Quotes & Sayings About Feeling Not Needed

My new single 'I'm Gonna show you crazy' is really about knowing it's okay to not be okay. It's not about being legit crazy it's about feeling like you're an outsider and there's nothing wrong with that. I was bitter during that time in my life but I needed that. It helped shaped me and my music. Going through a hard time makes you a better person. Going through hell those two years was worth it. — Bebe

Fire shot through my body at his touch. The scent of his skin caused my brain to short circuit. I knew I was only feeling that way because I'd been missing Kyle. This was the longest we'd been apart. Nearly a week and we'd been so busy we hadn't had a chance to really talk. That's what this was-I missed Kyle. I needed to remind myself not to mistake the pull I felt toward Tristan as anything other than my yearning for Kyle. — Adriane Leigh

Okay," Jack said. "I'm not really sure what you want from me." "I want you to stop trying to deny every feeling I ever have, Jack. I want you to stop telling me not to feel bad when I already do. I want you to stop telling me I look fine when it's so patently obvious that I don't. I want you to stop being so uncomfortable when things aren't perfect that you immediately start trying to pretend they are." Even as the words were coming out of my mouth, I realized how unfair I was being. Yes, I wanted for him to accept my emotional reality. But only when it suited me. I also wanted him to tell me that the baby would be fine when it was what I needed to hear. At least Jack was consistent. I was a nut job. — Jennifer Coburn

I've been looking for answers all of my life. Yes I realize now these are not what I needed. No, in fact, all I need is what I've decided on, in my heart to believe. In all the crossing confusion and haste of numerous opinion and stance, my own opinion has become my own boat from where I observe the raging opinions of the sea, relaxed, drinking my lemonade and feeling very amused by it all. — Stefanie Schneider

She closed her eyes briefly, feeling sick. Olivia had experienced strangulation before. Having to look directly into the face of the person who was killing you made the experience beyond awful. But there were worse things than that. Staring into the void of unresolved memory, living an eternal mystery, waking up night after night seeing the face of someone you desperately wanted to save but having not the slightest clue how to do it - all that was worse. If going through with this experience gave her the answers she needed, if it gave her peace, it would be well worth one-hundred-and-thirty seconds of fear and pain. — Leslie Parrish

For it is not light that is needed, but fire; it is not the gentle shower, but thunder. We need the storm, the whirlwind, and the earthquake. The feeling in the nation must be quickened, the conscience of the nation must be roused, the propriety of the nation must be startled, the hypocrisy of the nation must be exposed: and its crimes against God and man must be denounced. — Frederick Douglass

Always in the dream, it seemed as if there were a destination: a something
he could not grasp what-that lay beyond the place where the thickness of snow brought the sled to a stop. He was left, upon awakening, with the feeling that he wanted, even somehow needed, to reach the something that waited in the distance. The feeling that it was good. That it was welcoming. That it was significant. But he did not know how to get there. — Lois Lowry

He said, "A new commandment I give you, that you love one another, even as I have loved you." And how had he loved them? Not by feeling emotional! But He washed their feet anyway, because love does not do what it feels, it does what is needed. — Nick Harrison

There was nothing passionate, nothing lustful, nothing desperate about that kiss, just the sweet and delicate feeling of comfort while having someone there. Someone to hold while being held. Someone who wanted you. Someone who needed you. Someone who looked at you through eyes without judgment, and who knew your past but did not define you by it. Who understood that you'd been through something horrible but did not reat you like you were made of glass. — L. Stoddard Hancock

bought a pristine copy of Man on the Run, a biography of Paul McCartney that began not with the Beatles, but with what McCartney did after they broke up. Parker had always preferred McCartney's work to John Lennon's, whatever effect it might have had on his standing with the cool kids. Lennon could only ever really write about himself, and Parker felt that he lacked empathy. McCartney, by contrast, was capable of thinking, or feeling, himself into the lives of others. It was the difference between "Strawberry Fields Forever" and "Penny Lane": although Parker loved both songs, "Penny Lane" was filled with characters, while "Strawberry Fields Forever" really had only one, and his name was John Lennon. Parker might even have taken the view that Lennon needed to get out of his apartment more, but when he did, an idiot shot him. He'd probably been right to spend the best part of a decade locked inside. Ross appeared just as McCartney — John Connolly

One of the things we haven't taught our people as a nation, that this is their country. We haven't told them that this Bahamas belongs to them. Whether it succeeds or fails it is entirely up to them. WE haven't told our people that they are valuable. I sometimes pass little boys playing in the road and I would stop my car and say to them: 'Excuse me baby, do you realize how valuable you are? Do not play in the road, if anything happen to you that is going to hurt us. Because you might be our Prime Minister one day. Iris Adderley, consultant in the Disability Affairs Devision of The Department of Social Services. — Drexel Deal

After a few short years (fifteen, to be exact - brief by his count, interminable by hers), surrounded by all this vegetative rampancy, she was feeling increasingly unsure of herself. She missed the built environment of New York City. It was only in an urban landscape, amid straight lines and architecture, that she could situate herself in human time and history. As a novelist she needed this. She missed people. She missed human intrigue, drama and power struggles. She needed her own species, not to talk to, necessarily, but just to be among, as a bystander in a crowd or an anonymous witness.
But here, on the sparsely populated island, human culture barely existed and then only as the
thinnest veneer. — Ruth Ozeki

Reaching up, he began using the exercise bar to do chin-ups. The repetitive act helped focus his mind as it multitasked. One thing was certain - he refused to never again experience the intimacy of being with Brenna. It wasn't the sex, though that had been the most amazing experience of his life. It was the way he'd made her laugh, made her smile, made her complain and then cuddle. All because she'd felt safe, reassured by the strength of their emotional connection.
He would not steal that feeling from her. And he most definitely was not going to surrender her to another male who could give her what she needed. The idea made him want to break something. — Nalini Singh

Lora followed his eyes to the subject of their conversation. He was such a masculine man, tall and strong and sure of himself, cocky almost. A male chauvinist to his toenails, she suspected, as incapable of admitting to feeling hurt and lonely and afraid as a pig was of flying. But he was vulnerable too, enormously vulnerable. More than many people who openly asked for it, he needed love. He needed someone to hold him in her arms and convince him that what he had done was not so bad, was not unforgivable, did not put him beyond the pale of normal society. To convince him that he was lovable. And loved. And she meant to be that someone. — Karen Robards

And suddenly, I feel like crying, but not in a bad way. More like in the way you feel when someone gives you a perfect present - something you'd been wanting, but thought you couldn't ask for. It's that feeling of someone knowing you in all the ways you needed to be known. — Becky Albertalli

A totally new kind of education is needed in the world. The person who is born to be a poet is proving himself stupid in mathematics and the person who could have been a great mathematician is just cramming history and feeling lost. Everything is topsy-turvy because education is not according to your nature: it does not pay any respect to the individual. It forces everybody into a certain pattern. — Osho

The process [of mass-media deception] has to be conscious, or it would not be carried out with sufficient precision, but it also has to be unconscious, or it would bring with it a feeling of falsity and hence of guilt ... To tell deliberate lies while genuinely believing in them, to forget any fact that has become inconvenient, and then, when it becomes necessary again, to draw it back from oblivion for just so long as it is needed, to deny the existence of objective reality and all the while to take account of the reality which one denies all this is indispensably necessary. — George Orwell

Only later I felt that poetry is like feeling another person lying next to you in the dark. Do you believe in poetry, in the spirit of poetry? I could see poetry in ballads, in the picture of the cathedral on the back of the postcard that my father sent my mother from London, in glaciers, peaks of mountains, river dust, Ian McEwan's covers of his books, cheap thrillers. Running gave me a gravitational pull. Running was my mother love. I was barefoot. There I was dressed in white. Matchstick legs. Hair standing up. I did not feel like a zero. I did not feel like a lost oar, unloved and unwanted, like a plant that needed water. A fleet of paper ships that needed to be mourned. I often felt homesick for the country of my mother. — Abigail George

A few minutes?" Feeling suddenly shy, she crossed her arms over her chest. The smile on his face widened, becoming touched with the feral wildness of the cat. It made thinking difficult. "I believed males needed a longer recovery time to mate."
"Not this kitty cat." Rising to his feet, he said, "Get ready to play. — Nalini Singh

You know that excuse... it's not you it's me? I say that a lot, when I break up with someone, but I don't really mean it when I do. I'm not the reason my relationships end but neither are the women. It's not me and it's not them--it's that we never had a we. There was no us. It's hard to say what makes two people have that, because it's something you can't put into words. It's a feeling, I know it's only a movie, but I want the feeling that Lloyd had. He didn't just want Diane, he needed her, so he did everything in his power to get her back. — Karyn Bosnak

He did not smile at his employees, he did not take them out for drinks, he never inquired about their families, their love lives or their church attendance. He responded only to the essence of a man: to his creative capacity. In this office one had to be competent. There were no alternatives, no mitigating considerations. But if a man worked well, he needed nothing else to win his employer's benevolence: it was granted, not as a gift, but as a debt. It was granted, not as affection, but as recognition. It bred an immense feeling of self-respect within every man in that office. — Ayn Rand

He is not a challenge, he is not a conquest. You were once that for him, back when he used to call you a little beast and defeated you handily, time and again. You got the feeling over time and then again that he didn't want to win, when he sparred with you. That was the motivation you needed. The opportunity presented itself; his weakness presented itself. You took it, you beat him, you got better, you stayed neck and neck. Just stay strong, was the first directive. Get stronger, was the next. Don't die, was the final, and that is where you remain. Daunting, to excel at a game that you must eventually lose. Unless you really are an angel. Unless he really is already a ghost. — Vee Hoffman

My, my, it's a surprise to see Mr. Braddock here," Mr. Kent said, a hint of acrimony lacing his voice. "Yes, it is." He leaned in confidentially. "Perhaps he's come to apologize. Or maybe that also needs to be done in his bedroom."

I strained to keep a whisper. "You know very well why I was in his bedroom! He was injured, and I needed to check on him."

"No one is going to make an exception for that where your reputation is concerned."

"I had other concerns at the time."

He put his hand on his chest. "I'm feeling quite injured myself. Perhaps we might - "

"Mr. Kent! This is not an appropriate place for that kind of talk!"

"Very well," he said. "If you wish to speak about it somewhere much more inappropriate, just say the word. — Tarun Shanker

She yanked her hand away as if he had burned her, rubbing her palm along her thigh. The feeling didn't go away, and neither did the butterflies he had sent winging in her stomach. "How do you know you're not a vampire?" She needed to distract him, distract both of them. "Maybe you forgot. You're certainly capable of acting like one."
This time he laughed, startling both of them. The sound was husky, low, and foreign to his ears, as if he had forgotten what it was like. His black eyes leapt to her face almost in fear.
"Not bad, wild man. First a growl, and now a laugh. We're making progress." Her eyes danced at him, reassured him. — Christine Feehan

I felt tired and grainy and not able to tell how much damage had been done to me. I had a leaden feeling that it was more than I really needed. — Stephen King

Not quite understanding how, he knew what he needed to do. He didn't get it. The feeling - the epiphany - was a strange one, foreign and familiar at the same time. But it felt ... right. — James Dashner

It was me who had to carry myself over the finish line, and all I needed to remember when I felt like not trying was that that feeling wouldn't last forever. — Jennifer L. Armentrout

Mackenzie needed to know what he was feeling, he needed her to feel it too. There was an electric current between the two of them and she needed to know that it wasn't going anywhere. He wasn't going anywhere ... and neither was she. He was going to keep her, whether she fought him on it or not. — Megan Keith

It's very interesting, the joke comes first and then the wording comes within five seconds, maybe ten seconds. My thing is to get the joke across in as few words as possible. However, sometimes a word that's not really needed does help the rhythm of it. It's a gut feeling. — Steven Wright

There was no sense to life, to the structure of things. D.H. Lawrence had known that. You needed love, but not the kind of love most people used and were used up by. Old D.H. had known something. His buddy Huxley was just an intellectual fidget, but what a marvelous one. Better than G.B. Shaw with that hard keel of a mind always scraping bottom, his labored wit finally only a task, a burden on himself, preventing him from really feeling anything, his brilliant speech finally a bore, scraping the mind and the sensibilities. It was good to read them all though. It made you realize that thoughts and words could be fascinating, if finally useless. — Charles Bukowski

I'll never forget one of the first families I visited. The father was a railroad man who had lost his job. I was told by my supervisor that I really had to see the poverty. If the family needed clothing, I was to investigate how much clothing they had at hand. So I looked into this man's closet - (pauses, it becomes difficult) - he was a tall, gray-haired man, though not terribly old. He let me look in the closet - he was so insulted. (She weeps angrily.) He said, "Why are you doing this?" I remember his feeling of humiliation . . . this terrible humiliation. (She can't continue. After a pause, she resumes.) He said, "I really haven't anything to hide, but if you really must look into it. . .." I could see he was very proud. He was so deeply humiliated. And I was, too. . .. — Studs Terkel

This is one of the most serious problems with seeker-sensitive churches. I was talking to a pastor at a seeker-friendly church not long ago about his idea that prospective Christians needed to "feel welcome" and "accepted" before anything else: no "threats," no "judgmental baggage." I asked, "If you had a person living in sin come to your church, would you confront him?" He furrowed his brow and shook his head disapprovingly. "Oh, no! We'd want him to feel loved and welcome." My eyes widened. "How long would it be before you would actually say something about that?" "Maybe a year and a half, two years," he said, smiling. "Because then he would really feel a part of things." That was shocking to me. Is there some virtue in leaving a man in his sin for the sake of feeling accepted? "Well, that's the difference between your church and our church," I said finally. "Openly practicing sinners come to our church, and they either get saved or they don't come back. — John F. MacArthur Jr.

Original sin was not the apple that Eve ate, it was her belief that Adam needed to share precisely the thing she had tasted.Eve was afraid to follow her path without someone to help her and so she wanted to share what she was feeling. — Paulo Coelho

Though there was no sound, there was a change. The atmosphere, which had gone tense at my accusation, relaxed. I wondered how I knew this. I had a strange sensation that I was somehow receiving more than my five senses were giving me - almost a feeling that there was another sense, on the fringes, not quite harnessed. Intuition? That was almost the right word. As if any creature needed more than five senses. — Stephenie Meyer

The mind wants to land, to fixate, to hold a concept, but the only way you can be really free is by not fixating. That's part of true maturity, and it's one of the hardest things for spiritual people who have had true and powerful revelations to go through - to accept the degree of surrender needed to literally let go of all experience and all self-reference. Even in great revelations, there is almost always something that wants to claim, "I am this." Every time you claim, "I am this", you just claimed another sense perception, thought, emotion, or feeling. — Adyashanti

I suppose the best way to tell the story is simply to narrate it, without an effort to carry belief. The thing did not require belief. It was not a feeling of horror in one's bones, or a misty outline, or anything that needed to be given actuality by an act of faith. It was as solid as a wardrobe. You don't have to believe in wardrobes. They are there, with corners. (The Troll) — T.H. White

Will you at least have some coffee with me before you leave?" Furi pouted, immediately feeling silly for it.

"Dude. You're way too tatted up to ever make that face." Doug laughed. He bent over and pressed a kiss to Furi's forehead. "I will not have a cup of your nasty coffee. I will however, take you to breakfast and drink some real coffee with you."

Furi felt better already. He stood, wrapped his arms around Doug, and whispered, "Thank you for last night. I needed it."

"I know. Now go get dressed." Doug popped him on the shoulder. — A.E. Via

Have you ever held a gun before?" the lady whom I was meeting with asked me.
No, n,: I siad with a little nervous laugh, feeling a little underqualified for the job. "My family were staunch believers in physical violence, not automatic violence, and we had a Safeway around the corner, so we never really needed to kill anything. — Laurie Notaro

It was hard to imagine feeling that magical tingling sensation in the pit of her belly anytime soon. Best not to worry about it, she thought. She didn't need it. Well. She didn't want to need it. Yearning for love made her feel like a cat that was always twining around ankles, meowing Pet me, pet me, look at me, love me.
Better to be the cat gazing coolly down from a high wall, its expression inscrutable. The cat that shunned petting, that needed no one. Why couldn't she be that cat?
Be that cat!!! she wrote, drawing it into the corner of her page, cool and aloof. — Laini Taylor

James closed the door and turned the radio on. He didn't particularly want to listen to it but he needed the privacy it provided. Not that Hadrian seemed like he would have noticed anything happening around him that wasn't directly relevant to his cooking, but privacy was a feeling more than a real state of being. Growing up in a house where superhearing was the norm, music had been the standard way in which one made the fact that there were solid walls and doors between one and the rest of the household count for something. — Aska J. Naiman

In 1995, when Steve Jobs was trying to convince us that we should go public, one of his key arguments was that we would eventually make a film that failed at the box office, and we needed to be prepared, financially, for that day. Going public would give us the capital to fund our own projects and, thus, to have more say about where we were headed, but it would also give us a buffer that could sustain us through failure. Steve's feeling was that Pixar's survival could not depend solely on the performance of each and every movie. The underlying logic of his reasoning shook me: We were going to screw up, it was inevitable. And we didn't know when or how. We had to prepare, then, for an unknown problem - a hidden problem. From that day on, I resolved to bring as many hidden problems as possible to light, a process that would require what might seem like an uncommon commitment to self-assessment. — Ed Catmull

He auditioned with Lily, and he and Lily had incredible chemistry that sort of blazed off the scene. I'm just sitting here watching this on my computer, and you know, he was not the only person they've ever sent me to look at. I've gotten lots of headshots and this and that, and I'm watching the audition and I literally started crying because that was my Jace and Clary on the screen. And it's an incredible feeling to see that even as an audition. This is amazing. He was snarky funny where he needed to be snarky funny, and he was badass where he needed to be badass. And he and Lily were incredible together — Cassandra Clare

The feeling of being trapped, of being helpless against his strength, his lust, and what my body needed was almost overwhelming. My eyes shuttered closed at the effort of not struggling in his harsh grasp. He whispered against my face, and I could not focus enough to see him. "Do you want to ride the storm?" His breath was hot against my skin. His voice promised no gentleness, no compromise. I knew the kind of sex he was offering, and the thought of it tightened things low in my body, drew another small sound from my throat. "Yes," I whispered, "yes." The roll of thunder echoed down the hallway, shuddering between the stone walls. The sound seemed to vibrate out of his body and into mine as if my body were a tuning fork struck against the rim of some great metal cup. His voice growled against my skin, with the taste of thunder in it. "Good," he said and forced me to my knees. — Laurell K. Hamilton

Children who have learned to be comfortably dependent can become not only comfortably independent but also comfortable with having people depend on them. They can lean, stand, and be leaned upon, because they know what a good feeling it can be to feel needed. — Fred Rogers

This, I finally realized, was how Mom was able to focus when I was not. It was how she was able to be present with me, present with the people at a benefit or the hospital. She felt whatever emotions she felt, but feeling was never a useful substitute for doing, and she never let the former get in the way of the latter. If anything, she used her emotions to motivate her and help her concentrate. The emphasis for her was always on doing what needed to be done. I had to learn this lesson while she was still there to teach me. — Will Schwalbe

For many feverish years he was burdened with the sensation, an ancient one to be sure, that the incredible sprawl of human history was no more than a pathetically partial record of an infinitely vast and shadowed chronicle of universal metamorphoses. How much greater, then, was the feeling that his own pathetic history formed a practically invisible fragment of what itself was merely an obscure splinter of the infinite. Somehow he needed to excarcerate himself from the claustral dungeon cell of his life. In the end, however, he broke beneath the weight of his aspiration. And as the years passed, the only mystery which seemed worthy of his interest, and his amazement, was that unknown day which would inaugurate his personal eternity, that incredible day on which the sun simply would not rise, and forever would begin. — Thomas Ligotti

It was not the feeling of completeness I so needed, but the feeling of not being empty. — Jonathan Safran Foer

Other people spoke, and I tried to keep up with the translations. All the stories were about Dimitri's kindness and strength of character. Even when not out battling the undead, Dimitri had always been there to help those who needed it. Almost everyone could recall sometime that Dimitri had stepped up to help others, going out of his way to do what was right, even in situations that could put him at risk. That was no surprise to me. Dimitri always did the right thing.
And it was that attitude that had made me love him so much. I had a similar nature. I too rushed in when others needed me, sometimes when I shouldn't have. Others called me crazy for it, but Dimitri had understood. He'd always understood me, and part of what we'd worked on was how to temper that impulsive need to run into danger with reason and calculation. I had a feeling no one else in this world would ever understand me like he did. — Richelle Mead

Although some men who were easy with their words said that it was worth sacrificing one's life for a night of love with such an arousing woman, the truth was that no one made any effort to do so. Perhaps, not only to attain her but also to conjure away her dangers, all that was needed was a feeling as primitive and as simple as that of love, but that was the only thing that did not occur to anyone. — Gabriel Garcia Marquez

It was in that room too that I learned not to think about anything that I was writing from the time I stopped writing until I started again the next day. That way my subconscious would be working on it and at the same time I would be listening to other people and noticing everything, I hoped; learning, I hoped; and I would read so that I would not think about my work and make myself impotent to do it. Going down the stairs when you had worked well, and that needed luck as well as discipline, was a wonderful feeling and I was free then to walk anywhere in Paris. — Ernest Hemingway,