Quotes & Sayings About Begging For Help

He was surprised at the way she answered. She had taken a long time to say that. She had nodded her head in a deep way too. Had she wished to affect him with some sort of premonition? He wondered unhappily. Or was it only that she would not help him, after all, by talking with him? For he was not strong enough to receive the impact of unfamiliar things without a little talk to break their fall. He had lived a month in which nothing had happened except in his head and his body - an almost inaudible life of heartbeats and dreams that came back, a life of fever and privacy, a delicate life which had left him weak to the point of - what? Of begging. The pulse in his palm leapt like a trout in a brook.

("Death of a Traveling Salesman") — Eudora Welty

Your body is begging for me to fuck it, Gemma, and I think your mind is too."
I can't help myself from responding. "I think you're already doing that."
"What?" he quietly demands.
"Fucking with my mind. — Ella Frank

In the OED editors' defense, they have set out to accomplish something that is inherently impossible - to record the entirety of a language. It is only natural they should occasionally come across words that are virtually indefinable, or that have meanings that have been lost to the ages. Whatever failings or inconsistencies the editors may exhibit are certainly not for lack of effort. James Murray in particular was renowned for attempting to ferret out knowledge, writing letters to every authority he could think of and posting queries in newspapers begging for information on a word. When I read the definition of lege de moy ("App. the name of some dance") I cannot help but imagine that they must have spent a tremendous amount of time looking for the meaning and roots of this word before one of the editors finally threw his hands up in disgust and exclaimed, "What the hell - just say it's some kind of dance or something, and let's get to the pub." As — Ammon Shea

Behind every highly dramatic person lurks an unresolved trauma. Drama is his or her way of asking for love, and begging for help and understanding. — Doreen Virtue

We are creators, and yet we naively play the role of "the created." We see ourselves as helpless sheep buffeted around by the God who made us. We kneel like frightened children, begging for help, for forgiveness, for good luck. But once we realize that we are truly created in the Creator's image, we will start to understand that we, too, must be Creators. When we understand this fact, the doors will burst wide open for human potential. — Dan Brown

So the gods," Moash said, nursing his own drink, "were pleased that you solved problems on your own ... by going to other gods and begging them for help instead?"
"Hush," Rock said. "Is good story. — Brandon Sanderson

New rules - we needed new rules. No one opens the main doors but me. No one leaves the property without me. No one goes outside without letting me know. I had these horrible images in my head of kids being restrained against their wills, of kids crying my name out, begging me to help them when I was powerless. Desperate times ... Lord, my soul called out. Lord ... somehow that's as far as I could get. I didn't have the words. — Laura Anderson Kurk

On my way over to Park Avenue to find a cab I pass an ugly, homeless bum
a member of the genetic underclass
and when he softly pleads for change, for "anything," I noticed the Barnes & Noble book bag that sits next to him on the steps of the church he's begging on and I can't help but smirk, out loud, "Oh right, like YOU read ... , — Bret Easton Ellis

The audience
the book's actual cast
quickly realized what had happened. The reason the movie dropped everything that made the novel real was because there was no way the parents who ran the studio would ever expose their children in the same black light the book did. The movie was begging for our sympathy whereas the book didn't give a shit. And attitudes about drugs and sex had shifted quickly from 1985 to 1987 (and a regime change at the studio didn't help) so the source material
surprisingly conservative despite its surface immorality
had to be reshaped. — Bret Easton Ellis

When I last looked, there weren't queues of eager guys under 40 hanging outside single ladies' doors begging them to give up work and have their babies. It takes two to tango and the same number, without medical help, to make a child. — Mariella Frostrup

She remembers talking to God a lot right after everything happened with Luke. She remembers crying and asking why, over and over. Asking for help, for strength, for understanding. Apologizing for what she did wrong. Talking through everything she could have, should have done differently. Begging for the torment to stop.
She remembers belief and trust slowly turning sour. Still, she kept talking to God out of habit. And because she didn't have anyone else to talk to. At night, in the dark sanctuary of her bedroom, alone, she could say the things she'd been keeping quiet. But she stopped expecting an answer. Stopped hoping for one.
After a while, God felt as distant, as uncaring, as everyone else.
And her prayers faded away. — Kathryn Holmes

I don't mind anybody dropping out of anything, but it's the imposition on somebody else I don't like. The moment you start dropping out and then begging off somebody else to help you, then it's no good. It doesn't matter what you are as long as you work. — George Harrison

Begging for help never gets you any. — George R R Martin

I'm two seconds from dropping to my knees and begging her, but she edges to the door. "You know there's a study group, right? I can give you the number for - "



"I'm already in it," I mutter.



"Oh. Well, then there's not much else I can do for you. Good luck on the makeup test. Baby."



She darts out the door, leaving me staring after her in frustration. Unbelievable. Every girl at this college would cut her frickin' arm off to help me out. But this one? Runs away like I just asked her to murder a cat so we could sacrifice it to Satan.



And now I'm right back to where I was before Hannah-not-with-an-M gave me that faintest flicker of hope.



Royally screwed. — Elle Kennedy

American culture in particular has instilled in us the bizarre notion that to ask for help amounts to an admission of failure. But some of the most powerful, successful, admired people in the world seem, to me, to have something in common: they ask constantly, creatively, compassionately, and gracefully. And to be sure: when you ask, there's always the possibility of a no on the other side of the request. If we don't allow for that no, we're not actually asking, we're either begging or demanding. But it is the fear of the no that keeps so many of our mouths sewn tightly shut. — Amanda Palmer

she hadn't starved to death like they had expected her to, and she hadn't crawled back to them for help either. It gave her satisfaction to know her parents were irked by this. They had fully expected her to fail and run back home, begging them to take her back. — Ania Ahlborn

The Government of India had imprisoned Mr. Gandhi and they had been sitting outside his cell door begging him to help them out of their difficulties. — Winston Churchill

Any fool that had once helped you will someday make known to everyone that you were once a needy. No matter how broke you are, don't ever be quick to ask for help, let it be voluntary, and you must also learn to feign repudiation, no matter how valuable the offer. — Michael Bassey Johnson

With a regrettable sigh he shook his head.
"I'm sorry, but this isn't going to work out."
"What the hell are you doing, Trevor?" Hank
demanded anxiously. No doubt the man
wouldn't be getting laid tonight, but Trevor
couldn't help it. He had his standards and
this woman failed them.
"Maybe we could go grab a cup of coffee
somewhere and get to know-"
He held up his hand, stopping her before she
made an even bigger fool out of herself.
"Please stop."
"But, I was only-"
"Don't beg."
"I wasn't. I was just-"
"Begging?" Trevor guessed, sighing. "I know,
but you're going to have to accept that this
would never work out."
She frowned up at him. "I wasn't begging. I
was just going to suggest that we should-"
"Look," he said, reaching for the door, "this
s just getting sad. I'm just going to go before
things get out of hand. — R.L. Mathewson

As dangerous as Komatsu's plan might be, he could not possibly stop rewriting the novella at this point. He might have been able to give up on the idea before he started working on it, but that was out of the question now. He was up to his neck in it. He was breathing the air of its world, adapting to its gravity. The story's essence had permeated every part of him, to the walls of his viscera. Now the story was begging him to rework it: he could feel it pleading with him for help. This was something that only Tengo could do. It was a job well worth doing, a job he simply had to do. — Haruki Murakami

Begging ocean please, help me drown these memories. All I need to hear is that you're not mine,you're not mine. — Tegan Quin

A dragon did not crawl on its belly in front of its enemies, begging for their help. A dragon did not vow to rid the world of infidels, and then invite them into its home. A dragon did not flee its land in the middle of the night like a criminal.

A dragon burned everything around herself until it was purified in ash. — Kiersten White

help" screamed silently in her head, as if she were begging for something: a solution, a cure, a reprieve. A reprieve from what? A cure for what? A solution for what? Her breathing had become shallow. She'd felt beads of sweat at her hairline. Then she'd seen the sign. Their lease at their Newtown apartment was up. The two-bedroom unit was in an ugly, — Liane Moriarty

There were, of course, other heroes, little ones who did little things to help people get through: merchants who let profits disappear rather than lay off clerks, store owners who accepted teachers' scrip at face value not knowing if the state would ever redeem it, churches that set up soup kitchens, landlords who let tenants stay on the place while other owners turned to cattle, housewives who set out plates of cold food (biscuits and sweet potatoes seemed the fare of choice) so transients could eat without begging, railroad "bulls" who turned the other way when hoboes slipped on and off the trains, affluent families that carefully wrapped leftover food because they knew that residents of "Hooverville" down by the dump would be scavenging their garbage for their next meal, and more, an more. But they were not enough, could not have been enough, so when the government stepped in to help, those needing help we're thankful. — Harvey H. Jackson

Revenge has been my lover for too long," he said, breath hot on my neck. He began sliding down my body, toward the floor, arms around me. "Power, my savior. I need to learn how to put you first, above those things. I need you to help me, to teach me. I don't want to love anything more than you, Eden, so please, I'm begging you, show me how. You need to be my everything. — Karina Halle

How does he do it? Bob in Charge of All Three Kids is an entirely different show
than Sarah in Charge of All Three Kids. With Bob, they're happily willing to be independent little taskmasters, content to leave him in peace until he comes to them with an offer of a new activity. With me, I have all the magnetism of a favorite rock star without the bodyguards. They're on me. A typical example: Linus is under my feet, whining, begging to be picked up, while Lucy hollers, "Mom, I need help!" from another room, while Charlie asks me forty-seven hundred relentless questions about what happens to trash. — Lisa Genova

I'll join you, sir. You'll need help finding your way about the estate."
His lips tightened into a disapproving line. "Begging your pardon, Lady Rosalind, but I didn't have a nursemaid when I was three, so I certainly don't need one now. I'm perfectly capable of navigating an estate alone."
"I'm sure you are - indeed, you demonstrated a remarkable proficiency for it last night, and in a strange house, too. — Sabrina Jeffries

You know that deep down, a tiny part of that proper, respectable woman you are, wants to visit that reckless, sexy, uninhibited place inside you that's begging to get out. A place I can undoubtedly help you find. — K. Bromberg

No, she'd spent the last five years begging the Lord to help her find contentment in her spinster status. And he'd been faithful. She had her library, her Ladies Aid work, the children's reading hour. She could come and go as she pleased, spend her money as she deemed fit, all without the hassle of first gaining a man's permission. And if the loneliness sometimes ate away at her like water poured on a sugarloaf ... ? Well, God had seen her through the last five years. She figured he could be depended upon to see her through the next fifty. — Karen Witemeyer

A couple months after school started that year, I just plain stopped going to see the Maje. I remember coming home one day and checking the answering machine in my bedroom. The first message was from the Maje. He was waiting for me to come over. He sounded feeble and desperate: "Steve, where are you? I need you? Are you coming? Please . . ." I deleted it. The next message was also from the Maje and said pretty much the same thing. Delete. There must have been a dozen messages on that machine from the Maje, all begging me, pleading with me, to come help him. I deleted every single one of them. To this day, I have no idea what happened to the Maje, no idea if he ever got that cataract surgery. That's how our relationship ended. It still makes me feel horrible to think about now: I just deleted the Maje. — Stephen "Steve-O" Glover