Uncomfortable Situations Quotes
Quotes tagged as "uncomfortable-situations"
Showing 1-10 of 10
“Don't hang out with people who are:
Ungrateful
Unhelpful
Unruly
Unkindly
Unloving
Unambitious
Unmotivated
or make you feel...
Uncomfortable”
―
Ungrateful
Unhelpful
Unruly
Unkindly
Unloving
Unambitious
Unmotivated
or make you feel...
Uncomfortable”
―
“She could feel him, glaring at her with a psychotic look in his eyes, taking pleasure in her suffering, using it to fuel his next move.”
― The Colours of Denial
― The Colours of Denial
“The truth is that feelings aren't always comfortable, but feeling them is the only way to get comfortable with feeling something new.”
― I Can't Believe I Dated Him: The Art of Knowing When to Break Up, When to Stay Single and When You've Met the One
― I Can't Believe I Dated Him: The Art of Knowing When to Break Up, When to Stay Single and When You've Met the One
“You cannot influence minds by making them feel comfortable. Influence should provoke the comfortable lifestyle into an uncomfortable situation where opportunities lie.”
―
―
“I had expected a certain amount of exitment from the staff when they found out I wasn't totaly helpless. Instead, they looked unfomfortable. They exchanged glances, then looked at the sky, then at the ground.
"umm.... does this mean we're going on? Guido said at last.”
― Myth-ing Persons
"umm.... does this mean we're going on? Guido said at last.”
― Myth-ing Persons
“But instead, my father sat us down for an explanation of lesbianism....
...I was mortified, and looked over at my girlfriend to see if this was all registering with her, but she was too busy daydreaming to notice the runaway train that was thundering thought the motel room. She hadn't spoken a single word to any of the adults so far on the trip, and even when she occasionally spoke to me, it was in such a eerily quiet tone that only a nine-year-old- girl or a dog could hear it. I'm pretty sure that Bob and Donna thought she was a deaf-mute, albeit one who could miraculously sense the vacuum seal breaking on a can of Pringles from a mile away.
I was eager to let the whole thing go, when my friend asked casually, 'But what's munching the carpet got to do with anything?”
― I Know I Am, But What Are You?
...I was mortified, and looked over at my girlfriend to see if this was all registering with her, but she was too busy daydreaming to notice the runaway train that was thundering thought the motel room. She hadn't spoken a single word to any of the adults so far on the trip, and even when she occasionally spoke to me, it was in such a eerily quiet tone that only a nine-year-old- girl or a dog could hear it. I'm pretty sure that Bob and Donna thought she was a deaf-mute, albeit one who could miraculously sense the vacuum seal breaking on a can of Pringles from a mile away.
I was eager to let the whole thing go, when my friend asked casually, 'But what's munching the carpet got to do with anything?”
― I Know I Am, But What Are You?
“At eighteen, Lady Joanna ben Luke had a talent for being invisible. The night of the Coronation Ball, she applied herself to the task and blended into the yellow and gold wallpaper like a chameleon. Invisibility, unfortunately, did nothing to ease her physical discomfort. She surmised the seventh ring of Hell was not much hotter than the Palace ballroom tonight.
Her brown eyes widened with dread as she felt a slow rivulet of sweat run down the inside of her arm. A covert glance confirmed it, wet armpits. Great, just great. Even if they dried, which was unlikely in this heat, silk stained. She resigned herself to keeping her arms plastered to her sides for the rest of the night, which did nothing to improve her mood or ease the pain from the corset stays. Those medieval torture devices were supposed to make her appear trim. Instead, they dug painfully into her soft belly and forced her ample bosom so high she was afraid one of the straining gold buttons was going to launch and put someone’s eye out. She couldn’t even take a deep breath, trussed up and sweating like a pale chicken ten minutes into the roasting cycle.”
― M2-Rise of the Giants
Her brown eyes widened with dread as she felt a slow rivulet of sweat run down the inside of her arm. A covert glance confirmed it, wet armpits. Great, just great. Even if they dried, which was unlikely in this heat, silk stained. She resigned herself to keeping her arms plastered to her sides for the rest of the night, which did nothing to improve her mood or ease the pain from the corset stays. Those medieval torture devices were supposed to make her appear trim. Instead, they dug painfully into her soft belly and forced her ample bosom so high she was afraid one of the straining gold buttons was going to launch and put someone’s eye out. She couldn’t even take a deep breath, trussed up and sweating like a pale chicken ten minutes into the roasting cycle.”
― M2-Rise of the Giants
“That was the trouble with talking: you said things that weren’t quite the things you meant, and then you either had to wallow in your own uncomfortable silence or trip over your own tongue in a vain attempt to clarify your original meaning.”
― In Broad Strokes
― In Broad Strokes
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