The king growls, baring his sharp teeth, and I dip my head. My face heats, and shame curdles my stomach. Am I embarrassed of my body? Am I uncomfortable because that’s how I feel or because I was taught to be?
Neden sessizlikten utanıyoruz? Tüm gürültüde nasıl bir rahatlık buluyoruz?
Why are we embarrassed by silence? What comfort do we find in all the noise?
"You know what," said Rusty, "it's better to be overly cautious and be embarrassed by it later than to die in a really stupid way. So from now on, neither of us goes outside alone. That includes me.
“You okay?" he says, touching my cheek. His hand cradles the side of my head, his long fingers slipping through my hair. He smiles and holds my head in place as he kisses me. Heat spreads through me slowly.And fear, buzzing like an alarm in my chest.
His lips still on mine,he pushes the jacket from my shoulders.I flinch when I hear it
“Wait a second," Four says. I turn toward him, wondering which version of Four I'll see now-the one who scolds me, or the one who climbs Ferris wheels with me. He smiles a little, but the smile doesn't spread to his eyes, which look less tense and worried.
"You belong here, you know that?" he says. "You belong with us. It'll be over soon, so just hold on, okay?"
He scratches behind his ear and looks away, like he's embarrassed by what he said.
I stare at him. I feel my heartbeat everywhere, even in my toes. I feel like doing something bold, but I could just as easily walk away. I am not sure which option is smarter, or better. I am not sure that I care.
I reach out and take his hand. His fingers slide between mine. I can't breathe.
I stare up at him, and he stares down at me. For a long moment, we stay that way. Then I pull my hand away and run after Uriah and Lynn and Marlene. Maybe now he thinks I'm stupid, or strange. Maybe it was worth it.”
The Curse Of The Dutch House
“It drove Dad to distraction, I remember that. She told me once if it were up to her she’d give the place to the nuns, let them turn it into an orphanage or an old folks’ home. Then she said the nuns and the orphans and the old folks would probably be too embarrassed to live there.”
Sayfa 68Kitabı okudu
Giovanni Brusca relates that, when he visited American mafiosi in New Jersey, he was appalled by how talkative his hosts were by comparison. A dinner was held to welcome him, yet on entering the restaurant Brusca was astonished to see that the mafiosi had all brought their mistresses, and that they chatted openly about which Families various mobsters belonged to. ‘In Sicily, none of us would dream of talking that way in public. Or even in private. Everyone knows what needs to be known.’ Brusca claims he was so embarrassed that he made his excuses and left.
She upset Billy simply by being his mother. She made him feel embarrassed and ungrateful and weak because she had gone to so much trouble to give him life, and to keep that life going, and Billy didn't really like life at all.
Sayfa 74Kitabı okudu
Şarkı sözleri
I'm a mess, I'm a loser
I'm a hater, I'm a user
I'm a mess for your love, it ain't new
I'm obsessed, I'm embarrassed
I don't trust no one around us
I'm a mess for your love, it ain't new ....
In Heraclitus’s River
In Heraclitus’s river
a fish is busy fishing,
a fish guts a fish with a sharp fish,
a fish builds a fish, a fish lives in a fish,
a fish escapes from a fish under siege.
In Heraclitus’s river
a fish loves a fish,
your eyes, it says, glow like the fishes in the sky,
I would swim at your side to the sea we will share,
o fairest of the shoal.
In Heraclitus’s river
a fish has imagined the fish of all fish,
a fish kneels to the fish, a fish sings to the fish,
a fish begs the fish to ease its fishy lot.
In Heraclitus’s river
I, the solitary fish, a fish apart
(apart at least from the tree fish and the stone fish),
write, at isolated moments, a tiny fish or two
whose glittering scales, so fleeting,
may only be the dark’s embarrassed wink.
Im a mess :(
I'm a mess, I'm a loser
I'm a hater, I'm a user
I'm a mess for your love, it ain't new
I'm obsessed, I'm embarrassed
I don't trust no one around us
I'm a mess for your love, it ain't new
He went on to ask if I had felt grief on that “sad occasion.” The question struck me as an odd one; I'd have been much embarrassed if I'd had to ask anyone a thing like that.
I answered that, of recent years, I'd rather lost the habit of noting my feelings, and hardly knew what to answer. I could truthfully say I'd been quite fond of Mother—but really that didn't mean much. All normal people, I added as on afterthought, had more or less desired the death of those they loved, at some time or another.
