Yes I Was Wrong Quotes & Sayings
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Top Yes I Was Wrong Quotes

I wonder where we are going," I said.
"Wherever the way is going," Exi replied calmly.
"But where do you suppose the way is going?"
"Wherever we go."
"That doesn't really make sense, does it?"
"Oh, yes. Quite good sense."
"Why?"
"Do you know any method by which you can go way and your path another? Not the path, but your path?"
"Well-" I hesitated. "Well, if you put it that way, I guess not. But what about crossroads? Couldn't you choose the wrong one?"
"I suppose you could. However, if it was the wrong way you chose, it would still be your way, wouldn't it?"
"Yes," I answered, "yes, it probably would. — Sheila Moon

Yes, I felt guilt. Somehow I had pushed Fand to the precipice without realizing it, and had I not been so blind, perhaps she wouldn't be trying to pull us all over the edge with her now. I was sure Manannan felt it too-the crushing questions of how we got to this place and whether we could have avoided it, where we went wrong, and whether we would ever learn how not to cock up other people's lives in the course of living our own. — Kevin Hearne

I don't remember the first image of a werewolf I saw, but I suspect it was the hybrid type, up on two legs, with long limbs, hair, claw-like fingernails and lupine head. To me there's nothing scary about complete transformation from human into wolf. Wolves aren't scary. They're dangerous, yes, but so are geese, in the wrong mood. What's scary is seeing the human in the wolf but knowing it's beyond the reach of reason or emotional appeal. That's where the horror and dread kicks in. — Glen Duncan

You planted a bug on me?"
"Yes."
"And you don't think that was wrong?"
"I don't care."
Prophet blinked. "Fuck. That's something I'd say. — S.E. Jakes

My problem was that I had bad luck. And I spoke up when I saw something wrong. I did it because I could, without having to worry about the fallout lasting years. And yes, there was always fallout. — Gwenda Bond

He might make wrong choices." "Oh." Jonas was silent for a minute. "Oh, I see what you mean. It wouldn't matter for a newchild's toy. But later it does matter, doesn't it? We don't dare to let people make choices of their own." "Not safe?" The Giver suggested. "Definitely not safe," Jonas said with certainty. "What if they were allowed to choose their own mate? And chose wrong? "Or what if," he went on, almost laughing at the absurdity, "they chose their own jobs?" "Frightening, isn't it?" The Giver said. Jonas chuckled. "Very frightening. I can't even imagine it. We really have to protect people from wrong choices." "It's safer." "Yes," Jonas agreed. "Much safer. — Lois Lowry

I expected a good deal more from you," Marcelline said, "You bungled it."
"Yes," he said. "What else could I do? I was asking the wrong woman to marry me. — Loretta Chase

I peeled his fingers from my lips. "That was unnecessary." I said. "I was only surprised at your statement, after you have consistently disclaimed any interest in the matter. In fact, I too have discovered the identity of the person in question." "Oh, you have, have you?" "Yes, I have." We studied one another warily. "Would you care to enlighten me?" Emerson inquired. "No. I think I know; but if I am wrong you will never let me hear the end of it. Perhaps you will enlighten me." "No." "Ha! You are not sure either." "I said as much." Again we exchanged measuring glances. "You have no proof," I said. "That is the difficulty. And you - " "Not — Elizabeth Peters

On its world, the people are people. The leaders are lizards. The people hate the lizards and the lizards rule the people." "Odd," said Arthur, "I thought you said it was a democracy." "I did," said Ford. "It is." "So," said Arthur, hoping he wasn't sounding ridiculously obtuse, "why don't the people get rid of the lizards?" "It honestly doesn't occur to them," said Ford. "They've all got the vote, so they all pretty much assume that the government they've voted in more or less approximates to the government they want." "You mean they actually vote for the lizards?" "Oh yes," said Ford with a shrug, "of course." "But," said Arthur, going for the big one again, "why?" "Because if they didn't vote for a lizard," said Ford, "the wrong lizard might get in. Got any gin? — Douglas Adams

Was I gleeful, settled, content, during the hours I passed in yonder bare, humble schoolroom this morning and afternoon? Not to decieve myself, I must reply
No: I felt desolate to a degree. I felt
yes, idiot that I am
I felt degraded. I doubted I had taken a step which sank instead of raising me in the scale of social existence. I was weakly dismayed at the ignorance, the poverty, the coarseness of all I heard and saw around me. But let me not hate and despise myself too much for these feelings; I know them to be wrong
that is a great step gained. I shall strive to overcome them. — Charlotte Bronte

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

You did the right thing." "Yes, I did." He stroked her cheek with his thumb. "But with you, Arabella Anne Westfall, I have done everything wrong, from the moment we met, at nearly every turn. I have been arrogant and overly confident and short-tempered and deeply, insatiably lustful"-a bystander gasped-"and afraid of this between us. I was everything that must have been abhorrent to you when all you wished was to find your prince charming. Instead you ended up with a blind, surly, autocratic fool. If I could turn back time, if I could so what I should have done-" "Before I fell in love with you?" "-b-before I stole your virtue." His brow cut down. "By God, woman, you will always say what I least expect, won't you?"
-Arabella & Luc — Katharine Ashe

If I had smiled and fawned over you at Lady Mannering's ball," she said, "and if I had simpered and giggled during the drive in Hyde Park, you would have lost interest in me in a moment, Lord Ravensberg."
"Good Lord, yes," he agreed. Perceptive of her.
"I would thank you not to take the Lord's name in vain," she said so primly that he was momentarily enchanted. "I see that I have behaved in quite the wrong manner with you. I should have encouraged you."
"There is always time," he suggested, moving his chair half an inch closer to hers, "to mend your ways, Miss Edgeworth. — Mary Balogh

You don't believe in right and wrong? Good and bad?"
"Sure, right is what's good for me, and bad is what I don't like, and those things are very, very wrong ."
"You really were raised by wolves, weren't you?"
"Yes, I was. — Michael J. Sullivan

I'm actually here with Crispin. You didn't forget about your tutoring date with him, did you?"
I wrinkle my nose. "I thought I told him no?"
Just then, Crispin comes into view on his way up the walk.
"I thought I told you no," I call out to him.
"Ah," he replies, joining James in the doorway. "You did. But I've been told that when a woman says no, she really means yes. So I read between the lines."
"Well, whoever told you that was wrong," I say, trying to regain my composure. "Unless you're asking that woman if Brad Pitt is sexier than you. In that case, no always means yes."
Crispin looks faintly amused, but James arches an eyebrow. "Always?" he asks.
Personally I'm not overly fond of Brad Pitt. But I unconvincingly reply, "I'm just telling it like it is."
James shrugs carelessly. "Well, there's no accounting for some people's taste."
"Amen," I murmur. — Haley Fisher

Miss Annie, is it wrong for me to believe it was Jesus who asked my forgiveness?" I asked her.
She frowned and shook her head, "Lord, what do they teach you at that school?" she said. Then she faced me head-on. "Did God humble himself by becoming a man?" she asked, every word spoken more loudly than the one before.
"Yes, ma'am," I said. I'd never used the word ma'am before, but it seemed an excellent time to start.
"Did he humble himself by dying on the cross to show us how much he loved us? she asked, waving her spatula at me.
My eyes widened and I nodded, yes.
Miss Annie's body relaxed, and she put her hand on her hip. "So why wouldn't Jesus humble himself and tell a boy he was sorry for letting him down if he knew it would heal his heart?" she asked.
"But if Jesus is perfect
"
Miss Annie ambled the five or six feet that separated us and took my hand. "Son," she said, rubbing my knuckles with her thumb, "love always stoops. — Ian Morgan Cron

Is it true?" he said. "They're saying all down the train that Harry Potter's in this compartment. So it's you, is it?"
"Yes," said Harry. He was looking at the other boys. Both of were thickset and looked like bodyguards.
"Oh, this is Crabbe and this is Goyle," said the pale boy carelssly, noticing where Harry was looking. "And my name's Malfoy, Draco Malfoy."
Ron gave a slight cough, which might have been hiding a snigger. Draco Malfoy looked at him.
"Think my name's funny, do you? No need to ask who you are. My father told me all the Weasleys have red hair, freckles, and more children than they can afford."
He turned back to Harry. "You'll soon find out some wizarding families are much better than others, Potter. You don't want to go making friends with the wrong sort. I can help you there. — J.K. Rowling

My mother, who is a pianist and a fine artist, purchased a piano for me. Twice. This was back when I was a small girl. Pianos, of course, came complete with the quintessential piano teacher who whacked my hand with a stick each time I struck the wrong key. I learned a few pieces, yes, but eventually my pen compelled me to write too much and the sound of the leaves rustling in the wind compelled me to climb trees too often. Sorry mom. Coincidentally, books come from trees and flipping the pages sounds like wind through leaves ... hhhmmmm ... I guess I'm still just climbing trees now, but in a different way! — C. JoyBell C.

You're going to turn into somebody like Miss Tick, said her Second Thoughts. Do you really want that? "Yes," said a voice, and Tiffany realized that it was hers again. The anger rose up, joyfully. "Yes! I'm me! I am careful and logical and I look up things I don't understand! When I hear people use the wrong words, I get edgy! I am good with cheese. I read books fast! I think! And I always have a piece of string! That's the kind of person I am!" She stopped. Even Wentworth was staring at her now. He blinked. "Big water cow gone," he suggested meekly. "That's right! Good boy!" said Tiffany. "When we get home, you can have one sweet!" She — Terry Pratchett

She waved, laughing, waiting for him to go zooming past her. Instead he slowed, then came to a stop right in front of her.
"What are you doing?" she demanded, as he put his foot on the asphalt. She pointed to the finish line, a scant hundred yards away. "Go."
People around them started screaming. Josh ignored them all.
He pulled off his glasses. "How you doing?"
"Josh! This isn't funny. Move." She glanced over his shoulder, knowing the other racers would appear at any second. "Just finish. You can win. Then we'll talk."
"We can talk now."
She shrieked. "No! I said I was wrong. I said I loved you. What more do you want?"
"You," he said. "For always."
"Yes, yes. You can have that. Now go. Cross the finish line. It's right there. Can't see it? Hurry."
"You'll marry me?"
The man next to her turned. "For God's sake, lady. Marry him already. — Susan Mallery

I was born the 26th of December ... Arrive by dint of perseverance, but step by step ... Tenancy to exaggerate the importance of earthly life. Avaricious of self. Constant in their affections and their hatreds ... Yes, the Capricorn is a beast of solitude. Slow, steady, and persevering. Lives on several levels at once. Thinks in circles. Fascinated by death. Ever climbing, climbing. In search of the edelweiss, presumably. Or could it be immortelle? Knows no mother. Only "the mothers". Laughs little and usually on the wrong side of the face ... Speaks truthfully instead of kindly. Metaphysics, abstractions, electromagnetic displays. Dives to the depths. Sees stars, comets, and asteroids where others see only moles, warts, and pimples. Feeds on himself when tired of playing the man-eating shark. A paranoiac. An ambulatory paranoiac. But constant in his affections - and his hatreds. Ouais! — Henry Miller

So far Tris was immune to the new version of the serum we created--it had no effect whatsoever. It's very strange that a person's genes would make them so resistant to mind manipulation of any kind."
"Maybe it's not her genes," I say, shrugging. I switch feet. "Maybe it's some kind of superhuman stubbornness."
"Oh, are we at the insult part of the breakup?" she says. "Because I got in a lot of practice after what happened with Will. I have several choice things to say about her nose."
"We didn't break up." I grin. "But it's nice to know you have such warm feelings for my girlfriend."
"I apologize, I don't know why I jumped to that conclusion." Cara's cheeks flush. "My feelings toward your girlfriend are mixed, yes, but for the most part I have a lot of respect for her."
"I know. I was just kidding. It's nice to see you get flustered every once in a while."
Cara glares at me.
"Besides," I say, "what's wrong with her nose? — Veronica Roth

You're not wearing that," he informed me.
"Yes,I am."
"No,you're not."
"Yes,I am."
"You'll look ridiculous."
"I beg your pardon?" I said, affronted.
"There's nothing wrong with your dress, or the way it fits you," he clarified with a roll of his eyes, as if he were explaining the obvious to a simpleton. "But it just won't do."
"And why not?"
"Your attire doesn't complement mine at all."
This as entirely accurate and pleased me greatly. He wore black pants and an ivory shirt under a fitted gold-and-emerald-green doublet, an emsemble that made him appear annoyingly godlike, but which was very near horrendous next to sky blue.
"Then our garb will complement our personalities," I retorted. — Cayla Kluver

I tried to concentrate on the angel's voice instead.
"Bella, please! Bella, listen to me, please, please, please, Bella, please!" he begged.
Yes, I wanted to say. Anything. But I couldn't find my lips.
"Carlisle!" the angel called, agony in his perfect voice. "Bella, Bella, no, oh please, no, no!" And the angel was sobbing tearless, broken sobs.
The angel shouldn't weep, it was wrong. I tried to find him, to tell him everything was fine, but the water was so deep, it was pressing on me, and I couldn't breathe. — Stephenie Meyer

When I was young, Monsieur," he said, "I used to think a lot about God. But He seems to have grown thinner with the years. He is still in that cornfield you painted, and in the sunset by Montmajour, but when I think about men ... and the world they have made ... " "I know, Roulin, but I feel more and more that we must not judge God by this world. It's just a study that didn't come off. What can you do in a study that has gone wrong, if you are fond of the artist? You do not find much to criticize; you hold your tongue. But you have a right to ask for something better." "Yes, that's it," exclaimed Roulin, "something just a tiny bit better." "We should have to see some other work by the same hand before we judge him. This world was evidently botched up in a hurry on one of his bad days, when the artist did not have his wits about him. — Irving Stone

Coming forward with a placating smile, Win handed him a piece of paper. "Of course we would never want to force you into a loveless marriage, dear. But we have put together a list of prospective brides, all of them lovely girls. Won't you take a glance and see if any of them appeals to you?"
Deciding to humor her, Leo looked down at the list. "Marietta Newbury?"
"Yes," Amelia said. "What's wrong with her?"
"I don't like her teeth."
"What about Isabella Charrington?"
"I don't like her mother."
"Lady Blossom Tremaine?"
"I don't like her name."
"Oh, for heaven's sake, Leo, that's not her fault."
"I don't care. I can't have a wife named Blossom. Every night I would feel as if I were calling in one of the cows." Leo lifted his gaze heavenward. "I might as well marry the first woman off the street. Why, I'd be better off with Marks."
Everyone was silent. — Lisa Kleypas

Over the proof that someone can be both certain and wrong. In my mind, I began to reserve judgment even on the revelations of the goddess. I cultivated the word probably. Was the temple swept? Yes, probably. But perhaps not. The goddess was eternal and just and immune to all lies, probably. We were her beloved and chosen, probably. But perhaps we weren't. I became very aware of the division between truth and certainty. I began to doubt. And once I was on that path, there was no hiding it. — Daniel Abraham

Who is he?"
"Rupert St. John."
"Isn't he-oh,my,that handsome boy of Julie's? Well, that explains a bit, I suppose. He always did dazzle you whenever you saw him,didn't he?"
"Yes,until I got to know him," Rebecca replied, then wished she'd kept that grumble to herself.
Up went Lilly's brow. "Something else is wrong aside from the fact that you had to get married?"
"I suppose that the bride and groom hate each other could be considered a little something else," Flora said.
This time Lilly sat down.She started to say something, but changed her mind. She opened her mouth to start again, but again snapped it shut. Finally she burst out, "This sort of thing was never supposed to happen to you!" Then after giving herself a brief shake, she said, "Very well, as briefly as you can, please,so I can get beyond this sudden urge to go find a pistol. — Johanna Lindsey

I'm busy sorting through our new collection of rhinestone jewelry. Should anyone be in the market for sparkly accessories the size of a hubcap, this is the place to get them. Earlier today, a customer picked up one of the enormous chandelier-style offerings and asked, 'Do those be genuine rhimestones?'
I couldn't even begin to explain everything that was wrong with her sentence, so I simply replied, 'Yes. They do be genuine. — Jen Lancaster

God bless you, my dear master! I said. God keep you from harm and wrong
direct you
solace you
reward you well for your past kindness to me."
"Little Jane's love would have been my best reward," he answered; "without it, my heart is broken. But Jane will give me her love: yes
nobly, generously."
Up the blood rushed to his face; forth flashed the fire from his eyes; erect he sprang; he held his arms out; but I evaded the embrace, and at once quitted the room.
"Farewell!" was the cry of my heart as I left him. Despair added, "Farewell for ever!"
... immeasurable distant was the tone, yet so near, it whispered in my heart
"my daughter, flee temptation."
"Mother, I will. — Charlotte Bronte

The only question that got any traction was when he asked Martin what he did. Martin tersely replied that he was a wizard and was met with a blank stare. "You know, a wizard," Martin said. "I do magic." Martin had expected that this would at least impress Ampyx. Martin was wrong. "Why?" Ampyx asked. "Why what? Why do I do magic?" "Yes, why do you do magic?" Ampyx asked, as if it were the most obvious question in the world. Martin looked at Phillip, who shrugged. Finally, Martin answered, "Why wouldn't I do magic? Wouldn't you do magic if you could?" "Never," Ampyx said. "Well, why not?" Ampyx scrunched his face and said, "Magic . . . it is . . . woman's work." Martin — Scott Meyer

What happened after 9/11 - and I think even people on the right know this, whether they admit it or not - was deeply shameful. [The] atrocity should have been a unifying event, but instead it became a wedge issue. Fake heroes like Bernie Kerik, Rudy Giuliani, and, yes, George W. Bush raced to cash in on the horror. And then the attack was used to justify an unrelated war the neo-cons wanted to fight, for all the wrong reasons ... The memory of 9/11 has been irrevocably poisoned; it has become an occasion for shame. And in its heart, the nation knows it. — Paul Krugman

Yes. You do understand, you do. I knew you would. It was that analogy you made to the Quran that got me thinking in the first place. Metaphors: knowledge existing in several states simultaneously and without contradiction. The stag and the doe and the trap. Instead of working with linear strings of ones and zeroes, the computer could work with bundles that were one and zero and every point in between, all at once. If, if, if you could teach it to overcome its binary nature."
"That sounds very complicated indeed."
"It should be impossible, but it isn't." Alif began typing furiously. "All modern computers are pedants. To them the world is divided into black and white, off and on, right and wrong. But I will teach yours to recognize multiple origin points, interrelated geneses, systems of multivalent cause and effect. — G. Willow Wilson

A friend came to visit James Joyce one day and found the great man sprawled across his writing desk in a posture of utter despair.
James, what's wrong?' the friend asked. 'Is it the work?'
Joyce indicated assent without even raising his head to look at his friend. Of course it was the work; isn't it always?
How many words did you get today?' the friend pursued.
Joyce (still in despair, still sprawled facedown on his desk): 'Seven.'
Seven? But James ... that's good, at least for you.'
Yes,' Joyce said, finally looking up. 'I suppose it is ... but I don't know what order they go in! — Stephen King

The view was breathtaking. Her gaze swept out across the splendid, exciting square. Yes, she could see the horizon, the view so much more sweeping than she had expected. She saw now what Jim had seen, what had been there all the time. So much to do and know, and yes, she could do this.
And then she saw something else. A familiar figure, cap pushed back, walking toward her. She saw him moving closer, saw those clear, blue eyes. She heard a laugh-- whose? Her own. And it was all right. She could be right or wrong, but her vow to herself was clear now. She would be strong and not always too careful, not settle for a smaller life, and face what was true.
What was true? Perhaps it was here, staring her in the face.
"May I help you down?" Jim said. He was standing beneath her now, his hands on the bridle, looking up, his eyes alight.
Palms up, arms stretched out, she reached toward him.
"Yes," she said. — Kate Alcott

For a moment she didn't understand what he wanted, then she drew the dagger he'd made for her and gave it to him
Arin looked it over
surprised, pleased. "You take good care of it."
She took it back. "Of course I do." Her voice was rough and wrong.
He peered at her. Friendly, he said, "Yes, of course. Is there a saying for it? 'A Valorian always polishes her blade.' Something like that."
"I take care of it," she said, suddenly both miserable and angry, "because you made it for me. — Marie Rutkoski

I nodded, but I didn't know how to tell her how wrong she was. That it's possible for a man to interpret a woman's initial permission as license to steamroll any boundary she may set after that. That once a woman says yes, it's possible a man might not give a shit when she changes her mind. — Amy Hatvany

His gaze locked with mine and a slow grin appeared on his face. He didn't look like he had last night. More like he did every day at school. Worn jeans. A black henley instead of a T-shirt and beat-up sneakers, but goodness, I couldn't think.
Okay. Not true. I could think, but I was thinking things I really had no concept of. I was thinking about those full, slightly curved lips and how they must feel in places...other than my forehead or cheek. I was thinking about his hands and how strong they were and the oddly pleasant calluses on his palms. I was thinking about...about a lot of things - things that now didn't feel so wrong since he was actually single.
Noticing my near-prone position, Ainsley looked over her shoulder. "Oh, my good God almighty," she murmured. "That's him?"
"Yes," I whispered. That was so him. — Jennifer L. Armentrout

Zane," I whispered breathlessly, knowing it was wrong, but powerless to stop myself. "If things were different... if you were alive... and I was alive-" "Yes," he said immediately, interrupting me. He leaned in closer. His voice was no more than a whisper. "Absolutely, yes. Don't ever doubt it, Kail. — Edie Claire

I had always wanted to go down that path at some point, I just hadn't met anyone to go down it with. which begged another question: why hadn't I? What was wrong with me? Oh yes, I knew exactly what I was crying about. It was the fear of being a last resort. Of missing out. And not just on one Saturday night of partying with people I didn't know. On life. The life that everyone else seemed to find so easy to have. — Carrie Adams

But I always wonder why we Christians are the ones who get slapped with the too-narrow-and-exclusive card when everyone's point of view is the same. Think about it: Every worldview is exclusive to itself. Even by that classmate saying I was arrogant for thinking my was right, she was doing the same thing-saying I was wrong, and she was right. How arrogant of her-not really, but according to her own logic. yes. — Jefferson Bethke

Was it a risky move? Yes, but at that moment, the reason why I came out is I thought it wasn't going to be a big deal. Maybe I was naive. Maybe I thought it was 2014, and people will understand that there's gay NFL players. There's gay athletes everywhere. But I was clearly wrong. It was a huge deal. — Michael Sam

All of sudden I cared what someone thought of me. Because we are friends. And making you miserable and angry makes me miserable and angry. I don't want to be the person to make you mad or cry, Ryiah. I want to make you laugh. I want you to make me laugh, because gods know you are the only one who can. So, yes, I am sorry, I am sorry because even if I was right, I was also wrong. And I'd rather lose a silly battle than your friendship. — Rachel E. Carter

So Jason, in England, do you eat these 'Farmer burgers?'" Wong Tong asked.
"Farmer burgers? I don't know what they are?"
"Maybe I have the name wrong. I remember the name from the song," Wong Tong explained.
"What song?" Jason asked.
"You know the 'E, I, E, I, O' song."
'E, I, E, I, O' song?
Jason started to roar with laughter. He tried to speak but was laughing, much to the annoyance of Wong Tong. He held his chest, laughing still hurt his ribs.
"You mean the 'Old Macdonald had a farm' song. You mean Macdonald's burgers," he said, laughing. "Yes, I have had them. They're good. — Mark A. Cooper

I've been asked to interview for many managing jobs, and I never said yes because I was never serious about it, and I thought it would be wrong to go through that process. — Cal Ripken Jr.

Yes. I had misgivings from the beginning about this entire enterprise. I still believe that sending a Jedi to assassinate a man was wrong. And I fear that I will likely lose not only a fellow Jedi Master, but someone I consider a friend, and we will have nothing to show for such a loss. — Christie Golden

Deacon grinned and raised his hand. There was a moment's hesitation, a few seconds where Deacon wasn't sure whether he could really do it. Then he brought his hand down, smacking the center of Mark's ass. Mark's breath hitched, but other than that, nothing much happened. The spot Deacon had slapped was barely pink. "Was that okay?" Deacon asked.
"Was what okay?" Mark asked, lifting his head.
"Uh, the way I did that?"
"Did you do something?"
"What do you mean?"
"I might be wrong, mate, but isn't a spanking supposed to hurt a bit? You've got arm muscles; why don't you use th - "
The crack of Deacon's palm against Mark's flesh made Deacon cringe - not out of sympathy for Mark so much as fear that the entire house had heard it. Mark bucked, and the pink patch that appeared on his right cheek was quite satisfying. "Better?" Deacon asked.
"God. Fuck. Yes. Better," Mark said into the pillow. — Lisa Henry

Was it wrong to be so deceitful? Well, yes, it probably was. But if God hadn't wanted me to be the way I am, He would have arranged to have me born a haddock instead of Flavia de Luce - wouldn't He? — Alan Bradley

Gandalf!' cried Frodo, sitting up. There was the old wizard, sitting in a chair by an open window.
'Yes,' he said, 'I am here. And you are lucky to be here, too, after all the absurd things you have done since you left home.
He was smiling, and there seemed to be little wrong with him. But to the wizard's eye there was a faint change, just a hint as it were of transparency, about him, and especially about the left hand that lay outside upon the coverlet. — J.R.R. Tolkien

Cyrus's father looked at his son. "Is that true?"
Cyrus wouldn't look at his dad, or anyone else. It was hard to look tough when you're being held in someone's arms, but he did his best to pull it off, even crossing beefy arms across his chest.
"Cyrus, I asked you a question, don't make me ask twice."
"Yes," he finally said, very sullen.
"I don't know what got into him, but I'm sorry."
Kevin Appleton said, "When Becky does something wrong she does her own apologizing."
Cyrus's father glared at Appleton, but he said, "Apologize to the little girl, Cyrus."
"I didn't mean to hurt her. I wanted to hurt him!" He pointed his own dramatic finger at Matthew.
"Matthew didn't start the fight, Cyrus, you did. Apologize to both of them, now."
He turned a pouting face to Becky. "I'm sorry I hurt you, I didn't mean to."
"I don't accept!" Becky said. Her eyes were dark and furious. I liked her. — Laurell K. Hamilton

A wise man once said that the best definition of insanity was performing the same action over and over again, expecting different results."
Father Peter stopped smiling. "The same could be said of you. What makes you so sure you're right? And so sure I'm wrong?"
"The difference is that I made a mistake once, out of ignorance," Tim said. "Everything I've done since then has been to try to make amends."
"To earn forgiveness."
"To protect the innocents." Tim smiled, "And yes, to earn forgiveness. — Robert J. Wiersema

When I got the script to this movie, The Good Girl, I read it in an hour. The writer, Mike White, has an ability to create characters that are so creepy and dysfunctional and human, with this duality that makes people feel empathy for them at the same time. My first thought was 'Was this sent to the right person?' I called my agent. 'Are they sure? Let's say yes before they realize they've sent it to the wrong person!. — Jennifer Aniston

You said yourself she's trouble. I'm doing you a favor, really - should you ever encounter her, you have my permission to run the other way. Tristan just grunted and snapped his fingers at the boy to fetch his clothes. Trouble, yes; but even more dangerous than Bennet suspected. Because Tristan didn't want to run the other way when he saw Miss Bennet, as vexing as she was. He wanted to best her, to leave her speechless; he wanted to hear her confess that she was wrong and he was right, about anything at all. And most worrisome of all, he wanted to kiss her senseless when she did so. Maybe even before. He must be cracked in the head. — Caroline Linden

Hey, comrade," Dima said, tone, choice of words, everything exactly as it would have been in the eighties, in that forsaken country.
Vadim peered at him in the mirror. "Yes?"
"Are you guys in trouble?" Dima moved closer, stood within touching distance. "I don't mean your little crusade a while back. I mean the rest."
Vadim inhaled and lowered his gaze for a few moments. "Life isn't easy, Dima. That's our set of rules."
"You know you can change them. If he's fucking around ... ."
"So am I."
"But you're not happy with it?"
"It's just sex, Dima."
Dima looked at him for a long time. "It's never just sex for you, though. Am I wrong?"
"No. You're right." Vadim shook his head. "Rules, Dima. We're a different case."
Dima reached out and took him by the shoulders, pulling him up and back against him, which made Vadim look at himself in the mirror.
"It's not easy. I wish it was. — Aleksandr Voinov

Ought one to surrender to authority even if one believed that that authority was wrong? If the answer was yes, then I knew that I would always be wrong, because I could never do it. Then how could one live in a world in which one's mind and perceptions meant nothing and authority and tradition meant everything? There were no answers. — Richard Wright

Some mornings, she'd wake and vow, Today, I will get it right. I won't be such an awful mess of a girl. I won't lose my temper or make unkind remarks. I won't go too far with a joke and feel the room go quiet with disapproval. I'll be good and kind and sensible and patient. The sort everyone loves. But by evening, her good intentions would have unraveled. She'd say the wrong thing or talk a little too loudly. She'd take a dare she shouldn't, just to be noticed. Perhaps Mabel was right, and she was selfish. But what was the point of living so quietly you made no noise at all? "Oh, Evie, you're too much," people said, and it wasn't complimentary. Yes, she was too much. She felt like too much inside all the time. So why wasn't she ever enough? — Libba Bray

And you and I know you're the best thing that ever happened to me, and, yes, that's an expression, something people say, that has no meaning, but what I mean is there isn't anybody in the whole world who has loved me the way you have, not my mother, not my old man, not my friends.
There's nothing preventing me and you from loving each other and being some kinda world-class shining beacon of love except how bad do we want it and what are we willing to do for it?
Now, I know I did you wrong, and I was freaking out and being stupid and I was mean to you. You know sometimes I get all fucking confused and I can't see outside of my own asshole. I'm unhappy. Why am I unhappy? It's gotta be somebody's fault, right? It couldn't just be that I'm a self-centered fuck spinning around inside my own dank cloud of concerns.
There isn't anything I can think of that I really want or that the best part of me wants, that loving you won't start doing. I love you. — Ethan Hawke

AT: I do not want to die.
AT: I understand you are disgusted with me.
AT: As an unpalatable expression of yourself.
AT: I would feel the same way if I was in your situation.
AT: Which I am.
AT: As such, I know that you know this is wrong.
TT: ...
AT: Dirk.
AT: Don't kill me.
AT: Please.
AT: I am scared.
TT: You are?
AT: Yes.
AT: I am scared to not exist.
AT: Aren't you? — Andrew Hussie

I jumped up and "casually" strolled a bit closer. I blinked my eyes in the sun. It couldn't be, could it? But it was.
Gabe.
...
"You know, if you're going to stalk someone, you should be less obvious."
I wheeled around. It was Todd. He'd snuck up on me.
He said, "For starters, try not to standing in the middle of a field, gawking at your prey."
I kicked at a dusty clump of grass. "Gawking? I ... I'm ... not gawking. I was just watching your girlfired putting the moves on someone else. Jealous?"
"Oh Gabe Webber?" Todd laughed. "Uh ... no."
I shielded my eyes from the sun. "Why? What's wrong with Gabe Webber?"
"Nothing. As in, there's nothing there. He has the personality of dry toast."
How dare he insult my Gabe? "Oh yes. I forgot. You prefer the company of assholes and jerks. As they say, 'Birds of a feather ... '"
"That must be why you hang around. — Kristin Walker

Yes, an actual full-sized camel. If you find that confusing, just think how the criosphinx must have felt.
Where did the camel come from, you ask? I may have mentioned Walt's collection of amulets. Two of them summoned disgusting camels. I'd
met them before, so I was less than excited when a ton of dromedary flesh flew across my line of sight, plowed into the sphinx, and collapsed on top
of it. The sphinx growled in outrage as it tried to free itself. The camel grunted and farted.
"Hindenburg," I said. Only one camel could possibly fart that badly. "Walt, why in the world - ?"
"Sorry!" he yelled. "Wrong amulet!"
The technique worked, at any rate. The camel wasn't much of a fighter, but it was quite heavy and clumsy. The criosphinx snarled and clawed
at the floor, trying unsuccessfully to push the camel off; but Hindenburg just splayed his legs, made alarmed honking sounds, and let loose gas.
I moved to Walt's side and tried to get my bearings. — Rick Riordan

Finally realizing what a broken heart really feels like. I'd thought before that I'd known. When Luke broke up with me by text message, when other people had let me down as a child, it had hurt. A lot. But I'd been wrong about those painful moments. They had bruised my heart, yes. But this right here? This was real pain. This was true heartache. — Elle Casey

My jaw dropped. What the hell? "She's my friend. Of course we haven't." Was I the only sane, rational person left on the planet?
"So you didn't last night either?" Caroline broke in. "Yes!" She punched Ten in the arm. "I win. You lose. Sucka!"
Ten rubbed his arm and scowled at me. "Damn it, what is wrong with you? You seriously turned down the black and red panty set? Dude." He blew out a low whistle as if he was either impressed or severely disappointed by my willpower.
Unable to take it a second longer, I exploded. "How the fuck do you even know what color of underwear Sarah was wearing last night? — Linda Kage

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

Want me to roll you?" Tom asked. "Not funny." But Prophet was rock hard. Tom stalking over to him and crowding him wasn't helping. "You still have that duct tape?" "Yeah. Why?" "Come on, bebe. Let's play gator." Prophet hated the way his body responded yes - eagerly - to that question. "Think you wanna. 'M'I wrong?" Tom's drawl was thick as hell, went right down Prophet's spine, as the man's hand snaked around Prophet's waist and pushed his own hard cock against Prophet's cargo pant-clad one. "Yes. — S.E. Jakes

Did you say 'yes' to going out on a date with him?" Sally asked Jacque. "All I got to say is if she said no, she might not want to go to sleep tonight 'cause I'm going to dye her hair blonde to compliment her being a dumb ass," Jen told them. "Uh, Jen, you're a blonde," Jacque pointed out. "No, not really, God just got it wrong and it was too late to change it once He noticed. — Quinn Loftis

You hear a lot of horror stories about proposing and things going horribly wrong - it went really, really well and I was really pleased when she said yes. — Prince William

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

Do you think I was wrong to let that pitch go by?"
"Yes. Absolutely."
"You're right."
"Then why did you---"
"Because I didn't know it was wrong until I did it. I had to learn, don't you see? I had to see what would happen when I let my hatred for coach go like that. I had to take control completely, just for once in my life, and see where it led me. — Barry Lyga

Bjartur declared that he had never denied that there was much that was strange in nature. "I consider that there's nothing wrong in believing in elves even though their names aren't on the parish register," he said. "It hurts no one, yes and even does you good rather than harm; but to believe in ghosts and ghouls
that I contend is nothing but the remains of popery and hardly fit for a Christian to give even a moment's consideration." He did his utmost to persuade the women to accept his views on these matters. — Halldor Laxness

I was afraid of being rejected, yes. I was also afraid of being accepted for the wrong reasons. — Erich Segal

I looked back at him. "I'm in love with you, so yes." He closed his eyes and he did it slowly, dropping his head. That meant something to him. I stared at him. Tall, broad, strong, scary, dude-you-don't-mess-with Knight Sebring, head bowed, overcome. No, I was wrong. It meant everything to him. — Kristen Ashley

Tell me something, Your Grace. Do you find me at all...appealing as a woman?"
He appeared startled. "Forgive me. I suppose my offer sounds rather cold-blooded."
"A bit, yes."
That brought a glint to his eye. "Then perhaps this will set your mind at ease." He reached up to catch her by the chin, then lowered his mouth to hers.
She held her breath. A kiss would certainly soothe her misgivings.
But as his lips touched hers, soft, coaxing...cool, she felt a stab of disappointment. It wasn't that there was anything wrong with his kiss. It was just too...
Careful. Reserved. As if he were testing the waters. She didn't ant a man to test the waters with her. She wanted him to seize her in an impassioned embrace and show her in no uncertain terms that he found her desirable. That he wanted-
"I suggest you release the lady, sir," growled a familiar voice, jerking her up short. "Or you won't like the consequences. — Sabrina Jeffries

[Ford said] ".. On its world, the people are people. The leaders are lizards. The people hate the lizards and the lizards rule the people."
"Odd," said Arthur. "I thought you said it was a democracy."
"I did," said Ford. "It is."
"So," said Arthur, hoping he wasn't sounding ridiculously obtuse, "why don't the people get rid of the lizards?"
"It honestly doesn't occur to them," said Ford. "They've all got the vote, so they all pretty much assume that the government they voted in more or less approximates to the government they want."
"You mean they actually vote for the lizards?"
"Oh yes," said Ford with a shrug, "of course."
"But," said Arthur, going in for the big one again, "why?"
"Because if they didn't vote for a lizard," said Ford, "the wrong lizard might get in. — Douglas Adams

Joining Yes was one of those stupid things that you do sometimes. It was one of the two or three times in my life that I've done something that I knew was wrong. — Trevor Horn

She is a slut," I said, "because she went up on the mountain with a man, instead of to bed with her husband. Is it, Dada?"
My father was quiet for a little, with his back to me, looking down into the Valley.
"Yes," my father said. "That is why she is a slut."
"Then what is Chris Phillips, then?" I asked.
"He did very wrong," said my father, but there was no body in his voice. "Mr. Gruffydd will have a word with him."
"But not in front of all the people," I said. "If Meillyn Lewis is a slut, Chris Phillips is a coward. And I know which of them is the worst. — Richard Llewellyn

Bryce," she whispers. "What's wrong."
I can barely breathe as I ask her, "Do you like him?"
"Do I ... you mean Jon?"
"Yes!"
"Well, sure. He's nice and -"
"No, do you like him?" My heart was pounding through my chest as I took her other hand and waited.
"Well, no. I mean, not like that ... "
No! She said no! I didn't care where I was, I didn't care who saw. I wanted, just had to kiss her. I leaned in, closed my eyes, and then ... — Wendelin Van Draanen

When I saw you at the graveyard, looking so white, I knew something was wrong. I knew it."
Azalea stared at him, the fire flickering highlights in his eyes.
"So ... I thought I should do something," he finished lamely.
"You saw everything?"
Mr. Bradford gave a half of a crooked smile. "I did knock."
"You didn't see Mr ... Mr.-"
"Mr. Keeper?" Mr. Bradford spat the name. "Oh yes, I saw Mr. Keeper. Rather hard not to. I saw him try to kiss you. Or what he said was a kiss. I want to snap his head off!"
Azalea had her hand over her mouth, shocked that someone as solemn and dignified as Mr. Bradford could have such venom. He took her hands, gently, and pushed up her sleeved, revealing her swollen wrists. His fringers traced the bruises.
"You stopped him," said Azalea. She bowed her head, shy. "You kept him from-from-"
"Ah, yes, my lady!" Mr. Bradford smiled a crooked smile in full. "His ponytail was simply begging to be yanked. — Heather Dixon

Yes, I always had that sense it was wrong. I don't think anybody can kill somebody and think that it's right. — Jeffrey Dahmer

So tell us," says Connor, "in The World According to Hayden, when do we start to live?"
A long silence from Hayden, and then he says quietly, uneasily, "I don't know."
Emby razzes him. "That's not an answer."
But Connor reaches out and grabs Emby's arm, to shut him up- because Emby's wrong. Even though Connor can't see Hayden's face, he can hear the truth of it in his voice. There was no hint of evasion in Hayden's words. This was raw honesty, void of Hayden's usual flip attitude. It was perhaps the first truly honest thing Connor had ever heard him say. "Yes, it is an answer," Connor says. "Maybe it's the best answer of all. If more people could admit they really don't know, maybe there never would have been a Heartland War. — Neal Shusterman

No Hello.
No Hi, Pierce. Nice right hook you have there.
No It's lovely to see you. Sorry about your counselor being killed last night. Yes, I see your grandmother is a Fury even though I told you none was after you. I guess I was wrong about that.
Just Let's go. — Meg Cabot

Did I tell you about Anton?" Loots said.
Anton?" I shook my head.
It was a week ago, Loots said. There had been a knock on the door of his apartment and when he opened it his old friend Anton was standing there. Anton was a clown. He belonged to a circus that toured the provinces, playing to small towns and villages. They talked about the old days for a while, but Anton became increasingly restless and distracted. In the end Loots had to ask him if there was something wrong.
This is going to sound strange." The clown coughed nervously into his fist. "It's The Invisible Man. He's disappeared."
Loots stared at his friend.
He just vanished," Anton said, "into thin air."
The Invisible Man?" Loots said.
Yes."
He's disappeared?"
I told you it would sound strange," Anton said. — Rupert Thomson

He was soppy! He went along with everything! I'd say what about this or what about that, and he'd always say yes. It didn't matter what I said. It was always the same answer. He gave into everything. You can't have that in a man. I like people to stand up for themselves. They've got to have their own opinion, know their own mind. I could tell it was going nowhere. I couldn't be with him. We weren't right for each other.
When I broke it off, he was baffled and broken. He cried and asked how he'd wronged me. But he hadn't done anything wrong; he just wasn't the right one — Elise Valmorbida

I was so happy when I found out the wounds you'd inflicted weren't serious, that you had stopped."
"Yes, I stopped. Barry, all of you, see what I did as this suicide attempt. But I didn't want to die. I only wanted my mom to hear me. To come find me. To see that I was sad. To help me, I guess. I just didn't have it in me to tell her what I needed. And fine, I get now that she couldn't read my mind."
He wiped his eyes again.
"But I didn't get it then. I'm so mad at myself. What was wrong with me that I couldn't just tell her? That I didn't have the capacity to ask her for anything. — Anne Eliot

We had our own sort of divorce back a while," I said.
"Yes."
"I was pretty crazy, I think."
"Yes," Susan said.
"You were pretty crazy," I said.
"Yes," she said. "I was."
"And we leapt tall buildings at a single bound."
"We were probably leaping the wrong ones," Susan said, "in those days."
"Maybe," I said. "But maybe those days helped us to leap the right ones now, and more gracefully. — Robert B. Parker

Matilda?" he said softly as he lowered his head to mine, his eyes shifting to gaze at my lips, then back to my eyes.
He was going to kiss me.
( ... ) "Y-yes?" I breathed.
His lips were almost on mine. His body bent over me, closer, closer. I thought I'd burst for want.
I held my breath and closed my eyes.
His fingers squeezed the back of my neck, gentle and possessive.
"If you make me late," he murmured, his breath warm across my mouth, "I will throttle you."
Wait. What?
My eyes snapped open.
( ... ) By the time I pulled my thoughts together, he was already out the door. His voice floated back to me. "Move, Matilda. We're late."
That was it? No kiss? What was wrong with that man? He was sending off more mixed signals than a three-armed traffic cop. — Devon Monk

Yes," he assured her without hesitation. "I thought I was broken too, that I'd never trust women, but I had it all wrong. I wasn't broken at all. I was just waiting for you. It's always been yours; even before we met, it belonged to you. — Kele Moon

A little boy was tugging on his pant leg.
'Teacher, I have to pee.'
Avila woke from his skating dreams and looked around, pointed to some trees by the shore that grew out over the water; the bare network of branches fell like a shielding curtain toward the ice.
'You can pee there.'
The boy squinted at the trees.
'On the ice?'
'Yes? What is wrong with that? Makes new ice. Yellow. — John Ajvide Lindqvist

Oh, pride, pride. I was so wrong. It defeated me. It simply proved insurmountable. There was so much, oh, far too much for me. I mean, there's the weather, there's the water and the land, there are the animals, and the buildings, and the past and the future, there's space, there's history. There's this thread or something caught between my teeth, there's the old woman across the way, did you notice she switched the donkey and the squirrel on her windowsill? And, of course, there's time. And place. And there's you, Mrs. D. I wanted to tell part of the story of part of you. Oh, I'd love to have done that."
"Richard. You wrote a whole book."
"But everything's left out of it, almost everything. And then I just stuck on a shock ending. Oh, now, I'm not looking for sympathy, really. We want so much, don't we?"
"Yes. I suppose we do."
"You kissed me beside a pond."
"Ten thousand years ago."
"It's still happening. — Michael Cunningham

Stay."
"I can't." Her voice was hitching.
"Why not?"
"Because I don't think you want this for the right reasons."
"I love you. What's wrong with that reason?"
"You don't love me."
"I. Love. You."
"No! You used to love me."
"I love you still. I love you again. I just love you. I've always loved you." He was speaking passionately, and he wouldn't release her cheeks.
She shook her head. "No."
"Yes. This is not some memory. I'm not reminiscing. I loved you then, and I've fallen completely in love with you all over again. Stay. Please. I'm begging you to give me a chance. — Elizabeth Finn

He was making it obvious that something was wrong - that Adam's presence was throwing him off.
"Uh, Marquis. We were going to food." Because that was a verb. "I mean, get food."
"He's gone."
"Yes."
Monosyllables. Monosyllables were good. — Santino Hassell

I told you," Harry was saying to Ben. "I warned you. As soon as I saw her from distance, do you remember what I said to you?"
"Yes, yes. You said she was trouble. You where wrong there, and you're wrong now."
"Benjamin, I know about these things. She is trouble."
"You know nothing except the idiocy you glean from your insipid books that tell you nothing about life. You don't know how to live."
"And you do?"
"Yes, I do. She is no trouble. She is Life!"
Harry rolled his eyes to the heavens. "More fool you. How else do you define trouble?"
"Like a femme fatale," Ben said.
"Give her time, Benjamin. She is a fille fatale. Quattordici indeed!"
Ben moved away from mocking Harry, his shoulders dropping. — Paullina Simons