't even remember his name
And don't let him see the way you can taste your own lie.
When he leaves
Ignore the howling in your blood
And do not get up after him.
Not even to lock the door.
Do not, do not
Do not.
Smell his shirts when you box them up
To give them back.
Not one.
Swear off dating when you realize
You're chasing ghosts that wear his smile.
It's okay to cry over him.
It's even okay to forgive him.
But do not go back to him.
If he did not know how to love you the first time,
He won't know how to do it the next. ~ Ashe Vernon

Every action is a losing, a letting go, a passing away from oneself of some bit of one's own reality into the existence of others and of the world. In Jesus Christ, this character of action is not resisted, by trying to use our action to assert ourselves, extend ourselves, to impose our will and being upon situations. In Jesus Christ, this self-expending character of action is joyfully affirmed. I receive myself constantly from God's Parenting love. But so far as some aspects of myself are at my disposal, these I receive to give away. Those who would live as Jesus did - who would act and purpose themselves as Jesus did - mean to love, i.e., they mean to expend themselves for others unto death. Their being is meant to pass away from them to others, and they make that meaning the conscious direction of their existence.

Too often the love which is proclaimed in the churches suppresses this element of loss and need and death in activity. As a Christian, I often speak of love as helping others, but I ignore what this does to the person who loves. I ignore the fact that love is self-expenditure, a real expending and losing and deterioration of the self. I speak of love as if the person loving had no problems, no needs, no limits. In other words, I speak of love as if the affluent dream were true. This kind of proclamation is heard everywhere. We hear it said: 'Since you have no unanswered needs, why don't you go out and help those other people who are in need?' But we n ~ Arthur C. McGill

You can't run away from your fears. Isn't that what you always tell your readers?"
I was an advice columnist for Vibe, a magazine about relationships and sex and urban culture. My column, called "Ask Miss Independent," had started at a student-run publication, and I had quickly developed a following. Upon graduating, I'd taken Miss Independent to Vibe, and they offered me a weekly feature. Most of my advice was posted publicly, but I also sent private paid-for replies to those who requested it. To supplement my income, I also did occasional freelancing for women's magazines.
"I'm not running away from my fears," I told Dane. "I'm running away from my relatives."
Ring.
"Just pick it up, Ella. You always tell people to face their problems."
"Yes, but I prefer to ignore mine and let them fester. ~ Lisa Kleypas

I couldn't believe his arrogance. I turned away hoping to ignore him enough so he'd just leave.
"Just give me five minutes," came Flynn's muffled voice through the closed window.
I ignored him. He'd caused me way too much trouble.
"Mercy, just crack the window so we can talk."
I did and immediately said, "You are a solipsistic obdurate asshole." Then I rolled the window back up to continue to ignore him.
"What the hell? You and these words," he muttered loud enough they came clearly through the closed window. ~ Shannon Dermott

You see, when we met I thought, "There's a brown mouse of a girl with a sharp tongue," and then before I knew what was happening I was in love with you. Oh, I did my best to ignore it, and I thought that if I ignored you too I'd be safely back in my bachelor state in no time - only it didn't work out like that. You were under my skin, in my bones, my very heartbeat. And I'd gone out of my way to make you dislike me so that it would be easier for me to get over you. Only I haven't done that, my darling. ~ Betty Neels

When I say I will never leave you nor forsake you, I am not making up some white man's words that mean nothing, I am repeating holy, sacred words that are in that book. Those words have power. I want to teach you the power of those words. For me to ignore my Holy Scriptures and walk away from you, or to take a child from you as your father did your mother, would mean to me that I had lied to my God. I would accept death before I would leave you after making such a holy promise. ~ Serena B. Miller

So what part did I play in all this? Well, none really. They completely ignored me for the whole twenty or thirty minutes. Which was perfectly fine, of course, I didn't mind. But it did puzzle me, because early every morning they would come yelping and scratching around the doors and windows of my house until I got up and took them for their walk. If anything disturbed the daily ritual, like I had to drive into town, or have a meeting, or fly to England or something, they would get thoroughly miserable and simply not know what to do. Despite the fact that they would always completely ignore me whenever we went on our walks together, they couldn't just go and have a walk without me. This revealed a profoundly philosophical bent in these dogs that were not mine, because they had worked out that I had to be there in order for them to be able to ignore me properly. You can't ignore someone who isn't there, because that's not what "ignore" means. ~ Douglas Adams

Oranges and unicorns say the bells of St. . . ." She looked to Harriet for inspiration.
"Clunicorns?"
"Somehow I don't think so."
"Moonicorns."
Sarah cocked her head to the side. "Better," she judged.
"Spoonicorns? Zoomicorns."
And . . . that was enough. Sarah turned back to her book. "We're done now, Harriet."
"Parunicorns."
Sarah couldn't even imagine where that one had come from. But still, she found herself humming as she read.
Oranges and lemons say the bells of St. Clements.
Meanwhile, Harriet was muttering to herself at the desk. "Pontoonicorns xyloonicorns . . ."
You owe me five farthings say the bells of St. Martins.
"Oh, oh, oh, I have it! Hughnicorns!"
Sarah froze. This she could not ignore. With great deliberation, she placed her index finger in her book to mark her place and looked up. "What did you just say?"
"Hughnicorns," Harriet replied, as if nothing could have been more ordinary. She gave Sarah a sly look. "Named for Lord Hugh, of course. He does seem to be a frequent topic of conversation. ~ Julia Quinn

So it wasn't a total surprise that Jay would turn a few heads while they were out tonight. She just hadn't anticipated the power of the two of them together. Two good-looking guys more than doubled the attention they drew. Even among people they knew at the Java Hut that night, Violet and Chelsea became instantly invisible.
Girls not only noticed the pair of boys but also giggled behind cupped hands and waved at the two of them.
Jay was either unaware or chose to ignore them altogether. Mike, on the other hand, was not. And did not. Not only did he notice the interest he attracted, he seemed to enjoy it.
Violet recognized it immediately for what it was: Mike was as much an attention whore as Chelsea.
Violet was fine with that. Chelsea, not so much.
Violet let Jay draw her through the crowds that bottlenecked near the entrance. She liked knowing that he belonged to her while all those envious eyes looked on.
"I guess Chelsea's not the only one who's into Mike," Violet whispered while Jay dragged her over to stand in line at the counter.
Jay glanced back to where Chelsea stood on the outskirts of three girls from school who were animatedly chatting with Mike.
"Yeah. She's not doing too good, is she?" Jay agreed.
"I thought she'd have him eating out of her hand by now." Violet wrinkled her nose, worrying over her friend.
"You mean like you have me doing?"
Violet smiled up at him and then bumped him with her shoulder. "Yes. E ~ Kimberly Derting

There was something beautiful in someone trying to purchase happiness for a dying woman via a three-dollar box of french fries. I remember hoping that one dally someone would buy me french fries if that's all I wanted, even if he knew they'd be no good in the end.
I remember understanding what love really is.It didn't hurt; it didn't ignore your prayers, didn't seem to not care that your mom was dying. It didn't leave you wondering what you did wrong. Love tried to make you happy, even if it was useless. Love would do you anything to make you happy. ~ Jackson Pearce

So your theory is that Nancy plans to marry Samuel, pass off as her own the child he fathered on her maid, and then raise it, assuming it's a boy, to be heir to the title. That doesn't gain Nancy much, does it? It's not her son, and she's not Samuel's only lover. He and his mistress and the son get everything; she gets only the privilege of knowing she's married to a seducer."
Dom ignored the fact that some of what she said made sense. "She gains an exalted rank as mother to the new viscount. She gains a husband she's always coveted. And she might not even care if Samuel was having an affair with her maid--you said yourself that Nancy wasn't fond of the intimate side of marriage."
The moment Jane paled, he realized what he'd said. Something highly inappropriate. Something that revealed just how frank he and Jane had been in their conversations. God only knew what Blakeborough would make of that.
Bloody hell. Whatever it was, it wouldn't help Dom's situation with Jane any. Not that any of this would. Damn Nancy for coming between them yet again.
Jane's gaze turned stormy as she poked him in the chest. "You've got it all figured out, don't you? But as usual, you ignore all the ways that your theory doesn't fit."
He stared her down. "Such as what?"
Again she poked him in the chest. "Why did Samuel mention coming to London to see a doctor if they were sure that Nancy had lost the baby?" Another poke. "Why did she leave York in such strange circumstan ~ Sabrina Jeffries

Now many crises in people's lives occur because the hero role that they've assumed for one situation or set of situations no longer applies to some new situation that comes up, or–the same thing in effect–because they haven't the imagination to distort the new situation to fit their old role. This happens to parents, for instance, when their children grow older, and to lovers when one of them begins to dislike the other. If the new situation is too overpowering to ignore, and they can't find a mask to meet it with, they may become schizophrenic–a last-resort mask–or simply shattered. All questions of integrity involve this consideration, because a man's integrity consists in being faithful to the script he's written for himself.
"I've said you're too unstable to play any one part all the time–you're also too unimaginative–so for you these crises had better be met by changing scripts as often as necessary. This should come naturally to you; the important thing for you is to realize what you're doing so you won't get caught without a script, or with the wrong script in a given situation. You did quite well, for example, for a beginner, to walk in here so confidently and almost arrogantly a while ago, and assign me the role of a quack. But you must be able to change masks at once if by some means or other I'm able to make the one you walked in with untenable. Perhaps–I'm just suggesting an offhand possibility–you could change to thinking of me as The Sagacious Old Mentor, a ~ John Barth

Hey," he said smiling at me pulling off his sunglasses. "Did you get me something good?"
"I think so," I said trying to ignore how hard my heart was beating. Then before I could think about it or analyze or consider what I was doing I leaned over and kissed him. ~ Morgan Matson

We want the right people, the ones who love to play football. I want a guy who, if I punch him in the mouth, doesn't stand there and say, ?Why did you punch me?' I want the guy who punches me back first, and then asks me why I did it. ~ Matt Millen

I watched the enormity of the clouds for several minutes. What I wanted to experience in the water, I realized, was how life of the reef was layered and intertwined. I now had many individual pieces at hand: named images, nouns. How were they related? What were the verbs? Which syntaxes were indigenous to the place? I asked a dozen knowledgeable people. No one was inclined to elaborate- or they didn't know. "Did you see the octopus?" Someone shouted after the dive. Yes, I thought, but who among us knows what it was doing? What else was THERE, just then? WHY? ~ Barry Lopez

Why did he kiss you?" she said. ~ Cassandra Clare

Why did you take so much trouble with me today? I know how you hate to move out of that house." "Because you're my child. You and Jem were the children I never had. You two gave me something long ago, and I'm trying to pay my debts. You two helped me a - " "How, sir? ~ Harper Lee

I have met people who truly do not believe in God, and they feel no anger when they see suffering. They are indifferent to it. But you and I are angry. Anger is not indifference. I blamed God because He took my family. But I couldn't get revenge from God, so I turned my rage against other people. I wanted revenge. Someone must pay."

"You're wrong." Helen said, wanting desperately to believe that he was. "I told you, I no longer believe in God."

"Then why are you so angry with Him?" His eyes were so sorrowful that Helen had to look away. She was unable to reply.

"You blame me and my country for your losses Miss Kimball. And I blame you and your country. But you and I are people, not countries. Did you kill my wife? My child? Would you put a gun to their heads and shoot them, or take away all of their food and watch them die? No, of course not. Neither would I kill someone you loved if I met him face to face. Wars come from bitterness and hatred. They are started by nations without face. But wars end when the hatred ends in the hearts of people like you and me. That is why I ask you to please forgive me. ~ Lynn Austin

Just tell me what's so irritating."(katsu)
That's none of your damn business!"(kyok)
Maybe not. But I'm curious."(katsu)
It's EVERYTHING you prick! God, you're annoying! It's everything,okay?! EVERYTHING PISSES ME OFF! Them! And them! And them! And YOU! Everyone and everything!I HATE YOUR GODDAMN GUTS! You just...You all treat people like garbage. But you're all just as bad!QUIT TRYING TO ACT LIKE YOU'RE ALL FRIGGIN' PERFECT! Leave me alone. I wish everyone would just...go. Get out of my life. I'd be better off with YOU DEAD! DIE! DIE! GO TO HELL! YOU DISAPPEAR! YOU FALL APART!"(kyok)
Really? I think you WANT them to care. You want them to look at you, don't you? All those people. You want them to need you. You want them.....to listen to you. To understand somehow. You want them to accept you. I think.... you want them to love you.You know something? I'm like that, too."(katsu)
... Wh-why? Why did I....turn out....like this?"(kyok)
You're asking me?"(katsu)
That's what..That's what I wanna know. Why? Why...did I..?!"(kyok)
Where did she go wrong? What was her mistake? "I'm miserable. I feel so alone!"(kyok)
-Katsuya and Kyoko Honda ~ Natsuki Takaya

I read The Hunger Games voraciously and was extremely annoyed when interrupted by such inconsequential things as 'Christmas dinner.' (God, Mom, did you not understand Katniss was being pursued by the mutts? You have several children, why does it always have to be about collecting the whole set all the time?) ~ Sarah Rees Brennan

LEADING LESSONS
Criticism can be useful.

I've taken a beating from the DWTS judges on many occasions. Most of the time, because I'm always aware of the cameras in my face, I just suck it up and take it. Here's the thing: I realize that maybe they're seeing something I'm not. Sometimes you're too close to a situation, too connected to it, to be 100 percent honest with yourself. Or your ego gets in the way and won't let you improve, because that would mean changing course and admitting you were wrong. I tell my partners to listen carefully when Len, Carrie Ann, or Bruno has a constructive criticism for us. Yes, sometimes it boils down to taste and opinion (and I don't always agree), but often it's a valid point. They want us to succeed. The way I see it, you have lots of choices on how to handle it: the first is to lose your temper, get defensive, and spend the rest of the night beating yourself up about it. The second--a natural reaction for most people--is to mentally shut down when someone points out your flaws. Who wants to hear that? Let me just drown it out and ignore it. The third option is your best: keep your mind and your ears open. You can learn about your weaknesses and how you can improve them. A leader is never scared of criticism, but instead knows there is always room to grow and improve. So bring it on. ~ Derek Hough