Quotes About Shame

I shall always be pointed at as the girl who flavored a cake with anodyne liniment.

one sin demands another to cover it.

Now that the crisis had come she found herself able to confront it coolly - nay, more, to take a curious interest in it under all her secret fear and shame, as if some part of her had detached itself from the rest and was interestingly absorbing impressions and analyzing motives and describing settings.

Humiliation is so essential to Catholics. And to faggots!

Should have shames a good slave. It shames a good man, period.

Nothing had spared her from being mocked for wetting her pants, not even the fact that she had rushed to the delegado's aid.

So exiled have even basic questions of freedom become from the political vocabulary that they sound musty and ridiculous, and vulnerable to the ultimate badge of shame-'That's so 60's!'-the entire decade having been mocked so effectively that social protest seems outlandish and 'so last century,' just another style excess like love beads and Nehru jackets. No, rebellion won't pose a problem for this social order.

As if all that weren't enough, factor in the whole tedious millenial saga of female virtue, modesty, shame, repression, male ineptitude...in short, a cruel combo of anatomical inheritance and sexual inhibition for the gal set; a nature-culture one-two punch, right to the female pleasure principle.

Sure, writing has its moments of sublimity - grasping after the ineffable, realizing something just out of reach - yet at every instance modulated by the chronic substratum of shame about having taken a dump in public. - Humiliation Artists

Sure, writing has its moments of sublimity - grasping after the ineffable, realizing something just out of reach - yet at every instance modulated by the chronic substratum of shame about having taken a dump in public.

Any morsel that wasn't low-calorie was "sinful," "naughty," "gobble gobble gobble," "heavy sinning," or "a cruel but devastating lover." Just

I was sidhe enough that I didn't understand the American trait of being totally fascinated with sex, and totally uncomfortable with it...'You are totally comfortable with this line of questioning, aren't you Meredith?' he asked. 'I am not ashamed of anything I've done, Mr. Verducci. They Fey, outside of some in the Seelie court, see no shame in sex, as long as it's consentual...It's sex. There's nothing wrong with sex.

with the complete lack of shame of the extremely deaf and the complete lack of grammar of the extremely inbred.

I can see us, living in the woods, her wearing that A, me with a S maybe, S for silent, S for stupid, for scared. S for silly. For shame.

Shame, turned inside out, is rage.

It's a shame we can't just admit that we failed family living, sell the house, split up the money, and get on with our lives.

The taste of shame smells like stubborn vomit in your hair lingering no matter how often you was it sometimes you have to shave yourself bald and start again like a newly hatched chick leaving the faint rot of broken magic in shattered eggshell pieces behind you.

Mr. Freeman thinks I need to find my feelings. How can I not find them? They are chewing me alive like an infestation of thoughts, shame, mistakes. I squeeze my eyes shut. Jeans that fit, that's a good start. I have to stay away from the closet, go to all my classes. I will make myself normal. Forget the rest of it

Rape wounds deeply, splits open your core with shrapnel. The stench of the injury attracts maggots which hatch into clouds of doubt and self-loathing the dirt you feel inside you nourishes anxiety, depression, and shame poisoning your blood, festering in your brain until you will do anything to stop feeling the darkness rising within anything to stop feeling– untreated pain is a cancer of the soul that can kill you

Sisters, drop everything. Walk away from the lake, leaning on each other's shoulders when you need the support. Feel the contradictions of another truth ready to be born: shame turned inside out is rage.

The playground was a war of girls versus boys and now I feel shame cuz some kids must have wanted to stand with the other team, and some must have wanted new teams entirely, but the world was drawn for us binary in clumsy chalk lines, and we'd try to do better when we were in charge.

S for silent, for stupid, for scared. S for silly. For shame.

We're taught to be ashamed of confusion, anger, fear and sadness, and to me they're of equal value to happiness, excitement and inspiration.

In sad truth, half our forebodings of our neighbors are but our own wishes, which we are ashamed to utter in any other form.