Resting On Your Laurels Quotes

I just want to leave you with this thought, that it's just been sort of a dress rehearsal, and we're just getting started. So if any of you start resting on your laurels, I mean just forget it, because...we are just getting started.

You can never have too much coffee”, I said He turned and smiled at me. “You think so, but the rest of us get a little OD’ed on your level of caffeine.

Resting on your laurels is as dangerous as resting when you are walking in the snow. You doze off and die in your sleep.

-What's so funny?" "-Sorry," David said, reddening again. "You just taste so sweet." "-What do you mean, sweet?" He licked his bottom lip one more time. "-You taste like honey." "-Honey?" "-Yeah, I thought I was going nuts the day...well, you know, that one day. But it was the same today. Your mouth is really sweet." He paused for a second, then grinned. "-Hot like honey-like nectar. That makes more sense." "-Great. Now I'm going to have to explain that to everyone I kiss for the rest of my life unless it's you or another faerie." She'd almost said Tamani's name. Her fingers flew to the ring around her neck. David shrugged. "-Then don't kiss anyone except me." "-David..." "-I'm just offering up the obvious solution," he said, hands up in protest.

Do not rest on your laurels when you get to the top; you risk losing your edge once you let success go to your head.

It helps to sometimes take a break by resting on your laurels.

You cannot rest on your laurels as a sensual woman. Remember, your life is like that of an influencer. Meaning your yesterday's 'wow' quickly becomes your today's 'ordinary.' Always keep in mind that your value comes from your creations.

And once you’ve found success, don’t stop. It’s not about being insatiable; it’s about not resting on your laurels.

I have to clean up first. I’m still all sweaty and stuff from the crime scene.” I realized he was wearing a white shirt and I might have dried blood on me. It made me draw back and look at the front of him. “What is wrong, ma petite?” “I may have dried blood and things on me, and you’re wearing white.” He drew me back into his arms. “I would rather hold you close than worry about my clothes. The shirt will wash, or we can throw it away. I do not care.” I pushed back just enough to turn my face up, resting my chin on his chest so that I gazed up the line of his body, and he looked down so that our eyes met down the line of his chest. “I know you love me, but when you don’t care about your clothes, I know it’s true love for you.” I grinned as I said it. He laughed, abrupt, surprised, and for a moment I got to see what he must have looked like centuries ago before being a vampire had taught him to control his face and show nothing for fear it would be used against him by those more powerful than him. I smiled up at him, held as close to him as I could with clothes and weapons still on, and loved him. I loved that I could make him laugh like that, loved that he felt safe enough to show me this part of him, loved that even when we were ass-deep in alligators, being with each other made it better. The alligators would be chewing on our asses either way, but with each other it was more fun, and we were more likely to be able to make a matching set of alligator luggage out of our enemies rather than end up as their dinner. I gazed up at him as the laughter filled his face, and just loved him. The day had sucked, but Jean-Claude made it suck a lot less, and that was what love was supposed to do. It was supposed to make things better, not worse, which made me wonder if Asher truly loved anyone. I pushed the thought away, and enjoyed the man in my arms, and the fact that I had made him laugh.

A good effort is not necessarily our best. And our best effort is not necessarily good.

Never rest on your laurels. Never quit. Never stop working to make the world a better place. That's our unfinished business.

I called her Mrs. Bennington at her insistence. When I'd referred to her as Ms. Bennington, she'd nearly bitten my head off. She was not one of your liberated women. She liked being a wife and mother. I was glad for her, it meant more freedom for the rest of us.

When you reassess where you are and what you’ve done, new factors may come to light to help you make more informed choices moving forward. Whether your assessment encourages you to rest happily on your laurels or change directions, reassessment is incredibly valuable.

Focusing on the future discourages people who did well from resting on their laurels and prevents people who did badly from wallowing in despair. Focusing on what each person plans to do differently as a result of the review is also a great way to check for understanding

I think you’re the only person I know who gets excited over these dead things.” Freya returned his smile with her own grin and let the crossbow in her hands rest against her hip. “If you don’t think they’re even the teensiest bit fascinating, then you best just stay home and let me and Darius do the fun stuff for once.

We must not confuse resting on our laurels with walking intimately with God. If we rely on our past victories, we’ll fail in our current battles. However, if we rest in God more than we trust ourselves—because we have a history with Him—He’ll cover us, equip us, empower us, and protect us whether we feel up for the battle or not.

You cannot rest on your laurels as a sensual woman. Remember, your life is like that of an influencer. Meaning your yesterday's 'wow' quickly becomes your today's 'ordinary.' Your value comes from your creations. So as a sensual woman, what are you creating everyday in terms of your dressing style, your home decorating style, your meal preparation style, your romance style, your sexting, flirting or seducing style, even your style when it comes to connecting or making love to your intimate lover? Are you living at the edge of your sensual capabilities? A sensual lifestyle is essentially a value creation lifestyle. It's not for those who are lazy, complacent, unimaginative, prudish or frigid.

There was a note on the table.” “Bring it here,” Van Eck barked. The boy strode down the aisle, and Van Eck snatched the note from his hand. “What does it … what does it say?” asked Bajan. His voice was tremulous. Maybe Inej had been right about Alys and the music teacher. Van Eck backhanded him. “If I find out you knew anything about this—” “I didn’t!” Bajan cried. “I knew nothing. I followed your orders to the letter!” Van Eck crumpled the note in his fist, but not before Inej made out the words in Kaz’s jagged, unmistakable hand: Noon tomorrow. Goedmedbridge. With her knives. “The note was weighted down with this.” The boy reached into his pocket and drew out a tie pin—a fat ruby surrounded by golden laurel leaves. Kaz had stolen it from Van Eck back when they’d first been hired for the Ice Court job. Inej hadn’t had the chance to fence it before they left Ketterdam. Somehow Kaz must have gotten hold of it again. “Brekker,” Van Eck snarled, his voice taut with rage. Inej couldn’t help it. She started to laugh. Van Eck slapped her hard. He grabbed her tunic and shook her so that her bones rattled. “Brekker thinks we’re still playing a game, does he? She is my wife. She carries my heir.” Inej laughed even harder, all the horrors of the past week rising from her chest in giddy peals. She wasn’t sure she could have stopped if she wanted to. “And you were foolish enough to tell Kaz all of that on Vellgeluk.” “Shall I have Franke fetch the mallet and show you just how serious I am?” “Mister Van Eck,” Bajan pleaded. But Inej was done being frightened of this man. Before Van Eck could take another breath, she slammed her forehead upward, shattering his nose. He screamed and released her as blood gushed over his fine mercher suit. Instantly, his guards were on her, pulling her back. “You little wretch,” Van Eck said, holding a monogrammed handkerchief to his face. “You little whore. I’ll take a hammer to both your legs myself—” “Go on, Van Eck, threaten me. Tell me all the little things I am. You lay a finger on me and Kaz Brekker will cut the baby from your pretty wife’s stomach and hang its body from a balcony at the Exchange.” Ugly words, speech that pricked her conscience, but Van Eck deserved the images she’d planted in his mind. Though she didn’t believe Kaz would do such a thing, she felt grateful for each nasty, vicious thing Dirtyhands had done to earn his reputation—a reputation that would haunt Van Eck every second until his wife was returned. “Be silent,” he shouted, spittle flying from his mouth. “You think he won’t?” Inej taunted. She could feel the heat in her cheek from where his hand had struck her, could see the mallet still resting in the guard’s hand. Van Eck had given her fear and she was happy to return it to him. “Vile, ruthless, amoral. Isn’t that why you hired Kaz in the first place? Because he does the things that no one else dares? Go on, Van Eck. Break my legs and see what happens. Dare him.” Had she really believed a merch could outthink Kaz Brekker? Kaz would get her free and then they’d show this man exactly what whores and canal rats could do. “Console yourself,” she said as Van Eck clutched the ragged corner of the table for support. “Even better men can be bested.

Door’s not locked,” Zerbrowski said. “You’re a cop. How can you leave your car unlocked?” I opened the door and stopped. The passenger seat and floorboard were full. McDonald’s take-out sacks and newspapers filled the seat and flowed onto the floorboards. A piece of petrified pizza and a herd of pop cans filled the rest of the floorboard. “Jesus, Zerbrowski, does the EPA know you’re driving a toxic waste dump through populated areas?” “See why I leave it unlocked. Who would steal it?” He knelt in the seat and began shoveling armfuls of garbage into the backseat.

spouse. Make sure it relates to your primary love language and will help replenish your empty tank. 3. When your spouse responds and meets your need, you will be able to react with not only your will but your emotions as well. Without overreacting, continue positive feedback and affirmation of your spouse at these times. 4. As your marriage begins to truly heal and grow deeper, make sure you don’t “rest on your laurels” and forget your spouse’s love language and daily needs. You’re on the road to your dreams, so stay there! Put appointments into your schedule to assess together how you’re doing. A Personal Word Well, what do you think? Having

You were sharing me with Richard, and he certainly wasn’t just dessert.” “Very true, but he also had ties to me. He is my wolf to call, and that is a different . . . relationship to me, to you, than some stranger.” “I know it was the ardeur, but damn, I’ve never . . .” “You are not a woman of casual lusts. No, ma petite, you are not. And I fear that this Nimir-Raj is no more casual than the rest of your lusts.” He looked so serious when he said it, solemn. “What do you mean?” “If you are truly his Nimir-Ra, then you will be drawn to him. There is no help for it. And truthfully, I cannot fault your taste. He is not as fair of face as our Richard, but he does have certain compensations.” The look on his face made me blush again. I turned to the sink and started brushing my teeth, and he took it as a dismissal. He went out laughing.

There’s a lot of truth to that … We assume that tomorrow won’t be like yesterday. We can’t afford to rest on our laurels. We can’t be complacent. We can’t assume that yesterday’s success translates into tomorrow’s good fortune. Here again, survival. Not “growth” or “brains” or “insight.” The ability to stick around for a long time, without wiping out or being forced to give up, is what makes the biggest difference. This should be the cornerstone of your strategy, whether it’s in investing or your career or a business you own.

NEVER REST ON YOUR LAURELS.

In this, the eightieth year of my life, I should be settling down, taking it easy, resting on laurels. Forget it.

But I want to love you for the rest of your life, too. I want to give you presents like this corset. I want to give you kisses and the best loving you’ve ever had. I want to learn every inch of that gorgeous body of yours, until I know it blind. I want to listen to your dreams and encourage you to go for them. I want to tell you my dreams and know that you’ll have my back, too.

My body has a mind of its own. Apparently it thinks that “new year” is synonymous with “exercise program,” and has been attempting to coerce me into one. Right. Like shifting from one side of the couch to the other isn’t work. “Hey! What about ME?” it asked. “Hello! Down here! The attachment to your neck that is beginning to resemble a marshmallow? Remember? When are we going to join a gym? A girl your age has a lot more than just a reputation to uphold, you know - your butt springs to mind! So when’s it going to be? Huh? Huh?” “Hmmm,” I answered thoughtfully. “How about never? Is never good for you?” “Yeah, ya big coward. That’s the thanks I get for silently squeezing into those jeans all these months? I knew you were a weenie.” “I have a black belt, I’ll have you know!” I retorted. “You might want to show a little respect! There was a day when the only ripples on my body were the ones defining my abdomen!” “‘Ooh, look at me, I’m a martial artist!’ Well, Jean-Claude Van Flab, let’s invite reality in for some tea, shall we? That day was FOUR YEARS AGO. Those laurels you’re resting on are becoming a little more than figurative. People are gonna start calling you ‘Baggie’!” “My, but you’ve gotten cocky in your old age,” I responded, “considering I’M STILL THE BOSS. I own you. You’re mine.” “Gee, boss, I hate to shatter your delusions of adequacy,” it shot back, “but your employee is revolting - and you can take THAT any way you want.” I looked down and sighed. It had a point.

All your life you've done the right thing. All your life you've been the golden boy. But this past year, you've done some things you don't feel good about. Things you probably never thought you'd do." Laurel watched her husband, trying to judge the effect of these words. "Your reasons are your own business," Kyle went on, "but right now, you're overcome with guilt. You think you're about to be exposed. Ruined. You're going to lose the respect of all those patients who think you're Albert Schweitzer. So what do you do? Try to pull the whole house down around you before that happens. You want to show the world that nobody's more disgusted with Warren Shields than Dr. Shields himself." Auster laughed ruefully. "Partner, I know about self-disgust. And I know about confession. I can tell you from experience, it doesn't help the soul one bit. You'll feel better for about five seconds. Then you'll pay for the rest of your life. And if you keep doing what you're doing now, all those bad things you're dreading will come true. Patients won't ever look at you the same way again. You may even lose your right to practice medicine. Is that what you want?

Keep running. No competitive advantage is so powerful that it can let you rest on your laurels. In fact, the ones that appears to do so tends to see to their own demise.

Alexander instinctively recognized that privileges of birth are impediments to power. Be merciless with the past, then—not only with your father and his father but with your own earlier achievements. Only the weak rest on their laurels and dote on past triumphs; in the game of power there is never time to rest.

You could paint yourself in blood and wear leaves in your hair, and I would deny you nothing as long as you came to me when I asked.” He looked at her, piercingly. “You’d look pretty with leaves in your hair.” “What about the Council?” “Leaves aren’t part of the uniform, I’m afraid.” He nipped at her ear. “Though they do like to rest on their laurels.

Be careful, Detective, or the grindylows will nab you!’ The young woman’s voice had a musical quality like the trilling of birdsong. Lavender spun around. Laurel Faa Geddes stood behind them. She had appeared out of nowhere—as silent as a padding cat. One silver-ringed hand rested lightly on her hip. She grinned. Her vivid blue eyes sparkled mischievously. ‘I’m not familiar with the grindylows, Miss Geddes.’ Lavender smiled. ‘Perhaps you’d care to enlighten me?’ She pointed a grimy finger towards the reeds at the edge of the brackish pool. ‘They live down there, in the watter. They’ve long, sinewy arms and grab you to drown you, if you’re not careful.’ ‘Sounds like a few of the trollops I’ve met down the London docks,’ Woods observed.

Lounge in the shade of the luxuriant laurel's beautiful foliage. And now drink sweet water from the cold spring so that your limbs weary with summer toil will find rest in the west wind.

you can’t rest on your laurels. While you may be satisfied with what is going on now in your life (whether it’s family, friends, work or school), you need to look at what is next. If you don’t look for self-improvement, you could easily stagnate and in fact, fall behind.

The moment that you take your first step towards your dream goal is the moment you move forward and away from a fearful past that has been holding you back" Live your life with forward thinking and forward doing....never rest on your laurels or dwell on your failures". There is a whole world of opportunity waiting for you to arrive!

I’ll tell Jamison I can’t keep my life vow. He’ll help me somehow. I’ll get you the best protector in Avalon, I promise, but... it’s not me anymore.’ ‘I don’t want another protector,’ laurel said, her chest feeling hollow, panicked. ‘You don’t understand,’ Tamani said, not looking at her. ‘It;s not about us; I can’t be your fear-gleidhidh... effectively. In hindsight, I should probably never even tried; if I was doing my job right, none of this would have happpened. When I-- when I thought you were dead, I went crazy. I honestly didn’t know myself. I was afraid of who I had become. I cna’t live always knowing that I could lose you at any moment; that I could feel that way again.’ He hesitated. ‘It’s too hard.’ ‘No, no, Tam,’ she said, smoothing his hair, caressing his cheek. ‘You can’t, not now, not--’ ‘I’m not as good as you think I am, Laurel,’ he protested, desperation filling his voice. ‘I don’t trust myself to protect you anymore.’ ‘Then find someone else to fill that role if you have to,’ she said, jaw clenched, ‘but don’t leave me!’ She scooted closer and took his face in her hands, waited while he built up the courage to raise his eyelids at her. ‘Wherever we’re going to go today, I want you with me, and I never want you to leave my side again.’ His ragged breath touched on her face now, her body pulled right against his chest, feeling his essence pull on her like a magnet. ‘I don’t care if you gaurd my and protect me-- all I care is that you love me. I want you to kiss me good night mefore I go to sleep and bid me good morning the moment I wake up. And not just today; tomorrow and the next day and everyday for the rest of my life. Will you come with me Tamani? Be with me?

Resting on your laurels isn’t as comfortable as it sounds. In fact, if you asked him, he would probably say it was more like sitting on thorns.