Door Quotes
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Beyond drama and chaos, beyond anxiety and fear, lies a zone of endless peace and love. Let's all take a very deep breath, slow down for just a moment and remember this. That alone will open the door...
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I think I tend to try to let a woman walk through a door first, and I walk on the outside on the street. But that's probably because I'm an ancient creature.
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I do think my childhood is one of the fundamental reasons that I'm able to do my job. We were raised in this totally nonjudgmental family. We never knew who was going to walk in the front door. And as a journalist and a photographer, you walk into so many different scenes that you have to be open to everything.
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My dad, as much as I love him, has one of those signs - 'The Isbell's' - on his front door, and he's got the damn apostrophe in there. I haven't strangled him yet.
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My dog learned how to beg by watching me through the bedroom door.
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Everyone talks about, 'Get your foot in the door,' but I never understood that mentality. Why would I want to go in that house? Why not build my own house? Why not take a chair and smash a window?
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... when the locked door opens, and there comes in a young woman, deadly pale, and with long fair hair, who glides to the fire, and sits down in the chair we have left there, wringing her hands.
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A lot of people say that I took the first shot for Bitcoin. The first person to walk through the door always gets shot, and then everyone else can come through.
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A simple social engineering hack might involve leaving a thumb drive on the pavement close to the driver's door of a car.
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There's a handful of teams that have a revolving door, that are changing coaches every couple of years, and you can look at the success that they're having. They're not.
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I'm all about taking chances. You have to ask yourself, if you're not taking any chances, are you actually even living? Every time you walk out of your door and you're out in the world, you take a chance on not coming back. That is the danger and the dynamic of being alive.
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It seems to me obvious that infants and many animals that do not in any ordinary sense have a language or perform speech acts nonetheless have Intentional states. Only someone in the grip of a philosophical theory would deny that small babies can literally be said to want milk and that dogs want to be let out or believe that their master is at the door.
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You are searching for the magic key that will unlock the door to the source of power; and yet you have the key in your own hands, and you may use it the moment you learn to control your thoughts.
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In any job, you can come under attack or have a door slammed in your face. You do want to listen to critics; you don't want to be in a cocoon and never change. Get a second opinion from coworkers and friends. Know that criticism can be valid, but don't take it personally.
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You know, this is why I just don't answer the door (unless I know who's arriving). I don't want to fend off pint-sized salesfolk or tie-with-short-sleeved-shirt-wearing adults. But if you are going to answer the door in your own house, what's wrong with being armed? What makes people feel entitled to a kid-friendly greeting when they disturb random strangers in their homes?
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When you work with people and are friends with them also, you have more of a shorthand. I think people relax more and it opens the door to being less precious and trying things that, when you're shooting and writing, it becomes much more collaborative - therefore funny, hopefully.
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If you win, if you make money. If you do quality work, then other people of color, whatever color that is, can get in the door.
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I think he came to the front door and rang the bell, and Maggie let him in, and he said he had forgotten his key; so I think she must have been down stairs.
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When onstage, I always try to take my audience through as many emotions as I possibly can. I want them to go from laughter to tears, be shocked and surprised and walk out the door with a renewed sense of themselves - and maybe a smile.
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Everybody always says that I'm the girl next door, which makes me think that y'all must have a lot of weird next-door neighbours.
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You walk through a series of arches, so to speak, and then, presently, at the end of a corridor, a door opens and you see backward through time, and you feel the flow of time, and realize you are only part of a great nameless procession.
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I'm the classic absent-minded professor: I'm very focused on something, and meanwhile, I've left the refrigerator door open for hours.
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You're a prefect? Oh Ronnie! That's everyone in the family!" "What are Fred and I? Next door neighbors?
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Going out into life--that is dying. Christ is the door out of life.
