Be Soft But Not Weak Quotes & Sayings

The average American is just like the child in the family. You give him some responsibility and he is going to amount to something. He is going to do something. If, on the other hand, you make him completely dependent and pamper him and cater to him too much, you are going to make him soft, spoiled and eventually a very weak individual. — Richard M. Nixon

...man becomes a soft, flabby, weak creature. This is especially true in a privileged society like that found in the United States, where a metrosexual will squeal like a little bitch if the Vietnamese lady giving him his manicure cuts too close to his cuticle. Not only will such a pathetic creature be unable to stand even the mildest rite of passage, but if he even witnesses one, he will have to undergo years of therapy to cure his posttraumatic stress. — Dave Nichols

A brother," she said, her voice soft.
The baby started to cry, a weak, garbled sound that worried the nurse. Lada's scowl deepened. She slapped a dimpled hand over his mouth. The nurse pulled him away quickly, and Lada looked up, face contorted in rage.
"Mine!" she shouted.
It was her first word.
The nurse laughed, shocked, and lowered the baby once more. Lada glared at him until he stopped crying. Then, apparently satisfied, she toddled out of the room. — Kiersten White

Watching him climb, William's perception shifted again with a bone-rattling jolt. Christian was not soft, he realized. There was nothing of the coddled child in him. He was hard and tough as sinew. Refined? Refined as a purebred stallion, perhaps, or an elemental sprite. But not weak, no. He was a powerful and strong man. For — Eli Easton

Brendan wasn't sure how he felt about having someone defend his honor. He might look like some fairy tale prince, but he'd never thought of himself as soft or weak, someone that needed rescuing. But then he'd never had mobster bitches from hell on his ass either. — Darien Cox

This doesn't change anything," I stammered, my defenses fading.
"It changes everything." He sounded so sure of himself as his soft lips silenced my weak protest. — J. Sterling

In the long ago, in the gentle days, Brother Grumlow carved wood, worked with saw and chisel. When hard times come carpenters are apt to get nailed to crosses. Grumlow took up the knife and learned to carve men. He looks soft, my brother of the blade, slight in build, light in colour, weak chin, sad eyes, all of him drooping like the moustache that hangs off his lip. Yet he has fast hands and no fear of a sharp edge. Come against him with just a dagger for company and he will cut you a new opinion. — Mark Lawrence

Gregori glided closer to the couple, his graceful elegance failing to conceal the rippling strength of his muscles and the power emanating from his body. He looked totally confident, relaxed, completely fearless.
The soft rumbling in Jacques' throat increased; his fingers tightened possessively, crushing bones and tendon in Shea's upper arm. Gregori stopped moving immediately. "I am sorry, woman, I know you are weak, but you will have to move to the other side of him or he will not allow me to help," Gregori instructed calmly. What we need, Mikhail, is Raven's calming influence. You look about as reassuring as a Bengal tiger.
Oh, and you look like a bunny rabbit, Mikhail scoffed.
"You could have brought Raven along," Gregori chided softly, aloud. "You bring her along on every other dangerous thing she should not be involved in." That was a clear reprimand. "You might have brought her where she could actually do some good. — Christine Feehan

For every one pupil who needs to be guarded against a weak excess of sensibility there are three who need to be awakened from the slumber of cold vulgarity. The task of the modern educator is not to cut down jungles but to irrigate deserts. The right defence against false sentiments is to inculcate just sentiments. By starving the sensibility of our pupils we only make them easier prey to the propagandist when he comes. For famished nature will be avenged and a hard heart is no infallible protection against a soft head. — C.S. Lewis

Upon returning from the store, he would put the meat into the freezer, hide his favorite fruits in the bathroom cabinet, and stuff everything else into the crisper. It was, of course, too late for crisp, but he took the refrigerator drawer at its word, insisting that it was capable of reviving the dead and returning them, hale and vibrant, to the prime of their lives. Subjected to a few days in his beloved crisper, a carrot would become as pale and soft as a flaccid penis.
"Hey," he'd say. "Somebody ought to eat this before it goes bad."

He'd take a bite, and the rest of us would wince at the unnatural silence. Too weak to resist, the carrot quietly surrendered to the force of his jaws. An overcooked hot dog would have made more noise. Wiping the juice from his lips, he would insist that this was the best carrot he'd ever eaten.
"You guys don't know what you're missing."
I think we had a pretty good idea. — David Sedaris

For a long moment there was only the sound of her soft, half-gasping little breaths, and the thud of his heart, loud in his ears. He had never felt this ... this liberation, this unfettered contentment. Not with another woman, not after a hard day of accomplishment, not after a brilliant business maneuver, not even after beating his brothers at anything. His body was wrung out with physical satisfaction, his mind fely fogged and sluggish, but his head ...
'If this be madness,' came Francesca's weak voice from behind the shining veil of her hair, 'lead me to Bedlam.'
'Perhpas tomorrow. I don't think I can make it further than the bed. — Caroline Linden

The rigid and big belong below. The soft and weak belong above. — Laozi

And that aroma of sex ... soft baby asparagus cut with a weak solution of Clorox. — Gregory Maguire

As long as I can remember, male candy eaters have been ill-used, misunderstood, and denigrated, in films and on television, as weak, self-indulgent, soft, effeminate, undisciplined, and venal. Most of us have been driven underground. We eat our candy alone and on the sly. We never experience the intimacy of sharing candy with others - unless we have chosen our mates wisely. — Jeffrey Steingarten

Therefore the place of what is firm and strong is below, and that of what is soft and weak is above. — Lao-Tzu

Again, I whisper.
The corner of his mouth lifts, and then I kiss him. Not so gently this time. His hands drop from my face and grab my waist and pull me to him. A small soft groan excapes him, and that noise makes me feel absolutely crazy. I lose it. I wind my hands around his neck and kiss him without holding anything back. I can feel his heart thundering like mine, his breath coming faster, his arms tightening around me.
And then I can feel what he feels. He's waited for this moment. He loves how I feel in his arms. He loves the smell of my hair. He loves the way I looked at him just now, flushed and wanting more from him. He loves the color of my lips and now the taste of my mouth is making his knees feel weak and he doesn't want to seem weak in front of me. So i draw back, and his breath comes out in a rush. His arms drop away from me. — Cynthia Hand

Weak Forces

I enjoy an accumulating
faith in weak forces--
a weak faith, of course,
easily shaken, but also
easily regained--in what
starts to drift: all the
slow untrainings of the mind,
the sift left of resolve
sustained too long, the
strange internal shift
by which there's no knowing
if this is the raod taken
or untaken. There are soft
affinities, possibly electrical;
lint-like congeries; moonlit
hints; asymmetrical pink
glowy spots that are no
the defeat of something,
I don't think. — Kay Ryan