Discover the most popular and inspiring quotes and sayings on the topic of Lukewarmness. 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 Lukewarmness Quotes And Sayings by 96 Authors including Tony Brady,Rachilde,Tommy Wallach,Nicholas Sparks,Robert Southey for you to enjoy and share.
Life is about feeling. Touches on your skin, both passionate and icy. Anything other than normal, the average, the lukewarm.
I am like a little child naked in a strong wind. I have a fever, I shiver, I'm too hot or too cold. My lips retain the unusual fruity taste of your mouth, & the bitter taste of your saliva lingers on my tongue, making me find everything I eat bland, sickening since nothing is as good as your love.
(the difference between coldness and coolness was, after all, simply a matter of degree).
Cold that I'm shivering. I'd be lying if I told you I wasn't afraid. I don't want to die, and thanks to my parents - my
Cold is thy hopeless heart, even as charity.
In this summer heat, I must remember that the realest things are the closest and farthest away, like the warmth found in winter: the heat hidden in the folds of one's coat, a lost floating breath, a kiss across the distance of zero degrees.
Coolness and absence of heat and haste indicate fine qualities.
True visionaries are never lukewarm.
Now, invite me in, before I lose my temperature.'
'Temper, you mean.'
'No, temperature. It's getting chilly.
The wet air was as cold as the ashes of love.
Cold has a thousand ways of moving in the world: on the sea it gallops like a troop of horses, on the countryside it falls like a swarm of locusts, in the cities like a knife-blade it slashes the streets and penetrates the chinks of unheated houses.
It was cold out, the kind you could see, where your breath blossomed like a floating lotus in front of your face. It was the kind of cold where you couldn't tell if it was cloudy, or if the whole sky was just the color of clouds.
I am warm on the outside, what people see. Warm eyes, warm face, warm fucking fake smile, but inside I am cold all the time, and full of lies. I am not what I seem to be; I am awful.
Right before a person freezes to death, he suddenly feels nice and warm.
temperature of true rage is absolute zero, and
Often times we call a man [or woman] cold when he [or she] is only sad.
You can describe me as a Ice cream!
I'm cold..
But, you know..
Ice cream is very sweet.
Iciness enshrouds my body - a foretaste of death's chill.
None of that "the day is over, now I can chill in front of my Firefly DVDs for the seventeenth time" warmth.
Even in warmest
glow
how cold my shadow
Cold without, color within. This was how it had been.
The day is like a diamond, all beautiful warmth on the outside but without any heat to accompany it.
Yielding, like ice about to melt.
A light snow, a snow so faint and small-bodied that it seems nothing more than a manifestation of the cold.
There's something disturbing about recalling a warm memory and feeling utterly cold.
Either be hot or cold. If you are lukewarm, the Lord will spew you forth from His mouth.
I am cold, even though the heat of early summer is adequate. I am cold because I cannot find my heart.
A man dies and his skin loses heat like the sand on a summer evening. It makes you feel like warming him up.
The air is still and freezing cold. The sky is a perfect, pale blue. The sun has just risen, weak and watery-looking, like it has just spilled itself over the horizon and it's too lazy to clean itself up.
Water! pretending to be pure, thou resemblest false friends. Thou art warm at the top and cold at bottom.
its better to be warm than cold
It was colder than a nun's vagina outside,
I am not warm. That is why my sister chose the name Winter for me.
A flip dark chill winter bastard though dry
The interval between a cold expectation and a warm desire may be filled by expectations of varying degrees of warmth or by desires of varying degrees of coldness.
Truth.
It feels cool, like water washing over my sticky-hot body. Cooling a heat that's been burning me up all my life.
Truth, I say inside my head again, just for that feeling.
My work is frequently described as cold, which is baffling, since it seems to me embarrassingly, shame-makingly, scandalously warm. I find my work filled with sentiment, and I can't imagine why people find it cold.
Clear. Cold. Empty. Like how I feel right now. Love is strange. One minute you're jungle fever. The next you're Artic winter.
Now, after so many years, I understand what the Coldness was and where it came from - this sense that everything is lost, and worthless, and meaningless.
That feeling when you're so cold you'd give anything to be warm - I've had it before, literally huddled around a candle flame on an ice sheet.
What good is the warmth of summer, without the cold of winter to give it sweetness.
So fair, so cold; like a morning of pale spring still clinging to winter's chill.
She's hot and cold, but damn, when she's hot, it's scorching, and when she's cold, it's arctic.
Cold, still, lookin a little uncomfortable in death as if they weren't quite used to it yet.
There is something hot in snow: Its pure and clean look!
The coldest word was once a glowing new metaphor.
I'm cold in summer. I'm the coldest person ever! It's very ironic I'm never cold in the scripts. Every time I'm shooting, if you don't see a part of me, there are hot water bottles there.
Colder by the hour, more dead with every breath.
Darlin', I'm rarely cold, especially when I'm near you.
When a person is accustomed to one hundred and thirty-eight in the shade, his ideas about cold weather are not valuable.
Been calm in temperament, kindly, though not of warm
Continuous eloquence wearies. Grandeur must be abandoned to be appreciated. Continuity in everything is unpleasant. Cold is agreeable, that we may get warm.
I can be more cold than people would like me to be.
How does it feel when you're alone and you're cold inside
I've been dead for seven years, that's as warm as they get.
It's not cold in here, you're just dying.
warm enough to be comfortable in only a shirt. "You look like
We alchemists look for talent that can heat up and change. Lukewarm won't do. Halfhearted holding back, well-enough getting by? Not here.
My lodging is on the cold ground, And hard, very hard, is my fare, But that which grieves me more Is the coldness of my dear.
The sensation reminds him of the first snow of winter, for those first few hours when everything is blanketed in white, soft and quiet.
It's so warm it's almost friendly. A friendly work of art. I've never thought such a thing in my life. And look at it. It's never sentimental. It's generous, but it's sardonic too. And whenever it's sardonic, a moment later it's generous again.
That arctic blast you're feeling? it's the chill coming off my cold shoulder
I'm telling you it's cold inside the body that is not the body,
lonesome behind the face
that is certainly not the face
of the person one meant to become.
In your hands winter ...
Winter is not so dangerous. I need hardness, cold, rigidity; not this heaviness, as if I'm a melon on a stem, this liquid ripeness. The
LUKEWARM PEOPLE rarely share their faith with their neighbors, coworkers, or friends. They do not want to be rejected, nor do they want to make people uncomfortable by talking about private issues like religion.
What's cooler than being cool?
Oh! Your hand is cold." Ashley cupped her fingers against her shirt to warm them.
"I've been dead for seven years," Noah said. "That's as warm as they get.
Something hot in her began to cool and, in cooling, began to anneal.
I got the right temperature for shelter you from the storm
The railing of the balcony was cold but the blue-black night air was so warm in October, in Florida, it felt as if it could hold you, all that wetness like a blanket of kisses.
A comforting acquaintance, hope, a contagious thing like spring, inebriating like lager.
All food must be capable of being digested, and that what produces digestion is warmth; that is why everything that has soul in it possesses warmth.
Temperature is as far as the heat goes, people are haters cos im doing something good. Hate me dont hate the hood. It made me strong, you wouldn't last that long.
The kind of weather that reminds you after a long winter that while the world wasn't built for humans, we were built for the world. t
The water felt cold, but I didn't mind; feeling wasn't something that I feared, despite what my employers and the rest of the world might think.
Break (Exe Lore #1)
I'm cold as a razor blade, inches from madness.
If you do not feel the bitter cold inside you when you look at the poor trembling out of cold, it means you are lack of compassion; in other words, you are lack of everything!
the lagers are warm and the takeaway's cold
Men felt a chill in their hearts; a damp in their minds. In a desperate effort to snuggle their feelings into some sort of warmth,one subterfuge was tried after anothersentences swelled, adjectives multiplied, lyrics became epics.
I think truth has no temperature.
come much colder
In numbers warmly pure and sweetly strong.
The tea is ice-cold, the room grows colder and colder, but I grow warmer and warmer.
You are never warmer than when you have been cold.
COLD. Healthier than heat.
The cold was somehow touched with life, a freshness moving through the icy air.
Just as I felt the warmth of darkness, I could feel the cool breeze of divnity
God sends cold according to clothes.
It's cold out there, colder than a ticket taker's smile at the Ivar Theatre on a Saturday night.
A coldness, nearly tangible due to its extreme weight, was perceptible the instant I entered the room.
How terrible it was that it should be spring, and everything cold-hearted, cold-hearted.
I didn't want the record to be cold and I don't think it's cold at all. I felt it was very people oriented.
You are little cold and little hungry; but someone else outside your room is freezing and starving.
Now her smile was like the bleakness of the sun in a cold winter sky. It gave light but no warmth, perhaps because there was no matching warmth in her eyes.
Martinis as cold as a banker's handclasp and dry as a deacon's cupboard.
Hypothermia. That's what they called it. I called it being freaking alive, and I couldn't have been more grateful.
There is no brew so deadly that it cannot at certain moments become precious and invigorating by giving us just the stimulus that was necessary, the warmth that we cannot generate ourselves.
How warm I feel. How icredibly alive and vibrant and heedless every last inch of me feels next to you.
So I add frigid to the list. To that stupid mental inventory I try so hard not to keep. An increasingly large list of all my flaws. My inadequacies. My failures.