Discover the most popular and inspiring quotes and sayings on the topic of Unpack. 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 Unpack Quotes And Sayings by 98 Authors including Anne Morrow Lindbergh,Rob Sheffield,Karen Tjebben,Richelle Mead,Alice Cooper for you to enjoy and share.
Packing is chiefly planning
if it is
I still haven't finished unpacking - by the time I do, it'll be time to move again.
our bags, and through the family
I pulled out box after box, setting them haphazardly around the room. My organization lacked something
like, say, organization ...
All sliced up and sealed tight in baggies. Guess love makes you do funny things.
When a man is wrapped up in himself, he makes a pretty small package.
Towards that small and ghostly hour, [Mr. Cruncher] rose up from his chair, took a key out of his pocket, opened a locked cupboard, and brought forth a sack, a crowbar of convenient size, a rope and chain, and other fishing tackle of that nature.
Nowadays, they have more trouble packing hair dryers than baseball equipment.
Decluttering creates chaos before the calm.
I'm a sucker for packaging!
Someone who is all wrapped up in himself makes a very small package.
When you finally strip away all the material things in your house and closets, you realize how much time and money was spent wasted on things that you never really needed in the first place.
Products shouldn't just work well, they must unfold well.
I pack every minute I can with something to do.
The worlds smallest package is a person wrapped up in themselves.
Some things we pack away, stick in the back of the closet, never expect to see again - but we can't quite make ourselves discard them. Like
I'm a taped-together girl, but I can carry my own baggage.
Eventually, everything gets stuck between a pair of parentheses or buried in the bottom of a trunk.
The pieces all fit together. Yet everything was falling apart.
I am a fashion designer, so I guess that makes me an overpacker.
Whatever is contained must be released.
Being packed all the time, even when not in use, must feel something like going to bed on an empty stomach.
Startled awake. Ollie froze for a moment, staring in his direction. The kid scrunched his face and yawned like a bear. I said to Ollie, "It's still Bobby." "Right," she said. She unzipped the bag. There was no lock on the zipper, not even the tiny padlocks they
It was like removing layers of crumpled brown paper from an awkwardly shaped parcel, and revealing the attractive present which it contained.
You can't put something together again unless you've torn it apart first.
A friend gathers all the pieces and gives them back in the right order.
Just shred baby, shred.
On the shelves along the wall my stacks. Jumbled and worn. Pagers curled and stained. Spines creased and cracked.
Everyone comes with baggage. I just happen to be very good at unpacking.
It was like the moment before you open a present, still hidden inside its box and wrappings; while you're waiting to find out what it is, the eagerness and impatience and curiosity and anticipation grip you in an even stronger, more thrilling way than you feel after you find out what's inside.
The time for playing with zippers is over.
People who are wrapped up in themselves make small packages.
I was a Christmas present that was delivered unwrapped.
It's rough to go through life with your contents looking as if they settled during shipping.
I've got a lot of stuff in the bed of my truck.
This is the strange undoing of a collection, of a house and of a family. It is the moment of fissure when grand things are taken and when family objects, known and handled and loved, become stuff.
Ah, I like the look of packing crates! A household in preparation for a journey! ... Something full of the flow of life, do you understand? Movement, progress ...
Everything important that I have done can be put into a little suitcase.
she surveyed the chaos of her apartment and told herself, as she had almost every morning for the past two years, that she would start unpacking when she got home.
We've taken the world apart but we have no idea what to do with the pieces.
small things comes in big packages.*
were all wired to come come unwound.
untie. Clove Hitch
Zip! Back to the mansion. Zip! to Market Square. Zip! and there was the castle yet again. She was getting the hang of it. Zip! Here was Upper Folding - but how did you stop? Zip! "Oh, confound it!" Sophie cried, almost in Marsh Folding again.
As a kid, I remember taking apart whatever I could get my hands on.
What on earth have you packed in here? Bricks?" asked Mo as he carried Meggie's book-box out of the house.
You're the one who says books have to be heavy because the whole world's inside them," said Meggie.
A person all wrapped up in themselves makes for a mighty small package.
But you have to realize, there is no such thing as this tidy little box you think you have to fold up and fit into; it simply does not exist. That's what I'm learning, learning as we speak.
Packing all of your belongings into a U-Haul and then transporting them across several states is nearly as stressful and futile as trying to run away from lava in swim fins.
I reorganize my closet nearly every week.
He grasped a bag of zip ties from the shelf.
shut and slipped into
took the box, pulled off the ribbon, and opened it. Then
With your Christmas-Day-will-never-arrive-soon enough salivations, you anticipate the moment when, like voracious cub lions, you'll rip open the wrapping paper and feast off your every delicious present.
Life doesn't always hand you things in a neat package.
I unwrapped my love for her like one might unwrap leftovers. Gotta eat up the old stuff first, as a cannibal might say in a retirement home.
I am always surprised when I see several cameras, a gaggle on lenses, filters, meters, et cetera, rattling around in a soft bag with a complement of refuse and dust. Sometimes the professional is the worst offender!
Arrange whatever pieces come your way.
Next a big package was ransacked:inside, a pretty blue afghan. It overwhelmed her that in a store, thinking of his daughter, her father's impulse had been to wrap her in softness.
There is a frightening, sickening ease - and a clear attraction - to the way in which things can be blown apart. The hard job is bringing things together again.
just in case" is the curse of packing
I'm dumping the whole box back into your life Ed, every item of you and me. I'm dumping this box on your porch, Ed, but it's you, Ed, who is getting dumped.
Pack is built on the bonds of family, of mating, of love. You come first. You always will.
I scrambled to pack my things, glad I owned so little.
Glorious wrappings sheath the gift of one day more.
Breathless I unwrap the package.
Never lived this day before.
When you take something apart, you get a great sense of what it took to originally put it together.
As life progresses, baggage can accumulate. For a while, things can be swept under the rug, but the wait of unfinished business eventually catches up.
Unwinds didn't go out with a bang-they didn't even go out with a whimper. they went out with the silence of a candle flame pinched between two fingers.
This was one of those moments when I realized that my emotional baggage, once a few neatly packed pieces, was now like the Joads' truck, stacked high with old clothes, half a rocking chair, a mule, all barely secured with twine.
My life now fits inside a carry-on. Pretty depressing, huh?"
"Our lives are much more than just the baggage, love.
There are plastic bags with zippers on them. I've seen them in commercials," Dragos said to her. He snapped his fingers, trying to remember the name. "You put food in them."
"Ziploc bags?" she asked in a cautious voice.
He pointed at her. "Yes. I want one.
Like a gift, beautifully wrapped at the foot of your bed each morning, today asks that you open it and enjoy everything inside. Exhaust yourself with all it has to offer!
WINDOW OPENED and the tied-together
Compartmentalize
to the door. Blankets, supplies, hardtack.
ammunition boxes. They were both packed tight with cartridges standing on their firing pins, points upward.
I collected the papers, wrapped them back in the rubber band, and felt a small grief, like a person who discovers, upon returning from a trip, that something has been left behind and there is no way now to retrieve it.
The high shelf
Where you stacked the bad thing, hoping for calm,
Broke. It rolled down. It follows you to the end.
I peeked in the bag. Do you know what was in there? I'll tell you what was in there: a collapsible tray table. Is there any sadder purchase in this fucking world? Maybe a CD of C+C Music Factory's Greatest Hits, but that's about it.
The harder you had to work to open a package, the less you ended up caring about what was inside.
It's a choice, it's a bold move - disassembling the Box - and one that requires assertion, but the rewards are remarkable!!
We'd been given a gift and our job now was to unwrap it ... and see what's inside.
When we unwrap presents, I tend to sit there with a bin liner trying to collect up the wrapping paper and thinking about which pieces I can reuse and which I will recycle.
Some people are really good at packaging themselves, but that's not really me.
It scares you: all the noise, the rattling, the shaking. But the look on everybody's face when you're finished and packing, it's the best smile in the world; and there's nobody hurt, and the well's under control.
Clothes dissolving, skin pressing together like the pages of a book, bound by a common spine.
You don't pack what you need; you pack what you think you will probably need, taking into account each and every possibility, and then add some more stuff ... just in case.
When I retire I'm going to spend my evenings by the fireplace going through those boxes. There are things in there that ought to be burned.
She called it baggage. You're scared to open your suitcases and see what your mother packed.
All of us carry around countless bags of dusty old knickknacks dated from childhood: collected resentments, long list of wounds of greater or lesser significance, glorified memories, absolute certainties that later turn out to be wrong. Humans are emotional pack rats. These bags define us.
horizontally compressed
tissues, crumpled baby
A disaster wrapped in a catastrophe sitting on a pile of misfortune.
Zapped while zipping.
There are a lot of irritating aspects about large supermarkets for the wannabe eco-warrior, but the one that gets most of us hottest under the collar is packaging.
When the day came for me to leave, I sat on my front step with three suitcases, two boxes, and a teddy bear, the grand total of everything I owned. Neither of my parents was home.
This is everything I ever needed and never knew I wanted, wrapped up in the most beautiful of packages.
Everything I own can fit in two suitcases and a foot locker.
No matter what happens, you will always be Pack. Because you have that loyalty and restraint. Not human, not whatever, but Kate. Unique and different, but not separate.
Backup backpacks.