Quotes & Sayings About What Wrong With Me

What parents and teachers and caregivers did with me that actually worked and a lot of that was the old fashion 50s upbringing. They just gave the instruction when I did something wrong - life was more structured. So basically it's [my work] based on experiences with me that worked and it was teachers and parents that made me have those experiences. — Temple Grandin

I'm the original hunter-down-of-fabulous-things. Twenty years ago I sat down and decided that I would create a really wonderful image, an unforgettable image. And now I'm kind of stuck with it. It's like when I don't wear my fringy, gypsy stuff, people kind of look at me like, 'What's wrong? — Stevie Nicks

People seem to be having these awesome sex lives and I'm just trying to find a life partner to go apple picking with. What's wrong with me? — Mindy Kaling

I never read. I've never read one book ... I just can't do it. Something's wrong with me. I have what they call now is 'ADD,' like I'll read and all of a sudden I'll be thinking about shopping or ... I'm not there. I drift off. I get crazy, so I don't even bother. — Steve Jones

When other girls had tea parties on the playground, I brought out my secondhand Ouija board and attempted to raise the dead. While my classmates gave book reports on The Wind In The Willows or Charlotte's Web, I did mine on tattered, paperback copies of Stephen King novels that I'd borrowed from my grandmother. Instead of Sweet Valley High, I read books about zombies and vampires. Eventually, my third grade teacher called my mother in to discuss her growing concerns over my behavior, and my mom nodded blithely, but failed to see what the problem was. When Mrs. Johnson handed her my recent book report on Pet Sematary,, my mom wrinkled her forehead with concern and disapproval. "Oh, I see,"she said disappointingly, as she turned to me. "You spelled 'cemetery' wrong." Then I explained that Stephen King had spelled it that way on purpose, and she nodded, saying, "Ah. Well, good enough for me. — Jenny Lawson

My audience expects cold, hard truth. They don't expect me to dance around it. They expect me to say it the way they think it. That's part of my brand. If I don't do that, then my audience goes, 'What's up? Is he sick or something? What's wrong with him?' The entity has a brand. — Roland Martin

I'm sort of of the belief that people kill themselves from the inside out. When they're unhappy with what they're doing, or not achieving things - when your focus is off-kilter. The thing that keeps me ticking is my values. And I maintain them, because they're worthy. I like to wake up and feel I've done no wrong. I like that feeling. — John Lydon

When I started writing seriously, I made the major discovery of my life - that I am right and everybody else is wrong if they disagree with me. What a great thing to learn: Don't listen to anyone else, and always go your own way. — Ray Bradbury

And even my sense of identity was wrapped in a namelessness often hard to penetrate, as we have just seen I think ... Yes, even then, when already all was fading, waves and particles, there could be no things but nameless things, no names but thingless names. I say that now, but after all what do I know now about then, now when the icy words hail down upon me, the icy meanings, and the world dies too, foully named. All I know is what the words know, and the dead things, and that makes a handsome little sum, with a beginning, a middle and an end as in the well-built phrase and the long sonata of the dead. And truly it little matters what I say, this or that or any other thing. Saying is inventing. Wrong, very rightly wrong. You invent nothing, you think you are inventing, you think you are escaping, and all you do is stammer out your lesson, the remnants of a pensum one day got by heart and long forgotten, life without tears, as it is wept. To hell with it anyway. — Samuel Beckett

Asking isn't what I had in mind," Sicarius said.
"Yes, I can see that." Amaranthe planted a hand on his chest, fingers splayed. "Why don't you give Yara and me a few minutes alone to discuss this? I'll brief you on whatever we decide to do before we do it. And you can loiter nearby in case anything goes wrong."
His face didn't soften exactly - and he gave that hand a long look before meeting Amaranthe's eyes - but the hostility he'd been oozing did seem to lessen. "Assassins don't loiter," he said.
The comment startled Evrial, and she wondered if she'd heard it correctly. The man hadn't uttered much that could be classified as humor, not with her around anyway. Maybe he was simply feeling indignant.But Amaranthe smiled. "What do you call it?"
"Standing. Purposefully. — Lindsay Buroker

I really feel that we're not giving children enough credit for distinguishing what's right and what's wrong. I, for one, devoured fairy tales as a little girl. I certainly didn't believe that kissing frogs would lead me to a prince, or that eating a mysterious apple would poison me, or that with the magical "Bibbity-Bobbity-Boo" I would get a beautiful dress and a pumpkin carriage. I also don't believe that looking in a mirror and saying "Candyman, Candyman, Candyman" will make some awful serial killer come after me. I believe that many children recognize Harry Potter for what it is, fantasy literature. I'm sure there will always be some that take it too far, but that's the case with everything. I believe it's much better to engage in dialog with children to explain the difference between fantasy and reality. Then they are better equipped to deal with people who might have taken it too far. — J.K. Rowling

It's ok, it's alright, nothing's wrong
tell Mr. man with impossible plans to just leave me alone
in the place where I make no mistakes
in the place where I have what it takes — Elliott Smith

The only thumbnail you'll get from me is this: no one knows what's really wrong with you but you; no one can find a cure for it but you; no one but you can identify it as a cure; and once you find it, no one but you can do anything about it. — Theodore Sturgeon

Fix me, this thing, what I've done- there's something wrong with me, Noah, fix it."
"I can't."
"Why not?"
"Because you're not broken. — Michelle Hodkin

For me the poem and the poetry open mic isn't about competition and it never will be. Honestly? It's wrong. The open mic is about 1 poet, one fellow human being up on a stage or behind a podium sharing their work regardless of what form or style they bring to it. In other words? The guy with the low slam score is more than likely a far better poet-writer than the guy who actually won. But who are you? I ? Or really anyone else to judge them? The Poetry Slam has become an overgrown, over used monopoly on American literature and poetry and is now over utilized by the academic & public school establishments. And over the years has sadly become the "McDonalds Of Poetry". We can only hope that the same old stale atmosphere of it all eventually becomes or evolves into something new that translates to and from the written page and that gives new poets with different styles & authentic voices a chance to share their work too. — R.M. Engelhardt

She took a breath before she said the words she'd been waiting almost nine years to say. 'So what was wrong with me? — Priscilla Glenn

God, you're beautiful," he murmured.
Somehow that made her even madder. "You are such a dick. Guys like you don't find girls like me beautiful." Spitting fire, she glared up at him.
He leaned into her, loving the way her eyes widened in awareness. "Guys like me?"
"Yes." She slapped both hands against his chest and shoved, snarling when he didn't move an inch. "Guys who spend hours in the gym, probably only eat protein, look like action movie stars, and probably date models who weigh three pounds."
He frowned. "What's wrong with protein?"
"Nothing," she shouted.
Somehow he'd made her so angry she'd stopped making any sense. "Your beauty isn't exactly a matter of opinion, darlin'. You're stunning."
"Stop playing with me," she almost growled.
"I haven't started playing with you, and when I do, you'll fucking know it," he shot back, — Rebecca Zanetti

I went to see my doctor ... Doctor Vidi-boom-ba. Yeah ... I told him once, "Doctor, every morning when I get up and look in the mirror I feel like throwing up. What's wrong with me?" He said, "I don't know, but your eyesight is perfect." — Rodney Dangerfield

I shudder, I see the love, I'm doomed, my heart melts again - can't stand not to be in love, can't stand not to be melting with real tenderness, childlike need sweetnesses, that's what's wrong with me. — Allen Ginsberg

When we had been married five years, we had six children. What, in God's name, was wrong with me? — Phil Donahue

I'm not sure anybody ever gets completely over their first love, and that still rankles. Part of me still wants to know what was wrong with me. What I was lacking. — Stephen King

What is wrong with me i just bought a bag of weed from an infant. — Dave Chappelle

The '60s were a very turbulent time for colored people. Being away at war was a chance for them to escape the racial bullshit for a while. It was a shame it came down to that kind of choice.
Don't get me wrong. There were plenty of guys, who tried to bring that racial crap over there with them. However, when the shit hits the fan, you don't give a damn about who's standing next to you, saving your ass. You certainly don't care what color his skin is or what language he speaks. All that matters to you is that he is an American G.I. Government Issued, baby! — Jason Medina

Normally, I'd lie and connive and do whatever necessary to make you take me into the south."
"But ... "
More tears began to flow. "But that thing ... "
"Thing? What thing?"
"That thing ... in one's head ... that tells you when something would be wrong to do. It won't let me do it."
Feeling a sudden high level of annoyance, Gwenvael carefully asked, "Do you mean your ... conscience?"
Her tears turned into hysterical sobs, and she went down on her side, her head dropping into his lap.
"Dagmar! Everyone has a conscience."
"I don't!"
"Of course you do."
"I'm a politician, Gwenvael! Of course, I don't have a conscience. At least I didn't. Now I'm cursed with one. And it's your fault!"
Somehow he knew that last bit would happen. — G.A. Aiken

If I were surrounded by people who always approved of me, I wouldn't need such a deep relationship with my own sense of right and wrong. And you know what that means? It means that other people's approval is actually a hindrance, more than a helper, when it comes to self-discovery. — Vironika Tugaleva

I'm not trying to be self-righteous about that, but I am literally the best friend a person could ask for and I am a good listener and anybody who doesn't want to be my friend should take a long, hard look at him/herself and whisper, What is wrong with me? Why was I born without the capacity to love? — Katie Heaney

Whenever I hear people clucking about the decline of civilization, what's wrong with young people, how vulgar popular culture is, how confusing and frightening they find the internet, alarms go off. I know I'm around somebody whose hinges are rusting. Death will be bad enough, but for me, this early harbinger is more fearsome, because a part of one's spirit and openness and ability to learn and grow disappears. — Jon Katz

I fear depression - intensely. It is by far the most painful ailment I have ever faced. It is the thing that slammed into me, ran me over repeatedly, and then kicked me in the head when I was down. I struggled for change, for understanding, to figure out what was "wrong" with me - no one knew. Or at least, they didn't guess correctly. — Jeannie Davide-Rivera

I keep thinking it's going to come back when I least expect it. When I'm at my happiest. So I'm always afraid to be happy."
Zane looks out at the horizon. "You know, there are so many things that can go wrong in this world, you could spend your whole life worrying about them and forget to appreciate every moment you have with someone. Then, you're like, 'God, why wasn't I thankful for what I had when I had it?'" He glances over at me. "You know what the secret to a happy life is?" I shake my head, silent tears falling down my cheeks.
He squeezes my hand. "No regrets. Just live in the moment. — Nicole Christie

The movie starts and he motions for me to sit down next to him. I don't, though. I pat my lap so he'll lay his head down, and then I thread my fingers into his hair. He tenses immediately. "What's wrong?" I ask. "No one has ever done that before," he says quietly. He rolls to face the TV so I can't see his face. "I'm going to do it all the time," I promise. And I mean it. I'm going to do it every time I'm with him. He deserves to have someone show him how wonderful he is. I can tell when he goes to sleep. He gets soft in my lap and his face gets heavy against my thigh. But I don't stop rubbing. I keep touching him, because giving him comfort feels better than any kiss I have ever had. — Tammy Falkner

I'd like to pet that jungle cat, rub his silky fur and make him purr ... I slapped myself mentally. Jungle cat? Make him purr? What was wrong with me tonight? — Ilsa Madden-Mills

Now you mustn't think that I don't have any ideas for novels in my head. I've got ideas for ten novels in my head. But with every idea I have, I already foresee the wrong novels I would write, because I also have critical ideas in my head; I've got a full theory of the perfect novel, and that's what stumps me. — Italo Calvino

In principle, there's nothing wrong with the concept of an infographic. What concerns me is the types of things that people are doing with them. They get far off topic, or the fact checking is really poor. The infographic may be neat, but if the information it's based on is simply wrong, then it's misleading people. — Matt Cutts

October twenty-second ... " Lee read, trailing off as she reached the year. Her insides went cold. She whirled around, her voice quavering. "What is this? Don't screw with me!"
"What is it?" Nasser asked?
"The date is wrong." He knew it, of course. He had to know.
"How wrong?"
"Seven years wrong!" Lee shrieked. "What is this? Where am I?"
Nasser opened his mouth, but all that came out was a series of stammers. Filo glared at him, then turned to Lee. "You want to know what's happening?"
"Yes," Lee sobbed, nodding feebly. "Please."
"Okay," Filo offered. "What do you know about faeries? — Kaye Thornbrugh

Have you kissed many boys before?" he asked quietly.
His question brought my mind back into focus. I raised an eyebrow. "Boys? That's an assumption."
Noah laughed, the sound low and husky. "Girls, then?"
"No."
"Not many girls? Or not many boys?"
"Neither," I said. Let him make of that what he would.
"How many?"
"Why - "
"I am taking away that word. You are no longer allowed to use it. How many?"
My cheeks flushed, but my voice was steady as I answered. "One."
At this, Noah leaned in impossibly closer, the slender muscles in his forearm flexing as he bent his elbow to bring himself nearer to me, almost touching. I was heady with the proximity of him and grew legitimately concerned that my heart might explode. Maybe Noah wasn't asking. Maybe I didn't mind. I closed my eyes and felt Noah's five o' clock graze my jaw, and the faintest whisper of his lips at my ear.
"He was doing it wrong. — Michelle Hodkin

I don't come up with ideas, they come to me. I write them down and try to convey what's wrong with me to the audience as best I can. — Iliza Shlesinger

My breath catches, responding to an unfamiliar pull in my chest, an ache in my soul. I shouldn't miss him, but I do; this boy who had every right to pull that trigger, and instead threw himself between me and death. This boy, the only one who believes I'm not what they say I am what I believed I was; a soldier without a soul, a girl with no heart to break. He's the only one who's proved me wrong. — Amie Kaufman

So did you actually try to kill yourself? Or did that weird bitch just make up the whole thing?'
Silently, I held up my left arm, wrist facing Emily. She crossed her arms and kept her lips squished together as she examined me for a moment, sizing up those three perfect scars. Finally, she said, 'You know that you're supposed to cut down to kill yourself, right? You did it wrong.'
I looked at Emily and thought about what would have happened if I'd cut the other way. Or what wouldn't have happened. Char wouldn't have broken up with me. Alex wouldn't be mad at me. Pippa wouldn't hate me.
And I never would have met Vicky. I would never have had my first kiss. I would never have worn rhinestone pumps. I would never have heard Big Audio Dynamite. I would never have discovered Start. I would never have known I could be a DJ.
Emily Wallace didn't know what she was talking about. She never had.
You did it wrong, she said.
'No,' I said to her. 'I didn't. — Leila Sales

Roxane: His face is like yours, burning with spirit and imagination. He is proud and noble and young and fearless and beautiful-
Cyrano:(losing all his colour.) Beautiful!
Roxane: Yes. What's wrong?
Cyrano: With me? Nothing. It's only ... only ... (Displaying his bandaged hand, with a little smile.) This fatal wound. — Edmond Rostand

What are you doing?" she asked.
I don't know. Instinct not logic currently dictated his actions. But he didn't admit this aloud.
"Do you always ask so many questions?"
"Only when I'm trying to understand what's going on."
"Isn't it obvious?"
Confusion clouded her gaze. "No."
Did she not sense the attraction between them? Of course she didn't. She
was a simple human. She couldn't know how his bear chuffed at her
nearness. How the scent of her aroused him. How he wanted to lay claim
to her body. What the (deuce) is wrong with me?
Apparently, his grandmother wondered the same thing. "Reid Alexander Carver, what are you doing manhandling our guest?"
Oops, caught harboring naughty thoughts and jolted back to sanity. What am I doing? — Eve Langlais

Please do, however, allow me to deliver one very personal message. It is something that I always keep in mind while I am writing fiction. I have never gone so far as to write it on a piece of paper and paste it to the wall: Rather, it is carved into the wall of my mind, and it goes something like this:
"Between a high, solid wall and an egg that breaks against it, I will always stand on the side of the egg."
Yes, no matter how right the wall may be and how wrong the egg, I will stand with the egg. Someone else will have to decide what is right and what is wrong; perhaps time or history will decide. If there were a novelist who, for whatever reason, wrote works standing with the wall, of what value would such works be? — Haruki Murakami

After watching so many of the other women find satisfaction-joy, even-in activities like these, I sometimes wondered what was wrong with me that I only found more excuses not to join them. I felt like I did back in high school, not wanting to be a cheerleader or head up the homecoming committee-I didn't have a bubbly personality and didn't care about the theme of a prom — Amy Hatvany

Yet, ironically, it is her very wretchedness that makes me pity her so. I don't know what's wrong with me. I don't know what to do! — Christopher Pike

He paused and let out a little sigh. Then I'm saying it wrong, because it has everything to do with you. I want what Hades and Persephone had, and I can't do it without you. The only time the queen of the Everneath has been overthrown is when an Everliving has found his perfect match. I've spent my whole life - and it's a long one, trust me - looking for my perfect match, and it's you. I knew you were different from the first moment I met you. The first moment you placed your hands on mine. You remember? — Brodi Ashton

Wow, Angela and Holly," Ash said, sounding awed. "Hot."
"Excuse me, what is wrong with you?" Kami demanded. "Other people's sexuality is not your spectator sport."
Ash paused. "Of course," he said. "But - "
"No!" Kami exclaimed. "No buts. That's my best friend you're talking about. Your first reaction should not be 'Hot.' "
"It's not an insult," Ash protested.
"Oh, okay," Kami said. "In that case, you're going to give me a minute. I'm picturing you and Jared. Naked. Entwined."
There was a pause.
Then Jared said, "He is probably my half brother, you know."
"I don't care," Kami informed him. "All you are to me are sex objects that I choose to imagine bashing together at random. Oh, there you go again, look at that, nothing but Lynburn skin as far as the mind's eye can see. Masculine groans fill the air, husky and..."
"Stop it," Ash said in a faint voice. "That isn't fair. — Sarah Rees Brennan

I was just finishing up my drink then I was off to get the night bus.' Carol grinned. 'Your sophistication never ceases to amaze me. What's wrong with a taxi?' 'You get a better class of nutter on the night bus. I blend in perfectly — Val McDermid

My dearest friend, Myron Bolitar, though "friend" seems an inadequate word to describe our relationship, worries about this aspect of my personality. He feels there is something "missing" inside of me. He traces it back to what my own mother did to my father. But does the origin matter? This is what I am. I am quite content this way. He claims that I don't get it. He is wrong. I do understand the need for companionship. My favorite times are when he and I sit around together and simply discuss life or watch television or dissect a sporting event - and then, when we are done, I go to bed with a gorgeous body and, uh, gorge. Does — Harlan Coben

What did your mom say?"
"She said I better not be pregnant."
Janie snorts. "What the hell is wrong with our parents, anyway? Wait
you're not, are you?"
"Of course not! Sheesh, Janers! I may not have gotten the best grades in school, but I'm not stupid. You know I'm on the Pill. And his Jimmy doesn't get near me without a raincoat, yadamean? Ain't nothin' getting through my little fortress! — Lisa McMann

Most of the time Marilyn's mother remained unconscious, her breath labored and erratic. One morning before dawn, she suddenly opened her eyes and looked clearly and intently at her daughter. "You know," she whispered softly, "all my life I thought something was wrong with me." Shaking her head slightly, as if to say, "What a waste," she closed her eyes and drifted back into a coma. — Tara Brach

What is universal can be surprising. Over time you find the kind of stuff which has people thinking 'That is just something that occurred to me ... there's something wrong with me', is in fact stuff that is universal. — Dylan Moran

And the truth is that I'm not, Ed, is what I wanted to tell you. I'm not arty like everyone says who doesn't know me, I don't paint, I can't draw, I play no instrument, I can't sing. I'm not in plays, I wanted to say, I don't write poems. I can't dance except tipsy at dances. I'm not athletic, I'm not a goth or a cheerleader, I'm not treasurer or co-captain. I'm not gay and out and proud, I'm not that kid from Sri Lanka, not a triplet, a prep, a drunk, a genius, a hippie, a Christian, a slut, not even one of those super-Jewish girls with a yarmulke gang wishing everyone a happy Sukkoth. I'm not anything, this is what I realized ... I like movies, everyone knows I do
I love them
but I will never be in charge of one because my ideas are stupid and wrong in my head. There's nothing different about that, nothing fascinating, interesting, worth looking at. — Daniel Handler

Give me the right people and I don't much care what organization you give me. Good things will happen. Give me the wrong people and it doesn't matter what you do with the organization. Bad things will happen. — Colin Powell

In the spring of 2009, I was the 217th person ever to be diagnosed with anti-NMDA-receptor autoimmune encephalitis. Just a year later, that figure had doubled. Now the number is in the thousands. Yet Dr. Bailey, considered one of the best neurologists in the country, had never heard of it. When we live in a time when the rate of misdiagnoses has shown no improvement since the 1930s, the lesson here is that it's important to always get a second opinion.
While he may be an excellent doctor in many respects, Dr. Bailey is also, in some ways, a perfect example of what is wrong with medicine. I was just a number to him (and if he saw thirty-five patients a day, as he told me, that means I was one of a very large number). He is a by-product of a defective system that forces neurologists to spend five minutes with X number of patients a day to maintain their bottom line. It's a bad system. Dr. Bailey is not the exception to the rule. He is the rule. — Susannah Cahalan

There is a difficulty with only one person changing. People call that person a great saint or a great mystic or a great leader, and they say, 'Well, he's different from me - I could never do it.' What's wrong with most people is that they have this block - they feel they could never make a difference, and therefore, they never face the possibility, because it is too disturbing, too frightening. — David Bohm

1. Ask God for light.
I want to look at my day with God's eyes, not merely my own.
2. Give thanks.
The day I have just lived is a gift from God. Be grateful for it.
3. Review the day.
I carefully look back on the day just completed, being guided by the Holy Spirit.
4. Face your shortcomings.
I face up to what is wrong-in my life and in me.
5. Look toward the day to come.
I ask where I need God in the day to — Jim Manney

Know what I think?" said Perry. "I think there must be something wrong with
us. To do what we did."'
"Did what?"
"Out there."
Dick dropped the binoculars into a leather case, a luxurious receptacle initialed
H. W. C. He was annoyed. Annoyed as hell. Why the hell couldn't Perry shut up? Christ
Jesus, what damn good did it do, always dragging the goddam thing up? It really was
annoying. Especially since they'd agreed, sort of, not to talk about the goddam thing.
Just forget it.
"There's got to be something wrong with somebody who'd do a thing like that,"
Perry said.
"Deal me out, baby," Dick said. "I'm a normal." And Dick meant what he said.
He thought himself as balanced, as sane as anyone - maybe a bit smarter than the
average fellow, that's all. But Perry - there was, in Dick's opinion, "something wrong"
with Little Perry. — Truman Capote

What I think after reading the script and seeing where the story goes, I go with my instincts on the character. If my instincts are wrong the director and the producers will guide me in the right direction. That's just kind of how I take on any role, be it a fantasy movie or not. — Josh Hutcherson

People hate me for whatever reasons they come up with, or they hate me because their friends said they should. What can I do about it? What can I do about people who look at things the wrong way? At the end of the day it's like, 'You're wrong, I'm just a skateboarder. How can I help you?' — Ryan Sheckler

As an atheist, I see nothing "wrong" in believing in a God. I don't think there is a God, but belief in him does no harm. If it helps you in any way, then that's fine with me. It's when belief starts infringing on other people's rights when it worries me. I would never deny your right to believe in a God. I would just rather you didn't kill people who believe in a different God, say. Or stone someone to death because your rulebook says their sexuality is immoral. It's strange that anyone who believes that an all-powerful all-knowing, omniscient power responsible for everything that happens, would also want to judge and punish people for what they are. — Ricky Gervais

Oh God, what's wrong with me? Why does nothing ever work out? — Helen Fielding

Now I'm dreaming, will I ever find you now?
I walk in circles but I'll never figure out
What I mean to you, do I belong
I try to fight this but I know I'm not that strong
And I feel so helpless here
Watch my eyes are filled with fear
Tell me do you feel the same
Hold me in your arms again
I need your love
I need your time
When everything's wrong
You make it right
I feel so high
I come alive
I need to be free with you tonight
I need your love — Ellie Goulding

I went to say no, but I winced as I pulled my tooth out of my lip.
I was absolutely hopeless. In a two minute period my front curls had
started to go straight due to my constant brushing them behind my ears
and I was pretty sure my lip was bleeding. Frustrated I pushed myself off of
the couch with a huff and walked around the glass coffee table to head for
the kitchen.
"I've made you angry."
"No."
Darren got up and cut me off in the middle of the room. "Yes, I did.
You're angry with me."
"No, not with you."
"Then what's wrong?"
"I'm angry with myself. — Kaitlin Scott

The mobile phone, the fax, emails. Call me old fashioned, but what's wrong with a chain of beacons? — Harry Hill

Nope. You didn't miss much." "Somehow, I find that hard to believe." Thalia raised her shoulders in an attempt to sit up, but settled back down with a groan. Clarke gently placed a rolled-up blanket behind her. "Thanks," she muttered and surveyed Clarke for a moment before she spoke again. "Okay, what's wrong?" Clarke gave her a bemused smile. "Nothing! I'm just so happy you're feeling better." "Please. You can't hide anything from me. You know I always manage to get your secrets out of you," Thalia deadpanned. "You can start by telling me where you found the medicine." "Octavia — Kass Morgan

Tell me what's wrong with society
When everywhere I look I see
Rich guys driving big SUV's
While kids are starving in the streets
No one cares
No one likes to share
I guess life's unfair — Simple Plan

What seems wrong to you is right for him
What is poison to one is honey to someone else.
Purity and impurity, sloth and diligence in worship,
These mean nothing to Me.
I am apart from all that.
Ways of worshipping are not to be ranked as better
or worse than one another.
Hindus do Hindu things.
The Dravidian Muslims in India do what they do.
It's all praise, and it's all right.
It's not I that's glorified in acts of worship.
It's the worshippers! I don't hear
the words they say. I look inside at the humility.
That broken-open lowliness is the Reality,
not the language! Forget phraseology.
I want burning, burning.
Be Friends
with your burning. Burn up your thinking
and your forms of expression! — Karen Armstrong

We have, each of us, a story that is uniquely ours, a narrative arc that we can walk with purpose once we figure out what it is. It's the opposite to living our lives episodically, where each day is only tangentially connected to the next, where we are ourselves the only constants linking yesterday to tomorrow. There is nothing wrong with that, and I don't want to imply that there is by saying how much this shocked me
just that it felt so suddenly, painfully right to think that I have tapped into my Long Tale, that I have set my feet on the path I want to walk the rest of my life, and that it is a path of stories and writing and that no matter how many oceans I cross or how transient I feel in any given place, I am still on my Tale's Road, because having tapped it, having found it, the following is inevitable ... — Amal El-Mohtar

I was wrong." Taz whispered against her soft skin as he tried to process what in the hell was going on with him. "It's not me that's dangerous, it's you. — Avery Flynn

Hey amygdala, what's wrong with a nice vignette that features me enjoying a warm day on a Florida beach — Rick Gatzby

It then occurs to me that I am mentally unstable.
So I decided to close my office door and go online. Maybe I can do some research and find out what's wrong with my personality and then fix it. — Augusten Burroughs

What? No heartbeat? Huh. Funny. Moving on, the bigger problem is why do I have circles under my eyes?' "And he'd say, 'Wait a second. Did you hear me? No heart!' And we'd be all 'Yes, yes, we heard you. But other than missing a major organ, what's wrong with me?' And then he'd go on and on about the whole no-heart thing, and then I would try to distract him by doing that dance I do - you know, the one that looks like the running man. . . . But before I finish my entire routine, the doctor would be texting the CIA to tell them about my lack of heart, and the rounds of involuntary government testing would begin. — Brodi Ashton

He was breathing heavily. "I honestly don't understand what's wrong with you," he said. "You're telling me to pack my bags, to leave our house, knowing you're going to have a baby?"
"And this surprises you why? Have you seen what's been happening in our house?"
"Stop talking to me like this in our bed, Tatiana. My white flag is up," said Alexander. "I have no more."
"My white flag is up, too, Shura," she said. "You know when mine went up? June 22, 1941. — Paullina Simons

What he felt during his Spanish encounter with left-wing anti-Christianity was similar to his reactions to the anti-Christianity of the right. The "novelty and shock of the Nazis", Auden wrote, and the blitheness with which Hitler's acolytes dismissed Christianity "on the grounds that to love one's neighbor as oneself was a command fit only for effeminate weaklings", pushed him inexorably toward unavoidable questions. "If, as I am convinced, the Nazis are wrong and we are right, what is it that validates our values and invalidates theirs?" The answer to this question, he wrote later, was part of what "brought me back to the church. — Ross Douthat

I know a lot of actors have all these expectations and believe that one thing should lead to another thing, and that's probably the right way to build a career. I don't know what's wrong with me - I just don't think like that! — Melanie Lynskey

I think we should probably get Vanessa out of the Quiet Box to help us. What do you guys say?'
'Absolutely,' Newel affirmed. 'Best idea I've heard all day.'
'I'll second that,' Doren said gladly.
Seth gave the satyrs a doubtful scowl. 'Wait a minute. You guys just think she's pretty.'
'I've been around a long time,' Newel said. 'Vanessa Santoro is not jut pretty.'
'He's right,' Doren agreed. 'She's walking dynamite. My pulse is rising just talking about her.'
'She also might be a traitor,' Seth stressed.
'The lethal temptress,' Newel said with relish. 'Even better.'
'It will definitely spice up the adventure,' Doren encouraged.
'I'm obviously talking to wrong guys,' Seth sighed.
'Believe me,' Newel said cockily. 'you're talking to the right guys. We've been chasing babes since the world was flat.'
Seth rolled his eyes. — Brandon Mull

When people start to write articles about what might be wrong with the 'Today' show you know where you should point the finger, point it at me because I have been there the longest. And it's my responsibility. — Matt Lauer

GET IN he says, getting in on the driver side. I get in with no questions. Okay. This is a bad movie waiting to happen-I'm getting in a car with a guy I just met today who is keeping secrets from me. What the hell is wrong with me? I'm too scared to speak or ask or run away, though. So I just get in and put on my seat belt. I am so stupid. — Sara Daniell

The question to ask about education is not 'What can I do with it?' That is the wrong question because it concentrates on instrumental values and reduces everything to a useful art. The right question is rather 'What can it do to me? — Arthur F. Holmes

Celeste met me halfway, swinging her branch with each step. "What's wrong?"
"Nothing. Just not feeling well, I guess."
"Do. Not. Puke," she ordered. "Especially not on me. — Kiera Cass

The kiddos next to me were starting to sob, too. "Man up. I mean Devil up, all of you," I snapped. "Did I teach you to sympathize this way? What's wrong with you? — Cameron Jace

I discovered a new thing in the Lord's Prayer that kind of hit me. "on earth as it is heaven" to me it means whatever you take out into the world is what you're going to draw out. like those days when you're all yang and no yin, and you're fighting with people inside, and you can't calm yourself down, and suddenly you're pulled over by the cops. everything goes wrong in the same day because you created it. so, if you get heaven within you, it'll be all around you. if hell is within you, it'll be around you. it's always created here first. — Jim Carrey

Some people
Never find the right kind of love
you know, the kind that steals
your breath away.
Like diving into a snowmelt.
The kind that jolts your heart,
sets it beating apace.
An anxious hiccuping of hummingbirds wings.
The kind that makes every terrible minute apart feel like hours.
Days.
Years.
Some people flit from one insane possibility to the next.
Never experincing the connection of two people.
rocked by destiny.
Never knowing what it means to love someone else,
more than themselves.
More than life itself, or the promise of something better.
Beyond this world,
More even (forgive me!) than god.
Lucky me, I found the right kind of love.
With the wrong person. — Ellen Hopkins

Scotty, what's wrong?" For a moment, Scott ignored the sleepy, querulous voice of the man occupying the other half of his bed. Then he turned back from the window to look at the guy whose name he couldn't remember for the life of him and said, "Nothing, just a nightmare. Sorry. Go back to sleep." "Maybe I don't want to sleep now," the man pouted. Scott shrugged. "Then get dressed and go home. Makes me no nevermind." "Well, I never," the man huffed. "I guess I might as well. Looks like nothing more's going to be happening here." With a shrug, Scott grabbed his robe then put it on as he strode out of the bedroom. When he was downstairs in the kitchen, he started a pot of coffee, sighing — Edward Kendrick

My mum had a very strong moral code, which I kind of came with. I never really had to be told what was right or wrong - I knew. I was very mature from early on and I was a very good girl, so she never had any trouble with me. — Gloria Estefan

It distresses me somewhat to hear a person say, "I am a born-again Christian." What's wrong with such a statement? Well, what other kind of Christian is there? If rebirth is absolutely essential in order to get into the kingdom of God, as Jesus said it is, there cannot be such a thing as a non-born-again Christian. To say "born-again Christian" is like saying "Christian Christian." It's a redundancy, a kind of theological stuttering. — R.C. Sproul

He wanted to give me a blade? What's wrong with that?"
"Blades," he whispered, "and sheaths go together. And your sheath will only ever hold my blade. — Nalini Singh

Was I his? Was he mine? Fuck, I didn't know. How could I not know after more than a year? How could I not know the answer to this? What the fuck was wrong with me? What the fuck was wrong ... with me? With ... him and me, with us? No, with me. With me. What was wrong with me? — Laurell K. Hamilton

Having choices is the problem. Everything would be easier if someone told me what to do: push the button, stop seeing Marcus, get over Jesse. The problem with choices is that I usually make the wrong ones — Shaun David Hutchinson

What's wrong with all of us, Bill? Can you tell me that?'
'Hell if I know', he said. 'We drink too much for starters. And we want too much, don't we? — Paula McLain

There's very few pitching coaches that I worked with that actually came out on the mound and told me what I was doing wrong with the knuckleball. Because they just didn't know. So I had to figure it out. I was on my own. — Phil Niekro

Cause what the hell is wrong with expressing yourself, trying to be me? — Elton John

No. I'm done with it. Dating...is apparently not for me."
"So, what, you're just going to do hookups?"
"No, I can't do that. The whole 'emotional connection' thing. God, I'm a girl."
"You're definitely not a girl. You're a nice guy whose dick is just tightly connected to his heartstrings. Nothing wrong with that. I'm actually kind of envious. — B. Snow

She looked at me. "What? Is there something wrong with my idea?"
"It's not very heroic," I said dismissively. "I was expecting something with a little more flair."
"Well, I left my armor and warhorse at home," she said. "You're just upset because your big University brain couldn't think of a way, and my plan is brilliant. — Patrick Rothfuss

When I was a kid, I thought I had my life figured out. I knew where I was going. I was sure of whom I was and what I was. I was wrong. See, life is a journey of twist and turns that mold who we are; however, it is not the twist and turns which mold us, but rather, how we take and handle the twist and turns thrown at us. It was not until life threw me flat on my face that I truly discovered who I am and what I am. I am a perpetual work-in-progress. And you know what? I am quite all right with that. — Cristina Marrero

If you want to write a fantasy story with Norse gods, sentient robots, and telepathic dinosaurs, you can do just that. Want to throw in a vampire and a lesbian unicorn while you're at it? Go ahead. Nothing's off limits. But the endless possibility of the genre is a trap. It's easy to get distracted by the glittering props available to you and forget what you're supposed to be doing: telling a good story. Don't get me wrong, magic is cool. But a nervous mother singing to her child at night while something moves quietly through the dark outside her house? That's a story. Handled properly, it's more dramatic than any apocalypse or goblin army could ever be. — Patrick Rothfuss

All of a sudden it seemed as if I could smell the brain, and not in a oh-how-gross way, but as if someone had taken the lid off a pot of gumbo to let the aroma fill the room. And I knew it was the brain that smelled so utterly enticing - knew it with every single cell of my being.
What the hell was wrong with me? — Diana Rowland

Funny thing about life, it's so easy to view it from the outside in. We can see the exact point where our friends fuck up, do the wrong thing, are blind to what's right in front of them. As in, why the fuck won't they just listen to us and take our advice instead of bumbling all over the place? We watch horror movies and know when to shout at the dumb girl who goes in the basement to investigate that noise; we revel in her stupidity, feel superior to it. If it were us, we assure ourselves, we wouldn't be so stupid. Sure we would; we just wouldn't realize the danger. Because the truth is, we're walking deaf, dumb, and blind half of the time. And even though I can tell myself this afterward, after I fuck up, it doesn't make me feel any better. Because I'm about to do a fuck up royale. With cheese. — Kristen Callihan

Nothing is 'wrong' with me, Dan. What's wrong with you? she said in the same eerily quiet voice, dark eyes fixated on Dan, as she breathed heavily. — Martin Hopkins

Whatcha got there?" Drake asked, nodding to the floor. "Snacks for me." I winked. "Well, now I'm offended." He fake pouted, scooting away from me in his seat, which made it even more funny because there was nowhere for him to go in the tiny car. "Why is that?" Nothing wrong with playing along, besides, he was cute when he was fake-mad. What was I saying? He was cute ALL the time. He turned to me and slid his arms around my waist, pulling me close. Far off, I caught a whiff of his scent. Mmm. Delicious. "It's just that I thought I was your snack on the go." His breath danced on my cheek, dangerously close to my lips. I giggled before I could stop myself. "Do you really want me to suck you dry?" "Mmm, that sounds like an offer I can't refuse." He raised his eyebrows and flashed a naughty grin. "Don't be dirty, I didn't mean that." I slapped his arm for good measure. "Is that all you think of me as - some kind of slutty vampire? — Karly Kirkpatrick

The world outside of me has no meaning independent of my thinking it. (pauses to look) I look out of the window. A garden. Trees. Grass. A young woman in a chair reading a book. I think: chair. So she is sitting. I think: book. So she is reading. Now the young woman touches her hair where it's come undone. But how can we be sure there is a world of phenomena, a woman reading in a garden? Perhaps the only thing that's real is my sensory experience, which has the form of a woman reading- in a universe which is in fact empty! But Immanuel Kant says- no! Because what I perceive as reality includes concepts which I cannot experience through the senses. Time and space. Cause and effect. Relations between things. Without me there is something wrong with this picture. The trees, the grass, the woman are merely- oh, she's coming! (nervously)- she's coming in here-! I say, don't leave!-where are you going? — Tom Stoppard