Don't Get Pushed Around Quotes & Sayings

Don't take no for an answer. Don't let yourself get pushed around, and don't be afraid to be the bad guy. Find a producer who will be there to back you up when things get difficult. Make sure you work with key crew that you trust. — Ruba Nadda

No, you don't know what it's like
When nothing feels all right
You don't know what it's like
To be like me
To be hurt
To feel lost
To be left out in the dark
To be kicked when you're down
To feel like you've been pushed around
To be on the edge of breaking down
And no one's there to save you
No, you don't know what it's like
Welcome to my life — Simple Plan

Mom says each of us has a veil between ourselves and the rest of the world, like a bride wears on her wedding day, except this kind of veil is invisible. We walk around happily with these invisible veils hanging down over our faces. The world is kind of blurry, and we like it that way. But sometimes our veils are pushed away for a few moments, like there's a wind blowing it from our faces. And when the veil lifts, we can see the world as it really is, just for those few seconds before it settles down again. We see all the beauty, and cruelty, and sadness, and love. But mostly we are happy not to. Some people learn to lift the veil themselves. Then they don't have to depend on the wind anymore. — Rebecca Stead

She pushed herself up, swayed, and might have tumbled if Feeney hadn't gripped her arm. "Head rush. I'm okay, just a little queasy. Lowell's in there, secured. You need to haul his ass in. Your collar."
"No, it's not." Feeney gave her arm a squeeze. "But I'll haul his ass in for you. McNab, help the lieutenant upstairs, then get your butt back down here and start on the electronics."
"I don't need help," Eve protested.
"You fall on your face," Feeney murmured in her ear, "you'll ruin your exit."
"Yeah. Yeah."
"Just lean on me, Lieutenant." McNab wrapped an arm around her waist.
"You try to cop a feel, I can still put you down."
"Whatever your condition, Dallas, you still scare me."
"Aw." Touched, she slung an arm around his shoulders. "That's so sweet. — J.D. Robb

After a moment I pushed my chair back and went over to the french windows. I opened the screens and stepped out on to the porch. The night was all around, soft and quiet. The white moonlight was cold and clear, like the justice we dream of but don't find. — Raymond Chandler

I don't want you to be sorry. I don't want you to be anything, I snapped. Her expression was the final straw. Of course she didn't want to be around me. I was an infantil asshole that had the emotional control of a three-year-old. I shoved away from the table and pushed through the door, not stopping until I was sitting on my bike. — Jamie McGuire

If I am pushed I will push back, that is the way I am. I am very British. We don't like to be pushed around. When the chips are down we might have to step into grey areas. — Damon Hill

Hunter looked around, thinking, deciding on another plan of approach. He was well acquainted with how stubborn I could be, and I could see him weighing his chances of getting through and changing my mind.
He pushed himself off the house and stood before me. 'Tell me the instant you hear from Killian,' He said.
I tried not to show my surprise. 'Okay.'
'I don't like this.'
'I know.'
'I hate this.'
'I know.'
'Right. So call me. — Cate Tiernan

Thanks," I muttered and added under my breath, "Douchebag."
He laughed, deep and throaty. "Now that's not very ladylike, Kittycat."
I whipped around. "Don't ever call me that," I snapped.
"It's better than calling someone a douchebag, isn't it?" He pushed out the door. "This has been a stimulating visit. I'll cherish it for a long time to come."
Okay. That was it. "You know, you're right. How wrong of me to call you a douchebag. Because a douchebag is too nice of a word for you," I said, smiling sweetly. "You're a dickhead."
"A dickhead?" he repeated. "How charming."
I flipped him off. — Jennifer L. Armentrout

fear. 'Don't go inside.' He placed his hands on her shoulders. 'We've called an ambulance and the police. There's nothing more we can do.' Claire shrugged his hands from her and pushed past him. 'I am the police,' she said over her shoulder, and stepped through the front door. She looked around and heard commotion coming from above. Her eyes travelled towards the stairs as she heard a woman screaming. Then came the sound of other people running around the landing overhead. Claire closed her eyes and took a deep breath. She didn't have to see upstairs to know what had been discovered. She was about to ascend the stairs when she heard the sirens in the background, drawing closer. Just then two more people came running down — T.M.E. Walsh

Don't you think we're going to go to hell for this?" asked Lissa.
He reached out and touched her face, trailing his fingers along her cheek and neck and down to the top of her silky shirt. She breathed heavily at that touch, at the way it could be so gentle and small, yet evoke such a strong passion within her.
"For this?" He played with the shirt's edge, letting his finger just barely brush inside of it.
"No," she laughed. "For this." She gestured around the attic. "This is a church. We shouldn't be doing this kind of, um, thing up here."
"Not true," he argued. Gently, he pushed her onto her back and leaned over her. "The church is downstairs. This is just storage. God won't mind. — Richelle Mead

Change doesn't happen overnight. There's no button that's pushed to magically alter everything. Change happens little by little. Day by day. Hour by hour.
It's the ticking of a secondhand, moving painstakingly, as it makes its way around the clock. You don't realize it until it's already over, the minute gone forever, as you're thrust right into the next one, the time still ticking away, whether you want it to or not.
Before long you have a hard time remembering the world as it once was, the person you were then, too focused on the world around you instead.
A world full of promise. A world full of excitement. — J.M. Darhower

Hey, I'm sorry." He actually sounded sincere. "I was just ... " He glanced at me, and I raised my eyebrows, waiting for his explanation. He sighed. "I didn't ask for a tutor. It was sort of pushed on me." I crossed my arms over my chest, the movement making the strap of my book bag fall down my arm, and the bottom of the bag hit me in the leg. I ignored it. "Well, I didn't sign up for this either." His eyebrows shot up to his hairline. "Seriously?" "You think I don't have better things to do than sit around this place?" His face turned sheepish. "Well, no." I growled a little because his answer was idiotic. — Cambria Hebert

Ron held up his badge. Mrs Weasley let out a shriek just like Hermione's. 'I don't believe it! I don't believe it! Oh, Ron, how wonderful! A prefect! That's everyone in the family!' 'What are Fred and I, next-door neighbours?' said George indignantly, as his mother pushed him aside and flung her arms around her youngest son. — J.K. Rowling

Passengers don't like changing planes. That means waiting time, stress, running around. There's a joke that the hub principle is supposed to have been invented by cargo firms. The baggage doesn't care where and how it's pushed around. — Stelios Haji-Ioannou

Oh come on, smile. Lisa, Jack ... being bisexual is hardly a crime. Best of both worlds, isn't it?'
And Ianto pushed her away. 'No,Gwen. No, really it's bloody not. It's the worst of any world because you don't really belong anywhere, because you are never sure of yourself ot those around you. You can't trust in anyone, their motives or their intentions. And because of that, you have, in a world that likes its shiny labels, no true identity. — Gary Russell

I looked up at him. His green eyes glittered in the dark, reflecting the moonlight like a cat's. His scowl had vanished. The defiance was gone, too, replaced by a tightness around his mouth, a worry that clouded his eyes; and seeing that quicksilver change, I wanted to ...
I don't know what I wanted to do. Kick him in the shins seemed like a good option. Unfortunately, bursting into tears seemed more likely, because here lay the root of the problem, the contradiction in Derek that I couldn't seem to work out, no matter how hard I tried.
One second he was in my face, making me feel stupid and useless. The next he was like this: hovering, concerned, worried. I told myself it was just his wolf instinct, that he had to protect me whether he wanted to or not, but when he looked like this, like he'd pushed me too far and regretted it ... That look said he genuinely cared. — Kelley Armstrong

I'll take care of things." Colton grabbed my shoulders and turned me toward the hall and pushed. "Walk." "Walk where?" "Just walk." "I'm not into it, you know, that whole dominant-submissive thing? I don't get it." But I kept walking. "I don't like being ordered around. It makes me want to punch you in the face. It doesn't make me hot." "It takes nothing," Colton whispered, his breath blazing across my neck, "to make you hot, especially when it comes to me. — Rachel Van Dyken

I think this is simultaneously the most ridiculous and most serious conversation we've ever had," I said. "I don't like Jell-O and you wear stripes, and I think that is far more offensive, but I'll still marry you despite the stripes."
I pushed myself off of the couch and went to bed. As I lay there, listening to Luke moving around the kitchen, I had to cover my mouth to keep from giggling. We just had a conversation about marriage using stripes and gelatin as a cover up for the fact that we were talking about marriage. Luke proposed through Jell-O and I accepted through stripes. The idiocy of it all had me shaking with excited, silent laughter. — L.D. Davis

I'll stay away from you and you'll stay away from me. I'm already over this insignificant, puny, inconsequential attraction. I don't even remember kissing you."
They had reached the cluster of trees in front of the courtyard leading to Frances Catherine's cottage when she told him that outrageous lie.
"The hell you have forgotten," he muttered. He grabbed hold of her shoulders and forced her to turn around. Then he took hold of her chin and pushed her face up.
"What do you think you're doing?" she demanded.
"Reminding you. — Julie Garwood

When I got home, I told my dad the truth about Yazzie; I told him that he had belonged to Don and Nettie's grandson who was going into the Marine Corps, and he had given him to me because he couldn't keep him. Truth without embellishment, although one could argue that it was slightly abbreviated. My dad didn't seem to care where I'd gotten him.

"I've been thinking about getting a dog around here." My dad cooed as well as a gravely cowboy can. "He's a good boy, oh yes he is! He's a little beauty!"

What was it about babies and puppies that made everyone talk with their lips pushed out in that kissy-faced way? I left Yazzie in my dad's enthusiastic care and climbed up to my room — Amy Harmon

That's something a lot of athletes miss - a lot of them walk away too soon. They don't get everything out of their system. They have a lot of what-ifs when they're sitting around later in life. I don't have that. I got all that out of my system. I pushed it to the brink, I loved it, and when I walked away, I'd had enough. — Jimmy Connors

[Olive's] left foot was bleeding through a wide swath of bandages onto the tarp it was resting on. The bowl next to her was full of blood.
Olive looked a little pale. "I don't think I should move," she said.
"What are you doing?" Roger shut the door behind him and stood with his back to it.
"I decided I might try to eat my toes," Olive said, closing her eyes. "But now that I've started, I don't think I should move."
Roger pushed himself off the wall and knelt down next to her. He unbuckled her silver belt and reached with it under her dress. He looped the belt around the top of her leg and tightened it. His hands were not shaking.
"Sit on the loose end," he said, pushing it under her. "I hope that works."
"You brought flowers," she said, blinking.
"Olive," he said. "You cut off your toes."
She looked down at the bowl. "Are they still toes?" she asked. — Amelia Gray

Okay, what in Hades just happened? Stones don't glow blue or any other color and they certainly don't burn circles on you."
The stone wasn't talking.
Alexandra considered herself well grounded, yet here she stood, talking to a stone that glowed, burned circles, and refused to answer.
A thread of sensation pricked at the edges of her mind, then grew stronger. It mirrored an idea then became clear.
Tell no one.
What? Looking from side to side, she backed against the wall. Although it felt like someone whispered in her ear, she stood there alone. The day's trauma must have pushed her over the edge, yet the sensation persisted.
Tell no one.
She froze. Her eyes darted around the room. The muscles in her legs tightened as she prepared to bolt from the room.
Alexandra swallowed and licked her lips. "Who would believe me anyway?" she whispered. — H.H. Laura

Prayerless people cut themselves off from God's prevailing power, and the frequent result is the familiar feeling of being overwhelmed, overrun, beaten down, pushed around, defeated. Surprising numbers of people are willing to settle for lives like that. Don't be one of them. Nobody has to live like that. Prayer is the key to unlocking God's prevailing power in your life. — David Jeremiah

In practice, ship and iterate means that marketing programs and PR pushes should be minimal at launch. If you are in the restaurant business, you call this a soft opening. When you push the babies out of the nest, don't give them a jetpack or even a parachute - let them fly on their own. (Note: This is a metaphor.) Invest only when they get some lift. Google's Chrome is a great example of this - it launched in 2008 with minimal fanfare and practically no marketing budget and gained terrific momentum on its own, based solely on its excellence. Later, around the time the browser pushed past seventy million users, the team decided to pour fuel on the fire and approved a marketing push (and even a TV advertising campaign). But not until the product had proven itself a winner did it get fed. — Eric Schmidt

We're a couple of ciphers who got pushed around. We don't know what happened; just that we don't like it. — Robert Ludlum

If Mitt Romney can be pushed around, intimidated, coerced, co-opted by a conservative radio talk show host in Middle America, then how is he going to stand up to the Chinese? How is he going to stand up to Putin? How is he going to stand up to North Korea if he can be pushed around by a yokel like me? I don't think Romney is realizing the doubts that this begins to raise about his leadership. — Bryan Fischer

What about you? What are you going to be?" I knew immediately I shouldn't have asked. His smile faded, and he looked down at his hands in his lap. I'd about had enough of tiptoeing around his illness. "How do you expect God to heal you if you don't even believe it?" I spoke firmly to make sure my own heart got the message as well. "I believe that you, Matthew Doyle, are going to be fine someday. So when I ask you what you want to do with your life, I ask cause I know you're going to have a life! I'm tired of all this moping around waiting to die malarkey." He raised his eyebrows and pushed himself forward in the chair. "I know what you believe, Ruby. You been saying it since the day you got here. And I ain't getting any better. You're just putting me in a position of disappointing you, and I can't hardly stand that. Don't you think I want a life?" "I don't know. Do you?" "Of course I do! — Jennifer H. Westall

Oh, God," she whispered, sliding her arms around his neck. "Nicholas ... "
He pushed her away from him. "I find I'm not in the mood,I'm not very good company right now. I kept away for as long as I could, but the amusements of Venice are not to my taste. I'll relieve you of my presence ... "
She caught his wrist, halting him. "Nicholas,I love you."
"Don't," he snapped at her, but he didn't break free. "Don't you understand? Haven't I proved it, time and time again? I'm a monster, not worthy of love, not worthy of anything at all ... "
"I love you," she said again, catching his other hand, pulling his arms around her, pulling his tall, tension-racked body tight against hers. "I love you. — Anne Stuart

I don't like getting pushed around for being a Jew, and I don't think Christians like getting pushed around for being Christians. I think people who believe in God are sick and tired of getting pushed around, period. — Ben Stein

If I'm pushed, I'd also have to admit I don't like people with allergies. They just annoy me. There seems to be something far too self-centred about it. 'No thanks, I'm allergic.' Why not just say 'No thanks'? I wasn't asking for your medical history, I was just passing around the nuts. Trying to be friendly, that's all. — Jack Dee

I'm not feisty. But when you're as small as I am and female if you don't stand up for your rights, you're sure to be pushed around by big, hairy, smelly men with delusions about male superiority. — Robert A. Heinlein

Sean swung around and crossed the hall in one long stride. He pushed open the door and they moved into her bedroom, lit only by the warm glow of her bedside lamp. The next thing Evie knew, she was flat on her back on her king-size bed with a fierce-eyed warrior braced over her. "Your're not wearing any underwear, are you?"

She giggled. "There's only one way to find out for sure."

"Don't have to ask me twice." He pushed the hem of her dress up her thighs. Instant heat rushed to her sex. It was those damn hands of his, their size and power and gentleness. They made her melt just by landing on her body. — Jennifer Bernard

And you're about to pay for that, baby." Furi spun Syn around and pushed his chest against the door. "Furious," Syn groaned when he felt his sweater being roughly yanked over his head. Furi's hand pressed hard into the center of his back, keeping him pinned against the front door. "Yes, punish me." Syn froze when Furi's assault on his body stopped immediately after he said that. Oh no. Furi's hair was brushing against Syn's face as he leaned in to whisper in his ear, "You ever been handcuffed, Sergeant? Restrained." Syn shivered, his cock leaking in his tight jeans. "Oh fuck." "Don't — A.E. Via

Exactly." Taking his time, he rose, pulled her to her feet. "You're really stuck on me, aren't you?"
"Stuck?" Her mouth would have fallen open if she hadn't been so busy sneering. "Please. You'll
embarrass yourself."
"Crazy about me." He slipped his arms around her, chuckling when she pushed against his chest
and arched away. "I saw you today, more than once, standing at the window looking at me."
"I don't know what you're talking about. I might have looked out the window."
"Looking at me," he continued, slowly drawing her against him. "The way I was looking at you.
Wanting me." He nuzzled gently at her neck. "The way I was wanting you. And more." His lips
brushed her cheek as she turned her head away. "There's more than the wanting between us. — Nora Roberts

Bluefur pushed herself forward, springing onto the first stone. Water splashed and gurgled around her. The blood roared in her ears. Stupid Goosefeather! She leaped to the next stone, swaying for a heart-stopping moment before she found her balance and gathered her haunches to jump again. Stupid prophecy! And again. It's probably not even true. The final stone wobbled as she landed, and water washed over her paws. Don't let me drown! She flung herself to the shore, panting. — Erin Hunter

I whispered into his ear, "Erik ... "
There was no response from him.
"Erik." My voice was a little bit firmer.
I pushed at his shoulders making sure that my hands were well away from his re-opened wound. He weighed more than I did. I couldn't get out from under him. God, I'm stuck inside of him ... like a dog.
"Erik."
I tried to wriggle out from under him. I grew hard. I stilled horrified as my body took pleasure in this situation. I tried to shift his leg over. I thrust into him. Oh ... I thrust again. I was hovering around the panic state but lust was driving all thoughts out of my mind. The more I struggled to free myself ... I fucked him.
I screwed an unconscious man. What kind of man was I? I couldn't stop. The thwap, thwap sound of me burying my full length inside him hammered at my head.
Don't do this ... don't do ... nnnngghgghhh. I came deep within him. — Derekica Snake