Best 20 quotes in «old lady quotes» category

History, that excitable and unreliable old lady.

When I was suddenly thrust into what everyone calls menopause (Orchids) earlier than my body planned, I decided someone needed to take charge on so many levels. It was time to not only change the vernacular, but to speak up and say "Hey! This isn't an old lady's disease! We aren't old! We are strong and dammit, we are beautiful and sexy too!

I'd like to punch out a really old lady. There'd be no repercussions.

At the small table, sitting very upright, was one of the ugliest old ladies he had ever seen. It was an ugliness of distinction - it fascinated rather than repelled.

I am for an art that tells you the time of day, or where such and such a street is. I am for an art that helps old ladies across the street.

I won't quit to become someone's old lady.

I am not Christ or a philanthropist, old lady, I am all the contrary of a Christ.

I'm gonna do the whole bedroom in camel color - it's an old lady color.

I don't want to die an old lady.

The price of meat has just gone up and your old lady has just gone down.

It felt like strappy sandals were looking really old lady-ish; really dated and not cool.

There was an old lady who lived in a shoe. She had so many kids... her uterus fell out!

You gotta keep changing. Shirts, old ladies, whatever.

There's no rage like old lady rage, just as there's no tenderness like old lady tenderness.

Communication by touch is not for every old dutch.

The grand old lady of bluegrass? Well, wouldn't that be a wonderful title to have? I hope I do enough to earn it some day

747s always remind me of a fat, ugly old lady in the neighborhood where I used to live. Huge sagging breasts, swollen legs, dried up neckline. The airport, a likely gathering place for the old ladies. Dozens of them, coming and going, one after the other.

I would like to be like Rome when I am an old lady.

The waitress scuttles away, and I make a shooing motion at the old couple who’re still glaring. “Don’t you have something to better to work on?” I hiss. “Like golfing or eating prunes or dying?” The old lady looks shocked. “Okay, sorry, not dying. But seriously, prunes are good for you.

She (my mother) could still recite them (the poems) in full when she was lying helpless and nearly blind, in her bed, an old lady. Reciting, her voice took on resonance and firmness, it rang with the old fervor, with ferocity even. She was teaching me one more, almost her last, lesson: emotions do not grow old. I knew that I would feel as she did, and I do.