Stop Begging Quotes & Sayings

I started having some memory-loss issues. I took a neurological exam, and they said, "Well, you should stop fighting now." And I kept begging them for one more fight, one more fight, and the doctor said to me, "How much are they going to pay you?" I was supposed to fight three more times, and one would have been for a cruiser belt. So I said, "I just need to fight three more times." He said, "Listen, you can't even get hit in the head one more time, your neuro is so bad." — Mickey Rourke

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

Success in relationships takes death to the flesh. Singles stop begging for what you won't die for and couples start dying so your marriage can live. — Hope D. Blackwell

Stop begging like the desperate little slut that you are, and maybe I'll consider fucking you next time. — C.M. Stunich

I poke myself in the eye. "Would you stop touching yourself?" I drop the mascara tube on the table and pick up a tissue to wipe the smear of black I just made at the inside corner of my eyelid because I can't keep my fricking eyes off Dean.

"What's wrong, baby? You jealous? I was thinking of how hot you look." He rolls to his side. "You make a little circle with your mouth when you put your eye makeup on. It's basically begging me to stick my dick in there."

Nope, there's nothing warm and squishy about my relationship with this guy. I shoot him a disbelieving glance. "We just got done having morning sex," I remind him. I apply two quick swipes of the mascara before Dean's hand can do more damage under the bed sheets.

"That was thirty minutes ago. Since then, you've showered, waved your tits and bare ass in front of me getting dressed, and then made little blowjob circles with your mouth. So yeah, I'm horny again. Sue me. — Elle Kennedy

Stop a minute, Ambrose!" interrupted Master Nathaniel. "I've got a sudden silly whim that we should take an oath I must have read when I was a youngster in some old book ... the words have suddenly come back to me. They go like this: We (and then we say our own names), Nathaniel Chanticleer and Ambrose Honeysuckle, swear by the Living and the Dead, by the Past and the Future, by Memories and Hopes, that if a Vision comes begging at our door we will take it in and warm it at our hearth, and that we will not be wiser than the foolish nor more cunning than the simple, and that we will remember that he who rides the Wind needs must go where his Steed carries him. — Hope Mirrlees

I love you Austin, and I'm not gonna stop begging until you tell me you love me too." Michaels — A.E. Via

I think unconsciously I was afraid that if she asked me how I felt, my unleashed grief and rage would kill us all. In some unadmitted corner of myself I was already weeping and screaming and begging her not to leave me, not to go. If I started crying for real, only her comfort could make me stop, and if she died before she had finished comforting me, then I would be left to cry forever. — Jean Hegland

Grace: Outside, deep in the woods, I heard a long keening wail, and then another, as the wolves began to howl. More voices pitched in, some low and mournful, others high and short, an eerie and beautiful chorus. I knew my wolf's howl; his rich tone sang out above others as if begging me to hear it.
My heart ached inside me, torn between wanting them to stop and wishing they would go on for ever. I imagined myself there among them in the golden woods, watching them tilt their heads back and howl underneath a sky of endless stars. I blinked a tear away, feeling foolish and miserable, but I didn't go to sleep until every wolf had fallen silent. — Maggie Stiefvater

Whether it's watching a $4,000 laptop fall off the conveyor belt at airport security, contending with a software conflict that corrupted your file management system, or begging your family to stop opening those virus-carrying 'greeting cards' attached to emails, all computer owners are highly leveraged and highly vulnerable technology investors. — Douglas Rushkoff

Let me tell you girls a story, short and sweet. In high school, I was a junior varsity cheerleader dating a senior who was up for football scholarships. I'd slept with him several times willingly. One night I wasn't in the mood, but he was. So he held me down and forced me. The few people I told about it - including my best friend - pointed out what would happen to him if I told. They stressed the fact that I hadn't been a virgin, that we were dating, that we'd had sex before. So I kept quiet. I never even told my mother. That boy put bruises on my body. I was crying and begging him to stop and he didn't. That's called rape, ladies. — Tammara Webber

All those posters and PSAs and health class presentations on body image and the way you can burst blood vessels in your face and rupture your esophagus if you can't stop ramming those sno balls down your throat every night, knowing they'll have to come back up again, you sad weak girl.
Because of all this, Coach surely can't tell a girl, a sensitive, body-conscious teenage girl, to get rid of the tender little tuck around her waist, can she?
She can.
Coach can say anything.

And there's Emily, keening over the toilet bowl after practice, begging me to kick her in the gut so she can expel the rest, all that cookie dough and cool ranch, the smell making me roil. Emily, a girl made entirely of donut sticks, cheese powder, and haribo.
I kick, I do.
She would do the same for me. — Megan Abbott

I want you like this,crying out for me to release you but wanting it to go on for all eternity," he whispered against her skin. "Pleading with me to end this, begging me to never stop. It is there in your mind.I hear you, see your fantasies.I know each of them, and I will fulfill every one. — Christine Feehan

There came a point when Harry stopped trying to fight back, when the blows from the monster were too strong, too many, too fast, when he began begging the monster to stop. — Patrick Ness

After four knee surgeries and hundreds of shots injected into my knee weekly to alleviate swelling and pain, my body is begging me to stop the pounding. — Li Na

My mother once told me that holding on to the past is like walking around with a pebble in your shoe. You can still keep walking, keep moving forward, but that pebble is always there nagging at you, begging for your attention. After a while, that pebble is all you can feel. Sometimes, you just have to stop walking for a minute and get rid of it once and for all. — Ellery A. Kane

Don't go for the ones that know your worth even when you don't.
Even when you call them to pick you up because some fuck boy left you with only a few hickeys and no ride home.
Please don't pay attention to the boys who take your self hate and say 'you really don't see yourself the way others see you, do you?'
Oh god.
just don't fall in love with them.
Please, just don't.
Because it's the ones that kiss your eyelids and stretch marks that fuck you over.
It;s the ones that tell you the truth that bring you to your knees.
It's the good ones that leave you curled up in a ball for months begging for the bleeding in your gut to stop.
And it's all because they're the unforgettable ones.
The boys who leave so many marks of love on you that no one can compare.
God knows they're it.

Fuck.
You were it. — Unknown

If it's ever too much ... if the burden of me is ever too great--"
Softly, I place my hands over his lips, silently begging him to stop.
"Don't you know? You are not my burden. Never." I brush my lips lightly against his. "You? You are my gift. — J.A. DeRouen

Autumn is a season of desperate hopes. The leaves are souls begging to turn life on pause. Begging to stop, begging to take a break, hiding under smiles and childish words. — Teodora Savu

I keep begging myself to stop, and I keep playing, and this gap, this contradiction between what I want to do and what I actually do, feels like the core of my life — Andre Agassi

With a regrettable sigh he shook his head.
"I'm sorry, but this isn't going to work out."
"What the hell are you doing, Trevor?" Hank
demanded anxiously. No doubt the man
wouldn't be getting laid tonight, but Trevor
couldn't help it. He had his standards and
this woman failed them.
"Maybe we could go grab a cup of coffee
somewhere and get to know-"
He held up his hand, stopping her before she
made an even bigger fool out of herself.
"Please stop."
"But, I was only-"
"Don't beg."
"I wasn't. I was just-"
"Begging?" Trevor guessed, sighing. "I know,
but you're going to have to accept that this
would never work out."
She frowned up at him. "I wasn't begging. I
was just going to suggest that we should-"
"Look," he said, reaching for the door, "this
s just getting sad. I'm just going to go before
things get out of hand. — R.L. Mathewson

Maybe you've been there. You go into a police or sheriff's station after a gang of black kids forced you to stop your car while they smashed out your windows with garbage cans; a strung-out addict made you kneel at gunpoint on the floor of a grocery store, and before you knew it the begging words rose uncontrollably in your throat; some bikers pulled you from the back of a bar and sat on your arms while one of them unzippered his blue jeans. Your body is still hot with shame, your voice full of thumbtacks and strange to your own ears, your eyes full of guilt and self-loathing while uniformed people walk casually by you with Styrofoam cups of coffee in their hands. Then somebody types your words on a report and you realize that this is all you will get. — James Lee Burke

I used to pray you know, pray to God that He would somehow stop it. All the nights of listening to my mother scream and things breaking. Of holding my brother and sister and listening to them cry and begging me to stop it.'
My voice is slow and steady like a freight train at night.
'I was too young, and we were always told that they'd put us in foster homes where people would rape us if we ever said anything. So we explained away the bruises and my mom wore big sunglasses whenever she left the house. And we invented car accidents if the bruising was too bad to cover with make-up. — Emily Andrews

He painted until the hours towered above him, pressing down upon his body and begging him to stop. — Gwendolyn Womack

A beggar always remains a beggar. Africa, stop begging - you have what it takes to solve your problem. — T. B. Joshua

She remembers talking to God a lot right after everything happened with Luke. She remembers crying and asking why, over and over. Asking for help, for strength, for understanding. Apologizing for what she did wrong. Talking through everything she could have, should have done differently. Begging for the torment to stop.
She remembers belief and trust slowly turning sour. Still, she kept talking to God out of habit. And because she didn't have anyone else to talk to. At night, in the dark sanctuary of her bedroom, alone, she could say the things she'd been keeping quiet. But she stopped expecting an answer. Stopped hoping for one.
After a while, God felt as distant, as uncaring, as everyone else.
And her prayers faded away. — Kathryn Holmes

It takes money to make money, even begging. Humans are herd animals. If a stranger's bleeding to death beside the road, most people won't stop to offer a Band-Aid. But get the ball rolling with a couple Good Samaritans, and before you know it you've got more eager philanthropists than you know what to do with. — Sol Luckman

How often have we all come to that crucial point in a painting where it is practically 'begging' us to stop before we ruin it? We have all had that experience and we risk failure, or at the least mediocrity, if we ignore the voice in our art. — Richard Schmid

I began absolutely non-stop tormenting my parents, begging them on a daily basis to move there. — Taylor Swift

And what was she begging for anyway? For him to stop, or to keep going until she dissolved? She — Jennifer Bene

Please," he says. "I'm begging you to stop."
I still.
"I can't stomach your pain," he says. "I can feel it so strongly and it's making me crazy- please," he says to me. "Don't be sad. Or hurt. Or guilty. You've done nothing wrong."
"I'm sorry-"
"Don't be sorry, either," he says. "God, the only reason I'm not going to kill Kent for this is because I know it would only upset you more. — Tahereh Mafi

As dangerous as Komatsu's plan might be, he could not possibly stop rewriting the novella at this point. He might have been able to give up on the idea before he started working on it, but that was out of the question now. He was up to his neck in it. He was breathing the air of its world, adapting to its gravity. The story's essence had permeated every part of him, to the walls of his viscera. Now the story was begging him to rework it: he could feel it pleading with him for help. This was something that only Tengo could do. It was a job well worth doing, a job he simply had to do. — Haruki Murakami

Stop begging God to increase your territory when you can't even maintain the territory you already have. Work with what you got first. — Nakia R. Laushaul

Blake held out a hand to Livia, who felt like she was cheating on an exam as she took it.
"I can't stop looking at you," he whispered. "The candlelight, the dress, the curls." He pressed a reverent kiss on her forehead.
Livia inhaled his cologne. Maybe he'd borrowed Cole's, and the warm scent made Blake a present begging to be opened. — Debra Anastasia

At the end of the day, I'd love to see children stop begging their parents to go to the circus. That's what would make me most happy. — K.A. Applegate

This was not the time to say "I don't know." The brothers had begging, hungry looks, like dogs waiting to be fed. They wanted an answer. It would be nice if it was the right answer, but if it couldn't be, then any answer would do, because then we would stop being worried ... and then his mind caught alight.
That's what the gods are! An answer that will do! Because there's food to be caught and babies to be born and life to be lived and so there is no time for big, complicated, and worrying answers! Please give us a simple answer, so that we don't have to think, because if we think, we might find answers that don't fit the way we want the world to be. — Terry Pratchett

Dawson ... It's a whispered plea, but I don't know if I'm asking for more or begging him to stop. — Jasinda Wilder

You are my first best friend, my first crush, my first kiss, my first dance partner, and my first love. Please don't be my first heartbreak. I want you to be my first everything, Josh. Please, don't let it be too late. Please, let me love you because I don't think I can stop even if you tell me too. — Andrea Michelle

Little kids I don't mind. Every kid wants a pony. It's grown-ups that get my robe in a knot. Stop with the begging, okay? Adore me for a change. Or give thanks. I like gratitude. Or ask for guidance. But oh, no. It's always the pony. — Ron Koertge

Stop, or I'll shoot," the voice cried, scared, almost begging.

Caine stopped. Drake stood beside him.

"Shoot?" Caine demanded, sounding puzzled. "Why on earth would you shoot me?"

"That's we're opposed to do."

Caine laughed. "You can't even say it right. Who are you, anyway? If you're going to shoot me, I should know your name."

"Josh," the answer came. "It's me, Josh."

"It's me Josh," Caine mimicked.

Drake snarled, "You better step off, me Josh, or me Whip Hand is going to hurt you. — Michael Grant

While walking back to the highway I stop, choke back a sob, my throat tightens. "I just want to..." Facing the skyline, through all the baby talk, I murmur, "keep the game going." As I stand, frozen in position, an old woman emerges behind a Threepenny Opera poster at a deserted bus stop and she's homeless and begging, hobbling over, her face covered with sores that look like bugs, holding out a shaking red hand. "Oh will you please go away?" I sigh. She tells me to get a haircut. — Bret Easton Ellis