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“Unlike my mother, my father does not cry quietly. His wails roll out like a wave of pain, and I scramble to roll up my window. My mother cannot hear that. I cannot bear to hear it myself. I am not used to my father's crying. I've had no time to harden my heart against him.”
Margaret Peterson Haddix“Being happy is harder than being discontent. For happiness we have to roll up our sleeves and knock down houses of cards. Because of this exertion, many prefer to abide by ‘fake’ happiness.( " Happiness blowing in the wind. " )”
Erik Pevernagie“Someone might as well roll up the whole sky, pack it away for good.”
Jandy Nelson, The Sky Is Everywhere“Even your little sorrows you may roll upon God, for He counteth the hairs of your head.”
Charles Haddon Spurgeon, Morning and Evening, Based on the English Standard Version“She would roll up her sleeves and dispense with sentimentality, and do whatever blood-soaked, bad-smelling thing had to be done. She would become adept with axes.”
Margaret Atwood, Moral Disorder and Other Stories“To say yes you have to sweat and roll up your sleeves and plunge both hands into life up to the elbows. It is easy to say no even if saying no means death.”
Jean Anouilh“To say yes you have to sweat and roll up your sleeves and plunge both hands into life up to the elbows. It is easy to say no even if saying no means death.”
Jean Anouilh“Facing problems is like looking at a sink piled up with dirty dishes. More you think more they stink. It takes only to roll up the sleeves and start washing them, one by one. In just ten minutes they are done.”
Vinko Vrbanic“It comes down to this. Some one must wash the dishes. Now, would you expect man, man made in the image of God, to roll up his sleeves and wash the dishes? Why, it would be blasphemy. I know that I am but a rib and so I wash the dishes.”
Marie Jenney Howe, An Anti-Suffrage Monologue“If only certain things had been preventable, his life would have unfurled in front of him as intended, like a lush Oriental carpet. No surprises, no detours. Just a thick tapestry of days and nights that at the end of his time on earth, he could roll up and proudly claim as his own.”
Shilpa Agarwal, Haunting Bombay