Vladimir Nabokov Quotes

I'm shy, but I'm not clinically shy. I don't have social anxiety disorder or anything like that. I more have a gentle shyness. Like, I have a little trouble mingling at parties.

Young adults living with a stutter is hard work. How do they handle job interviews? What do they do when the phone rings? How do they 'chat someone up'? All these things the average person takes for granted prove to be a stammerer's biggest challenge.

I think the core criterion is the social awkwardness, but the sensory issues are a serious problem in many, many cases of autism, and they make it impossible to operate in the environment where you're supposed to be social.

I do a lot of public speaking and presentations and I'll always start with a self-deprecating joke to make everybody feel comfortable with my size because there can be hang-ups and anxieties.

It's bloody annoying being shy. I'll spend a whole evening at a party asking everyone else about themselves. I'm not being self-deprecating; it's because I'm too shy to talk about myself. So people come away from the evening actually having learnt nothing about me.

I was at a party in London when I met Bond producer Barbara Broccoli. She introduced herself, and I didn't believe her name. So I just replied: 'Yeah, and I'm Cathy Carrot.' I think maybe I got off on the wrong foot!

I'm one of those people that if I go to a party, I can't remember my mother's name because I'm so nervous in a social situation.

I'm shy at public speaking, which is tough.

I'm a basket case. Yeah, you know, I put my foot in my mouth more than I speak properly.

Cocktail parties for me can be nerve-racking. The brevity of conversations, the number of them - it's not my sweet spot.

I am very bad at schmoozing, and I'm not overtly charming in social situations.

I can win an argument on any topic, against any opponent. People know this, and steer clear of me at parties. Often, as a sign of their great respect, they don't even invite me.

I am very shy. If I am flying British Airways and the airhostess asks me two questions, and I don't understand her accent - I will go hungry for the entire flight.

I'm not good at talking to strangers, whether they're sick children or they're - I'm just not good. I'm shy with it.

I certainly have not the talent which some people possess," said Darcy, "of conversing easily with those I have never seen before. I cannot catch their tone of conversation, or appear interested in their concerns, as I often see done.

I've always been a social network retard, even before there was a social network. People would say, "You want to go to this party and do some networking?"

It's true, I did say I wanted girlfriends," I capitulated hesitantly, "but couldn't we start with something smaller and less terrifying? Like maybe spend a weekend at a crack house? I heard those people are very nonjudgmental, and if you accidentally say something offensive you can just blame it on their hallucinations.

It's so scary. And then I end up getting so nervous that I get like [I am] now. I get really hyper. [Squeals.] So then I go in interviews and I'm like, 'I'm like a chihuahua! I'm shaking and peeing!' And then afterwards, I'm like, 'I just talked about peeing on the red carpet.'

I can't give parties. It's so hard. When I want to call somebody up for dinner they think I'm using them or something. I just can't stand it.

I have to mime at parties when everyone sings Happy Birthday... Mime or mumble and rumble and growl and grunt so deep that only moles, manta rays and mushrooms can hear me.

When you go to a bar that has a black light, everybody looks cool. Except for me, because I was under the impression that the mustard stain came out.

I'm totally normal in every respect, but I have this one quirk - I can't give out a number without laughing. It's a problem when I'm giving my credit card number over the phone because they always think: 'He must have just stolen it.'

I find it very hard to believe that people would prefer an awkward picture with me than a normal conversation.

[My mother] closed the school the next day [after a visit from Castro's soldiers], because she knew that the purpose of education was the broadening and opening of children's minds. And she couldn't be a party to the systematic closing of minds, borders, freedoms and ideals.

But really, what else are you going to talk about in line at the liquor store? Childhood trauma seems like the natural choice, since it’s the reason why most of us are in line there to begin with.