Shirt It Is Well With My Soul Quotes & Sayings

I may not have any skeletons in my closet, but I do have a little box of souls in my sock drawer. - T-SHIRT — Darynda Jones

The seamstress
With fingers weary and worn,
And eyelids heavy and red,
Long after the house sleeps,
Still in her chair she sits.
Her needle flickering, in-out,
Daylight nears and the fire burns low,
Alone with her shirt, still she sews.
She, held prisoner by her thread,
Her heads nods, but sleep forbids,
Just one more seam or button two.
Listen brothers, sons and husbands all,
Call it not just cotton, linen or only wool,
Count each stitch and say a prayer,
For heart and soul that put them there. — Nancy B. Brewer

A beautiful person is not defined by a hair style, a pair of shoes, it's not the logos on the T-shirt, the sport's team on a hat, the designer's name on a hand bag, or even how you smell.

Instead, beauty lies in who you are when no one is watching, the person you are when there's nothing to hide behind. No amount of concealer can cover up a cantankerous heart, but all the make-up in the world can't add a single lumen to the brightness of a beautiful soul. — Justin Young

You start out giving your hat, then you give your coat, then your shirt, then your skin and finally your soul. — Charles De Gaulle

Impulsively, she shoved him, but he didn't budge, and the knife in her hand sliced into his shirt. And his skin. Horrified, she was about to apologize when he spun her around and held her with one arm pressed against her throat and a switchblade aimed at her stomach. "I win this point, Jordan. If I was a lost soul, you'd now have a blade in your belly. Do you know why?"
"Because you're a mean son of a bitch? — Trinity Faegen

What was it about this man that one minute had me wanting to throw myself at him, climb him like a cat to rub up against and the next, wanting to scratch his eyes out while I was up there? — Stephanie Hudson

I can't say what made me fall in love with Vietnam - that a woman's voice can drug you; that everything is so intense. The colors, the taste, even the rain. Nothing like the filthy rain in London. They say whatever you're looking for, you will find here. They say you come to Vietnam and you understand a lot in a few minutes, but the rest has got to be lived. The smell: that's the first thing that hits you, promising everything in exchange for your soul. And the heat. Your shirt is straightaway a rag. You can hardly remember your name, or what you came to escape from. But at night, there's a breeze. The river is beautiful. You could be forgiven for thinking there was no war; that the gunshots were fireworks; that only pleasure matters. A pipe of opium, or the touch of a girl who might tell you she loves you. And then, something happens, as you knew it would. And nothing can ever be the same again. — Graham Greene

Been there, done that, got the t-shirt.
Sold my soul and yeah, the truth hurts. — Marina Diamandis Marina And The Diamonds

It is telling that the first recorded name in history belongs to an accountant, rather than a prophet, a poet or a great conqueror.1 — Yuval Noah Harari

Do it, Octavian" She ghosted the tips of her fingers along the hem of his shirt. "Touch me."
He growled low in his throat, his forehead dropping another inch toward her shoulder, his hair tickling the side of her face. "Be my angel, Riley, not my siren. Don't tempt me."
Moistening her lips with a sweep of her tongue, Riley glided her fingers over his belt, tracing the strip of leather to the silver buckle in the center. She felt rather than heard his deep inhalation and the tremor that raked his powerful body. Driven by his surrender, she used two fingers to walk over the square carvings etched into his abdomen, biting her lip to stop the grin that pulled when he groaned.
"I want to be both for you, Octavian," she whispered, letting her lips brush the curve of his shoulder. — Airicka Phoenix

You're just not the type that I go for after all. You're not graceful, you're violent, you don't know what sweet means... We'd probably be fighting non-stop, and I don't think it would work out. That's my straight answer. But! I don't hate you, by a long shot. — Naoshi Komi

Hey, Katy!"
I jumped at my name. "Hey, Luc ... "
"Look at what I got." He dug into his bag and pulled out an extraterrestrial highway shirt. "We can be soul twins now."
"That's ... um, really nice. — Jennifer L. Armentrout

I kiss him deeply, desperately, as I paw at his clothes, and he tolerates it for a moment. Just a moment. Long enough for me to unbutton his shirt. In a blink, his hand snatches ahold of my wrists, pinning them together, pinning them down to the bed above my head. Pulling back some, he looks me in the eyes.
He says nothing.
He just stares.
Studying me again.
It's almost a minute, as I count the torturous seconds in my head. It should been awkward, but it isn't. It's erotic. His gaze penetrates me, effectively fucking my soul. — J.M. Darhower

This whole not seeing each other the day of the wedding was Kane's big idea, not Avery's as everyone assumed. Kane had used that damn ruffled shirt to get him to agree they would sleep in separate places last night and not see each other until the ceremony. So, besides the fact Kane had them on a no sex regime for the past two weeks, he hadn't seen his mister for almost twenty-four hours, and that hadn't happened since their first kiss. The time apart wasn't good for his soul or his naturally sunny disposition. — Kindle Alexander

Music is not a fucking soda. It is not a fucking insurance rate. It is not a fucking T-shirt. It is the only real religion that is worth devoting your soul to. It is the last remnant of the primal scream, the funeral dirge, and the wedding march. It is the light that keeps me out of the shadows, and it is the reason my immortal soul is not in dire straits. — Corey Taylor

My soul is like my worn-out Van Gogh t-shirt; threadbare and full of holes — J. Matthew Nespoli

Excellence is not an act, but a habit. — Aristotle.

We need to walk to know sacred places, those around us and those within. We need to walk to remember the songs. — Joseph Bruchac

The newcomer stood well over six feet, as tall as any Warden. His hair was dark, the color of obsidian, and it reflected blue in the dim light. Lazy locks slipped over his forehead and curled just below his ears. Brows arched over golden eyes and his cheekbones were broad and high. He was attractive. Very attractive. Mind-bendingly beautiful, actually, but the sardonic twist to his full lips chilled his beauty. The black T-shirt stretched across his chest and flat stomach. A huge tattoo of a snake curled around his forearm, the tail disappearing under his sleeve and the diamond-shaped head rested on the top of his hand. He looked my age. Total crush material - if it wasn't for the fact that he had no soul. — Jennifer L. Armentrout

I'm pretty sure I locked that door," Daemon growled.
Luc set the box of doughnuts down, and I eyed them like they held the answer to life. "And I'm pretty sure I let myself in. Hey, Katy!"
I jumped at my name. "Hey, Luc.."
"Look at what I got." He dug into his bag and pulled out an extraterrestrial highway shirt. "We can be soul twins now. — Jennifer L. Armentrout

Kizzy wanted it all so bad her soul leaned half out of her body hungering after it, and that was what drove the goblins wild, her soul hanging out there like an untucked shirt. — Laini Taylor

So now you know my eyes are green - because of my shirt? You never looked into my soul to know how much in me is green ... — John Geddes

have to be on the cross and bleeding in order to have soul. They want you half mad, dribbling down your shirt front. I've had enough of the cross, my tank is full of that. If I can stay off the cross, I still have plenty to run on. Too much. Let them get on the cross, I'll congratulate them. But pain doesn't create writing, a writer does. — Charles Bukowski

The trouble is you can't play many matches when you lose them. — Jelena Dokic

The sweetest temptation could be that which was known to be the most foolish. — Piers Anthony

stronger than mountains.
a place where my heart
feels the safest-
underneath his shirt. — Sanober Khan

I stared at Eph, envying the fact that he already had a costume, though whether it was actually qualified as a costume was debatable. He was dressed in all black- black jeans, black knit hat, black boots, long-sleeved, black T-shirt, black thermal on top of it.
"I'm the dark night of the soul. Or a black hole. Or something like that," He'd said when I'd asked him earlier.
"You're copping out," I said.
"How is being in more than one costume copping out? I'm actually so investing in this, I am in an infinite number of costumes. It's meta and crap. — Meg Leder

Arch turned and looked at Ian. The other man was fiddling with the neckline of his shirt. "You're just jealous, Ian, and wishing you had a soul mate of your own. In fact, I don't think any woman will be safe until you get one." Ian shot him an unamused look at his words. — Rose Wynters

There is no error more common than that of thinking that those who are the causes or occasions of great tragedies share in the feelings suitable to the tragic mood: no error more fatal than expecting it of them. The martyr in his 'shirt of flame' may be looking on the face of God, but to him who is piling the faggots or loosening the logs for the blast the whole scene is no more than the slaying of an ox is to the butcher, or the felling of a tree to the charcoal burner in the forest, or the fall of a flower to one who is mowing down the grass with a scythe. Great passions are for the great of soul, and great events can be seen only by those who are on a level with them. — Oscar Wilde

When she smoothed my shirt and stepped back, I said, 'Mama, why do you always look at me like I'm dressed in a fancy suit?' She said, 'Because I see your soul, Leland Keller. Your soul is as a spick- and- span and sharp as a man in his church suit. That's what's important in life. Make sure your soul is dressed right, always in its church clothes. That's the only thing that matters to God' ... — Joey W. Hill