Quotes About Conflicted

She felt abused, used, cherished, and pleasured. She despised him. She loved him. She mistrusted him. She had complete faith in him. "Ah!

I'm of two minds about this shit. Two minds. Yeah. I aint sure I'm cut out for domestic bliss. Probably not.

She rose slowly. She didn't want to go. She also rather resented staying.

She was grieved, and bitterly sorry for the man who was hurt so much. But still, in her heart of hearts, where the love should have burned, there was a blank. Now, when all her woman's pity was roused to its full extent, when she would have slaved herself to death to nurse him and to save him, when she would have taken the pain herself, if she could, somewhere far away inside her she felt indifferent to him and to his suffering. It hurt her most of all, this failure to love him.

Their intimacy was so abstract, he did not know he wanted to crush her onto his breast to ease the ache there. He was afraid of her. The fact that he might want her as a man wants a woman had in him been suppressed into shame.

It's a disheartening feeling when you can't stand the touch of someone but neither can you push them away.

I hated him and I loved him. With him I felt trapped, branded, held, and beloved. Like a daughter.

I don't know whether to punch you or hug you.

I'm a hopeless romantic and I believe that you can find love in many different places and be very conflicted. I've discovered as I've grown up that life is far more complicated than you think it is when you're a kid. It isn't just a straightforward fairytale.

They weren't telling their congregations that what they were preaching was Unitarianism; they were just omitting from their sermons and services anything that conflicted with Unitarianism, with the idea that if their congregations heard nothing that wasn't Unitarian they would just naturally become Unitarians.

We're cool," I say calmly, although I feel something else. I feel... sad. Like I've lost something I never quite had.

but are you really so in love? - Oh, it is not that at all. It is not that, it is some kind of power that has seized me and holds me. I do not know what to do.

I feel emotionally conflicted. It's like when your mother in-law drives off a cliff in your new Porsche.

For the moment, my life is a little schizophrenic.

He had never been so anxious for the arrival of a woman he did not want to see.

The weird thing is that I cared about him at the same time I found him gross. He grossed me out... And that I was so deep in my problem that I couldn't accept real, genuine, nonsexual or nonromantic or non-prettiness-type interest in me even if it was offered to me.

I wasn't kind, Jude. Not to many people. Not to you. I wasn't sure if I wanted you or if I wanted you gone from my sight so that I would stop feeling as I did, which made me even more unkind. But when you were gone—truly gone beneath the waves—I hated myself as I never have before.

And despite myself, despite what he'd done and what he was, I came to love him. I do love him. It's just not a comfortable kind of love.

I don't know how she feels about me, but I sort of like her. I mean, I'm sickened by her existence obviously, but I find her strangely compelling.

The Cullens, they're an interesting group of vampires. They're all really good but kind of bad. I mean, they are still vampires.

Venus, ancient goddess of love and beauty, is an apparently irrelevant, invented deity of the long dead. But Venus merits scrutiny. Chart her life story across 5,000 years and you chart the evolution of our conflicted relationship with sex and with the female body.

We are engaged in a form of intimacy that scares the absolute hell out of me. It's as if there is a weight on my chest that I want to shove off, and I've never been this terrified before. Or this whole and hopeful and connected. My body starts to tremble. I want more of what I'm feeling, and I also want none of it.

I've always felt weird about coming to Nigeria. Everything is always so overwhelming and aggressive from the moment we step out of the airport and into a country that my father loves so deeply he had to run away from it. But I've never had a choice. No one has ever asked me. Each summer, my father's momentum dragged us all home.

If I didn't like her so much, I'd hate her.