A Quote by Jurgen Klopp

I have no problem if someone wants to hug me - if I know him! — © Jurgen Klopp
I have no problem if someone wants to hug me - if I know him!
At the end, what I like is that it's the girl's decision to go back in the room. She needs a hug, she wants a hug, she asks for a hug and he gives it to her. For me, it's like an act of resistance to go there and to transgress the taboo and to do what started the whole thing in the beginning. It was supposedly a hug that started this whole drama between the character of Simon and the teacher.
Showing kindness causes oxytocin release in the recipient that motives him or her to be kind to others. You can start this virtuous cycle in the simplest ways, for example, by giving someone a hug. I send you a hug!
He seems like a man who knows what he wants, and the problem is he wants what I want. If it were anything or anyone else, I could stand back and let him take it." His blue eyes gazed back at me. "But I can't let him have you.
Someone who surprises me, someone who makes me laugh, and someone who has her own life and wants to share that with me. I hate those relationships where someone is just following the other person around, you know?
If you're angry at a loved one, hug that person. And mean it. You may not want to hug - which is all the more reason to do so. It's hard to stay angry when someone shows they love you, and that's precisely what happens when we hug each other.
If someone wants to sticker a record for whatever reason, that's fine. But once it affects someone's opportunity to, you know, get that record, then I have a problem with it.
It's not necessarily the best situation for me to try to hug someone unless I really know them. And I don't really know anybody, so.
Where I live if someone gives you a hug it's from the heart. I've had these blokes in Hollywood hug me trying to make out I'm their friend and as soon as I turn their back they take out a big bunch of knives and stab me in the back. I feel sorry for these people because they are so shallow.
Aaron is a very passionate, maniacal writer so the scripts really come from him, but he is very open to... y'know, we'll plan ideas and we'll certainly tussle about stuff when the script comes out. So, to a certain extent, he's very interested. If there's some problem or something that doesn't ring true, he wants to know why and he wants to correct it or fight for it.
She turned to Skulduggery and held out her arms. “Come here, you.” He tilted his head. “My hugs are for special occasions only.” “Hug me.” “I prefer the old tradition.” “Hug.” “Would a handshake do?” “Hug.” “A pat on the back?” She stepped forward and wrapped her arms round him. “Hug,” she said. He sighed, and his hands settled on her shoulders. The others were warm and their embraces strong – with Skulduggery the hug was cold, and there were areas on his jacket that gave way beneath her fingers, and she could feel the emptiness within. She didn’t mind.
I've noticed people in India have developed a habit of hugging around people. I don't understand it now. I wanted to be hugged when I was young. Now, if someone wants to hug me, I feel only claustrophobic.
There's only one person who hugs the mothers and the widows, the wives and the kids upon the death of their loved one. Others hug but having committed the troops, I've got an additional responsibility to hug and that's me and I know what it's like.
It's not a problem taking out someone who wants your people dead. That's not a problem at all.
Can we move this along?" a bored voice stated. "I have places to be and people to shag." "Ian, I'm not going to hug you," I stated as I approached him. "I know you like this better." With that, I slapped him hard enough to rock his head to the side. When he'd straightened, he flashed me a wicked grin. "Finally, you give me what I want. Knew you loved me, Reaper.
He gives me a kiss that barely touches my lips – it means nothing or everything. After he’s gone, I think, Happy birthday to me. Jack says, ‘That was the guy?’ ‘That was him.’ Jake shakes his head. ‘What?’ ‘He’s not for you,’ he says. I say, ‘How do you know?’ but what I mean is, How do you know? ‘He’s like Ashley Wilkes,’ he says. ‘Any one of these guys is Rhett-ier than he is.’ Again, I ask my benignly inflected, ‘How do you know?’ ‘How do I know?’ he says, tackling me into a bear hug. ‘How do I know? I know, that’s how I know.
I'm sorry," she says. I wheel around. "You know, you're a total know-it-all. And it's incredibly rude sometimes; I mean, you're not perfect either, and you act like it's my fault but it's not my fault for being quiet or your fault for being a know-it-all. It's not your problem or my problem; it's their problem. They're the demented ones, not us, so don't take it out on me, because the only thing that holds things together for me is having someone else on the Not Demented Team.
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