Quotes About Comfort

capitalism always did manage to make the comfort industry work better than socialism did.

But sometimes I have to get out of my comfort zone to stay motivated to do excellent work over the long term.

Your principles created the boundaries of your plan. You probably didn't consciously think about your principles regarding going out to dinner, but you thought within them: standards of food and service, affordability, convenience, and comfort all may have played a part. In any case, your purpose and principles were the defining impetus and boundaries of your planning.

More goals may not be necessary for you now—you need comfort with the ones you've already put in motion, and the confidence that you can execute elegantly on any new ones.

Death is knowing you're about to die,' says Mam. It's seeing the dead and seeing the living all at once. It's wanting not to die and not to live. It's wanting to stay with the last breath when the dead and the living are all around you, and touching you, and whispering, It's all right, Mam. Everything's all right. But there's no way of staying with the last breath. You have to die.

You're so beautiful, Ella,' I told her. I tried to tell her more, but the words I had were not enough and the sounds came out as useless gasps and murmurs. I just held her close, closer. I ached to protect her from all darkness, all pain, and all death.

Yes no yes no yes no? Red blue? Yes red, no blue? No red, yes no? In out, up down? Do don't, can can't? Choices sit on the shelf life New shoes in a shoe shop. If the in crowd are squeezing into a must-have shoe And the one pair left are too tiny for you Don't feel compelled into choosing them If you're really a size 9, buy that size. While everyone else Hobbles round with sore feet Your choices should feel comfortable Or they aren't your choices at all. Why limp when you can sprint?

Why was it he was more comfortable with the dead than the living? The answer was relatively simple. The dead conveniently never asked questions.

to take it easy," he said defensively.

bikini with a short terrycloth cover-up over it.

Whatever was hurting the lady, he simply didn't have the tools to help her. Apparently, a deep friendship didn't cut it with matters of a wounded soul.

Despite all that, the uniform had been a total disaster. Troops called it "pajamas" because it did not ride well on anyone, no matter how fit they were.

sofa. She looked around, her eyes taking in a wall of French doors that was visible on the ocean side. The room was huge, with ceilings that soared at least twenty feet high. An interior second-story balcony ran across one side of the room. Another wall held a collection of finely bound books. Comfortable furnishings were placed throughout.

I have someone who loves me for me. Seriously, it REALLY helps!

Deep down, most humans prefer living out their lives surrounded by comfortable certainties, guided by warm myths and metaphors, knowing that they'll understand their children, and their children will understand them.

It may be that the best time for Otherness has already passed. Clearly part of the basis for this renaissance has been wealth, especially the unprecedented comfort enjoyed by the vast majority of Westerners since World War II, in which very few of us can even conceive of starving

When people fear for their futures, they like to gather in a dark room and stare at a screen, holding hands against the gloom.

If you truly believed that Jesus was praying fervently for you right now, how much of your anxiety would flee? Would it melt before the passionate pleas you make to your Lord?

Your feelings do not determine your worth, simply your relative state of comfort or discomfort.

The first thing the boy Garion remembered was the kitchen at Faldor's farm. For all the rest of his life he had a special warm feeling for kitchens and those peculiar sounds and smells that seemed somehow to combine into a bustling seriousness that had to do with love and food and comfort and security and, above all, home. No matter how high Garion rose in life, he never forgot that all his memories began in that kitchen.

For all the rest of his life he had a special warm feeling for kitchens and those peculiar sounds and smells that seemed somehow to combine into a bustling seriousness that had to do with love and food and comfort and security and, above all, home.

He could lose himself in a story, and for a little while it might make things bearable.

The thought that the bullet has already been fired at each of us and it is only a matter of time when it will hit, brings comfort to some and terror to others.

Good fiction's job is to comfort the disturbed and disturb the comfortable.