Quotes & Sayings About Being A Good Lady

It seemed like he could never figure out which Trudie he loved the best, the docile church basement lady in the moon boots or the rebellious chick with the sexy lingerie. I imagine that both of those extremes were just poses and that the real Trudie fell somewhere in between. But that's the thing about this town - there's no room for in between. You're in or you're out. You're good or you're bad. Actually, very good or very bad. Or very good at being very bad without being detected. — Miriam Toews

It does a man good to see his lady being brave while she has their baby ... it inspires him. — Ina May Gaskin

Nature, being a wise and provident lady, governs her parts very wisely, methodically, and orderly: Also, she is very industrious and hates to be idle, which makes her employ her time as a good housewife doth. — Margaret Cavendish

As to your sister, she is quite a peach, is she not? You have been hiding her from me."
Lady Maccon would not be goaded. "Really, Channing, she is practically" - she paused to do some calculations - "one-twentieth your age. Or worse. Don't you want some maturity in your life?"
"Good God, no!"
"Well, how about some human decency?"
"Now you're just being insulting." Alexia huffed in amusement.
Channing raised blond eyebrows at her, handsome devil that he was. "Ah, but this is what I enjoy so much about immortality. The decades may pass for me, but the ladies, well, they will keep coming along all young and beautiful, now, won't they?"
"Channing, someone should lock you away."
"Now, Lady Maccon, that transpires tomorrow night, remember? — Gail Carriger

Wit was insulting each person as they stepped onto the island. "Brightness Marakal! What a
disaster that hairstyle is; how brave of you to show it to the world. Brightlord Marakal, I wish you'd
warned us you were going to attend; I'd have forgone supper. I do so hate being sick after a full meal.
Brightlord Cadilar! How good it is to see you. Your face reminds me of someone dear to me."
"Really?" wizened Cadilar said, hesitating.
"Yes," Wit said, waving him on, "my horse. Ah, Brightlord Neteb, you smell unique today - did you
attack a wet whitespine, or did one just sneeze on you? Lady Alami! No, please, don't speak - it's much
easier to maintain my illusions regarding your intelligence that way. And Brightlord Dalinar." Wit nodded
to Dalinar as he passed. "Ah, my dear Brightlord Taselin. Still engaged in your experiment to prove a
maximum threshold of human idiocy? Good for you! Very empirical of you. — Brandon Sanderson

Late in the 16th centurt, William Cecil's son, Thomas reortedthat Philip had said that 'whatever he suffered from Queen Elizabeth was the judgement of God because, being married to Queen Elizabeth, whom he though a most virtuous and good lady, yet in the fancy of love he could not affect her; but as for the Lady Elizabeth; he was enamored of her, being a fair and beautiful woman. — Alison Weir

How good it had felt to be chosen by him, even in the midst of her horror at what was about to happen, at his discovering she was an imposter. It was like being in his arms after he rescued her from falling off the balcony, his fine woolen tunic against her cheek. So much heaven . . . but it could never be. Not for her. She was Avelina the servant, not Dorothea the earl's daughter. Dear heavenly saints. How she wanted him to love her, wanted his love. The pain was so great she doubled over. Lady — Melanie Dickerson

As We Are So Wonderfully Done with Each Other"

As we are so wonderfully done with each other
We can walk into our separate sleep
On floors of music where the milkwhite cloak of childhood lies

O my lady, my fairest dear, my sweetest, loveliest one
Your lips have splashed my dull house with the speech of flowers
My hands are hallowed where they touched over your
soft curving.

It is good to be weary from that brilliant work
It is being God to feel your breathing under me

A waterglass on the bureau fills with morning . . .
Don't let anyone in to wake us. — Kenneth Patchen

The well-mannered man never puts out his hand in greeting until a lady extends hers. This is a test of good breeding that is constantly applied ... The first move in the direction of cordiality must come from the lady, the whole code of behaviour being based on the assumption that she is the social superior. — Humphry Davy

I was in the car with Trace and heard his side of the conversation with you. Sounded clear enough to me."
"Apparently not, cuz I'm not sweet on her. What kind of dumb-ass thing is that to say? I like her, sure, even though she's not the easiest lady to be around."
"No?"
Jackson didn't seem to hear her. He continued on as he pulled food from the tiny fridge and piled it on the counter. "She has her reasons for being prickly, and I know it."
"Those reasons are?"
"And there isn't a man alive who wouldn't want her. She's about the sexiest thing I've ever seen." He shook his head. "But I'm not sweet> about anything." He scoffed. "That sounds like some adolescent bullshit or something."
"You have a very limited vocabulary."
"My balls still hurt. It's affecting my brain."
"Your brain is located a little low, isn't it?"
He paused, then laughed. Shaking a loaf of bread at her, he said, "Good one. I'll have to try to remember this sharp wit of yours. — Lori Foster

Without his even being aware that it was happening, Paul's face rearranged itself into the expression of sincere concentration he always wore while listening to editors. He thought of this as his Can I Help You, Lady? expression. That was because most editors were like women who drive into service stations and tell the mechanic to fix whatever it is that's making that knocking sound under the hood or going wonk-wonk inside the dashboard, and please have it done an hour ago. A look of sincere concentration was good because it flattered them, and when editors were flattered, they would sometimes give in on some of their mad ideas. — Stephen King

I was hoping to do an impressionist painting, but I wanted a good likeness and I wanted to create a feeling of the lady as a person, as a human being rather than as a figurehead for the monarchy and a pomp-and-circumstance sort of formal portrait. I wanted more of a relaxed portrait. — Rolf Harris

Comes again the longing, the desire that has no name. Is it for Mrs. Prouty, for a drink, for both: for a party, for youth, for the good times, for dear good drinking and fighting comrades, for football-game girls in the fall with faces like flowers? Comes the longing and it has to do with being fifteen and fifty and with the winter sun striking down into a brick-yard and on clapboard walls rounded off with old hard blistered paint and across a doorsill onto linoleum. Desire has a smell: of cold linoleum and gas heat and the sour piebald bark of crepe myrtle. A good-humored thirty-five-year-old lady takes the air in a back lot in a small town. — Walker Percy

Genevieve Windham was not pretty, she was exquisite. Pretty in present English parlance meant blond hair and blue eyes, regular features, and a willingness to spend significant sums at the modiste of the hour. Unless a woman was emaciated or obese, her figure mattered little, there being corsets, padding, and other devices available to augment the Creator's handiwork. Failing those artifices, one resorted to the good offices of the portraitist, who could at least render a lady's likeness pretty even if the lady herself were not. Lady Jenny left pretty sitting on its arse in the mud several leagues back. Her eyes were a luminous, emerald green, not blue. Her hair was gold, not blond. Her figure surpassed the willowy lines preferred by Polite Society and veered off into the realms of sirens, houris, and dreams a grown man didn't admit aloud lest he imperil his dignity. The itching over Elijah's body faded in the face of the itch he felt to sketch her. She — Grace Burrowes

The old family carriage and the two lady's maids were there,
as necessaries of life; but London society was not within her reach. It was therefore the case that they had not heard very much about Lizzie Eustace. But they had heard something. "I hope she won't be too fond of going out," said Amelia, the second girl.
"Or extravagant," said Georgina, the third.
"There was some story of her being terribly in debt when she married Sir Florian Eustace," said Diana, the fourth.
"Frederic will be sure to see to that," said Augusta, the eldest.
"She is very beautiful," said Lydia, the fifth.
"And clever," said Cecilia, the sixth.
"Beauty and cleverness won't make a good wife," said Amelia, who was the wise one of the family.
"Frederic will be sure to see that she doesn't go wrong," said Augusta who was not wise. — Anthony Trollope

I want people to understand that from the minute Lady Gaga arrived, she created a new set of rules: being different is good; embrace it. — Simon Cowell

He'd never seen a lady's hair down in a public place, and here was Miss Jerningham - Gabby - blithely shaking her curls, as if the crowd of stevedores, sailors, and boatmen around her were naught.
'A lady does not groom herself in public!'
'I'm afraid I'm used to being on display,' she said brightly. 'In the village, my father and I were the only Europeans. My hair was considered to be a good-luck charm- — Eloisa James

I feel like if you're a really good human being, you can try to find something beautiful in every single person, no matter what. — Lady Gaga

Riposte of "that old lady in the anecdote who was accused by her nieces of being illogical," Logic! Good gracious! What rubbish! How can I tell what I think till I see what I say? — E. M. Forster

Oh, how our good knight reveled in this speech, and more than ever when he came to think of the name that he should give his lady! As the story goes, there was a very good=looking farm girl who lived near by, with whom he had once been smitten, although it is generally believed that she never knew or suspected it. Her name was Aldonza Lorenzo, and it seemed to him that she was the one upon whom he should bestow the title of mistress of his thoughts. For her he wished a name that should not be incongruous with his own and that would convey the suggestion of a princess or a great lady; and, accordingly, he resolved to call her "Dulcinea del Toboso," she being a native of that place. A musical name to his ears, out of the ordinary and significant, like the others he had chosen for himself and his appurtenances. — Miguel De Cervantes Saavedra

I hate it when everyone is so noble and good in a story that you can't imagine it being true at all. — Patricia Finney

At LeakyCon, a young lady asked me how I dealt with bullying. I wasn't able to give her a very good answer, which troubles me. Well, there were lots of shouts of "It gets better" and "Stay strong" and "We love you". But when I put myself back in time to when I was being bullied, none of those things would've helped me. Yes, absolutely it does get better. But when you are being physically and psychologically tortured, it is difficult to remove yourself from the pressingness of the moment at hand. Here's how I dealt with bullying: I cried, I hated myself, I hated my life. I didn't deal with it, I survived it, but I never dealt with it. So here are two tips from someone with lots of experience. 1: It's not about you, it has nothing to do with you, it's about the assholes doing it to you. 2: Your job is not to deal with it, your job is to survive it, which you CAN do because it WILL end. And then yes, it will get better. — Hank Green