Best 3603 quotes in «doors quotes» category

After torturing our adrenaline by watching a horror movie for a couple of hours the places we are most afraid of are the doors and windows of the room even though they are the only ways for us to escape in case of occurrence such an event.

Äsch, det är väl bara att banka ihop några jävla brädor, sa Bjartur.

All the doors you ignored or refused to enter represents your uncreated fates!

...but you have to know when you close those doors, you don't leave anything for the other person.

Avoid those who seek friends in order to maintain a certain social status or to open doors they would not otherwise be able to approach.

Don't be fooled by the appearance of the doors! You can meet extraordinary beauties behind a shabby door and a wonderful door can be opened to a dump!

Either you enter the interesting gates and experience interesting things or you stand behind the gates and sit cowardly!

Cautiously, he moved further out, checking the roofs, doors, windows. Nothing. He walked out further, keeping against the wooden wall of a building, just in case. His heart was pounding in his ears. Strange, isn’t it? You could be in hundreds of fights, but everyone always seemed like the first time. A million different things could happen, go completely wrong. Then it might well be his last. Where is he? Which building?

For the cowards, all doors are locked; for the daring, all doors are open!

Even if doors are open to the fool, he/she will still be foolish in accessing them.

Four simple chambers. A thousand complicated doors. One of them is yours.

Every time the Lord grants you His mercy and favor, doors will be opened for you.

Gandalf never had this kind of problem. He had exactly this problem, actually, standing in front of the hidden Dwarf door to Moria. Remember when . . . I sighed. Sometimes my inner monologue annoys even me. “Edro, edro,” I muttered. “Open.” I rubbed at the bridge of my nose and ventured, “Mellon.” Nothing happened. The wards stayed. I guessed the Corpsetaker had never read Tolkien. Tasteless bitch.

How concrete everything becomes in the world of the spirit when an object, a mere door, can give images of hesitation, temptation, desire, security, welcome and respect. If one were to give an account of all the doors one has closed and opened, of all the doors one would like to re-open, one would have to tell the story of one's entire life.

Garage door openers mysteriously not working are a clue to electromagnetic interference (EMI) issues.

I blame what happened next on the door. The one right across the hall from me, a mere three feet away. I love doors. All of them, without exception. Doors lead to things and I’ve never met one I haven’t wanted to open. All the same, if that door hadn’t been so old and decorative, so decidedly closed, if a thread of light hadn’t positioned itself with such wretched temptation across its middle, highlighting the keyhole and its intriguing key, perhaps I might have stood a chance; remained twiddling my thumbs until Percy came to collect me. But it was and I didn’t; I maintain that I simply couldn’t. Sometimes, you can tell just by looking at a door there’s something interesting behind it.

I climb the door instead of a tree Just to crawl with myself walking free What if I’m a lizard beneath my skin Changing my colours of the human I’ve been

He locked the doors and windows and sat in the middle of a room afraid of going out there in the storm and rain, in the darkest night he had ever seen. All of a sudden there were knocks everywhere and the walls turned into the glass so that he could helplessly witness his fears approach him like the ghosts. He saw them crawling on the wall and climbing the roof staring into his eyes, in no time the walls disappeared and they stood around him laughing and consuming him one by one at a time. all he saw, in the end, was the ugly and scary faces of himself.

If guys don't open doors for you, then they aren't worth your time.

If nobody knocks your door, knock your own door! The most precious support for you is the support you give yourself!

If one door closes, another opens. As far as you're growing and updating yourself, the world craves to have a piece of you.

If you close your door to the world of books, the gates of the world of ignorance automatically opens and quickly pulls you inside!

If I do not agree with something or do not like something, it will be wrong to presume that I hate it. Presuming disagreement or dislike to be the same as hatred is stifling engagement. Disengagement leads to otherness, which leads to fear, which in turn leads to real hatred. Either we tolerate disagreement and dislike or we have to tolerate real hatred. The intolerance of disagreement is filling civil society lexicon with phobias each of which is leading to a disconnect, to another closed door. It may sound odd but only tolerance of disagreement demolishes walls. Doors and windows, open or closed, presume that there exists a wall, a wall created by intolerance. And doors and windows, if they exist, are closed too easily, at the slightest of pretexts.

If you open the door of wisdom, all other doors will be opened!

If you didn't have a real good imagination you'd probably think those noises were the sounds of some kid blowing a horn for the first time, but I knew better than that. I could tell those were the squeaks and squawks of one door closing and another one opening.

If you feel you have to open a particular door, open it, otherwise all your life that door will haunt your mind!

In life, courage is sometimes to enter through the door and sometimes it is to walk out the door!

It’s the beating of my heart. The way I lie awake, playing with shadows slowly climbing up my wall. The gentle moonlight slipping through my window and the sound of a lonely car somewhere far away, where I long to be too, I think. It’s the way I thought my restless wandering was over, that I’d found whatever I thought I had found, or wanted, or needed, and I started to collect my belongings. Build a home. Safe behind the comfort of these four walls and a closed door. Because as much as I tried or pretended or imagined myself as a part of all the people out there, I was still the one locking the door every night. Turning off the phone and blowing out the candles so no one knew I was home. ’cause I was never really well around the expectations of my personality and I wanted to keep to myself. and because I haven’t been very impressed lately. By people, or places. Or the way someone said he loved me and then slowly changed his mind.

I offer a duo of free-range monosyllabics: one being “wow” and the other being “cool,” often said in sequence, spoken without drawl. Take them, leave them, or show me to the Dewer’s--

I'm sure that I know that, it's behind one of all doors.

I try, but they always see through me. The passages will never lead anywhere, the doors will always be shut.

I walked through the back yard to the door, for in these parts everyone seemed to always use the backdoor as the front and the front door was only for the vicar. Pushing open the heavy wooden door I immediately smelt the food on the stove and to this day the smell of broth makes me slightly queasy. The heat of the stove hit me and with the flush on my face from walking I felt it redden further.

Loving me is like entering a dungeon with a lot of doors. I cannot guarantee you that you will get the key of every door you come across, I cannot tell you which door leads you where and what is behind it, I cannot assure you that you will head back out again the way you came in. All I can say is if you manage to open every right door and the last one too, I will make you one of my secrets forever, you will see and feel things that you have never come across, which will never let you leave again from the paradise that you have reached.

Often doors of opportunity are opened, but few opt to walk through them.

I wish in the city of your heart you would let me be the street where you walk when you are most yourself. I imagine the houses: It has been raining, but the rain is done and the children kept home have begun opening their doors.

Murphy hakupenda kupoteza muda. Alinyanyuka na kumimina risasi, Mungu akamsaidia akadondosha wawili huku wengine wakipotea kwa kuruka vibaya na kukwepa. Kwa kasi Murphy alikimbia huku ameinama mpaka katika milango mikubwa ya nje, ambayo sasa ilikuwa wazi. Hapo akasita. Chochote kingeweza kumpata kwa nje kama hangekuwa mwangalifu. Bunduki yake ilishakwisha risasi. Aliitupa na kuchungulia nje akaona adui mmoja akikatisha kwenda nyuma ambako ndiko mashambulizi yalikokuwa yakisikika sasa. Murphy hakumtaka huyo. Aligeukia ndani kuona kama kulikuwa na bunduki aichukue lakini hata kisu hakikuwepo. Akiwa bado anashangaa, ghafla alitokea adui – kwa ndani – na kurusha risasi, bahati nzuri akamkosa Murphy. Murphy, kama mbayuwayu, aliruka na kusafiri hewani hapohapo akadondoka nyuma ya tangi la gesi karibu na milango ya nje. Alipoona vile, adui alidhani Murphy alidondoka mbali. Alibung’aa asijue la kufanya. Wasiwasi ulipomzidi alishindwa kuvumilia. Alishika bunduki kwa nguvu na kupiga kelele, "Yuko hukuuu!" Halafu akajificha ili Murphy asimwone. Lakini Murphy alikuwa akimwona.

Nobody seems to know which came first; egg or chicken – except of course for agents of the Time Saving Agency – who can find out anything about, well – anything. The only trouble is, they aren’t talking – however, you can take it from me – they know. The answer to these and other puzzles are kept safe and secure behind fire-walls and thick security doors secured with, er – time-locks, where one could possibly find answers to many other troubling questions, and not all of them necessarily relating to chickens.

On the third, directly before me, were embedded more polished letters: PER OMNIA SAECULA SAECULORUM. For ever and ever. In the red light, the brushed steel glowed softly, like embers. The polish letters blazed. Without a hiss, For ever and ever slid aside, as though inviting me to eternity.

Open the doors of your heart and they will come… And for every cruel arrow, Sweet caresses of delirium also To nourish your soul.

President Trump is the public face of a corrupt corporate controlled government that was previously conducting its shady dealings out of sight behind closed doors.

Perhaps the only reason why you worry in life, tarry your goals and bury your joy is that you are still bearing the untold story of you untouched, which seems to bang on the doors of your heart every time! Go and open the way, and fulfill your destiny!

Room full of Success has doors called failures.

Somehow I always expect that one day The doors will speak out to me And share their past Life as it was centuries ago Perhaps they have and I did not listen

Shifting perspective(s) and being proactive are essential to your our life paths, progress and possibilities: "Just because a door appears closed it does not mean that it is locked - nor that it will not open with the right heart, call or touch

Sometimes a door appears in front of you; You keep trying to open it and get in! However, if you give up the door, the road before you suddenly opens!

Sometimes you need to go through many small doors, to get to that big door of opportunity.

The best thing about existence is that any moment in time can be a point of beginning to anything! In other words, every moment of our life holds a key for the unknown or the closed doors of new paths!

The door refuses and resists any key which does not belong to that door!

She knocked and waited, because when the door was opened from within, it had the potential to lead someplace quite different.

Someone is pounding on a door within you and hoping for an answer. They want to tell us the secret tale of ourselves. The stories we’ve never told. Some African tribes believe if you were to tell someone your entire story the audience would actually become you. From then on, the only life the teller would have would be in and through the listener. Some believe this is the relationship between Jesus and his disciples. How I wished for my story to be blemish free. How I wished to be a good-natured soul giving back to the world, regardless of how broken I was. In the end, it’s those things we are willing to die to change that sculpt our story. Some people open the floodgates of their minds and hearts so memories burst forth like water through a breached dam. Pieces of our lives can be found among the floating wreckage, and somewhere, the presence of God hovers over the surface of the deep. Inside, I am treading, biding my time, waiting for the magic I thought I owned as a child. Many seek this enchantment. I sought my wife, daughter and the power to conjure hope.