Quotes About Judgment

I occasionally feel contempt for that attitude [degree of sexual desire towards me] when I perceive it, but maybe that's not fair. By our culture we've been taught who is most valued and who is not.

If we read the words and attitudes of the past through the pompous "wisdom" of the considered moral judgments of the present, we will find nothing but error.

An attitude of philosophic doubt, of suspended judgment, is repugnant to the natural man. Belief is an independent joy to him.

Hedda's Hopper attitude was 'once a Commie, always a Commie.'

Her father said, whenever the subject came up, that if she'd lose some weight, she'd find a boyfriend. She knew that wasn't necessarily the case, since plenty of girls who had perfect figures and were half her size couldn't find a boyfriend. And other girls who were overweight were happily married, engaged or had significant others.Romance, she knew, wasn't directed tied to your weight, there were a lot of other factors.

The judge arrived half an hour later with the file he had collected from his office on the way, signed several papers, had Sam sign them, the matron witness them; Josh cried, Norm cried, she cried, the judge grinned, and Timmie waved his teddy bear at the judge with a broad grin as they wheeled into the elevator. So long! he shouted, and when the doors closed, the judge was laughing and crying too.

Carole decided

Alcohol makes people do stupid things, but it doesn't turn a good guy into a rapist, and neither did you.

lesser charge, or a lighter sentence, or both.

sure they were going to. In her mind, the jury was still out as to whether she would sleep with him, or they would stay friends.

It's hard to get it right, and they always blame you for something. If you're lucky, one of them thinks you're cool, for about five minutes, and the others think you're a disaster, or they all do. Charlotte has always been tough on me. Eric always

Look what he married. Would you want to be her? She's a nice woman, but her greatest accomplishment is making three-dimensional snowflakes and Easter bunnies from Martha Stewart's book. Come on, Fiona, you don't want to be that.

In my experience all boys can be classified as either assholes or bores, unless they're both.

Maybe we should wait....wait for him to kill another five or six, huh?

But I also slaughtered you real mother and father. In a moment of mad rage, I took their lives and left you an orphan. If you choose to take my life as a payment for theirs, you will be within your rights and no vampire will hold it against you. Pass judgment on me, Gavner Purl, and let your hand rise or fall as destiny decides it must. -Larten Crepsley

Trust one fool to see no flaws in another!

Too easily impressed," Evanna tutted, resuming her former appearance. "You shouldn't judge by what's on the outside. Only a fool falls for a pretty face. Are you fools?

You're young, Darren, Kurda said. It's crazy to throw your life away. Leave Vampire Mountain. Make a fresh start. You're experienced enough to survive on your own. You don't need Larten to look after you anymore. Lots of vampires lead their own lives, having nothing to do with the rest of us. Be your own person. Don't let the foolish pride of others cloud your judgment.

It's probably polite to pretend you don't see people coming out of pawnshops, anyhow.

It was his wife we objected to. Her name was Leda, but he called her Tip. She was very small and her hair, eyes, and skin, though naturally of different shades, were all muddy. She seldom sat- she perched on things - and liked to cock her head a little to one side. Nora had a theory that once when Edge opened an antique grave, Tip ran out of it,...

Presently she said: "It's none of my business, Nick, but what do people think of me?" "You're like everybody else: some people like you, some people don't, and some have no feeling about it one way or the other.

I don't," he said, "and that's a fact. I just can't size them up at all. This Mrs. Jorgensen, now, what is she?" "A blonde.

His wife was a tall, stringy woman, perhaps five years older than her husband—say, forty—with a mouth and chin that seemed shaped for gossiping.

He stood beside the fireplace and looked at her with eyes that studied, weighed, judged her without pretense that they were not studying, weighing, judging her.