Quotes About Conflict

People may say . . . that all is made up and well again, but such breaches between great people are seldom or never so.

He needed to keep as far away from her as possible, or they'd end up back in bed together or she'd kill him. And he wasn't sure which he preferred.

What have you done with Hetty? he demanded. Listened to her incessant prattle, complaints, tears, demands, artless conversation and recriminations for more than twenty-four hours. You will be pleased to know I didn't touch her—if I had I would have throttled her. Take her away, if you please. I'd rather spend the rest of my life a pauper than have to spend even another day with the divine Miss Chippie.

You're right about something else," he said, his voice ragged. "I'm scared to death of you. Because I want you, when common sense and a lifetime of experience tells me I should kill you. I want you, and if I give up then you'll own me, and I'll have nothing left to fight with.

She should feel sick. Horrified, stunned. But the horrible truth was, she felt fine. He killed. He killed to protect her. And some ancient, atavistic streak inside her wanted to preen and purr. She was one sick puppy.

He's a dope. She's crazy about him, he's in love with her, and yet he's being all noble and leaving her. He's a fathead.

He wasn't sure why or how, but he… cared about her. He could be the worst possible bastard, but something stopped him from being that callous, and the thought disturbed him. Was he growing soft? Becoming kind?

I should leave your property. She tried to move, but he forestalled her, putting his hands on her shoulders. She felt thinner, more fragile beneath the thin green material, and there were shadows under here eyes. I thought you were my property as well. You don't want me. I may be cruel, heartless, and penniless, dear Emma, he said lightly. I never said I was a fool.

He could almost hear her grind her teeth, and his mood lightened. Astonishing how entertaining it was to annoy his unwanted confederate.

She wanted more, and yet his kiss was like poison to her. It could lead to things, to feelings that could destroy her utterly.

Are you certain we're going in the right direction?" He let out an irritated growl. "I'm not certain of anything. I was going on instinct." "Instinct being that you do the opposite of what I suggest?

Epictetus say that everything has two handles, one by which it can be borne and one which it cannot. If your brother sins against you, he says, don't take hold of it by the wrong he did you but by the fact that he's your brother. That's how it can be borne.

Thinking time," their father called it. Their mother would shout at him and stamp her foot, or slap Willa in the face (such a stinging, shameful experience, being slapped in the face—so scary to the person's eyes), or shake Elaine like a Raggedy Ann

Which was how she often did after flare-ups—pretending nothing had happened.

you don't have to bend over backwards, either, and go asking her to dinner or something. She does have a family of her own. You're supposed to take my side in this." "I thought you didn't want us to take sides." "No, no, I don't. I mean you shouldn't take her side, is what I'm trying to say.

You can never take it for granted that family members will like each other.

See... what it was, I guess: it was the grayness; grayness of things; half-right-and-half-wrongness of things. Everything tangled, mingled, not perfect any more. I couldn't take that. Your mother could, but not me. Yes sir, I have to hand it to your mother.

Red grabbed the receiver at the very same instant that Abby flung herself across him to grab it herself. He had it first, but there was a little tussle and somehow she was the one who ended up with it.

You're right, Jottie, but what good is it? Rightness is nothing. You can't live on it. You might as well eat ashes. I glanced at Father, his bloodshot eyes and the stain on his pants. I loved him so. Once more, I tried to explain. This is all we can do; it's all we're allowed. We can't go back. The only thing time leaves for us to decide -- I picked up Father's hand and held it tight-- is whether or not we're going to hate each other.

And here in America rival newspapermen attack each other on sight?

If a meteor falls in the forest and no one realizes it, does it end the war?

If you threaten Deryn Sharp again, Volger – in any way at all – I'm done with you.

Without lesions making everyone agreeable, society was left roiling in a constant battle of words, images, and ideas. All around her Tally felt the city seething, all those unfettered minds bouncing their opinions off each other, like something ready to explode.

I don't want to hurt you but I will if I have too