Sleeve Quotes

“I have worn my heart on my sleeve because it is too painful to carry it inside my chest.When I carry it on my sleeve, it has the freedom to exist, to beat in rhythm with the Universe.I feel like I'm more alive and yes, there are those who out of curiosity will say or do things that can cause its delicate existence to feel pain and sorrow.I would rather deal with that, than to put it back in its little cage where it knows nothing else but the rhythm of my body and my Ego.My heart was never meant to be part of my Ego.My heart was meant to experience the Soul.”

“Life always has some surprises up its sleeve!”

“First find a path, and a little light to see by. Then push up your sleeves and start helping.”

“I don't get it - how you can feel like there are no consequences for living with your feelings on your sleeve.”

“What makes 'The Lorax' such a powerful fable is partly its shamelessness. It pulls no punches it wears its teacher heart on its sleeve. ”

“No more kissing beneath bridges?"Her face heated. She turned to go only to have him catch her sleeve. It was a risk, having such long sleeves."Why don't we both stay back here? No one will miss us and you're the most interesting part of the banquet anyway.""Shameless," she scolded.”

“I love to design. I am a commercial fashion designer. I always design jackets with two sleeves. I don't design jackets with three sleeves, or the layers and layers come off like little dolls from Russia. Fashion for me is a creative endeavor, but it is not art for me.”

“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. " )”

“Jess thought for a moment. 'You know those films where people fight up the top of the Empire State Building or up a mountain or whatever? And there's always that bit when the baddie slips off and the hero tries to save him, but, like, the sleeve of this jacket tears off and goes over and you hear him all the way down. Aaaaaaaaagh. That's what I want to do.' 'You want to watch me plunge to my doom.' 'I'd like to know that I've made the effort. I want to show people the torn sleeve.”

“That night, before bed, he goes first to Willem's side of the closet, which he has still not emptied. Here are Willem's shirts on their hangers, and his sweaters on their shelves, and his shoes lined up beneath. He takes down the shirt he needs, a burgundy plaid woven through with threads of yellow, which Willem used to wear around the house in the springtime, and shrugs it on over his head. But instead of putting his arms through its sleeves, he ties the sleeves in front of him, which makes the shirt look like a straitjacket, but which he can pretend—if he concentrates—are Willem's arms in an embrace around him. He climbs into bed. This ritual embarrasses and shames him, but he only does it when he really needs it, and tonight he really needs it.”