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“Gloating is a superficial glowing, floating is an idle flowing, and bloatedness is the paralysis of blowing up; because silent movement results in loud victories.”
Criss Jami“He opened the door for me with an impassive expression. Oh, but he couldn’t fool me. I knew very well that he gloated inside. He had the right to. I’d be gloating aloud if I were him. I slid into the plush black leather seat and ran my hands over every surface I could touch after buckling my seatbelt. Awe, like a slow burning fuse, spread all over my body. My fingertips sizzled. It was one thing to hear Gramps talk and completely another to actually sit inside the fantasy.“Should I give you two some time alone?” “What?” His smile gave me unexpected quivers. “Stop molesting my car.”
Kate Evangelista, Til Death“The horrible ugliness of this exposure of a sick and guilty heart to the very eye that would gloat over it!”
Nathaniel Hawthorne, The Scarlet Letter“Ignorance and fanaticism is ever busy and needs feeding. Always it is feeding and gloating for more.”
Clarence Darrow, The Essential Words and Writings of Clarence Darrow“Of course, you won't confirm or deny it, which means I'm probably right, since if I was wrong, you'd be gloating about it.”
Keith R.A. DeCandido, The Zoo Job“It is women who love horror. Gloat over it. Feed on it. Are nourished by it. Shudder and cling and cry out-and come back for more.”
Bela Lugosi“And there you sit, gloating over what you have done, as if you were a martyr or a public benefactor -- as complacent and smug and misunderstood as a princess from the moon forced to herd goats!”
Hope Mirrlees“Less is less. Heartbreak is heartbreak. You think I'm sitting here gloating. Telling myself that my suffering beats yours? Hurt is hurt. You don't measure these things.”
Stephanie Kallos, Broken for You“You´re going to have to learn how to pat yourself on the back eventually. Start now. It´s not gloating.It´s taking pleasure in life´s goodness”
Ellyn Spragins, What I Know Now: Letters to My Younger Self“We were both satellites orbiting Denny’s sun, struggling for gravitational supremacy. Of course, she had the advantage of her tongue and her thumbs, and when I watched her kiss and fondle him sometimes she would glance at me and wink as if to gloat: Look at my thumbs! See what they can do!”
Garth Stein, The Art of Racing in the Rain