Top 1200 Not Okay Quotes & Sayings - Page 5

Don't change who you are and it's okay to say no.

I want to buy pizza, but my players don't want pizza; maybe they don't love pizza. Because I said when we make a clean sheet, I will buy everybody a pizza. Maybe they wait until I say, 'Okay, a good dinner.' I told them, the clean sheet, I buy everybody a pizza. I think they wait until I improve my offer: 'Okay, a pizza and a hot dog.'

You know, these conservative women, somebody really needs to go repossess their ovaries. Really, truly, they have no right to them. They are fabulous, little organs and they have absolutely no right to be estrogen-bearing beings. Okay? Just cut 'em off, let 'em go through the hot flashes, let 'em just sit there and complain about hormone therapy, okay? Just take the ovaries and get it over with. Because they don't deserve to have estrogen. They really don't. It's a privilege.

Okay, so let's run faster.

We sat there, not talking, for a few minutes. He ate the Moon Pie; only skinny people can scarf down junk food like that. Finally, I said, "Norman?" "Yeah?" "Are you ever going to show me the painting?" "Man," he said. "You are, like, so impatient." "I am not," I said. "I've been waiting forever." "Okay, okay." He stood up and went over to the corner, picking up the painting and bringing it over to rest against the bright pink belly of one of the mannequins. Then, he handed me a bandana. "Tie that on.

God is okay. He's got big shoulders. He's okay with our - with our questioning and our - you know, I think the bigger the question, the bigger the answer, you know? It may be sickness, it may be loss, it may be disappointment, but sometimes you feel like heaven's silent, that "God, how-how can this be love?" But actually, if you go back to the Word, you know, it just underpins everything.

I was just an okay person.

And if you think that you're showing your love to Catherine by suffering the way you've been doing, then somewhere along the way, I must have messed up in raising you." "You didn't mess up...." "I must have. Because when I look at you, I see myself, and to be honest, I'd rather see someone different. I'd like to see someone who learned that it's okay to go on, that it's okay to find someone that can make you happy. But right now, it's like I'm looking in the mirror and seeing myself twenty years ago.

My movies are okay, but they're not my specials.

I like women who are okay with who they are.

I have a biology degree, okay?

We know that Europe loves President Obama. He had adoring crowds. The press loves Obama. The question is how will this date end? Okay? The question is, to what end? Why do they love President Obama? They love his personal story, they love his wife. North Korea, China and Russia don't really care about Michelle's arms and, you know, whether they gave an iPod to the Queen, okay?

I'm unashamed in my faith, and I'm okay with that.

It's okay to dream big.

That's okay, I'm still the Greatest.

It's okay not to be okay

Staying stagnant is not okay.

I'm really stubborn, and I'm okay with that.

I said, "I'll take the T-bone steak." A soft voice mooed, "Oh wow." And I looked up and realized The waitress was a cow. I cried, "Mistake--forget the the steak. I'll take the chicken then." I heard a cluck--'twas just my luck The busboy was a hen. I said, "Okay no, fowl today. I'll have the seafood dish." Then I saw through the kitchen door The cook--he was a fish. I screamed, "Is there anyone workin' here Who's an onion or a beet? No? Your're sure? Okay then friends, A salad's what I'll eat." They looked at me. "Oh,no," they said, "The owner is a cabbage head.

The odd thing is that Trump's hand movements don't seem to coordinate with the topic at hand. Most pols manage to make their hand movements correspond with the message, so a slash will accompany emphasis, etc. Trump's got about three moves, the most notable of which is his "okay" gesture, making a circle with his thumb and forefinger. Anyway, Trump has only a few gestures, including that one, and to my eye he uses them seemingly indiscriminately. I've seen him use the "okay/f.u." sign to be pedantic.

It's okay to be confident, but not arrogant.

I'm obsessed with 'Homeland.' It's not even okay.

Leave an extrovert alone for two minutes and he will reach for his cell phone. In contrast, after an hour or two of being socially on, we introverts need to turn off and recharge. My own formula is roughly two hours alone for every hour of socializing. This isn't antisocial. It isn't a sign of depression. It does not call for medication. For introverts, to be alone with our thoughts is as restorative as sleeping, as nourishing as eating. Our motto: I'm okay, you're okay-in small doses.

And if you're a parent who thinks you're okay because your kid doesn't have a phone or iPod yet, and/or you've used all the parent controls to filter out explicit material, you're not okay. The filters are tissue paper and your kid without a phone is on a school bus or in a locker room or at a public park with phone-equipped kids every day. And they're like all kids in exploring - by whatever means available to them - exactly what their parents are treating as too embarrassing or taboo to talk about.

Dear Willem: I’ve been trying to forget about you and our day in Paris for nine months now, but as you can see, it’s not going all that well. I guess more than anything, I want to know, did you just leave? If you did, it’s okay. I mean it’s not, but if I can know the truth, I can get over it. And if you didn’t leave, I don’t know what to say. Except I’m sorry that I did. I don’t know what your response will be at getting this letter, like a ghost from your past. But no matter what happened, I hope you’re okay.

When you stand out there," John continues in a hoarse voice, "keep your chin up, all right? Don't let them get to you." "I won't." "Make them work for it. Punch someone if you have to." John gives me a sad, crooked smile. "You're a scary kid. So scare them. Okay? All the way until the end." For the first time in a long time, I feel like a little brother. I have to swallow hard to keep my eyes dry. "Okay," I whisper.

Play fair, okay?

I let her through. She checked Derek's pulse and his breathing, saying both seemed okay, then leaned down to his face. "Nothing weird on his breath. Smells . . . like toothpaste." Derek's eyes opened, and the first thing he saw was Tori's face inches from his. He jumped and let out an oath. Simon cracked up. I madly motioned for him to be quiet. "Are you okay?" I asked Derek. "He is now," Simon said. "After Tori jump-started his heart.

I can't let fear kill my creative brain. Fear is the killer. Your bad choices come from fear. And I'm constantly combating fear. I'm one of the most fearful people, which may be why I'm so sensitive about it. I combat fear, constantly. So, when something like this happens, it only makes us stronger, but it reminds you that your strength is by being able to fight that stuff off and being okay with failure. If I get everything I wish and I get to make movies for the rest of my life, I'm going to have many failures and I need to be okay with that.

I have a great editor and I enjoy, in a masochistic way, being ruthless about my own performance. How do I know, but I think I'm quite good at saying, "That's no good. That's no good. That's it. That's it. That's good." And I'm with the editor who goes, "No, I think you're wrong. That's not your best." There's an initial point in the editing, if you're directing yourself, especially in my case, where you go, "Ouch, ouch, ouch, I can't watch this." And then, there's a point where you become hard-nosed and just take your neurosis away and go, "What's working? That's okay. That's okay. We can lose that, and lose that." You get objective about it.

I'm not okay, you're not okay, and that's okay.

It's all going to be okay.

It's okay to be lost in college.

Okay greasers,you've had it.

We are all different and that's okay.

I’ve been thinking about that ever since. Am I lucky? Am I lucky that I didn’t die? Am I lucky that, compared to the other kids here, my life doesn’t seem so bad? Maybe I am, but I have to say, I don’t feel lucky. For one thing, I’m stuck in this pit. And just because your life isn’t as awful as someone else’s, that doesn’t mean it doesn’t suck. You can’t compare how you feel to the way other people feel. It just doesn’t work. What might look like the perfect life—or even an okay life—to you might not be so okay for the person living it.

It's okay to be burnt out.

It's okay to not be superwoman all the time.

Okay is BURSTING with sensuality

Bullying is not okay. Period.

Heaven is where you'll be when you are okay right where you are.

Effort is between you, and you, and nobody else. So that team that thinks it's ready to see you, they think what they've seen on film, they ain't saw what film shows, because every day is a new day. Every moment is a new moment. So now you've got to go out and show them that I'm a different creature now, than I was five minutes ago, cause I'm pissed off for greatness. Cause if you ain't pissed off for greatness, that just means you're okay with being mediocre, and ain't no man in here okay with just basic.

It's okay to say what you want to do.

And I was -- this is just how I was afraid you'd take it. I knew it, that you'd think this means you were right to be afraid all the time and never feel secure or trust me. I knew it'd be "See, you're leaving after all when you promised you wouldn't." I knew it but I'm trying to explain anyway, okay? And I know you probably won't understand this either, but --wait-- just try to listen and maybe absorb this, okay? Ready? Me leaving is not the confirmation of all your fears about me. It is not. It's because of them.

Growing up in a place that has winter, you learn to avoid self-pity. Winter is not a personal experience, everybody else is just as cold as you, so you shouldn't complain about it too much. You learn this as a kid, coming home crying from the cold, and Mother looks down and says, 'It's only a little frostbite. You're okay.' And thus you learn to be okay. What's done is done. Get over it. Drink your coffee. It's not the best you'll ever get but it's good enough.

You okay? (Grace) Oh, yeah. I’m just fine considering the fact I’ve walked through burning fires that hurt less than my groin does right now. (Julian) I said I was sorry. Okay, can you reach the pedals? (Grace) I’d like to reach your pedals…(Julian) Julian! Would you concentrate? (Grace) All right. I’m concentrating. (Julian) I don’t mean on my breasts. (He dropped his hungry gaze to her lap.) Or there, either. (Grace)

If I'm hated, okay. I don't believe that.

It's the playoffs. There's no room for okay.

My tennis skills are okay.

The measure of our mindfulness, the touchstone for sanity in this society, is our level of productivity, our attention to responsibility, our ability to plain and simple hold down a job. If you're still at the point when you're even just barely going through the motions--showing up at work, paying the bills--you are still okay or okay enough. A desire not to acknowledge sadness in ourselves or those close to us--better known these days as denial, is such a strong urge that plenty of people prefer to think that until you are actually flying out of a window, you don't have a problem.

Remember who you are. It's really okay to be who you are.

It's okay to be crazy, but don't be insane.

It's okay to fail if you learn from it.

It's okay to be a freak.

I think I look okay.

"You are the actor, and I understand we already had our sit down, you explained your concept, your view," so I said, "Okay, I'm in your hands." That means that if you've got to nudge me a little bit to the right I move to the right, just from the pressure, weight, but you won't have to touch me at all. You can come and go "Okay, you want me over here a little bit more," so no pressure on us at all that's easy to do.

No one in my family or my circle of friends had ever had to confront something like this. Jamie was seventeen, a child on the verge of womanhood, dying and still very much alive at the same time. I was afraid, more afraid than I'd ever been, not only for her, but for me as well. I lived in fear of doing something wrong, of doing something that would offend her. Was it okay to ever get angry in her presence? Was it okay to talk about the future anymore?

I'm a humble guy, okay?

That's why every society on the planet has very definite rules, ideas about how sex should be regulated, how sex should be expressed, what's okay, what's not okay. And I guess we do live in a place, and have for a long time, where there's more openness and there's more willingness to tolerate different kinds of behavior, but with that comes people creating other rules and other kinds of controls. It's always going to be a question of what's acceptable and what isn't and what's the danger point and what rouses people's contempt and what people are allowed to get away with.

I'm okay with being the oddball.