Best 35 quotes in «shower quotes» category

At least he could turn on the shower, stand beneath the hot needles, face thrust near the spray head, feeling the headache move back a little.

Blossoms shower, and then they go on showering—they never stop. The blossoms that showered for Buddha are still showering. The blossoms that showered for Subhuti are still showering.

Every one who has taken a shower has had an idea. It's the person who gets out of the shower, dries off and does something about it that makes a difference.

Break out to go out ___________________ The birds dare to break the egg shell It does so in order to get out of that Hell When it finally succeeds, it’ll then fly To its comfort zone it’ll say bye Are you being confined in a small space How long will you remain at that place? Before you can explore more territories, Break away from the former glories. Yesterday’s excellence is today’s average You must strive to be better age after age Never accept the available mediocrity As the only preferable opportunity Decide to grow from below to hero And make it a point to vacate level zero Reach out and arise with power God’s blessings on you, will shower Agree to grow, never attempt to be slow Be not afraid. Never doubt. You’ll flow The grace of God will be your guide Taking you along, side by side.

fear of change is like standing under a hot shower and knowing the moment you'll turn it off you'll be freezing cold

I shower in the dark, barely able to tell soap from conditioner, and tell myself that I will emerge new and strong, that the water will heal me.

Everyone gets killed in the shower. Don't you go to the movies? Psycho. Dead in shower. The MExican in No country for Old Men. Dead in shower. Michelle Pfeiffer in What Lies Beneath. Almost dead in shower, or in the bath, anyway. But she did that thing with her toe and got out OD. Still the shower, though...Glen Close in Fatal Attraction. Dead in shower. John Travolta in Pulp Fiction. Very dead in shower. But never closets. I can't think of anyone shot in a closet. This is why I hide in closets.

He didn't administer a reign of terror, just the occasional light shower.

He smells of secondhand cigar smoke and a brew of perfumes from his bachelor party, but it would be enticing foreplay to shower him fresh before sullying him anew.

I could take a shower every day in my own bathroom. I almost didn’t know what to do with such luxury. Other than, you know, not stink.

Forget about showering with my fellow students in Tribeca Alternative’s prison-style showers—one nozzle for four to six girls at a time—in the locker room. It was impossible to work up a sweat during what passed for physical education class at TAHS, so there was no need to shower, anyway. Well, impossible for me, considering that, in the past, whenever a volleyball or whatever came near me, I’d always make sure to step calmly away to avoid it. See? No sweat. No need for a shower. Problem solved.

In the morning, as we're enjoying a shower together, Cash asks Mikey how long he's been working here. "Since I was fourteen." "How OLD are you now?" "Eighteen." "Nice. Are there any other hot guys working here besides you?" "I'm not a prostitute. I'm a ranch hand." "Sorry- I didn't mean-" "It's okay." As they kiss and make up, I inform Cash that I was Mikey's first. "Really?" Cash laughed. "You were?" "Yeah-" Mikey answered. "He was." "I was his birthday present last month..." Cash laughed, "How much did that set you back-?

One cold shower in morning, is a great and unexpected from you.

One can talk good and shower down roses, but it's the receiver that has to walk through the thorns, and all its false expectations.

Our mornings were never "rise and shine." They were "rise and fight." They were loud and ravaging. They were heavy and unnerving, like the after-math of a war, with unresolved territorial disputes. They were never serene, but they were beautiful. More beautiful than the smile you wear when you step out of the shower, more tempting than the sight of you brewing coffee from across the kitchen bar, more promising than a glorious victory, bigger than all our tumultuous past. Bigger than you. Bigger than I.

The definition of a relationship is like a shower. You go in when it is cold, and come out when it is too hot.

I turn the water all the way hot, turn my back to the water, and I take it. I close my eyes and I'm on the hundredth floor with the jet-fuel fire at my back and the drop below. I take it and take it until I can't take it, until the heat takes over everything, and I jump, plummeting to the street I'm out of the shower. I turn my back to the mirror and look at the too-red skin behind my shoulder blades. The wind blows north and the smoke is here. Then the wind shifts and you can't smell a thing. Then the wind shifts again. Now you smell it, now you don't.

My best ideas come in the shower, where I’m showered with water, but also ideas.

~Seasons of Life~ When the sunburn I blind, When the sky showers I cover, When the wind blows I blanket, When the death calls I undergo, When would I experience the nature?

Seeing his daughter slowly die, coupled with his infinite sadness and misery, the clockmaker becomes a recluse to the tower of the castle and begins to build something behind closed doors, not even his daughter knows what he’s up to. For five years, she only sees him briefly at meal-times before locking himself up in the tower once again..." "...Did he have a bathroom in the tower?" "Yes, Jack. A big one! En-suite! Power-shower and spa! Where was I!?

--she walked into her bathroom, stripped, and entered the shower. The door opened a minute later to expose Riley standing there, beer in hand. Scraping damp strands of red off her face, she glared at him. "I don't remember giving you an invitation." "You said to amuse myself while you shower." A slow, slow, deliciously slow smile. It said gotcha

So I am not a broken heart. I am not the weight I lost or miles or ran and I am not the way I slept on my doorstep under the bare sky in smell of tears and whiskey because my apartment was empty and if I were to be this empty I wanted something solid to sleep on. Like concrete. I am not this year and I am not your fault. I am muscles building cells, a little every day, because they broke that day, but bones are stronger once they heal and I am smiling to the bus driver and replacing my groceries once a week and I am not sitting for hours in the shower anymore. I am the way a life unfolds and bloom and seasons come and go and I am the way the spring always finds a way to turn even the coldest winter into a field of green and flowers and new life. I am not your fault.

Tears are the summer showers to the soul.

Where are you going?” Wesley asked in a semi-sleepy voice. “Home.” I pulled on my jeans. “I’ve gotta take a shower and get ready for school.” He pushed himself up on one elbow to look at me. His hair was a mess, brown curls falling into his eyes and sticking up in the back. “You can shower here,” he offered. “I might even join you if you’re lucky.

There were days when I still put on make up in case you’d come back, but I wear the same clothes and shower in the rain and eat when I can and sleep when I can, which is rare and not often, so if you’d see me now on these streets where I once imagined walking with you you’d have a hard time recognising me. I takes a lot to run away.

To live for the hope of something isn’t really living at all, and so, like a child putting away its toys and picking up a tool, he marched to Lyca’s bathroom, to shower off the stench of failure, soap up the death of hope, then wash away the ashes of his love for Daphne.

Whenever they are given the choice, some people choose a bath over a shower; they, too, would like to do their bit to waste water.

When you live with a woman you learn something every day. So far I have learned that long hair will clog up the shower drain before you can say 'Liquid-Plumr';

You can’t shower happiness on others without getting few drops back on yourself.

You know, we can still put that suit to use, though.” I glanced toward the truck and Lock’s face lit up as I closed the distance between us. “What happened to needing a shower?” “Showers are overrated,” I whispered, holding his gaze through the visor. “Plus,” I turned my head to look down the hall, “Jay is down there now.” “That’d be right. Let me just hang up my hat.” He was pulling away when I caught his wrist. “Nuh-uh. Keep the helmet. I want to be with my firefighter.

You okay?" Just waiting for the water to boil. Burning shower. One of the only things that helps when I'm totally freaking out." I'm not sure how to respond. "So," I whisper, "you want anything?" Yeah," She replies, sarcastic "I want to be bulimic, but the vomit grosses me out.

A morning contrast shower works as a gym, sauna and spa in your bathroom.

After this is over, I want a shower in a really big bathroom." "I'll get us the penthouse." "What makes you think you'll be sharing it with me?" "I live in hope.

A seemingly simple task like taking a bath or wearing a condom feels like multitasking to someone who suffers from hemiplegia or has only one hand.

And that person must be trying to prove to IDIA…” I pause. “Something. That he’s stronger? Or that he doesn’t need them?” I rub my forehead. “It sounded much more cohesive and brilliant in the shower.