Best 170 quotes in «submission quotes» category

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    Do you remember what we just did? Please tell me you remember what we just did." She briefly toyed with the idea of lying and saying no, just to see the look on his face, but she'd had enough of having her brain played with – it wouldn't be too sporting to do the same to him. "Yes, I remember, and don't you think for one minute that just because you had me on my back screaming I was 'yours'," she waved four fingers in quotation marks in front of his face, "that it gives you any kind of ownership over me, because it doesn't." He looked annoyed, then relieved, then he laughed. "Yeah, whatever, baby.

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    During their conversations, the subject of Domination and submission had came up a few times, and he always seemed to know more about the subject than an average person. She suspected he had a dominant side she had yet to fully experience, and decided it may be enjoyable for both of them if she let him know she was willing to embrace this side of him.

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    Each thing that obeys law [has] the glory and isolation of the anarchist.

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    Even if those in authority are evil or without faith, nevertheless the authority and its power is good and from God…. Therefore, where there is power and where it flourishes, there it is and there it remains because God has ordained it.

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    For the young, there is nothing unattainable; a good thing desired with the whole force of a passionate will, and yet impossible, is to them not credible. Yet, by death, by illness, by poverty, or by the voice of duty, we must learn, each one of us, that the world was not made for us, and that, however beautiful may be the things we crave, Fate may nevertheless forbid them. It is the part of courage, when misfortune comes, to bear without regretting the ruin of our hopes, to turn away our thoughts from vain regrets. This degree of submission to power is not only just and right: it is the very gate of wisdom.

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    For the vile human pigs in life; the sloppy, disheveled, uncaring dregs, the ungrateful, and especially for the vicious, negative emotional peasants — there will only continue to be the hard and painful lessons you so desperately need. The invisible hand will hold you in your wretched place until your last breath — unless you evolve. If you are cruel and ignorant the invisible fist will pound you into oblivion until you submit, humble yourself and soften your hard heart.

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    God, he was an evil bastard, but boy was he good!

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    Eleanor…” He hesitated, and she felt his other hand come up to tilt her face up to his. “I need you…just for a few minutes…” She read the hunger in his voice, the ache for what he"d lost, the grief… “Take what you need, Curry,” she said quietly, her body yielding to his in an unspoken invitation. “I won"t hurt you…” he whispered unsteadily as he bent to her upturned mouth, feeling it open deliciously as his lips touched it so that the restraint went out of him almost immediately. He lifted her across his knees and kissed her like a drowning man who never expected to feel a woman's softness again. There was desperation in the rough mouth invading hers, urgency. His arms contracted and hurt her, bringing a soft moan from her lips.

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    Feeling grateful to breathe a new day. Gratitude is a way to submit to the flow of life.

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    God is Love but He also is the Lawgiver

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    He called to her primal side; the ancient aspect of her animal self that wanted to submit. It wanted to submit to him; to sacrifice all of who she was at the altar of his maleness and lay herself bare for his taking.

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    God’s got nothing to do with this. Talk to me. I’m your Master.

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    He gets hard seeing his marks on me. I get wet knowing this. I don't try to analyze it. It's just us.

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    He left to do whatever editors do.

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    He moves suddenly so that his hand is cupping my sex, and one of his fingers sinks slowly into me. His other arm holds me firmly in place around my waist. I suppress my moan. "This is mine," he whispers aggressively. "All mine. Do you understand?" He eases his finger in and out as he gazes down at me, gauging my reaction, his eyes burning. "Yes, yours,

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    He moves suddenly so that his hand is cupping my sex, and one of his fingers sinks slowly into me. His other arm holds me firmly in place around my waist. “This is mine,” he whispers aggressively. “All mine. Do you understand?” He eases his finger in and out as he gazes down at me, gauging my reaction, his eyes burning. “Yes, yours…” Abruptly, he moves, doing several things at once: Withdrawing his fingers, leaving me wanting, unzipping his fly, and pushing me down onto the couch so he’s lying on top of me. “Hands on your head,” he commands through gritted teeth as he kneels up, forcing my legs wider… “We don’t have long. This will be quick, and it’s for me, not you. Do you understand? Don’t come, or I will spank you,” he says through clenched teeth.

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    He was desire, and I was his prisoner, chained up by his kisses. Submissive to his touch.

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    He was the journey she wanted to take. The landscape she wanted to walk. There wasn’t a part of him she didn’t want to roam.

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    He explained, however, that the Eucharist is about the unity of the church. If a majority vote determined the matter, then the unity would be betrayed. He noted that some people in the church might not be ready to make this move. He would call a meeting, inviting those who might have reservations to come and express their worries … If they strongly dissented, we would have to wait.

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    Grace is the outer reflection of a woman’s inner soul. It’s the single and unique beauty of her submission. It’s her gift to give to the man she loves.

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    How many spanks have you had, Julia?” Damien asked. “Two, Sir.” “What colour are you on?” “Mortification,” she mumbled.

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    He who in given cases consents to obey his fellows with servility, and who submits his will, and even his thoughts, to their control, how can he pretend that he wishes to be free?

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    I agree. I think I should fuck you into submission.

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    How you respond to authority over you says a lot about what you claim to believe. When your standard of living is Christ-centered, you invariably live to honor others.

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    I do not desire power, but rather to submit to the will of Elamm’.

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    I don’t want your apology. I want your obedience.

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    If deep in our hearts we suspect that God does not love us and cannot manage our affairs as well as we can, we certainly will not submit to His discipline.

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    If we could be humble enough to submit our passions, sentiments and even weaknesses to God Almighty, he would successfully convert them to something positive that would eventually glorify Him.

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    His heart pounded faster. He’d been a patient man. Going above and beyond while she struggled to accept every aspect of her submission. It was a beautiful war where her body was the battlefield that gave way to her mind. A mind she’d set to be with him when she could be anything she wanted to be and yet, she’d chosen to be the woman who knelt at his side. Grady Bergeron, my hero in Watch Me.

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    If you do what we ask you to do, the victories will belong to you, and the losses to me.

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    If you'd called me an ox, I'd have said I was an ox; if you'd called me a horse, I'd have said I was a horse. If the reality is there and you refuse to accept the name men give it, you'll only lay yourself open to double harassment.

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    If you really want to talk to the big boss now, make sure you leave your balls here with me, for he likes no balls on people he is talking to.

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    If he was in danger of anything at all, it was spontaneous submissive combustion due to his master’s teasing.

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    Immodest creature, you do not want a woman who will accept your faults, you want the one who pretends you are faultless – one who will caress the hand that strikes her and kiss the lips that lie to her." (Letter, 17 June 1837)

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    If you submit to your gift, people will seek and invite you, you will get well paid because you have perfected your gift

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    If you submit to your gift, you will become known and influential

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    I’m not going to deny that I want to fuck you. I can’t promise a future or that I’ll be some sniveling boyfriend who pines away after you once I go back to L.A. But I will say that I have plans for you if you say yes. “I can promise you that I’m going to take you to new heights that you’ve never imagined. That I’ll make you feel pleasure so intense that you forget your name. I’ll fuck you so good, for so long that the only thing you’ll crave is my hands on your skin, my cock deep in your pussy. “If you let me, Tori, I’ll open up a whole new world to you. I’ll make you fly.

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    I'm silenced by his right hand cupping my chin and ear, his left hand flattening against my ribs as he gently pushes me back against the wall. I can feel the brick pressing into my naked upper back, cold and rough. His kiss is slow, tender...firm. His lips are warm, tongue smooth and flat, filling my mouth...I can't even feel my own tongue...taking my breath away with his.

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    I like the idea of you on an island..." "Oh...why's that?" She's squinting up at me, her eyes brighter than the sea in the setting sun. "I could keep you all to myself. You'd be trapped, only able to come and go as I please...I'd be your Caesar..." She laughs and reaches her hand out to me, "Don't you already have that power...without need of a sea?

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    I’m sure you can manage from here”, and without a further word, he walked out of her room, then let himself out of her flat.

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    In a patriarchal society, one of the most important functions of the institution of the family is to make feel like a somebody whenever he is in his own yard a man who is a nobody whenever he is in his employer’s yard.

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    I'm a queen with or without a king. Chasing anything is beneath me. Until you're ready to put away childish things and be my man, my king, someone I can trust to shepard my soul to the Almighty I have to decline being your wife. I love you with all my heart and soul, but my salvation, life, health, and legacy has to come first now.

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    I realized that the legal system was corrupt when I went to court and the judge imposed a very short time limit on my evidence submission before removing my legal rights to free speech.

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    I no longer fear the pain...I fear no release from this torture...knowing that I've hurt him and he can't forgive me...that he won't be able to make me his good girl again.

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    The compulsive quest for certainty, as we find with Luther, is not the expression of genuine faith but is rooted in the need to conquer the unbearable doubt. Luther's solution is one which we find present in many individuals today, who do not think in theological terms: namely to find certainty by elimination of the isolated individual self, by becoming an instrument in the hands of an overwhelmingly strong power outside of the individual. For Luther this power was God and in unqualified submission he sought certainty. But although he thus succeeded in silencing his doubts to some extent, they never really disappeared; up to his last day he had attacks of doubt which he had to conquer by renewed efforts toward submission.

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    In the authoritarian philosophy the concept of equality does not exist. The authoritarian character may sometimes use the word equality either conventionally or because it suits his purposes. But it has no real meaning or weight for him, since it concerns something outside the reach of his emotional experience. For him the world is composed of people with power and those without it, of superior ones and inferior ones. On the basis of his sado-masochistic strivings, he experiences only domination or submission, but never solidarity. Differences, whether of sex or race, to him are necessarily signs of superiority or inferiority. A difference which does not have this connotation is unthinkable to him.

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    I thought to myself how we were so wrapped up in this animal act, that he couldn’t care less about his tea shop business, and I couldn’t care less about my job. That’s real sex that is, real passion: where you abandon all your boringly sensible thoughts, and all that tediously responsible side of yourself, as you give yourself to what you know really matters more, deep in the core of you: frantic sex.

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    It is not love to ignore your spouse's sin, or brokenness, or immaturity.

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    It’s submission,” Rediger murmured. “The shocking and simple idea, which had never been so forcefully expressed, that the summit of human happiness resides in the most absolute submission.

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    I wanted to let my conscience go, and see how deep I fall. I wanted to let the devil take over, and see if I survive. I love you, Mriga. And for you, I will die. Tonight.