Quotes About Washing

Laundry Day

A man washing up secretly imagines himself to be the head surgeon in an operating theater. He is entitled to bark out peremptory orders: 'Right! I'm ready for the pudding things now!

Who are these arrayed in white robes . . . ? These are the ones who . . . washed their robes and made them white in the blood of the Lamb. – Revelation 7:13–14

My sheets had never been so clean as they had in the past few months. I hardly got them on again before something else happened and I was feverishly ripping them off and stuffing them in the wash with double amounts of soap and all the extra buttons pushed: extra wash, extra rinse, extra water, extra spin, extra protection against things that go bump in the night.

One thing was certain, that the WHITE kitten had had nothing to do with it:—it was the black kitten's fault entirely. For the white kitten had been having its face washed by the old cat for the last quarter of an hour (and bearing it pretty well, considering); so you see that it COULDN'T have had any hand in the mischief.

They ask of me only to weep repentance for a sin that does not concern me and I shall get in return an alien freedom I don't understand: to be drubbed in one thin, wounding water after another of their philosophy - and confidently they would hang their washing in the heavens.

It was later, after they'd dozed and he'd pulled her into the shower upon waking, that Cooper started on a plan. She laughed at his timing. "I do my best thinking in the shower," he told her, then poured bath soap in his hand and started rubbing her back. "I'm pretty sure I'll think even better if I have something more fun to be washing than my own self." He slipped his hands around to the front, making her squeal, then maybe moan a bit.

I love preshrunk cottons for traveling. Mamacita can wash and press them overnight — another space-saving trick. Whatever I've worn that day goes into the hotel bathtub for a good soak and some squishing back and forth, and then after a time Mamacita goes in and rinses them, rolls them in big towels, and irons them while they're still damp.

The rain sounded like it was washing the whole world away.

He went three hundred yards up the slope to the other hotel, he engaged a room, and found himself washing without a memory of the intervening ten minutes, only a sort of drunken flush pierced with voices, unimportant voices that did not know how much he was loved.

The announcer, in milky tones, rolled out the commercial; it was all about some sort of washing powder that made laundry days a mere frolic in the backyard

washing terror-waves round earth-globe back to suburb TV home night kitchens

Every profession is an island whose inhabitants earn a precarious living by taking in each other's washing.

He had such a reassuring round face, like a dinner plate, warm from washing.

Ring around the collar.

Laundry is the only thing that should be separated by color.

[Bottle feeding] also made a fetish out of cleanliness, and maybe all the washing and scrubbing has further reduced the pleasure we take in our body and in life.

I came out of the mall one day, and a guy was standing there with a coat hanger in his window, and I couldn't stop myself. I asked the stupid question. 'You lock your keys in the car?' 'Nope, just washed it, gonna hang it up to dry.'

In my childhood dreams, I pictured Italy as paradise. I longed to be the next Sophia Loren, living in a village with winding cobbled streets where washing hung from windows and everybody gesticulated and shouted amicably. Ah, but life surprises.

It was so quiet, I could hear my own breathing, loud in my ears. Outside, the ocean was crashing, waves hitting sand, then pulling back to sea. I thought of everything being washed away, again and again. We make such messes in this life, both accidentally and on purpose. But wiping the surface clean doesn't really make anything any neater. It just masks what is below. It's only when you really dig down deep, go underground, that you can see who you really are.

Los empleados municipales lavan la sangre en la Plaza de los Sacrificios. • Octavio Paz

The Lord turned away washing His hands without soap and water Like a common housefly.

We have lost the art of public tenderness, these small gestures of wiping and washing; we have forgotten how abjectly the body welcomes a formal touch.

his thoughts washing backwards and into him as if the ocean could be sucked back into the tiny mysterious coils of a single shell.