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It wasn’t his strength that killed her. It was her politeness that did it.
By Grace on 07.19.2013
He wasn’t very polite. His words were harsh and quick. He was a mess and liked it that way. He would never say please or thank you.
By Kirby on 07.19.2013
With thier polite ways and sickenly sweet words, some people may bend you to make you believe that they love you. But how can someone that loves you be so intent on mkaing your every waking moment a living hell? If your pain makes their eyes light up in joy and they humorlessly laigh as you struggle to remain composed, maybe you should ignore the sickenly sweet words.
By DeionDakota on 07.19.2013
This is one word that many people are not exhibit in today’s society. Just the other day I was in the supermarket and said thank you to the bag boy. He never said a word. I wanted to ask him if he heard me or repeat myself but did not feel comfortable. and maybe I wasn’t going to be polite as I should be.
By Bet on 07.19.2013
He shook the hand that was offered to him. It was strong and firm, but gentle, not harsh. The palms were rough from work in the yard. It was a brief handshake, but it told him a lot about the man who stood at his doorstep covered in sawdust and smelling of fresh pine.
By KT on 07.19.2013
“Pass the salt and the pepper,” she cooed. “It’s only polite.”
We sat at the dinner table hoping that uncle’s political speech would end quickly and without pain, but we knew that his opinions were never so kind.
By Bailey URL on 07.19.2013
I’ve always been polite. Now I have an image of being a good girl…believe me I’m not.
By Blah on 07.19.2013
People can be polite or they can be impolite. I like etiquette and thoughtfulness and politeness is part of both. Being polite is something entrepreneurs do well and customer service people must do or learn to do quickly. It’s not enough to be cordial, to get ahead in life one must be polite and approachable and clean and neat. I do not like those who are rude to others.
By mary on 07.19.2013
It’s good to be polite, to teach your children manners so that they can fake their way through life, hiding all their real frustrations behind a thick wall of niceties, stuffing all their emotions of rage down deep. It’s good that we learn not to throw tantrums.
By rachelzana URL on 07.19.2013
John was a very polite guy. Too polite to the extent that he is never respected by anyone. He never had a girlfriend and his sexual life is miserable or almost non-existent. John is in other words raw material for a psychopath.
By Omar Sami on 07.19.2013
there is such a thing as being too polite and letting people walk all over you.Guard against this.
By Robin on 07.19.2013
I like to act and think at the same time, in a way my parents never did, in a way my father never approved of
He has called me rude more times than the world has called me darling
And I hate the word rude just slightly less than I dislike being called a girl
Although, to be honest, any anger at the latter would be deemed the former,
Because the world is run in a certain way, the rules being those to keep closeness and similarity
And that which is not in the polite scope fully welcomes all judgment.
(this doesn’t make complete sense. it is true)
By Saudade on 07.19.2013
My mother always taught me to be polite, no matter who you addressed. But why was it so important? Did it really matter if I purposely bumped into somebody as I walked down the street on my way to work, only to see his reaction?
By K. Cooley on 07.19.2013
“Arya! You should be more respectful.”
I rolled my eyes. “Respect is like politeness, mother. Rarely earned and often overrated.”
She huffed loudly, looking to my father with demanding eyes and earning a sigh.
“You should listen to your mother, girl.” he said, turning his familiar gaze on me.
“Why? You never do.” I quipped, watching as a small – and clearly proud – smile began tugging at his lips.
By S.C. Lovelace on 07.19.2013
To say that I am polite is to be quite kind. I am more of the “so polite it’s painful” type of person. Being polite once was considered crucial, but now I am beginning to doubt that. Polite will only take you so far, especially my brand.
By Eric on 07.19.2013
Underneath the calm facade of “polite,” I boiled. I wanted to reach across the table and slowly squeeze his windpipe until he gasped for air and turned purple. He would slowly die. I smiled. I smiled and listened to this smug, conceited man as he condescended to me. I of course did not kill him. Later that day as I thought of my lost job and iced my fist I told myself: “It was definitely worth it.”
By Jack on 07.19.2013
Once upon a time, two families lived side by side in the barren mountains. One family was very rich, and had an abundance of food while the other had just barely enough to live by.
One day, the poorer family ran out of apples to eat. And so, they sent their young daughter to go to their neighbor and ask for some. She went over, but alas! They refused and yelled at her to go away. She ran home in tears, and her mother said, “Hush. Don’t worry. Everything will go fine. It is only an apple after all, my dear. Not worth fighting for.”
The next day, they found out that they ran out of butter. Her family, this time, sent her brother — who was slightly older than her — to ask their neighbor for some butter. When he went over however, they refused and shouted at him to leave. He walked home, angered, and told his parents what happened.
Everything went fine for another week. The family managed to get some apples and butter from a farmer who happened to be just passing by. No disputes were needed.
Soon however, on a very dreary rainy day, the river running near their houses flooded, and everything was destroyed in its path. The poorer family was lucky; they managed to get up on higher ground when they saw the river flooding while hunting higher in the mountains. They thanked the deities that they were safe, even though their houses were destroyed.
A few hours later, when the waters had sunk down, they were alerted by cries for help. Rushing to the site where the river had flooded, they saw several bodies near the wreckage of their houses and quickly pulled them out. The neighbors saw their saviors and burst into tears, apologizing over and over again for their rudeness. They promised to be much nicer people from now on.
And to this day, the two families are happily helping each other and making sure that everyone had enough to get by, and the river never flooded again.
By Sophia on 07.19.2013
“I was only trying to be polite!”
Carlos couldn’t understand why his father kept shaking his head. In the corner, Veronica was still wiping her hand across her eyes, and from a distance, they still appeared to be puffy and red. The disoriented boy sat down at the table and picked up his cerveza.
“Sometimes,” his father rumbled from above his head, “it’s not about thinking you’re being courteous. It’s about giving a poor chica some peace and quiet.”
By Belinda Roddie URL on 07.19.2013
I sighed, as my mother gave me a stern look. She didn’t have to say anything for me to know what she was thinking. “Be polite.” I put on my best fake smile and turned to my cousin, who I couldn’t care less about. “So…Marcy, how’s school going?”
By Leah on 07.19.2013
Polite. Be polite. I’m always polite. I don’t get it. It doesn’t matter who it is or where I am or when it is, as long as I am polite, no one cares. If I should dare to speak what’s on my mind, then we have issues, or as I am supposed to say, then we may have a problem of significant proportions.
I don’t know. What do they expect me to do when they’ve trained and raised me to be what I am now. Your majesty, they say. Your highness, if you would. This way, your royalship.
Their groveling disgusts me. Their bribes are sickening. But I do not have the strength to rebel, just yet.
First, I must clean the court. Second, I must fill the court. Third, I must control the court.
When the court is in my hand, I will bring this realm back to the glorious example it once was. I will give every citizen a reason to walk with their heads held high and their hearts unburdened.
I may be the child queen. But someday soon, I will be a woman.
By Sara H. URL on 07.19.2013
My dog is not polite. She butts her nose and head right in when you are trying to have a conversation. She loves to paw at you when she needs something or wants to go out. Our beagle, Charlie, though is very polite. He will go to the door and wait patiently until you come and let him out.
By Anna Pierce on 07.19.2013
Learning to be polite in elementary school. Being taught by grandparents and parents what manners are. Saying please and thank you. The motto, “If you don’t have anything nice to say, don’t say anything at all.”
By dan on 07.19.2013
at the breakfast table this morning there were less than usual, only nine three year olds begging for waffles and milk. i worked as fast as i could, tearing up the waffles while wearing food service gloves and listening to the kids demand and yell and fuss. i gave a plate to emma, who said, ‘thank you miss amy’. ahh, manners.
By amy on 07.19.2013
He was always polite to me. Always so kind. He never treated me wrong or told me lies. And now i think its just a disguise.
By Allissa on 07.19.2013
Politely ask me to leave and blow on the winds to guide my responses to your tongue so that you can suck up, drink up, swallow my yearnings as I carefully navigate this jagged world of mirrors and expectations. Politely find a way through this game of life but in the end we have to be rough, rude, and reckless to come out on top.
By H URL on 07.19.2013
On the outside, she had always been polite, decent, modest, well-dressed, so damn nice. And it was eating her up from the inside out.
She wanted to listen to horrible music, pierce somethign other than her ears and date the perpetually stoned boy that was in her music appreciation class. She was tired of ballet, she was tired of school, and she was tired of everyone.
God, she needed a cigarette.
By Leslie on 07.19.2013
Being polite isn’t a simple task. People assume that you need to be polite when you first meet, when you’re at church, or even in traffic. Yea right. If that’s the case, we should be a fucking utopian society. The truth is being polite is NOT easy. It takes a great deal of patience, tolerance, and self control. Good luck finding that in your everyday joe.
By Gabriel Sosa on 07.19.2013
i like polite people. i think about girls in hats, sitting nicely, drinking tea. while this image may be a cliche, and maybe even pathetic, it is nice to know that some people actually learn to be polite at a young age. it’s a bummer that it doesn’t stick with most though… many a time, these little girls are the ones who end up being terrible to the others around them. i guess that high tea really is a facade that shows the true nature of people. to try to be polite is actually the rudest thing of all. in order to be genuinely polite, on must be genuinely good, and this is hard to come by.
By frances naude on 07.19.2013
I’m sorry.I was just being polite.
By A False Terl on 07.19.2013
Excuse me.Sorry.Sorry.Coming through.Sorry.Excuse me,please.Sorry.
By Evan on 07.19.2013
I’ve always been the “polite” one. Let everyone speak their mind before I did. Take little for me, because it would be selfish and rude not to. Never tell anyone anything that would upset them or offend them in any way. That’s the way I’ve always lived. Except now, because I’m tired of everyone’s bullshit. I don’t care if I’m no longer considered “polite” by people. I am now forever going to be my own person and speak my own words to my own liking, and if you have a problem with it, fuck off.
By Amanda on 07.19.2013
listen to me, please
excuse me, mom?
um, i know that times are hard
and I know that your feelings get hurt easily
but i feel this knot in my chest every time you remind me
so if you could tone that down for a while
just so i don’t feel physically sick anymore
that would be amazing
By alessandra on 07.19.2013
I’ve always been polite. to the extreme. to the point of frustration. so much so that i have forgotten what it is like to say what i truly feel.
By PaperBag on 07.19.2013
I like being polite. Cause I hate rude people.
By Jason on 07.19.2013
Politeness is not something you see very often these days and when you do it is quite surprising. Politeness is an art. A lost art. Except in Europe. They got this down.
By Caitlyn on 07.19.2013
Hannibal never ate the polite ones, only the rude. He himself always tried to behave his very best, but he could admit that it was not always possible to display the most possible amount of kindness to everyone.
By Liz on 07.19.2013
Jessica was a soft-spoken, doe-eyed kinda girl with a big heart and small feet. She lingered around the periphery of most peoples’ vision, dangling on the edge and smiling when necessary. Sometimes she’d bake chocolate-chip-banana muffins and bring them to her colleagues at the bank, where she worked as a teller. She said “please” and “thank-you” and “sorry” when necessary, as most young Canadians women do. When she returned home from work in the evening, she kicked off her shoes and boiled the kettle. Steeped teabags and petted her cat, Charlie.
By gingersnaps on 07.19.2013
The man was so polite that Jane was lost in words.
Never had such a gentleman appeared in the humble town of Noll.
By OneJen on 07.19.2013
Nodding his head, she graciously handed him his food. Her touch was light, and her long fingers wrapped around the tea cup like a vine of flowers. Her hair was tied up on her head, and a red shirt–his favorite color–was underneath her flowery apron. Even with mismatched shoes and dirty black pants, she still seemed to glow with an ethereal light and an unchanging happiness.
“Thank you,” he whispered, hoping his eyes and look could communicate everything he could never say. He glanced down at his food before turning to look back at her. “What–what is your name?”
“Lisa.” She smiled at him.
His heart did a flip. “Thank you, Lisa.”
By redpinkandwhite on 07.19.2013
a division of Identity Crisis, Inc.