Zitat des Tages über Waschen / Washing:
Of course voting is useful. But then again, I don't put a big glow to it. Voting is about as essential as washing yourself. It's something you're supposed to do. Now, you can't go around bragging, expecting to get props because you voted. That's stupid.
If I wasn't writing poems I'd be washing my hands all the time.
I was the youngest. The yule lamb. The one who always got away without doing the washing up. My sister was four years older, and my brother six years.
When Paul was exhorted to be baptized and to wash away his sins, there was an evident allusion to the use of water in the ordinance of baptism, and had there been no application of water on which to ground such an allusion, we may be certain that we should never have heard of washing away sins in baptism.
I love driving cars, looking at them, cleaning and washing and shining them. I clean 'em inside and outside. I'm very touchy about cars. I don't want anybody leaning on them or closing the door too hard, know what I mean?
I came home every Friday afternoon, riding the six miles on the back of a big mule. I spent Saturday and Sunday washing and ironing and cooking for the children and went back to my country school on Sunday afternoon.
The best way to achieve a great style without a blow-dryer is, after washing your hair, take a towel and flip your head upside down, wrapping it up in a twisted towel for 15 minutes. Once you take it down, a lot of the excess water will have been absorbed by the towel.
I've had an ambition to be somebody since I was 13 years old because I wanted to help my family. I wanted to hurry and grow up so I could make enough money to buy my father a big car and my mother a beautiful home with an electric washing machine and all those things she used to see in the newspapers.
I'm big about washing my face before I go to bed, washing it when I wake up in the morning, getting good sleep and drinking a lot of water. Those are just easy things that you can do for your skin.
Myself and my two younger sisters and brother were paid for any chores, whether it was washing pop's car, sweeping the lawn or picking mangoes.
When the International Trade Centre, the agency I head, works with German electronics giant Bosch to help Kenyan food processing companies boost their productivity and export competitiveness, we may well be creating future customers for Bosch washing machines.
But there's so much kludge, so much terrible stuff, we are at the 1908 Hurley washing machine stage with the Internet. That's where we are. We don't get our hair caught in it, but that's the level of primitiveness of where we are. We're in 1908.
My days are spent wrangling children, chipping dried manure from boots, washing jeans, and frying calf nuts.
In a way it was like washing your laundry in public and, yep, there you go, you've seen my underwear. And now I feel like there's nothing left, you've seen it all and I can get on.
I don't have a dishwasher, and I hate washing dishes.
The series of photographic operations, developing, washing, final drying, takes about quarter of an hour.
These songs are old friends I have entertained myself with when I'm washing the dishes, driving to the store and walking down the aisles. The ones that you sing when you're driving in the car and as a singer you always go back to them.
I was 18 when I first started working at a restaurant. I was a dishwasher. I only got the job because I wanted to go to Ibiza for vacation, and washing dishes was the only job I could find.
Often, when you see yourself on the screen, you feel like a sweater that's been put through the washing machine. You have the impression of having done something full and luminous, and suddenly, when you see it on the screen, it's turned back into a tiny little thing.
When I came to New York and I opened the window of the thirty-fifth-floor apartment, there's light pollution and fog, and I couldn't see my star. So I drew it on my wrist with a pen, but it kept washing away. Then I went to a tattoo parlor on Second Avenue and had it done.
Why do otherwise sane, competent, strong men, men who can wrestle bears or raid corporations, shrink away in horror at the thought of washing a dish or changing a diaper?
I'm really trying to respond to the foods that are in the stores and just pulling the things that are the very best and cook what looks beautiful and is seasonal. That's the way to go. I love going to the grocery store and the market. None of it's drudgery for me. Washing dishes is the drudgery.
Truth, like gold, is to be obtained not by its growth, but by washing away from it all that is not gold.
I'm looking forward to getting back to my house and my Ugg boots and not washing sometimes, and getting back to writing.
I visited those friends who'd just had a baby, and she was washing dishes and he was cleaning the house, and I burst with happiness. And in their minds, they were in this terrible domestic rut.
At the end of the day, I have to wash my face. I hate going to bed after a long day not washing my face. It's something I've grown into. When I was younger, I didn't care.
The hair department is always on my case about washing my hair. I am incredibly lazy, and a brat about washing my hair.
The purpose of art is washing the dust of daily life off our souls.
I have so much residue crap in my hair from years and years of not washing it and not having any sense of personal hygiene whatsoever. Even today, I go into these things where I'm supposed to be this sexy guy or whatever, and I'm literally asking, 'If I get plumes of dandruff on me, can you just brush it off?'
When I was growing up, hand washing was a ritual, but now it's a necessity. A child dies every 15 seconds from preventable causes, which has got to stop.
Bloody Christmas, here again, let us raise a loving cup, peace on earth, goodwill to men, and make them do the washing up.
You spend five months filming in outer space and saving the world, and suddenly that kind of family unit and story disappears, and you come crashing back down to Earth, and you have to do your own washing... and most actors are insecure that the last job they did will be their last job ever.
One of my most vivid memories of the mid-1950s is of crying into a washbasin full of soapy grey baby clothes - there were no washing machines - while my handsome and adored husband was off playing football in the park on Sunday morning with all the delightful young men who had been friends to both of us at Cambridge three years earlier.
I go through cycles with my writing. I have cycles where I'm up all night and lose track of time, and then I go for months without a thing to write about. My song 'So Good, So Right' came to me while I was washing dishes after a dinner party.
If I walked into the kitchen without washing my hands as a kid, I'd hear a loud 'A-hem!' from my mother or grandmother. Now I count on other people to do the same.
I am not a huge follower of music and tend to like one CD and play it to death, usually when I am washing up.