A Quote by Ze Frank

Perfectionism may look good in his shiny shoes, but he’s a little bit of an asshole and no one invites him to their pool parties. — © Ze Frank
Perfectionism may look good in his shiny shoes, but he’s a little bit of an asshole and no one invites him to their pool parties.
In my culture, shoes are more or less the first thing women look at. Women look at the build, and then they look at the shoes. If you don't have nice shoes, you don't have money. When I meet a lawyer, the first thing I look at are his shoes. If he has good shoes, he's getting my money.
Little fussy Otto, in his red-lined black opera cloak with pockets for all his gear, his shiny black shoes, his carefully cut widow's peak and, not least, his ridiculous accent that grew thicker or thinner depending on who he was talking to, did not look like a threat. He looked funny, a joke, a music-hall vampire. It had never previously occurred to Vimes that, just possibly, the joke was on other people.
See you just don’t understand women the way I do J.D. They want it all: a career apple martinis financial independence great shoes but at the same time—and this they’ll never admit—they are drawn to patriarchal men who are dominant and controlling. That’s the essence of the Darcy complex. He may be an asshole but he’s an asshole that gets the girl in the end.
How many of you say: I should like to see His face, His garments, His shoes. You do see Him, you touch Him, you eat Him. He gives Himself to you, not only that you may see Him, but also to be your food and nourishment.
My dad is so unique in what he does. It's not like I'm taking a torch from him and doing his thing. I hope I've carried from him a little bit of a sense of irony, a little bit of a wink.
I think I have that love of colour in common with Eric, my character on 'Sex Education.' That said, his look is often slightly off-kilter - the shoes will be a bit too 'out there,' or the trousers will be leopardprint or something. I like to think I'm a bit more put together than him.
Perfectionism doesn't believe in practice shots. It doesn't believe in improvement. Perfectionism has never heard that anything worth doing is worth doing badly--and that if we allow ourselves to do something badly we might in time become quite good at it. Perfectionism measures our beginner's work against the finished work of masters. Perfectionism thrives on comparison and competition. It doesn't know how to say, "Good try," or "Job well done." The critic does not believe in creative glee--or any glee at all, for that matter. No, perfectionism is a serious matter.
It takes one asshole to ruin the whole thing. That's it. One. The problem with the world is one asshole comes up with a really bad idea and now we're all taking our shoes off at the airport.
The best parties have always been at my house in Ibiza. They start with a bit of music and a barbecue by the pool.
The figures... are not supposed to reveal anything... It's like seeing a stranger in some place like an air terminal for the first time. You look at him, you notice his shoes, his suit, the pin in his lapel, but you don't have any particular feeling about him.
When I saw work shoes, I would know that that person worked. I was very worried about people with shiny, pointed shoes as a child.
I do spend quite a bit on shoes, I've a pair of Swarovski crystal Louboutin shoes, I can never wear them but they look amazing.
I think everybody has a little bit of an asshole inside of them.
Say of him what you please, but I know my child's failings. I do not love him because he is good, but because he is my little child. How should you know how dear he can be when you try to weigh his merits against his faults? When I must punish him he becomes all the more a part of my being. When I cause his tears to come my heart weeps with him. I alone have a right to blame and punish, for he only may chastise who loves.
I wore the number 24 in high school my freshman, sophomore year because of him. I wore Kobe Bryant basketball shoes because of Kobe Bryant. Every time I laced up my basketball shoes, I felt like I had Kobe Bryant with me. I had a little part of him - I had his jumper, his fadeaway.
But he is an Italian," was Umberto's sensible reply. "He doesn't care if you break some law a little bit, as long as you wear beautiful shoes. Are you wearing beautiful shoes? Are you wearing the shoes I gave you?...principessa?" I looked down at my flip-flops. "I guess I'm toast.
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