Quotes About Asks

On some positions, cowardice asks the question, is it expedient? And then expedience comes along and asks the question, is it politic? Vanity asks the question, is it popular? Conscience asks the question, is it right? There comes a time when one must take the position that is neither safe nor politic nor popular, but he must do it because conscience tells him it is right.

Love simply is - it asks no permissions. Acceptance is all love asks, the only demand it makes, but it is an absolute one. You can either admit it to your heart or refuse it, but there's no other option.

This is the beauty of the Qur'an: it asks you to reflect and reason, and not to worship the sun or moon but the One who has created everything. The Qur'an asks man to reflect upon the sun and moon and God's creation in general.

The world asks, How much does he give? Christ asks why does he give?

What (the Arizona immigration law) is likely to mean effectively is that if in the course of a traffic stop, a cop asks you for a driver's license, and you don't have one, and he asks you for other identification, and you have none, and he calls ICE and they have no record of you as a legal immigrant, you're in trouble. This is near-fascism?

The tragedy of young-earth creationism is that it takes a relatively recent and extreme view of Genesis, applies to it an unjustified scientific gloss, and then asks sincere and well-meaning seekers to swallow this whole, despite the massive discordance with decades of scientific evidence from multiple disciplines. Is it any wonder that many sadly turn away from faith concluding that they cannot believe in a God who asks for an abandonment of logic and reason?

The winner asks, "May I help?" The loser asks, "Do you expect me to do that?"

Lovers O lovers, lovers it is time to set out from the world. I hear a drum in my soul's ear coming from the depths of the stars. Our camel driver is at work; the caravan is being readied. He asks that we forgive him for the disturbance he has caused us, He asks why we travellers are asleep. Everywhere the murmur of departure; the stars, like candles thrust at us from behind blue veils, and as if to make the invisible plain, a wondrous people have come forth.

Never say no when a client asks for something, even if it is the moon. You can always try, and anyhow there is plenty of time afterwards to explain that it was not possible.

I want to reform the tax code so that it's simple, fair, and asks the wealthiest households to pay higher taxes on incomes over $250,000 - the same rate we had when Bill Clinton was president; the same rate we had when our economy created nearly 23 million new jobs, the biggest surplus in history, and a lot of millionaires to boot.

Incidentally, I only have one cavity, and as much as my dentist asks me to, I just can't bring myself to floss.

If someone asks for a soft drink at a party, we no longer think he is a wimp.

Curiosity and irreverence go together. Curiosity cannot exist without the other. Curiosity asks, "Is this true?" "Just because this has always been the way, is the best or right way of life, the best or right religion, political or economic value, morality?" To the questioner, nothing is sacred. He detests dogma, defies any finite definition of morality, rebels against any repression of a free, open search of ideas no matter where they may lead. He is challenging, insulting, agitating, discrediting. He stirs unrest.

...it was like an examination paper that asks grammar, when what you want to be asked is Kings of England.

Every day, have a little bird on your shoulder that asks, 'Is today the day? Am I ready? Am I doing all I need to do? Am I being the person i want to be? Is today the day I die?

And so, lastly, does the very name of "Catholic", which, not without reason, amid so many heresies, the Church has thus retained; so that, though all heretics wish to be called Catholics, yet when a stranger asks where the Catholic Church meets, no heretic will venture to point to his own chapel or house.

That's one thing I like about Hollywood. The writer is there revealed in his ultimate corruption. He asks no praise, because his praise comes to him in the form of a salary check. In Hollywood the average writer is not young, not honest, not brave, and a bit overdressed. But he is darn good company, which book writers as a rule are not. He is better than what he writes. Most book writers are not as good.

It used to be said that, socially speaking, Philadelphia asked who a person is, New York how much is he worth, and Boston what does he know. Nationally it has now become generally recognized that Boston Society has long cared even more than Philadelphia about the first point and has refined the asking of who a person is to the point of demanding to know who he was. Philadelphia asks about a man's parents; Boston wants to know about his grandparents.

Are you crazy? It's a common phrase, I know. But it means something particular to me: the tunnels, the security screens, the plastic forks, the shimmering, ever-shifting borderline that like all boundaries beckons and asks to be crossed. I do not want to cross it again.

Love is no love which asks for a return.

The most dangerous question a prospect or customer asks is "Why should I?" And he may ask it more than once... The product and its communication stream must continue to provide him with both rational and emotional answers.

If a boy, if a man, asks you if you're all right and you say yes, he'll always believe you and get on with what he wants to do. It's just the way they're made.

I learned something from that. If someone asks me something that I really don't want to do, I say no. I have to trust that. And I'm not afraid to talk money.

Have you worked here long?" Sebastian asks. Just a few months," I say. "Do you come here a lot?" As if you don't know, Jade. I used to come every day, or, you know, when I could, I'd bring Bo after work. Or just myself." At night sometimes. You'd climb the fence. You'd watch the stars. You'd tilt back your head and look at the sky. You'd think it over, whatever it was.

Nations crumble from within when the citizenry asks of government those things which the citizenry might better provide for itself.

Never, never trust anyone who asks for white wine. It means they're phonies.

A woman seldom asks advice before she has bought her wedding clothes.

My wife asks me, when I get home from auditions, if they asked how tall I am. And if I say "Yes," then she says, "Okay, you didn't get that job."

Two young salmon are swimming along one day. As they do, they are passed by a wiser, older fish coming the other way. The wiser fish greets the two as he passes, saying, "Morning boys, how's the water?" The other two continue to swim in silence for a little while, until the first one turns to the other and asks, "What the hell is water?"

Do not be deceived, Wormwood. Our cause is never more in danger than when a human, no longer desiring, but still intending, to do our Enemy's will, looks round upon a universe from which every trace of Him seems to have vanished, and asks why he has been forsaken, and still obeys.

one year as his wife, and id have become one of those abject, quaking women who look at their husbands when someone asks them a question. I've always despised that type, but I see how it happens now

The man is happiest who lives from day to day and asks no more, garnering the simple goodness of life.

Love asks us to enjoy our life For nothing good can come of death. Who is alive? I ask. Those who are born of love. Seek us in love itself, Seek love in us ourselves. Sometimes I venerate love, Sometimes it venerates me.

When someone asks you, A penny for your thoughts, and you put your two cents in, what happens to the other penny?

Almost every day, someone asks if I ever flat iron my hair. I say, 'No, because I'm afraid it wouldn't look good and wouldn't come back curly.'

and then she asks me how many sexual partners I've had and I say one or two depending on your definition of what I did to Custer . . .

The arresting officer, who I had literally known, all my life. You know what I mean? This guy lived four doors down the street me, in a town of less than four hundred people. *We've met.* Now, he takes me to jail, and he asks me if I have any aliases. And I was just being a smartass, and I said, "Yeah. They call me, "Tater Salad!" Seventeen years later, I'm handcuffed on a bench in New York with blood coming out of my nose, and this cop goes, "Are you Ron 'Tater Salad' White?"

When somebody asks me, "Who are you?" I tell them, "I am the oldest ethnic transgender community in the world, which has its own culture and own religious beliefs." And we are in four countries in South Asia: India, Pakistan, Bangladesh, and the Terai region of Nepal. What binds us hijras together is the same pain that has gone through our lives, which is much thicker than blood. That's why in our community we don't have old-age homes. Our guru may be horrible, but at the same time, we take care of the guru till the last breath.

Forgiving other people who have wronged us or hurt us or embarrassed us is not easy. In fact, sometimes it seems impossible. But that is what God did for us and what He asks us to do for others.

I'm the most terrific liar you ever saw in your life. It's awful. If I'm on my way to the store to buy a magazine, even, and somebody asks me where I'm going, I'm liable to say I'm going to the opera. It's terrible.

I'm guessing I'm your fake girlfriend? B. J. Asks, sighing. It's a miracle that he figured it out. He's not usually the best with things that aren't spelled out for him. Of course, sweetie, I say. I try not to think about the fact that I'm talking to B. J. Like we're in love. B. J. Is six-foot-four and 220 pounds. Not someone you want to think about being intimate with.

When a customer asks what no one else has ever asked, pay close attention.

Is that all I am? A friend?" "Of course not," I say. "I love you." "Am I the only one?" she asks. "Yes. Completely." First, last, and always.

He is a great Necromancer, for he asks counsel counsell of the Dead (i.e. books).

You may know the pain of possessing and dependency, reducing persons to objects, but this is not love. Love doesn't attempt to bind, ensnare, capture. It is light, free of the burden of attachments. Love asks nothing, is fulfilled in itself. When love is there, nothing remains to be done.

The fact that I'm virtually deaf. Any woman who's going to date a rock musician has to be prepared to repeat herself every 10 seconds. My wife asks me where we should go for dinner and it sounds like the schoolteacher from Charlie Brown.

My memory loves you… it asks about you all the time.

The characters in my novels are my own unrealized possibilities. That is why I am equally fond of them all and equally horrified by them. Each one has crossed a border that I myself have circumvented. It is that crossed border (the border beyond which my own "I" ends) which attracts me most. For beyond that border begins the secret the novel asks about. This novel is not the author's confession; it is an investigation of human life in the trap the world has become.