Best 269 quotes in «awesome quotes» category

Do I want to change the world? To a certain extent yeah. It needs to be changed... it needs a kick up the ass.

Do not, for one second, allow people with closed minds and no ambition to make a difference in this life silence you or stop you from going above and beyond.

Don’t be afraid to be magical. You are already wonderful and awesome.

Don't ever let anyone bring you down, define who you are or destroy your AWESOMENESS.

Don't open the door to strangers," said her dad. "Unless they're selling something. Then open the door and see if I'd like it. If I'd like it, buy it for me. But nothing cheap. I have standards. Nothing too expensive, either. My standards aren't that high.

Do things that count, but don't count the things you do.

Do unto others as you'd have KARMA do unto you! Stop thinking in terms of "What's in it for me?" and more in terms of "What's in it for the greater good?"!

Drop the fucking weapon, you fucking motherfucker or I'll fucking scramble your fucking brains. Hands up! Hands where I can fucking see them, you fucking cocksucker. You fucking breathe wrong, you fucking blink wrong, and I will fuck you up. Fucker." Jacobsen snarled it as he shoved Marcell to the ground. "On your fucking face, you fucking shit coward. Stream my lieutenant in the fucking back? Fuck you.

Duane: We are not enemies! We are Aldishmen! Aumut vaosa -- six years I've longed for a Tainish word from a friendly tongue! Quigley: Keep longing.

Emma:“He broke your heart! How can you call it love when he hurt you so badly?” Kellan:“It was love because it was worth it.

Eliot, huh?" she says. The thin fabric of her long T-shirt brushes my arm. "Is everyone in your family named for a famous symbolist poet?" No, I'm named for someone who was supposed to be in the Bible but isn't." No? What happened to him?" I glance over at her, the way the corner of her mouth turns up, half-smirk, half-smile. Her hair moves as she walks. He was called to be a disciple, but he had, you know, stuff to do." Stuff, like...polishing his sandals? Making lunch?" We keep walking, over the bridge across the lake, past the swings and the playground equipment, just walking. Exactly. And what about you, Calliope...is everyone in your family named after a...what is it? A keyboard? An organ?" It's a steam-powered piano. It's also the name of the Greek goddess of poetry. You should read stuff other than chemistry; you'd know these things." Her smirky smile again, her sleeve touching my arm. I feel like my skin has been removed, every nerve exposed. I open my mouth, and this comes out: "I think you are more goddess than piano." Stupid, stupid. But she laughs. "You know, that's the nicest thing anyone's said to me today." You don't see too many calliopes," I tell her. I'm Cal, actually. I mean, that's what I prefer." I meant the steam pianos...you don't see too many." She stops and looks at me, full-on, and right away I put it on the list of the best moments in my life. Until you said that, Eliot, I wasn't fully aware of the demise of the steam piano, so thank you. Really." I smirk at her and we both fight not to smile. "Okay, smart-ass," I say.

Everyone deserv a chance maybe 2 or 3, but always this guy wants something and before he didn't made it don't mean that now again won't reach a conclusion.

Err on the side of awesome.

Everybody is unique and different. Nobody is the same as anyone else. there is no 'normal' - it is a lie taught to us by a system so flawed that it is threatened by the awesome diversity of nature.

Every once in a while, I get the urge. You know what I'm talking about, don't you? The urge for destruction. The urge to hurt, maim, kill. It's quite a thing to experience that urge, to let it wash over you, to give in to it. It's addictive. It's all-consuming. You lose yourself to it. It's quite, quite wonderful. I can feel it, even as I speak, tapping around the edges of my mind, trying to prise me open, slip its fingers in. And it would be so easy to let it happen. But we're all like that, aren't we? We're all barbarians at our core. We're all savage, murderous beasts. I know I am. I'm sure you are. The only difference between us, Mr. Prave, is how loudly we roar. I know I roar very loudly indeed. How about you. Do you think you can match me?

Good Morning Humans...'It's Monday don't forget to be awesome, make it a good one

Everything is about "IF", if there was a way to avoid this I will do it. If I could win without giving a chance to the people to return objects in the board it will be awesome - So you get it!

Four times during the first six days they were assembled and briefed and then sent back. Once, they took off and were flying in formation when the control tower summoned them down. The more it rained, the worse they suffered. The worse they suffered, the more they prayed that it would continue raining. All through the night, men looked at the sky and were saddened by the stars. All through the day, they looked at the bomb line on the big, wobbling easel map of Italy that blew over in the wind and was dragged in under the awning of the intelligence tent every time the rain began. The bomb line was a scarlet band of narrow satin ribbon that delineated the forward most position of the Allied ground forces in every sector of the Italian mainland. For hours they stared relentlessly at the scarlet ribbon on the map and hated it because it would not move up high enough to encompass the city. When night fell, they congregated in the darkness with flashlights, continuing their macabre vigil at the bomb line in brooding entreaty as though hoping to move the ribbon up by the collective weight of their sullen prayers. "I really can't believe it," Clevinger exclaimed to Yossarian in a voice rising and falling in protest and wonder. "It's a complete reversion to primitive superstition. They're confusing cause and effect. It makes as much sense as knocking on wood or crossing your fingers. They really believe that we wouldn't have to fly that mission tomorrow if someone would only tiptoe up to the map in the middle of the night and move the bomb line over Bologna. Can you imagine? You and I must be the only rational ones left." In the middle of the night Yossarian knocked on wood, crossed his fingers, and tiptoed out of his tent to move the bomb line up over Bologna.

Go ahead," Leandro tempted, "I dare you." "I'm a theif, my hands are fast." "I'm a murderer, so are mine.

Good people eat all their veggies and all the fruits, but they still have good grades. I call this, Freakonomics.

GreenHollyWood, I think that you asked me why I don't get out? - I'm kinda in hateful state, I hate to watch the fucking liars to lie in front of my face and backward to put the knife in my back. Why I stay home? - It's awesome place, I feel safe and out of the ignorance there is always somebody to harass for to get attention.

Green Day is like sex. When we good we're really good! When we're bad... we're still pretty damn good!

Have you been lately in Sussex?" said Elinor. "I was at Norland about a month ago." "And how does dear, dear Norland look?" cried Marianne. "Dear, dear Norland," said Elinor, "probably looks much as it always does this time of year. The woods and walks thickly covered with dead leaves." "Oh!" cried Marianne, "with what transporting sensations have I formerly seen them fall! How have I delighted, as I walked, to see them driven in showers about me by the wind! What feelings have they, the season, the air altogether inspired! Now there is no one to regard them. They are seen only as a nuisance, swept hastily off, and driven much as possible from the sight." "It is not everyone," said Elinor, "who has your passion for dead leaves.

Hate destroys EVERYTHING except itself. Everything. Including you.

He just wasn’t into flaunting his awesomeness, but sometimes a person’s awesomeness simply flaunts itself, even when you politely ask it not to.

He continued to move forward, skirting a pocket of radiation that had not died in the four years since last he had come this way. They came upon a place where the sands were fused into a glassy sea, and he slowed as he began its passage, peering ahead after the craters and chasms it contained. Three more rockfalls assailed him before the heavens split themselves open and revealed a bright-blue light, edged with violet. The dark curtains rolled back toward the Poles, and the roaring and the gunfire reports diminished. A lavender glow remained in the north, and a green sun dipped toward the horizon at his back. They had ridden it out, and he killed the infras, pushed back his goggles, and switched on the normal night lamps. The desert would be bad enough, all by itself. Something big and batlike swooped through the tunnel of his lights and was gone. He ignored its passage. Five minutes later it made a second pass, this time much closer, and he fired a magnesium flare. A black shape, perhaps forty feet across, was illuminated, and he gave it two five-second bursts from the fifty-calibers, and it fell to the ground and did not return again. To the squares, this was Damnation Alley. To Hell Tanner, this was still the parking lot.

He felt split in two, one crazy man eating hair and one rational man watching a crazy man eat hair. He chewed and swallowed the last pieces of his father's life. He felt like he was building a museum of pain, a freak show, where he was the only visitor viewing the only mutant screaming the only prayer he knew: Come back, Daddy. Come back, Daddy. Come back, Daddy. Come back, Daddy. Come back, Daddy. Come back, Daddy. Come back, Daddy. Come back Daddy...

He looked at Ghastly. "Thoughts?" "I want to kill Sanguine," was the first thing Ghastly said. "And I want to do it slowly, in front of a lot of people. Using a hammer." Skulduggery nodded. "Very healthy.

Here are few important things to know about chess, if somebody you have beat decline another fight... Let's see what's the feeling to lose, let's feel it, let's be angry, let's the anger full him... (So far this is enjoying to watch...) (Little Off the topic, but so far when I finished one quiz about chess it was said that I am a Mad Scientist)... - When you lose just go and see the enemy learn from him lessons about chess, ask him questions and many other useful stuff... then one day after few weeks or who knows when... suggest another battle You VS Him... To win and to think different you need tactics they are 90% of the game the other 10% are to know how something moves... So as my suggestion solve problems on the phone or on the computer on the tablet or where you want... solve them... they will help you in a battle... You will remember one problem and somehow you will be in it and you will know the answer. When you are tired listen to music and try something else...

He who fights and runs away May live to fight another day; But he who is battle slain Can never rise to fight again

Her head titled to the side and her eyebrows crept up her face. It was her uh-durrr face, she was just too kind to actually say it to me.

He’s a vampire.” I laughed again, feeling there was no end to the outrageous, ridiculous excuses we were coming up with. “Seriously, it makes sense. He’s always tired and pale, and keeps himself away from people so he won’t bite them....Maybe that’s what he’s doing when he disappears. Getting his fix of blood.

He things we think he's a double agent, working for them but secretly working for us. He doesn't know we know he's a triple agent, working for them but secretly working for us but really he's secretly working for them. Dexter, how's your brain?" "Hurting.

Hey a rant. Haven't done one of those in a while. S'good to stretch out the Longevitus Ranticus section of the brain once in a while, otherwise you just become passive and might even- god forbid- lose the ability to stretch it in the first place.

Hey Audrey,I am watching you de-clutter your house,do you need help?

How are we going to get out of here?" "Oh, escape is easy once you have the right plan." "Do we have the right plan?" "Not yet." "Do we have any plan?" "Not yet.

His stories were not always new, but there was in the telling of them a special kind of magic. His voice could roll like thunder or hush down into a zepherlike whisper. He could imitate the voices of a dozen men at once; whistle so like a bird that the birds themselves would come to him to hear what he had to say; and when when he imitated the howl of a wolf, the sound could raise the hair on the backs of his listeners' necks and strike a chill into their hearts like the depths of a Drasnian winter. He could make the sound of rain and of wind and even, most miraculously, the sound of snow falling.

Hmmm... that's interesting." "What?" "There seems to be a gentleman walking towards us with a shotgun.

How ridiculous and unrealistic is the man who is astonished at anything that happens in life.

Humility is never about being small, unseen and unnoticed. Humility is really about expressing all the wonder you are in a way that all people see is the awesomeness and greatness of GOD.

Huevos up. Swing up to the window, swing back to Al B. Hall, who says, "Bless you," and would I get him a bottle of Satan's Red-Hot Revenge for the eggs? Sure thing, Pastor.

I am Mae Waylander from Halts-Walden, daughter of Robert Waylander, a good man who lost his life saving hers.' I point to Ellen. 'And I am the girl who has saved your brother's life on numerous occasions in the Waerg Woods - who fought off a wood nymph, a psychotic pre-adolescent prophet, and a determined flock of killer birds - only to have your father shoot an arrow in my side because I wouldn't let him kill my stag.

I am Detective Inspector Me. This is my partner, Detective Her." The traffic warden frowned. "Her?" "Me," said Stephanie. "Him?" "Not me," said Skulduggery. "Her." "Me," said Stephanie. "You?" said the traffic warden. "Yes," said Stephanie. "I'm sorry, who are you?" Stephanie looked at him. "I'm Her, he's Me. Got it?

I am Mae Waylander from Halts-Walden, daughter of Robert Wallander, a good man who lost his life saving hers.' I point to Ellen. 'And I am the girl who has saved your brother's life on numerous occasions in the Waerg Woods - who fought off a wood nymph, a psychotic pre-adolescent prophet, and a determined flock of killer birds - only to have your father shoot an arrow in my side because I wouldn't let him kill my stag.

I am awesome.

I am so grateful to be here on this awesome planet with it's diverse life - everything we need to not just survive but to thrive. I am excited to continually learn more about it, and always curious to see what is going to come up next.

I am the bone of my sword.

I am what prevents the Accelerator from being a bomb." "Except you didn't," said Gracious. "Because you weren't around." "I got bored." "You're a machine." "Machines can become bored, too." Gracious looked suddenly concerned. "My toaster is bored?" "Perhaps, " said the Engineer. "I do not know many toasters.

I Can Be Alone and it's Okay.

I can't sleep, I don't have what to do... I'm ill.... wow... the best choice will be listening to a podcast what more awesome than that?