Quotes About Awkwardness

At present, under the burden of canons and the burden of language's deep complicity with countless atrocities, the very making of poems requires audacity. And if the audacity is well-intended, it requires a certain awkwardness as proof of its unrehearsed refusal to comply with silence.

He lies down next to me. He says, 'You know - you have a face to die for/' 'Well, don't die,' I say, "we just met.

Nope, you stick out like a fart in a church.

Terrible. This morning, when I put on my underwear, I could hear the Fruit of the Loom guys laughing at me.

I could have farted out loud, and it would have been less embarrassing than the silence. Finally

My first kiss was when I was 13. I was so nervous that I was shaking. Unfortunately, the girl I kissed never spoke to me again.

I always thought that at the very time of your life when you want to be cool and sexy and fascinating, you are none of those things. You are a hormonal muddle in your school uniform sitting in double science looking at a boy who you know will never notice you. That was definitely me; I was so shy at school.

Can you think of a single situation, no matter how grave, where the atmosphere would not be instantly shattered with a loud fart - or a drawing of a butt? There is no faster way to create universal common ground.

Women say hello and then put their hands down my trousers. I thought it was my hand they were supposed to shake.

I was a bad dater, and up until 8th grade I went to an all boy's school. So, by the time I hit high school I was a bit freaked out by women in general.

This time I felt my own face redden. Talking with this woman was like sitting still for a series of slaps, delivered arhythmically so you couldn't know when the next one was coming.

I guess I tell jokes a lot, but I'm not really that sure because sometimes they don't laugh, and they just stare at me like I said something insulting.

Men need to be with women otherwise I don't think they really know how to behave. They'll just stare at me and it's awkward, so I scramble around in my mind to say the rudest things I can think of just to get something out of them.

I'm more one of those people you laugh at and not with. I'm not the one with the jokes, I'm the one who falls on her face going up a flight of steps.

The faces of your young people in general are not interesting—I don't mean the children, but the young men and women—and they are awkward and clownish in their manners, without the quaintness of the elder generation, who are the funniest old dears in the world." "They will all be quaint enough as they get older. You must remember the sort of life they lead. They get their notions very slowly, and they must have notions in their heads before they can show them on their faces.

Fans of the 'Inbetweeners' like the show because it is about four normal people, average guys or lower than average losers.

Not bad for two kids who've only got about eight pubic hairs between them, Peter said.

The girls emerged in their carboncopy dresses and the boy came out of the woods stiffly and looking churlish and sullen and strange, like a child pervert.

Only part you have to apologize for is getting me all horned up and then passing out, but I'll take a rain check

I'm sorry I hurt your hand...with my face. -Bobby Pendragon

Grandma and I were cautiously polite to each other. "Make yourself at home, Dolores," she said hesitantly as she opened the door to what had once been my mother's bedroom. The room smelled dry and dusty. The windows were stuck closed and there were little rows of insect carcasses along the sill. When I sat down on the hard mattress, it crackled under me.

Other people's devotions embarrassed me, perhaps because, like other people's kisses, they rarely looked genuine when viewed too closely.

Kit [Carson Kitteridge] watched me for a few moments before saying, That was some impressive killing you did. Naked too. I hope I didn't embarrass Office Palmer. She said that after all she heard about you she thought your johnson would be bigger. Tell her that the air conditioner was on.

He looked like a butler dressed by his four-year-old daughter—a mishmash of good intentions and ill design. And there I was, an unshaven, rumpled page of discarded poetry, extending a hand and smiling, no doubt wolfishly.