Counting Down With You Quotes & Sayings

Ssh, I'm counting." Travis watched me for a moment, and then leaned down to kiss my neck. "I can't concentrate while you're doing tha ... — Jamie McGuire

If I were doing a real rock show, slapping the phone book in time to the music, grooving with the songs, then it would matter to know how I felt about what I was playing. You can't fake it in that situation. But I'm just counting them down as they appear on the chart, 1 through 40. What really matters is what I say between the songs. — Casey Kasem

In the old house in Miami, I'd wake with the feeling of a hand on my chest, my eyes open to the murky blue half-light of my bedroom. Everything quiet, though still feeling noise all around me, though my ears, behind my eyes, under my skin.

In the cottage, I fall asleep slowly, counting the sounds of the night animals - crickets, frogs, squealing raccoons, a cat in heat somewhere beyond the coco plum trees.

But mine is still a loneliness that shakes me from my sleep.

I can forget my solitude all day, through my working hours, through errands, the evening housecleaning ritual I've made up for the cottage.

Yet night remains a tomb, when I'm most vulnerable, lying down for rest without distraction.

Only this body and that darkness, the whispers of the never-ending noche:

You belong to no one. No one belongs to you. — Patricia Engel

We stand at the intersection of extreme privilege and extreme poverty, and we have a question to answer: Do I care? Am I moved by the suffering of all nations? Am I even concerned about the homeless guy on the corner? Am I willing to take the Bible at face value and concur that God is obsessed with social justice? I won't answer one day for how the US government spent billions of dollars on the war in Iraq ($816 billion and counting, when $9 billion would solve the planet's water crisis[36]), nor will I get the credit for the general philanthropy of others. It will come down to what I did. What you did. What we did together. — Jen Hatmaker

Why? Because we're very well down this process as it is - flawed as it is - and we're counting on getting more power plants on line by the end of 2003 so we have a surplus of power. — Gray Davis

In the camp, this meant committing my verse-many thousands of lines-to memory. To help me with this I improvised decimal counting beads and, in transit prisons, broke up matchsticks and used the fragments as tallies. As I approached the end of my sentences I grew more confident of my powers of memory, and began writing down and memorizing prose-dialogue at first, but then, bit by bit, whole densely written passages. My memory found room for them! It worked. But more and more of my time-in the end as much as one week every month-went into the regular repetition of all I had memorized. — Aleksandr Solzhenitsyn

You'll marry me, my dragon, and you'll bear my children, and you'll drive me mad and live in that ramshackle old house with me and I'll even put up with the occasional visit from your sister if
I must. But you'll marry me. Not because you have to. But because I won't let you go."
"Why?" she demanded.
And he answered the only way he could, in French. "Je't'aime," he said. "I love you."
"Je't'aime aussi," she said. "And I will make your life a living hell," she added in the same language.
He smiled down at her. "I'm counting on it. — Anne Stuart

And as for what I've learned: be an instrument of peace. Be a gentleman at all costs. Enjoy yourself - have fun with your existence. Learn to listen to your inner voice and don't overdose on yourself. Keep your darkness in check. Let music be a healing force. Be a real musician: once you start counting money before notes, you're a full-time wannabe. Put your guitar down and go outside and take a long drink of light with your eyes. Go walk in the park and take off your shoes and socks and feel the grass under your feet and mud between your toes. Go see a baby smiling, go see a wino crawling, go see life. Feel life - all of it, as much as possible. Find a human melody, then write a song about it. Make it all come through your music. — Carlos Santana

Cam looked away, laughing under his breath. "Okay. How about Wednesday?"
"This Wednesday?"
"Nope."
"The following Wednesday?"
"Yep."
Counting the days down, I ended up frowning. "Wait. That's the Wednesday before Thanksgiving."
"It is."
I stared at him. "Cam, arn't you going home?"
"I am."
"When? After the movies, in the middle of the night, or Thanksgiving morning?"
He shook his head. "See, the drive-in movie theater is just outside of my hometown. About ten miles out."
I leaned back against the couch, confused."I don't understand."
Cam finished the hot chocolate and twisted toward me. He scooted over so only a handful of inches seperated us. "If you go on this date with me, you're going to have to go home with me. — J. Lynn

I had read four thousand pages of letters by Lawrence and I wanted thousands of pages more... I wanted them not to end. And yet, at the same time that I was wishing they would not come to an end, I was hurrying through these books because however much you are enjoying a book, however much you want it never to end, you are always eager for it to end. However much you are enjoying a book you are always flicking to the end, counting to see how many pages are left, looking forward to the time when you can put the book down and have done with it. At the back of our minds, however much we are enjoying a book, we come to the end of it and some little voice is always saying, "Thank Christ for that! — Geoff Dyer

If you want something done, ask. If you want something done quickly, ask, and then begin counting down from ten with no explanation. — Mahatma Gandhi

no matter how hard I try to stamp it down, part of me is picturing Sophie's guy cracking the password and coming up with both hands full of pics of Aislinn riding Cueball Lanigan, with Breslin counting cash in the background. "Let — Tana French

My mother sings One day at a time sweet Jesus, and even Daddy likes to say that, one day at a time, as if it's some strategy for living. And yet the quickest way to not live at all is to take life one day at a time. It's the way I've discovered to not do a damn thing. If you can break a day down into quarters, then hours, then half hours, then minutes, you can chew down any stretch of time to bite size. It's like dealing with losing a man. If you can bear it for one minute, then you can swallow two, then five, then another five and on and on. If I don't want to think about my life, I don't have to think about life at all, just hold for one minute, then two, then five, then another five, before you know it, a month can pass and you don't even notice because you've only been counting minutes. — Marlon James

One night, after hours, you are alone and running your hands under the hot water when the voice asks if you aren't through with your ablutions yet. You do not know the word but write it down to look it up the next day. You learn its definition on page 3 of Merriam-Webster's Collegiate Dictionary: "The washing of one's body or part of it (as in a religious rite)." You are certain you have never heard this word before as you were raised without any religion and have never set foot inside any church or temple, and you return the dictionary to the shelf and vow never to play this game of counting your wounds again. — Patrick DeWitt

We'll take care of the cooking, Gram, so you can relax." When he and Cat both looked at her, Emma blushed. "Okay, fine. Sean will take care of the grilling so you can relax."
"I was counting on it. And, Sean, why don't you sit down and help us settle on a wedding date."
"I told Emma to tell me when to be there and I'd be there."
"Nonsense. Sit down."
He'd rather be dipped in barbecue sauce and dropped in the desert, but he sat. One more week and it would be over.
Then he wouldn't have to think about Emma anymore. Not think about marrying her or having babies with her or holding her in his arms at night. He'd be gone and she'd be some funny story his brothers brought up sitting around the fire knocking back beer.
"Really, Sean, are you okay?" Cat asked him, putting her hand on his arm.
He realized he'd been rubbing his chest, and he forced himself to lean forward and prop his arms on the table so he wouldn't do it again. "I'm fine. Let's pick a date. — Shannon Stacey

There's no telling how far down it goes," the captain says, the left side of his mustache twitching like the tail of a rat. "Fall into that unknowable abyss, and you'll be counting the days before you reach bottom. — Neal Shusterman

MURRY: It's not that, it's just ... I don't really get it. I usually find myself staring at the midnight deadline filled with regrets both for opportunities and loved ones missed. It's another day closer to the end. The last thing I feel like doing is counting down to some wild celebration. It just seems so sad to say goodbye to a year and know that it's gone forever and you can't go back to it. Not to relive, not to correct.
NOEL: I've never thought about it that way.
MURRY: There's something so final about it. It's the period at the end of the sentence.
NOEL: The New Year's resolution. — Hillary DePiano

They didn't tell me I was going into space until after they locked the shuttle doors and started counting down. — Buzz Aldrin

And there I was with the stars hanging above my house like live wiresand the night sky the color of stockings.I stuck out my tongue to taste the skybut could not taste.I inhaled deeplybut could not smell.I used to look to the sky for comfortand now there was nothing, not even a seam,and I looked down and saw that it did not even reach the ground.And my only company was the satellites counting their sleep — Matthew Rohrer

We drove down Corydon avenue towards my mother's apartment. How are you doing, she asked me? Fine, fine, I said. I wanted to tell her that I felt I was dying from rage and that I felt guilty about everything and that when I was a kid I woke up every morning singing, that I couldn't wait to leap out of bed and rush out of the house into the magical kingdom that was my world, that dust made visible in sunbeams gave me real authentic joy, that my sparkly golden banana-seated bike with the very high sissy bar took my breath away, the majesty of it, that it was mine, that there was no freer soul in the world than me at age nine, and that now I wake up every morning reminding myself that control is an illusion, taking deep breaths and counting to ten trying to ward off panic attacks and hoping that my own hands hadn't managed to strangle me while I slept. — Miriam Toews

If one of the luminaries should condescend, then the homely lover, plain of face, knows damn well to choose some modest number, and then begin counting down the days of love. Beauty seeks after beauty, like goes with like; forever this was the way of things, world without end. — Kai Ashante Wilson

Her hand lay on my stomach, precisely six inches from the top of my straining dick. I knew this because exactly once every sixty seconds I looked away from the screen to make sure it hadn't ripped a hole through my pants. Then I'd start counting down again, because the counting was the only thing keeping me from rolling her over and shoving my cock so far up her cunt it hit the back of her throat. — Joanna Wylde