A Quote by Celia Imrie

If I ever married, I know I would dread the daily sound of the key in the door and the casual expectancy of 'Hello! I'm home!' — © Celia Imrie
If I ever married, I know I would dread the daily sound of the key in the door and the casual expectancy of 'Hello! I'm home!'
If I ever married, I know I would dread the daily sound of the key in the door and the casual expectancy of 'Hello! I'm home!
In oneself lies the whole world and if you know how to look and learn, the door is there and the key is in your hand. Nobody on earth can give you either the key or the door to open, except yourself.
I don't like hello. It makes me sound like I have dementia, like I've never heard a phone ring before and I don't know what's supposed to happen next. Hello?
I love having the door opened for me. Isn't that just polite? But the key is, would you then mind if I opened the door for you? The key is, chivalry should be consensual. Both parties should be feeling good about that.
Sexuality is the key to the problem of the psychoneuroses and of the neuroses in general. No one who disdains the key will ever be able to unlock the door.
I never realized how similar that I am to Tom Brady. mean, the obvious physical appearance would be the first thing. The fact that he's married to a supermodel? Hello? Yeah, I'm also married to a supermodel.
Every man is a door; when the door is closed, just search for the key gently! Remember that every door has a key!
Intention is very important in sound, in listening. When I married my wife, I promised her I would listen to her every day as if for the first time. Now that's something I fall short of on a daily basis.
...there is no evidence that casual exposure to secondhand smoke has any impact on your life expectancy.
Christ is the door that opens into God's presence and lets the soul into His very bosom, faith is the key that unlocks the door; but the Spirit is He that makes this key.
The key that unlocks a door is a key to keep if you want to go through that door again.
I used to think the store detective had followed me all the way home and would knock on the door and go, 'Hello, is this your daughter? She's got three blue lipsticks and a moisturiser from Boots in her bag.' We just used to nick crap. Not even stuff we wanted.
A man forced to spend his life without ever having the right, without ever finding the time, to shut himself up all alone, no matter where, to think, to reflect, to work, to dream? Ah! my dear boy, a key, the key of a door which one can lock this is happiness, mark you, the only happiness!
Good-bye is always hello to something else. Good-bye/hello, good-bye/hello, like the sound of a rocking chair.
Our own front door can be a wonderful thing, or a sight we dread; rarely is it only a door.
I tell young comics, 'Do you want this badly enough? It's there. But you have to go get it. And if you think I'm going to give you the key to the lock of that door, there is no key, there is no lock, and there is no door.'
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