Treat With Kid Gloves Quotes

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We can’t treat the Bible with kid gloves. We really need to wrestle with the issues, because our faith depends on it.
Lee Strobel (The Case for the Real Jesus: A Journalist Investigates Current Attacks on the Identity of Christ)
Because everyone is still treating me with kid gloves, Pigpen's driving me in his pickup truck, blasting music that's more screaming than music. I prefer electric guitar over voices, but it's not my fucking truck.
Katie McGarry (Walk the Edge (Thunder Road, #2))
It takes everything in me not to snap at him that his dick was not good enough for him to treat me with kid gloves. I've had good dick, fantastic dick, and life changing dick. Arnold's wasn't bad by any means, but it definitely wasn't life changing. It wasn't even fantastic. It was just good; and
Natasha Bishop (Only for the Week)
The media suffer from an internalised as well as institutionalised Islamophilia. They could never broadcast, or print, during Ramadan, Eid or any other Muslim festival a programme or article explaining from the Christian – or any other – point of view why Islam’s founding story simply doesn’t stack up. It wouldn’t be hard to write or make it. Let any scholar loose on the materials and they could do it. Biblical or Torah scholars using the tools of criticism could use them on the Koran and have a wonderful and fascinating time of it. But would the nation’s broadcaster run it? Or the ‘paper of record’ print it? If during any day of the year – let alone a major Muslim festival – the main newspapers in Britain or America chose to commission a Christian scholar to review a book casting doubt on the likelihood of Mohammed’s existence, say, or his claims to be a prophet, I think everybody knows what would happen. The papers and broadcasters know what would happen too. Which is why they don’t do it. And which is why when it comes to Islam we begin by avoiding it, go on to treat it with kid gloves,
Douglas Murray (Islamophilia)
In the section with edible flowers I stopped short, a bright yellow-and-purple pansy in my hands, hearing my mother's voice from long ago. Pansies are the showgirls of the flower world, but they taste a little grassy, she'd confided to me once as we pulled the weeds in her herb and flower garden. I put a dozen pansies in my cart and moved on to carnations. Carnations are the candy of the flower world, but only the petals. The white base is bitter, she'd instructed, handing me one to try. In my young mind carnations had been in the same category as jelly beans and gumdrops. Treats to enjoy. "Impatiens." I browsed the aisles of Swansons, reading signs aloud. "Marigolds." Marigolds taste a little like citrus, and you can substitute them for saffron. My mother's face swam before my eyes, imparting her kitchen wisdom to little Lolly. It's a poor woman's saffron. Also insects hate them; they're a natural bug deterrent. I placed a dozen yellow-and-orange marigolds into my cart along with a couple different varieties of lavender and some particularly gorgeous begonias I couldn't resist. I had a sudden flash of memory: my mother's hand in her floral gardening glove plucking a tuberous begonia blossom and popping it in her mouth before offering me one. I was four or five years old. It tasted crunchy and sour, a little like a lemon Sour Patch Kid. I liked the flavor and sneaked a begonia flower every time I was in the garden for the rest of the summer.
Rachel Linden (The Magic of Lemon Drop Pie)
a sort of child, someone to be treated with kid gloves and presented with reality by degrees.
Zadie Smith (Swing Time)
Mitch,” she said, in a soft, hesitant tone. He lifted his head and looked down into her face. Three days ago he hadn’t even known her, and somehow that seemed impossible. Before Maddie was a lifetime ago. She blinked up at him, expression unsure. He sighed. Too soon. He let go of her wrists and brushed her hair from her cheek. “To sleep. I don’t want to do anything you’re not ready for.” It might kill him, but he could do it. “No,” she said, shaking her head. She turned her head and looked at the river. “That’s not it. I need something from you.” “What? Whatever it is, you’ve got it.” Her teeth sunk into her bottom lip. “I want you to make me a promise.” “Whatever you need.” As long as he could feel her against him. She swallowed. “Promise you won’t take it easy on me.” His heart almost stalled out. “What exactly do you mean?” “I don’t want sweet and gentle. I don’t want safe. I don’t want you to treat me with kid gloves because I don’t have a lot of experience.” He ground his back teeth, fighting raw, depraved images in his head. He swallowed hard and asked, “Do you know what you’re asking?” She tilted her face to look at him, and even in the moonlight he could see the stain of pink on her cheeks. The blush did nothing to detract from the determination in her eyes. “I want it all.” She smiled, and if he’d been standing it would have knocked him to his knees. “I’m committing a mortal sin for you. So you’d better be worth it.
Jennifer Dawson (Take a Chance on Me (Something New, #1))
It dawned on me that he saw me as a sort of child, someone to be treated with kid gloves and presented with reality by degrees.
Zadie Smith (Swing Time)
Certainly, the PAP applies far more stringent background checks on its candidates than the opposition does on its own. However, in some respects, a new and inexperienced PAP candidate has an easier ride. He is cushioned by the ruling party's institutional support, and faces a press predisposed to treating him with kid gloves. While an opposition member's every move is dissected and held against him in the interest of keeping politics honest, the PAP candidate is spared any probing by the media, on the grounds that a loss of privacy and face would deter good men from stepping forward to serve.
Cherian George (Singapore: The Air-conditioned Nation. Essays on the Politics of Comfort and Control, 1990-2000)
I’m an adult—sometimes a shitty one when it comes to taking care of myself, but I’m not an idiot. You don’t need to treat me with kid gloves, and it pisses me off even more to know Jonah was in on this, too, and didn’t say anything. I need to think, and I need to calm down, and I can’t do either while sitting next to you.
Vinni George (Everett and the Wolf (Land and Sea, #2))
My family doesn’t understand me. They think I have these headaches because my business is failing. They think I roam the house at night, moving from bed to couch to chair to floor, because I’m worrying about my business. They think I’m worrying about new possibilities and plans. So they soften me and treat me gingerly. Husband and father must have a quiet house, so the house is quiet. He must not be upset, so he is avoided. He must not be expected to be friendly and sociable because he is passive and shy. He must be indirectly talked into doing what they want, in the right way, at the right moment. It takes careful planning. He must have sympathy, even if it’s false, to be able to face the tough, competitive world outside. They cannot and will not recognize that this man they handle with kid gloves, whom they fear upsetting, whom they decide has to be coddled and manipulated into buying new clothes, a new car, a new home, all the other possessions a family feels it must have, this man does not really exist and never did.
Clark E. Moustakas (Loneliness)