Quotes About Awareness

The best thing I've learned is, if you're going out, never go out alone - you leave yourself vulnerable. If you've got someone else there you trust, they can say, be wary of that person. I probably used to be too trusting of people.

I have always been very wary of what would happen when I die. I feel I would die every day, and that thought sometimes made me more aware that I am alive.

I'm very wary of news on television.

Depression runs in my family on both sides, and I have to be wary.

You've just got to be wary around people. You don't know what they want from you. Just in L.A., people have questionable motives. Everybody's kind of got an angle. You've got to be aware of that.

I'm very wary about giving advice. I think it's very dangerous to give advice to people, except if you know them very well.

I don't think I met an actual Mormon until college, and by that time, I was wary of them. I knew about the church through school and, secondhand, through non-Mormon friends.

When you wash your hands, when you make a cup of coffee, when you're waiting for the elevator - instead of indulging in thinking, these are all opportunities for being there as a still, alert presence.

I was horrified to find out that a startling percentage of women, even in Bengaluru, do not go out or wash their hair during their periods.

I always keep a small timer next to me to tell me how many seconds I have to wash each part of my face.

I counted everything. I counted the steps to the road, the steps up to church, the number of dishes and silverware I washed... anything that could be counted, I did.

I'd lived in Portland on and off for a decade before I'd even heard of Vanport. It was this town of 20,000 people that washed away from north Portland.

There's an unseen force which lets birds know when you've just washed your car.

What we do know absolutely is that human lives are worth more than grapes and that innocent-looking grapes on the table may disguise poisonous residues hidden deep inside where washing cannot reach.

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.

Every one of us has a small but critical part to play in the battle against coronavirus. From washing our hands to wearing a face covering on public transport and in shops, every time we take one of these actions, we push the virus further into retreat.

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.

You always have to be ready. When I'm washing dishes, I have to have a towel ready so I can dry my hands and push the record button on my phone.

I try to be very cautious when washing my face.

The thing is, I am addicted to social media. I can while away hours scrolling through posts and pictures, wallowing in the details of other people's lives, catching up on news, giggling at funny videos, all the while oblivious to a sunny afternoon or the washing up.

I am joining the hundreds of thousands who shall be marching in the Virtual March on Washington to Stop Global Warming in order to demonstrate the concern that we all hold for the future of our planet and all the living things - flora, fauna, human and animal - that exist upon it.

People in Washington, D.C., may not be paying that much attention to what's happening in Chechnya, but people in Riyadh and Amman and elsewhere are.

Your credo goes further than you realized: walk on, yes, but don't walk past people who need you. Uncurl yourself so you can see them and respond.

The world is seldom so simple that it hinges on us alone.