Jealousy And Territorial Quotes

Okay, guys. Stop it. Are you going to start peeing on me to mark your territory?

Some would see this as jealousy, I see it as my fucking territory

Years before I met you, a friend introduced me to kink. She showed me shibari models online, and I thought I would very much like to feel the sharp of my teeth against their flesh. I wanted someone both to tie up and to tie me up. Then I met a woman who was a live-in sub for a dom couple. Her name was Lily—she was a switch. Every fall, she went to a leather and kink festival. I don’t know what I’m doing, I said. It’s okay, I’ll show you, she said. We hung the set of rules in her bedroom and recited them into each other’s mouths. It was a beautiful initiation. Every time we went out to the bar, her goal was to make me jealous with other women; my goal was to hide my jealousy, to avoid interfering with her flirtations. If I pulled her away from a conversation, to kiss her, to bite her, to mark my territory, I would be punished later, which I frequently was. I lived for the sting of the flogger, the rip from and return to my body. I felt good as long as I knew what was expected of me. Within the realm of kink, I felt unstoppable and invincible, like a teenager drag racing on an icy road. Outside of it, though, responsibility felt wrong, heavy—something I couldn’t wait to dispose

I understand that comes with the territory, and that celebrities have a contract with the public: they get to be the target of jealousy and criticism, and sometimes admiration, in exchange for money and recognition. But I let that contract run out a while ago. It is not my job to be pretty, or cute, or anything that someone else wants me to be.

The purchase of the Louisiana Territory from France in 1803, and the subsequent admission of a portion of that Territory into the Union as a State, afforded one of the earliest occasions for the manifestation of sectional jealousy, and gave rise to the first threats, or warnings (which proceeded from New England), of a dissolution of the Union. Yet, although negro slavery existed in Louisiana, no pretext was made of that as an objection to the acquisition.

what do you think God might do through a city whose pastors and churches decided they were finally going to set aside their territorialism, their petty jealousies and their denominational prejudices?

The Mormons might not have maintained an order of covert killers, but they did build their own institutions: schools, temples, courts of arbitration, an elaborate private welfare system, a network of cooperatives. Those were the sorts of voluntary organizations that Americans often celebrate, but they appeared to be entwined with civil government in predominantly Mormon areas out west, with the same figures dominating both church and state. Sometimes they were more influential than the formal institutions of government. This stoked still more fears of subversion, and it led to some stunning restrictions on the Saints’ civil liberties. In 1884, the Idaho territory made it illegal for Latter-day Saints to vote, hold office, or serve on a jury. Legislators invoked the standard anti-Mormon conspiracy theories, but lurking behind those exotic charges were more ordinary resentments: opposition to plural marriage, jealousy of the Mormon co-ops’ economic clout,43 and, above all, Republicans’ eagerness to disenfranchise a group that in Idaho voted overwhelmingly for the Democrats.

Fortunately for Alan’s sake, Frank preferred beauty over age so I had no need to defend my territory.

fixation on Ukraine no doubt includes economic jealousy of its position as a lucrative pipeline route to Europe and its access to warm-water ports. But foreign policy analysts argued that Putin wasn’t necessarily seeking to somehow reintegrate his Little Russia into the Kremlin’s empire. Instead, he hoped to create a “frozen conflict”: By taking enough Ukrainian territory to lock it into a permanent war, Russia sought to prevent the country from being welcomed into the European Union or NATO, instead pinning it in place as a strategic buffer between Moscow and the West.

I want to be loosed of relationships that no longer serve me. And with this comes an increasing desire, pounding in my heart like a drumbeat, to only do what I want to do, when I want to do it, and with whom I wish to do it. I am not interested in tearing apart others, commiserating over fear and failure (at least, no more than five minutes max), or revisiting tired territory that should have been abandoned years ago. I am tending to my own stuff, and my wish is that everyone in my life do the same. Insecurities, jealousies, and a thousand and one excuses for why someone cannot make better choices is a stew I will simmer in no more. And if you are deceitful or disloyal, then there will be nothing for us to share. I want to revel in possibilities. I want to laugh and dance and sing and drink great wine and celebrate and love and discuss the Universe and all its magic. My bar has just been raised. It’s a new day.

There is a man with medium-brown skin flogging a plus-sized white woman while another man kneels between her spread thighs, his face buried in her pussy. My skin goes hot and tight at the sight, and then goes even hotter when I recognize her. It’s Tink, my clothing designer and now the wife to Hook, one of the other territory leaders. Now that I recognize her, I realize I recognize him, too. Oh gods. She’s completely helpless, completely on display. Even as part of me cringes at the vulnerability, a small corner of my mind it writhing in jealousy of her experience.