My house is really clean. It's a really big house so I have three ladies who come in and clean it twice a week, but let's just say that, in between times, maybe it's not quite so clean.
I'm as clean as a whistle.
I cook and wash, cook and wash. When I am done, the kitchen is like a mirror.
The atonement in Jesus Christ's blood is perfect; there isn't anything that can be added to it. It is spotless, impeccable, flawless. It is perfect as God is perfect.
Too clear, too clean. The problem was precision, perfection.
To see how Christ was prophesied and described therein, consider and mark, how that the kid or lamb must be with out spot or blemish; and so was Christ only of all mankind, in the sight of God and of his law.
I have noticed that rooms which are extra clean feel extra cold
If you want to stay perfect, you cannot go undefeated with a blemish on your record.
I'm as clean as the days are long.
It's very clean in our house.
If a white cloth is stained even with a small spot, the stain appears very ugly indeed. So the smallest fault of a holy man becomes painfully prominent.
I'm as pure as the driven slush.
The holy land was supposed to be spotless, a serious equivalent of Disneyland in which not a single candy wrapper is to stay on the ground for more than a few minutes.
I'm a great cleaner. I'm actually kind of addicted to cleaning. I could clean anything.
When I used to have a show on French TV, people would ask me how my jacket stayed spotless while cooking. Your whole area has to be clean - and you have to keep it that way.
