Quotes About Embarrassment

You can tell a true war story if it embarrasses you. If you don't care for obscenity, you don't care for the truth; if you don't care for the truth, watch how you vote. Send guys to war, they come home talking dirty. Listen

They carried their reputations. They carried the soldier's greatest fear, which was the fear of blushing. Men killed, and died, because they were embarrassed not to. It was what had brought them to the war in the first place, nothing positive, no dreams of glory or honor, just to avoid the blush of dishonor. They died so as not to die of embarrassment.

They carried the soldier's greatest fear, which was the fear of blushing. Men killed, and died, because they were embarrassed not to. It was what had brought them to the war in the first place, nothing positive, no dreams of glory or honor, just to avoid the blush of dishonor. They died so as not to die of embarrassment.

They carried the soldier's greatest fear, which was the fear of blushing. Men killed, and died, because they were embarrassed not to. It was what had brought them to the war in the first place, nothing positive, no dreams of glory or honor, just to avoid the blush of dishonor.

And right then I submitted. I would go to the war—I would kill and maybe die—because I was embarrassed not to. That was the sad thing. And so I sat in the bow of the boat and cried. It was loud now. Loud, hard crying.

They were afraid of dying but they were even more afraid to show it...they died so as not to die of embarrassment...they were too frightened to be cowards." (p 20-21 "TTTC")

And right then I submitted. I would go to war - I would kill and maybe die - because I was embarrassed not to. That was the sad thing. And so I sat in the bow of the boat and cried. It was loud now. Loud, hard crying.

thought this uproariously funny, but no one laughed.

There was no dignified way to answer a question about your underwear.

It is, quite simply, humiliating.

You turned red all over, Finn," Aiden said helpfully. "So did Teagan. As red as Kool-Aid." The back of Finn's neck went from pink lemonade to Blastin' Berry Cherry. "Yeah," Aiden said. "Like that." "I don't want to talk about it," Finn said.

I shook my head. "Go on, swear it!" "I swear by my life!" cried Aunt Maddy happily. "I swear," murmured the others, rather embarrassed. Nick began giggling nervously, because Aunt Maddy had begum humming the national anthem to show what a solemn occasion it was.

Surprised at those words, his assistant let go of the saliva ejector, which slid halfway down my throat. Apparently, the latest updates on the boss's private life had not gotten around yet. "Ghghghgh," I said. "Sorry," Lena whispered.

Thanksgiving, man. Not a good day to be my pants.

There aren't any embarrassing questions--just embarrassing answers.

Confabulation, distortion, and plain forgetting are the foot soldiers of memory, and they are summoned to the front lines when the totalitarian ego wants to protect us from the pain and embarrassment of actions we took that are dissonant with our core self-images:

Elliot predicted that if people go through a great deal of pain, discomfort, effort, or embarrassment to get something, they will be happier with that "something" than if it came to them easily. For behaviorists, this was a preposterous prediction. Why would people like anything associated with pain? But for Elliot, the answer was obvious: self-justification.

I go over the mistake in my head a dozen times a day. How I was hiding in a closet upstairs at the Salinger house. How I had to pee but couldn't leave. So I pissed in a mug—a ceramic mug—and I put the mug down on the hardwood floor of the closet. I ran when I had the chance, and there is no way around it: I forgot the mug.

If anyone reads this when I have passed to the big bad beyond I shall be posthumorously embarrassed. I shall spend my entire afterlife blushing.

If I'd known about all the masturbating I would generate—well, that would've been extraordinarily weird from many angles and I'm glad it didn't come up, as it were.

If anyone reads this when I have passed to the big bad beyond I shall be posthumorously embarrassed. I shall spend my entire afterlife blushing. I'm

He wipes his hand on his shirt. What? Did I drool on you?" A little." You're a wolf. You should be used to drool." That's low.

Mrs Nix smacks herself in the head again. If she keeps that up she'll bruise

He's not my boyfriend." "Ha. That's a good one. I saw you two tonsil surfing out there." I could kill her. "I don't even have tonsils!" "I know that and I bet Nick knows that too, now." She slaps her leg because she's just too funny for words.