I Wanna Be Loved Correctly Quotes

If using 'was' could be deemed gramatically, or atleast emotionally correct, in the sense that it could relate to something that you actually couldn't do in the past, but want to do right now, then i wanna say, I was sorry, for everything...

He’s liable to wanna whip that ass of yours. Hell, you’re fuckin’ his twenty year old daughter. Trashy assed biker fucking his rich daughter. Yep, I see a fight comin’ out of this,” he jokingly clenched his fists and punched them in the air. “Twenty-two, she’s twenty-two,” I corrected him. “Oh hell, my bad, Doc. He’ll be fine with it then. That’ll make all the difference in the world,” he said as he nodded his head.

I never went to college. I don’t believe in college for writers. I think too many professors are too opinionated and too snobbish and too intellectual. And the intellect is a great danger to creativity because you begin to rationalize and make up reasons for things instead of staying with your own basic truth--- who you are, what you are, what you wanna be. I’ve had a sign over my typewriter for twenty-five years now which reads, “Don’t think.” You must never think at the typewriter--- you must feel, and your intellect is always buried in that feeling anyway. You collect up a lot of data, you do a lot of thinking away from the typewriter, but at the typewriter you should be living. It should be a living experience. The worst thing you do when you think is lie — you can make up reasons that are not true for the things that you did, and what you’re trying to do as a creative person is surprise yourself — find out who you really are, and try not to lie, try to tell the truth all the time. And the only way to do this is by being very active and very emotional, and get it out of yourself — making things that you hate and things that you love, you write about these then, intensely. When it’s over, then you can think about it; then you can look, it works or it doesn’t work, something is missing here. And, if something is missing, then you go back and reemotionalize that part, so it’s all of a piece. But thinking is to be a corrective in our life. It’s not supposed to be a center of our life. Living is supposed to be the center of our life, being is supposed to be the center, with correctives around, which hold us like the skin holds our blood and our flesh in. But our skin is not a way of life. The way of living is the blood pumping through our veins, the ability to sense and to feel and to know, and the intellect doesn’t help you very much there. You should get on with the business of living. Everything of mine is intuitive. All the poetry I’ve written, I couldn’t possibly tell you how I did it. I don’t know anything about the rhythms or the schemes or the inner rhymes or any of these sorts of thing. It comes from 40 years of reading poetry and having heroes that I loved. I love Shakespeare, I don’t Intellectualize about him. I love Gerard Manley Hopkins, I don’t intellectualize about him. I love Dylan Thomas, I don’t know what the hell he’s writing about half the time, but he sounds good, he rings well. Let me give you an example on this sort of thing: I walked into my living room twenty years ago, when one of my daughters was about four years old, and a Dylan Thomas record was on the set. I thought that my wife had put the record on; come to find out my four-year-old had put on his record. I came into the room, she pointed to the record and said, ‘He knows what he’s doing.’ Now, that’s great. See, that’s not intellectualizing, it’s an emotional reaction. If there is no feeling, there cannot be great art.” 

Katelyn blows Cindy Lou a kiss with a big "Mwah! You wanna stay with Auntie Katelyn tonight, sweet girl?" Cindy Lou smiles, kicking her pink-striped stock-covered feet, and then returns the kiss. Except it's more like she blows a raspberry, and orange baby food goes everywhere, getting all over James and dribbling down Cindy Lou's chin. "Sum of a bifch!" he shouts in shock, disgust wrinkling his brow. "Oh gawd, it's in ma mouf! I 'eed a 'apkin!" We're all fighting back laughter as Sophie, who hasn't missed a beat of her own dinner, hands him a paper towel. To his credit, he wipes his daughter down first then scrubs at his own face. "Language," Mama Louise corrects. You'd think she'd give up on that by now. We're all pretty rough around the edges, even though we have some decent manners. The language rule just doesn't seem to be one that stuck ... to any of us. Hell, I've even heard the girls go off worse than any of us boys before, depending on the topic and their level of excitement or fury. Mama Louise's fighting a losing battle on a sinking ship, but she combats every instance in her presence and says what we do when she's not around is something we'll have to make our own peace with. "I think it was warranted, Mama. Do you know how gross those carrots are? Blech,

All of us have different childhoods. The story of childhood is refracted in one’s own estimation of oneself, that’s where we pick up as it were how we feel about ourselves. Because of the language that we’ve learned in childhood, all of us have acquired expectations of how the world is, and how the world will respond to us, based on certain things that happened in the microcosmic world of the family. So we extrapolate what happened in the family, and generalize outwards to the whole world. It’s a natural thing that we do. Because our families of origin are carrying a lot of warps, and a lot of distortions, we’re likely to approach adult life full of expectations, that are not necessarily very fair, either on ourselves or on other people. We may for example think that everybody thinks we’re boring, or everyone’s out to get us, or anyone that we try to love is going to humiliate us, or that in order to win anyone’s favor we’ll always have to agree with them. We carry stories of what we need to do to get loved and also what we can expect from the world, and these stories carry distortions. And normally we play out these distortions in the busy world of relationships, and the office and our friendships, and no one quite notices, and they’re doing their stuff back to us, so everyone’s kind of projecting wildly into one another. Someone’s going “Everyone hates me”, and the other one’s going “I wanna aggress everyone”, and it’s a mess of projections and counter projections, and no one sees what’s going on and there’s no ultimate forgiveness or reconciliation. But what can happen in therapy is you take your issues and when it’s going well you play them out with the therapist, so you become really convinced that the therapist hates you because you are so boring and because therapy is just a room with a therapist, they can actually observe that and go “No, I don’t think that is necessarily right, but I think I am finding you quite interesting.” The therapist can see in a kind of petri dish things that are normally just lost in the complexity of the day-to-day world, and therefore there is a chance to correct what’s going on, so that all those slightly strange ideas, like we have a chance in the sort of clinical and clean confines of a therapy room, to see what we’re doing and get a chance to question whether it still makes sense. It has an origin but that origin may no longer be fair to reality as we have to live it.