Best 34 quotes in «chores quotes» category

A secret, like a chore, always seems to lead to another, one even more troublesome than the first.

Without knowing it, the adults in our lives practiced a most productive kind of behavior modification. After our chores and household duties were done we were give "permission" to read. In other words, our elders positioned reading as a privilege - a much sought-after prize, granted only to those goodhardworkers who earned it. How clever of them.

Food imaginatively and lovingly prepared, and eaten in good company, warms the being with something more than the mere intake of calories. I cannot conceive of cooking for friends or family, under reasonable conditions, as being a chore.

Even the smallest daily chore can be humanized with the harmony of culture.

I don't enjoy killing, but when done righteously, it's just a chore, like any other.

For me, the big chore is always the same: how to begin a sentence, how to continue it, how to complete it.

Helping others isn't a chore; it is one of the greatest gifts there is.

For me, living and making music, they're one thing. It's not like a job that I go to a studio to do, or a chore that I have to get myself in the mood to do, or something. It's the thing that I need to do every day.

I do have a chore schedule - in my mind. I dont tell anyone I have it, but its in my mind.

I happen to like household chores and resent them only when performing them makes it difficult for me to fulfill my professional duties.

I held a nail in place and slammed it with the hammer. Best. Chore. Ever.

Occasionally I go shopping for clothes, but I find the whole thing a real chore.

I would rather lie on a sofa than sweep beneath it.

It is in recognizing the actual presence of God that we find prayer no longer a chore, but a supreme delight.

It's a chore for a fellow to fear for his life more than once in an evening.

Practice, which some regard as a chore, should be approached as just about the most pleasant recreation ever devised.

They shared the chores of living as some couples do-she did most of the work and he appreciated it.

Reading is not work, not a chore, not a drudgery; reading is the most joyful thing, yet, in the world.

The taming and domestication of religion is one of the unceasing chores of civilization.

There is, in the Army, a little known but very important activity appropriately called Fatigue. Fatigue, in the Army, is the very necessary cleaning and repairing of the aftermath of living. Any man who has ever owned a gun has known Fatigue, when, after fifteen minutes in the woods and perhaps three shots at an elusive squirrel, he has gone home to spend three-quarters of an hour cleaning up his piece so that it will be ready next time he goes to the woods. Any woman who has ever cooked a luscious meal and ladled it out in plates upon the table has known Fatigue, when, after the glorious meal is eaten, she repairs to the kitchen to wash the congealed gravy from the plates and the slick grease from the cooking pots so they will be ready to be used this evening, dirtied, and so washed again. It is the knowledge of the unendingness and of the repetitious uselessness, the do it up so it can be done again, that makes Fatigue fatigue.

Every child must have chores to do. It gives them dignity in work and the joy of labor.

He was here! And he was performing live and in-person girl porn—household tasks!

She liked to be in the thick of things and did not delegate easily, except where domestic chores were concerned.

When I have time, I'll be a good girl and do my chores.

Few tasks are more like the torture of Sisyphus than housework, with its endless repetition: the clean becomes soiled, the soiled is made clean, over and over, day after day. The housewife wears herself out marking time: she makes nothing, simply perpetuates the present … Eating, sleeping, cleaning – the years no longer rise up towards heaven, they lie spread out ahead, gray and identical. The battle against dust and dirt is never won.

If God had a wife, He would be in trouble too if He dodged His chores.

I remember our childhood days when life was easy and math problems hard. Mom would help us with our homework and dad was not at home but at work. After our chores, we’d go to the old fort museum with clips in our hair and pure joy in our hearts. You, sister, wore the bangles that you, brother, got as a prize from the Dentist. “Why the bangles?” the Dentist asked, surprised, for boys picked the stickers of cars instead. “They’re for my sisters,” you said. Mom would treat us to a bottle of Coke, a few sips each. Then, we’d buy the sweet smelling bread from the same white van and hand-in-hand, we’d walk to our small flat above the restaurant. I remember our childhood days. Do you remember them too?

I was not merely cleaning an oven; I was improving the world.

Man, who did you piss off today? Laundry and kitchen? Just take the damn drugs next time, Blanky, you might live longer.

Multitasking is overrated - I'd rather do one thing well than many things badly. Quality supersedes quantity every time.

Nothing is more exhausting than the task that’s never started.

She'd been sent up to the field to fetch the mare, although perhaps "sent" was too strong a word. Her father had done nothing more than ask her if she'd go, because the mare would not come willingly to any of the men but led them all a tiring chase, whereas for Lydia she came directly, took the halter quietly, and let herself be led downhill as meekly as a lamb. To Lydia, it was a welcome chore. These first days of October had been busy ones that kept her in the garden cutting squash to dry and harvesting the beans for seed and digging her potatoes. There'd been pies to bake and pickles to be scalded- she had left the last to Violet, who made pickles best of any she had tasted- but the garden on its own had wanted more hours in the day than she could give it, and the digging left her shoulders sore, so it had been a great relief to start this day by simply walking up along the orchard wall into the upper field to find the mare. Her father had a mind to go to Hempstead to Aunt Hannah's, and the mare would take him there and back more swiftly than the wagon team. She was a gray, a four-year-old with something of a filly's mischief glinting in her eyes as she stopped grazing, raising her fine head, and watched Lydia approach. "There'd be no point," was Lydia's advice. "I've neither will nor energy to chase you so you'd have to play the game alone, which would be little fun." The mare flicked one ear in acknowledgement of this and gave in gracefully, and although she did not step forward, she at least stood still and did not run. Lydia wasn't entirely sure herself why the mare favored her, but they had shared this rapport from the very first day that her father had brought the mare home as a yearling. Just as a horse could sense a nervous rider or a cruel one, it appeared that the mare could sense Lydia already carried a full share of troubles and did not need more. Whatever the reason, the mare bent her head to the halter and made no complaint and submitted herself to be led.

The survey of the time spent in the home by most housewives established that, on average, they worked 75 hours a week, with overtime on Saturdays and Sundays. This did not take into account that a number of women were also doing part or full-time work outside the home.

...TV was entertainment of the last resort. There was nothing on during the day in the summer other than game shows and soap operas. Besides, a TV-watching child was considered available for chores: take out the trash, clean your room, pick up that mess, fold those towels, mow the lawn... the list was endless. We all became adept at chore-avoidance. Staying out of sight was a reliable strategy. Drawing or painting was another: to my mother, making art trumped making beds. A third choir-avoidance technique was to read. A kid with his or her nose in a book is a kid who is not fighting, yelling, throwing, breaking things, bleeding, whining, or otherwise creating a Mom-size headache. Reading a book was almost like being invisible - a good thing for all concerned.