Quotes About Disgust

I hate the world. Everything comes into it so clean and goes out so dirty. (from COVER CHARGE - currently not listed)

I started off down the road. Perhaps I should have been worrying about the fate of the green car and its occupants but the plain truth is that I was not worrying at all. The plain truth is I did not care a pin what happened to them. I was utterly fed up and disgusted with the whole crowd. It was my own fault of course. I should never have accepted the invitation to the party.

smelly creeps

I think there's such disgust and frustration because of Trump that people see me as the vessel for that frustration. They see me as the person who can give voice to what they're feeling.

I know no man who feels deeper disgust than I do at the ambition, avarice, and profligacy of the priesthood, as well because every one of these vices is odious in itself, as because each of them separately and all of them together are utterly abhorrent in men making profession of a life dedicated to God.

I'd read one too many crime novels where the victim was just a name: body number one, dead woman number 12. I understood fear, and I wanted to create characters who made readers say, 'Please, don't hurt this guy.' That's the key to suspense. It's easy to disgust a reader. It's much harder to make them care.

And my mother probably never told my father, either. He was old school. Old morals. My pregnancy, my accusations of assault, the fact I was drinking—I became a disgrace to him. My father disrespected me. He was disgusted by me. He heard everyone say I was a liar, a drunk little whore who threw myself at 'JonJon' Rittenberg and the other boys,

If I had to describe what love meant, really, not in the abstract or the sentimental or the way I'd imagined it before, that I'd say it was completely irrational, made up of so many opposites, the kind that couldn't exist without the other: bliss and sadness, courage and fear, adoration and disgust.

You suck. You suck diseased moose wang, Marcone.

I have a problem with creepy, dead, poisonous things. So sue me.

I had let my digust with teaching ruin my love of literature.

He leant back to stare heavenwards, gently fingering the swollen skin around his black eye. But the river stank. Reduced by the heat like a good soup, it was sixty per cent ducks' piss with a hint of incontinent rat.

I wouldn't yell 'fire' at that slimeball if his ass was in flames.

Too much familiarity breeds contempt.

I never drink water because of the disgusting things that fish do in it.

Every time I see his name (Dean Chance) on a lineup card, I feel like throwing up.

Dad decided not to vote for Donner after all. He didn't vote for anyone. He said politicians turned his stomach.

Nothing more strongly arouses our disgust than cannibalism, yet we make the same impression on Buddhists and vegetarians, for we feed on babies, though not our own.

Death and I are head to head in a total collision, pure and mutual distaste.

The outrage, the disgust inspired in my parents by the gentiles, was beginning to make some sense: the goyim pretended to be something special, while we were actually their moral superiors. And what made us superior was precisely the hatred and the disrespect they lavished so willingly upon us! Only what about the hatred we lavished upon them?

Peter was leaning his elbows on the end of the table, a piece of bread smeared with peanut butter in his hands, chewing wide eyed with his mouth open. Wally tried not to look. Whenever Wally was really hungry at school and didn't think he could hold out until noon, he thought about the way half-chewed bread and peanut butter looked in Peter's mouth, and he wasn't hungry anymore.

stares down at her spinach. "It looks like poop," she says.

Finally, and fundamentally, didn't he, who was honest and open, smell the foul odor of Fascist truths that were polluting the sky, didn't he find it disgraceful that a thinking man should be asked to believe without thinking? Didn't he feel disgust for all the dogmas, all the unproved declarations, all the imperatives

And in the corner … piled up in the corner, I saw animal heads. Even in the dim light, I could see them so clearly. Piled on top of each other. Rabbit heads, squirrel heads, a couple of raccoon heads, eyes staring blankly, glassily at me. "NOOOO!" I screamed without realizing it. What kind of creature lives here? What kind of beast builds its own hut and keeps dead animals inside it?