Steps Not Counting Quotes & Sayings

So when you're nervous, you count?"
"Not just when I'm nervous," I said. "It's ... all the time. I count the seconds during pauses in conversations. I count the minutes when I'm waiting on something. Sometimes, when I'm kind of panicked or anxious, I count my heartbeats. Something about counting makes me feel like ... like I have the power. Like knowing how much time has passed or how many steps I've taken from one place to another will somehow keep me in control of the situation. — Kody Keplinger

I'm counting on that," Mila murmurs as she steps away. "I just need some time Pax; time for you to show that you are serious about this, about putting the work in. That's all I need. — Courtney Cole

I hope the story of 2011 is that America gets its mojo back. You've got to remember that America has the best universities; it's got some of the best businesses. It's got an unbelievable work ethic, rule of law. The story of 2011 will be America blossoming again. — Jamie Dimon

Yes, these are the thoughts that occupy my brain on a daily basis: How many steps to take. How many hairbrush strokes. Making sure I line up my proofreading pens just so. Making sure my make-up is just so. Sitting in my fucking desk chair just so. It's exhausting living a "just so" life. And I don't want to do it, but the idea of not counting, not arranging, not tic-ing sends my heart reeling with anxiety. — S. Walden

In a way, Strandbeests have turned into migration animals, and the step counter gives them an idea of where they are. While counting their steps, they know more or less where they are between Kijkduin and Scheveningen. — Theo Jansen

They would reach their destinations sooner and merely by sitting down. I would reach my destination later and merely by counting my steps, but someday I would sit down and console myself that we both had reached our destinations, and this was all that mattered. — Legson Kayira

Kane..." she hesitated. "I lied to you last night."
His green eyes searched her face. "What did you lie about?"
"When I said... when I said I didn't want to kiss you again." Her breath came out in an unsteady puff. "I lied. — Elle Kennedy

I choose you, James Thomas Kellan MacCrae,to be my king and coruler. — Carey Corp

Writers tend to work early in the morning, or late at night, when brains are naturally able to focus deeply on one thought. In the middle of the day, distractions are unavoidable. I wonder if anything worthwhile has ever been written in the afternoon. — Scott Adams

Show the readers everything, tell them nothing. — Ernest Hemingway,

I do a lot of counting. Cigarette butts, trees, fence slats, clouds, or the number of paving stones between one phone pole and the next, the windows along the way to the bus stop in the morning, the pedestrians I see from the bus between one stop and the next, red ties on an afternoon in the city. How many steps from the office to the factory gate. I count to keep the world in order, I said. Paul — Herta Muller

In dancing with the enemy one follows his steps even if counting under one's breath. — Breyten Breytenbach

Every time people force themselves to carry on with a book they're not enjoying, they reinforce the idea that reading is a duty. — Nick Hornby

I kept the fingers of my left hand crossed all the time, while on my right-hand fingers I counted anything at all - steps to the refrigerator, seconds on the clock, words in a sentence - to keep my head occupied. The counting felt like something to hang on to, as if finding the right numbers might somehow crack the code on whatever system ran the slippery universe we were moving through. — Mary Karr

Why does my brain insist on counting the steps every time I walk up a flight of stairs? I just can't help myself. There's something about my mind that always wants to keep counting. — Rachel Nichols

As each wave of technology is released. It must be accompanied by a demand for new skills, new language. Consumers must constantly update their ways of thinking, always questioning their understanding of the world. Going back to old ways, old technology is forbidden. There in no past, no present, only an endless future of inadequacy — Richard Kadrey

Do you remember," he said, "one of Holmes's little scores over Watson about the number of steps up to the Baker Street lodging? Poor old Watson had been up and down them a thousand times, but he had never thought of counting them, whereas Holmes had counted them as a matter of course, and knew that there were seventeen. And that was supposed to be the difference between observation and non-observation. Watson was crushed again, and Holmes appeared to him more amazing than ever. Now, it always seemed to me that in that matter Holmes was the ass, and Watson the sensible person. What on earth is the point of keeping in your head an unnecessary fact like that? If you really want to know at any time the number of steps to your lodging, you can ring up your landlady and ask her. — A.A. Milne

The trip I made to Angola to study the prehistoric contents of the gravel beds as a means of deciding the age of the deposits and their economic potential was the first time prehistory had ever been used for such a purpose. — Louis Leakey

Not counting 'Small Steps,' I think 'Holes' is my best book, in terms of plot, and setting, and the way the story revealed itself. It hasn't changed my life, other than that I have more money than I did before I wrote it. I'm still too close to 'Small Steps' to compare it to 'Holes.' — Louis Sachar

He seemed to be having trouble remembering the steps, for he was pumping my arm and counting under his breath (one, two, three), and his breath smelled like the open maws of the pub cellars that grapes on Whitchurch pavements on delivery day. Beer. — Lorna Sage

All's ringing, roaring, grinding, breakers' crash -
and silence all at once, release:
it means he is tiptoeing over pine needles,
so as not to startle the light sleep of space.
And it means he is counting the grains
in the blasted ears; it means
he has come again to the Daryal Gorge,
accursed and black, from another funeral.
And again Moscow, where the heart's fever burns.
Far off the deadly sleighbell chimes,
someone is lost two steps from home
in waist-high snow. The worst of times ... — Anna Akhmatova

Felix," he whispered. "Oh, little man. Oh, Felix. That fire ... the fire is
beautiful. — T.J. Klune

When I first came to New York everybody on the scene would treat me like I could play, but I couldn't. — Wynton Marsalis