Discover the most popular and inspiring quotes and sayings on the topic of Coarse. Share them with your friends on social media platforms like Facebook, Twitter, or your personal blogs, and let the world be inspired by their powerful messages. Here are the Top 100 Coarse Quotes And Sayings by 94 Authors including Amy Lane,Pierce Brosnan,William Shakespeare,Michael C. Hall,Jen Lancaster for you to enjoy and share.
If you cannot see the fineness in my Hammer, you'd best look at him with better eyes.
I love the finer things.
The sands are number'd that make up my life.
I like to think I am well-mannered. If I have the option at a breakfast place, I'll go with the grits. That's how Southern I am.
Like it. And, hey, why do I have so much sand in my crotch? Okay,
Gentle dullness ever loves a joke.
We got together in a few days a company of the toughest old salts imaginable
not pretty to look at, but fellows, by their faces, of the most indomitable spirit.
Sharper than a serpents tongue, tighter than a bongo drum, quicker than a one night stand, slicker than a mambo band.
He had that combination of savoir-faire with a sort of well-groomed coarseness which is not uncommon in young doctors.
Owr brave little shank!
I am reassured to know that the straightness of my grain is not a precondition of usefulness to God. And I am humbled to see that out of the twistedness of my wounds, he designs for me a special place of service.
across the pale glimmering of sand,
A fine lady is a squirrel-headed thing, with small airs and small notions; about as applicable to the business of life as a pair of tweezers to the clearing of a forest.
Fortune draws her breath through cracks that make coarse the route on which we march to success
You were given a sharp, acute, uncomfortable grain..; yet in absence, in the most unlikely places, it would flower out, open, shed its scent, let you touch, taste, look about you, get the whole feel of it and understanding, after years of lying lost.
pretty is as pretty does
Wilshere looks like he's got the grit between his teeth
The language denotes the man. A coarse or refined character finds its expression naturally in a coarse or refined phraseology.
The sand whispered, Be separate, the stones taught me, Be hard.
Sand is overrated. It's just tiny little rocks.
Only those who have walked barefoot on gravel will appreciate soft sand beneath their feet.
Shall I compare thee to a Shoggoth?
(a specially oily old gentleman in a blanket, with a swan's-down tippet for a beard, and a web of cracks all over him like rich pie-crust),
I like my cinema gritty, I like my eggs gritty.
Needy knife-grinder! whither are ye going? Rough is the road, your wheel is out of order; Bleak blows the blast-your hat has got a hole in it. So have your breeches.
Sand lines my soul which is filled with the breath of the ocean.
Shined, combed, brushed and gorgeous
I am like a huge rough stone ... and the only polishing I get is when some corner gets rubbed off by coming in contact with something else, striking with accelerated force ... thus I will become a smooth and polished shaft in the quiver of the Almightly.
Grit is the stubborn refusal to quit.
I am not fair save to the King, Though fair my royal dress, His kingly grace is lavished on My need and worthlessness. My blemishes he will not see But loves the beauty that shall be.
AMPLE make this bed. Make this bed with awe; In it wait till judgment break Excellent and fair. Be its mattress straight, Be its pillow round; Let no sunrise' yellow noise Interrupt this ground.
O scaly, slippery, wet, swift, staring wights, What is 't ye do? what life lead? eh, dull goggles? How do ye vary your vile days and nights? How pass your Sundays? Are ye still but joggles In ceaseless wash? Still nought but gapes and bites, And drinks, and stares, diversified with boggles.
Such was the texture of her marble.
[In a description of Laura Trevelyan.]
That's all a grit is, a vehicle. For whatever it is you rather be eating.
Things well fitted abide.
Let gentleness my strong enforcement be.
I may not be the sharpest tool in the shed, but I'm pretty!
Dullness is a misdemeanour.
I like dull. It lasts.
By the way, you have a fine ass. Sir.
Soap shining beauty.
Hee that goes barefoot, must not plant thornes.
Heaven is in a grain of sand.
Love well, whip well.
He that scatters thorns, let him not go barefoot.
Fine, Gran. I'll fist his ass.
The mills of God grind slowly, but they grind exceedingly small.
Fine feathers, they say, make fine birds.
He's slicker than a bald-tired semi on a mile of wet asphalt
You easy-living boys had better get set, they said. There's johnnies out there thicker than fleas on a billy goat in a barnlot
What is a fine person or a beauteous face,
Unless deportment give them decent grace;
Blessed with all other requisites to please,
To want the striking elegance of ease;
Awkward, embarrassed, stiff, without the skill
Of moving gracefully, or standing still.
Gentle to others, to himself severe.
Plain as a pike-staff.
We are rough men and used to rough ways.
Stones are raw, they blunt my paw,
but words will never hurt me.
We do not go to the green woods and crystal waters to rough it, we go to smooth it. We get it rough enough at home, in towns and cities.
the sand was like sugar under his feet. They
Hot and hasty, like a Scotch jig.
The dust was deep and crisp and even.
There is no gentle here.
To shift a few grains of sand is no more a sign of great strength than to see the sun a sign of great sight. There is no glory in dominating the weak.
As in nature, as in art, so in grace; it is rough treatment that gives souls, as well as stones, their luster.
I'm a man of stone - and my hands are not soft enough to brush away, each stray wisp of hair
Be your strong and simple words Keen to wound as sharpened swords, And wide as targes let them be, With their shade to cover ye.
I was sand, I was snow - written on, rewritten, smoothed over.
Thou man of scruffy looks, thou who heard'st nerfs, Thou fool-born wimpled roughhewn waste waste of flesh!
He that sows thorns should never go barefoot.
Sea sand is sea sand.
Many a man gets weary of clamping down on his rough impulses, which if given occasional release would encourage the living of life with salt in it, in place of dust.
From here on in, I rag nobody
The word "fine" is the greatest abbreviation and obviously wrong.
That woman grinds my grits, and that's a fact.
Vain until the bitter end.
This jeweled coast does not shine for its gems are coated with grit.
His father, that austere, unfeeling and untutored man, had insisted his sons polish their boots every evening. Flett has learned to be grateful for this early discipline. It kept him breathing as a boy, provided a pulse, gave order to vast incomprehension. Later he found other ways.
Oh, you made an impression. Like a stone caught in my boot.
Shall it not be scorn to me to harp on such a moulder'd string?
I am shamed through all my nature to have lov'd so slight a thing.
Dignified, like a guest.
The difference between coarse and refined abuse is the difference between being bruised by a club and wounded by a poisoned arrow.
A grindstone that had not grit in it, how long would it take to sharpen an ax? And affairs that had not grit in them, how long would they take to make a man?
In numbers warmly pure and sweetly strong.
To be gentle, tolerant, wise and reasonable requires a goodly portion of toughness.
Perfectly coiffed, every seam pressed, and just the right break of the trousers over his freshly polished wingtips. But it's the tilt of his head and the purpose in his stride that makes him look like he belongs.
Fine artists deal with finery, but I deal with painful material.
Pardon, gentles all, the flat unraised spirits that have dared on this unworthy scaffold to bring forth so great an object.
FINE stood for Fucked up, Insecure, Neurotic, and Egotistical.
There is reason in the distinction of civil and uncivil. The manners are sometimes so rough a rind that we doubt whether they cover any core or sap-wood at all.
Nobody will deny that there is at least some roughness everywhere.
As we hypnotically watch the steadily diminishing reserve of sand in life's hourglass, the instincts of a miser surface. Life is now savored, sipped as with a fine 19th Century French wine.
You're sparse." "Sparse?" "You're rake thin with obese emotions." His
Next to clothes being fine, they should be well made, and worn easily; for a man is only the less genteel for a fine coat, if, in wearing it, he shows a regard for it, and is not as easy in it as if it was a plain one.
Beatle bones and smokin' stones the dry sands fall.
Nothing is such an enemy to accuracy of judgment as a coarse discrimination; a want of such classification and distribution as the subject admits of.
When someone tells you it's a grain of sand, there's a moment where your reality falls apart and you have to reconstruct it. You have to step back and ask what the image is and what it means.
There some trifles well habited, as there are some fools well clothed.
What scrunched under our overshoes as we trudged through the stubble of the grainfield was the nasty mix of moistureless snow and windblown dirt that we called snirt.
The spike heels left a trail of silent reproach in the broadloom.
Petite and lovely as the girl next door, Dusty eschewed manners and bras in a way that complimented her boss's more uptight, corseted approach to life.
Thin gentleman, tidy little beard? He brushed his chin with his fingers. The
Fierce wee thing. There's my brave lass.