Quotes & Sayings About Pissing Off A Woman

An old woman selling piglets from a basket stopped to stare at him, a knight with a half-familiar face went to one knee, and two men-at-arms pissing in a ditch turned and sprayed each other. — George R R Martin

Chance looked over at Quinn as he explained the rules... again. Chance knew all of those things, hell, he had lived by them since he bedded his first woman. In the fact, he even added a rule of his own. He never, under any circumstances, went back for seconds with the women he slept with. He was infamous for pissing off women when they said something about him calling them, or seeing them again. Rather than pulling a dodging act most men learned at method which gained him adoration from other men and venom from women. No matter how progressive a woman claimed to be, the moment she realized she had just been fucked like she had never been fucked before or would ever be fucked again; they wanted to hang on. Chance had termed it the law of dickmitizing. — Shyloh Morgan

Those pissing contests are how lords judge one another's strength, and woe to any man who shows his weakness. A woman must needs piss twice as hard, if she hopes to rule. And — George R R Martin

Roan looked down at the pathetic little fur ball with a pink ribbon clipped to the top of its head and growled at it. It came from deep in his throat, and while it was unintentional, it wasn't precisely a human noise. He could feel it in his throat, vibrating his vocal chords, and the dog's ears rotated briefly in as much alarm as a dog could express, and then it whimpered and cringed, pissing on the sidewalk in submission.
The woman took a couple steps backward, eyes wide and horrified, and dragged her dog past them as she hurried off, the Pom more than happy to leave.
Paris looked at him, an eyebrow raised and the corner of his mouth quirked up in a half smile. "I love it when you get defensive."
"I'm the king of the jungle.I'm not taking any shit from a living dust mop. — Andrea Speed

A long-faced, proud-shouldered woman with deep olive skin snorts at the demotion. Her gaze is peculiarly shrewd for a Blue. Bald, like the rest, with digital azure tattoos swirling not only along crown and temples, but over hands and neck. Sevro lopes back to me. "Sevro, stop pissing around." "I like being big." "I'm still bigger." He tries flipping me the crux in his suit, but the mechanical fingers aren't so agile. I — Pierce Brown