A Quote by Richelle Mead

Why are you hanging around, then? Aren't you worried about getting hit?" "Aw, you'd never hurt me. My face is too pretty. — © Richelle Mead
Why are you hanging around, then? Aren't you worried about getting hit?" "Aw, you'd never hurt me. My face is too pretty.
What happened, then? You're stomping through every puddle you can find and look like you're going to punch the first person you see." "Why are you hanging around, then? Aren't you worried about getting hit?" "Aw, you'd never hurt me. My face is too pretty
Aw you'd never hurt me. My face is too pretty. -Adrian Ivashkov
While I was boxing professionally, I never thought about my looks. The furthest thing from my mind was 'messing up my pretty face' when I was on my way to the ring to meet my opponent. Yet, people I'd meet along the way would always ask me if I was worried about my looks. Then they would go on to say that I was 'too pretty to box.'
Growing up is all about getting hurt. And then getting over it. You hurt. You recover. You move on. Odds are pretty good you're just going to get hurt again. But each time, you learn something.
I've never been able to get it straight about what these people who are worried about the trade deficit are worried about. When they say that we're buying too much from overseas, that we're sending too many dollars overseas to get all these goods and services they got, they're saying that the American dollar is too strong and that is hurting our economy. And the result of this will be that the American dollar will get too weak, and that will hurt our economy.
Don't worry about me," I finally said. "Really. I'm more worried about you." And even more worried about where Graves is. "Are you?" A fey smile lit his face, and I caught my breath. It was a shock to see him look so happy. "Well, then.
I took a deep breath. 'For you I've got something better than love.' What's that?' I...trust you.' Why?' You'll never hurt me.' Thank you.' But...' But, what?' I said, 'That means I'll hurt you.' Why?' 'Cause, like I said, you'll never hurt me back.
Growing up is all about getting hurt. And then getting over it. You hurt. You recover. You move on. Odds are pretty good you're just going to get hurt again. But each time, you learn something. Each time you come out of it a little stronger, and at some point you realize there are more flavors of pain than coffee. Pain does two things: it teaches you, tells you that you're alive. Then it passes away and leaves you changed. And everything that will ever happen to you in life is going to involve it in one way or another.
For the first and only time, I was more worried about getting hurt by the crowd than by the guy I was fighting. I got a pretty good blast when introduced. The crowd was hollering and raising hell. I looked around for my bodyguard, a colorful New York character named Wild Bill Lyons, who packed two pearl-handled pistols and used to talk a lot about his days in the West. Wild Bill was under the ring, hiding.
A pretty woman is a Christmas tree,' my mother told me in the airport. This fella is hanging things on my branches as his gaze sweeps from my face all the way down my body to my hips and then back to my face. Ideas fly from his widened eyes and land on me like teeny, decorative burdens. He is giving me shyness, maybe, some book smarts, and a certain yielding sweetness in bed. The oil-slick eyes get me, and I find myself hanging a few ornaments myself, giving him deft hands and a sense of humor.
Work was never about wanting fame or money. I never thought about that. I loved getting the job, going to rehearsal, playing someone else, hanging around with a bunch of actors. I needed that, the way you need water.
I am worried that algorithms are getting too prominent in the world. It started out that computer scientists were worried nobody was listening to us. Now I'm worried that too many people are listening.
My favorite pitch to hit is the hanging curveball. Usually if you just put your swing on it and it's hanging up there, there's a good chance it's going to go pretty far.
It seems everyone's so worried about getting hurt that they forget about letting love happen.
I'm not scared of getting hurt. I'm not scared of, pretty much, anything. If you live your life scared, what's the fun in living it? If you were scared of getting hit by a car, would you still cross the street?
Actually, when I don't have a fight I'm training the hardest because I'm not worried about getting hurt.
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