Being Under The Thumb Quotes & Sayings

Thus the interpretation of dreams, whether by the analyst or by the dreamer himself, is for the Jungian psychologist an entirely personal and individual business (and sometimes an experimental and very lengthy one as well) that can by no means be undertaken by rule of thumb.
The converse of this is that the communications of the unconscious are of the highest importance to the dreamer-naturally so, since the unconscious is at least half of his total being-and frequently offer him advice or guidance that could be obtained from no other source. — C. G. Jung

The boys quiet until Ben looks across the table at Chon, holds his thumb and index finger a millimeter apart, and says, "We're that close to being gay."
They laugh for half an hour.
Collective dicks — Don Winslow

All my life I'd been told what to believe about politics, coloreds, being a girl. But with Constantine's thumb pressed in my hand, I realized I actually had a choice in what I could believe. — Kathryn Stockett

You do know, right,
that between the no-

longer & the still-
to-come

you are being continually
tattooed, inked

with the skulls of
everyone

you've ever loved - the you
& the you

& the you & the you - you don't
sit in a chair, thumb

through a binder, pick a
design, it simply

happens each time you
bring your fingers to your face

to inhale him back into you . . .
tiny skulls, some of us are

covered. You, love, could

simply tattoo an open
door, light

pouring in from somewhere
outside, you

could make your body a door
so it appears you

(let her fill you) are made
of light. — Nick Flynn

Well,' said our engineer ruefully as we took our seats to return once more to London, 'it has been a pretty business for me! I have lost my thumb and I have lost a fifty-guinea fee, and what have I gained?'
'Experience,' said Holmes, laughing. 'Indirectly it may be of value, you know; you have only to put it into words to gain the reputation of being excellent company for the remainder of your existence. — Arthur Conan Doyle

You're a human being, and every time a list of prize nominations comes out and your name isn't on it, you do have that thumb-in-the-eye feeling. — Alice McDermott

How's your orange juice, Anna? Does it have a touch of lime?"
The glass paused at my lips as I processed his innuendo, and I took a second to make sure my embarrassment stayed hidden inside. I let the drink swish over my tongue a moment before swallowing and answering.
"Actually it's a little sour," I said, and he laughed.
"Thats a shame. " he picked up a green pear from his plate and bit into it, licking juice that dripped down his thumb. My cheeks warmed as I set down my glass.
"Okay, now you're just being crude," I said.
He grinned with lazy satisfaction. — Wendy Higgins

The door exploded inward and a tangle of bug legs appeared.
"I can hold them, but I can't kill them all," Caine shouted.
"Yeah. They're hard to kill. You got a plan?"
Caine bit savagely at his thumb, worrying the cuticle. They were surrounded. The very walls were being battered. The windows were all smashed. They couldn't fit through the door but they would soon make it wide enough.
They stood, Caine and Brianna, in the kitchen, the center of the house, as far as possible from the windows, but now the bugs had their mandibles shoved in through the doors and windows, questing, slicing the air, their ropelike tongues lashing madly.
The entire house was like a drum pounded by dozens of drumsticks.
"You know, I'm kind of disappointed," Brianna said. "Situation like this? Sam would come up with a plan. — Michael Grant

The ethic of ecstasy is the opposite of the trial's ethic; under its protection everybody does whatever he wants: now anyone can suck his thumb as he likes, from infancy to graduation, and it is a freedom no one will be willing to give up; look around you on the Metro; seated or standing, every single person has a finger in some orifice of his face-in the ear, in the mouth, in the nose; no one feels he's being observed, and everyone dreams of writing a book to tell about his unique and inimitable self, which is picking its nose; no one listens to anyone else, everyone writes, and each of them writes the way rock is danced to: alone, for himself, focused on himself yet making the same motions as all the others. In this situation of uniform egocentricity, the sense of guilt does not play the role it once did; the tribunals still operate, but they are fascinated exclusively by the past; they see only the core of the century; they see only the generations that are old or dead. — Milan Kundera

Leif's frown eased and he slid his finger under my chin and gently caressed my jaw line with the pad of his thumb.
"Pagan,will you do me the honor of being my date for Homecoming Dance?The prospect of not being able to hold you in my arms all night is heartbreaking."
Mirand sighed from across the table.
"Okay,that was beautiful.Why didn't you ask me like that?"she asked Wyatt.
Wyatt shot Leif an annoyed frown.
"Thanks,buddy.Next time you decide to break out your romantic side,could you do it alone? — Abbi Glines

There's something about being in the country that makes you stick out like a sore thumb ? you're an anomaly. But in London there's always someone wilder and woollier. — Cornelia Parker

It is a good rule of thumb for spiritual directors to ask themselves, What truly constitutes our spiritual concern here? Am I really being attentive to the Lord in this? What things are getting in the way of our simple, humble intention towards the working of the Holy Spirit in this person's life? All human experience can be said to be spiritual in the largest sense, but spiritual direction should deal primarily with those qualities that seem most clearly and specifically spiritual, those that reveal the presence or leadings of God, or evidence of grace, working most directly in a person's life. This becomes increasingly important as spiritual direction progresses over time with any given individual. In the course of spiritual maturation, concern with superficial psychological experience must give way to a much more basic concern for the discernment of good and evil. — Gerald G. May

What's your name?" he asked above the roar of the music.
She leaned close. "My name is Wind," she whispered. "And Rain. And Bone and Dust. My name is a snippet of a half-remembered song."
He chuckled a low, delightful sound. She was drunk and silly, and so full of the glory of being young and alive and in the capital of the world that she could hardly contain herself.
"I have no name," she purred. "I am whoever the keepers of my fate tell me to be."
He grasped her by her wrist, running a thumb along the sensitive sknin underneath. "Then let me call you Mine for a dance or two. — Sarah J. Maas

But there was a cost. Being near Ethan was just ... incendiary. Part animosity, part ridiculous chemistry, neither conducive to a peaceful home environment. And this was only my first night under his thumb. Not a good sign of things to come. — Chloe Neill

He steps over to me and takes the empty bowl from my hand, setting it on the desk. Grasping my chin, he pulls my face up so I'll look at him. His thumb brushes across my bottom lip, and he's quiet for a minute before whispering, "Only a fool would be bothered by being with you. — J.M. Darhower

Our host drifted away, and Vidia and I continued chatting about this and that. Swift judgments came down. The simplicity in Hemingway was "bogus" and nothing, Vidia said, like his own. Things Fall Apart was a fine book, but Achebe's refusal to write about his decades in America was disappointing. Heart of Darkness was good, but structurally a failure. I asked him about the biography by Patrick French, The World Is What It Is, which he had authorized. He stiffened. That book, which was extraordinarily well written, was also shocking in the extent to which it revealed a nasty, petty, and insecure man. "One gives away so much in trust," Vidia said. "One expects a certain discretion. It's painful, it's painful. But that's quite all right. Others will be written. The record will be corrected." He sounded like a boy being brave after gashing his thumb. The — Teju Cole

I think a good rule of thumb for being true to your own convictions is this; don't do or champion anything in the name of a group that you wouldn't do or champion as an individual - for if you do so, you become a chameleon that fades into the colours of group think, and you compromise the autonomy of individuation. — James Knight - The Philosophical Muser

What I hate is the thought of being under a man's thumb," I had told Doctor Nolan. "A man doesn't have a worry in the world, while I've got a baby hanging over my head like a big stick, to keep me in line. — Sylvia Plath

On an evening in the latter part of May a middle-aged man was walking homeward from Shaston to the village of Marlott, in the adjoining Vale of Blakemore, or Blackmoor. The pair of legs that carried him were rickety, and there was a bias in his gait which inclined him somewhat to the left of a straight line. He occasionally gave a smart nod, as if in confirmation of some opinion, though he was not thinking of anything in particular. An empty egg-basket was slung upon his arm, the nap of his hat was ruffled, a patch being quite worn away at its brim where his thumb came in taking it off. Presently he was met by an elderly parson astride on a gray mare, who, as he rode, hummed a wandering tune. — Thomas Hardy

Left my homework at home." I jerked a thumb over my shoulder. "Funny, it being homework
you'd think home would be where it's supposed to be but no, I need it at school, but you can't call it
schoolwork because that's just stuff you do at school but it really is schoolwork you do at home and
then bring it back so you could call it school-home-school work but either way it's not here and I
need to get it from home and get it to school so home is where I need to go now." I took a breath.
"Bye. — A&E Kirk

She didn't have any intention of crying. The tears caught her by surprise. She knew she was behaving like a child, that she was being terribly foolish and emotional, but she didn't know how to stop herself.
"Judith?" His thumb brushed away one of the tears on her cheek. "Tell me why you're crying."
"There weren't any flowers. Iain, there should have been flowers."
Her voice had been so soft, he wasn't certain he understood her. "Flowers?" he asked.
"Where weren't there any flowers?"
He waited for her to explain, but she stubbornly remained silent. He squeezed her.
"In the chapel."
"What chapel?"
"The one you don't have," she answered. — Julie Garwood

I don't deny that impulse drew us together, but while physical gratification began and ended it for you, in making love, dumbo here - - ' she jerked a thumb at her chest ' - was also demonstrating that she cared.'
His tongue moistened his lips. 'You're very up-front, aren't you?'
'You mean none of your other rejects have ever looked you in the eye and complained?' Sian queried. She might have made things easy last night, but she refused to make anything easy for him now. 'I suppose you'd prefer it if I shrugged my shoulders, muttered something about it being nice while it lasted, and filed the experience away under lessons learned? Well, sorry, but for me, and for most women if they're honest, going to bed with someone is a darn sight more complicated than that! — Elizabeth Oldfield

Cupping her face, I brushed her lips with my thumb. "You're medicine for my soul, Bailey. Never forget that."
Her naughty gaze shifted into something softer. "Thank you for being brave enough to love me."
Despite her earnest expression, I laughed. "Like I had a choice. — Bijou Hunter

Now, darlin', I just had myself a little thought."
"Did you?" I murmured, distracted by the way he reached up to run his thumb over my bottom lip.
"I did indeed. It being that you are seventeen and I'm eighteen, and we have every damn right to make out like teenagers. Like normal, happy, crazy kids. — Alexandra Bracken

He sat on the edge of my bed. He didn't say anything at first, just stared at my toenails. I curled them under instinctively and immediately was worried that I'd messed up my painting job. I let them uncurl. Only one was marred. I used my thumb to rub most of the polish off of it and then I stared at my foot, which suddenly looked so vulnerable and imperfect with the one toe ringed in hot pink polish but bare on the inside of the nail. Like I'd started but had forgotten to finish being beautiful. — Jennifer Brown

Imagine the joy of that - of not being beneath that big thumb. Imagine no longer being a beetle, but being a man. — Victor Robert Lee

A pen, you see, you hold it between your thumb and your index finger. No, wait, you hold it however you want. After that, it's not hard, you don't even think about it. Your hands don't exist anymore. The important thing happens elsewhere. No, this won't do, it's still too pretty. You're not being asked to come up with something pretty, you know. No one gives a damn about pretty. There are children's drawings and glossy magazines for that. So put on your mittens, little genius, little empty shell, yes, go on, put them on, I tell you, and maybe at last you'll see, you'll draw an almost perfect failed circle. — Anna Gavalda

Oh, you think it's funny being mean to Sienna on facebook?
I predict a bandaged thumb in the near future
yours. — Sienna McQuillen

Shit," Amos said. "And here I was enjoying being so absolutely thumb-up-the-ass useless." "You — James S.A. Corey

The annual celebrations of God's mercy, justice, and power, the feasts or fasts undertaken in praise of His Name, the miracles He was supposed to have thrown our way over the centuries - in my grandfather's mind, it was all nullified by the thing he had not yet learned to call the Holocaust. In Egypt, in Shushan, in the time of Judah Maccabee, God had intervened to deliver us with a mighty hand and outstretched arm; big deal. When we were sent to the ovens, God had sat with His outstretched thumb up His mighty ass and let us burn. In 1947 there was, to my grandfather, one reason to continue calling oneself a Jew, to go on being Jewish before the world: as a way of telling Hitler Fuck you. — Michael Chabon

You carry forever the fingerprint that comes from being under someone's thumb. — Nancy Banks-Smith

I used to think that pain was my body's way of telling me something was wrong. Now I think that while that is sometimes true, more often pain is some little bit of my body bitching about being asked to do something it doesn't want to, but once it figures out that I'm serious, it shuts up and delivers. My new rule of thumb is that if something hurts, unless it's debilitating, I give it five kilometers to go away. It usually does. — Paul Klipp

I wanted to curl up into a fetal position and start sucking my thumb, let my tears and dripping saliva pool under me.
Sorry. I tried living, tried being sentient. Can't do it. Can't live in the same universe with that. — David Wong

I'm not doing anything, baby. I love you. I'm being faithful to you." He held up his ring, his thumb stroking the metal. "I promised ... I promise — S.C. Stephens

I have a rule of thumb that allows me to judge, when times is pressing and one needs to make a snap judgment, whether or not some sexist bullshit is afoot. Obviously, it's not 100% infallible but by and large it definitely points you in the right direction and it's asking this question; are the men doing it? Are the men worrying about this as well? Is this taking up the men's time? Are the men told not to do this, as it's letting the side down? Are the men having to write bloody books about this exasperating retarded, time-wasting, bullshit? Is this making Jeremy Clarkson feel insecure?
Almost always the answer is no. The boys are not being told they have to be a certain way, they are just getting on with stuff. — Caitlin Moran

For the average person, taken to their sick bed, it takes a serious bout of pneumonia or a full body cast to completely forget the life they had prior to falling off the rollercoaster. I, however, will do this over a paper cut on my thumb, obsessing of said cut and being generally consumed by it. — Sloane Crosley

I don't like being under someone elses thumb. I'm very supportive of other female artists, especially those trying to make their own statement ... trying to do what they want instead of being someone else's Barbie doll. — Irene Cara

You're looking for sexual tidbits as a female child, and the only ones that present themselves depict child rape or other violations (all my favorite books in my preteen years: I Know Why the Caged Bird Sings, Clan of the Cave Bear, The World According to Garp, as well as the few R-rated movies I was allowed to see - Fame, most notably, with its indelible scene of Irene Cara being asked to take her shirt off and suck her thumb by a skeezy photographer who promises to make her a star), then your sexuality will form around that fact. There is no control group. I don't even want to talk about "female sexuality" until there is a control group. And there never will be. — Maggie Nelson

These are modern times, nicht? Not our grandmother's days. There's more to life than finding some lord and master and being under his thumb. I swear I'll never live in such a prison! — Phyllis Edgerly Ring

In the act of writing he experiences, today, an exceptional sensual pleasure
in the feel of the pen, snug in the crook of his thumb, but even more in the feel of his hand being tugged back lightly from its course across the page by the strict, unvarying shape of the letters, the discipline of the alphabet. — J.M. Coetzee

There's a rule of thumb in politics. If you're at a point where you're complaining about the other guy being mean and unfair and uncivil, that's probably a sign that you're losing. — Laura Ingraham

The Adventure called and I followed with my thumb like a character being written by an intractable author. Which, of course, I was. — Sol Luckman

Riches ... don't consist in having things, but in not having to do something you don't want to do ... Riches is being able to thumb your nose. — Josephine Tey

You can't tell me anything about family life. I've had plenty to last me.' 'But it's not all like that,' I objected. 'Near enough. It's all being under somebody's thumb. — Willa Cather