Stop Asking About Me Quotes & Sayings

Prayer isn't just about asking for things. It's taking time to hear what God is saying, too, just like any good conversation. Once we finally stop talking and demanding and begging for things, it's easier to hear what God is trying to say to us. — Lynn Austin

Quite a lot of people wanted me to write about my family, I suppose for fairly obvious reasons, and there was always something that would stop me, I thought they were asking me for the wrong motives. — Emma Tennant

You may tell yourself a hundred times that you love someone more than yourself, more than your life and that you would do anything to be with that person even if the person does not care about you as much as you care for that person, or maybe even if you do not exist for that person at all. But, the fact is - there is always a little voice inside your head asking you to stop, turn around and walk away. The sensible thing to do would be to heed to that voice. — Arti Honrao

Make your purpose brilliant. Keep it clear. Seek to energize it with positives. Do not lumber up your plan. Centralize it. Modify it. Create it as a necessity. Form into it the indispensable. Then embody yourself into it. See that nothing about you defeats, or neutralizes attraction. Have a burning interest in your proposition. Look for fulfillment. Anticipate success. Make the world feel that you know you are right. Stop asking folks if they think you will succeed. Of course they do not, because they have not. Hold your mind relaxed in Silence. Make your desire active. Set your wishes in motion. Confidence attracts confidence. Positives attract positives. Bring out your latent forces, they only need arousing. THINK AND ACT. — Delmer Eugene Croft

Do you love him?"
"I wish people would stop asking me that," Celia muttered under her breath.
"What people?"
"Gran." She swallowed. "Mr. Pinter."
"Mr. Pinter?" Minerva echoed with decided interest.
"It's not what you think," Celia protested. "I hired him to find out the truth about my suitors, so he wanted to know if I was in love with any of them."
Minerva arched one eyebrow. "And why should he care?"
"That's what I said. And ever since, he's been baiting me in front of them and telling me awful things about them to blacken them in my mind."
"Even Lyons?" Minerva said.
"Well, no. I mean, I'm sure you've heard about the madness in the duke's family, but beyond that, Jackson hasn't found a single thing-"
"Jackson?"
Celia colored. "Mr. Pinter." When Minerva kept staring, she added sullenly, "We've been in each other's pockets because of the investigation. That's all. — Sabrina Jeffries

Good-bye,' I said to them, but they didn't seem to hear me, and why would they have wanted to? Why would they have wanted to do with the world outside of each other? Outside each other, they were mean little human beings like the rest of us, the kind of people you both loathed and pitied. Separately, they were characters, and not in a good way. But together they were something to wonder at and maybe even envy. I had this unoriginal thought as I walked out the door and toward my van: love changes us, makes us into people whom others then want to love. That's why, to those of us without it, love is the voice asking, What else? What else? And to those of us who have had love and lost it or thrown it away, then love is the voice that leads us back to love, to see if it might still be ours or if we've lost it, love is also the thing that makes us speak in aphorisms about love, which is why we try to get love back, so we can stop speaking that way. Aphoristically, that is. — Brock Clarke

He came around to open my door and held out his hand to me. The gesture said more than what the eye could see. He could have easily lifted me out of the car without me being able to do anything to stop him but instead he was asking for my consent. To accept what was about the happen. — B.B. Reid

View your life with KINDSIGHT. Stop beating yourself up about things from your past. Instead of slapping your forehead and asking, "What was I thinking," breathe and ask yourself the kinder question, "What was I learning? — Karen Salmansohn

The great, terrifying existentialist question : If you were doomed to live the same life over and over again for eternity, would you choose the life you are living now? The question is interesting enough, but I've always thought the point of asking it is really the unspoken, potentially devastating follow-up question. That is, if the answer is no, then why are you living the life you are living now? Stop making excuses , and do something about it. — William Alexander

This morning he was stroking my hair and asking what else he could do for me, and I said: "My gosh, Nick, why are you so wonderful to me?"
He was supposed to say: YOU DESERVE IT. I LOVE YOU. But he said, "Because I feel sorry for you."
"Why?"
"Because every morning you have to wake up and be you."
I really, truly wish he hadn't said that. I keep thinking about it. I can't stop. — Gillian Flynn

What are you asking of me?"
Cash's back is to me. I see him run his fingers through his hair and I hear him sigh again.
"I'm asking you to trust me, Olivia." He turns to face me. "Trust in what you know about me. Because I know, if you stop listening to your fear, you know who I am. Deep down. You know me, Olivia. You know me. — M. Leighton

A beautiful life is about spending your time passionately, being happy with who you are inside, and not worrying about everyone's petty judgments. If you want to achieve greatness, stop asking for everyone's approval. You don't need anyone's approval to be happy or to follow your heart. — Shivesh Thakur

Talking about freedom, about ethical issues, about responsibilities as well as convenience, is asking people to think about things they might prefer to ignore, such as whether their conduct is ethical. This can trigger discomfort, and some people may simply close their minds to it. It does not follow that we ought to stop talking about these things. — Richard Stallman

We needed to stop asking about the meaning of life. — Viktor E. Frankl

I remember asking myself one night, while I was curled up in the same old corner of my same old couch in tears yet again over the same old repetition of sorrowful thoughts, 'Is there ANYTHING about this scene you can change, Liz?' And all I could think to do was stand up, whle still sobbing, and try to balance on one foot in the middle of the living room. Just to prove that - while I couldn't stop the tears or change my dismal interior dialogue - I was not yet totally out of control: at least I could cry hysterically while balanced on one foot. — Elizabeth Gilbert

We caught seventy-five frogs that night! We left our ice chest in the truck, so I was putting frogs in my socks and the pockets of my pants and shirt.
When we couldn't carry any more frogs, we made our way back to my truck. As soon as we arrived, police cars came from every direction. A homeowner in the neighborhood must have seen my truck and feared we were burglars. As the police questioned us, they must have thought Mike was drunk, because he couldn't stop laughing. They kept asking me what we'd been drinking and smoking and where it was. When a policeman shined a light on my shirt, I figured out what Mike was giggling about. I forgot I'd stuffed a frog into the front pocket of my shirt and buttoned it. Its legs were sticking out of my pocket and it looked like it was wearing a diaper! The police let us go but warned us to never sneak back onto the golf course because it was trespassing. We probably went back three or four times by a different route and never were caught. — Jase Robertson

A lot of extroverts become quiet when they are feeling sad, angry, or trying to send someone else a message. They think that if they stop talking, the other person will automatically realize that something is wrong, and we will ask them about it (i.e. passive-aggressive behavior). This is why when an extrovert runs into a quiet, introverted person, they assume that person is quiet because they are sad/angry/depressed, and they are waiting for someone to ask them about it. This may also be the reason why extroverts always seem to be telling introverts to "cheer up," or asking them if everything is okay? — Drew Kimble

I don't ship anything. Except when I have to send packages through the mail. Now, please stop asking about fanfic. — Patrick Stump

In my opinion, most of us have not been taught how to be responsible for our thoughts and feelings. I see this strongly in the widespread tendency to read books and stories as if they exist to confirm how we are supposed to be, think, and feel. I'm not talking about wacky political correctness, I'm talking mainstream ... Ladies and gentlemen, please. Stop asking, "What am I supposed to feel?" Why would an adult look to me or any other writer to tell him or her what to feel? You're not supposed to feel anything. You feel what you feel. Where you go with it is your responsibility. If a writer chooses to aggressively let you know what he or she feels, where you go with it is still your responsibility. — Mary Gaitskill

And do you know the oddest thing about murder and war and violence?'
'Oh, Mary Shelley, please stop talking about those types of things.'
'The oddest thing is that they all go against the lessons that grown-ups teach children. Don't hurt anyone. Solve your problems with language instead of fists. Share your things. Don't take something that belongs to someone else without asking. Use your manners. Do unto others as you would have them do unto you. Why do mothers and fathers bother spending so much time teaching children these lessons when grown-ups don't pay any attention to the words themselves? — Cat Winters

Didn't I just ask you to stop asking questions?"
"You asked me to stop for one second. You should have been more specific if you wanted longer." Having a big brother taught me quite a bit about arguing with the intent to wear down my opponent. — Myra McEntire

Brian's eyeborw shot up. "Don't m ind me for asking silly questions, Anna, but aren't you the one who determines Bux's fate?"
"You obviously know nothing about the writing process," Anna shot back impatiently. "My characters are living, breathing beings, Brian, and they do what they must in order for the story to unfold. But they aren't perfect, Far from it! All too often, they exercise bad behavior and make poor decisions and there's nothing I can do to stop them. — Judy Kouzel

He looks back down to find that his brother is no longer there. He is no longer there to stop him from ridiculing Merle Hodge or making some smart-ass remark about woodpeckers. He doesn't stop him when he thinks about asking the tour guide an unanswerable question or when he considers pretending to see a large bird off in the distance. He isn't there anymore to supply Cullen Witter with endless chances to do better. — John Corey Whaley

Correct me if I'm wrong, Valentine," St. Just said, "but wasn't it you who was cursing and stomping about here last night because I suggested we wait one day to see what the weather was going to do?" "I wasn't cursing. Ellen frowns on it, and one needs to get out of the habit if one is going to have children underfoot." "Doesn't exactly work that way," Westhaven muttered. "I'm willing to tarry a day if you're asking us to, Val. Devlin?" "The horses can use the rest." Val looked momentarily nonplussed at having won his battle without firing a shot then dropped down onto a sofa. "So, Westhaven, are you saying children don't inspire a man to stop cursing?" "They most assuredly do not," Westhaven said, rising. "His Grace and I are agreed on this, which is frightening of and by itself. Let me order some toddies, and we can discuss exactly how the arrival of children changes an otherwise happily married man's vocabulary. — Grace Burrowes

You got a tattoo?" It's the third time I've asked Holder the same question, but I just don't believe it. It's out of character for him. Especially since I'm not the one who encouraged it. "Jesus, Daniel," he groans on the other end of the line. "Stop. And stop asking me why." "It's just a weird thing to tattoo on yourself. Hopeless. It's a very depressing term. But still, I'm impressed." "I gotta go. I'll call you later this week." I sigh into the phone. "God, this sucks, man. The only good thing about this entire school since you moved is fifth period. — Colleen Hoover

I didn't like that look, and I didn't want it. But you can't just tell someone to knock off her look because she'll only give you another. And if you happen to raise your voice too much while asking her to stop looking, she'll hurry off to tell a friend about your behavior the second you walk out of earshot. And then that friend will come find you under some kind of pretense, wanting to decipher what's up your ass today. — Andrea Seigel

F you put people on a diet, they start thinking about food. Or if you make someone stop smoking, all they think about is cigarettes. It seems logical enough to me that if you tell a person he can't have sex, he's going to be obsessive about the subject. Then to give him the power to tell other people how to run their sex lives, well, that's just asking for trouble. In a way, it's like having a blind person teach Art History, isn't it? — Donna Leon

You fight with Niles?" Max asked suddenly.
"No."
"Never?"
"No! And stop asking about Niles," I demanded.
He ignored my demand and kept questioning. "Didn't care enough to fight, didn't match you in fire, or was so lazy he just put up with your shit? — Kristen Ashley

The press keep asking me but I will stop when I stop scoring. The problem is football is very ageist. When you reach 30, they keep talking about your age. — Kevin Kilbane

New Rule: Stop asking Miss USA contestants if they believe in evolution. It's not their field. It's like asking Stephen Hawking if he believes in hair scrunchies. Here's what they know about: spray tans, fake boobs and baton twirling. Here's what they don't know about: everything else. If I cared about the uninformed opinions of some ditsy beauty queen, I'd join the Tea Party. — Bill Maher

When we present the gospel, we try to answer one question: How do I keep from going to hell? After that question is answered, we stop asking questions about God. With the American church being so concerned about converts, we don't take the time to present the God-centered universe to people. We don't try to dig deep into the truth of God. We need to learn the attributes of God before we know what He is like. — Francis Chan

Sandra."
"Thomas, I ... ."
"You called." He sounded concerned.
"Yes, I ... ."
"Why are you calling? Are you harmed?"
"No ... ."
"Are you rescheduling our Saturday lunch?"
"No ... ."
"Is this an emergency?"
"Stop asking questions and just listen."
"Why are you calling?"
I sighed, rolled my eyes. This was why I never called Thomas. "I need your help."
"Do you need money?"
"Thomas, I swear, if you ask me another question, I will secretly switch your caffeinated with decaf during Saturday lunch at least three times over the next six months."
I could tell he was thinking about my threat, weighing it against the compulsion of his curiosity. Belatedly he said, "Proceed — Penny Reid

But I'm learning it's human nature to want the things you can't have. What changes is how you go about pursuing the things you want. When you're a little kid and you're told no, you scream and throw a temper tantrum. When you're a teenager and your parents tell you no, you're old enough to internalize your temper tantrum. But you're smarter and you're sneakier this time around. So you nod and act like you care when they say no, when they tell you who you can be friends with, when they say the know what's best.
But then you go behind their backs to do it anyway.
Because at some point, you need to start calling the shots. At some point, you need to start believing you know whats best. Or, I thought with a smile, you just stop asking for their permission in the first place. — Katie Kacvinsky

There are a lot of questions I keep asking myself about why I do comedy. I guess I laugh to keep from crying. And I guess if you ever get me crying, I might not stop. This is the way I look at tragedy or else I'll cry. — Bob Newhart

Steady, Legs, I'm not going to bite," he teased. "Well, not unless you ask me to."

Despite herself, she snorted. "Stop calling me Legs." It was insulting...and made her want to dissolve into a puddle at his feet. Damn the man.

"I like the look of your legs, so I;m going to keep doing it. Now, how big are we thinking?"

Big. Thick and long.

Wait, that wasn't what he was asking.

Austin have a deep chuckle. "I can see from your face where your mind went, and yes, big is a good word for it. However, I was talking about your tattoo. — Carrie Ann Ryan

I tried so hard to fight the endless sobbing. I remember asking myself one night, while I was curled up in the same old corner of my same old couch in tears yet again over the same old repetition of sorrowful thoughts, "Is there anything about this scene you can change, Liz?" And all I could think to do was stand up, while still sobbing, and try to balance on one foot in the middle of my living room. Just to prove that - while I couldn't stop the tears or change my dismal interior dialogue - I was not yet totally out of control. At least I could cry hysterically while balanced on one foot. Hey, it was a start. — Elizabeth Gilbert

Someone wrote to me asking me to illustrate a missed connection that "hasn't happened yet." This guy has seen the same girl waiting at a bus stop on his morning commute for weeks, and has been trying to find a way to approach her. He thought it would be fun to put up a Missed Connections poster [of my painting] on the corner where she waits and see what happens. It is kind of an intriguing idea but there's something a bit too manipulative about it for my liking. It's a fine line between being creative and stalking! — Sophie Blackall

Of course, the tricky thing about these little questions was that, once I started asking them, it was hard to stop. — Jenna Miscavige Hill

The whiff of whatever I'd gotten in the ladies' room had definitely taken a big chunk out of any embarrassment I may have had left. Tonight had been my first time in a big-city club of any kind, let alone a strip or sex club. I had questions, was intensely curious, and between the clover weed and my partner's hands all over me less than a half hour before, I wasn't the least bit shy anymore about asking those questions. The little voice in my head was frantically waving for me to stop. I kicked the door shut on my little voice. Party pooper.
I half turned on my tuffet toward Ian, my right leg crossing over my left, also toward Ian. My little voice was banging on the door and screaming at me.
"Are people listening with our table anymore?" I whispered.
Ian glanced at the glowing surface. "No."
"Good. So, what is it with men and titty bars? — Lisa Shearin

For a second, I stop fighting and think about what he's asking me. Did I live? I made a best friend. Lost another. Cried. Laughed. Lost my virginity. Gained a piece of magic, gave it away. Possibly changed a man's destiny. Drank beer. Slept in cheap motels. Got pissed off. Laughed some more. Escaped from the police and bounty hunters. Watched the sun set over the ocean. Had a soda with my sister. Saw my mom and dad as they are. Understood music. Had sex again, and it was pretty mind-blowing. Not that I'm keeping score. Okay, I'm keeping score. Played the bass. Went to a concert. Wandered around New Orleans. Freed the snow globes. Saved the universe. — Libba Bray

Initially, I feel expansive when I try something new, and then contract as soon as I encounter difficulty or the unknown. I am learning to experiment with my tolerance of difficulty and the not knowing, in order to go further with my creative dreams.
Whenever I experience contraction, I explore it by asking, "Where did I stop and why?"
Building a creative dream life is not just about achieving, succeeding, or "meeting goals." It is also about floundering, stumbling, tripping and failing. — SARK

I hate asking directions. I am always afraid that the person I approach will step back and say, 'You want to go where? The centre of Brussels? Boy, are you lost. This is Lille, you dumb shit,' then stop other passers-by and say, 'You wanna hear something classic? Buddy, tell these people where you think you are,' and that I'll have to push my way through a crowd of people who are falling about and wiping tears of mirth from their eyes. So I trudged on. — Bill Bryson

I've thought about it properly, this whole praying thing, I mean really thought about it, and what I think is that maybe people are doing it wrong; that instead of asking God nicely, people should be demanding and questioning and threatening to stop worshipping. Maybe that way, he would think differently and try to make things right, like he is supposed to; even that verse in the Bible says ask for anything and you shall receive and, I mean, whose words are those? — NoViolet Bulawayo

I haven't tried this with anyone ... signifacant in a long time. It's never worked before."
"You haven't had sex before?"
"I have. But not with anyone i cared about or ... knew. One-time things. That's all."
"That's all-ever?"
"It's not like they 've been tons of them. There were more before, in high school, than there have been the last three years."
"Lucas? I said yes, and i meant it. I want this-as long as you have protection, i mean. I want this, with you. So this is okay. Please don't ask me to say stop."
"I want it to be better than okay. You deserve better than okay."
"You 're shaking, Jacqueline. Do you want to-"
"No." "I'm just a little cold."
"Better?"
"Yes."
"You know you can say it. But i'm not asking you to, this time."
"Good."
His earlier hesitation gone, he removed the last scraps of fabric we were wearing, fixed the condom in place, kissed me fiercely and rocked into me. — Tammara Webber

Here's one way that we try to actively and immediately bring in kindness in our meetings and camps: we ask our girls to stop before they speak and reevaluate what they're going to say based on this acronym:


True
Honest
Important
Necessary
Kind


Is what they're out to say True? Is it Honest? Is it Important? Necessary Kind?
We ask the to T.H.I.N.K. before they speak text, or type, and try to incorporate it into their daily lives -- especially within their interactions with their friends and classmates -- as much as possible. It's a choice girls can make: Do they want to encourage others with their words, or bring others down?

You might think this won't resonate with your middle school girl, but I promise that it works. It's not about self-editing or asking her not to speak her truth, of course; it's about thinking of others too. — Haley Kilpatrick

And in your new lives you'll have to live entirely for that one sensation-that of imminent truth. And you're going to have to holler for it, steal for it, beg for it-and you're never to stop asking questions about it twenty-four hours a day, the rest of your life. — Douglas Coupland

Dellosso's cleverly plotted second Jed Patrick novel (after 2015's Centralia) finds the Afghan war vet hiding with his wife, Karen, and their eight-year-old daughter, Lilly, in a cabin in the Idaho wilderness. Two months earlier, two CIA agents gave him a thumb drive containing "every damaging piece of information about the Centralia Project," the exposure of which threatens to cause a "scandal that would be talked and read about for decades to come." Then one day Jed returns to the cabin to find Karen in tears. She tells him that three armed men burst into the cabin asking for the thumb drive, but she didn't know where it was. The men took Lilly, and vowed they would return for Karen. More shocks follow. Meanwhile, CIA technician Tiffany Stockton discovers a plot to control Jed's mind in a sophisticated update of The Manchurian Candidate. Can she stop him from becomes an unwilling assassin? Dellosso expertly misdirects readers, but they should be prepared for only serviceable prose. — Publishers Weekly

Why," Comrade Yono couldn't stop himself from asking, "do you care so much about those newspapers?" "Because the Russian Revolution would never have succeeded if the Bolsheviks hadn't had their newspaper. — Eka Kurniawan