Undo Button In Life Quotes

The thing is, once something bad happens, there’s no way to undo it. There’s no erase button on life

It is unfair that life doesn’t come with a rewind button; an undo button that can reset time after you make a terrible mistake.

When the chance comes to do a good deed, don’t waste it because it might never come back. The ‎world doesn’t have an (Undo) button; still, you have your conscience, brain, wisdom, and heart to help you do the right thing.

This woman Koharu could undo their coats and take the money from inside the purse. A technique called ‘nakanuki.’ What’s more, the story goes that after she emptied the purse she’d close it again and button up their coat. Incredible skill.” “Really?” “Surrounded by misery, those people laughed at the whole world.

As a young man, the seer became a rake. He drank and fought and made free with the village girls. He became a wagoner, carrying goods and passengers to other villages, an occupation that extended the range of his conquests. A good talker, sure of himself, he tried every girl he met. His method was direct: he grabbed and started undoing buttons. Naturally, he was frequently kicked and scratched and bitten, but the sheer volume of his efforts brought him notable success. He learned that even in the shyest and primmest of girls, the emptiness and loneliness of life in a Siberian village had bred a flickering appetite for romance and adventure. Gregory’s talent was for stimulating those appetites and overcoming all hesitations by direct, good-natured aggression.

and yet nobody of course was more dependent upon others (he buttoned his waistcoat); it had been his undoing. He could not keep out of smoking-rooms, liked colonels, liked golf, liked bridge, and above all women’s society, and the fineness of their companionship, and their faithfulness and audacity and greatness in loving which though it had its drawbacks seemed to him (and the dark, adorably pretty face was on top of the envelopes) so wholly admirable, so splendid a flower to grow on the crest of human life, and yet he could not come up to the scratch, being always apt to see round things (Clarissa had sapped something in him permanently), and to tire very easily of mute devotion and to want variety in love, though it would make him furious if Daisy loved anybody else, furious! for he was jealous, uncontrollably jealous by temperament. He suffered tortures!

And my poor fool is hanged. No, no life. / Why should a dog, a horse, a rat have life, / And thou no breath at all? O, thou wilt come no more. / Never, never, never. Pray you, undo / This button. Thank you, sir. O, O, O, O!

Wanting to touch him, too, she reached for the buttons of his waistcoat. He broke their kiss to stare at her, a sudden sobering awareness in his eyes. “We shouldn’t do this here.” There was no question what “this” meant. There was also no question that he was having second thoughts, pulling away from her. She refused to let him. “Why not? The grooms and the coachman have all gone to bed. And you did say you meant to marry me.” “Yes, but you’re a lady,” he said fiercely. “You deserve better than to be tumbled in a stable.” That was the trouble with Dom. Some part of him still saw her as the poor maiden needing his protection, not as a full-grown woman who had the same needs as he had. Who wanted and yearned just the same as he did. He’d sent her away last night to protect her innocence, and then had avoided her for the next day. She wasn’t giving him the chance to do that again, not now that he’d allowed her a glimpse into his soul. Dragging her hands free of his grip, she went to shut the door to the harness room. “Twelve years ago you decided what I deserved, and I ended up alone. So this time I will decide what I deserve.” Ignoring a twinge of self-consciousness, she faced him and began to undo the front fastenings of her pelisse-robe. “And I deserve this. I deserve you.” His breathing grew labored as he stared at her hands with a searing intensity. “What are you doing, Jane?” “What does it look like?” She slid out of her gown and let it fall to the floor, leaving her standing before him in only her petticoats, corset, and shift. “I’m seducing you.” Dom’s eyes narrowed on her, and she panicked. Was she being too bold? Too shameless? Too daft? She was daft, to be standing half-dressed like this in a stable, when all it would take was a groom coming down from his room above to turn this into the most mortifying night of her life.

While there is something genuinely sweet about capturing special life moments and sharing them with friends and family on social media, there is a balance. It’s fun to share and be social, but not to the detriment of sacrificing our own personal experience of the extraordinary moments of our lives. The bliss and ecstasy of truly experiencing a moment—of experiencing God in a moment—will stay with us for a lifetime. The brief, fleeting elation of being more concerned with capturing the moment with our camera or video, so that we can post it to social media will probably stay with us for a day, maybe two. It isn’t possible to experience the moments of life and receive their many precious gifts, if we are only “partially present” in them. Once every glorious moment of our lives is gone, it’s gone forever. We can’t hit the “undo” or “back” button and try to relive them again. We may get to re-experience “the recorded moment” on social media, but that version will never hold the same beauty, truth and gifts—God, spirit—as the actual one—the ecstatic, blissful moment that just passed us by.

Maybe I'm too jumpy, too untrusting. The thing is, once something bad happens, there's no way to undo it. There's no erase button on life. I can't just click the delete key and start over.

You sure changed your tune mighty fast." Kane's hands were busily tugging his dress shirt from his slacks. His knuckles accidently brushed against Avery's throbbing hard-on causing him to screw his eyes shut as an all-consuming need coursed through his veins. He couldn't help but let out a groan as those same knuckles skated up and down his length again; this time, no doubt, with deliberate intent. Kane knew exactly how to push his buttons and bring his body to life. In a matter of seconds, his husband managed to get him out of his shirt, undo his pants, had his slacks pushed partway down his thighs, and had a hand down the front of his silk boxers.