Glutton For Punishment Quotes

Gussie, a glutton for punishment, stared at himself in the mirror.

Now that I think about it, you’d have to be a glutton for punishment to keep coming near me given my acerbic personality where you’re concerned. (Tory)

And why not?” “You know why! This is a bad idea.” “Perhaps I like a challenge.” “Perhaps you’re a glutton for punishment!” “Perhaps I am in love.

She was the one person he’d hoped to avoid as much as possible when he’d taken his place as Sheriff of Maxville. It wasn’t that he disliked her, that was the problem. Despite his better judgment and a glutton for punishment, he still cared too damn much for the woman.

People thought he was a glutton for punishment, that he liked getting dumped. But it wasn't like that. He could just never see anything coming, and as he lay on the solid, uneven ground with Hassan pressing too hard on his forehead, Colin Singleton's distance from his glasses made him realize the problem: myopia. He was nearsighted. The future lay before him, inevitable but invisible.

No matter what I attempt, even if it’s the most simple of tasks, it always ends in failure. Unfortunately, I find that my life is one big regret after another. Yet, after all these years, I still don’t know when to give up. Is it my fault to keep trying when the results are always the same? Is it impossible for me to make things right? Even if I’d try to give up, I don’t think I could. It’s not in my nature to sumbit in the face of disappointment. In the end, I guess I’m just a glutton for punishment. I really am an idiot…

This is torture, but it feels good too. What can I say? I’m a glutton for punishment. Pain is pleasure and all that. Whatever, we’re all allowed to have kinks.

Checking the address, he knocked on the door. The door opened a crack. “We’re closed.” He recognized those violet eyes. His throat went dry. “Oh. You again.” Her eyes narrowed as she chuckled. “You must have women throwing themselves at you with lines like that. What are you doing here?” “I came to see if Flynn Enterprises has made an offer to buy your property.” His gaze wandered against his better judgement. On his ship, she’d been wearing jeans and a t-shirt. Now her curves were covered by a quality replica of a pirate’s frock coat, complete with deck boots, a bandana covering her hair, and a single hoop earring. “Didn’t take you for a pirate earlier today.” “You seriously came over here to talk to a stranger about private financial information, and then you have the balls to comment on her work attire?” She raised a brow. “We’re hardly strangers.” He struggled to hold back a smile and offered his hand. “I don’t think I introduced myself earlier. I’m Colton. Colton Hayes.” She looked at his hand and finally opened the door. “Skye Olson. And apparently I’m a glutton for punishment.

Life at sea is hard. And often deadly. (Morgan) Then why do you do it? (Serenity) Because we love it. (Morgan) A glutton for punishment, aren’t you? (Serenity)

Truth be told, I was a glutton for punishment.

Because I’m a glutton for punishment, I guess. Or because I’m the cat curiosity is scheduled to kill in approximately six hours.

I must be a glutton for punishment because getting turned down by her has become one of my favorite pastimes.

I seem to be a glutton for punishment.

Left alone in the room with Gavin, Alex let out a sigh. "I fear I won't be able to find a way out of this. How did his even happen? I went out of my way to avoid attracting suitors last night." Leaning back in his chair, Gavin leveled Alex with a serious look. "You've learned your first lesson, Minx. Men chase that what seems unattainable." "No. What I learned was that mean are gluttons for punishment. Why 'chase' me when they could catch any number of eligible young females from last evening?" "Silly girl... because chasing you makes for more of a challenge--and more of a reward.

If I knew the future, if I knew Gideon would shatter my world and there was nothing I could do to change it, I would still be with him. Not because I'm a glutton for punishment, but because I don't want my life to be so carefully curated with what-ifs that I don't live. And that's tough for me. My brain, logic, tell me that's stupid, but sometimes in here wins out." I rubbed a hand over my chest. "And I want it to win with this.

Wesley was playing Soulcalibur IV. And because I’m a glutton for punishment, I’d challenged him. My God, I had to find something I could beat him at! And you know, something about beating the shit out of an animated character really made me feel better. Before I knew it, I wasn’t even worried about Mom or Dad. Things would be okay. They had to be. I just had to be patient and let things happen. And in the meantime, I had to kick Wesley’s ass… or try, at least.

I pulled my chair up to the table and Alex sat down, following suit, unable to guard a smile from breaking onto his lips. He was handsome; I had to give him that. His hair was perfectly gelled and his face was smooth and free of stubble. I could even detect the scent of cologne, something I knew him to rarely wear. “I didn’t expect you to show up,” he admitted. “Then why’d you invite me?” I hoped that I hadn’t sounded rude. He chuckled and tucked his napkin into his lap. I did the same. “I guess I’m just a glutton for punishment.

Fifteen years later, in 1601, Thomas Wright’s The Passions of the Minde was devoted to showing man how wretched he had become through his inability to control his passions. This study, designed to help man know himself in all his depravity, emphasised sin rather than salvation, claiming that the animal passions prevented reason, rebelled against virtue and, like ‘thornie briars sprung from the infected roote of original sinne’, caused mental and physical ill health.20 Despite its punitive message, the book went into further editions in 1604, 1620, 1621 and 1628, suggesting that the seventeenth-century reader was a glutton for punishment.

even as he knew what kind of parent he’d become, the kind that used to make him gag as recently as two months ago. The ones who blithely assumed their online friends were gluttons for punishment. Here’s my baby lying on his back! And here’s my baby also lying on his back! And how about this one: blurry baby on his back! Good God, the vanity of it all, the epic self-centeredness. He knew all this, and still he uploaded eleven pictures of Brian.

There’s just one thing I don’t understand,” she remarked, setting the periodical aside for a moment. “And that is?” She tucked her skirts around her legs, denying him further glimpses of her ankles. “Would you by chance know what gamahuching is?” Grey would have thought himself far beyond the age of blushing, but the heat in his cheeks was unmistakable. “Good lord, Rose.” His voice was little more than a rasp. “That is hardly something a young woman brings up in casual conversation.” Oh, but he could show her what gamahuching was. He’d be all too happy to crawl between those trim ankles and climb upward until he found the slit in her drawers… Rose shrugged. “I suppose it might be offensive to someone of your age, but women aren’t as sheltered as they once were, Grey. If you won’t provide a definition, I’m sure Mr. Maxwell will when I see him tonight.” And with that threat tossed out between them, the little baggage returned her attention to her naughty reading. His age? What did she think he was, an ancient? Or was she merely trying to bait him? Tease him? Well, two could play at that game. And he refused to think of Kellan Maxwell, the bastard, educating her on such matters. “I believe you’ve mistaken me if you think I find gamahuching offensive,” he replied smoothly, easing himself down onto the blanket beside her. “I have quite the opposite view.” Beneath the high collar of her day gown, Rose’s throat worked as she swallowed. “Oh?” “Yes.” He braced one hand flat against the blanket near her hip, leaning closer as though they were co-conspirators. “But I’m afraid the notion might seem distasteful to a lady of your inexperience and sheltered upbringing.” Doe eyes narrowed. “If I am not appalled by the practice of frigging, why would anything else done between two adults in the course of making love offend me?” Christ, she had the sexual vocabulary of a whore and the naivete of a virgin. There were so many things that people could do to each other that very well could offend her-hell, some even offended him. As for frigging, that just made him think of his fingers deep inside her wet heat, her own delicate hand around his cock, which of course was rearing its head like an attention-seeking puppy. He forced a casual shrug. Let her think he wasn’t the least bit affected by the conversation. Hopefully she wouldn’t look at his crotch. “Gamahuching is the act of giving pleasure to a woman with one’s mouth and tongue.” Finally his beautiful innocent seductress blushed. She glanced down at the magazine in her hands, obviously reimagining some of what she had read. “Oh.” Then, her gaze came back to his. “Thank you.” Thank God she hadn’t asked if it was pleasurable because Grey wasn’t sure his control could have withstood that. Still, glutton for punishment that he was, he held her gaze. “Anything else you would like to ask me?” Rose shifted on the blanket. Embarrassed or aroused? “No, I think that’s all I wanted to know.” “Be careful, Rose,” he advised as he slowly rose to his feet once more. He had to keep his hands in front of him to disguise the hardness in his trousers. Damn thing didn’t show any sign of standing down either. “Such reading may lead to further curiosity, which can lead to rash behavior. I would hate to see you compromise yourself, or give your affection to the wrong man.” She met his gaze evenly, with a strange light in her eyes that unsettled him. “Have you stopped to consider Grey, that I may have done that already?” And since that remark rendered him so completely speechless, he turned on his heel and walked away.

A glutton for punishment, she'd been steadily falling for Reid since the moment she set eyes on her five years ago. Could you really love someone from afar, without even knowing them? Of course not, she told herself. But getting to know Reid had only made her feelings stronger. As irrational as it was, she knew she was falling in love.

The Ballad of Harry Lime by Stewart Stafford Harry found existence overrated, And its shadow, morality, so outdated, Scurrying rats down here in the sewer, Porcine gluttons in punished manure. Grand aspirations from primordial slime, Lifting up the rock from time to time, Samson, destroying a temple of hypocrisy, And every pillar - hope, faith and charity, They'd had him from baptism's font, Trapped before wording his wants, A heel dipped in brackish liturgy, Silent collusion in mass duplicity. For those who remained in smoky rubble? Rudely awakened from a cocoon bubble: An obelisk erected to grotesque finance, Charon’s fee for a Stygian dance. © Stewart Stafford, 2023. All rights reserved.

Attending a Marriage Retreat For those who are married, it’s time now to fall in love all over again. Whether you are renewing your wedding vows or just want to attend a marriage retreat and rejuvenate your marriage, now is the time to do it. For thirty-plus years, you have dedicated your waking days to your profession, but now those waking days are filled with being at home with your spouse. Uh, yes, it’s just the two of you day in, day out, till death do you part. You might be saying, “Oh my, we haven’t had this much alone time together since we first started dating!” Now is a great time to learn how to live together every day. Make an annual pilgrimage to a marriage conference; you get to travel, you get to be with your mate, and you get to have fun. But don’t forget: pick a location that you have never been to before or somewhere the both of you will enjoy seeing together after the conference. 50 Organizing a Family Reunion So, you’re a glutton for punishment?

Are you going to stand there with your mouth open, or are you finally going to get me down?” I crossed my arms and stepped back, assessing the situation. “I don’t know,” I said, rubbing my lips. “I’m thinking I might strap this tape back over your mouth.” She narrowed her eyes. “You wouldn’t dare.” “I would. But fortunately for you, I’m a glutton for punishment.

Like a glutton for punishment, he reached behind his seat and pulled out the ten-year-old answering machine that he’d kept in his apartment the entire time he’d been deployed. He took another chug on the bottle and closed his eyes, pressing play. Ackerman’s gruff voice filled his tiny trailer and flooded his mind with memories and pain. “What’s

What are you making for dinner?” She grins at me, and dips her face into her shoulder like the question embarrassed her. “What would you like?” “Anything you want to make.” She lifts her shirt and smells it. “But I need a shower, because I smell like a kid threw up on me over and over.” I walk close and sniff her. “You kind of do.” She scrunches up her face. “Need help with your shower?” I grin at her and waggle my eyebrows. “Not unless you’re a glutton for punishment.” I

I fear I won’t be able to find a way out of this. How did this even happen? I went out of my way to avoid attracting suitors last night.” Leaning back in his chair, Gavin leveled Alex with a serious look. “You’ve learned your first lesson, Minx. Men chase that which seems unattainable.” “No. What I learned was that men are gluttons for punishment. Why ‘chase’ me when they could catch any number of eligible young females from last evening?” “Silly girl…because chasing you makes for more of a challenge—and more of a reward.” Alex offered an amused snort. “I assure you, my lord. Considering my feelings about being ‘caught,’ I would provide little, if any, reward.” While his body remained relaxed, his eyes narrowed on her and his voice deepened as he responded, “On the contrary, Alex. Your resistance to marriage would make the reward of successfully courting you that much sweeter. Turning your desire for spinsterhood into a desire for something else would be quite a coup for any man. Which is why all of these men”—he indicated the room with a lazy wave of his hand—“have thrown their hats in the ring.” Feeling

I was nothing but the poster child for being a glutton for punishment. ****

I’d known my body was a traitor, responding to men I had no business wanting, so it shouldn’t have come as a surprise when I instinctively relaxed into his rock-hard body like honey on a hot biscuit. I’d never been so close to him before. If the feel of his strength around me hadn’t been intoxicating on its own, his smoky sandalwood scent was more than enough to muddle my thoughts. I was a glutton for the worst sort of punishment.

I don’t know what that is, but it sounds boring.” “You’re insufferable.” “So you keep saying, yet you missed me and you’re on a date with me. What does that say about you?” “That I’m a glutton for a beautiful punishment.” “You should look into that. Doesn’t sound healthy.” “I did. There’s no cure, I’m afraid.

But maybe he’s right—wanting that might make me a glutton for punishment. And oh how sinister that punishment would be.

I suppose I am a glutton for punishment really, voluntarily attending a wedding to watch the love of my life marry another woman.

Beau.” Her eyes flip open, searing me with the heat dancing in their depths. “I want it.” “I know, baby. But we’re not rushing this.” I swipe myself through her folds again, because I am a glutton for punishment. “I want to make it so good for you, Bailey.

I was a glutton for the worst sort of punishment.

Josh was the human version of ice cream in the freezer when you’re on a diet. He was my type, and I was sex deprived and not a particular glutton for punishment. Few men could spar with me when I was at my saltiest, and running that gauntlet was practically foreplay for me. I didn’t feel the need to torture myself unnecessarily by subjecting myself to it on a daily basis.

I think you may be a glutton for punishment. No, Ana. I’m just in love with you.

I’m a glutton for punishment.

Josh was the human version of ice cream in the freezer when you’re on a diet. He was my type, and I was sex deprived and not a particular glutton for punishment. Few men could spar with me when I was at my saltiest, and running that gauntlet was practically foreplay for me.

Josh was the human version of ice cream in the freezer when you’re on a diet. He was my type, and I was sex deprived and not a particular glutton for punishment.

I shook my head. "You know I ain't never going to be good enough for her. She can't fall in love with me, you know as well as I do that nothing good is going to come of her staying with me." "Then why do you stay with her? Why, if you seem to think that this is a bad idea, do you stay with her?" I raked my fingers through my hair. "I don't know! Maybe I'm stupid? A glutton for punishment." Jackson pointed his beer at me. "Or maybe you love her too and that scares the shit out of you.

The answer arrived in the next heartbeat and kicked me in my shins. It’s because I’m a glutton for punishment, a people pleaser, and terrible with rejection.