Ringing Quotes

At home, I’m lucky if I can write three or four hours before the phone starts ringing and the kids want to go to soccer.

I use the traditional phone noise that’s built into iOS. I like an actual ringing sound.

My phone has been ringing off the hook. I have like 17 cell phones and pagers.

Let the great world spin for ever down the ringing grooves of change.

I don’t want a door bell. I don’t want anyone ringing my door bell… seems to be intrusive. They can call me on their cell phones.

My hands were constantly blistered or bloody; my ears were always ringing. I tore through drumheads and drumsticks like there was no tomorrow.

As a little boy, I apparently had a predilection for undoing latch gates, running up pathways and ringing doorbells – and then running off again and away before the door was opened behind me.

It’s surprising how you can behave like a 16-year-old in your 60s, or a 17-year-old in your 70s. You know, it’s exactly the same. You fall in love with somebody, you start worrying why the phone is not ringing and thinking, ‘Can I ring him?’

You reach a point in your career when the weeks turn into a month or more of the phone not ringing.

I have turned down so many endorsements. My phone never stops ringing.

When you write about a Muslim woman, like I did with my previous novels – ‘Minaret’, for example, which is about a woman who starts to wear the hijab – it sets all the alarm bells ringing.

I don’t see myself doing slapstick movies or being a part of them, even if they get the box office ringing. It’s not my space; I haven‘t reached that point.

My experience in Amsterdam is that cyclists ride where the hell they like and aim in a state of rage at all pedestrians while ringing their bell loudly, the concept of avoiding people being foreign to them.

It was the craziest period of my life: I was getting ready for the baccalaureate, the phone was ringing off the hook, I visited the Real facilities, I met Alex Ferguson.

I don’t know what caused my tinnitus, but I started to become aware of a very low ringing noise in my right ear, which is now constantly there.

Before, I would literally watch people ringing me trying to help me, but I wouldn’t take the calls. It’s the worst place to be, having that fear that it’s never going to get better. You have to talk.

‘La Marseillaise’ sounds best ringing around a packed sports stadium. Its lyrics evoke revolution, conflict, taking up arms, preparing for the fight – everything my music does not! Even in our largely peaceful times, it retains its rousing, martial air that gives it a power that hasn’t diminished.

I believe an artist dies twice. The first time, it’s just terrible – I’ve been there when the phone isn’t ringing for years.

I don’t go to see bands any more because I’ve got tinnitus, so I have to avoid loud music. You get used to it, but when it’s quiet you hear a constant ringing.

I like to be busy. I once shared an agent with the late Sir John Gielgud, who, at 96, was apparently still ringing up, saying, ‘Hello, Gielgud here, any work?’ Good on him. We’ve got to keep working. If we retire, there’ll be nobody to play the old wrinklies, and that would be a dreadful shame.

The thing I wasn’t prepared for was when I wasn’t in Motley Crue anymore. ‘Cause as much as my phone was ringing, it stopped ringing.

If you’re ringing my doorbell eight times every three minutes and hiding behind my garbage cans, I will call the police. That is literally harassment.

It wasn’t not being famous any more, or even not being a recording artist. It was having nobody who needed me, no phones ringing, nothing to do. Because I’m still too young to do nothing. I was only 24 when all that happened. Now, at 40, I feel I’ve got more to give than I ever have.

The phone’s not ringing off the hook, but that’s ok by me. I feel very fortunate, work to me has become a kind of hobby.

Getting up early means I can write for a few hours before anyone starts phoning me or ringing the doorbell.

What I have now are good problems of trying to decide and what I really want to do is good work next. My phone’s ringing a lot more and I’ve got nine lines so when it doesn’t ring, it’s very frustrating.

Once, I was going to a film event, and someone told me not to wear high heels to it. They said that it might intimidate the men. For some reason, I was ready to take their cue, but about an hour later, something in my head started ringing, and I thought, ‘That is the worst advice anybody‘s ever given me.’

I ate supper after Dad saw the evening shift down the shaft, and I went to sleep to the ringing of a hammer on steel and the dry hiss of an arc welder at the little tipple machine shop during the hoot-owl shift.

I was chased by the press and the doorbell used to keep ringing throughout the night.

I remember if the telephone rang after 9 o’clock in the house, my mother would say, ‘Who’s ringing at this time?’ We just wouldn’t answer the phone.

The fishing is a great relief for me. When I’m out there’s no cell phone ringing. I’m out there fishing with bears. I’m in the middle of God‘s country catching tons of fish. I just absolutely love it.

The house burned an hour before midnight on the last day of April. The wild, distant ringing of the fire bells woke George Hazard. He stumbled through the dark hallway, then upstairs to the mansion tower, and stepped outside into the narrow balcony.

You really want to keep ringing the changes – you hope that your work and your choices make people excited about where you’re going next and that that might be somewhere unexpected.

A man walks on through life – with the external call ringing in his ears but with no response stirring in his heart, and then suddenly, without any warning, the Spirit taps him on the shoulder. What happens? He turns ’round. The word ‘repentance‘ means ‘turning ’round.’ He repents and believes and is saved.

If I were John Bolton, I’d take great consolation in the words of my principal supporter on the committee, who gave a ringing endorsement, which was, There is no evidence that he has broken any laws.

I was just was tired of bending down, putting my hands in dirty water, ringing out a mop. So, I said, ‘There’s gotta be a better way.’

Bootleggers quake in fear of me ringing them on a Sunday afternoon. I call after dinner, usually.

I don’t know about other writers, but for myself, to write I must be relatively quiet – it’s very difficult to write with the telephone and the doorbell ringing and conversation going on; I’m not that good a writer to write through all that!

If I play hard to get, soon the phone stops ringing altogether.

So I got home, and the phone was ringing. I picked it up, and said ‘Who’s speaking please?’ And a voice said ‘You are.’