Worn-Out Quotes

They were pretty tired by now of course; but not what I’d call bitterly tired – only slow and feeling very dreamy and tired as one does when one is coming to the end of a long day in the open.

This that is tormented and very tired, tortured with restraints like a madman, this heart.

But we were all feeling that bit shagged and fagged and fashed, it having been an evening of some small energy expenditure.

I have been tight as a tick! Fried as a mink! Stiff as a goat!

Old ugly is better than old nothin'

There is no such thing as an empty word, only one that is worn out yet remains full.

The nicest Father's Day surprise of all for Dad would be if you handed him a box, and he unwrapped it, and there, inside, sitting on a bed of folded tissue, was the pair of his undershorts that somebody threw away six months ago (without asking Dad) because they had reached the stage where they were 3 percent undershorts and 97 percent holes. Dad misses those undershorts. They were his Faithful Undershorts Companion.

I am worn to a raveling.

He is an old glove, but he looked like the old Glove.

I got tired, I told him. Not worn out, but worn through. Like one of those wives who wakes up one morning and says I can't bake any more bread.

I hadn't bargained for this. I didn't think it would be like this - shabby clothes, worn-out shoes, circles under your eyes, your hair getting straight and lanky, the way people look at you. ... I didn't think it would be like this

You have played, (I think) And broke the toys you were fondest of, And are a little tired now; Tired of things that break, and— Just tired. So am I.

There's so much more to Colombia than drug trafficking, you have no idea. They're a bit worn out by the association.

To be worn out is to be renewed.

Life had been a suit I'd only put on for special occasions. Most of the time I kept it in the back of my closet, forgetting it was there. We were meant to die when it was barely stitched anymore, when the elbows and knees were stained with grass and mud, shoulder pads uneven from people hugging you all the time, downpours and blistering sun, the fabric faded, buttons gone.

I only know that I feel tired, antiquated; I feel as though I had been living a long, long time.

Even sound seemed to fail in this air, like the air was worn out with carrying sounds so long.

After a while, a joke, if you say it too much, just becomes contrived, or fake-sounding.

I've had to replace parts in the basses when they've gotten old or worn out, so everything isn't absolutely original.

A finished product is one that has already seen its better days.

I feel thin, sort of stretched, like butter scraped over too much bread.

I talk to my mates about our kids, being too tired and being worn out.

By the time I get to the locker room, I'm done.

My life is like my shoes, worn out by service.

Yes, threadbare seem his songs, to lettered ken - they were worn threadbare next the hearts of men.