Best 227 quotes in «name quotes» category

A chair down the row from mine shifted and my mouth watered from the aroma of hot cinnamon rolls. I snuck a peek and noticed red, silky, curly hair. I knew her. Echo Emerson. Not a cinnamon roll in sight, but damn if she didn’t smell like one. We had several of our main courses together and last semester one of our free periods. I didn’t know much about her other than she kept to herself, she was smart, a redhead and she had big tits. She wore large, long-sleeved shirts that hung off her shoulders and tank tops underneath that revealed just enough to get the fantasies flowing. Like always, she stared straight ahead as if I didn’t exist. Hell, I probably didn’t exist in her mind. People like Echo Emerson irritated the crap out of me. “You’ve got a f*cked-up name,” I mumbled. I didn’t know why I wanted to rattle her, I just did. “Shouldn’t you be getting high in the bathroom?” So she did know me. “They installed security cameras. We do it in the parking lot now.” “My bad.” Her foot rocked frantically back and forth. Good, I’d succeeded in getting under that perfect facade. “Echo … echo … echo …” Her foot stopped rocking and red curls bounced furiously as she turned to face me. “How original. I’ve never heard that before.” She swept up her backpack and left the office. Her tight ass swayed side to side as she marched down the hallway.

A child's name is his portal to the world.

Achievements take leaders' name everywhere. Character keeps those names wherever they reach. A leader with no trust soon fades no matter how far he goes.

Achilles weeps. He cradles me, and will not eat, nor speak a word other than my name.

A Complete List of Lily's Nicknames Silly Little Lil Monkey Bunny Bunny Rebbit Mousse Tiny Mouse Goose Silly Goose Mongoose Monster Monster.com Peanut Penuche Pinochle Sweet Pea Walnut Walnut Brian Copper Bottom Crazy Baby Puppy Guppy Old Lady Crank Cranky Cranky Pants Squeaky Squeaky Frome Tiger Dingbat Mush Mushy Face Hipster Slinkster Slinky Bean Dog

Actions determine the good or bad in a name.

ACTS OF LOVE Love is not a word Or a thought. It is the name for An action That breathes from its light. What do you DO In Love's name? And is it only done Outside In the light? Or with an inner Flame Illuminating Love's TRUE Name? I want to know. Are your actions Done by remote Or with SOUL? And when you say You love someone, Does a light go off Inside at all? What have YOU Done In the Name of LOVE? Because, Really, I want to know.

Adamın ateş rengindeki saçları hakiki bir kızıldı. Gözleri koyu renkli ve dalgındı. Adam pek çok şeyi bilmekten gelen ve hemen göze çarpmayan bir güvenle hareket ediyordu. Yoltaşı onundu, tıpkı üçüncü sessizliğin de onun olduğu gibi. Bu da münasipti, zira bu sessizlik en büyüğüydü ve diğer ikisini sarıp sarmalıyordu. Güz sonu kadar derin ve genişti. Üzerinden nehirlerin aktığı kocaman bir kaya kadar ağırdı. Ölmeyi bekleyen bir adamın sabırlı, sapı kesilen bir çiçeğinkine benzer sesiydi.

All of our ancestors give us the precious gift of life. Do we use it wisely? Do we use it well? Do we make a name for ourselves and for our children of which we can be proud?

A name is a powerful thing. It sets one apart and gives significance.

And tonight the stars again ask me your name? And I just smile, playing the guessing game!

Any person who hurts Nami-san's feelings I won't let them live peacefully. -Sanji

A person's name is a fate-conjuring incantation.

A poem does not radiate from the name, but the name emanates from the poem.

As a man's name is not made small by his actions.

As she slowly came to, the princess, fascinated, gazed at the card, and this time her haggard eyes grew wide with astonishment. For upon the card, which until now had appeared immaculately white, letters were gradually becoming visible, and the princess read: "Fan-tô-mas!

At the top of the page I wrote my full name [...] At the sight of it, many thoughts rushed through me, but I could write down only this: "I wish I could love someone so much that I would die from it." And then as I looked at this sentence a great deal of shame came over me and I wept and wept so much that the tears fell on the page and caused all the words to become one great big blur.

Battle of hardships it is! Having fought for life, Having seen death a little closer, Having fought to make a name, Having fought to start over, Having fought all the games, Having fought my best! Yet why are spending the Nights still the hardest?

Benjamin had come here often as a boy to chase his dreams of grand adventure, studying the passing ships so that he could, like Joseph, know the types of vessels by their varied shapes and rigging, be they brigs or sloops or bilanders or snows. He'd watched them for so long that he could name most of the New York ships on sight, amazing Lydia, who only recognized her brother William's four: the Bellewther, the Honest John, the Katharine, and the Fox. Of these, her favorite was the Bellewether, because although the smallest of them all it was the prettiest and swiftest. "She will run before all the others," had been William's explanation of the sloop's name. "Like the sheep we bell to lead the flock." "You've spelled it wrong," their mother had said mildly as she'd read the brave name painted on the hull. "It is spelled 'bellwether,' without the second e." "But 'belle,' is French for 'beautiful,' and she is surely that," had been his answer.

Breath (from the book Blue Bridge) Whispering to myself With every step I take, Trying out names, for I know There is something yet to be called ….. I know it, something up ahead Just around the bend Or over the rise – A bird taking to the sky From the edge of a jagged cliff – A bird floating outwards In silence ……. A silence Waiting for a footstep To crunch on stones, For a voice to fling upward Through sharp sunlight With a name…… calling Before the bird could call Before the bird called. Oh the bird was there alright And sure it took flight When it heard me approach But it broke my heart With a mighty croak! So I’m sitting here playing With a purple flower Slender stem, no leaves Purple fizz – And it’s quiet again. I am still I am nothing And the hill Is a long, long slope Down, down, down to the sea Far below. I could roll I could run I could scream But I am nothing. A cool wind blows And the light is naked and nameless And the rocks are faces of angels And the bird in the sky wheels And cries to forget the earth And its ancient bones – Oh, sensual pain – Wings…. Wings…. Wings, Singing wings. If only I could begin To describe the emptiness Which fills me to the brim With new breath I might almost lose my name And take instead a feather for my soul.

Burn me down to ashes, Lend me to the flames. Rise again I valiantly shall, For LOVE is but my name.

Call me crazy and you would be right.

Can't you hear it?" you said. "When you love someone, you say their name different. Like it's safe inside your mouth.

Cats don’t have names,” it said. “No?” said Coraline. “No,” said the cat. “Now, you people have names. That’s because you don’t know who you are. We know who we are, so we don’t need names.” There was something irritatingly self-centered about the cat, Coraline decided. As if it were, in its opinion, the only thing in any world or place that could possibly be of any importance. Half of her wanted to be very rude to it; the other half of her wanted to be polite and deferential. The polite half won.

Children are no longer being parented, but are raised. Thats why they don't have morals, ethics,humanity and manners, because their parents neglected them. We now live in a society that doesnt care about right or wrong.

Corporations and their government minions are capable of anything...just look at the frauds the recent wars became known as. Hundreds of thousands killed in the name of corporate "liberation".

Daemon clung to Surreal as she flew along the Winds, too weak to argue, too spent to care. His heart, however... His heart held on fiercely to Jaenelle's soft, sighing caress of his name. Everything has a price.

Der Name ist der Schlüssel zur Seele.

Don’t overact the story of your name. Overact the story of your work.

Don't sell your dignity to create your fame then you will have no shame.

Do you prefer Mitch? Or is Mitchell better?'.. .. Mitch, I say. Mitch is what my friends called me. 'Well, Mitch it is then,' Morrie says, as if closing a deal. 'And, Mitch?' Yes? 'I hope one day you will think of me as your friend.

Echo to echo I try to hear. From one echo to another I ransack my scream to find your name.

Ever think of introducing yourself?" Y.T. says. "Nah," he says, "people always forget names. You can just think of me as that one guy, y'know?

Everybody calls me "Marty." I never know what to call myself.

Everyone has honour and a good name. It is the only sacred thing that every person has.

Everything I have become, everything I will ever accomplish cannot compare to my most impressive feat: I have loved you fiercely and assiduously with the very marrow inside my bones. So that when I die, they can crack them to find you there. So that when I die, they can open me up and see your name tattooed on the wall of my heart. So that when I die, my epitaph will neither commemorate who I was nor what I did, but will read: “She loved. And loved. And loved.” And so, I smile now, because that is no small thing.

Every time you mention my name-you're giving me an extra ounce of Fame

Every touch of you on my skin has burnt and etched your name on my soul. Whenever I close my eyes and try to feel myself, all I can hear is constant echoes of your name in my head, and all I can feel is the constant longing for the darkness.

Fame is not the reason why brands are created and erected. Be diligent, focused and chain unceasing prayers to God who will continue giving you cheers.

Featherweight by Suzy Kassem One evening, I sat by the ocean and questioned the moon about my destiny. I revealed to it that I was beginning to feel smaller compared to others, Because the more secrets of the universe I would unlock, The smaller in size I became. I didn't understand why I wasn't feeling larger instead of smaller. I thought that seeking Truth was what was required of us all – To show us the way, not to make us feel lost, Up against the odds, In a devilish game partitioned by An invisible wall. Then the next morning, A bird appeared at my window, just as the sun began Spreading its yolk over the horizon. It remained perched for a long time, Gazing at me intently, to make sure I knew I wasn’t dreaming. Then its words gently echoed throughout my mind, Telling me: 'The world you are in – Is the true hell. The journey to Truth itself Is what quickens the heart to become lighter. The lighter the heart, the purer it is. The purer the heart, the closer to light it becomes. And the heavier the heart, The more chained to this hell It will remain.' And just like that, it flew off towards the sun, Leaving behind a tiny feather. So I picked it up, And fastened it to a toothpick, To dip into ink And write my name.

For the rest of our lives, all we can hear are our names chanted over and over, until we are deaf to everything else.

For the Hebrews, names provided a direct link with the Creator. They understood words as being the creative fire of God, the ‘black fire on white fire’ of His Law. Every utterance and every act of creation through which He revealed Himself was not only word made flesh but fire made flesh. The word for ‘being’, yesh, ‘to exist’ or ‘to have substance’ was flame–breathed. The word for ‘fire’, esh, was embedded in the word for ‘being’ and in the very notion of ‘being human’. The rabbis were said to have asked: Why is the word for ‘woman’, ishah? Because she is fire, esh. Why is the word for ‘man’, ish? Because he too is fire, esh. They noted that when the Hebrew letters for ‘man’ and ‘woman’ came together they produced a new word as part of the union: yah, a reference to Yahweh, the Name of God.

From her thighs, she gives you life And how you treat she who gives you life Shows how much you value the life given to you by the Creator. And from seed to dust There is ONE soul above all others -- That you must always show patience, respect, and trust And this woman is your mother. And when your soul departs your body And your deeds are weighed against the feather There is only one soul who can save yours And this woman is your mother. And when the heart of the universe Asks her hair and mind, Whether you were gentle and kind to her Her heart will be forced to remain silent And her hair will speak freely as a separate entity, Very much like the seaweed in the sea -- It will reveal all that it has heard and seen. This woman whose heart has seen yours, First before anybody else in the world, And whose womb had opened the door For your eyes to experience light and more -- Is your very own MOTHER. So, no matter whether your mother has been cruel, Manipulative, abusive, mentally sick, or simply childish How you treat her is the ultimate test. If she misguides you, forgive her and show her the right way With simple wisdom, gentleness, and kindness. And always remember, That the queen in the Creator's kingdom, Who sits on the throne of all existence, Is exactly the same as in yours. And her name is, THE DIVINE MOTHER.

From the moment Adam named his wife ‘Eve’ her defining moment was eminently predictable. Almost inevitably, it was going to revolve around an incident with a serpent. Her name Hebrew name Hawwah may mean life or living or mother of all living but it is particularly close to the Aramaic word, ‘hiwya’, serpent.

Gain fame, and the paparazzi or media waits and watches for them to slip, just to shame their name.

Fürchte dich vor den Namenlosen! Ohne die Magie des Namens sind sie Opfer ihrer niederen Instinkte. Sie jagen, sie töten, sie sind wollüstig und begehren, was unser ist: einen Namen und einen Platz in der Gesellschaft.

Gankis lifted an arm to point at the distant shale cliffs. "And in the face of it there were thousands of little holes, little what-you-call-'ems..." "Alcoves," Kennit supplied in an almost dreamy voice. "I call them alcoves, Gankis. As would you, if you could speak your own mother tongue.

Give dry bread to a rich kid and he will throw it into the dustbin, give it to the poor kid and he will remember your name for the rest of his days

Give her a solid, practical name,' I told my wife when the child was born. Jane or Constance or something of the sort. Instead she chose Marguerite... French, mind you!... after a cousin on her maternal side. And then it degenerated further when Lillian, who was only four at the time, learned that Marguerite was the French word for a damned insignificant flower. But from then on Lillian called her Daisy, and it stuck..." As Bowman continued to ramble, Matthew thought of how perfect the name was, the small white-petaled flower that appeared so delicate and yet was remarkably hardy. It said something that in a family of overpowering personalities that Daisy had always remained stubbornly true to her own nature.

Gmorning and a kiss on every letter in your blessed name Gnight and a kiss on every letter in your blessed name