Carnal Urges Quotes

Once you are defiled, you can't get back your purity by any means, instead, you will only look for ways to be defiled over and over again.

If any woman opens her legs for you, don't feel so lucky to be fed with nonsense, she has been a bitch for a long time, and now its your own turn to get a share from her itching tunnel.

she had received a text message from him: I had the urge to text somebody who’s smart, hot, and sweet…but sending messages to myself is just pathetic, so hi.

Men say they love a strong woman, right up until they meet one.

I pause, examining his expression. “Why are you so quiet?” “I don’t plan murder out loud.

Take a deep breath and remember who the fuck you are.

Wait. I forgot. She’s not a woman. She’s a raging banshee who eats men’s sanity for supper.

Love knows not its own depth until the hour of separation.

I make the best use of what’s in my power, and take the rest as it happens.

I throw my hands in the air. “I’m not invincible!” “So that deal you made with the devil for the power to kill with run-on sentences didn’t include immortality?

You own me, Sloane. Every corner of my worthless black soul. Every piece of my corrupt black heart. You own it all, and you always will. I’m your slave, not the other way around. Never forget it.

I’m sorry I said that thing about burying the knife in your skull. I didn’t mean it.” “You did.” “Okay, that’s true. But I would’ve regretted it if I did. I would’ve cried really hard at your funeral.

I should’ve known. The hotter a man is, the faster you should run away from him. A beautiful man is a bottomless pit your self-worth can disappear into and never be seen again.

Wrong. Trust is a decision. You can make it between breaths.

I had the urge to text somebody who’s smart, hot, and sweet…but sending messages to myself is just pathetic, so hi.

Because she’s indestructible, like Styrofoam peanuts.

Shaking my head, I say, “I feel sorry for his mother. She should’ve swallowed instead.

Tell me what you’re thinking, baby.” “I’m thinking we’re a couple of lunatics.” That makes him chuckle. “Aye. But my crazy matches your crazy. That’s why it works.

If I was never knocked down, I’d never have discovered the strength it took to stand back up. And to keep getting up after every future kick, knowing that I could.

Create or arouse such unbridled forces and you built carnal fantasies of enormous complexity. You could lead whole populations around by their desires, by their fantasy projections.

Then he says gruffly, “Please don’t freeze me out. Be angry all you want, but don’t shut down on me. I need you right now. I won’t be able to think straight if you don’t communicate with me.

I watch him go through the preflight checks with a deep sense of awe. I thought he was pretty macho before, but this… Well, this wins the macho war. My ovaries are screaming in glee like a bunch of playground kids on sugar highs.

Yes. The principle. I only have a few of them, but they’re airtight. One is that I don’t cause other people’s suffering if I can help it. Another is that I own my shit. I don’t blame anyone else but me for what goes wrong in my life.

Okay. You go first. Do you really think I look like a camel?’ “No. I think you look like Rockefeller Center at Christmas, Japan in cherry blossom season, and the thousand vivid shades of green in the wild moors of Northern Ireland, all rolled into one.

Here are the rules.” Rules. For me? Hilarious. But I’m pretending to be cooperative, so I sit patiently and listen instead of laughing in his face. “One: I don’t tolerate disobedience. If I give you an order, you follow it.” Magic Eight Ball says: outlook not so good.

The more you try to believe in yourself, the more you actually do. Your mental self-talk is very powerful. You have to keep it positive.

No man could ever really own her. Like all unbroken spirits, she can’t be claimed.

You can’t control what moves you. The only thing in your control is the choice over whether or not you surrender to it.

He has no idea what’s happening. Honestly, there’s nothing more adorable than a befuddled man. Especially when they’re huge and armed.

He felt the same carnal urge to claim, to mate, to please her. But above that sang a new melody, one he recognized as ancient—the desire to care for her.

The mediation of a woman is capable of imposing on hatred certain qualities characteristic of affection, for example curiosity, carnal interest, the urge to cross the threshold of intimacy.

I’ve learned that no matter how well you think you know yourself, you can still be surprised. You can’t control what moves you. The only thing in your control is the choice over whether or not you surrender to it.

Archer tries not to think of his own state of purity, physically unsullied, yet now spiritually beyond redemption, his thoughts plagued by lithe limbs and brilliant blue eyes. Doctor Archer has never really understood women, nor has he ever had time for courtship; this is a sacrifice he has willingly made for his career. He thought - believed - for most of his adult life that his vocation was to tend the sick of mind. Romance was a frivolity, carnal urges something he successfully sublimated, resisting the drive to spoil himself. Now, in the overbearing loneliness of his 4am bed he touches himself in secret, panting and hungry and stunned by shame

But I'll still be trying to scrub your face and your taste and your sweet voice from my mind fifty years from now, because I already know nothing else will ever be able to compare to you. Nothing and no one will ever come close.

there are way too many little girls who’re being taught to smother their fire and stamp out their light so they can seem smaller to people who are scared of how big they really are. Or how big they could be, if only someone believed in them.

In Mexico, I first encountered the attitude that was missing from the optimistic sense of living in the United States: a tragic sense of life. Such a sense doesn’t force us into a somber cone of depression and futility; it urges the opposite. The tragic sense opens a human being to the exuberant joys of the present. To laughter, carnal ity, the comical varieties of love, to music and art, to the small human glories of the day.

I keep telling you this, gangster. I'm charming. By the time this is all over, you'll be head over heels in love with me.

I swallow several times, willing my queasy stomach to settle. “You drugged me?” “We had to. You’re surprisingly strong for someone who dresses like the Tooth Fairy.

that deal you made with the devil for the power to kill with run-on sentences didn’t include immortality?

The hotter a man is, the faster you should run away from him.

Boyfriends are like koi fish: a time-consuming and boring hobby.

Or is that normal? I don’t know. I’ve never visited Emotionville before. So far, it’s quite confusing. I wish I had a map.

As it turns out, that was the exact wrong thing to say. He regards me with entire cities burning to the ground in his eyes.

And who are you?” “The only one of me who ever has been or ever will be. Same as you. In a word: irreplaceable.

No. I think you look like Rockefeller Center at Christmas, Japan in cherry blossom season, and the thousand vivid shades of green in the wild moors of Northern Ireland, all rolled into one.

You may refer to me as Prince Merrick or simply Merrick for this trip. We are just two companions enjoying a simple horse ride together.” “I don’t bite.” “I thought…maybe your family would like to have it. To know you are…well cared for and…safe.” What the prince had done for him…drawing his likeness with such skill and for Cassius’s family…why would he do something like that? He couldn’t make sense of it, not from their time in the barn, nor from their ride today. The truth lingered there, teased the edges of his brain, but Cassius couldn’t let himself believe it. There was no way Prince Merrick could be interested in him. Unless it was as Valor said and what Cassius knew to be true: men sometimes lay with other men, even if just to satisfy their carnal urges

The pill doesn’t have a perfect success rate. And you can get pregnant during your period.” Sloane says, “And you can get the hell out of my room with that bullshit before I give you two black eyes, Nancy.

How the hell does a twenty-something yoga instructor who barely scraped through college, has never had a long-term boyfriend, and looks like she buys her clothes at a Tinker Bell estate sale get so confident?

If he didn’t know better, he’d think she needed protecting. Even with the knowledge that she was strong and powerful, the urge was there to hunt and gather food and thump his fists on his chest like a caveman. It was carnal. It was primal.

Shall the dire day break when life finds us merely husband and wife with passion not so much denied as neatly laundered and put aside and the old joyous insistence trimmed to placid coexistence? Shall we sometime arise from bed with not a carnal thought in our head look at each other without surprise out of wide awake uncandid eyes touch and know no immediate urge where all mysteries converge? Speak for the sake of something to say and now and then put on a display of elaborate mimicry of the past to prove that ritual reigns where once ruled love and calmly observe those bleak rites that once made splendour of our nights? Dear, when we stop being outrageous and no longer find contagious the innumerable ecstasies we find in rise of hand or leap of mind - not now or then, love, need we fear thus; those two sad people will not be us.

Since the dawn of time woman has been the root of all evil! The tool of Chaos, the accomplice in a conspiracy against the world and the human race! Woman is governed only by carnal lust! That is why she so willingly serves demons, in order to slake her insatiable urges and her unnatural wantonness!

No sooner had the Flowering taken root, so to speak, than your people rushed back to their private chambers, unleashed their carnal lusts and parental urges, and began reproducing faster than ever. Mean family size is greater now than five years ago, by .0072 persons, and your average citizen becomes a parent sooner by .0102 years.

One day the homely princess was going to visit her good friend Neddie, when suddenly she was abducted by the biggest, strongest, handsomest dog she had ever seen. He was the king of all the dogs—the top dog, so to speak—and famous for his bravery. Also for his intelligence. It was far superior to the wee camel princess’s intelligence. Which was rather pathetic, despite her delusions otherwise.” “You’re so lacking in imagination, there’s a hole in your head where your brain should be.

But God’s topics, the fall, the curse, sin, death, immortality, duty, redemption, faith, hope, judgment, hell, heaven, these transcendent subjects have an abiding, an overmastering common interest All men share it, because they are men. These assert their power over the human soul under every condition, and in spite of man’s natural carnality, with a force akin to their vastness. Honour God then, my young brethren, by urging no other truths than those he has given you, urging them with disinterested fidelity, and he will honour your ministry.

Gazing deep into my eyes, he says, “If you answer the door half naked again, I won’t be pleased.” “Oh. You talked to Kieran?” “Aye. And I could hear his hard-on through the phone. You’re not a child, so I’ll never tell you how to dress, but I am a jealous man. I don’t share. And I’m not Stavros. If it were me that night at La Cantina and another man slapped your arse as we walked by, he’d be dead before he drew another breath. Not because of my ego, but because anyone who disrespects you will pay a price. And if they disrespect you in front of me, the price will be especially severe.” He’s intense and deadly serious. It’s a testament to how fucked up our situation is that I think his words are deeply romantic.

His knee pressed between her legs then, rubbing against her and making her cry out into his mouth, and he did it again with the same result. Then his leg shifted and his hand replaced it, his fingers gliding through the folds to find her most sensitive spot. Claray stilled briefly, and then begun to suck frantically on his tongue as he began to rub his fingers gently over, then around, the treasure he'd found. Within moments she was panting, and writhing beneath him, some fine string inside her body tightening as taut as a bow. So caught up was she in that feeling that she hardly noticed when he broke their kiss and began sliding down her body, his mouth grazing over one breast and the other and then licking and nipping his way down across her stomach. She was vaguely aware of him urging her legs to open wider, so that he could settle between them. However, it wasn't until his fingers stopped their caressing and his head dipped down between her spread legs that she took notice. She was glancing down with confusion when he nuzzled his face between her thighs and lashed her most sensitive area with his tongue. When Claray gasped and bucked in shock, Conall grasped her upper thighs to hold her in place and pressed his mouth between her legs again. For one moment, she was too stunned to feel anything else as he began to caress the sensitive nub with his tongue, and then suckled at the lips around it. But that soon passed as her body responded to his hungry feasting. It was like nothing she'd ever experienced before, nothing she'd even imagined, It was all so raw and carnal and overwhelming and she didn't know what to do. Claray was quite sure this was not something the church would approve of. He could not give her his seed like this. This was--- "Oh God," she gasped, her thoughts scattering on the breeze as he began to suck on the most sensitive part of her. And then it became a mantra. "Oh God, oh God, oh God." She felt his finger push into her, and struggled against the hands holding her, wanting to move her hips, though she had no idea why, and couldn't with him holding her down. He was still caressing her with his mouth even as he withdrew the finger. He then pushed in again and again until something inside of Claray snapped and she cried out breathlessly, her body suddenly thrashing as pleasure overwhelmed her.

but the poor boy is in a fair way to becoming an alto, a counter-tenor for life.’ ‘Hoot,’ said Graham, grinning still. ‘Does the swelling affect the vocal cords?’ ‘The back of my hand to the vocal cords,’ said Stephen. ‘Have you not heard of orchitis? Of the swelling of the cods that may follow mumps?’ ‘Not I,’ said Graham, his smile fading. ‘Nor had my messmates,’ said Stephen, ‘though the Dear knows it is one of the not unusual sequelae of cynanche parotidaea, and one of real consequence to men. Yet to be sure there is something to be said in its favour, as a more humane way of providing castrati for our choirs and operas.’ ‘Does it indeed emasculate?’ cried Graham. ‘Certainly. But be reassured: that is the utmost limit of its malignance. I do not believe that medical history records any fatal issue – a benign distemper, compared with many I could name. Yet Lord, how concerned my shipmates were, when I told them, for surprisingly few seem to have had the disease in youth – ’ ‘I did not,’ said Graham, unheard. ‘Such anxiety!’ said Stephen, smiling at the recollection. ‘Such uneasiness of mind! One might have supposed it was a question of the bubonic plague. I urged them to consider how very little time was really spent in coition, but it had no effect. I spoke of the eunuch’s tranquillity and peace of mind, his unimpaired intellectual powers – I cited Narses and Hermias. I urged them to reflect that a marriage of minds was far more significant than mere carnal copulation. I might have saved my breath: one could almost have supposed that seamen lived for the act of love.

He’s wearing the same look my older brother used to wear when we were kids and he was about to deck me for being annoying. Naturally, it makes me smile wider. Men say they love a strong woman, right up until they meet one.

Two: you don’t speak unless you’re spoken to.” In what universe is that happening? Not this one.

Don’t sit like that.” “Like what?” He makes a dismissive motion with his hand to indicate my posture. “Like you’re on the ground in kindergarten class waiting for your teacher to start story time.

He watches me with a look of disgust. “Congratulations. You know how to hold your breath. It will come in handy after I’ve put the cement shoes on your feet and thrown you into the harbor.

You were dropped on your head a lot as a baby. That’s it, isn’t it?

My right hand was locked so tightly in a fist, it was starting to shake. My gaze was riveted to two people on the dancefloor, and it was taking every ounce of willpower I had to remain standing there in favour of destroying the man touching Darcy Vega. Seth Capella’s hands were roaming all over her as they danced like there was no one else here but them. They were staring at each other, exchanging flirtatious smiles and their mouths were getting all too close all too many times. Through the thump of the music and clamour of voices, it was difficult to focus on the words that passed between them, but I managed to catch a couple of sentences. “Fuck being enemies, I wanna be your friend tonight,” Seth purred in her ear, his fingers twisting into the blue ends of her hair and making me spit a snarl. Darcy laughed, clearly drunk as her fingers slid down his arm while his other hand dropped onto her ass, drawing her even closer and squeezing hard. No. “What kind of friends act like this?” she laughed again and he nuzzled the side of her head, a carnal look entering his eyes that made my canines sharpen. All rational thought was exiting my mind until I was nothing but an animal about to attack. I knew in that second I was going to do it. I was going to shoot over there, tear Seth Capella off of her and make him bleed for touching her like that. She was my gir- Source. “The best of friends,” he answered with a wolfish grin and I took a step forward, but suddenly Darius was there with a scowl the size of a Dragon’s tail, blocking my line of sight. “Well?” he demanded irritably like I’d just punched him in the cock. “Well what?” I sniped back and he frowned. “Oh right, yeah. We need to go hunting.” I gritted my teeth, crushing them to dust in my mouth as I forced my feet to move towards the exit, refusing to let myself look back. Darius walked stiffly at my side, seeming as pissed off as I did to be leaving and judging by how hard he’d been grinding himself against Tory Vega, I had to wonder if she was the reason. I glanced at my friend and caught him looking back. “What?” he snapped and I looked away again. “Nothing,” I grunted. “I’m just in the mood to kill something.” “Same. Let’s find the fucking Nymph and make it suffer.” His eyes turned to reptilian slits and a group of guys in our way scarpered aside as they saw us coming. I uncurled my still clenched right hand, my knuckles white as I flexed them and brought magic to my fingertips. Is she gonna go home with him? Is she gonna fuck him? She can’t. He’s a fucking Heir. The worst fucking Heir. The urge to go back was rising in me and I had to force my legs to keep moving away from that nightclub. There was a Nymph out here somewhere, that was my priority. Not whether or not Darcy Vega chose to fuck an Heir. My heart thumped a painful tune in my chest, continuing its plea with me to go back. To stop her from making the most stupid decision of her life. She was too good for that Wolf asshole. Too sweet. He didn’t deserve to get his hands on her flesh. I pictured her pinned beneath him and stopped dead in the street. (Orion POV)

That’s what I always tell myself when I’m not feeling one hundred percent. Remember who you are.” I can tell he doesn’t want to ask, but curiosity gets the better of him. “And who are you?” “The only one of me who ever has been or ever will be. Same as you. In a word: irreplaceable.

He murmurs, “Out of suffering have emerged the strongest souls.” “And the most massive characters are seared with scars.

I think you just wanted an excuse to come back in here and see me.” “And I think calling you an idiot would be giving you far too much credit.” I laugh. “Good one. How long did it take you to figure out how to use the internet to look that up, Grandpa?” “Your parents are brother and sister, aren’t they?” “Oh, look, we finally have something in common!

The hotter a man is, the faster you should run away from him. A beautiful man is a bottomless pit your self-worth can disappear into and never be seen again.

Oops. That’s my fault. I don’t want to get you in trouble, so you should probably go. When I see Declan next, I’ll pretend to be crying and blame it on you.” “Decent of you. Thanks.” “You’re welcome.” “By the way, what’s that stench?” “I used Declan’s cigarette lighter to burn one of his ties.

You also seem like you really dislike the opposite sex.” I smile at him. “Only a deserving few.” He ignores that. “And there is the matter of the way you handle pressure.” “What about it?” “You’re almost as brave as a man.” “What a coincidence, I was just thinking that about you.

I fold my hands in my lap and wait for him to control his temper. He sits back in his chair, straightens his tie, grinds his molars for a while, then says, “Here are the rules.” Rules. For me? Hilarious. But I’m pretending to be cooperative, so I sit patiently and listen instead of laughing in his face.

Who do you belong to?” “You.” “Who’s your master?” “You.” His voice softens. “And who thinks you’re the most precious angel in the world?” I swallow, suddenly fighting tears. His voice is so warm and full of feeling, and all at once, I’m overwhelmed. With a hitch in my voice, I whisper, “Y-you.” His lips brush my ear. “Aye, baby. And all I am is yours now, so take care of this monster you’ve enslaved.

You betrayed me. You betrayed me as father to the son who is father to the man. It was your responsibility as my father and keeper to protect me from trespasses, from things that go bump in the night, from the urges and yearnings of other grown men. You didn’t fulfill your duty and I was sold at the ripe age of seven to a carnal circus.

According to carnal judgment, man seems to know himself very well, when, confident in his understanding and uprightness, he becomes bold and urges himself to the duties of virtue and, declaring war on vices, endeavors to exert himself with all his ardor toward the excellent and the honorable. But he who scrutinizes and examines himself according to the standard of divine judgment finds nothing to lift his heart to self-confidence. And the more deeply he examines himself, the more dejected he becomes, until, utterly deprived of all such assurance, he leaves nothing to himself with which to direct his life aright.

tilted her head in gentle inquiry. Lavinia’s laugh floated on the autumn breeze. Thomas wanted suddenly to shout at Lady Hero, to make that gentle expression fall from her face, to shake her until she quit her questions and her perceptive looks, and then he wanted to jump from the carriage and plant a facer in that stupid young buck with Lavinia. But he did none of that, of course. Gentlemen of his rank never acted in such a way. Instead, he merely urged the horses on, waiting interminably to pass Lavinia’s carriage. “She’s in my past,” he said through cold lips. “I met her when I was rather down, I’m afraid.” He remembered when he was the man who she laughed up at, the way it had made his chest swell. And he remembered the sight of her in the morning light, so carnal, so wise. He’d been able to see every single line in her face, the slight sag to her breasts, and strangely it hadn’t made a whit of difference. She’d been

Justin Case and women do not mix. Man boobs, a love of Kings and Castles, and being tight with the "nerd" crowd certainly don't win him any points either. After rescuing Katie, his crush, it turns out she might not be the girl he thought she was, while Elyssa, the school's Goth Girl, turns out to be more. Can high school get any more confusing? Determined to improve himself, he joins a gym and meets a sexy girl that just oozes a "come hither, Justin" vibe. Until she attacks him in the parking lot, and Justin realizes she's no ordinary girl but a being with supernatural speed and strength. After a narrow escape and an excruciating migraine headache, he wakes up with supernatural abilities all his own: speed, strength, and the ability to seduce every woman he sees. While that might sound like the perfect combo for any hormonal teen, Justin is a hopeless romantic who wants his first time to be special. Is that too much to ask for? But he doesn't know what he is or how to stop his carnal urges. One thing is clear: If he doesn't find answers there are other more sinister supernaturals who would like nothing better than to make him their eternal plaything and do far worse than kill him.

Shall I light your candles?” he asked, not moving to open the door. “Not necessary. Until tomorrow, my lord.” He snorted involuntarily at that salvo. “What?” She stood her ground. “My name is Devlin.” He resisted the urge to invite—or order—her to use his name. He just informed her of it, then lifted his hand to cradle her cheek before leaning in and kissing her forehead. He paused, so his breath fanned across her skin for a moment before he pressed his lips to the spot between and above her eyebrows. For the sake of his own dignity, he needed to stop there. He brought his free hand up so her face was framed in his palms and told himself to step back. The sweet, female scent of her beguiled his wits; the feel of her skin so soft and warm against his callused palms stole his common sense. He angled his head and pressed his lips to her cheek, knowing that did he touch his mouth to hers, there would be no rescuing this moment. A carnal motive he could not have aspired to only days ago was threatening to trample honor, and some emotional need he could not even properly name was going to create disaster where a simple, good night kiss was intended. By force of will, he managed to drop his hands. “Sweet dreams, Emmie Farnum.” She

Mr. O’Donnell warned me that you were chatty. There’s nothing worse than a quiet woman, I told him, because it only means they’re up to no good. He seemed to think you were up to no good regardless.

Don’t worry. We’ve got it locked up tighter than a nun’s snatch. Uh, excuse the language.” “Snatch isn’t a bad word. Bureaucracy is.

I’d like to point out that trust is something that evolves over time. It’s organic. It’s based on experience.

I’m sure we can manufacture something convincing.” “I’m sure you could. Government workers are always manufacturing some kind of bullshit to cover up their incompetence.

You’re bipolar. Right? That’s the root cause of all your mystifying behavior. Bipolar disorder.” “No.” “Too bad. If you’d said yes, I would’ve been nicer to you.” “Why’s that?” “Because mental health problems aren’t a choice. You, on the other hand, are deliberately an asshole.

Live dangerously and you live right.

The way your mind works continues to amaze me. Or maybe confuse is the right word. I’ve never known anyone so able to accept things as they are without a shred of denial.” “I wasn’t always this pragmatic. Life kicked my ass pretty good when I was a kid. Lucky for me, too, because it brought out the fighter in me. If I was never knocked down, I’d never have discovered the strength it took to stand back up. And to keep getting up after every future kick, knowing that I could.

Is this where you keep the gas showers and the ovens?” Without a trace of emotion, she says, “This is the United States. There are no gas showers. We kill people in civilized ways.” When I arch my brows, she says, “By raising them on high fructose corn syrup and fast food.

Keep your friends close and your enemies closer. There’s no better way to destabilize a system than from the inside.

To tell the truth, I probably would’ve tried to break your nose even if I wasn’t on drugs. You were kidnapping me, after all. So there’s that. But in any case, I promise I won’t break anything else unless you make it necessary. In fact, I’ll make you a deal: if you need me to get into the trunk of a car or the cargo hold of a ship or onto another airplane or whatever, just ask politely, and I’ll be happy to oblige. This doesn’t have to be acrimonious.

mother. She should’ve swallowed instead.

I keep telling you, gangster. I’m charming. By the time this is all over, you’ll be head over heels in love with me.

The only one of me who ever has been or ever will be. Same as you. In a word: irreplaceable.

Sweet boy. What makes you think I needed saving?

don’t love labels, but if you need to call me something, you can just call me your queen.

I don’t love labels, but if you need to call me something, you can just call me your queen.

Can’t help it. You’ve got a face like an open book.” Unnerved by how throaty his voice is, how sweaty I am, and how my traitorous ovaries have decided to stage a coup on my entire nervous system, I shake my head. “No, I don’t. I’m as cool as a cucumber. I’m an ice cube. I’m a cat.

I’m going to bathe you. Then feed you. Then fuck you, in that order.

Holy cheese and rice, this man knows how to welcome a girl home properly.

Once it’s started, a thing as powerful as two hearts beating in time together is impossible to stop.

Women in love are notoriously poor judges of character.

A cage is no place for a wild thing, no matter how gilded the bars.

You’re safe with me. You can let your guard down. I’ll catch you if you need to fall.

I’m telling you that because I never like men. That sounded wrong. I’m not a man-hater. I think men are pleasant distractions. If the rest of my life is the main course, men are desserts. Enjoyable, forgettable treats. That’s a deliberate choice, based on some bad stuff that happened to me, and it’s served me well for a long time. It’s protected me. Until you.