Quotes About Awkwardness

Goodness," Tessa said to the back of his head. "If you keep seeing Six-Fingered Nigel like this, he'll expect you to declare your intentions.

Sitting at a crowded table with men who did not share a common language with you, listening to them talk and jape whilst understanding none of it, had quickly grown wearisome. Particularly since he always found himself wondering if the japes and laughter were directed at him.

Whatever else can be said about sex, it cannot be called a dignified performance.

Sir. Several expressions passed over Peabody's face before it went carefully blank. That's a lovely dress, Lieutenant. Are you premiering a new style? Baffled, Eve looked down, then rolled her eyes. Shit. You've seen my tits before. But she set the communicator down and struggled the bodice into place. And may I say, sir, they're quite lovely. Sucking up, Peabody? You bet.

We'll take the laundry in for anal.

Roarke winced and began the delicate task of extracting his feet from his mouth.

Because my patient just sat herself up--and I'm not talking about her raising her torso off the damn pillows. I wasn't there when she did it and I need to see how it happened. Red Sox seemed to stop breathing. What...I'm sorry. What the fuck are you saying. Do I need to reenact it in charades or some shit? I'll pass on that--I so don't need you on your knees in front of me with only a towel on. Which makes two of us. Wait, are you serious? Yeah. I'm really not interested in blowing you, either.

Oh… God. What was a male supposed to do in this situation? I'm sorry, he muttered. If I… uh, hurt your feelings or something. She glared at him. I'm not hurt. I'm pissed off and sexually frustrated.

V had been keeping his eye on the guy. After they'd spent hours alone together, they'd parted awkwardly and taken separate showers. Fortunately, though, the hot water had been a reset for them both, and when they'd met up again in the Pit's kitchen, it had been business as usual. And shit remained that way

Listen, I don't want things to get weird, okay. Oh, yeah, no, weird is bad. But just so you and I are clear, I really fucking want to kiss you right now.

I'm sorry," he said remotely. "For what just happened between you and me." She

Um…John, what the fuck is doing with you?" What do you mean, he signed to Qhuinn without taking his eyes off the woman. "You're looking at that chick like you want to roll her up in a taco and put your hot sauce all over her." Blay coughed a little. "You really don't have a way with words, you know that?" "Just calling it like I see it." -Qhuinn, John, & Blay

Middle school was my most awkward stage. I switched schools after the sixth grade after having gone to the same school for six years with the same group of 40 kids. It was a shock. I reinvented myself. I experimented with different styles, different groups of friends, and different types of music and not knowing how to be cool.

You have to bully a guy like Fury - notice I don't call him 'Tyson.' Truthfully you have to run up on a big guy like Fury and pummel him. He's the type of guy who's strong and determined but he's slow. His awkwardness is his positive.

It's such an insult that foul gas comes out of a hole in our butt with a sound to announce itself. It's the ultimate bad thing about being a person.

At the age of 11 I was about 6 ft. tall and my voice had completely broken. That caused problems. I was this gangly, spotty, very unattractive kid. I wasn't cool and I wasn't a nerd. I didn't even want to fit in with anyone.

Long ago I used to mutter (as you probably do), "Very interesting," and cast a desperate glance around for the punch-bowl. This banal comment fools no one, least of all the artist, and you quickly find you have lost a friend and alienated a roomful of people, all of whom are pretending they like the pictures with a grim kind of appreciation.

We'd met at university, where he was studying medicine and I was studying social awkwardness and a catastrophic inability to cope with deadlines.

The kid hasn't mastered the art of small talk. Every question comes out sounding like part of an interrogation.

Laura was ten feet away, in a throne-like chair, facing Paul, but not looking at him, or anyone, it seemed. Paul openly stared at her for around ten seconds, to no response, then moved chips and guacamole onto his lap (partly because he felt anxious about Laura seeming to refuse to look at him) and focused on steadily eating while repeatedly thinking "eating chips and guacamole.

The two men's stomachs pressed together like a couple of beach balls. For a moment, Puri felt like he was going to get stuck.

I just don't have that natural instinct to be able to let my guard down and start speaking to people. I never have - I've always been a bit socially awkward, even with people I've known for a long time.

Sometimes, I think 'The Spectator' is calculated to embarrass me.

Sometimes love can be so wrong/Like a fat man in a thong.