Top 83 Tinder Quotes & Sayings - Page 2

The Crone, the Reaper... She is the Dark Moon, what you don't see coming at you, what you don't get away with, the wind that whips the spark across the fire line. Chance, you could say, or, what's scarier still: the intersection of chance with choices and actions made before. The brush that is tinder dry from decades of drought, the warming of the earth's climate that sends the storms away north, the hole in the ozone layer. Not punishment, not even justice, but consequence.

Ever since our first fathers by infection took this morbum sathanicum, this devilish disease, pride, of the devil, such tinder is our nature, that every little spark sets us on fire; our nature hath grown so light, that every little thing puffeth us up, and sets us aloft in our altitudes presently.

Same reason why young women on juries are not a good idea, they don't get it. They're not in that same life experience of paying the bills, doing the mortgage, kids, community, crime, education and health care. They're like healthy and hot and running around without a care in the world... I just think, excuse them, so they can go back on Tinder and Match.com.

Tardiness is next to wickedness in a society relentless in its consumption of time as both a good and a service--as tweet and Instagram, film clip and sound bite, as sporting event, investment opportunity, Tinder hookup, and interest rate--its value measured not by its texture or its substance but by the speed of its delivery, a distinction apparent to Andy Warhol when he supposedly said that any painting that takes longer than five minutes to make is a bad painting.

With Tinder and all these other things, there's always this kind of illusion with infinite choices. There's something very cool about saying, 'Oh, I actually really care about this person, and I want to commit to loving this person and being loyal to this person.' You can't get that from the kind of infinite multiple choices that are out there.

It is the fixed that horrifies us, the fixed that assails us with the tremendous force of mindlessness. The fixed is a Mason jar,and we can't beat it open. ...The fixed is a world without fire--dead flint, dead tinder, and nowhere a spark. It is motion without direction, force without power, the aimless procession of caterpillars round the rim of a vase, and I hate it because at any moment I myself might step to that charmed and glistening thread.

I must say this now about that first fire. It was magic. Out of dead tinder and grass and sticks came a live warm light. It cracked and snapped and smoked and filled the woods with brightness. It lighted the trees and made them warm and friendly. It stood tall and bright and held back the night.

My love stories are about people who are reluctant to actualize what they so desperately want. They are timid, cautious, but eventually they dare to speak. My characters are not only hesitant; they are ambivalent about which way their libido flows: toward men or women? They are fluid in their sexuality, and this ambivalence says more about how we think about sex today than, say, Tinder. And this is a truly modern idea: Most of us don't know who we are sexually.

Online, I would never friend a random cute guy on Facebook or start liking his pictures on Instagram - even if I had a crush on him. But with Tinder, it's like following or friending each other at the same time. The risk of revealing your feelings is removed.

When I was single and on Tinder, that was a good little "Hey, did you ever see this movie?" thing. I would never bring it up myself, but if they mentioned it, then cool, that could work for me. But then on the other hand, if they're like a superfan, that could be weird if that's all they're seeing. They think of you as that character more than who you actually are.

In real life, we are all on our devices. We might go to a place where we fit the crowd and could meet someone. But, because we are all on our phones, you might not notice the cute boy behind you in line for coffee, and he's not going to notice the gorgeous girl sitting outside. So, we might as well notice them on our phones, on Tinder.

I have used dating apps a couple of times in the past and met people, but it is a difficult thing because you're meeting someone who you really don't know and you have no link to. I have friends who have had great relationships after meeting on Tinder or Bumble, so I'd never say never, but it hasn't worked for me.

There would be a blaze and a confusion, in which timid men would doubt whether the constitution would be burned to tinder or only illuminated; but that blaze and that confusion would be dear to Mr. Daubney if he could stand as the centre figure, the great pyrotechnist who did it all, red from head to foot with the glare of the squibs with which his own hands were filling all the spaces.

After the one extravagant gesture of creation in the first place, the universe has continued to deal exclusively in extravagances, flinging intricacies and colossi down aeons of emptiness, heaping profusions on profligacies with ever-fresh vigor. The whole show has been on fire from the word go. I come down to the water to cool my eyes. But everywhere I look I see fire; that which isn't flint is tinder, and the whole world sparks and flames.

In the Middle Ages, cathendrals and convents burned like tinder; imagining a medieval story without a fire is like imagining a World War II movie in the Pacific without a fighter plane shot down in flames.

In the world of Tinder and Bumble, where people keep up the appearance that they are low-key, lacking in any drama and partaking in an Instagram-worthy activity during every free moment between trips overseas, admitting you work from home and have small children orbiting you full-time feels like a drag.

Stories of all lengths and depths come from different parts of the cave. For a novel, you must lay in mental, physical and spiritual provision as for a siege or for a time of hectic explosions, while a short story is, or can be, a steady, timed flame like the lighting of a blow lamp on a building site full of dry tinder.

Never has there been a map, however carefully executed to detail and scale, which has carried its owner over even one inch of ground. Never has there been a parchment of law, however fair, which prevented one crime. Never has there been a scroll, even such as the one I hold, which so much as a penny or produced a single word of acclamation. Action, alone, is the tinder which ignites the map, the parchment, this scroll, my plans, my goals, into a living force. Action is the food and drink which will nourish my success. I will act now.

There's this one called Raya that is Tinder for celebrities. You have to do corny things like put a song to photos of yourself: 'Daisy likes pubs! Horse riding! Looks good in a bikini!' It's all so mortifying. My male friend got matched with Courtney Love and if ever there's a reason not to be on those things surely that's it.

Tinder makes it obvious that I'm not alone in being single and that there are plenty of single parents looking for a partner. A date not having the potential I'd hoped for is no longer a tragedy, and suddenly dating is fun again. I no longer feel pressured. I trust that someone, eventually, will like me for me.

The taste for books was an early one. As a child he was sometimes found at midnight by a page still reading. They took his taper away, and he bred glow-worms to serve his purpose. They took the glow-worms away and he almost burnt the house down with a tinder.

I want to love you simply, in words not spoken: tinder to the flame which transforms it to ash I want to love you simply, in signs not expressed: clouds to the rain which make them evanescent (Aku Ingin-I Want)

Society is to the individual what the sun and showers are to the seed. It develops him, expands him, unfolds him, calls him out of himself. Other men are his opportunity. Each one is a match which ignites some new tinder in him unignitible by any previous match. Without these the sparks of individuality would sleep in him forever.