The Cheerleaders Book Quotes

I was flipping channels, watching this cheerleading program on MTV. They took a field hockey girl and “transformed” her into a cheerleader by the end of the show. I was just wondering: what if she liked field hockey better?

Best line in the book: "I played the part well, but I was as fake as a California tan on an Alaskan cheerleader.

Mom’s are our best cheerleaders. No one else ever cares quite the same. Who else is going to be as angry at you when you do something wrong, or be as proud of you when you do something right?

It's not just the cheerleading thing I have a problem with, it's the whole jock enchilada. I'm all for a good game of basketball in teh driveway or a killer bike ride. But when there's tackling and grunting involved-- no thanks.

I pegged him as the kind of jock that has a thing for smart girls. You see these guys, second-stringers on the football team; they stand around the edges of the Jock Huddle listening to raunchy talk about cheerleaders, but they fall for the smart girl with library eyes.

I guess I just like myself the way I am. Sorry if I’m not fancy or fashionable enough for you. I’m not like the cheerleaders or all those models and pop stars whose pictures you have plastered all over your room. But you know what? I’m a nice person, and I don’t judge people on how they look or how much money they have, and I don’t have to give a person a pop quiz to decide if I’ll let them hang out with me or not!

I was a soccer cheerleader. It doesn’t get nerdier than that. I was fired from the soccer cheerleading squad after one year, which I believe to this day is unprecedented. You have to understand, no one went to the soccer games. In fact, I believe part of my duties as a cheerleader was to bake brownies for the team.

Whatever.” I shrugged. “Moving on. Blake, catch.” I jumped into the air, legs straight, toes pointed, and dropped into Blake’s waiting arms. “Nice, babe. We could be cheerleaders together.” A & E Kirk (2014-05-26). Drop Dead Demons: The Divinicus Nex Chronicles: Book 2 (Divinicus Nex Chronicles series) (p. 349). A&E Kirk. Kindle Edition.

The oddest things caused me to miss her. Like training bras. Who was I going to ask about that? And who but my mother could've understood the magnitude of driving me to junior cheerleader tryouts? I can tell you for certain T. Ray didn't grasp it. But you know when I missed her the most? The day I was twelve and woke up with the rose-petal stain on my panties. I was so proud of that flower and didn't have a soul to show it to except Rosaleen.

The Count of Monte Cristo, Edgar Allan Poe, Robinson Crusoe, Ivanhoe, Gogol, The Last of the Mohicans, Dickens, Twain, Austen, Billy Budd…By the time I was twelve, I was picking them out myself, and my brother Suman was sending me the books he had read in college: The Prince, Don Quixote, Candide, Le Morte D’Arthur, Beowulf, Thoreau, Sartre, Camus. Some left more of a mark than others. Brave New World founded my nascent moral philosophy and became the subject of my college admissions essay, in which I argued that happiness was not the point of life. Hamlet bore me a thousand times through the usual adolescent crises. “To His Coy Mistress” and other romantic poems led me and my friends on various joyful misadventures throughout high school—we often sneaked out at night to, for example, sing “American Pie” beneath the window of the captain of the cheerleading team. (Her father was a local minister and so, we reasoned, less likely to shoot.) After I was caught returning at dawn from one such late-night escapade, my worried mother thoroughly interrogated me regarding every drug teenagers take, never suspecting that the most intoxicating thing I’d experienced, by far, was the volume of romantic poetry she’d handed me the previous week. Books became my closest confidants, finely ground lenses providing new views of the world.

All he had ever wanted was to tell—in the best possible words, arranged in the best possible order—the stories inside him. He had been more than willing to do the apprenticeship and the work. He had been humble with his teachers and respectful of his peers. He had acceded to the editorial notes of his agent (when he’d had one) and bowed to the red pencil of his editor (when he’d had one) without complaint. He had supported the other writers he’d known and admired (even the ones he hadn’t particularly admired) by attending their readings and actually purchasing their books (in hardcover! at independent bookstores!) and he had acquitted himself as the best teacher, mentor, cheerleader, and editor that he’d known how to be, despite the (to be frank) utter hopelessness of most of the writing he was given to work with. And where had he arrived, for all of that? He was a deck attendant on the Titanic, moving the chairs around with fifteen ungifted prose writers while somehow persuading them that additional work would help them improve.

There is room for us all— room for all our babies and books and husbands and houses and ministries and master’s degrees. So let’s go out of our way to be cheerleaders for our sisters who are killing it out there and succeeding in crazy ways!

You bring the stars, and I'll give you the moon. Plot holes in novels are like pot holes that damage your car. Don't leave any. I'm just another asshole with an opinion. Just because you hated a book, doesn't mean I didn't love it. I don't have time for fuckery. I'll always support an author, then the reader. I write to please me first. I'm that selfish & obnoxious. Only you can stand by your book. If you believe in it, be its cheerleader. The rest will come with time. Can't think of a word, make one up. Fantasy will always be my home. It's a place to escape the fuckery. When shit hits the fan, read a book. I'm human, and I make mistakes. I may never be one of the great writers, but at least I'm a damn good one. You want brutal honesty, don't ask me for my opinion. I will never be a literary great, but at least I can say that I had fun. What the world needs is a great story. No, it doesn't always have to be perfect. Give me errors, and I'll give you an author who is human. Yes, I'm arrogant enough to make up my own quotes. ;)

Oh Mary Sue, she is the most popular girl in the whole entire school. You know, the captain of the cheerleaders, always looks great, I just can’t stop thinking about her. I don’t know if she would ever go for a guy like me, I mean my mommy still picks out my clothes every now and then, and then I walk downstairs to leave and my papa says, “You will never meet anyone looking like that.” I never knew what he was talking about, mommy always picked out the best. She always argued, “You leave him alone, he looks great. You go get that girl. .” So I decided that day it was my time. So last week I decided to pull up my big boy pants and go get my Mary Sue. I walked right up to her and I told her how I felt, you are my soul mate, my life. She looked at me a little funny, and then her boyfriend said, “What are you talking about you little four eyed freak.” In Which I did not get because I only have the two eyes. I don’t think he is very smart. So I looked him right in his two eyes and said, “I am here to claim my love, my girl.” And that is the last thing I remember. I did not get the girl, but the ambulance ride was very comfortable to the hospital.

One of my perceived weaknesses is that I am not a confrontational person. I am not bellicose and belligerent. I am not quarrelsome and warlike and people who are like this, loud and vulgar and toxic think they are strong and people like me are weak. Go around spewing venom and vitriol. Bullies think calm people are weak. But they don’t know where my strength lies. Everything that I am is born out of this quiet, humble and pacific nature. Bullies only set themselves up as targets. Bullies don’t do self work. Bullies aren’t introspective. Bullies are too busy trying to cower others down and point fingers. Bullies don’t make peace, they don’t want peace, peace confuses them. Bullies can’t walk alone. Bullies thrive in groups. They need cheerleaders. I am almost always alone…

The movies teach us that we won’t be happy until we find our Prince Charming or Princess Whatever. It’s not just the jocks and cheerleaders who get wrapped up in this theme, it’s all of us. All the TV shows and books (especially the young adult ones) feature teenagers who are finding their places in the world through the establishment of relationships and the acquisition of popularity. Whoever lands the cutest girl or guy is always esteemed above the rest, looked up to, and envied. Whoever gets good at sports is more likely to get laid. Whoever’s cool is sleeping around. Whoever’s sleeping around is desirable. To a large degree, our social status is defined by who we are able to seduce...

In this life, if you want to be in a league of your own, learn and plan to be your own cheerleader until you become a champion.

What extended intelligence is NOT is a mindless cheerleader who says, "Oh, that is a good idea, carry on! You can do it!" Often the new data points suggest new avenues of exploration or thought or research. Work with Ei enough, and the logic of it begins to rub off on you.

A group of the popular senior girls who included cheerleaders, volleyball players, and the girl's soccer team came through the door.

Shut up,

dating

Stay back, Charity. I warned you before ... this cable is dangerous. It can whip back and take your legs clean off.” I struggled to keep my tone light. I wasn’t in the mood for her jabbering about which jock was dating which cheerleader, which rich snob got accepted into an Ivy League college, or which momma’s boy received a sweet new BMW from his parents.

They sent out notices to all the tribal leaders, and they told us we could have whatever we wanted: Prairie Niggers, if the New Jersey team did not object, Redskins, Savages, Warriors, Heathens, Braves, Bucks—and of course the cheerleaders would be the Squaws, unless we wanted to modernize the language and just call them the Cunts. But

I am not a cheerleader nor do I celebrate mediocrity.  Neither should you.  You are your own motivator.  Expect more from yourself.  I laid out my plan, what I do to improve.  Now all it takes is you to apply yourself and your blood, sweat, and vomit just like any other athlete who you ever looked up to has.  No one will do it for you and you will not improve just because you think you deserve it.  No worthy accomplishment is easy.  Make a choice and make a stand that there are no more excuses for not getting better.  Train in the heat, cold, rain or whatever the conditions may be.  Take responsibility for your actions.  If you fail, it is your fault.  If you succeed then it is because you did it.  Take pride in that.  Earn it.

As the race gets tougher, when your cheerleaders lose the momentum to bless you with loud cheers, when you feel too weak to continue running towards the finish line due to sweat and tears, you may be tempted to give up, but hang in there. Pray for strength to keep pursuing your purpose with steadfastness. In the end, you will be duly rewarded.

Looking over her shoulder, Sakura followed my gaze and pressed her lips together, spotting some cheerleaders in the back that she must’ve thought I had been staring at. She flared her nostrils and glared down at her book. Possessive. My girl was possessive over me.

As the race gets tougher, when your cheerleaders lose the momentum to bless you with loud cheers, when you feel too weak to continue running towards the finish line due to sweat and tears, you may be tempted to give up, but hang in there. Pray for strength to keep pursuing your purpose with steadfastness. In the end, you will be duly rewarded.

In the mirror, I see the girl I could have been if I tried out for cheerleadering. I see what I would have looked like if I was the sort of girl who could turn a cartwheel and have more friends than favorite books. Every dress is another girl who is not me.

In depression, no amount of cheerleading, self-help books, or inspirational sticky notes on our bathroom mirror can overcome the power of the illness.

A Remarkable Woman She is so exquisite Even without makeup on her face She is very special Even if she lets others seem important She is selfless Even when the selfish surround her She offers a lot of love Even so, she needs it often She has a big heart Even though she appears small She lets others belong But she longs to be appreciated She adds value Despite her worth being undermined She is attentive Nonetheless, no one pays attention to her needs She is patient No matter how long it takes, she waits She is generous While no one could be willing to give She is forgiving Much as the worst was done against her She is trusting Albeit her trust was broken countless times She is wise In spite of being treated otherwise by some She works hard Notwithstanding that she requires rest She is helpful Yet, there is none to lend her a hand She makes life seem easy Whilst going through difficult times herself She stands by others Although there is no one to stand by her She chooses to be peaceful Against being somehow provoked She is calm Undeterred by what is not She is bold In defiance of tough battles ahead She shows bravery Still in the presence of adversity She is fearless Though she may seem helpless She is spirited Contrary to attempts to bring her down She is never destroyed Irrespective of the storms she faces sometimes She keeps moving forward Granting the hindrances along the way She stands in the gap And makes things happen She does not look down on others Regardless of some doing so to her She recognises those who shielded her on rainy days Whenever the sun shines upon her She keeps running her race Because she knows for her, grace is abundant She wears a smile always Since prayer keeps her in the right place She is an inspiration A pioneer of transformation Cheerleader for economic revolution How the world adores such A remarkable woman!

Speak words of life over your own life. Avoid saying negative words on any given day or time. Be your own biggest cheerleader, and do not put yourself down.

Even what passes as heterosexual intimacy is often resented by straight women who find themselves doing the emotional heavy lifting for men who have no close friends and won’t go to therapy. Men are less likely than women to discuss mental health with friends and family, to seek out psychotherapy, or to recognize they are depressed—a pattern so common as to be termed “normative male alexithymia” by psychologists.51 For straight men in relationships, all of these needs get aimed at women partners. In 2016, the writer Erin Rodgers coined the term “emotional gold digger” to describe straight men’s reliance on women partners to “play best friend, lover, career advisor, stylist, social secretary, emotional cheerleader, mom.”52 Elaborating on this dynamic and the emotional burnout it produces in straight women, Melanie Hamlett further explains that the concept of the emotional gold digger “has gained more traction recently as women, feeling increasingly burdened by unpaid emotional labor, have wised up to the toll of toxic masculinity, which keeps men isolated and incapable of leaning on each other. . . . While [women] read countless self-help books, listen to podcasts, seek out career advisors, turn to female friends for advice and support, or spend a small fortune on therapists to deal with old wounds and current problems, the men in their lives simply rely on them.

Real and genuine people are always the same. They don’t change. They aren’t flattering one minute and degrading the next. They never try to bring down a person’s self-worth or self-confidence. They are lifters, cheerleaders, and steady in their expectations and performances. Even if another person fails, they are encouraging and understanding instead of shaming. That consistency doesn’t apply to wolves.

Casey had a great voice, and she was a really good dancer, which helped her so much with cheerleading. But as she was a strong contender for cheer captain, it wouldn’t be fair if she got the lead role in the play as well. Holding back my resentment was hard. Even though I knew how much Casey wanted me to get the role, the feeling lingered, and I dreaded what was in store.

My mother wanted me to take a break and just focus on school for a bit. “Just be an eighth grader,” she said. “Try being a cheerleader.” Be a cheerleader, they said. It will be fun, they said.

Ant.

Maybe this all sounds cheesy to you. Maybe you're feeling secondhand embarrassment that Barack Obama called me to say he saw the spirit of my dead cat soaring over a mountain. Maybe you think I'm a spoiled baby- that there are real problems in the world and instead of dissecting them and advocating on behalf of them, I decided to end my book with a story about how much I love cats. Maybe the fact that my Instagram account consists primarily of pictures of these cats- or the fact that I have an Instagram account at all- is infuriating to you. Maybe you think this proves the point that I'm a "cupcake-eating cheerleader," and not a "serious" professional woman. I think a "serious" woman can also be a crazy cat lady, and I will be rescuing cats until someone has to rescue me.

You are their favorite audience member. You are the balm for every boo-boo, a light when things are darkest, a hero when things are scary, an advocate, a cheerleader, a happy place. You are pure magic.

Even though I think cheerleading is sexist and archaic I really hope you make it,” she said as we hurried over. “Gee, thanks, Abby.

L-O-V-E

... but books made good company. My favorites were the Point Horror series, because I desperately wanted to be a teenager. I understood that that was when you really started living and being an American Teenager appeared to come with a certain glamour. When I was a kid it seemed that everything good happened in America. Like cheerleading and yearbooks and proms, Satanism and the Manson family. I pictured myself hanging out at the mall, at the drive-in, at the ice skating rink with friends with names like Stacy & Chuck and one of them would be murdered.

I don’t think you’re real Redstones. You guys act like wannabe cheerleaders.