Best 553 quotes in «fine quotes» category

Fine," he repeated, and I wondered why it was I kept coming back to this, again and again, a word that you said when someone asked how you were but didn't really care to know the truth.

Live spiritually and you’ll be fine.

Good neighbors always spy on you to make sure you are doing well.

Guys, he’s hurt bad.” The blonde scrambled to him. She tore the wounded boy’s shirt open. A river of blood ran down his chest. “Oh, God, no,” the blonde cried. Lana pushed her aside and laid a hand against the pumping wound. “He’ll live,” Lana said. “I’ll fix him.” “What do you mean, you’ll fix him?” the blonde demanded. “We need stitches, we need a doctor. Look at how he’s bleeding.” Lana said, “What’s your name?” “Astrid, what does it matter? He’s…” She stopped talking then and leaned in close to see. “The bloodflow is slowing.” “Yeah. I noticed that, too,” Lana said dryly. “Relax. He’ll be fine. In fact…” She tilted her head to get a better look at him. “In fact, I’ll bet when he’s not covered in blood, he’s cute. Your boyfriend?” “That’s not what it’s about,” Astrid snapped. Then, in a low voice, like she didn’t want the others to hear, she said, “Kind of.

I don't like the words 'I'm fine'. My mom tells me those two words are the most-frequently-told lie in the English lenguage.

I giorni passano e tutto cambia, avviene sottilmente e impercettibilmente. La vita e i rapporti tra le persone sono come un album musicale: fatto di canzoni belle, altre meno belle, a seconda dei gusti. Poi c'e l'album capolavoro, con una canzone più bella dell'altra, ma anche l'album capolavoro finisce. Tutte le canzoni finiscono, anche quelle belle.

I'm fine," Georgie said. "I can tell. Fine people are always telling everybody how fine they are.

I am not a finished poem, and I am not the song you’ve turned me into. I am a detached human being, making my way in a world that is constantly trying to push me aside, and you who send me letters and emails and beautiful gifts wouldn’t even recognise me if you saw me walking down the street where I live tomorrow for I am not a poem. I am tired and worn out and the eyes you would see would not be painted or inspired but empty and weary from drinking too much at all times and I am not the life of your party who sings and has glorious words to speak for I don’t speak much at all and my voice is raspy and unsteady from unhealthy living and not much sleep and I only use it when I sing and I always sing too much or not at all and never when people are around because they expect poems and symphonies and I am not a poem but an elegy at my best but unedited and uncut and not a lot of people want to work with me because there’s only so much you can do with an audio take, with the plug-ins and EQs and I was born distorted, disordered, and I’m pretty fine with that, but others are not.

It is fine to be involved in social life and bring life to the community

It's like, when someone asks you how you are and even though you want to say that you feel like shit, that you're miserable, that you cry until you gag and spend most of your time imagining ways to kill yourself, instead you just say, 'Fine, thanks.

No one runs from good, if everything is fine and good say reason why to run???

Mai in vita mia Dimenticherò la tua presenza. Tu mi hai presa quando ero spezzata E mi hai riparata Su questa terra troppo piccola Dove potrei mai voltare il mio sguardo? Così immenso, così profondo! Non c'è più tempo. Non c'è più nulla. Distanza. C'è soltanto la realtà. Quello che è stato, è stato per sempre.

No, really. I think you have a very fine figure. Goodness, I meant as a hound . . . You look fine as a hound. Not that you don’t have an excellent figure as a man. Oh Lord. I mean . . .” My cheeks were growing warm from ear to ear. “I mean that I don’t mind at all, Mr. Barker.

Once when I was young-maybe more than once-when I was extremely disrespectful to my mother, my father angrily called me "garbage" in our native Hokkien dialect. It worked really well. I felt terrible and deeply ashamed of what I had done. But it didn't damage my self esteem or anything like that. I knew exactly how highly he thought of me. I didn't actually think I was worthless or feel like a piece of garbage. As an adult, I once did the same thing to Sophie, calling her garbage in English when she acted extremely disrespectful toward me. When I mentioned I had done this at a dinner party, I was immediately ostracized. One guest named Marcy got so upset she broke down in tears and had to leave early. My friend Susan, the host, tried to rehabilitate me with the remaining guests. "Oh dear, it's just a misunderstanding. Amy was speaking metaphorically-right, Amy? you didn't actually call Sophie 'garbage.'" "Um, yes I did. But it's all in the context," I tried to explain. "It's a Chinese immigrant thing.

The devil will fine about your blessing and will make sure that your blessings become your headache

Sotto le nuvole bianche, cade la neve. Non si vedono né le nuvole, né la neve. Né il gelo, né lo splendore candido della terra. Un omino solo scivola sopra i suoi sci e va. La neve cade. Cade fino a che l’omino scompare tornando nella sua opacità. Il mio amico Serge, un amico di tanti e tanti anni, ha comprato un quadro. E’ una tela di circa un metro e sessanta per uno e venti. Raffigura un uomo che attraversa lo spazio e poi scompare.

The devil will not be fine about your blessing and will make sure that your blessings become your headache

She hadn't gotten his expression quite right in her imagination, because the stunned, vacant expression on Shane's face when she started down the stairs was even better than fantasy. His mouth actually dropped open. Next to him, Michael turned around, and although she hadn't counted on it, there was a warm fuzzy to making a hot golden-angel vampire blink and give her a quick, involuntary once-over. Claire stopped on the steps above them and did a tentative hip-shimmy. "Okay?" she asked. Shane's mouth shut with a snap, and Michael actually cleared his throat. "Fine," Michael said. "Fine?" That was Eve, coming down the stairs behind Claire. She moved around the roadblock and punched Michael in the arm. "She looks amazing. I'm not half g*y and I think she's hot." Shane wasn't saying anything. Claire felt warm and a little dizzy, the way he was looking at her. She resisted the urge to check to see if her skirt was straight -- she'd done it a dozen times already --and forced herself to meet his gaze and smile. "You sure this is smart?" Shane asked, which was not what she'd expected, not at all. "You look fantastic." "Thanks -- " He interrupted her. "Fantastic in this town pops you to the top of the take-out menu." She held up her left hand and pointed to her wrist. The gold bracelet was clearly visible. "I'll be okay," she said. "The vamps won't bother me." "Not even talking about the vamps. You're going to be drawing every guy there who's looking to get off.

Sometimes "just fine" can seem so superficial. Have you ever been really struggling and feeling sick or down, and someone asked "how are you?" and you answered "just fine" because you felt that was the only thing the other person wanted to hear?

Sometimes, though, we let ourselves get so used to being 'fine' that we lose track of how 'not fine' we are.

The clearest version of vision, backed by the purest grade of greed is a ripen file of failure.

The trick to forgetting the big picture is to look at everything close-up. The shortcut to closing a door is to bury yourself in the details. This is how we must look to God. As if everything's just fine.

The line you tow is a sign that all will be fine!

The government says law, but they mean levy.

There’s a pulse in my body, vibrating every pressure point. “I like kissing you.” His hand lowers to my waist. “I could kiss you forever.” I lazily glance at him from under my eyelashes. “Just kissing.” Because I think I’ll combust if we do more. The right side of his mouth quirks. “Just kissing. And some touching.” To prove his point Isaiah’s hands caress my back, weave into my hair and slide against the dip of my waist. Yes, definitely some touching. I inhale deeply, reminding myself that breathing is still a requirement. “I agree. Some touching. No new clothes off.” Because I’d probably pass out at the thought of his jeans off. They already hang low on his hips. Too low. Very low. Low enough that I start to imagine what more there is to him. Isaiah wraps his hand around the back of my neck and performs this deep massage that makes my eyes roll into my head in ecstasy. “I’ll put my shirt back on if you want.” “No,” I breathe out. “I’m fine with it off.” More than fine.

To be dedicated and devoted is to find the seek

We started out fine. Then we got de-fined. Now we are getting re-fined.

To be inspired is great, but to inspire is an honor.

Actually, 19 is in charge of our career at that point. FOX publicity is in charge of the publicity that we get. I'm fine with it, it is really organized.

When I was researching the book Toxic Electricity, I would see biological reactions for up to a week afterwards. They are typically strong in the first day or two after the electromagnetic field (EMF) exposures and tail off as the week goes on. I would feel fine during the EMF exposures and start seeing weird health effects usually during sleep that night. Extended time around high voltage power lines & power poles were the worst for provoking reactions, followed by wifi and transmitting utility meters.

Why follow OSHA law when it is cheaper to pay the fine in the unlikely event that you are investigated.

Yesterday it was sun outside. The sky was blue and people were lying under blooming cherry trees in the park. It was Friday, so records were released, that people have been working on for years. Friends around me find success and level up, do fancy photo shoots and get featured on big, white, movie screens. There were parties and lovers, hand in hand, laughing perfectly loud, but I walked numbly through the park, round and round, 40 times for 4 hours just wanting to make it through the day. There's a weight that inhabits my chest some times. Like a lock in my throat, making it hard to breathe. A little less air got through and the sky was so blue I couldn’t look at it because it made me sad, swelling tears in my eyes and they dripped quietly on the floor as I got on with my day. I tried to keep my focus, ticked off the to-do list, did my chores. Packed orders, wrote emails, paid bills and rewrote stories, but the panic kept growing, exploding in my chest. Tears falling on the desk tick tick tick me not making a sound and some days I just don't know what to do. Where to go or who to see and I try to be gentle, soft and kind, but anxiety eats you up and I just want to be fine. This is not beautiful. This is not useful. You can not do anything with it and it tries to control you, throw you off your balance and lovely ways but you can not let it. I cleaned up. Took myself for a walk. Tried to keep my eyes on the sky. Stayed away from the alcohol, stayed away from the destructive tools we learn to use. the smoking and the starving, the running, the madness, thinking it will help but it only feeds the fire and I don't want to hurt myself anymore. I made it through and today I woke up, lighter and proud because I'm still here. There are flowers growing outside my window. The coffee is warm, the air is pure. In a few hours I'll be on a train on my way to sing for people who invited me to come, to sing, for them. My own songs, that I created. Me—little me. From nowhere at all. And I have people around that I like and can laugh with, and it's spring again. It will always be spring again. And there will always be a new day.

You’re lonely,” they say, but it doesn’t scare me anymore for it teaches me, and maybe that’s the biggest win from these years: I don’t need anyone else to distract me from myself anymore, like I always thought I would. I don’t break mirrors anymore, like I always thought I would. I can finally stand myself, and I never thought I would.

Your vision will determine your future, mirror only helps you to see your ugly or beautiful face, but only the vision you have can take you far beyond your expectations and imaginations in life.

Accreditation. The "doctorate of fine art." I've never heard something so stupid in my entire life.

A coxcomb is ugly all over with the effectation of a fine gentleman.

Actually, documentary pictures include every subject in the world - good, bad, indifferent. I have yet to see a fine photograph which is not a good document.

A Fiddle for Angus is a charming tale. This is a very fine book.

A fine image is geometry, modulated by the heart

A fine coat is but a livery when the person who wears it discovers no higher sense than that of a footman.

A fine marksman is with a second rate rifle is far more effective than the reverse.

A fine picture is but the image of nature; a finished ballet is nature herself.

A fine suggestion, a sketch with great feeling, can be as expressive as the most finished product.

A film based on a jolly good John Grisham book is fine, but I like to get a bit under the skin

A fine artist is one who makes familiar things new and new things familiar.

After being impaled by a javelin, while officiating- I'm doing fine now, just resting and hanging around.

After doing One Fine Day and playing a pediatrician on ER, I'll never have kids. I'm going to have a vasectomy.

Always follow your heart. Sometimes it's gonna hurt - but you're going to be fine.

All fine architectural values are human values, else not valuable.

All men do not, in fine, admire or love the same thing.