Quotes About Confidence

She was twenty-five before it occurred to her that she could have insulted him back, but the rule of life was that the boys got to decide which girls were pretty; it didn't really matter how ugly they were themselves.)

You don't know my age, you darling idiot, so how do you know I look great for it?

the way he could walk straight into a party full of people they didn't know and stick his hand out to a stranger and say, "I'm Nick. This is my wife, Alice." It was as though he had an amazing skill, like playing a complicated musical instrument, that Alice could never hope to master.

send a message back through time to her fourteen-year-old self: "Don't worry, it all works out. You get a personality, you get a job, you work out what to do with your hair, and you get a boy who thinks you're beautiful.

was nervous, when she didn't

Breathe in. She didn't give a fig what other people thought! Breathe out. Rubbish. She gave a whole fig tree.

Come on. We're not going to let her bother

sounded so sure of herself, as if she knew Lars

Yes, Ron had always respected Connie, even though he suspected the feeling was not mutual. That doesn't concern him especially. He doesn't need to be liked. A lot of people don't like him. It is their problem. Not his.

I won't get involved in any school politics," she'd said, and someone up there had overheard and hadn't liked her attitude. Far too confident. "We'll see about that," they'd said, and then sat back and had a good old laugh at her expense.

The more jessica changed her face and body the less secure she got.

Computers and other electrical equipment seemed to shrink when Michael was around, becoming malleable and obedient in his large hands. It was a pity he couldn't do the same with every problem. Tap a few keys, frown in an interested way. "Mmmm, let's give this a go, then," and hey presto, confidence about the functionality of your personality rebooted and restored.

that beautiful woman held themselves differently; they swayed like palm trees in the breeze of all that attention. Cecilia wanted her daughters to run and stride and stomp. She didn't want Polly to bloody sway.

lavish, dark hair of hers over one shoulder to

We're not all beautiful , just like we're not all musical, and that's fine. And don't give me that inner beauty shining through crap either

she wore a beautifully cut suit, her blond hair elegantly styled, her makeup flawless.

He made her more confident, funnier, smarter. He brought out all the things that were there already and let her be fully herself, so she seemed to shine with this inner light.

She was all-powerful when she knew without doubt that she was in the right. But how often did you know for sure that you were right? Hardly ever.

She was generally slightly resentful of people who made it obvious they didn't care less whether you liked them or not, because she herself was conscious of an unattractive need to please.

They're pretty good at building stuff," her sister said. "Like bridges and roads. I mean, could you even build a hut? Your basic mud hut?" "I could build a hut," said Cecilia. "You probably could," groaned Bridget,

There was a certain age, Cecilia had noticed, before people stooped or trembled, but where they didn't seem to trust their bodies in quite the same way as they once had.

He sounded so certain. Whenever they had an argument about a point of fact, he was always so utterly confident that he had it right and she had it wrong. He never even entertained the possibility that he might be mistaken. It drove her bananas. She struggled with an irresistible urge to slap him across the face. This

Fuck it, maybe she'd even get her hair cut.

Every day, in every way, I am getting better and better. —The classic conscious auto-suggestion created by the famous French psychologist and pharmacist (the "father of auto hypnosis"), Émile Coué (1857–1926)