Quotes About Shame

I think she knows she's made a terrible, irreversible mistake, but she can't stop because if she did, she'd have to acknowledge the mistake and the fact that people really don't care. They just think she's a freak.

The most ominous of modern perversions is the shame of appearing naïve if we do not flirt with evil. (La más ominosa de las perversiones modernas es la vergüenza de parecer ingenuos si no coqueteamos con el mal.)

Nietzsche wäre der einzige adlige Bewohner einer verlassenen Welt. Nur seine Option könnte sich ohne Scham der Auferstehung Gottes aussetzen.

The shame dies. Just like that, so DH Lawrence wrote. Shame, which is fear. AND judgement.

In the name of peace They waged the wars Ain't they got no shame

If a woman sleeps alone it puts a shame on all men. God has a very big heart, but there is one sin He will not forgive. If a woman calls a man to her bed and he will not go.

The intellectual tradition is one of servility to power, and if I didn't betray it I'd be ashamed of myself.

He has shamed me, and he'll kill me, but he shan't humble me.

You look as if you have bitten into a turd.

Onlar utans?n sonuçtan' diye kestirip att?. 'Hangi onlar Selim?' dedim. 'Onlar i?te,' dedi. 'Onlar can?m. onlar, onlar, onlar.' 'Öyle ya,' dedim. 'Onlar. Yani biz de?il.

There was no shame in raping a black woman, but there could be shame in loving one.

They're both afraid. They look at their children--Alan has four kids, too--and they're afraid and ashamed of their fear, ashamed of their powerlessness. And they're tired. There are millions of people like them--people who are frightened and just plain tired of all the chaos. They want someone to do something. Fix things. Now!

Sharing is a weakness, a shameful secret. A person who knows what I am can hurt me, betray me, disable me with little effort.

When we have had some of these slaves on board my master's vessels to carry them to other islands, or to America, I have known our mates to commit these acts most shamefully, to the disgrace, not of Christians only, but of men. I have even known them gratify their brutal passion with females not ten years old; and these abominations some of them practised to such scandalous excess, that one of our captains discharged the mate and others on that account.

Do not leave any unexplained, unnarrated situations, any closed doors; kick them down with a curse, even the ones that lead to embarrassing and shameful hallways you would prefer to forget. Don't be ashamed of any fall, of any sin... He who has not mastered the art of speaking shall remain forever caught in a trap.

The only art her guilt to cover,To hide her shame from every eye,To give repentance to her lover,And wring his bosom, is—to die.

When lovely woman stoops to folly, And finds too late that men betray, What charm can sooth her melancholy, What art can wash her guilt away? The only art her guilt to cover, To hide her shame from every eye, To give repentance to her lover, And wring his bosom—is to die.

Thus, my children, after men have travelled through a few stages in vice, shame forsakes them, and returns back to wait upon the few virtues they have still remaining.

In my view, suicide is not really a wish for life to end.' What is it then?' It is the only way a powerless person can find to make everybody else look away from his shame. The wish is not to die, but to hide.

Mine has been a life of much shame. I can't even guess myself what it must be to live the life of a human being.

He could only consider me as the living corpse of a would-be suicide, a person dead to shame, an idiot ghost.

It was not so much shame that I experienced as the feeling that the actual world was an unfamiliar organism utterly unlike the world of my imagination. I was assailed by a sensation of desolation more intense than anything I had previously known, as if I had been abandoned at dusk in an autumnal wasteland where no answering sound would ever come, however often I called. Is that, I wonder, what is meant by the pat phrase "disappointed love"?

My definition of a "respected" man was one who had succeeded almost completely in hoodwinking people, but who was finally seen through by some omniscient, omnipotent person who ruined him and made him suffer a shame worse than death.

Just when I was beginning to forget, that bird of ill-omen came flapping my way, to rip open with its beak the wounds of memory. All at once shame over the past and the recollection of sin unfolded themselves before my eyes and, seized by a terror so great it made me want to shriek, I could not sit still a moment longer. "How about a drink?" I asked.