Quotes About Expectations

For Pete's sake, the girl went back to work three months after Jacob was born. It wasn't like having a baby would be that big an inconvenience for her.

Her focus had always been on how his actions affected her feelings, as if his role was to do things for her, to her, and all that mattered was her emotional response to him, as if a "man" were a product or a service, and she'd finally chosen the right brand to get the right response.

She could not meet another brand-new group of mothers. She'd found socializing with the school mums difficult enough when her life was in perfect order. The chat, chat, chat, the swirls of laughter, the warmth, the friendliness (most mums were so very nice) and the gentle hint of bitchiness than ran beneath it all. She'd

if an arm-less, leg-less woman on a skateboard could find a man, surely Sophie was doing something very, very wrong? How did this woman meet him? Pull on his trouser leg as she rolled by him in a nightclub?) Now

Ellen had always assumed she would marry young and have a relationship like theirs. She thought she was that sort of person. Traditional. Nice. As if nice girls always found nice boys. As if "niceness" was all that was necessary to maintain a relationship.

Would there be that subtle one-upmanship like there was between mothers? "It's so stressful having a gifted child." What would be the equivalent for a prison wife? "It's such a strain when your husband is a model prisoner! The others are constantly beating him up!

You never changed your appearance for men, you changed it for other women, because they were the ones carefully tracking each other's weight and skin tone, along with their own, they were the ones trapped with you on the ridiculous appearance obsession merry-go-round that they couldn't or wouldn't get off.

Every relationship has its quixotic rules. You just had to follow them.

Her future back then, thought Cat now, was like a long buffet table of exotic dishes awaiting her selection. This career or that career. This boy or that boy. Marriage and children? Maybe later—for dessert, perhaps. She didn't realize they'd start clearing the plates away so soon.

Sometimes their children would do everything exactly as they'd taught them, and sometimes they would do all the things they'd told them not to do, and seeing them suffer the tiniest disappointments would be more painful than their own most significant losses, but then other times they would do something so extraordinary, so unexpected and beautiful, so entirely of their own choice and their own making, it was like a splash of icy water on a hot day.

It was annoying that the better stuff you got, the less relaxed you could be about it.

Average wasn't good enough. Average was too big. Everyone knew that. There was an obesity crisis in this country! She didn't want to fat-shame other people, but she certainly wanted to fat-shame herself because she deserved to be shamed.

When you're in a relationship you get stuck playing out your different parts.

It felt like another loss. Each time he thought he was doing well, avoiding the hope. Each time he told himself: I have no expectations, but with each new failure it hurt so much he understood the hope had been there after all, flitting seductively around his subconscious. It didn't get easier either. It got worse. A cumulative effect. Loss upon loss.

Think of your worst pre-match nerves. Except there's no match. It's just Tuesday morning. That's how it feels to be me.

Jane had tried that with Mothers Group and failed. She just couldn't relate to those bright, chatty women and their bubbly conversations about husbands who weren't "stepping up" and renovations that weren't finished before the baby was born and that hilarious time they were so busy and tired they left the house without putting on any makeup! (Jane, who was wearing no makeup at the time, and never wore makeup, had kept her face blank and benign, while she inwardly shouted: What the fuck?)

Our own system of trying to guess what or how much a child's mind can assimilate results in cross purposes, misunderstanding, disappointments, anger and a general loss of harmony.

Our parents, our tribesman, our authority figures, clearly expect us to be bad or anti-social or greedy or selfish or dirty or destructive or self-destructive. Our social nature is such that we tend to meet the expectations of our elders. Whenever this reversal took place and our elders stopped expecting us to be social and expected us to be anti-social, just to put it in gross terms, that's when the real fall took place. And we're paying for it dearly.

We take it for granted that life is hard and feel lucky to have whatever happiness we get. We do not look upon happiness as a birthright, nor do we expect it to be more than peace or contentment. Real joy, the state in which the Yequana spend much of their lives, is exceedingly rare among us.

No one ever expects poetry to sell.

I think about more than I forget, but I dont go around fire expecting not to sweat.

They say I'm the Hottest MC in the Game. If you label me that, I will live up to it. Trust me.

Hum Woh Engineer Nahi...

I guess since the groin is the center of a guy's world, he rarely guesses it isn't the center of yours.