He's Embarrassed Of Me Quotes & Sayings

I began to think about God. I mean, the notion of a Supreme Being existing somewhere began to creep into my private thoughts. Not because I wanted to strike Him on the face, to punch Him out for what He was about to do to me - to Jenny, that is. No, the kind of religious thoughts I had were just the opposite. Like, when I woke up in the morning and Jenny was there. Still there. I'm sorry, embarrassed even, but I hoped there was a God I could say thank you to. — Erich Segal

The last thing I want my child to see is Dad running around in the middle of the pack. That would really upset me. And that would upset him. I would be embarrassed to take him to school with kids saying, 'Hey, how'd your dad do this weekend?' 'Well, he finished fifth or sixth'. — Dan Wheldon

And then . . . we're going to get in my car."
I waited for him to elaborate on a destination. "And?"
He gently kissed the nape of my neck. "What do you think?"
I couldn't help a small gasp of delight. "Oh, wow."
"I know, right? I was racking my brain for the best present ever, and then I realized that nothing was going to rock your world more than you and me in your favorite place in the entire world."
I swallowed. "I'm kind of embarrassed at how excited I am about that." Never had I guessed my love of cars would play a role in my sex life. Eddie was right. Something had happened to me.
"It's okay, Sage. We've all got our turn-ons."
"You kind of ruined the surprise, though."
"Nah. It's part of the gift: you getting to think about it for the next three days. — Richelle Mead

I often thought: why do I not succeed in everything? I asked my instructor, and got the answer that brought more confidence in me. "Don't be embarrassed, Valya," he tried to persuade me, "You are trying to accomplish a science which is new for you, the science of being a pilot, and it is not as simple as it may look from the ground. — Valentina Tereshkova

Why are you thinking about the common man? Bankson asked me the second night. What does he have to do with the nexus of thought & change? He turns his nose up at democracy. When I tried to explain that my grandmother was my imagined audience for Children of the KK, I think he was embarrassed for me. These conversations with B keep coming back. Perhaps because Fen doesn't enjoy talking about work with me anymore. I feel him withholding, as if he thinks I'll use his ideas in my next book if he says them out loud. — Lily King

But you didn't mention Orrigar I, the first king of the House of Chaldarina. He put an end to years of unrest and civil strife. Neither did you mention Ronnick II, the one who reformed the monetary system and forbade the Great Houses to mint their own coins, thus stabilizing our currency. At the time it saved Ximerion from going bankrupt."
"I'm sorry. I told you we weren't big - "
"It's not that, Hemarchidas. You remembered the fighting kings, those who brought war, destruction and ephemeral glory. Or those who ended tragically. You forgot the wise administrators, those who kept the peace, those who brought prosperity. You needn't feel embarrassed, though. So did history."
Hemarchidas looked at his friend as if he saw him for the first time.
"So, all in all, Hemarchidas, I'd rather history forgot me. — Andrew Ashling

I stop dead in my tracks when I see Nash leaning against the wall right outside the ladies' room. His legs are crossed casually at the ankle, as his arms are crossed casually over his chest. His smile is faint. And sad.
Finally, he straightens and steps toward me. He doesn't stop until he is mere inches from me, forcing me to tilt my face up just to maintain eye contact.
He brushes his thumb over the ridge of my cheekbone at the corner of my eye. I wonder briefly if I missed a streak of mascara.
"I'm so sorry," he whispers, closing his eyes as if in pain. His face is etched with regret and it tugs at my heart.
"Don't be. You can't control other people. I just hope I haven't embarrassed you too badly, or ruined any important business connections you were hoping to make."
"I don't care about business connections. Not at this cost. — M. Leighton

As I told you, I'm not the settlement midwife. I've not birthed one baby." "But you are an herbalist." "I suppose I am. The woods and Ma Horn have been my teachers since I was a girl." She looked away from him, embarrassed. Here she was, considering him a quack, and he was unraveling her own lack of expertise fast as a spool of thread. "I'm finding the settlers here a superstitious lot. I dinna doubt you are much the same." She sat up straighter. "What do you mean?" "Axes under the bed tae cut the pain of childbirth. Garlic charms and spells. Boiling beaver tails tae cure snakebite. No' tae mention the misuse of useful herbs." Her own face clouded. "I do none of those things." He looked doubtful. "Prove it." "How do you expect me to do that?" His steely eyes held a challenge. "Work alongside me. — Laura Frantz

He pulled up a chair and sat down by the bed, smiling at me. It was a nice smile. "So you're a werewolf." He nodded. "How did it happen?" He stared down at the floor, then up. His face looked so solemn, I was sorry I'd asked. I was expecting some great tale of a savage attack survived. "I got a bad batch of lycanthropy serum." "You what?" "You heard me." He seemed embarrassed. "You got a bad shot?" "Yes." My smile got wider and wider. "It's not funny," he said. I shook my head. "Not at all." I knew my eyes were shiny, and it was all I could do not to laugh out loud. "You've got to admit it's nicely ironic." He sighed. "You're going to hurt yourself. Go ahead and laugh." I did. I laughed until it hurt, and Richard joined in. Laughter is contagious, too. — Laurell K. Hamilton

Yeah, I worry what will happen when we stop running. When we go back to school. When she meets other boys. Boys who don't argue and snap at her. Boys who don't obsessively worry about her. Boys that could take her to a movie and stay right until the end, not have to leave halfway through because he started turning into a wolf. But she wouldn't pick up some random guy in the mall. Ever.
So why was I over-reacting? I don't know. I saw the guy and something ignited in my brain, a flash-fire that burned away reason and common sense. If Simon hadn't stopped me, I'd have made an idiot of myself and called attention to us. Worse, I'd have embarrassed Chloe. I was over-protective enough as it was. Frothing at the mouth because a guy talked to her? Really not going help us get to that next anniversary. — Kelley Armstrong

What good would it do to get everything you want and lose you, the real you? What could you ever trade your soul for? If any of you are embarrassed over me and the way I'm leading you when you get around your fickle and unfocused friends, know that you'll be an even greater embarrassment to the Son of Man when he arrives in all the splendor of God, his Father, with an army of the holy angels. — Eugene H. Peterson

No, but I am,' Elliot says, quick as a flash. 'That's why I need Penny's help.' 'Oh.' Dad frowns and scratches his head. He doesn't look convinced at all. 'Well, when you've sorted your French crisis, come down and have some breakfast. I'm making eggs over easy,' he says in an American accent, 'and we need to talk about New York.' 'Will do,' I call over my shoulder as Elliot and I race up the second flight of stairs. As soon as we're in my room, I shut the door tight. 'Why didn't you tell me?' Elliot says. 'I was too embarrassed.' I sink down on to — Zoe Sugg

What? You seriously don't believe me? " He pulled halfheartedly at his shirt so she could catch a glimpse of a perfectly flat, washboard stomach. "Want to give it a fist tap? It's solid."
"No! No. And no!!" She gasped. "Oh. My. God! Keep that shirt down. OHMYGOD." She choked out an embarrassed sounding laugh. — Anne Eliot

What's your deal?" I asked in the hallway after class. "I know you did that."
He shrugged. "So?"
... "That was rude, Daemon. You embarrassed him." ... "And I thought using your ... stuff would draw them here?"
... "That was barley a blip on the map. That didn't even leave a trace on anyone."
He lowered his head until the edges of his dark curled brushed my cheek. I was caught between wanting to crawl into my locker or crawl into him. "Besides, I was doing you a favor."
I laughed. "And how was that doing me a favor?"
... "Studying math wasn't what he had in mind."
That was debatable, but I decided to play along ... "And what if that's the case?"
"You like Simon?" His chin jerked up, anger flashing in his emerald eyes. "You can't possibly like him."
... "Are you jealous? ... Your jealous of Simon?" I lowered my voice. "Of a human? For shame, Daemon. — Jennifer L. Armentrout

Because I have nothing else to live for. You told me of your brother's betrayal. Imagine your own father calling out his hounds to kill your infant daughter and husband. Imagine what it was like to watch them die and then be taken and punished for something you didn't do. To be stripped of your dignity and emotions because your father was embarrassed by a stupid, insignificant dream he'd had and he blamed everyone who walks in the dreams for it. You feel your pain, Aiden. I feel mine. (Leta) — Sherrilyn Kenyon

Poseidon held out his arms and gave me a hug. I realized, a little embarrassed, that I'd never actually hugged my dad before. He was warm - like a regular human - and he smelled of a salty beach and fresh sea air. — Rick Riordan

I think it's obvious if you're wanted here or not."
"Daemon," hissed Dee, her cheeks red. She turned to me, tears in her eyes. "He's not being serious."
"Are you being serious, Daemon?" Ash turned in his lap, head cocked to the side.
My heart was already pounding in my chest when his eyes met mine. His were sheltered. "Actually I was being serious." He leaned over the table, staring up at me through thick lashes. "You're not wanted here."
Dee spoke again, but I was beyond hearing. My face felt like it was on fire. People around us were starting to stare. One of the Thompson boys was smirking while the other looked as though he wanted to crawl underneath the table for me. The rest of the kids at the table were staring at their plates. One of them snickered.
I'd never been more humiliated in my life. — Jennifer L. Armentrout

I love quick," Gina said. "And come on, I'm getting jealous here. Was it zero sex last year for you,
too?"
"Yes," he admitted. "I love you, you weren't there - what was I going to do?"
"Are you actually embarrassed, " she asked, "because you weren't some kind of man-ho and - "
"No," Max said. "I'm embarrassed that it took me an entire fucking year and a half and the worst scare
of my life to figure out that I can't live without you. — Suzanne Brockmann

He was lounging in a cubicle beside an outdated computer, hands shoved into the pockets of his faded jeans. A wavy lock of hair covered his forehead, brushing against thick lashes. His lips curled into a half smile. "I was wondering if you were ever going to find me." He made no move to clear up any space in the tiny 6x6 hole.
I dropped my bag outside the walls and hopped up on the desk opposite him. "Embarrassed someone would see you and think you're capable of reading?"
"I do have a reputation to maintain."
"And what a lovely reputation that is."
He stretched out his legs so that his feet were under mine. "So what did you want to talk about" - his voice lowered to a deep, sexy whisper - "in private?"
I shivered - and it had nothing to do with the temperature. "Not what you're hoping."
Daemon gave me a sexy smirk. — Jennifer L. Armentrout

Wait a second," Four says. I turn toward him, wondering which version of Four I'll see now-the one who scolds me, or the one who climbs Ferris wheels with me. He smiles a little, but the smile doesn't spread to his eyes, which look less tense and worried.
"You belong here, you know that?" he says. "You belong with us. It'll be over soon, so just hold on, okay?"
He scratches behind his ear and looks away, like he's embarrassed by what he said.
I stare at him. I feel my heartbeat everywhere, even in my toes. I feel like doing something bold, but I could just as easily walk away. I am not sure which option is smarter, or better. I am not sure that I care.
I reach out and take his hand. His fingers slide between mine. I can't breathe.
I stare up at him, and he stares down at me. For a long moment, we stay that way. Then I pull my hand away and run after Uriah and Lynn and Marlene. Maybe now he thinks I'm stupid, or strange. Maybe it was worth it. — Veronica Roth

I moved quickly, putting myself between the two of them. "Stop it!" I shouted. "I have way too much to worry about right now to also have to pull you two off each other. Jeesh, talk about immature." Both guys kept glaring at each other over my head. "I said, stop it!" And I smacked their chests. That made them blink and shift their attention to me. Now it was my turn to do the glaring. "You know, you two are ridiculous with your puffing up and your testosterone and crap. I mean, I could summon the elements and kick both of your butts."
Heath shuffled his feet and looked embarrassed. Then he grinned at me, like a cute little boy whose mommy had just yelled at him. "Sorry, Zo. I forget you have some major mojo going on. — Kristin Cast

You would be purely ornamental," Evie replied, giggling.
"Ah, well, I suppose there's some value in that. God help me if I should ever lose my looks."
"I wouldn't mind."
He gave her a quizzical smile. "What?"
"If ... " Evie paused, suddenly embarrassed. "If anything happened to your looks ... if you became ... less handsome. Your appearance wouldn't matter to me. I would still ... " She paused and finished hesitantly, " ... want you as my husband." Sebastian's smile faded slowly. He gave her a long, intent stare, her wrist still clasped in his hand. Something strange crossed his expression ... an undefinable emotion wrought of heat and vulnerability. — Lisa Kleypas

You are embarrassed." She leaned over to kiss him, and while he was distracted, snatched
the disc. "That's cute. Really cute."
"Shut up. Give me that."
"I don't think so." Delighted, she danced back a step and held the disc out of reach. "I bet
this is very hot. Aren't you curious?"
"No." He made a grab, but she was very quick. "Eve, give me the damn thing."
"This is fascinating." She edged back toward the open patio doors. "The sophisticated,seen-it-all Roarke is blushing. — J.D. Robb

He had set up a telescope on a corner of the roof, and we went up to take a look.
This is time travel, he said, narrowing an eye to set the lens. Because the light is old. We're seeing back in time.
No, we said, wrinkling our noses. We are seeing right now, today.
No, he said, the light has to travel to us and it takes millions of years. What you're seeing is time.
Excuse me, we said. We were embarrassed to correct him. He seemed so smart. What we're seeing is space.
It's space, yes, he said. It's also time. You're seeing what has already happened. — Aimee Bender

When he died, I went about like a ragged crow telling strangers, "My father died, my father died." My indiscretion embarrassed me, but I could not help it. Without my father on his Delhi rooftop, why was I here? Without him there, why should I go back? Without that ache between us, what was I made of? — Kiran Desai

You're glowing." He chuckled, taming his hair. "Forgive me for being proud instead of embarrassed. — Lisa Kessler

I'm gay." There was a long pause after my revelation, then. "Are you sure?" "Of course I'm fucking sure. Why else would I say it? I'm a nance, a poof, a queer, a shit stabber." There was an embarrassed silence. "Don't worry. It isn't catching." I struggled out of the deckchair. "You don't have to be friends with me anymore." "Sorry, Gil. I dunno what to say." He raked at his hair. "Do you fancy me then?" "No." "Why not?" "Cos you're fucking ugly. Look, Lee. Being gay doesn't mean you fancy every lad you clap eyes on. You don't fancy every lass you meet. — Gillibran Brown

When Duncan did arrive a half hour later, I hugged him and didn't let go. He seemed a little embarrassed to be receiving such a public display of affection. After all, he did try his very best to barbeque me once. But that didn't matter now. — B. Alston

There are still times when the thief I started out to be feels more authentic to me than the priest I've been for decades. To be pulled out of a slum and educated is to be an outsider forever - " He stopped talking, deeply embarrassed. Giuliani could never understand the price scholarship boys paid for their education: the inevitable alienation from your uncomprehending family, from roots, from your own first person, from the original "I" you once were. — Mary Doria Russell

Take off your shirt," I said, sitting up and pulling at the hem of the garment.
"Why?" he asked, but sat up and obliged. I knelt in front of him, admiring his naked body.
"Because I want to look at you," I said. He was beautifully made, with long, graceful bones and flat muscles that flowed smoothly from the curves of chest and shoulder to the slight concavities of belly and thigh. He raised his eyebrows.
"Well then, fair's fair. Take off yours, then." He reached out and helped me squirm out of the wrinkled chemise, pushing it down over my hips. Once it was off, he held me by the waist, studying me with intense interest. I grew almost embarrassed as he looked me over.
"Haven't you ever seen a naked woman before?" I asked.
"Aye, but not one so close." His face broke into a broad grin. "And not one that's mine. — Diana Gabaldon

Myron, all six feet of super cuteness, comes forward. He smiles and I almost die, because he has one adorable dimple. Instead of getting embarrassed about his first name, he offers his hand and says, "Call me McDaniel. — Courtney Brandt

There was an Israeli artist who was in grad school with me. I remember trying to get to know him on a more personal level. He had moved to the Fairfax area, not realizing that it's a super Jewish part of L.A. He told me, I don't understand why American Jews feel this connection with me. I was embarrassed because I was feeling that connection with him, too! — Jill Soloway

So, what's the plan?" I asked as I sat down at the table not really big enough for two. Liam grabbed my bag and tossed it onto the table. "First we unpack, and then I expect to see you on your knees." After the exchange with Diaz my brain automatically went somewhere very, very bad. "W-w-what?" I could feel the blush stretching over every inch of my body. Seriously, I think my feet were even embarrassed and angry. "I'm not ... I won't ... " I knew the moment Liam realized what I was thinking because his face also shot up in flames. "No! Not ... That." He looked as though he was having some sort of episode, like maybe an aneurysm. "You were supposed to get down on your knees and beg me for forgiveness because you were wrong about the pizza guy. I don't want ... I mean, I wasn't asking you to
" I held up a hand. "Please don't say it. I think we've both been traumatized enough. — Tammy Blackwell

can't see her in the dark, but I know she's looking at me when she says, "I know you've been kind of weird about Ryan and that's why we didn't use him for Mr. Vernon's going-away party, but, Becs, you have to admit he'd be completely perfect for this. He has the hair and the accent and the guitar. The girls will totally eat him up." She's so right, but aaaaaaah. I'm way too embarrassed around Ryan. I mean, at least I learned my lesson and I'm not throwing myself at him anymore. No more bike crashes for me. The other day, he and Lance were in the line ahead of me, Sades, and Izzy at mini golf and when Lance asked us to join them, I was the one to say they should just go ahead so we could have girl time. I could tell Ryan was, like, ubershocked. His eyebrows were — Jen Malone

You should have seen her this morning,' he said, smiling. 'She's got into the pantry and tipped a box of Cheerios all over the kitchen floor. I walk in and she's crawling around eating them as fast as she can. Mum's standing there, watching her - she got this embarrassed look when she saw me - she does, 'I know, I know, but I can't bring myself to stop her. She thinks she's hit the jackpot. — Jaclyn Moriarty

You must be very embarrassed," I heard myself say.
He snorted and tightened his grip. "I hardly find slicing E'than'i'el open embarrassing. And you have other things to worry about. Like the fact that, over the long years of my exile, I have developed a taste for human hearts."
"Right. Of course." I took a deep, steadying breath. "I only meant that I would die of shame if I had thousands of years of pictures of me in a diaper with feather dusters on my back. — Vicki Keire

What?"
"You're so neat," she said, looking almost embarrassed.
He glanced pointedly over his shoulder. "There are four hundred on the other side of this door."
"But you're ruining me."
"I can't do it neatly? — Julia Quinn

Where he listened some more until I'd pretty well run it down. Then he walked me back and - " "You invite him back in and have sex," Emma prompted. "Get your own sexy breakfast story. I felt mildly embarrassed, and really grateful, so I give him a little peck. A 'thanks, pal' kind of peck. The next thing I know I'm in the middle of a brain-frying, blood-pumping, jungle-drum-beating kiss. — Nora Roberts

Sometimes you find that one person, and you just know. And even if you don't love them right away, you know you will. It's just a matter of time. Because no one you've ever known has come close to making you feel the way they do. It keeps you up at night and drives you fucking crazy, but you pray to God the feeling never goes away no matter how much it's killing you." Sloane stared at him. "Wow." "Shut up," Ash mumbled, looking embarrassed. Like he hadn't realized what he'd said until then. "I've never heard you talk like this." He thought he knew everything there was to know about his best friend. Apparently he was wrong. Ash shrugged. "Yeah, well, almost dying makes you think." "About Cael?" Sloane asked quietly. Ash let out a weary sigh, his gaze falling to his hands. "Like I don't think about him every other day." "What are you going to do about him?" "I don't know. I really thought he'd give me some time, but he's going out for drinks with Seb this Friday." "And? — Charlie Cochet

And, finally, I noticed that a hot flush was spreading over me, and that the look in his eyes was doing more to me than Jesse's kisses had. Dimitri was quiet and distant sometimes, but he also had a dedication and an intensity that I'd never seen in any other person. I wondered how that kind of power and strength translated into ... well, sex. I wondered what it'd be like for him to touch me and - shit!
What was I thinking? Was I out of my mind? Embarrassed, I covered my feelings with attitude.
"You see something you like?" I asked.
"Get dressed. — Richelle Mead

His frown was less dark and more confused."What's new for you? Dancing?"
And so much more, but all I said was, "Yes."
"And you let some strange college boy grind all over you for your first time? That's stupid, Ali."
NOT GOING TO BE EMBARRASSED, NOT GOING TO BE EMBARRASSED."First, he wasn't grinding on me, and second, you're no better than him."
A solid minute of silence, then "You are terrible for my ego, you know that?"
I could say the same to him. — Gena Showalter

What are you doing out here this late?" A frown pulls at his mouth. "It's one in the morning."
"Me?" I walk across the lawn slowly, still not fully trusting. "What are you doing here?" And no, I don't believe he had just been driving by. "Are you stalking me?" Hunting me? I want to add.
He blinks. Some of the tension carving his face loosens then. Replaced with something else. He rubs at the back of his neck. The move is self-conscious. Innately human. Embarrassed.
"I - "
"You are," I pronounce, an unbidden smile coming to my mouth.
"Look," he grumbles, his eyes angry. Defensive. "I just wanted to see where you live."
I stop before him. "Why?"
He rubs the back of his neck again, this time the motion is savage, annoyed. With me or himself, I'm not sure. — Sophie Jordan

He started to talk about my writing and I stopped listening. I was embarrassed and it made me feel sick for people to talk about my writing to my face, and I looked at him and his marked-for-death look and I thought, you con man conning me with your con. I've seen a battalion in the dust on the road, a third of them for death or worse and no special marks on them, the dust was for all, and you and your marked for death look, you con man, making a living out of your death. Now you will con me. Con not, that thou be not conned. Death was not conning with him. It was coming all right. — Ernest Hemingway,

She released her weapon with one hand, twisted around, and kissed him. It was the deepest she had ever kissed him. Blood filled his face, and he went limp at the touch of her lips. Namine took the moment of dropped defense to put Zarrys flat on his back with a long blade at his throat before he even knew what was happening. As he looked up the long shaft to her smiling face, he gave an embarrassed chuckle. Fallon and Kirah were laughing behind her.
"Me," Namine said proudly. Then she withdrew the weapon and helped Zarrys back to his feet.
Cheeks burning, Zarrys returned his sword to its sheath. "That's cheating. — S.R. Ford

You haven't," he repeated. "You're stewin' on it."
This was true too. If I had a dollar for every time his words in his voice popped into my head and made me flinch the last two days, I could move to the Riviera. They even woke me up in the middle of the night. Then again, I had insomnia and always did, even as a kid. I regularly thought of stuff in my life, stuff that embarrassed me or hurt me or worried me or freaked me out and I couldn't get to sleep. Then, when I did, I'd wake up three, four times a night sometimes tossing and turning for hours before finding sleep again. This beautiful man saying those horrible words when talking about me was not only fresh, it was the worst of all my nightly demons by far and it would be in a way I knew would last the rest of my life. — Kristen Ashley

Sometimes I just want to go in a room and break things and scream. Like, it's so much pressure all the time and if you get upset or angry, people say, 'Are you on the rag of something?' And it's like I want to say, 'No. I'm just pissed off right now. Can't I just be pissed off? How come that's not okay for me?' Like my dad will say, 'I can't talk to you when you're hysterical.' And I'm totally not being hysterical! I'm just mad. And he's the one losing it. But then I feel embarrassed anyway. So I slap on that smile and pretend everything's okay even though it's not. — Libba Bray

So I have absolutely no privacy anymore? None? Because the four of you had to check scores with each other?" His frustration was clear.
"You know, for someone concerned with honesty, you ought to be grateful."
He stopped and stared. "I beg your pardon?"
"Everything is out in the open now. We all have a pretty good idea of where we stand, and I, for one, am thankful."
He rolled his eyes. "Thankful?" "If you had told me that Celeste and I were at about the same point with you physically, I would never have tried to come on to you like I did last night. Do you know how humiliated I was?" He scoffed and started pacing again. "Please, America, you've said and done so many foolish things, I'm surprised you can even be embarrassed anymore. — Kiera Cass

Often, when we are in trouble, or doubting, or struggling, we rely on others to carry us to God. Just as often we must do the carrying, to help friends who are struggling. This is one of the many benefits of organized religion, as we all need others to help us find God. Even though we may disagree with others and find life in a community occasionally annoying and sometimes scandalous, we need others, because the community is one way that we are carried to God, especially when we are too weak to walk to God on our own. But I wondered about the paralyzed man. He may have felt shame for his illness or for being unable to support himself. Maybe his friends carried him in spite of himself. Sometimes when we are too embarrassed to approach God, someone must bring us there - even drag us there. Many times when I am discouraged, demoralized, or angry at God, it is friends who remind me of God's great love and who carry me to God. We cannot come to God without others. — James Martin

From a distance,' he says, 'my car looks just like every other car on the freeway, and Sarah Byrnes looks just like the rest of us. And if she's going to get help, she'll get it from herself or she'll get it from us. Let me tell you why I brought this up. Because the other day when I saw how hard it was for Mobe to go to the hospital to see her, I was embarrassed that I didn't know her better, that I ever laughed at one joke about her. I was embarrassed that I let some kid go to school with me for twelve years and turned my back on pain that must be unbearable. I was embarrassed that I haven't found a way to include her somehow the way Mobe has.'
Jesus. I feel tears welling up, and I see them running down Ellerby's cheeks. Lemry better get a handle on this class before it turns into some kind of therapy group.
So,' Lemry says quietly, 'your subject will be the juxtaposition of man and God in the universe?'
Ellerby shakes his head. 'My subject will be shame. — Chris Crutcher

It's compulsive but we actually find the painful repetition pleasurable." He took another sip. "It doesn't sound pleasurable." "It's how we self-soothe. How we maintain the illusion that we are in control of our lives. For example, you repeat 'Pick up' in hopes that the outcome each time will be different. And you are repeatedly embarrassed, are you not?" He waited for me to respond but I wouldn't meet his eyes. "You are hoping to master the experience. The pain is what we know. It's our barometer of reality. We never trust pleasure." Every time Howard looked at me I felt bare. — Stephanie Danler

He gave me heaven and earth, and assumed I'd be satisfied; Actually I was too embarrassed to argue. The spiritual seekers are tired, two or three at each stage of the path. The rest who have given up never knew your address at all. There are so many in this gathering who wish the candle well. But if the being of the candle is melting, what can the sorrow-sharers do? — Mirza Asadullah Khan Ghalib

Then Jackson himself wept openly for the first time since Rachel's death. Looking around him, he seemed embarrassed and explained: "I know it's unmanly, but these tears are due her virtues. She has shed many for me." He paused. "In the presence of this saint, I can and do forgive my enemies." And his voice rose. "But those vile wretches who have slandered her must look to God for mercy! — Peter J. Marshall

Choose the one you want," he told her.

She giggled as the puppy contorted itself in an effort to lick her hand without rolling off its back. "Oh, you are silly, aren't you? Just the silliest little ..." Her hand stilled on the puppy. Her eyes shot to his. "What did you just say?"

"Choose which pup you'd like as your own."

"My own?"

"You wanted a hound," he reminded her.

"Yes, I ..." She looked at the dogs, then back at him. "Are you giving me a dog?"

"For the sake of propriety, we are to say it is a gift from your brother, but ..."

"But it's from you. You're giving me a dog," she said, and there was a notable catch in her voice.

"Well ... More or less." For reasons that baffled him, he suddenly felt equal parts embarrassed and pleased. "It was my idea." He cleared his throat, fought off the urge to shift his feet. — Alissa Johnson

Pulling back, he gave her a little space and grinned as she found her balance again.
"Do you think that will ever get old?" Harper asked with an embarrassed blush.
"Christ, I hope not. Just remember how you feel right now because you might be really mad at me in about one minute."
"Uh-oh. I don't think I like the sound of that." Harper raised an eyebrow at him.
He took her hand and led her toward the studio before pulling her in front of him, her back to his chest. It was the safest position to avoid a kick in the nuts and the best position to block a fast escape.
He felt Harper's quick intake of breath as she turned to face him with a hand over her mouth.
"What did you do?" she said through her fingers.
"Happy birthday, sweetheart." He pushed her through the door as everyone inside shouted, "Surprise! — Scarlett Cole

That reminds me of a song," said Emilia. The women laughed; the men groaned. But the fire was blazing and the night was long, and folk will want entertainment after the tedium of a day's work. Emilia's song detailed the amorous adventures of a water horse who fell in love - if love was the right word - with a series of young women who passed beside the lake in which the creature dwelled and from which he emerged in the form of a good-looking young man of exactly the right sort to catch a young woman's fancy. She had a clear voice and a pleasing timbre, and every local knew the chorus, whose euphemisms about mounting and galloping embarrassed me. We did not sing these sorts of songs in the Barahal house. Rory caught right on and sang the chorus as if born to it. In the laughter and pounding of tables that followed, I said, to no one in particular, "I thought kelpies drowned and then devoured their victims!" The words, innocently spoken, only caused the gathered folk to laugh even — Kate Elliott

At the negotiations in Irvine, it became clear to me that there was no side I could stand on. The English despise me and my countrymen don't trust me. Wallace and the others are rebelling in the name of Balliol. I cannot fight with them. It would be as much a betrayal of my oath as when I was fighting for England. I know what I must do. What I should have done months ago.'
Robert felt embarrassed, about to say the words. Inside, his father's voice berated him, but he silenced it. 'I want you to weave my destiny,' he finished. 'As you did for my grandfather.'
When she spoke, her voice was low. 'And what is your destiny?'
He met her eyes now, all hesitation and embarrassment gone. 'To be King of Scotland.'
A smile appeared at the corners of her mouth. It wasn't a soft smile. It was hard and dangerous. 'I will need something of yours,' she said, rising. — Robyn Young

He tells my parents how I took every class he taught. He tells them, "You have a special boy here." Embarrassed, I look at my feet. Before we leave, I hand my professor a present, a tan briefcase with his initials on the front. I bought this the day before at a shopping mall. I didn't want to forget him. Maybe I didn't want him to forget me.
"Mitch, you are one of the good ones," he says, admiring the briefcase. Then he hugs me. I feel his thin arms around my back. I am taller than he is, and when he holds me, I feel awkward, older, as if I were the parent and he were the child.
He asks if I will stay in touch, and without hesitation I say, "Of course." When he steps back, I see that he is crying. — Mitch Albom

The man holding my hand was slim and wiry. Cropped black hair framed a face full of angles. He studied me with more curiosity than sympathy.

He had the rough-edged look of a suspect on Crime Stoppers, complete with dark, piercing eyes.
"My name is Kieran." He eased his hand away from mine, as though embarrassed by his earlier compassion. "A friend brought you here. — Sharon Hinck

Bye, sweetheart," he said gently and put the truck in gear, but he stopped me. "Wait." I looked at him and he had a little embarrassed smile on his face. "Uh ... I can't leave." That made me feel ... kinda awesome. It was the first time he needed me to release him and not the other way around. "Really?" He smiled and shook his head. "You're really enjoying this, aren't you?" "Yep." He laughed, his smile ... pretty sexy. "We'll see each other in just a little bit. I promise," I finished so softly, it sucked all the playfulness out of the truck and turned it into something else entirely. — Shelly Crane

I know very well you can't help me," he said. "But I tell you, because unsuccessful and superfluous people like me find their salvation in talking. I have to generalise about everything I do. I'm bound to look for an explanation and justification of my absurd existence in somebody else's theories, in literary types - in the idea that we, upper-class Russians, are degenerating, for instance, and so on. Last night, for example, I comforted myself by thinking all the time: 'Ah, how true Tolstoy is, how mercilessly true!' And that did me good. Yes, really, brother, he is a great writer, say what you like!" Samoylenko, who had never read Tolstoy and was intending to do so every day of his life, was a little embarrassed, and said: "Yes, all other authors write from imagination, but he writes straight from nature. — Anton Chekhov

I want to know why you don't like me, Malloy. I like you, even if you do hit people."
He sighed. "I never said I didn't like you, Mrs. Brandt."
Reasonable again. She wanted to smack him. "And why don't you ever call me Sarah? You think I'm beautiful, but you never call me Sarah."
He muttered something she didn't understand.
"You do think I'm beautiful," she insisted. "You said so!"
"Yes, I do," he said grudgingly. "And I do like you, Sarah. Now let's talk about something else, because you're going to be very embarrassed if you remember any of this conversation tomorrow. — Victoria Thompson

Taking a deep breath and trying not to reveal my sudden feeling of inadequacy, I was about to come back with a counter offer when a knock on the window startled me and I did what I always do ... I squeaked, which Tristan thought was pretty hilarious. And for whatever reason, that embarrassed me. Nooo, not telling a guy I'd need gum in order to give him a blowjob, or being more than half-naked with a guy and almost having sex for the time, nor sitting on said guy's lap while he has an obvious erection ... no, none of that embarrasses me. Nope, squeaking like a timid mouse in front of him ... that's what turns my face bright red. I'm tellin' ya, I have issues. — Jenn Cooksey

Suddenly, as one, all the Greys stop talking and gape at Christian.
What?
Christian is singing softly to himself at the piano. Silence descends on us all as we strain to hear his soft, lyrical voice. I've heard him sing before, haven't they? He stops, suddenly conscious of the deathly hush that's fallen over the room. Kate glances questioningly at me and I shrug. Christian turns on the stool and frowns, embarrassed to realize he's become the center of attention.
'Go on,' Grace urges softly. 'I've never heard you sing, Christian. Ever. — E.L. James

Read your work aloud, if you can, if you aren't too embarrassed by the sound of your voice ringing out when you are alone in a room. Chances are that the sentence you can hardly pronounce without stumbling is a sentence that needs to be reworked to make it smoother and more fluent. A poet once told me that he was reading a draft of a new poem aloud to himself when a thief broke into his Manhattan loft. Instantly surmising that he had entered the dwelling of a madman, the thief turned and ran without taking anything, and without harming the poet. So it maybe that reading your work aloud will not only improve its quality but save your life in the process. — Francine Prose

God help me if I should ever lose my looks."
"I wouldn't mind."
He gave her a quizzical smile. "What?"
"If..." Evie paused, suddenly embarrassed. "If anything happened to your looks... if you became... less handsome. Your appearance wouldn't matter to me.I would still..." She paused and finished hesitantly, "...want you as my husband."
Sebastian's smile faded slowly. He gave her a long, intent stare, her wrist still clasped in his hand. Something strange crossed his expression... an undefinable emotion wrought of heat and vulnerability. When he answered, his voice was strained from the effort to sound cavalier. "Without a doubt, you're the first one who's ever said that to me. — Lisa Kleypas

When I come back, the club is packed. There's hardly any standing room. Anna snagged a wooden bar stool, one of the few seats here. St. Clair stands close to her, facing her, and he smoothes the platinum stripe in her hair. She pulls him even closer by the top of his jeans, one finger tucked inside. It's an intimate gesture. I'm embarrassed to watch, but I can't look away.
He kisses her slowly and deeply. They don't care that anyone could watch. Or maybe they've forgotten they aren't alone. When they break apart, Anna says something that makes him fall into silly, boyish laughter. For some reason, that's the moment that makes me turn away. Something about their love is painful. — Stephanie Perkins

Do you think he's, like, embarrassed of me?"
Ben laughed. "What? No," he said.
"Technically," I added, "you should be embarrassed of him."
She rolled her eyes, smiling. A girl accustomed to compliments. — John Green

Most of the boys would come with bits of equipment that their fathers had given them from their war days - helmets, canteens, binoculars, these kinds of things - that leant a kind of authenticity to the games we were playing. But, of course, my father never gave me anything. So I began to question him. You know, Why don't you have anything from the war? And I think he was ... embarrassed to tell me he hadn't fought, because, you know, little boys want to turn their fathers into heroes, and he didn't want to be diminished in my eyes. — Paul Auster

I was rough before. I'm sorry."
The apology, so quiet and unexpected, embarrassed her. "Forget it." She shifted away, drained her cup, set it aside.
"I won't forget it; neither will you." He took her hand, lifted it to his lips. Nothing could have pleased him more than the quick suspicion on her face. "You won't forget me, Eve. You'll think of me, perhaps not fondly, but you'll think of me."
"I'm in the middle of a murder investigation. You're part of it. Sure, I'll think of you. — J.D. Robb

Silence cleared her throat, fearful her voice would come out a croak. "Is she asleep?"
He blinked as if he, too, were waking from a dream, and glanced down at Mary Darling. "Aye, I'm a-thinkin' she is - she's stopped fussin' at me."
Silence felt a huge smile of relief spread over her face. "She was fussing? Oh, how wonderful!"
He shot her a look, one eyebrow arching. "Ye've taught the child to bully me, too, now?"
"Oh, no," she said hastily, embarrassed. Did he really think she bullied him? What a silly notion! — Elizabeth Hoyt

In the end, Astrid couldn't do anything about my . . . turning into light, but she made a prediction. She said the sun would help me and I would be cured thanks to its efforts.'
'The sun?'
'Yes. It was the symbol I drew from among the runes. Astrid says it represents . . .'
'What?' he said, looking at me curiously, and I could see that he really wanted to hear the answer.
I became embarrassed.
'It's not important . . .' I muttered.
'Please tell me!' He turned fully towards me and I could feel myself blushing pink.
'The . . . man in my life.'
I was done for. My heart was beating heavily but Elijah, for the first time since I had awoken, smiled. I was incredibly ashamed of myself, so I made to go back to the house, but the Dark Angel grabbed my wrist. — A.O. Esther

It was Gideon who finally broke the silence, which gave me a certain satisfaction. "What's the matter? Cat got your tongue?" The way he asked, he sounded almost embarrassed.
"What?"
"It's what my mother always used to when I was little. If I was looking straight ahead and saying nothing, like you right at this moment."
"You have a mother?" Only when I'd said it did I realize what a silly question it was! Oh, for heaven's sake!
Gideon raised one eyebrow. "What did you expect?" he asked, amused. "You thought I was an android put together by Uncle Falk and Mr. George?"
"Well, it's not such an outlandish idea. Do you have photos of yourself as a baby?" Trying to imagine a baby Gideon with a round, soft plump-cheeked face and a bald head made me grin. — Kerstin Gier

You've already slept the entire day. Why not take over for Matthew now?"
"You really think I could sleep with your eyes devouring me all day?"
Her face turned red with rage and mortification. That faker! She had been staring at him at various times throughout the day. She probably had his face so memorized that she could sketch it without his being present. But he couldn't keep his knowledge of that to himself? He had to make sure she was embarrassed right down to her toes?
But he didn't rub it in further. At least,she thought he was done with the subject when he lay down on his seat and turned his back to her. "Get some sleep yourself," he ordered. "You'll need to be at your best tomorrow, too."
She was just lying down when he added, "And keep your eyes off my arse."
Waves of heat crept up to her cheeks. That pretty much guarenteed that she wasn't going to get any sleep until he was out of the coach. — Johanna Lindsey

This man, although he appeared so humble and embarrassed in his air and manners, and passed so unheeded, had inspired me with such a feeling of horror by the unearthly paleness of his countenance, from which I could not avert my eyes, that I was unable longer to endure it. — Adelbert Von Chamisso

Why do you look?" I mutter.
I half expect Magiano to tease me, spitting back one of his sarcastic phrases. But he doesn't smile. "We are drawn to stories," he says in a soft voice, "and every scar carries one." He lifts a hand and places his palm gently against the ruined side of my face, covering the scar.
I look down, embarrassed now. Instinctively, I reach up to brush some of my hair over my face - only to remember that I no longer have long locks.
"Hiding it makes you more beautiful," Magiano says. Then he takes his hand away, exposing my scar again. "But revealing it makes you you." He nods at me. "So wear it proudly. — Marie Lu

Win walked over to me. He held out his palm. In the middle of it was a single black sequin from the dress Scarlet had lent me. "You lost this," he said. I giggled, slightly embarrassed to be leaving bits of myself behind. "I'm shedding. — Gabrielle Zevin

Without fail, he always signed off on these letters with love and he always included Whiskey and Bess in the list of individuals sending this love my way. At the time it made me laugh, it made me embarrassed, but as soon as I softened, as soon as I matured back into his son, I came to appreciate what he was saying
an endearing and magnanimous reminder of how family will always be the sum of its individual members, be they human or animal. — Nick Trout

A blush of breeze rose from the grass. Jacob felt as if an angel's wing had beat against his cheek. He touched his cheek slowly. He felt embarrassed by the thought.
"That I should think an angel came to me."
He wept. And, again, the brush of breeze against his cheek. — Noah Benshea

A cemetery?" I chuckle, but the pitch is a bit higher than I expected. "At night? With a full moon? Um ... did you see any, uh, zombies, you, while you were there?"
Shiko blinks at me a few times. "No"
I slump in relief. "Thank God. I mean, I don't want to be the first to die. The funny guy always dies first, for shock value, you know. Rourke would get killed next, because it's be a heroic sacrifice or something." I motion to Shiko. "You'd live, though, unless you had sex."
... Shiko has the look of an addled kitten, complete with head tilt. Rourke sighs and leans toward her, embarrassed.
'You'll have to excuse him. According to his mother he has an irrational fear of something called the zombie apocalypse."
"It's not irrational! — Vaughn R. Demont

I almost jumped when the door opened. Alex came back inside, wearing black sweatpants; I swallowed as I saw his chest bare. "Forgot my T-shirt," he said sheepishly. His bag was on the floor near the bed, and I watched the lantern light play on his skin as he crossed to it. Squatting by the bag, he pulled out a T-shirt; I sat frozen, taking in the movement of his back and shoulders.
I stood up, my heart hammering. "Wait. Can I just ... ?" I trailed off as he turned to look at me.
"What?" he said, rising to his feet.
An embarrassed laugh escaped me. I shook my head. "Just
before you put that on, can I ... ?" In slow motion, I went over to him. I reached out toward his chest and then stopped, my fingers hesitating an inch from his skin. "Is
this all right?"
Alex stood very still, a soft smile on his face. "Anything you want is all right. — L.A. Weatherly

He loved her for her wit, her cynicism, her deceptions. Less than lovable these seem to me now. They are both sly, Hugh and Margaret, they are socially awkward, easily embarrassed. But cold underneath, you may be sure, colder than us easy flirts with our charms and conquests. They do not reveal themselves. They will never admit to anything, never have to talk about anything, no, I could claw their skin and it would be my own fingers that would bleed. I could scream at them till my throat bursts and never alter their self-possession, change the look of their sly averted faces. Both blond, both easy blushers, both cold mockers. They have contempt for me. That is rubbish of course. Nothing for me. All for each other. Love. — Alice Munro