You Mess Me Up Quotes & Sayings
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Top You Mess Me Up Quotes

You see, that's who you are, Joe. All these things. That's the person I know, and through him is the way you'll know me, because connected to all these things are moments, and for so many of them, I was there. And that's the thing that hurts so much ...
You see, you were the only person who knew everything. Because you were there. You were my witness. And you make sense of the fucked-up mess I become every now and then. And I could at least look at you and think, at least he knows why I am the way I am. There were reasons. But I can't do that anymore and I feel so lonely. — Sarah Winman

My smile faded as we reached Ellsberg and I realized I would see Farah within minutes. Suddenly, I was terrified.
"We've been apart for a month," I said after Judd called Cooper to say we were nearly there. "While Farah made a great life for herself, I was letting myself starve to death in a shit motel. I'll ruin everything for her and she'll stop loving me."
"Angel, your sister needs you too."
"No, she doesn't," I said, panicking now. "She's got Cooper. She's got school and friends. I'm not good at anything. I'll mess everything up."
"Farah sees what I do and that's why she needs you. — Bijou Hunter

I quickly tried to tidy-up, but she stilled my busy hands. "Honey, I don't mind a bit of mess. It's what makes you real. Please, don't feel like you need to clean for me," she said gently. "Besides, I came to visit you, not the cabin." I — Lora Ann

If you wanted to kill me, why haven't you smothered me in my sleep?" "No sport in that." She gestured towards the ceiling. "Can I expect to be strung up on that bar and gutted like a deer?" He looked up at the bar and frowned. "Too much sport. Lots of heave-hoeing. Big mess to clean up after. Instead, why don't you just drink the poison-laced whiskey?" He extended the glass toward her again and when she didn't move he said, "No? Okay then." He shot the drink. She might not want the edge taken off but he sure as hell did. — Sandra Brown

Tell me I'm a screwed up mess, that I never listen, listen. Tell me you don't want my kiss, that you need your distance, distance. Tell me anything but don't you say he's what you're missing baby. If he's the reason that you're leaving me tonight, spare me what you think and Tell Me a Lie. — One Direction

There is something I want to do. But it's something to work towards, not something that should be handed to me on a plate. What's the point of doing something if you know you've got someone to rescue you if you fail? I like to work hard at something and then to reap the rewards. I take pride in what I do. What's the point if I know my rich husband will bail me out if I mess up? — Dorothy Koomson

Baseball fans! Good lord! I feel like sports fans get mad at you easier than country music fans. It scares me. I'm glad that country fans don't get mad every time I mess up. — Ashley Monroe

You are already part of a family," Desari reminded him,her body brushing his, her arms circling his waist from behind. She had materialized out of nowhere,her presence filling the healing chamber.
She was there. Completing him. His air. His heart.The part of his soul that really lived and loved and mattered. Without conscious thought he sent up a quick prayer of thanks that he had been granted such a priceless treasure when he felt so undeserving of her.
Julian loved the way she smelled. He inhaled, and her scent washed over him, clean and sexy. "This mess? With all these males?" Julian allowed a low, rumbling growl to escape. "This is no family. This is a man's nightmare."
Desari deliberately moved against him, her body soft and pliant with invitation. "Is that what you think?"
"What I think is"-Julian circled her slender throat with his large hand in mock threat- "you are deliberately tempting me when I have important, pressing business to atttend to. — Christine Feehan

We all have a friend or family member who can't bear the sight of a mess. Use her obsessive compulsion to your advantage! Whisper in her ear: "I'm always impressed by how neat your house is. Can you do me a favor and help tidy this place up as the night goes on?" — Clinton Kelly

If I'm in the middle of a take and I start to think about what I'm doing, I just mess up and I have to stop and so I find that for me, you really need to trust your instinct. — Saoirse Ronan

If beauty is pain - let me get lost in it. If you're my salvation - I want to earn it. If love is all I have to give - then let me give it. You. It's all for you."
Gabe's eyes opened and locked in on mine.
"How can I prove that what I feel is real? You ask for truth I give you lies. You ask for joy I make you cry. But I don't want to lose you. Not like this. Not when I've left your heart in such a mess. Give me one chance - I'm letting go of the past - but I need you here to know."
"If beauty is pain - let me get lost in it. If you're my salvation - I want to earn it. If love is all I have to give - then let me give it. You, it's all for you." He paused, hitting the last few notes, and the song ended.
Gabe's smile lit up the room.
But I was frozen in place.
Me. He'd sung that to me. — Rachel Van Dyken

He picks up the remote and turns his show back on. "This is the best part." He points at the TV and grins. I lift my feet, but he grabs them and holds tight. "Stay a few minutes. I missed you when you were gone." He grins at me again. My heart clenches. His fingers start that slow sweep up and down my foot again. I turn my head so I can watch the TV with him. He talks to the TV while the cook-off is going on, like Emilio does when he's watching sports. It makes me laugh. He looks at me, his brows raised. "Are you laughing at me?" He grabs my foot tightly and holds it, his other hand holding my middle toe. He gives it a tug and I squeal. "Let me go!" He laughs and tugs my toe until it pops. It doesn't hurt. But it's damn aggravating. "That's what you get when you mess with me," he taunts. I — Tammy Falkner

I suppose I'll have to clean up Freddy's brains; I hate to leave a mess for the home owners. Hand me that plastic bag; I need to put it over his head to keep him from leaking. Oh, relax, Freddy; I'll tear an airhole for you. - Mercer — Rachel Caine

Idealistic? Ruddy stupid, if you'll pardon the language, miss,: Mr Roberts said. "All this talk about power for the people and down with the ruling classes and everyone should govern themselves. It can never happen, I told him. The ruling classes are born to rule. They know how to do it. You take a person like you or me and you put us up there to run a country and we'd make a ruddy mess of it. — Rhys Bowen

After reading the salary, I've decided that I must refuse. The reason I have to refuse a salary like that is I would be able to do what I've always wanted to do- -get a wonderful mistress, put her up in an apartment, buy her nice things.. With the salary you have offered, I could actually do that, and I know what would happen to me. I'd worry about her, what she's doing; I'd get into arguments when I come home, and so on. All this bother would make me uncomfortable and unhappy. I wouldn't be able to do physics well, and it would be a big mess! What I've always wanted to do would be bad for me, so I've decided that I can't accept your offer. — Richard Feynman

You're a beautiful mess to me," he said. "Like wildflowers, growing up in the middle of a tire, along the side of the road. You're not like prize roses, carefully planted in the right soil and pruned back at the right times. You're wild, and you're free. And you smell like heaven. When I look at you, I believe in ... I don't know. I just believe. — Mimi Strong

Give me your hands," I said.
I studied his palms. "Yes, she'll forgive you. She'll realize you saved her."
"You're a palm reader now?"
"Yes."
"When did you learn how to do that?"
"While you were sleeping."
"I waste so much time sleeping. What else do you see?"
"I see food. Max is going to bring food."
"Do you see cake?"
"No, no cake."
"Let me see your hands," he said.
I raised an eyebrow.
"I learned while you were talking." He studied my palms. "Your scars cross over the lines in your hands, like you have two lives... One to mess up and one to get right."
"That's convenient. What else do you see?"
"I see you happy," he said.
"Yeah?" I asked.
He nodded. "And I see you."
My fingers itched to reach out and touch his face, to make sure I'd still know him in the dark.
"I see you, too," I said. — Shalanda Stanley

Those days are gone, and good fucking riddance to them; unhappiness really meant something back then. Now it's just a drag, like a cold or having no money. If you really wanted to mess me up, you should have got to me earlier. — Nick Hornby

She stared heavenward and shook her head after finding out she'd sent me on a long-distance trip with the son of Lust.
But the detail that sent her over the edge was the fact that my father had me haunted by those demons. No matter how much I tried to explain that it was necessary for me to be able to see the spirits, she was livid. When three o'clock approached and her mood hadn't lightened, I started to worry.
When my dad arrived, Patti stood by the counter with her arms crossed. He appeared as large and frightening as ever. The kind of man nobody would dare to mess with.
Patti walked right up and smacked him across the face.
I jolted. He blinked. She stayed right in front of him and stabbed a finger at his chest, her other hand on her hip.
How dare you do that to her? I don't care what your reasons were. Did you hear her screaming? She was terrified! Don't you ever sic those monsters on her again. Ever! — Wendy Higgins

I didn't mean to mess things up, I don't know what got into me-"
He rubs his temples. "Please don't apologize.It's not your fault."
"But if I hadn't dragged you out to dance-"
"Anna." Etienne speaks slowly. "You didn't make me do anything I didn't want to do."
My face grows hot as the knowledge explodes inside of me like dynamite.
He likes me.Etienne really does like me. — Stephanie Perkins

In life we all go through trials and tribulations. So now tell me, will you pass or will you make a mess? — Jonathan Anthony Burkett

Anyway, here." He handed me a bag. "Thought you might be hungry. Since you're our guests, it would be impolite if we didn't share our food with you. That's your rations for the week. Try to make it last." At my surprised look, he rolled his eyes. "Not all of us live on oil and electricity, you know."
"What about Ash and Puck?"
"Well, I'm pretty sure eating our food won't melt their insides to gooey paste. But you never know." (Glitch)
Puck sat and gazed mournfully into the bowl I handed him. "Not an apple slice to be found," he sighed, picking through the gooey mess with his fingers. "How can mortals even pass this off as fruit? It's like a peach farmer threw up in a bowl."
Ash picked up the spoon, gazing at it like it was an alien life form. — Julie Kagawa

One of the nice things about being me is you show up in a town, you meet somebody interesting and entertaining, and for 48 hours, what a wonderful person to be around. You mess around, and all of that is super, super fun, and you don't have to deal with the long-term consequences of it. — Guy Branum

These times are hard, but I won't walk away jaded, darker, different. I feel. I cry to heal. If you saw me in those moments, maybe you'd think I was a mess. But I don't call it a mess. I call it strength.
Real strength isn't about building walls. Real strength is about staying open, no matter what. It's about taking life - with all the pleasures that fade and all the pain that sticks around for too long - and not shutting down, not closing down, not building up those walls.
Resilience isn't hard, impenetrable, iron. Resilience is flexible, soft, warm.
Stay strong. The real kind of strong. Don't let your automatic mind reflexes make you jump away from pain and towards pleasure. Make choices. See clearly. And never, ever, stop feeling.
Don't go numb. The world, even with all its horror, is too beautiful to miss. — Vironika Tugaleva

Don't kill me." the girl cries I shake my head smiling "Of course I wont, I'm after the things that attacked your family." I get up "Lets find you a new place to stay." I gesture to the girl to come, she slowly makes her way to me. Avoiding the bloody mess and what remains of her family, no doubt this is going to stay with her. Attacks like this always did. — Charon Lloyd-Roberts

When we got to the part where we had to improvise an argument in a poetic language, I got cold feet. "I can't do this," I said. "I don't know what to say."
"Say anything," he said. "You can't make a mistake when you improvise."
"What if I mess it up? What if I screw up the rhythm?"
"You can't," he said. "It's like drumming. If you miss a beat, you create another."
In this simple exchange, Sam taught me the secret of improvisation, one that I have accessed my whole life. — Patti Smith

A sensitive person receives fifty impressions where somebody else may only get seven. Sensitive people are so vulnerable; they're so easily brutalized and hurt just because they are sensitive. The more sensitive you are, the more certain you are to be brutalized, develop scabs.Analysis helps. It helped me. But still, the last eight, nine years I've been pretty messed up, a mess pretty much. — Marlon Brando

I loved him.
I couldn't pinpoint what made me so certain, but I knew it then, as surely as I knew my name or the color of the sky or any fact written in a book.
Could he feel it, too?
Maxon broke the kiss and looked at me. "You're so pretty when you are a mess."
I laughed nervously. "Thank you. For that and for the rain and for not giving up."
He ran his fingers along my cheek and nose and chin. "You're worth it. I don't think that you get that. You're worth it to me. — Kiera Cass

Damn it, the man needed a keeper. Yeah, sure he did. A dark-haired, dimpled, dhampir keeper, which wasn't going to happen, so just shut up.
Sometimes I didn't think it mattered what Mircea did in my head, because I was already crazy anyway. "It's like someone invented you just to mess with me," I said resentfully. "Quoi?" I sighed. — Karen Chance

What in the world are we going to do with you?' Mrs. Ritter asked.
I could think of a few things.
Take it easy on me.
Teach me different.
Care about me just a little.
So many times that year I wanted to shout,'It's not like I'm waking up in the morning and trying to mess up. I just don't get it! — Joan Bauer

It reminded me of a meat grinder. From when I was a kid. Going to school it felt like you were in a meat grinder. It chews you up and pours out this mess that can't function — Gerard Way

If that dickwad Sabin wants to talk to her, that means Gwennie will want to, as well." Kaia drummed her nails against the tabletop. "And as you know, puppy, I ensure that my sister gets what she wants. Besides, I'm about to die of boredom since no one has attacked the fortress as promised." "Harpy," Aeron snapped. "Don't try my patience. You will obey me in this and let the angel go." "Warriors are so adorable when they think they're all tough and commanding." Kaia's arm shot out, again rattling dishes, and she snatched up a handful of eggs. A handful she then launched at Aeron. Olivia quickly dodged, and the eggs slapped Aeron in the face. His lips curled in a grimace as he wiped away the yellow mess. Rather than touch her again, however, he flattened his palms on the arms of the chair. Kaia — Gena Showalter

Kat: You can't just buy me a guitar every time you mess up, you know.
Pat: I know, but there's still drums, and a bass, and maybe even someday a tambourine. — David Levithan

The slight pull was all it took to completely unbalance his precarious load and dump the manure - all atop her boots.
"Bloody hell! Look what ye done!" the boy cried ... If ye hadn't come along and pulled me o'er it ne'er would have happened.But now ye'd best clean it up afore Devington or Jeffries comes along."
"Me?" she replied incredulously. "I'm not the clumsy oaf who dumped it. It's not my mess to clean."
"Well, I ain't about to be the last to finish my chores. Devington will have me turning over the reeking dung pit instead of breaking me fast wi' the other chaps."
"That's nothing compared to my boots, you ham-fisted lout!"
"Tweren't me what pulled the wheelbarrow arse over tea kettle, ye wantwit! Go bugger yer mother and lick yer boots clean!"
"I'll box your ears, you brazen-faced little jackanapes! ... — Emery Lee

Who's the boy who thinks he can mess with my men?" he demanded.
"Nobody," said the boy. "Just the King of Cats."
The words made the gang draw up short; obviously the title meant something to them, though Paris had never heard it before.
"It's a very simple situation," the boy went on. "You can join the Rooks and follow my orders without question. Or you can immediately decide that your territory starts east of here. Screaming as you run is optional."
Paris suspected that it would be a good time for him to scream and run, but the situation had a sort of awful fascination. The boy was definitely, absolutely mad, and they were both going to be pounded to death, and he couldn't look away.
"Or you can fight me over it," said the boy. "Care to wager your gang on a duel?"
The leader hesitated a moment; then he sneered, "So long as you fight fair."
"Nobody gets anything but what he earns from me — Rosamund Hodge

It is my fault, and the fault of everyone of my generation. I wonder what the future generations will say about us. My grandparents suffered through the Depression, World War II, then came home to build the greatest middle class in human history. Lord knows they weren't perfect, but they sure came closest to the American dream. Then my parents' generation came along and f***ed it all up - the baby boomers, the "me" generation. And then you got us. Yeah, we stopped the Zombie menace, but we're the ones who let it become a menace in the first place. At least we're cleaning up our own mess, and maybe that's the best epitaph to hope for. 'Generation Z, they cleaned up their own mess. — Max Brooks

When I was younger, I would mess about and have a laugh with everyone. I was doing Atonement when I was about 12, and as we went to do this very serious scene, the director Joe [Wright] came up to me ... I'd been giggling right up to the beginning of the take. And he came up to me and said, "Okay, you need to be serious now." I completely idolized him. — Saoirse Ronan

Look in the mirror, Brooke. You're a mess, but you're a fucking gorgeous mess. There's a reason I didn't want to stay, and that's it. Don't blame me for waking up with a raging hard-on when you've been lying next to me in bed for six hours." I — Emma Hart

It wasn't a hard kiss, but it wasn't particularly soft either. It was just perfect. The perfect amount of sweet and hot, and...
She put her hands on his chest, shoving him backward. "Please don't mess with me. Please. Just talk to me."
Jackson's eyes shadowed with regret as he slowly released her wrist, lifting a hand to her face. The back of his fingers stroked her cheek softly. "Talk to you?"
She nodded.
"What shall I talk about?" he whispered.
"How about the fact that you're supposed to be in Houston right now? It's the only reason I came over."
"I was in Houston," he said.
"For what, an hour?" she asked.
"Probably about that, yeah." He was watching her mouth as his thumb brushed softly over her lips.
Her breath caught at the tenderness in his touch - in his eyes.
"What happened?"
His eyes flicked up to hers. "You want the full story, or the important part?"
"The important part," she whispered.
"I love you. — Lauren Layne

I don't like big weddings." Her panic is clear. "All those people make me nervous. I'll mess up the vows and say something inappropriate."
"It doesn't have to be big. It can be just the two of us if you want. We can wait until next summer - or the one after if a year isn't long enough. We can get married up here by a justice of the peace on the end of the dock at sunset. A damn Rastafarian can perform the ceremony if that's what you want. I don't care about the wedding part. All I want to be is connected to you in the most significant way possible. I want you as my wife. — Helena Hunting

Menoeceus is a great name. (Astrid)
For an old man or a feminine hygiene product. Not for my son. And next time I get to name the kid and it won't be something that sounds like meningitis. (Zarek)
You keep that up and next time you'll be the one birthing it, and don't mess with me, bucko, I have connections in that department. A pregnant man is not an impossibility in my neighborhood. (Astrid) — Sherrilyn Kenyon

With your face and your beautiful eyes and the coversations with the little white lies and the faded picture of a beautiful lie you carry me from your car up the stairs,and I broke down crying was she worth this mess? After everything and that little black dress.After everything i must confess ... I need you <3'
-Taylor Swift — Taylor Swift

That's how I remember things, anyway. I remember stories. I connect the dots and then out of that comes a story. And the dots that don't fit into the story just slide away, maybe. Like when you spot a constellation. You look up and you don't see all the stars. All the stars just look like the big fugging random mess that they are. But you want to see shapes; you want to see stories, so you pick them out of the sky. Hassan told me once you think like that, too - that you see connections everywhere - so you're a natural born storyteller, it turns out. — John Green

How many times do I have to say I'm sorry before you believe it? That I acknowledge I made a terrible mistake and have done everything I know how to fix it? How can you just freeze me out after that and walk away from everything we had?"
Hurt and resentment swelled inside him, mixing with the anger in a toxic, chaotic mess. "You walked away first," he shot back. "That was your choice." Then I made mine. It was a low blow, even if it was true. But he refused to feel guilty about it, even under the circumstances. He hadn't wanted to have this conversation, but she'd insisted, and he wouldn't lie to her about the way things stood.
Honor's chin came up, her tears evaporating as her eyes sparked with fresh anger. "I did," she admitted quietly, her control merely emphasizing the loss of his own. "I did walk away and it was the absolute worst mistake of my life. I'm sorry, Liam. See? I'm a big enough person to admit it to your face. Are you? — Kaylea Cross

To the average eye, my bedroom was a complete disaster. The floor was hardly visible with all of the empty soda bottles, chip bags, and piles of clothes covering it. The rustic nightstand by my bed was so cluttered with papers, more soda bottles, notebooks, and hoodies that it looked like a pile of contemporary art. And my bed? It was just a pile of dark blue blankets and pillows scattered on an old mattress. What's the point in making your bed, anyway? You're just gonna mess it up and unmake it at the end of the day. Why even bother? My bedroom might look like a mess to anyone else, but to me, it was my own personal oasis. I liked it just the way it was. I never bought the whole saying, "A cluttered room is a cluttered mind." Me? Cluttered? Nah. More like creative. The more cluttered your room is, the more creative you are. And judging by my room, I must be pretty creative. I — Savannah Ostler

He squinted up at the straining muscular backs of the stone men supporing the dome. "You'll have to take me to some museums," he said. He was being the young man on the road, following the sun because gray weather made him suicidal, writing his poetry in his mind in diners and gas station men's rooms across the country. "But I did see a show of Hopper once. And I like his light. It was kind of lonely or something.
Or, "The world's a mess, it's in my kiss,' like John and Exene say," he mumbled. We were in a leather store on Market Street being punks on acid with skunk-striped hair and steel-toed boots. — Francesca Lia Block

You can take what is handed to you and use it as an excuse to mess up. But I've always handled what was given to me by life. I consider myself lucky. I was never lied to. And I was loved. — Leighton Meester

I loved someone so much that I broke up with him because I didn't want to get hurt. Then when he proved he loved me back, I broke up with him again. I'm a fucking mess, but so are you. Most of us are. — Sarah Colonna

I blink and Kayden is squatting in front of me, and I'm somehow on my knees, his hands under my hair, warm on the skin of my neck. His jacket is gone, his tie loose, his hair is a sexy rumpled mess, and he is beautiful. He is right in ways that other man is wrong, and a calmness fills me that wasn't there moments before. I reach up and grab his wrists. "I'm glad you're here, and I'm glad I'm here. Even if it meant I had to go through him to get to you. — Lisa Renee Jones

I try to shape a tight laugh, and it dies in my throat. "This is new to me, Wes. Sharing. Having someone I can share with. And I really appreciate your help
That sounds lame. I've never had someone like ... This is a mess. There's finally something good in my life and I'm already making a mess of it." My cheeks go hot, and I have to clench my teeth to stop the rambling.
"Hey," he says, knocking his shoe playfully against mine. "It's the same for me, you know?" This is all new to me. And I'm not going anywhere. It takes at least three assassination attempts to scare me off. And even then, if there are baked goods involved, I might come back." He hoists himself up from the bench. "But on that note, I retreat to tend my wounded pride." He says it with a smile, and somehow I'm smiling, too. How does he do that, untangle things so easily? — Victoria Schwab

Yo, where you at, pretty boy?" Braeden hollered and came around the corner.
I grinned and he laughed. "You ready for today?" he said and hooked me around the neck with his arm and tried to bend me down so he could mess up my hair.
"Hells yeah," I said, dodging his attempt.
The guys that were around us all starting trading insults, so we joined in until the sound of music cut through the laughter.
Some old song about how the guy singing was too sexy burst through the noise, and we all started to laugh. "B-man!" someone shouted a row over. "Phone's ringing. — Cambria Hebert

Perfectionism means that you try desperately not to leave so much mess to clean up. But clutter and mess show us that life is being lived. Clutter is wonderfully fertile ground - you can still discover new treasures under all those piles, clean things up, edit things out, fix things, get a grip. Tidiness suggests that something is as good as it's going to get. Tidiness makes me think of held breath, of suspended animation, while writing needs to breathe and move. — Anne Lamott

Closing up. Finally spent.
You are gone.
And now you're moving along.
Heavy now. Tears remain.
Hard pressed to rest.
When all I feel like is a mess.
Now, don't you worry your head.
You're not my one and only friend.
And I don't need you anymore.
To leave me bruised and broken on the floor.
You left me bruised. You left me broken.
You left me bruised. You left me broken. — K.A. Linde

Laura looked up at him with dead blue eyes.
I want to be alive again," she said. "Not in this half-life. I want to be really alive. I want to feel my heart pumping in my chest again. I want to feel blood moving through me - hot, and salty, and real. It's weird, you don't think you can feel it, the blood, but believe me, when it stops flowing, you'll know."
She rubbed her eyes, smudging her face with red from the mess on her hands.
Look, it's hard. You know why dead people only go out at night, puppy? Because it's easier to pass for real, in the dark. And I don't want to have to pass. I want to be alive. — Neil Gaiman

He grabbed a towel off the shelf. After dampening it, he tossed it to me. "Clean yourself up." He sent a devilish grin my way. "I can't have my little Apol yon-in-training looking like a mess."
My fingers clenched around the towel. "If you ever say something that stupid again, I wil smother you in your sleep."
His golden brows rose. "Little Alex, are you suggesting that we sleep together?"
Stunned by how he came to that conclusion, I lowered the towel. "What? No!"
"Then how could you smother me in my sleep unless you were in bed with me?" He gave a sly grin. "Think about it."
"Oh, shut up. — Jennifer L. Armentrout

Yes, but look what a mess you have made of things prior to my arrival." Lady Maccon was not to be dissuaded from her chosen course of action. "Someone has to tell Conall that Kingair is to blame." "If none of them are changing, he'll find out as soon as he arrives. His lordship would not like you following him." "His lordship can eat my fat - " Lady Maccon paused, thought the better of her crass words, and said, " - does not have to like it. Nor do you. The fact remains that this morning Floote will secure for me passage on the afternoon's dirigible to Glasgow. His lordship can take it up with me when I arrive. — Gail Carriger

The thing that bothers me the most is the recklessness and greed of the local ranchers, who run too many cattle back here, choking with waste the creek that runs through my property. There's certain times of day that the cowboys like to send them turds down the river. Them f**kers piss me off. if you gotta mess up the ecology of the world in order to raise a bunch of cows, well eat somethin else. I'm not a fan of the cowboys. — Merle Haggard

I nodded to Sam. "I'll just clean up these boxes and meet you out on the floor." Macy's didn't mess around their shoe department in New York. It spanned two floors, and it was always busy.
"Okay," she relented. "If you're not out in ten minutes, I'm coming back to find you."
"Got it. I was relieved when she finally walked out of the stock room. I wanted to forget this craziness had ever occurred.
Tom bent over to help me as I gathered up the errant shoes. "Dude," he said, "can I touch your arm? I've never touched anyone who's died before. — Amanda Carlson

I love you, Gideon."
"God." He looked at me with something that resembled disgust. Whether it was directed at me or himself, I didn't know. "How can you say that?"
"Because it's the truth."
"You just see this" - he gestured at himself with a wave of his hand. "You're not seeing the fucked-up, broken mess inside."
I inhaled sharply. "You can say that to me? When you know I'm fucked up and broken, too? — Sylvia Day

He holds me. I am his in a way he probably isn't even aware of.
Boys shouldn't know what power they have. They would panic probably or just mess things up. But boys are who you give yourself to. Not your parents or your teachers or your "future". You give yourself to a boy.
And then you go for long walks at night and think about them and wonder what they will do to you in the end. — Blake Nelson

You know what? I didn't mess up about Paul Revere ... [I]n a shout-out, gotcha type of question that was asked of me, I answered candidly. And I know my American history. — Sarah Palin

The thing I want to really say is that I still mess up. I still go out there and say things on TV that I know the Lord is like, 'Sherri what are you doing?' but I know I can go back and get on my knees and say, 'Lord forgive me.' I know he will never leave me nor forsake me. The wonderful thing is He answers my prayers in spite of me. — Sherri Shepherd

Yeah, sorry. I can't help my genetics. Take your frustration out on me if it'll make you feel better, but don't mess up my pretty face. — Ann Aguirre

Men came in and dragged us apart. It took us five minutes to bring Nora to. She sat up holding her cheek and looked around the room until she saw Morelli, nippers on one wrist, standing between two detectives. Morelli's face was a mess: the coppers had worked him over a little just for the fun of it. Nora glared at me. "You damned fool," she said, "you didn't have to knock me cold. I knew you'd take him, but I wanted to see it."
One of the coppers laughed. "Jesus," he said admiringly, "there's a woman with hair on her chest. — Dashiell Hammett

The world is tearing itself apart," the retired General began. "This administration is compromising national security. In another few years he will be gone to go write his memoirs and tour the country doing speaking engagements before picking up a job in some think tank. Then guys like you and me will be left holding the mess that he created. We will have inherited an unworkable situation in the Middle East. "He forced Mubarak out; clearly the wrong move. We had a good deal going with Gaddafi and many worked very hard to get him into our camp, but we did flip him. Then the President helps the militias overthrow him without the slightest understanding of the region and the complicated east, west, and south tribal conflict overlaid on top of sectarian issues. — Jack Murphy

You should keep dental floss on you at all times; when your eyesight goes, quit driving; don't keep too many secrets, eventually they'll eat away at you. But the most valuable lesson he taught me was this: Every day we get older, and some of us get wiser, but there's no end to our evolution. We are all a mess of contradictions; some of our traits work for us, some against us. And this is what I figured out on my own: Over the course of a lifetime, people change, but not as much as you'd think. Nobody really grows up. — Lisa Lutz

What if I mess up?"
"Oh, you will. You'll mess up, you'll make mistakes, you'll break things. Some you'll be able to piece together, and others you'll lose. That's all a given. But there's only one thing you have to do for me."
"What's that?"
"Stay alive long enough to mess up again. — Victoria Schwab

Sweat isn't a bad thing," he said, leaning his head against the wall thoughtfully. "Some of the best things in life happen while your sweating. Yeah, if you get too much of it and it gets old and stale, it turns pretty gross. But on a beautiful women? Intoxicating. If you could smell things like a vampire does, you'd know what I'm talking about. Most people mess it all up and drown themselves in perfume. Perfume can be good ... especially if you get one that goes with your chemistry. But you only need a hint. Mix about 20 percent of that with 80 percent of your own perspiration ... mmm." He tilted his head to the side and looked at me. "Dead sexy. — Richelle Mead

Why do you even want to be involved with me?" she asked. "I'm a complete mess. I don't have my head on straight. I'm a master at fucking up everything that's good in my life."
"But you're my mess." Cole said quietly. "I don't need you to be perfect. I just need you to be you because that's who I care about. — Maya Banks

They went back to scooping up breakfast, licking the mess off their fingers. Soon the pile of berry mush was gone and their tongues were dyed a nice midnight blue. Ian seemed in a good mood, sticking his tongue out playfully at his best friend. Eena did likewise, right back at him. She was happy he was smiling, even if his teeth were purple.
(You're too much fun, Eena,) Ian announced in her mind. (I'm really glad we're friends.)
(Me too,) she agreed. (Best friends.)
Ian leaned back on his hands and watched the waves roll in from far off. The swells were building into large, flat-crested waves.
(Angelle never thought like you do. You're creative and kinda crazy. Her thoughts were always more simple and, well ... ..normal.)
(Yeah, well, deadly dragons and evil witches tend to suck all the normal right out of you,) she grumbled.
(I suppose.) — Richelle E. Goodrich

MY MOM SAYS IT'S TIME for me to give up now, and that what I'm doing is futile. She's upset, so her accent is thicker than usual, and every statement is a question. "You no think is time for you to give up now, Tasha? You no think that what you doing is futile?" She draws out the first syllable of futile for a second too long. My dad doesn't say anything. He's mute with anger or impotence. I'm never sure which. His frown is so deep and so complete that it's hard to imagine his face with another expression. If this were even just a few months ago, I'd be sad to see him like this, but now I don't really care. He's the reason we're all in this mess. — Nicola Yoon

You can find something funny in anything! I'm sick as a dog and falling to bits, but I'll give up joking only after I give up the ghost! my last gasp! The proof, here, with only an eighth of a glimmer of light, things oozing out of my asshole, my armpits, and the elbows, too, blood coming out of the eyes, from the soupy mess of my grave, me whistling a tune, that's what you'll hear! A regular blackbird! — Louis-Ferdinand Celine

The key to life," he told me once, "is to avoid the highs and the lows. It's the peaks and valleys that mess you up. — Tayari Jones

You told me you don't do relationships."
"I don't. It only ends up a mess when true mates come along" ...
"Then why? Why ask for more."
A slight pause. "Because you matter. — Suzanne Wright

It's a really, really scary thing to stand here, to put words in people's mouths to say to God. It's terrifying to me. You potentially could mess someone up for...I don't know, eternity. — David Crowder

You're too good for me."
He laughed. "Are we talking about the same person? The selfish fucker who curses and yells, blows up cars and beats up people, because he has a temper he can't control? You know, the one who drinks like a fish and fries his brain with drugs? That person is too good for you?"
She shook her head. "I'm talking about the boy who shared his chocolate bar with me when he probably never shared anything before, who gave me his mama's favourite book, because he thought I deserved to read. The one who seems to be constantly fixing me up when I get hurt. I'm talking about the boy who treats me like I'm a regular girl, the one who desperately needs his bedroom cleaned and laundry washed but chooses to live in a mess and wear dirty clothes, because he's too polite to ask the girl he kisses for help."
"Wow," Carmine said. "I'd like to meet that motherfucker. — J.M. Darhower

I remember a huge tiredness coming over me, a kind of lethargy in the face of the tangled mess before me. It was like being given a maths problem when your brain's exhausted, and you know there's some far-off solution, but you can't work up the energy even to give it a go. — Kazuo Ishiguro

I'll mess up sometimes. I'll cry for no reason, burn food because I'm lost in another world while reading, snap at you because I'm having a bad day, and be completely irrational at times, but I'll love you, always. You make me so happy, so needed. — Melody Anne

Expel the object!" Freak shouts. "Regurgitate, you big moron!" and he gives me another thump and I cough up this yucky mess, but I'm still laughing so hard my nose is running. — Rodman Philbrick

Will you mess up my bed with me? — Angeline Kace

I'm sorry, Sawyer. I never meant to hurt you. I made a mess of things. You aren't going to have to watch Beau and me together. I'm stepping out of both your lives. You can get back what was lost."
Sawyer reached up and grabbed my hand. "Don't do that, Ash. He needs you. — Abbi Glines

Where are you? Have you arrived yet?" she asked eagerly.
"I have. I'm here and it's great. I love it."
"I knew you would!" cried Hannah. "So are you coming down? Help me pull a pint or two?"
"Yeah, sure. Give me half an hour or so, and I'll be there."
"Brilliant. See you soon."
"Bye," replied Layla, hanging up.
No time for eating then, she'd better unpack the car, sort out the bedraggled mess that she was, and get down to the pub. Start learning the ropes.
Hauling one of the bags upstairs, she went into her bedroom and plonked it on the bed. Before doing anything else, however, she couldn't resist peering out of the window again, having to imagine Gull Rock this time as the deepening night had hidden it completely. A year, she thought. That's all I've got, a year. Enough time to get over anyone, surely?
Taking in a deep breath then letting it slowly out, she bloody hoped so. — Shani Struthers

Now, I normally do not like it when people sing near me, much less at me. I don't care if they're good, bad, or mediocre. It's all the same. Unless you're signed to a major label with music I can find on iTunes, I don't want to hear your live performance. It's why I can't watch American Idol. I keep worrying the contestants will mess up and be embarrassed, and then I'll be embarrassed for them. — Lauren Morrill

You can ask why all day long if you want to. You can ask God why and your friends why and yourself why until you're buried in nothing but that single question, but you'll never get an answer. This side of heaven, time is the only thing that helps a little bit. So don't give in. Don't let the whys have it. Don't let them take advantage of you. They'll crush your heart and steal your peace and mess with your mind and wrap around you so tight you won't be able to breathe. Don't let the whys ruin your life, child. Every time they try to sneak up, push them aside and move forward. Trust me, it's the only way you can get on with living. — Amy Matayo

Impulsively, I threw up a new wall in my head. And suddenly I saw the situation for what it really was. Dante had me backed up against a tree, all right, but I did not want to make out with him.
"Demonstration finished," Dante said, his smile a bit too cocky for my liking.
"Next time choose a more appropriate demonstration," I said tensely. "Patch would kill you if he found out about this."
His smile didn't fade. "That's a figure of speech that doesn't work very well with Nephilim."
I wasn't in the mood for humor. "I know what you're doing. You're trying to set him off. This petty feud between the two of you will blow up to a whole new level if you mess with me. Patch is the last person you want to antagonize. He doesn't hold grudges, because the people who cross him tend to disappear quickly. And what you just did? That was crossing him. — Becca Fitzpatrick

I like that you challenge me. That's new. I like that you don't go easy on me. I like that you question everything. I want you to keep questioning everything. I like how you smell. I like seeing the fight in your eyes. I like seeing anger color your cheeks. I like hearing your breathing stop when I'm close to you and I like feeling your heart pick up its speed in your chest when were close like this. I like that a lot, actually, the sound of your heart beating. So alive, a frantic mess of beats. I like the feeling of you in my arms, the way our bodies align. I like watching your eyes close and knowing I'm the reason, the reason you're feeling this." -Everett — Whitney Barbetti

Are you okay, Maggie?" Logan asked, rousing me out of my mind-numbing speculations.
Heaving a big sigh, I turned to him and said, "I guess so."
"Are you still worried about visiting your mother?" he asked softly.
Nodding, I said, "A little. I'm just so confused about this whole time-space-brain twister thing. And I'm afraid I might say the wrong thing and mess everything up." I shook my head, trying to make sense of my thoughts. "I mean - what if my younger self should call my mother while I'm there visiting her? Is there really another version of me? Or by coming here from the future, did the younger me cease to exist? — Sharon Ricklin Jones

Got you all hot and bothered, did I?"
He sneered. "Exactly as you intended."
"Well, in a few hours, we can fuck until we're both limp and exhausted," she promised, giving him an exaggerated leer.
Kent wrapped an arm around her waist and pulled her barely clothed body back against him. "I'm not waiting for a few hours," he countered huskily, his mouth against the side of her throat and the vibrations making her shiver.
She shook her head, although she'd felt tingling pleasure between her legs at his words. "You'll have to. I'm all fixed up and pretty now and you're not going to get me sweaty and mess up my makeup before everyone arrives."
His other arm went around her too and his hands moved up to cup her breasts over the lace of her bra. Then his pelvis pushed into the top of her ass and she felt the hard evidence of his arousal. "I won't mess up your makeup. — Zannie Adams

I better go," Carter squeezed me once more and stood, grabbing his wallet from the coffee table. "I need to hit up the lottery if I want to get you out of this mess. Will you let me buy a monkey if we win, though?"
"Only if you buy me an island off the coast of Fiji."
"You crazy-ass woman. A monkey is so much cooler than an island."
"How about a monkey IN Fiji?"
"Now there's a woman after my own heart," Carter slapped his hand to his chest, sighing dramatically. "I'll let you know if we win." He started for the door.
"Uh huh."
"You'll know if we do. I'll be the one streaking on Pike Street. — Rachael Wade

I wake on the fiction couch deeply hungover, my head cracking, with Rachel telling me to get up. She's holding my eyelids open like she used to do in high school when we'd stayed up all night talking and then slept through the morning alarm. 'Get. Up. Henry.'
'What time is it? I ask, batting off her hands.
'It's eleven. The shop's been open for an hour. There are customers asking for books I can't find. George is yelling at a guy called Martin Gamble who's here to help me create the database. And as a separate issue, Amy's waiting in the reading garden.'
'Amy's here?' I sit up and mess my hair around. 'How do I look?'
'I decline to answer on the grounds that technically you're my boss and I don't want to start my new job by insulting you.'
'Thank you,' I say. 'I appreciate that. — Cath Crowley

Covering up the evidence?" Hunter drawled, appearing in the doorway and causing me to jump.
"Yes." I continued to apply as he leaned casually against the frame, watching me.
"Good idea, though it kinda makes me want to mess it all up again." Tingles shot through my body, and I glanced at him. "You're so bad." He arched his eyebrow. "You have no idea. — Lacey Weatherford

Very neat for a boy; always cleaned up his mess, no matter where he got it on me. He's Hispanic, so he's like, 'Now who's the wetback?' I'm like, 'Hey, still you. Get back in the kitchen, those dishes aren't going to do themselves. — Amy Schumer

Whew, is it cold in here, or is it just me? Trouble in paradise, princess?" I felt my face heat, and Puck shook his head. "Well, don't drag me into it. I learned long ago that you don't get in the middle of a lover's spat. Nothing ever goes as planned - people fall in love with the wrong person, someone ends up with a donkey head, and then it's a whole big mess. — Julie Kagawa

He likes you. You like him, you're just scared. Well," she glanced over her shoulder and dropped her voice, "unless you tell me he's some freaky psycho-killer ... " I rolled my eyes and shook my head. "Then I'm not letting you mess this up for yourself. Your creepy hermit status is officially over. — A&E Kirk

Your heart says not again
what kind of mess have you got me in?
But when the feeling's there
it can lift you up and take you anywhere. — Colleen Hoover

R wrote Delahaye about all that had happened to him and about what he, R, wanted:
My friend,
You're eating white flour and mud in your pigsty. I don't miss Charleville. I don't miss being a bored pig where the sun dries up all brains but sloth. Your brains or feelings're being dried up: dead pig Delahaye.
Emotions are the movers of this world.
Me: I'm thirsty. What I'm thirsty for - whom I'm thirsty for - I can't get so I drink poisons. I've got to free myself. From what? Pain? Oh - for more poisons. Maybe more poisons'll come and I'll go so far, I'll emerge. Something is trying to emerge from this mess.
I don't know how. — Kathy Acker

Unscripted, unedited, and wholly authentic people are almost universally admired, especially if they have flaws, are not afraid to make live, red-blooded mistakes, and rather than trying are busy simply being. Which is something you should consider hiring a tattoo artist to script across the palm of your hand: Be, Don't Try. "Oh my God, I can't do that. I would totally mess up." You better pray to the corn god that you do. Messing up is how you tell other people, "It's okay to like me, because I'm just like you." Everybody feels a bit like a dented can inside. Even the slickest, most polished person you can think of is more aware of their shortcomings and flaws than their talents and gifts. — Augusten Burroughs

Because the truth is, I wouldn't care if she lied to me, except for the fact that I love her. And once you love someone, you can't really put up with them lying to you. It just doesn't work. It makes things into a big mess. — Lauren Barnholdt

Where are you going?" Wesley asked in a semi-sleepy voice.
"Home." I pulled on my jeans. "I've gotta take a shower and get ready for school."
He pushed himself up on one elbow to look at me. His hair was a mess, brown curls falling into his eyes and sticking up in the back. "You can shower here," he offered. "I might even join you if you're lucky. — Kody Keplinger

He dropped his forehead to hers. I know I'm a little fucked up. Don't give up on me baby. I'm not saying that things will suddenly be perfect. I'm a guy, and guys can be stupid. I admit I need the room to mess up a little. I can't promise I won't piss you off again, but I can promise you that I'll never deliberately hurt you. Nothing is more important to me than you. Nothing. — Suzanne Wright