A Man Stepping Up Quotes & Sayings

We laugh at a man who, stepping out of his room at the very minute when the sun is rising, says, "It is my will that the sun shall rise"; or at him who, unable to stop a wheel, says, "I wish it to roll"; or, again, at him who, thrown in a wrestling match, says, "Here I lie, but here I wish to lie." But, joking apart, do we not act like one of these three persons whenever we use the expression "I wish"? — Friedrich Nietzsche

MMA for me was a stepping stone in my life as a man to grow ... The stress and the fears and anxiety you've got to overcome in that moment is not something you're ever going to gain in a daily lifetime routine. — Enson Inoue

The winter drove them mad. It drove every man mad who had ever lived through it; there was only ever the question of degree. The sun disappeared, and you could not leave the tunnels, and everything and everyone you loved was ten thousand miles away. At best, a man suffered from strange lapses in judgment and perception, finding himself at the mirror about to comb his hair with a mechanical pencil, stepping into his undershirt, boiling up a pot of concentrated orange juice for tea. Most men felt a sudden blaze of recovery in their hearts at the first glimpse of a pale hem of sunlight on the horizon in mid-September. But there were stories, apocryphal, perhaps, but far from dubious, of men in past expeditions who sank so deeply into the drift of their own melancholy that they were lost forever. And few among the wives and families of the men who returned from a winter on the Ice would have said what they got back was identical to what they had sent down there. — Michael Chabon

We're glad you're here." Brastias stood beside her now, covered in blood, the majority of which she doubted belonged to him.
"Sorry I took so long, my friend." She tested the weight of her blades. As always they felt good in her hands. She was ready.
"Where is he, Brastias?"
"Up there." He pointed to a ridge where she could hear the war cries of men. But between her and her brother lay a battery of troops screaming for her blood.
One soldier ran for her, the blood lust having grabbed hold of his mind. She brought her two swords together, stepping aside as the man's head snapped off his body.
Annwyl smiled at Brastias. "Perhaps you should let me take this from here."
She wondered what he saw on her face when she looked at him, because he visibly blanched and backed away from her. "As always, Annwyl. They're all yours."
Annwyl smiled and charged in, killing all that stood in her way and did not wear the colors of her army. — G.A. Aiken

The lesson here is, the way of truth is a very narrow path. Jesus was the Word made flesh. He spoke the Word of truth because He was truth. So when he began to explain to his disciples what had to come to pass in order that man's redemption could be attained, he was speaking God's truth. But when Peter reacted as he did, he was using his five senses and was going directly against the revealed Word of truth. Thus he was stepping off the narrow path and into error. — Patrick Heron

Amid the seeming confusion of our mysterious world , individuals are so nicely adjusted to a system, and systems to one another and to a whole, that, by stepping aside for a moment, a man exposes himself to a fearful risk of losing his place forever. (Wakefield) — Nathaniel Hawthorne

I am grateful for the support of those who want to see more women in Congress to better represent our country and provide leadership and solutions to DC. Ron Barber has been asleep at the switch on issues that are extremely important to Southern Arizona, such as fighting for the A-10 and Davis-Monthan. That is why Nancy Pelosi is stepping in to try to save his job in November. Sometimes the best man for the job is a woman that is why I fully intend on replacing Congressman Barber on Election Day. — Martha McSally

It's not man's job to think about whether God exists or not, especially when you know that right in front of your eyes one person is stepping on another's neck. — Eka Kurniawan

Indeed Not. Stop kicking me, Daine. You understand, she is very important to a number of powerful nobles and mages in Tortall." Numair's voice was quiet, almost friendly; his eyes were hard. "Their majesties. Lady Alanna and her husband, the baron of Pirate's Swoop. Me. All of us would take iit amiss if we thought for a moment she was being trifled with, particularly by a young man who wasn't free to do the right thing by her."
"Numair," Daine growled. "Can I speak to you privately for a moment?
"No. Stepping on my foot won't work either. Do I make myself clear, Prince Kaddar? — Tamora Pierce

It's not about who you sleep with, or whether you know about sports or tools or have a pearl-wearing wife or whether commercials make you cry. [ ... ] it's about whether you step up. When something hard comes along. A man steps up. He doesn't dodge it or run away from it or try to push it onto someone else. He steps up. Even if it isn't his responsibility. And that's why there are so many guys and so few men. Because stepping up is hard. — Ben Monopoli

What tender and devoted mother wouldn't be dismayed and ill with terror at her son's or daughter's stepping even one hair's breath off the beaten track. No, better let him be happy and live in comfort without originality, is what every mother thinks when she rocks the cradle. The only person among us who can fail to reach the general's rank is the original man - in other words, the man who won't be quiet. — Fyodor Dostoevsky

The names of Northern railway stations in a timetable where he would like to imagine himself stepping from the train on an autumn evening when the trees are already bare and smelling strongly in the keen air, an insipid publication for people of taste, full of names that he has not heard since childhood, may have far greater value for him than five volumes of philosophy, and lead people of taste to say that for a man of talent, he has very stupid tastes. — Marcel Proust

There's an image that some of us have of Jackie Onassis, stepping out in the rain, and Maurice Tempelsman is holding her umbrella. We want that man. We want the man to be the concierge and the masseur and the travel booker. — Sandra Tsing Loh

One of the crazies moved into the cone of light beneath a streetlight. It was a black man, high-stepping and making jerking movements with his arms. He made a crisp turn and began moving back into the darkness. He was a trombone player in a matching band in a world somewhere else. — Michael Connelly

Alec decided to go first this time, stepping through the doorway and onto the landing. He reached back and pulled his flashlight out of his pack, clicked it on and shined it down the steps. Mark leaned in to see dust motes dancing in the bright beam. Alec was just putting his foot forward to start down when a voice rang out from below. "C-c-come any closer and I'll l-l-light the match." It was a man's voice, weak and shaky. Alec glanced back at Mark with a questioning look. — James Dashner

When we got to the moron who was sitting in the only path to the stairway, Adam caught my waist and lifted me over before stepping over the man himself.
"Scott?" Adam said as we headed upstairs. "Yeah?"
"Unless someone shoots you, skins you, and throws the results on the floor, I don't want to see you lying in the walkway again."
"Yessir! — Patricia Briggs

own. That was the reflection that made you creepy all over. It was impossible - it was not good for one either - trying to imagine. He had taken a high seat amongst the devils of the land - I mean literally. You can't understand. How could you? - with solid pavement under your feet, surrounded by kind neighbors ready to cheer you or to fall on you, stepping delicately between the butcher and the policeman, in the holy terror of scandal and gallows and lunatic asylums - how can you imagine what particular region of the first ages a man's untrammeled feet may take him into by the way of solitude - utter solitude without a policeman - by the way of silence, utter silence, — Joseph Conrad

That night we danced, I marked you as mine and I made it stick. There wasn't a boy or a man on that lake that didn't know who you belonged to, and the minute there was even a whiff one of them was stepping over the line, they walked funny for a week. — Lora Leigh

When you're kissing a woman and you want it to look realistic, you're thinking, 'Am I taking advantage of her? Is her boyfriend going to think I'm over-stepping the mark? Whereas when you are kissing a man, those thoughts don't cross your mind. I'm more scared of it looking false, so I went for it fully to make it look real and hopefully I've achieved that. — Rob James-Collier

But here we call it Spring, when a young man's fancy turns,
fitfully, lightly, to idling in the sun,
to touching in the dark. And the old man's?
To worms in their garden box; stepping aside
a moment in a poem that will remember,
fitfully, who made it and the discord
and stammer, and change of heart and catch of breath
it sprang from. A bending down
lightly to touch the earth. — David Malouf

never allow a man to devour your growth in order for you to remain two levels beneath him. You weren't created to be a stepping stone. You weren't created to be a punching bag. That's not something you should accept as the definition of love. — Ja'nai Ivory

When she treads on my grave and feels as if she's trampling on that doting old man's bones, my spirit will still be alive, feeling the whole weight of her body, feeling pain, feeling the fine-grained velvety smoothness of the soles of her feet. Even after I'm dead I'll be aware of that. I can't believe I won't. In the same way, Satsuko will be aware of the presence of my spirit, joyfully enduring her weight. Perhaps she may even hear my charred bones rattling together, chuckling, moaning, creaking. And that would by no means occur only when she was actually stepping on my grave. At the very thought of those Buddha's Footprints modeled after her own feet she would hear my bones wailing under the stone. Between sobs I would scream: It hurts! It hurts! ... Even though it hurts, I'm happy - I've never been more happy, I'm much, much happier than when I was alive! ... Trample harder! Harder! — Jun'ichiro Tanizaki

The woman who presents herself to the spectator as a 'picture' forever arranged, is, for the contemplative mind, the chiefest danger. Sometimes one meets a woman who is beast turning human. Such a person's every movement will reduce to an image of a forgotten experience; a mirage of an eternal wedding cast on the racial memory; as insupportable a joy as would be the vision of an eland coming down an aisle of trees, chapleted with orange blossoms and bridal veil, a hoof raised in the economy of fear,stepping in the trepidation of flesh that will become myth; as the unicorn is neither man nor beast deprived, but human hunger pressing its breast to its prey.
Such a woman is the infected carrier of the past; before her the structure of our head and jaws ache -- we feel that we could eat her, she who is eaten death returning, for only then do we put our face close to the blood on the lips of our forefathers. — Djuna Barnes

Grumpy Wes stomps into the bedroom and I follow him, because it's one of two functional rooms in our place. I set down the coffee maker and watch while he throws off his shirt and climbs onto our giant bed. "Would you please get over here?" he whines. "It's an emergency." "It's a good thing you're so attractive," I mutter as I ditch my shoes. "I had no idea that stepping into a store turned you into cryin' Ryan." I walk over to the bed where a shirtless, ripped man lies waiting for me, his expression burning up with lust. — Sarina Bowen

You won't be the reason our family falls apart because I wouldn't allow a woman who loves my son as much as you do to walk out of his life." Stepping closer, Lillian placed a tentative hand on Emily's shoulder, her eyes spilling over with tears. "I wouldn't allow you to walk out of our lives. What you were about to give up, though it would've hurt my son, was selfless. I once knew a girl who loved a man so much it scared her, too." Lillian paused, her gaze falling on Chad. The corner of her mouth turned up in a small, sad smile as he made his way toward her. Bringing her eyes back to Emily's, Lillian shook her head. "It would've killed me if I had to give up those stolen breaths before he kissed me. Whether or not the baby you're carrying is my grandchild, I'd be honored to call you my daughter. — Gail McHugh

He started his engine and turned on the windshield wipers in time to see a tall old man stepping out of the cab. He paid the driver, then turned and stood motionless under a misty streetlamp's glow, staring up at a window of the house like a melancholy traveler frozen in time. As — William Peter Blatty

I get so much as a whiff of you not doing what you should be doing to get her through this, I have no problem stepping back in. She deserves someone who will treat her right." "I feel you," I said, nodding. Maybe a lesser man would have been pissed. He had outright just declared that if I slipped up, he planned on stealing my woman out from under me. But, that being said, no woman could be stolen if she was being treated right. — Jessica Gadziala

Continue to invest in your personal development. Expand your occupational horizons by constant study ... look to your present job as a stepping-stone along your career path. Take time to think. The dimensions of most jobs are constrained only by the mind of the uncreative worker. I like what one business man counseled: If at first you do succeed, try something harder!!! — J. Richard Clarke

To me, this is from a Buddhist perspective or whatever, sometimes people who are working out their political beliefs, they can rage against the man, and yet at the same time can be oblivious to their own way of stepping on the foot of the person right next to them. — Mike White

C'mon, man!" B exclaimed. "It's one thing to be gay, but pinky swearing is for chicks!" "You do it, too," Ivy said, stepping through the doorway. "So don't be acting like you don't." "Burned," Rome sang. "Aww, baby, why you gotta do me like that? — Cambria Hebert

Look at nature with science as a lens. The rock swarms, the clod dances; the mineral is but the vegetable stepping down, and the animal an ascending plant; the man, a beast extended; and the angel, a developed human soul. — C. A. Bartol

Wenna followed us out. "You've done him some good, Clary, I have to say! He's got color in his cheeks, and he's stepping along as if he was sixty again," she told Goodwin as she walked us to the gate. "You'll come back?"
"Of course," Goodwin said. "But thank Cooper for his improved spirits. Once he'd insulted her a few times, he was in the pink. — Tamora Pierce

I am thinking that you're verra beautiful, Sassenach," he said softly.
"Maybe if one has a taste for gooseflesh on a large scale," I said tartly, stepping out of the tub and reaching for the cup.
He grinned suddenly at me, teeth flashing white in the dimness of the cellar. "Oh, aye," he said. "Well, you're speaking to the only man in Scotland who has a terrible cockstand at sight of a plucked chicken. — Diana Gabaldon

It was so different than kissing Dancer. Dancer's kiss was sweet and dreamy and exciting. Ryodan's kiss had razor edges, sharp and dangerous as the man. Being in Dancer's arms was like living on the edible planet. Being in Ryodan's was like stepping into the eye of a cyclone. Dancer was easy laughter and a normal future (sans abrupt death). Ryodan was endless challenge and a future that was impossible to imagine.
Dancer accepted me any way I wanted to be without question. Ryodan made me question myself and pushed me to be the most I could be. — Karen Marie Moning

The detectives slide back on the digital timeline to the moment when Mendelssohn steps out into the snowstorm: there is something of the Greek epic about it, the old gray man with his walking stick, venturing out, into the snow, out of frame and away, like an ancient word stepping off a page. — Colum McCann

Then there was organ music, a sort of feverish dirge, and then I was stepping out of my shorts and into the shower with Chenault. I remember the feel of those soapy little hands washing my back, keeping my eyes tightly shut while my soul fought a hopeless battle with my groin, then giving up like a drowning man and soaking the bed with our bodies. — Hunter S. Thompson

Every achievement of man is a value in itself, but it is also a stepping-stone to greater achievements and values. Life is growth; not to move forward, is to fall backward; life remains life, only so long as it advances. Every step upward opens to man a wider range of action and achievement
and creates the need for that action and achievement. There is no final, permanent "plateau". The problem of survival is never "solved", once and for all, with no further thought or motion required. More precisely, the problem of survival is solved, by recognizing that survival demands constant growth and creativeness. — Ayn Rand

Religion holds a man back from the path, prevents his stepping forward, for various very plain reasons. First, it makes the vital mistake of distinguishing between good and evil. — Mabel Collins

As we dried off, Judd demanded, "Say you're mine."
The dark look in Judd's eyes was intense. The angry tension in his expression made me feel like someone had doubted his right to me and he was proving them wrong.
"I'm yours forever."
"I won't let you go. Even if you want to leave, I won't be able to let you leave."
"Wait, are you threatening me?" I asked, squinting at him.
"I'm threatening the guy who tries to take you away."
"What's he like?" I teased, stepping away from his curious fingers. "How does he woo me from my man?"
"Who cares? He'll be dead before he touches you."
"Because I'm yours?" I said, backing up towards the bed. "Because I'll always be yours?"
Watching me slide under the covers and hold them up for him, Judd gave me a soft smile. "You really are my angel."
"And you'll always be my knight. — Bijou Hunter

So Henry found himself stepping off the bus three stops early and wandering over to the Panama Hotel, a place between worlds when he was a child, a place between times now that he was a grown man. — Jamie Ford

Or, obversely, he might kill a man himself. It would be a question of throwing up his rifle, pressing the trigger, and a particular envelope of lusts and anxieties and perhaps some goodness would be quite dead. All as easy as stepping on an insect, perhaps easier ... Everything was completely out of whack, none of the joints fitted. The men had been singing in the motor pool, and there had been something nice about it, something childish and brave. And they were here on this road, a point moving along in a line in the vast neutral spaces of the jungle. And somewhere else a battle might be going on. The artillery, the small-arms fire they had been hearing constantly, might be nothing, something scattered along the front, or it might be all concentrated now in the minuscule inferno of combat. None of it matched. The night had broken them into all the isolated units that actually they were. — Norman Mailer

He was, she realised, quite graceful. The very idea surprised her. Male grace was a quality she'd never thought of beyond the ballroom; either a man could dance a quadrille with skill and without stepping on her feet or he could not. But here was another kind of grace altogether
and untrained grace, an instinctive animal grace. — Pamela Clare

I remember stepping off and thinking that it might not be a good idea to let anyone know that I'm a homosexual, which is hilarious because I'm probably the gayest man I know. I had these huge dreams and they came to fruition so quickly. — Leslie Jordan

Dear Isabelle, Alec is about to have a nervous breakdown. If you do not immediately desist planing my wedding to your brother, I will come back to Manhattan and blow up the Institute. I will turn Church into a man-eating beast who will rampage through the streets of Manhattan, stepping on mundanes. And I will make you fat. Love, Magnus — Cassandra Clare

He sees with amazement that our defeats are but the stepping stones to victory and that all his victories are stepping stones to ruin. It was apparent to me that this bad man saw quite clearly the shadow of slowly and remorselessly approaching doom, and he railed at fortune for mocking him with the glitter of fleeting success. — Winston Churchill

Misfortune is a stepping stone for genius, the baptismal font of Christians, treasure for the skillful man, an abyss for the feeble. — Honore De Balzac