Walk In Her Shoes Quotes & Sayings

Christianity is not a set of teachings to understand. It is a Person to follow. As he walked with Jesus, Andrew watched Jesus heal the sick, teach God's wisdom, and demonstrate God's power. Andrew not only learned about God; he actually experienced Him! Moments will come when you stand at a crossroads with your Lord. You will have a hundred questions for Him. Rather than answering the questions one by one, Jesus may say, "Put on your shoes, step out onto the road, and follow Me." As you walk daily with Him, Jesus will answer your questions, and you will discover far more than you even knew to ask. — Henry T. Blackaby

I like to get one pair of shoes and wear them till they're dirty. Besides, I don't walk - I glide, like butter. Float like a vampire. I'm like Louis Vuitton, but smoother. He wishes he were like me. — Kid Cudi

Whenever I'd try to talk myself out of going for a walk, and there were a few days like that, I'd take myself through a series of simple tasks so I would get up and go. 1. Get up. 2. Find your house keys. 3. Put on some shoes. 4. Grab your iPod. 5. Walk out the front door. — Jennifer Hudson

I'll never forget my high school acting teacher, Anthony Abeson, who said, "It starts with the shoes." When I think about a character, it does start with the shoes: What kind would she wear? How would she walk in them? If I'm going to put on a dress for a role - I don't care if it's the hardest dress to put on - I have to put the shoes on first. The physicality leads me to the character. — Jennifer Aniston

You can never walk a mile in someone elses shoes, but you can walk a mile in your own and be proud of it. — Zach Anner

Religion - religion, at best - at BEST - is like a lift in your shoe. If you need it for a while, and it makes you walk straight and feel better - fine. But you don't need it forever, or you can become permanently disabled. Religion is like a lift in the shoe, and I say just don't ask me to wear your shoes. And let's not go down and nail lifts onto the natives' feet. — George Carlin

Nick was waiting for him.
Gabriel hesitated. He wished those text messages had come with some kind of sign, whether Nick was pissed or exasperated or just completely done with him. Hell, a freaking emoticon would have been helpful.
His own room sat pitch-dark at the opposite end of the hallway. A black hole. Gabriel eased around the creaky spot in the floor and slid past his twin's room. Once in his own, he flung his duffel bag onto the ground and shut the door, closing the dark around himself. He sighed and kicked his shoes into the well of blackness under the bed. Maybe Nick hadn't heard him. Maybe he thought he was still out in the car.
"You are so predictable."
Gabriel swore and fumbled for the light switch.
Nick was straddling his desk chair backward, his arms folded on the backrest.
"What the hell is wrong with you?" Gabriel snapped. "Why are you sitting here in the dark?"
His twin shrugged. Because I knew you'd walk right past my room. — Brigid Kemmerer

You can't tell stories and really walk in someone's shoes and not have a love for them, even if they're doing horrible things. — Shonda Rhimes

I just kick off my shoes, walk around barefoot, I don't care if my feet get dirty. — Christina Aguilera

The moral of the story, Son," Pun would say, "is Don't take more on your heart than you can shake off on your heels."
Of all lessons, that one I never learned and I hope I never do. My heart daily grows new foliage, always adding people, picking up new heartaches like a wool coat collects cockleburs and beggar's-lice seeds. It gets fuller and fuller as I walk slow as a sloth, carrying all the pain Pun and Frank and so many others tried to walk from. Especially the pain of the lost forest. Sometimes there is no leaving, no looking westward for another promised land. We have to nail our shoes to the kitchen floor and unload the burden of our heart. We have to set to the task of repairing the damage done by and to us. — Janisse Ray

What if she doesn't worry about her body and eats enough for all the growing she has to do? She might rip her stockings and slam-dance on a forged ID to the Pogues, and walk home barefoot, holding her shoes, alone at dawn; she might baby-sit in a battered-women's shelter one night a month; she might skateboard down Lombard Street with its seven hairpin turns, or fall in love with her best friend and do something about it, or lose herself for hours gazing into test tubes with her hair a mess, or climb a promontory with the girls and get drunk at the top, or sit down when the Pledge of Allegiance says stand, or hop a freight train, or take lovers without telling her last name, or run away to sea. She might revel in all the freedoms that seem so trivial to those who could take them for granted; she might dream seriously the dreams that seem to obvious to those who grew up with them really available. Who knows what she would do? Who knows what it would feel like? — Naomi Wolf

The materialist theory of history, that all politics and ethics are the expression of economics, is a very simple fallacy indeed. It consists simply of confusing the necessary conditions of life with the normal preoccupations of life, that are quite a different thing. It is like saying that because a man can only walk about on two legs, therefore he never walks about except to buy shoes and stockings. — G.K. Chesterton

There is nothing charming about a woman who cannot walk in her shoes. — Manolo Blahnik

Virtual reality is the 'ultimate empathy machine.' These experiences are more than documentaries. They're opportunities to walk a mile in someone else's shoes. — Chris Milk

My dream is to walk around the world. A smallish backpack, all essentials neatly in place. A camera. A notebook. A traveling paint set. A hat. Good shoes. A nice pleated (green?) skirt for the occasional seaside hotel afternoon dance. — Maira Kalman

I inhale slowly, soaking it all in. I step forward and backward, my neck twisting and turning, memorizing every corner. I feel an instant connection to this place. Something about being here grabs me and infatuates me. I begin taking mental pictures of the narrow alleys decorated with rows of artists and vendors. I start imagining myself dining at the sidewalk cafes, sitting there with Chad during the summer, spring, winter, and fall. I get this strong desire to take off my shoes and walk barefooted on the cobblestones as if I have found my new home. — Corey M.P.

Mary got pregnant from a kid named Tom
Who said he was in love
He said 'Don't worry about a thing, baby doll
I'm the man you've been dreaming of,'
But three months later
He said he won't date her or return her call
And she sweared 'God damn, if I find that man
I'm cutting off his balls,'
And then she heads for the clinic
And she gets some static walking through the doors
They call her a killer, and they call her a sinner
And they call her a whore

God forbid you ever had to walk a mile in her shoes
Cause then you really might know what it's like to have to choose — Everlast

Few people know how to take a walk. The qualifications are endurance, plain clothes, old shoes, an eye for nature, good humor, vast curiosity, good speech, good silence and nothing too much. — Ralph Waldo Emerson

You shouldn't judge someone until you've walk a mile through an underground tunnel in her uncomfortable shoes — Ally Carter

In fiction, when you paint yourself into a corner, you can write a pair of suction cups onto the bottoms of your shoes and walk up the wall and out the skylight and see the sun breaking through the clouds. In nonfiction, you don't have that luxury. — Tom Robbins

Buyers decide in the first eight seconds of seeing a home if they're interested in buying it. Get out of your car, walk in their shoes and see what they see within the first eight seconds. — Barbara Corcoran

Dear God,
Reveal to me through stories something of what it is like to walk around in someone else's shoes.
Show me something about myself in the stories I read, something that needs changing, a thought, a feeling or attitude.
Deliver me from myself, O God, and from the parachial and sometimes prejudiced views I have of other people, other nations, other races, other religions.
Enlarge by heart with a story, and change me by the characters I meet there.
May some of the light from their lives spill over into mine, giving me illumination where there was once ignorance, compassion where there was once contempt. — Ken Gire

Every time we walk along a beach some ancient urge disturbs us so that we find ourselves shedding shoes and garments or scavenging among seaweed and whitened timbers like the homesick refugees of a long war. — Loren Eiseley

Before you can walk a mile in someone else's shoes, You first have to put them on ... — Timothy W. Tron

I will craft shoes that will make her want to walk on and on. — Makoto Shinkai

You damn fool!" one of the men grated in angry concern as they both squatted down on their haunches and peered anxiously at her. "What the hell do you think you're doing?"
Bracing herself on her forearms, Lauren lifted her chagrined gaze from the man's shoes to his face. "Auditioning for the circus," she told him dryly, "And for an encore, I usually fall off a bridge."
A rich chuckle sounded from the other man as he took her firmly by the shoulders and helped her to her feet. "What's your name?" he asked, and when Lauren had told him,he added worriedly, "Can you walk?"
"For miles," Laruen assured him unsteadily. Every muscle in her body was protesting, and her left ankle was throbbing painfully.
"Then I guess you can make it as far as the building so we can have a look at the damage," he said with a smile in his voice. — Judith McNaught

It's what they say to do when you're depressed, you know. Walk in someone else's shoes for a while, and your own won't feel so tight. — Phyllis Reynolds Naylor

This is no help," Debs said. "If it's not her blood in there, then ... who the hell flings somebody else's blood on the wall?" "A kidnapper," Special Agent Recht said. "Trying to cover his tracks." Deborah turned and looked at her, and the expression on her face was truly wonderful to see. With just a few rearranged facial muscles and one small raised eyebrow, Debs managed to say, How is it possible that someone this stupid can tie her own shoes and walk among us? — Jeff Lindsay

All she really wanted was to go to her apartment, to her bedroom, to the back of her walk-in closet, to sit among the shoes. — Elizabeth McCracken

When we were lovers in high school," he began and she knew who he meant by we, "it was my job to undress him many nights, but his clothes must be folded neatly, precisely, reverently, and then placed on a chair. No mess, no wrinkles. But he ... he would strip me naked and drop all my clothes onto the floor. Then he'd walk on them. Not barefoot, either. With his shoes on most of the time. And you know what?" Kingsley asked as he stepped closer to her, close enough she could kiss him if she wanted to. "What?" "I worshipped him for it." Kingsley smiled at her, a Mona Lisa smile that hinted of secrets but didn't reveal them. — Tiffany Reisz

That was the old Ellen Gulden, the girl who would walk over her mother in golf shoes, who scared students away from writing seminars, who started work on Monday after graduating from Harvard with honors on a Thursday, who loved the moments in the office when she would look out at the impenetrable black of the East River, starred with the reflected lights of Queens, with only the cleaning crew for company, and think of her various superiors out at dinner parties and restaurants and her various similars out at downtown clubs or cheap but authentic places in Chinatown and say to herself, 'I'm getting ahead.' That Ellen Gulden, the one her boss suspected of using the dying-mother ploy to get more money or a better job title, would have covered every inch of [this datebook] with the frantic scribble of unexamined ambition. — Anna Quindlen

The best way to get to know the place you are traveling in is to walk around ... and the best way to walk around is with comfortable shoes! Grab your travel buddy and your running shoes and go explore! — Laura Marano

To walk in the footsteps of the great, put on their shoes. — Matshona Dhliwayo

But all three of them had had to lose things in order to gain other things. Will had lost his shell and his cool and his distance, and he felt scared and vulnerable, but he got to be with Rachel; and Fiona had lost a big chunk of Marcus, and she got to stay away from the casualty ward; and Marcus had lost himself, and got to walk home from school with his shoes on. — Nick Hornby

Welcome to the real world of marriage, where hairs are always on the sink and little white spots cover the mirror, where arguments center on which way the toilet paper comes off and whether the lid should be up or down. It is a world where shoes do not walk to the closet and drawers do not close themselves, where coats do not like hangers and socks go AWOL during laundry. In this world, a look can hurt and a word can crush. Intimate lovers can become enemies, and marriage a battlefield. — Gary Chapman

As Jack Handey advised in one of his "Deep Thoughts" on Saturday Night Live, before you criticize people, you should walk a mile in their shoes. That way, when you criticize them, you're a mile away and you have their shoes. — Adam M. Grant

Now, in every city into which I venture, uniforms rush upon me, dust dandruff from my collar, press a brochure into my hand, recite the latest weather report, pray for my soul, throw walk-shields over nearby puddles, wipe off my windshield, hold an umbrella over my head on sunny or rainy days, or shine an ultra-infra flashlight before me on cloudy ones, pick lint from my belly-button, scrub my back, shave my neck, zip up my fly, shine my shoes and smile - all before I can protest - right hand held at waist-level. What a goddamn happy place the universe would be if everyone wore uniforms that glinted and crinkled. Then we'd all have to smile at each other. — Roger Zelazny

THEO: You should walk a fucking mile before you judge a situation. You should put yourself in someone else's shoes before you blame, or judge, or pity. It takes a long time to wear down someone's confidence, and it takes much more strength of will to walk away than it does to take another punch. — Con Riley

I always wear flat shoes, because I can't walk in anything else. — Sadie Frost

I feel for all the parents whose babies just keep waking up for years. My heart and back go out to you guys! You are my heroes, and I am not fit to walk in your shoes! — Constance Marie

Through her voice I saw a free woman, down on her land, a woman who knew how to kill her own chickens, hunt her own possum, cut her own cotton, fix her own roof, make her own whiskey, walk in her own shoes, and speak her mind, tell her own story.

A black woman.
Ready for the journey.
The Journey. — Bonnie Greer

The best treatment for feet encased in shoes all day is to go barefoot. One-fifth of the world's population never wears shoes - ever! But when people who usually go barefoot usually wear shoes, their feet begin to suffer. As often as possible, walk barefoot on the beach, in your yard, or at least around the house. Walking in the grass or sand massages your feet, strengthens your muscles and feels very relaxing ... If you can cut back on wearing shoes by 30 percent, you will save wear and tear on your feet and extend the life of your shoes. — Stephanie Tourles

Before you criticize a man, walk a mile in his shoes. That way, when you do criticize him, you'll be a mile away and have his shoes. — Steve Martin

If you want to marry me, here's what you'll have to do:
You must learn how to make a perfect chicken-dumpling stew.
And you must sew my holey socks,
And soothe my troubled mind,
And develop the knack for scratching my back,
And keep my shoes spotlessly shined.
And while I rest you must rake up the leaves,
And when it is hailing and snowing
You must shovel the walk ... and be still when I talk,
And-hey-where are you going? — Shel Silverstein

What causes homophobia? What is it that makes the heterosexual man worry about this? I think it's because deep down all men know that we have weak sales resistance. We're constantly buying shoes that hurt us, pants that don't fit right. Men think, 'Obviously I can be talked into anything. What if I accidentally wander into some sort of homosexual store thinking it's a shoe store and the salesmen says, 'Just hold this guy's hand, walk around a little bit, see how it feels. No obligation, no pressure, just try it.' — Jerry Seinfeld

I do not understand how you humans can walk in shoes that are that tall."
"Its my motto," said Isabelle, with a sultry smile. "Nothing less than seven inches. — Cassandra Clare

If you have a pair of shoes that hurt, don't wear them. The ugliest thing that I think I've seen is a woman walk like her feet hurt. It's awful, so make sure your shoes fit. — Kelly Rowland

I suggest that people walk around under the moon barefoot, as I have today. There's that voice of your mom and dad and aunt and big sister and uncle and annoying cousin in your ear saying "Your feet are going to get dirty and you're going to turn into a bat" so the defiance in the act of simply taking your shoes off and standing there under that moon - is astronomical. A dirty-feet-moonlit-defiance that will make you smile. — C. JoyBell C.

You can't really get to know a person until you get in their shoes and walk around in them. — Harper Lee

We walk the same path, but got on different shoes, live in the same building, but we got different views — Drake

I ... He bit his tongue before he blurted out that he did love her, that he'd only bought her the jacket because it pained him to see her uncomfortable. I would walk through the fires of hell to get you a pair of shoes.. But he could never tell her that. — Sherrilyn Kenyon

Our father came to sleep in our house that night. He carried a small suitcase with a black mourning suit and a pair of polished shoes. Corrigan stopped him as he made his way up the stairs. 'Where d'you think you're going?'Our father gripped the bannister. His hands were liverspotted and I could see him trembling in his pause. 'That's not your room,' sad Corrigan. Our father tottered on the stairs. He took another step up. 'Don't,' said my brother. His voice was clear, full, confidant. Our father stood stunned. He climbed one more step and then turned, descended, looked around, lost.
'My own sons,' he said.
We made a bed for him on a sofa in the living room, but even then Corrigan refused to stay under the same roof; he went walking in the direction of the city center and I wondered what alley he might be found in later that night, what fist he might walk into, whose bottle he might climb down inside. — Colum McCann