Ooze Confidence Quotes

She oozes the kind of over-confidence that only comes to people who wear deep red lipstick and sparkly tissue sarees in bright daylight.

A direct approach takes enormous balls, and you will be oozing with confidence right away because of it. Women will feel this instantly and respond completely differently than if you started talking to them using an excuse, as any coward could do and as many cowards already do.

Lizzie rolled into school in a boy's school trousers and runners, uncaring of what anyone had to say about her appearance. She honestly didn’t seem to care what people thought. She dressed according to her mood and projected vibes the same way. She could show up tomorrow in a skirt and with a full face of makeup. She did what she wanted to do when she wanted to do it, unaware and uncaring of anyone else's opinion. She oozed a lazy sort of confidence with her long, dark blonde, swishing ponytail and makeup-free face, emphasizing those big, blue eyes of hers.

Yes, Melanie had been there that day with a sword in her small hand, ready to do battle for her. And now, as Scarlett looked sadly back, she realized that Melanie had always been there beside her with a sword in her hand, unobtrusive as her own shadow, loving her, fighting for her with blind passionate loyalty, fighting Yankees, fire, hunger, poverty, public opinion and even her beloved blood kin. Scarlett felt her courage and self-confidence ooze from her as she realized that the sword which had flashed between her and the world was sheathed forever.

I was struck dumb by his incredibly beautiful blue eyes, which shone like sapphires in the soft light of the torches. One look was all he needed to win over any woman. Everything about him oozed confidence, greatness, power, and sex appeal.

Next to her was the chief medical examiner sporting trendy black-framed glasses. The Therian oozed elegance and confidence as he held out his hand. He was also pretty hot. “Nice to meet you, Dr. Colbourn.” The way the doctor eyed Dex said he wouldn’t mind giving Dex a personal examination.

He walked as if he were floating; he oozed confidence and zero self-doubt—character traits I believed all men should come equipped with. Women, well, we couldn’t be like that since we were wired to be creatures of self-doubt. Self-doubt that would ultimately consume us and every action we took.

A bout of nerves crept up my spine and I tilted my head at him, hoping I was imagining the heat spreading over my cheeks to spare myself the embarrassment of blushing merely because he was piercing me with those chocolate eyes that I had never noticed were so amazing. “What are you staring at?” “Can I take you to prom?” He asked me. Just like that, no hesitation or insecurity to be found in his tone or facial expression. His confidence caught me completely off guard and I gaped at him in a stunned silence for almost twenty full seconds. His expression never faltered, though. He just watched my mouth work to make some sort of intelligible sound, waiting for my answer as he oozes at least the illusion of complete calm. “Huh?” I blurted in an embarrassingly high-pitched squeak. I sounded like a chipmunk and his smirk made me turn a deep shade of red. “Um… Uh… Prom?” I managed, eloquent as ever. He laughed at me fondly, nodding his head. “Yeah, prom.” Shock was not a deep enough word to describe what I was feeling over this proposal. This was Jim, the kid who swore up and down he would rather gouge out his eyes with a grapefruit spoon than put on dress clothes and he was offering to take me to a place where flannel shirts and ratty jeans were unacceptable and dance me around a room in uncomfortable shoes all night long? This couldn’t be real life. But it was real life. I was sitting in the car with him with my mouth hanging open like a fish waiting for him to laugh and tell me he was kidding, that there was no way he was going to put on a tie for my benefit, and he was sitting right there, a slightly nervous look crossing his features over my dumbstruck expression. Breathe, Lizzie, I scolded myself. Answer him! Say yes! You could have knocked me over with a feather and I was very relieved to be sitting down in a car so I could prevent anything humiliating from happening. Having already proved I could not trust my voice to answer him I jerkily nodded my head as my mouth grew into a Cheshire cat sized smile. I turned my face away and hid behind my hair as if I could hide my excitement from the world. Jim was visibly euphoric and that only made me want to squeal even more. He was excited to take me out. How cool was that?

Demoralizing self-talk leads to a self-destructive mindset, making everything in life more difficult. Not only that, how you feel about yourself oozes out of your pores and makes a bad impression on others.

It was about the attitude. To your patients it was their only comfort in their time of need. The appearance of being taken care of by someone with such capable hands and skills had a calming effect. In the end, all they needed, no matter what was wrong with them, was a confident laying on of hands. Reassurance that there was indeed such a thing as hope. The way you walked and the way you talked meant almost everything. The aura of professionalism would ooze from your pores. The vast knowledge accumulated and then applied was the envy of those who would stand around you, not as certain as you seemed. Those who did not know you would label it as arrogance. It was only your partner who held the truth. That it was confidence in asserting that you are the best at what you do. The best at caring for the sick and injured against the specter of death.

Smith suggests that we are more driven by our loves than our ideas because we are more desiring beings than thinking beings. We have thoughts and ideas, but what’s behind them is our deeply held loves, idols, hopes, and imaginations. To bring it home to our own school communities: if what really drives people is their affections rather than their thoughts, the primary task of the Christian school is to shape our students’ loves and desires. Smith says, “What if education ... is not primarily about the absorption of ideas and information, but about the formation of hearts and desires? What if we began by appreciating how education not only gets into our head but also (and more fundamentally) grabs us by the gut? What if education was primarily concerned with shaping our hopes and passions – our visions of ‘the good life’ – and not merely about the dissemination of data and information as inputs to our thinking? What if the primary work of education was the transforming of our imagination rather than the saturation of our intellect?”29 Bold implication: How do we use student literacy to shape loves and desires? What about science? Chapel? Recess? I get excited to think about our schools grabbing students by the gut! That’s truly distinctive. It’s infectious and contagious. We should hope to find new ways to employ our curriculum to love God, what He loves and His gospel, because it’s life-giving. Yes, we want students to get excited when they learn about Van Gogh’s sunflowers, but we also hope that through their learning, they come to love God and others more. That’s a challenging task; it’s a lot harder than attaching a verse to a lesson. However, we must dare to accept the endeavor because we don’t want to see students merely conform to boundaries set before them. We want to see them transform, and we fully believe that this only happens when students come to love God because they see how much they need Him and how good He is. This is where life-long change happens. This is where a foundation built at our schools can stick with them into college and life. This drives our missional hope and confidence because we believe the gospel restores people; it restores families; it restores culture. Maybe, we should speak of a worldview as engaging the world through an embodiment of beliefs. As Christians, this looks like embodying the core tenants of the faith – embodying need, embodying thanksgiving, embodying hope, embodying rescue and restoration. When we take on these beliefs, our desires change. This is especially true as the Spirit transforms us through our habits being brought into conformity with these beliefs. As a result, much of the conversation about the Christian worldview must consider what it will look like when the gospel starts to seep and ooze out of us.

the other hand, a girl can be a size eighteen and I can find her irresistible if she oozes confidence and loves herself.

Remember your life is precious and deserves to be pristine.  Never tolerate anything or anyone that doesn’t ooze love, joy and confidence. You can be THAT discerning; you are worth THAT much!   Feel YOU and love every inch and pound of you

He walked with more confidence than a tomcat in a dark alley in Brooklyn, charmed everyone he met with only a smile, and oozed sex appeal like syrup dripping off a double stack of pancakes.

He stands at six foot two oozes confidence and money and something else sex Hot, steamy, wild, rough sex. The kind of sex that has you gripping at the sheets as wave after wave of orgasm rolls over you.

Exuding confidence can ooze onto everyone around you. But it’s sticky and goo-like, so remember to periodically wipe yourself down. I use a squeegee, because I don’t like squeezing sponges. The only time I like to squeeze is when hugging a person—or a tree.

Then it occurred to me. Was this real? Maybe I was hallucinating. People have those, right? Like psychological breakdowns? Too many years obsessing over book boyfriends, that now I’m hallucinating the perfect man having the “run in at the coffee shop”. I pinched my wrist. Ouch. Yep, I was here. He was here. He seemed a mix of amused and concerned as he stared at me intensely. I must look like a nut case. Play it cool, Kenna. What the hell is wrong with you? “Ahem. Nice to meet you Mr. Dowe.” Yeah that was cool. Smooth. All that. “It’s very nice to meet you Kenna. Please, call me Jax.” His voiced oozed with alpha-male smooth confidence. I am so fucked.

Next to her was the chief medical examiner sporting trendy black-framed glasses. The Therian oozed elegance and confidence as he held out his hand. He was also pretty hot.

Vic stares back at me, his arms a mosaic of color, his face a study in masculine architecture. Whatever dark god created him, they should be proud. He oozes sexuality and confidence, danger, violence. He's the perfect alpha male, the perfect leader.

Mesmerizing. Briony is blinding me with her raw sexuality. Owning every bit I’ve ever attempted to embody her with as she slides across that stage, gripping that pole while her tight little body drops to a split. Her hips roll, an intoxicating swirl of pure sex, before her cat-like prowl focuses on me. Her body is liquid desire as she moves. Waves of delicious art penetrating the confines of the room, stunning them into her trance. There’s nothing refined about it. Her sexuality is primal and overtly obvious. Nothing subdued by the confines of social norms. Here, in this club, she can be exactly who she needs to be, with no inhibitions. She marches confidently down the stage to the thumping bass of the erotic notes that reverberate within my chest. As she gains ground on me, my gaze quickly falls over to the men. Pools of saliva might as well be beneath their positions. They’re fixated on her. Her sexual aura captivating every set of eyes. All but one. Cal takes a step back, his hand reaching into his pocket when his phone lights up in his dress pants. His slicked back hair falls onto his forehead like angry daggers as the wrinkles there form hard, harsh lines. His eyes narrow in on his screen as a grin grows wild on my face. The crusted blood coated with fresh rolls of oozing red, painting me as the madman I truly am at the delightful realization. It’s out.

There is sometimes a misconception that you have to be self-assured, oozing with confidence, a social butterfly, and comfortable with your own company to long-term solo travel. But that is simply not true

Perhaps the magnetic pull of West Point ultimately wasn’t rational but emotional. The history-laden rhythm of a military parade reverberated like the incense-scented rituals of Catholic mass. Walking around West Point, I was swept up in its call to “Duty, Honor, Country.” Self-sacrifice, integrity, and leadership echoed between the larger-than-life statues of Eisenhower and MacArthur. Cadets discussed courage and duty without a note of irony. They spoke without slouching, oozing confidence, projecting their chins, eyes fixed straight ahead. Around them my own spine stiffened with resolve. Whatever they had, I wanted. West Point offered more than an academic education. It offered an almost religious quest for perfection. I wanted to graduate a better man.

je ne sais quoi (literally “I don't know what”) some people have that animation activated active ingredients in their character that oozes charm and sophistication and this comes naturally as the sun rises, it is within themselves that is alert, dynamic, elated and energized, like a rainbow appearing across the sky from nowhere, that je ne sais quoi that is enthusiastic, excited, happy and passionate, with a quick charm and elegance that controls the moment with joy calmness and beauty, the quality of being audacious without arrogance, being courageous without belittling others, it is a quality that no money can buy, no school can teach and no one can take away from you" Kenan Hudaverdi, 02.08.2018

She scratched and her hair and stretched her limbs with a groan; a woman who oozed power and confidence.

Lew said you reminded him of himself, as a young man.”  Mabel adjusted her adorable glasses, not looking anything like the liar she apparently was.  “It’s why I felt confident about approaching you.  I adored my stepfather, so I trust his judgment on people.

He takes his time, and the movement of his hips and shoulders, along with the way he holds his head slightly upturned, are all evidence of his colossal self-confidence. It oozes out of him and he radiates success, power, and determination. His slender body is shaped perfectly for my modest taste: wide shoulders, narrow hips, strong arms and muscles, his summer clothes doing nothing to hide their soft outline. I am not really an admirer of male bodies, but I am definitely having trouble resisting the urge to undress this one and see the whole picture, so to speak. He is manly, but it is not a manliness that comes from time spent at the gym, but rather from nature – organically. Nobility, gentility, and elegant manners all make up Alex’s very being. You can find them in his every movement, gesture, phrase, word, and look.

If you want a client to buy what you are selling, self-confidence needs to be oozing out of your pores. You must decide that there is no choice but to be the BEST salesperson that has ever existed in the history of the entire universe. Early on in my career, I bought myself a one-way ticket to planet confidence and I’ve never looked back.

Mackay always carried a ball when he came out onto the pitch. And he oozed confidence. As he ran out he’d throw the ball high into the air shouting across to the other team: ‘Have a kick now because you won’t get one when the game starts.’ When it came down he’d kill the ball stone dead. His control was frightening. It was meant to be.

Firth and Stone came to relieve us, something I always looked forward to. I loved Firth. “Karish, my beautiful, my one, my only,” she crowed, as she always did. Karish, who had risen to his feet as the ladies entered, scooped up Firth’s hand. As he always did. “Claire, my lovely,” he said in a voice as smooth as sanded wood. “It is a treasure to see you, as always.” “You liar,” she retorted. “You’re such a tease.” That was a little blunter than usual. Fun to see Karish gape like a fish, though. “I never am,” he protested. “Sure you are, lad. All heat and promises and just when you get a girl all worked up you slither out of it.” Karish blushed. I cackled. Stone smirked. Granted, I wouldn’t want a man as old as Firth drooling all over me, but Karish asked for it. He was something of a slut and wore the reputation almost proudly. From what I understood, Firth was a slut, too, and she’d had many more years to practise it. She knew how to make the elegant, confident, suave Lord Shintaro Karish blush in a way no one else could, and it delighted me every time I saw it. He should have learned to back off by then. On the other hand, he might have forgotten after all that time spent away from High Scape. For certain he beat a hasty retreat out of there, taking me with him. “Rrrrr,” Karish growled, once I closed the door behind us. “You have too much fun with her.” Hey, it wasn’t my fault. He’d started it the year before by oozing all over Firth when they met. “I have nothing to do with it.” “No, you just sit back and laugh.” He sounded almost bitter about it. “Poor boy.” My feigned sympathy couldn’t have sounded more false. “Can dish it out but you can’t take it.” He appeared scandalized. “I never behave like that.” He pointed a thumb back over his shoulder at the Stall. “No, you’re a little more subtle, but give it time.” He huffed. “I will never act that way.” “All right.” We’d wait and see. When his looks began to fade a little. In twenty years or so. “Brat.” He took my hand, and we trudged through the snow back towards the city