Greedy Parents Quotes

A consequence of female self-love is that the woman grows convinced of social worth. Her love for her body will be unqualified, which is the basis of female identification. If a woman loves her own body, she doesn't grudge what other women do with theirs; if she loves femaleness, she champions its rights. It's true what they say about women: Women are insatiable. We are greedy. Our appetites do need to be controlled if things are to stay in place. If the world were ours too, if we believed we could get away with it, we would ask for more love, more sex, more money, more commitment to children, more food, more care. These sexual, emotional, and physical demands would begin to extend to social demands: payment for care of the elderly, parental leave, childcare, etc. The force of female desire would be so great that society would truly have to reckon with what women want, in bed and in the world.

...Her parents were going to a conference for the weekend. The conference was called "Lawyers are Lovely, Great and Superb: so Why Does Everyone Think that They are Liars, Greedy and Scum?" and Mr Thomson was doing a speech called "Ten Tips to Make Lawyers as Popular as Doctors.

All good parents taught their kids this same lesson: If everyone agreed to suffer pain or death rather than be treated unjustly, greedy people could never again gain power.

Gay and lesbian bars, safe havens for some, are rarely safe havens for bi people. But where does that leave us to go? It’s like the gay and straight communities are our parents and each thought the other would pick us up from school.

One of the fastest ways to dispel greed is for a person to realize how blessed he already is.

The Realistic Vision recognizes the need for strict moral education through parents, family, friends, and community because people have a dual nature of being selfish and selfless, competitive and cooperative, greedy and generous, and so we need rules and guidelines and encouragement to do the right thing.

There was another problem with Emma's father, difficult for a small child who already thought of herself as greedy - his way of trying to keep her attention, to bribe her, with gifts. On each vof her visits, he would appear with you presents, beautifully wrapped> And her confusion that she liked - and wanted - the presents, but not the man, was painful. He used 'sparkly Sellotape' and cut things into nice shapes and she wistfully writes: I wish he'd be able to translate that care into his treatment of me.

If corporations are people, they’re not the kind of people you’d want to take home to meet your parents. Imagine a person who is totally self-absorbed, greedy, phony, amoral at best, and downright immoral at worst. And if that’s not bad enough, corporate “people” are also rich, immune from physical injury, and, for all practical purposes, immortal.

Remember, Little Ones, everything is not important all the time. Only living is important all the time. Not things. Not money. Not more things and more endless money. Spend well the quality of your time. And yes, be greedy with your hours. If only to then give those hours away as the most precious gifts you have to offer to yourself, your family, and your friends. And yes, to my Little Ones.” –From The Legacy Letters–“The Everything and Nothing of Money.

How he longed to live a synthesis of all the lives he had lived and not lived, a life in which he held on to Line and his daughters while still having his parents age beside him, meeting the children he and Suchi would have borne. "I'm greedy," he acknowledged out loud. "We don't get to be greedy," Such said. "We get to be content.

Remember, Little Ones, everything is not important all the time. Only living is important all the time. Not things. Not money. Not more things and more endless money. Spend well the quality of your time. And yes, be greedy with your hours. If only to then give those hours away as the most precious gifts you have to offer to yourself, your family, and your friends.

And the horrible thing was: what if they were right? What if she lived her whole life and never really knew what love was? What if it was deeper than she ever imagined? What if she died without ever knowing what she missed? How would she know to even miss it? Love--deep, profound, soul-stirring love--happened on this planet, in this life. And she missed it. On the other hand, her mother had a point: babies were awful. They were selfish, greedy, expensive and ultimately resentful of what they later would decide you had withheld from them. You were, in effect, creating someone uniquely fine-tuned to discern your slightest faults and broadcast them from the highest point.

(Errour's Den) This is the wandring wood, this Errours den, A monster vile, whom God and man does hate: Therefore I read beware. Fly fly (quoth then The fearefull Dwarfe:) this is no place for liuing men. But full of fire and greedy hardiment, The youthfull knight could not for ought be staide, But forth vnto the darksome hole he went, And looked in: his glistring armor made “A litle glooming light, much like a shade, By which he saw the vgly monster plaine, Halfe like a serpent horribly displaide, But th’other halfe did womans shape retaine, Most lothsom, filthie, foule, and full of vile disdaine. And as she lay vpon the durtie ground, Her huge long taile her den all ouerspred, Yet was in knots and many boughtes vpwound, Pointed with mortall sting. Of her there bred A thousand yong ones, which she dayly fed, Sucking vpon her poisonous dugs, eachone Of sundry shapes, yet all ill fauored: Soone as that vncouth light vpon them shone, Into her mouth they crept, and suddain all were gone. [The monster] Lept fierce vpon his shield, and her huge traine All suddenly about his body wound, That hand or foot to stirre he stroue in vaine: God helpe the man so wrapt in Errours endlesse traine. His Lady sad to see his sore constraint, Cride out, Now now Sir knight, shew what ye bee, Add faith vnto your force, and be not faint: Strangle her, else she sure will strangle thee. That when he heard, in great perplexitie, His gall did grate for griefe and high disdaine, And knitting all his force got one hand free, Wherewith he grypt her gorge with so great paine, That soone to loose her wicked bands did her constraine. Therewith she spewd out of her filthy maw A floud of poyson horrible and blacke, Full of great lumpes of flesh and gobbets raw, Which stunck so vildly, that it forst him slacke His grasping hold, and from her turne him backe: Her vomit full of bookes and papers was, With loathly frogs and toades, which eyes did lacke, And creeping sought way in the weedy gras: Her filthy parbreake all the place defiled has. ... Her fruitfull cursed spawne of serpents small, Deformed monsters, fowle, and blacke as inke, Which swarming all about his legs did crall, And him encombred sore, but could not hurt at all. ... Resolv’d in minde all suddenly to win, Or soone to lose, before he once would lin; And strooke at her with more then manly force, That from her body full of filthie sin He raft her hatefull head without remorse; A streame of cole black bloud forth gushed from her corse. Her scattred brood, soone as their Parent deare They saw so rudely falling to the ground, Groning full deadly, all with troublous feare, Gathred themselues about her body round, Weening their wonted entrance to haue found At her wide mouth: but being there withstood They flocked all about her bleeding wound, And sucked vp their dying mothers blood, Making her death their life, and eke her hurt their good.

That’s all very convenient for you,’ says Garth. ‘At least just say you were greedy and you didn’t care a single damn. You could have simply stolen the thing.’ ‘He was asking me to take it to a museum. He trusted me,’ says Nina. ‘Trusted that I would take it to the right people. He’d known me since I was a kid, known my parents. You think he would have kept quiet when I sold it?

Wrong. The children have ruined Christmas for the adults.’ Agatha looked at him, puzzled. ‘How do you explain that?’ ‘They’ve come to expect to get exactly what they want. I know all this from friends of mine with children. Something new comes out in July, say. They clamour for it. No use saying, “Wait till Christmas.” They have to have it right away because it’ll be old hat by Christmas. They don’t want surprises. They want what they demand. So there are no shining faces under the Christmas tree, radiant with surprise and gratitude. Only complaints like, “Why did you buy me this computer game? It’s months old.” Greedy children and disappointed parents, that’s Christmas.

The purpose of education is not to make your kids more selfish, more greedy, more convinced of their own ideas or superiority. No, it’s to make them better citizens, better human

Here’s something that really surprises me: The more stuff I have, the more stuff I want. And so I looked around and saw that everyone else was the same way. It was not until I had a few things that I noticed how this works. The material stuff is addicting! Remembering my parents, I try to fight against the “stuff addiction.” I refuse to buy jewelry or trinkets. I don’t need expensive toys like Jet Skis or snowblowers. I keep the material things under control, and I banish thoughts of them from my brain. Besides, I am very busy. My life doesn’t include window-shopping or paging through mail-order catalogs by the pool or jaunts to compact disc stores or Home Depot. These are all invitations to spend money unnecessarily.… Greed is the destroyer of success. You cannot be creatively successful and greedy at the same time. I’m talking about both material and emotional greed here. Sorry,

Don’t you just look perfect with a baby.” My head turned to look at Kash’s grandma who had just sat down on my left. She was a short woman that, from my limited interaction with her, looked like she lived to feed her family and give hugs. She was absolutely adorable. My eyes automatically dropped to the sleeping baby, and I gave her a small smile as I laughed awkwardly. “Um . . .” How do you respond to that? “That was a compliment, dear. You look very comfortable like that, like you were made to hold a baby.” “Oh, well thank you.” That so didn’t sound like a compliment. It felt like it should be followed up with Kash telling me I should be barefoot in the kitchen. “So beautiful,” she murmured as she touched my engagement ring and looked happily back up at me. “Do you plan to give me more great-grandchildren soon? I’ll be here for only so long . . .” she trailed off and laughed heartily. “I don’t know about that, we haven’t really talked about it. We’re still young,” I cut off quickly when I realized Ava was barely older than me and already had two kids. But for shit’s sake I had barely turned twenty-two a couple months ago. I was still getting used to taking care of Trip, I didn’t even want to think about having a baby. “Of course you are, darling girl! You have all the time in the world. This is just an old woman greedy for more babies to spoil rotten. Though I’m sure with you and Logan being the only children in your families, both of your parents will be spoiling your children senseless.” My stomach dropped and I kept the smile plastered to my face. “Yeah, probably,” I murmured. A

Helping the poor isn’t always pleasant It’s no picnic helping the poor. There’s often no feeling of fulfillment. It’s work – like a lot of virtue is work. The poor, as fate would have it, are just like us. They’re mixtures of virtues and vices. Like us, they aren’t always grateful. Like us, they don’t always trust. Like us, they don’t always respond. Like us, they’re both generous and greedy. Like us, they’re sometimes wonderful and sometimes awful. Whatever happened to the noble poor? Some are out there, but mostly they are in Charles Dickens’ novels. The “poor” poor aren’t always so noble, and they are the hardest to deal with – which is probably why we don’t. Mental note: When you help the poor, you always receive more than you give – but it may not seem that way at the time. Another thing I learned is that food baskets at Thanksgiving, toys at Christmas are good as far as they go – but they don’t go very far. People easily talk about direct help to the poor on special occasions – clothes, food, money. Those fine things shouldn’t be taken lightly. But that’s the easy part. The hard part is trying to do something about the poor’s state in life. The discussion always slowed when we tried to focus on this. Where do you begin? What do you do? It’s hard when you deal with the causes. How can we give them basic skills to manage their lives? Can we make loans available to them through our own credit unions at considerable risk? Shouldn’t the state make better provision for dependent children? What about health insurance? How do we help them find work? How do we help them find work that pays a living wage? Why are single parents, usually women, abandoned so easily by a spouse? Mental note: Direct assistance is good. Tackling the causes is better.

It’s almost Thanksgiving,” she said. “You’re sure you want to stay here?” He shrugged. “Mel and Jack can’t leave—she has babies coming. Preacher and Paige are here—that’s family. If you want to go to Sam’s, I’ll do that with you. But I don’t want to go to L.A. yet.” “You aren’t keeping me a secret from the Valenzuelas, are you?” “God, no, I’ve told them all, every one of them. I even told them to look out—you’re bilingual and tricky. But I’m not ready to share you. In my mother’s Catholic household, it would be separate bedrooms because we’re not married. Even though I’m thirty-seven and she knows we’re living together—it’s her Catholic home. We could stay in a hotel, but I think we’ll visit later. Just give me a little more time. I’ve never been this happy in my life and all day long I look forward to when we’re finally alone together.” He played with the hair that fell to her shoulder. “I’m greedy. This is the best my life has ever been.” “What about Christmas?” she asked him. “What about it?” “Will your family be upset it we go to Dad’s for Christmas? Because my whole family plus Mel’s sister, brother-in-law and the kids will be there—and I want to be with them.” “Then that’s where we’ll be. We can join the Valenzuelas another time. You have to remember, mija—my family is so large that my parents don’t expect to have all the kids together with their own families every year. We’ll do Christmas with them another year.” Thanksgiving

Your son wouldn’t even be here if it wasn’t for the tuition payments parents like us pay.” She gestured to herself and the moms on either side of her. I could ignore a lot, but implying my son didn’t have a right to his education was a hard ass line. Forcing my jaw to unclench enough to speak, I said, “I pay the same tuition you do.” Her bell-chimed laugh burst out, but it was tainted, no longer carefree. “Please. You receive financial aid, and everyone here knows it. How do you think your son was able to join the team? Did you think it was free?” My face fell, and she scoffed. “People like you love working the system, and rather than be grateful, you turn your greedy rear around and butt into our social circle like you belong here.

How he longed to live a synthesis of all the lives he had lived and not lived, a life in which he held on to Linyee and his daughters while still having his parents age beside him, meeting the children he and Suchi would have borne. "I'm greedy," he acknowledged out loud. "We don't get to be greedy," Such said. "We get to be content.

Rav, can I talk to you? […] I really have to tell you something. […] Sorry, but I really do need to talk to you. […] I love you, Rav. […] I love you. […] No. I mean, I love you. Actual heart-pounding, heart-aching, love-of-my-life, romantic love, heart beating out of my chest when I think about you, love you. […] I follow you on Twitter. And Instagram. […] I know you do park runs once a fortnight. I know you make a really good steak and kidney pie. I know you love funny cat videos. […] I know you really hate Paul Hollywood. […] I know that when you were fourteen you got your best mate Jonesy who was in my Business Studies class to put a note in my rucksack asking if I’d go out with you and I said yes and we went to Fat Mike’s All-You-Can-Eat Buffet for our first date and I was so nervous I hardly ate anything which kind of defeated the object of Fat Mike’s All-You-Can-Eat Buffet but I didn’t want you to think I was greedy and you had corn on the cob and it got all stuck between your teeth and all night all I could think of was that sweetcorn and how if you kissed me it was going to go in my mouth and I really wanted you to kiss me but I didn’t want all your sweetcorn in my mouth. […] That year we went out was honestly the happiest year of my life. […] We […] knew how we felt. Fifteen is a formative age. And if my parents hadn’t split up and Mam got a job down the country. […] What I felt for you I’ve never felt for anyone else. […] Nothing’s come close. Standing here with you now, it doesn’t matter how long it’s been. I feel the same fizzy butterflies in my stomach when you look at me. I feel awake. […] Maybe I shouldn’t say this but I’m glad there’s an asteroid, cos it’s the kick I needed. Seeing that announcement earlier, my life flashed before my eyes and it was… shit. And after, in the office on my own, your face just kept popping into my mind until you were all I could think about. I’ve wasted so much time but I’m here now. And I’m asking you – last-chance saloon. And I know I talk a lot but – […] Yeah. ‘She never says one word when she can say ten’ my gran used to say. Well, here’s three – I love you. I really do. Sorry, that was six. And that was another four. I just wanted to leave it at ‘I love you’ but I’ve spoiled it now. Are you going to say something? Sorry, that was another six.

She cursed Lovingdon for not taking her problem seriously, but then she supposed it wasn’t truly a serious problem. No one would go hungry, be without shelter, or die because of her choice. And if she didn’t choose, her parents weren’t likely to disown her. She supposed she could live very happily without a husband, but it was the absence of love that was troubling. As far as she knew, no one had ever been madly, deeply, passionately in love with her. She believed that a woman should experience the mad rush of unbridled passion at least once in her lifetime. Was she being greedy to want it permanently?

The New (Tongue-in-Cheek) Rules for Teachers 2013 You may never complain and if you do, you will be labeled greedy and lazy. You will be held responsible for the performance of your classroom, regardless of socio-economic background, learning ability, and home life. You may not drink socially if a parent or coworker finds it offensive. Your personal opinions must always reflect the general consensus around you, even when these change. Any past indiscretions will come back to haunt you. You may not participate in any form of social networking or hold an online identity. Do as the politicians say, not as they do.

He wasn't wearing a shirt. Alert, alert! August Hodges was not wearing a shirt. Her greedy eyes inhaled the wall of delicious flesh that defined his magnificent back. Muscles rippled in perfect synchronized motions as he lifted his arm. Scrumptious, delicious brown skin her lips and tongue longed to taste. Dampness instantly settled between her legs. She must have made a whimper full of intense hunger, or maybe he just sensed he was no longer alone--- and she was going to go with the second, less embarrassing option--- because he turned. Holy fuck! The front was better than the back. He was a professional athlete who took his fitness seriously (even though he owned a cupcake shop franchise), so she shouldn't be shocked by how fucking good he looked. But it was one thing to be intellectually aware of something and another to be confronted with it up close and personal. A quick perusal registered an eight-pack. A trail of hair bisected his abs and led to... She jerked her eyes upward. His eyebrows lifted. "Sloane?" His tone was amused. No doubt her tongue was hanging out her mouth like a dog eagerly tracking the bowl of water its parent carried. Dignity. She needed to find it, and soon. She lifted a hand as he reached for the teal Sugar Blitz polo on his desk. Let a mocking, flirty smile spread across her lips. "Please stop on my behalf." He shot her a look. "I do so appreciate being treated like a piece of meat." The finest, rarest cut of beef. Filet mignon.

Again, think about how different history might have been if more parents had been parents. If [insert villain] had been raised better. If [insert greedy businessman] had been made to feel enough. If [insert heartbreaking victim] had been protected. If [insert anonymous nobody] had been equipped to fulfill their potential. If somebody had told [insert powerful person] they were proud of them.

Valorizing boredom is the other half of the Greedy Child Fallacy.

In the garden there were small hard pears that you could lift from a tree, and tulips and peonies and hot pink azaleas that vexed me with their greedy bloom.

I want my parents’ restaurant to survive.” He shakes his head. “Fuck that, I want them to thrive. Matter of fact, I don’t want a single door from a struggling business owner in this town to close due to the corrupt and greedy fucks demanding so much of what they break their backs for.” “Modern-day John Dillinger?” Dom nods approvingly, speaking of one of his heroes. “I can get behind that.

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