Quotes About Door

What you can't teach someone is how to find the door. You can't give someone a door to another universe. You can tell them that the door exists, and if they're stuck in the hallway you can be like, "You're stuck in the hallway," but you can't open the door for them.

What's that?' Beck shoved his back ineffectually against the glass door, suffering under the weight of a huge box. 'Your brian.' I already have a brain.' If you did, you'd have opened the door for me.' I shot him a dark look and let him shove against the door a moment longer before I ducked under his arms to push it open. 'What is it really?' Schoolbooks. We're going to educate you properly, so you don't grow up to be an idiot.; I remembered by intrigued by the idea of school-in-a-box, just-add-water-and-Sam.

Maybe your life resembles a Bethlehem stable. Crude in some spots, smelly in others. Not much glamour. Not always neat. People in your circle remind you of stable animals: grazing like sheep, stubborn like donkeys, and that cow in the corner looks a lot like the fellow next door. You, like Joseph, knocked on the innkeeper's door. But you were too late. Or too old, sick, dull, damaged, poor, or peculiar. You know the sound of a slamming door.

...she's leaving now. ... Janis attacks the back door of the school gym and finds herself in a heavy cloud of smoke. She realizes she's found the Goths' hangout. Who knew? "Oof," someone says. She keeps walking, muttering, "sorry" to whomever it was she hit with the flying door. *** Cabel: ... That was the Goth stage where I decided I'd never get the girl of my dreams because of my scars. Not to mention the hairstyle. (pause) But then she slammed a door handle into my gut. And, when a girl does that to a boy, it means she likes him.

I think that has to do with my awareness that in a sense we all have a certain measure of responsibility to those who have made it possible for us to take advantage of the opportunities. The door is opened only so far. If some of us can squeeze through the crack of that door, then we owe it to those who have made those demands that the door be opened to use the knowledge or the skills that we acquire not only for ourselves but in the service of the community as well. This is something that I guess I decided a long time ago.

Anyway, my office is small - one room, but on the corner, with a couple of windows. The sign on the door reads, simply, HARRY DRESDEN, WIZARD. Just inside the door is a table, covered with pamphlets with titles like: Magic and You, and Why Witches Don't Sink Any Faster Than Anyone Else - a Wizard's Perspective. I wrote most of them. I think it's important for we practitioners of the Art to keep up a good public image. Anything to avoid another Inquisition.

Today I personally believe that while Jesus came to open the door to God's house, all human beings can walk through that door, whether they know about Jesus or not. Today I see it as my call to help every person claim his or her own way to God.

Then someone started pounding on the door. And not a little "Hey, what's up?" pound. Like there was a big sale on door pounds down at the Pound Outlet. Buy one, get one free at Pounds-n-Stuff. --Being the Journal of Abby Normal

Any actor who's onstage... at least this is what I do... I'm always using 120% on whatever the heck I'm doing. I have to make an impression with all the bursts of things I do in this show... taking the picture, shutting the door, opening the door... as long as I'm making people laugh at those moments, I feel like I'm accomplishing something.

It is one of life's laws that as soon as one door closes another opens. But the tragedy is we look at the closed door and disregard the open one.

She had only to open a door, nothing but a door between the words,just large enough for her and Farid to pass through.

We have to find the back door to peoples' hearts because the front door is heavily guarded.

Most politicians have to find a way past that allergy. They have to find a way to go door to door, person to person, or else they don't win.

I think I was just a strange kid. I was definitely a weirdo. I ran a newspaper that had really dark stories all the time. My mom was always fun, she had this large box of costumes and I remember dressing up as a door-to-door saleswoman with a wig and this small suitcase I was using as a briefcase. I was walking down the street like that; I was sure I was fooling everyone.

I don't think it's very useful to open wide the door for young artists; the ones who break down the door are more interesting.

And so faintly you came tapping, tapping at my chamber door, That I scarce was sure I heard you"— here I opened wide the door; — Darkness there, and nothing more.

When one door of happiness closes, another opens; but often we look so long in disappointment and bitterness at the closed door that we do not expectantly look for and therefore see with pleasure and gratitude the one which has been opened for us.

Don't let failure or disappointment cut you off from God or make you think that the future is hopeless. When God closes one door, He often opens another door - if we seek it.

I worked at car washes - two or three different car washes. I worked at McDonald's and Wendy's, I worked as a dishwasher and as a telemarketer in two or three different places. I sold windows door-to-door and never once sold a window.

I have heard women complain about men holding doors for them,, as if it is inherently offensive and implies that they are weak. ... I would hold a door for anyone. ... It has to do with noticing our fellow human beings and saying, "I recognize that you're on this planet, and I don't want a door hitting you in the face.

Never fear a job, always respect it, and always leave yourself a hind door to escape. May your hind door always be open.

If you have a character stand up and put on her shoes and open the door, in order to do that, you're imagining her shoes and her clothes and her house and her door. The character becomes more real. But once you've done that, you can probably just get it all across with a couple of details.

A comedian is not a person who opens a funny door - he's the person who opens a door funny.

A door jumps out from shadows, then jumps away. This is what I've come to find: the back door, unlatched. Tooled by insular wind, it slams and slams without meaning to and without meaning.

A book is a door, you know. Always and forever. A book is a door into another place and another heart and another world.

How not to choose is the whole art of religion, how to drop into a choicelessness. But remember, don`t choose choicelessness! Otherwise, listening to me or to Sosan or Krishnamurti you will become enchanted by the word `choicelessness.` Your mind will say, "This is very good. Then ecstasy is possible and much bliss will happen to you if you become choicelessness. Then the door of the mysteries of life will be opened." The mind feels greedy. The mind says, "Okay, so I will choose choicelessness." The door is closed, only the label is changed, but you have fallen a victim of the old trick.

We write to expose the unexposed. Most human beings are dedicated to keeping that one door shut. But the writer's job is to see what's behind it, to see the bleak unspeakable stuff, and to turn the unspeakable into words - not just into any words but if we can, into rhythm and blues. You can't do this without discovering your own true voice, and you can't find your true voice and peer behind the door and report honestly and clearly to us if your parents are reading over your shoulder.

I always wondered, you know I watch "Cops" all the time - why doesn't a drug dealer design a trap door under their car? 'Cause cops don't have cameras under the cars, they get you for throwing stuff out the window! If you got a trap door under your car, boom! You would run over it. It would be genius.

When one door is closed, don't you know, another is open.

How not to imagine the tumors ripening beneath his skin, flesh I have kissed, stroked with my fingertips, pressed my belly and breasts against, some nights so hard I thought I could enter him, open his back at the spine like a door or a curtain and slip in like a small fish between his ribs, nudge the coral of his brains with my lips, brushing over the blue coil of his bowels with the fluted silk of my tail.

I am the angel of Reality, Seen for a moment standing in the door.

I used to tiptoe up to my bedroom door and leap into my room in an attempt to surprise my dolls in the midst of some kind of action. Unfortunately, they were always too quick for me. I'm still disappointed about that.

I live in a neighborhood that's really filled with sound - there's a lot of Jamaican auto body shops, and the guys next door play hip hop.

I'd better get going or Valek will be wondering where I am." "Yes, by all means go. I noticed you and Valek have become close. Tell him, for me, not to kill anybody, will you?" Sarcasm rendered Rand's voice sharp. I lost control and slammed the oven door shut. It echoed in the quiet kitchen. "At least Valek has the decency to inform me when he's poisoning me.

American Morons is the work of an original. Like Hitchcock or Ramsey Campbell, the style is precise, alert, and well-mannered, inviting us to enter Hirshberg's private world so that he may lock the door behind us. If there is anyone in contemporary fiction worth watching, it is Glen Hirshberg.

Cages come in lots of different colors and shapes. Some are gilded, while others have a slamming door. But golden handcuffs are still handcuffs.

The dream is a little hidden door in the innermost and most secret recesses of the soul, opening into that cosmic night which was psyche long before there was any ego-consciousness, and which will remain psyche no matter how far our ego-consciousness extends.

Down the hall came the wife. She was glorious, burning. She didn't know yet that her husband was dead. We knew. That's what gave her such power over us. The doctor took her into a room with a desk at the end of the hall, and from under the closed door a slab of brilliance radiated as if, by some stupendous process, diamonds were being incinerated in there. What a pair of lungs! She shrieked as I imagined an eagle would shriek. It felt wonderful to be alive to hear it! I've gone looking for that feeling everywhere.

When Death lurks at the door, the physician is considered as a God. When danger has been overcome, the physician is looked upon as an angel. When the patient begins to convalesce, the physician becomes a mere human. When the physician asks for his fees, he is considered as the devil himself.

He stopped and looked at her. "Your eyes are leaking." "It's the flowers. They make me sneeze." "Then let us be away from the garden. Open the door, love, if you will." She obeyed, then froze halfway over the threshold. "What did you call me?" "The first of countless endearments if you'll but stir yourself to hold our current course.

Why is it that men who can go through severe accidents, air raids, and any other major crisis always seems to think that they are at death's door when they have a simple head cold?

This was the door to both sustenance and sanity. And we were each other's key.

He turned, throwing over hi shoulder, ”And if he growls at you, even once, he’s out. He looks wild.” I am, Riley snapped inside her head. Do not laugh, she thought to herself. Her dad paused at the door. “Where does it stay while you’re at school?” It. Nice. “Outside.” “You could be inviting flees into our home, Mary Ann.” No. Laughing. “He’s clean, Dad. I swear. But if I spot a single little bug, I’ll bathe him.” That could prove interesting, Riley said.

I sit at my door, smoking a cigarette and sipping my absinthe, and I enjoy every day without a care in the world

My discovery of Tarkovsky's first film was like a miracle. Suddenly, I found myself standing at the door of a room the keys of which had, until then, never been given to me. It was a room I had always wanted to enter and where he was moving freely and fully at ease.

I tired the back door -- unlocked. Truley the Man Upstairs was smiling down on me.

For that which is boundless in you abides in the mansion of the sky, whose door is the morning mist, and whose windows are the songs and the silences of night.

When two individuals come together and leave their gender outside the bedroom door, then they make love.