Worse Quotes (displaying: 1 - 30 of 1385 quotes )
Unjust laws exist; shall we be content to obey them, or shall we endeavor to amend them, and obey them until we have succeeded, or shall we transgress them at once? Men generally, under such a government as this, think that they ought to wait until they have persuaded the majority to alter them. They think that, if they should resist, the remedy would be worse than the evil. But it is the fault of the government itself that the remedy is worse than the evil. It makes it worse. Why is it not more apt to anticipate and provide for reform? Why does it not cherish its wise minority? Why does it cry and resist before it is hurt? Why does it not encourage its citizens to be on the alert to point out its faults, and do better than it would have them?
Maybe that's what Hell is, in the end. All of your wrongful shit played out there in front of you while you're being pumped from behind by someone you've hurt. That you've screwed over in life. Or worse, worse still...some person who doesn't really love you anymore. No one to ever look at again, make contact with. Just you being fucked as your life splashes out across this big headboard in the Devil's bedroom. Maybe. Even if that's not it, even if Hell is all fire and sulfur and that sort of thing, it couldn't be much worse than that.
Here is something I learned in 1922: there are always worse things waiting. You think you have seen the most terrible thing, the one that coalesces all your nightmares into a freakish horror that actually exists, and the only consolation is that there can be nothing worse. Even if there is, your mind will snap at the sight of it, and you will know no more. But there is worse, your mind does not snap, and somehow you carry on. You might understand that all the joy has gone...
Scarlett, I don't know just when it was that the bleak realizationcame over me that my own private shadow show was over. Perhaps inthe first five minutes at Bull Run when I saw the first man Ikilled drop to the ground. But I knew it was over and I could nolonger be a spectator. No, I suddenly found myself on the curtain, an actor, posturing and making futile gestures. My little innerworld was gone, invaded by people whose thoughts were not mythoughts, whose actions were as alien as a Hottentot's. They'dtramped through my world with slimy feet and there was no placeleft where I could take refuge when things became too bad to stand. When I was in prison, I thought: When the war is over, I can goback to the old life and the old dreams and watch the shadow showagain. But, Scarlett, there's no going back. And this which isfacing all of us now is worse than war and worse than prison--and, to me, worse than death. . . . So, you see, Scarlett, I'm beingpunished for being afraid.
This is hurting me a lot more than it’s hurting you," he said. It was his standard line, but I knew that this time he was right. Worse than the boil was the stuff that came out of it. What got to me, and got to him even worse, was the stench, which was unbearable, and unlike anything I had come across before. It was, I thought, what evil must smell like—not an evil person but the wicked ideas that have made him that way. How could a person continue to live with something so rotten inside? And so much of it!
Feminism is itself a challenge. Feminism is a challenge to the way things are in the world. It is by definition an oppositional movement, because it’s trying to accomplish something. I’ve never felt like feminism was a consciousness raising effort in isolation. Everything about feminism is about getting something in the world to get better for women, and to get the world to be less stupid on gender bifurcation terms. I think that feminism over time gets better, or it gets better and worse and better and worse at achieving the goals that it’s trying to achieve, but the overall mission stays the same. I guess I don’t think of it as feminism versus anti-feminism; I sort of think of it as feminism versus the world. I don’t think of it as a competition; there’s no winning. In feminism, you’re always trying to make stuff better. It’s opposition to which you cannot attribute a tally.
America is now wholly given over to a damned mob of scribbling women, and I should have no chance of success while the public taste is occupied with their trash--and should be ashamed of myself if I did succeed. What is the mystery of these innumberable editions of The Lamplighter (by Maria Susanna Cummins), and other books neither better nor worse? Worse they could not be, and better they need not be, when they sell by the hundred thousand.
There's nothing worse than having someone moping around feeling sorry for themselves, is there?"A damned nuisance," he agreed lightly as he drew her into the private car. "How much did you take me for in there?"It took her a minute to realize he'd changed the subject. "Oh, I don't know-five, six hundred."I'll put breakfast on your tab," he said as the doors opened to his and Serena's suite. Her laugh pleased him as much as the hug she gave him."Just like a man," Serena stated as she came into the room. "Waltzing in with a beautiful woman at the crack of dawn while the wife stays home and changes the baby." She held a gurgling Mac over her shoulder. Justin grinned at her. "Nothing worse than a jealous woman.
And I thought how sad it was that, for all our sophisticated intellect, for all our noble aspirations, our aggressive behavior was not just similar in many ways to that of the chimpanzees? it was even worse. Worse because human beings have the potential to rise above their baser instincts, whereas chimpanzees probably do not.
you see how strangely history repeats itself. Here and now in Bosnia we are seeing images like those of the second world war. I remember that war very well. I was 16 when it began , and 20 when it ended . Then, too, there were Chentniks and Ustasha, and they are again. the difference is that these Chetniks are worse than the Chetniks of that time, these Ustasha worse than those Ustasha. I can say this with complete confidence , because Ustasha of that time didn't destroy the Old Bridge , nor the mosques of Mostar , and these have done so.
We may know that the work we continue to put off doing will be bad. Worse, however, is the work we never do. A work that’s finished is at least finished. It may be poor, but it exists, like the miserable plant in the lone flowerpot of my neighbour who’s crippled. That plant is her happiness, and sometimes it’s even mine. What I write, bad as it is, may provide some hurt or sad soul a few moments of distraction from something worse. That’s enough for me, or it isn’t enough, but it serves some purpose, and so it is with all of life.