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Browse 410 quotes about Soap.

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Soap Quotes

“Mr. Cuddleswithbubbles just asked me if I could make a soapy duck soup that’s scented like a Boxcar Willie song, to capture that classic 1991 Branson nostalgia. I’ll try, but I’m not sure if I have that much cactus extract.”

SongMusicAbsurdDucksSoapSurrealDuckDuck QuoteDuck QuotesCactus
Book:Music is fluid, and my saxophone overflows when my ducks slosh in the sounds I make in elevators.
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“I hate when I'm not done with my cup but my mom decides to put it in the dishwasher anyway and the cup isn't dishwasher safe. I keep telling my mom that my origami coffee mugs are hand wash ONLY. Handshakes are also hand wash only. -Karen Quan and Jarod Kintz”

LifeHumorMotherRelationshipsFamilyMomSafeCoffeeAbsurdNetworkingSoapSurrealCoffee CupInstagram QuotesHandshakeInstaquoteOrigamiCupWashDishwasherInstagram Quote
Book:liQUID PROse QUOtes
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“The bunk was a long, rectangular building. Inside, the walls were whitewashed and the floor unpainted. In three walls there were small, square windows, and in the fourth a solid door with a wooden latch. Against the walls were eight bunks, five of them made up with blankets and the other three showing their burlap ticking. Over each bunk there was nailed an apple-box with the opening forward so that it made two shelves for the personal belongings of the occupant of the bunk. And these shelves were loaded with little articles, soap and talcum-powder, razors and those Western magazines ranch-men love to read and scoff at and secretly believe. And there were medicines on the shelves, and little vials, combs; and, from nails on the box-sides, a few neck-ties. Near one wall there was a black cast-iron stove, its stove-pipe going straight up through the ceiling. In the middle of the room stood a big square table littered with playing-cards, and around it were grouped boxes for the players to sit on.”

MagazinesSoapPlaying CardsBunkStove
Book:Of Mice and Men
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“She picked through the bits of jewelry, the stud earrings and ruby ring that belonged to their mother, Shirin. There was something almost meditative about this ritual of hers, combing through the photos and small keepsakes, even if she touched on some painful memories. It was as if her fingers were actually tracing the milestones each piece represented. Her hand closed on a smooth, round object, something resembling a marble egg. It was a miniature bar of lotus soap, still in its wrapper, bought on their last trip to the 'hammam'. The public bathhouse had been a favorite spot of theirs, a place the three of them liked to go to on Thursdays, the day before the Iranian weekend. Marjan held the soap to her nose. She took a deep breath, inhaling the downy scent of mornings spent washing and scrubbing with rosewater and lotus products. All at once she heard the laughter once again, the giggles of women making the bathing ritual a party more than anything else. The 'hammam' they had attended those last years in Iran was situated near their apartment in central Tehran. Although not as palatial as the turquoise and golden-domed bathhouse of their childhood, it was still a grand building of hot pools and steamy balconies, a place of gossip and laughter. The women of the neighborhood would gather there weekly to untangle their long hair with tortoiseshell combs and lotus powder, a silky conditioner that left locks gleaming like onyx uncovered. For pocket change, a 'dalak' could be hired by the hour. These bathhouse attendants, matronly and humorous for all their years spent whispering local chatter, would scrub at tired limbs with loofahs and mitts of woven Caspian seaweed. Massages and palm readings accompanied platters of watermelon and hot jasmine tea, the afternoons whiled away with naps and dips in the perfumed aqueducts regulated according to their hot and cold properties.”

MemorySoapScentsMarjan AminpourMementosBathhouseBath Products
Book:Rosewater and Soda Bread
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“Сравниться с ПХД может только наряд на кухню, но там все сразу обожрутся — дышать плохо, ходить того хуже, и уже трудовая страда не в радость. А трудовая — она страда, потому что на ПХД работают все без исключения. Ну, неодинаково, конечно. Одни перетаскивают кровати и моют пол, другие перетаскивают то же самое и носят первым воду, третьи подметают и крошат мыло, четвёртые — тоже крошат мыло рядом с третьими, но с ними не подметают, пятые — всеми командуют и всем показывают, как делать. Ну, шестые командуют пятыми. Ну, пускай седьмые дают общие указания шестым, сверху, так сказать. Но даже те, кто лишь пьёт в каптёрке чиф, помнят о ПХД. Пьют и помнят. Никто не остаётся совершенно в стороне.”

ArmySocial JusticeSoapCleanliness Is Next To Godliness
Book:Несгибаемая рота, или Сны полка
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“After Twiss went out the barn, Milly went up to their bedroom with the brown paper bag. She looked out the window before she turned it upside down and the bars of lavender soap shaped like seashells and the card shaped like a rectangle came tumbling out. Asa's name graced the front of the card. A note graced the back. 'I know why you did it, Milly. Bella swings a golf club just like him.' Milly sat a long time on her old twin mattress, staring at the fleur-de-lis carved into the headboard, at the life that didn't belong to her and the life that did, before she placed the soaps beneath the velvet tray in her jewelry box and closed it. She never washed her hands with a single one of the seashell-shaped soaps, although from time to time, when Twiss had gone for a walk or to the barn, she'd open her jewelry box and examine her only secret. 'La joie de vivre.' The scent of lavender. Forgiveness. Age-old love.”

LoveForgivenessSoapLavenderAge OldMilly And Asa
Book:The Bird Sisters
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“Her hand closed on a smooth, round object, something resembling a marble egg. It was a miniature bar of lotus soap, still in its wrapper, bought on their last trip to the 'hammam'. The public bathhouse had been a favorite spot of theirs, a place the three of them liked to go to on Thursdays, the day before the Iranian weekend. Marian held the soap to her nose. She took a deep breath, inhaling the downy scent of mornings spent washing and scrubbing with rosewater and lotus products. All at once she heard the laughter once again, the giggles of women making the bathing ritual a party more than anything else. The 'hammam' they had attended those last years in Iran was situated near their apartment in central Tehran. Although not as palatial as the turquoise and golden-domed bathhouse of their childhood, it was still a grand building of hot pools and steamy balconies, a place of gossip and laughter. The women of the neighborhood would gather there weekly to untangle their long hair with tortoiseshell combs and lotus powder, a silky conditioner that left locks gleaming like onyx uncovered. For pocket change, a 'dalak' could be hired by the hour. These bathhouse attendants, matronly and humorous for all their years spent whispering local chatter, would scrub at tired limbs with loofahs and mitts of woven Caspian seaweed. Massages and palm readings accompanied platters of watermelon and hot jasmine tea, the afternoons whiled away with naps and dips in the perfumed aqueducts regulated according to their hot and cold properties.”

MemorySoapScentsMarjan AminpourHair CareBathhouseBath Products
Book:Rosewater and Soda Bread
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“Different skin types require different types of cleanser, but there is one common cleanser nobody should ever use: common bar soap. Soap often contains a drying surfactant called sodium lauryl sulfate, which can leave a film on your skin that feels uncomfortable, strip it of essential oils, and deplete moisture. Even worse, drying your skin can increase the appearance of wrinkles.”

BeautyCleaningSoapWrinklesSkinAnti AgingAgining
Book:The Age Fix: A Leading Plastic Surgeon Reveals How to Really Look 10 Years Younger
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“She's my pride, my winning prize, always a surprise, to look into her eyes, see her free soul, as soap that slips from the grip of control; a stroll through the park on a dark night with stars to spark the sky, heaven with no price tag I realize, love is the same: endless, priceless, full bliss; to have this princess I pinch myself thinking this is a dream, but to my reprise, I can only say I am now, at last, alive.”

LifeHeartSoulWholeDreamPoetryNightHeavenStarsDarkAliveSkyPrideCoupleEternalSurpriseRealizationWomanBlissAwakeEyesRhymeSoapPricelessSparkleCompletePrice TagLyricSlipGrip
Author:Anthony Liccione
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“I bring you this stately matron named Christendom, returning bedraggled, besmirched, and dishonored from pirate raids in Kiao-Chow, Manchuria, South Africa, and the Phillipines, with her soul full of meanness, her pocket full of boodle, and her mouth full of pious hypocrisies. Give her soap and a towel, but hide the looking-glass.”

GivingSoulMouthsSouthGlassesHypocrisyPocketsSouth AfricaSoapPiratePiousMeannessTowelsChristendom
Book:Dear Mark Twain: Letters from His Readers
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“Sure, I'd love to be on primetime, but if I'm blessed enough to be picked up by another soap, thank God! It's so hard out there. And when you're not working, you feel horrible. You don't know when you'll get the next job. You don't know how long the soap genre will be around. I want to help keep these shows on the air and keep everybody working!”

IfsKnowsWantFeelsLongHardEnoughHelpingShowsJobsNextKnow HowAirBlessedHorribleGenreThank GodSoap
Author:Lindsay Hartley
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