What Are You Doing Today Quotes

Whether in business or in life, you can be civil and get ahead. Whatever your age or circumstance, you can master civility. So what are you doing today to connect with others? What kind of legacy are you leaving? Are you lifting people up or holding them down?
In each moment we get to choose who we want to be.
Who do you want to be? ~ Christine Porath

I love my parents. But I'm almost 28 and it's not fun to be asked, 'What are you doing today? What do you want for dinner? When are you going to be home?' It just makes you feel like a kid. It's this juxtaposition of feeling annoyed and really lucky to have people who love you so much. ~ Jonah Hill

Today is the tomorrow you were optimistic about yesterday. What are you doing today to make tomorrow as rewarding as you had hoped today would be? ~ Zig Ziglar

There was a widespread indignation in the American media. They were saying, 'How can you make a movie during an election that's about politics? What are you doing? Are you trying to influence people's lives?' To which my response was, 'Well, I hope so.' ~ John Sayles

Which brings us to a little book that may provide a clue to the cure. My wife got it as a gift from a friend. It is titled Porn for Women. It's a picture book of hunks, photographed in all their chiseled, muscle-bound, testosterone-marinated, PG-rated glory. Lots of naked chests and low-cut jeans, complete with tousled hair and beckoning eyes. And they are ALL doing housework. There's a picture of a well-cut Adonis, and he's loading the washing machine. The caption reads: "As soon as I finish the laundry, I'll do the grocery shopping. And I'll take the kids with me so you can relax." There's another hunk, the cover guy, vacuuming the floor. A particularly athletic-looking man peers up from the sports section and declares, "Ooh, look, the NFL playoffs are today. I bet we'll have no trouble parking at the crafts fair". Porn for Women. Available at a marriage near you. ~ Anonymous

When you're big you don't need a reason to sweat. You don't, right? My friends cannot grab a hold of this concept. They come up to me all the time like Jeez! What have you been doing? What are ya jumpin rope in the attic?! Well, I peeled an orange.. about an hour ago. Why, what's up? ~ Kevin James

Peter pushed off from the roof and stalked a few feet away, his back to her. "Please tell me this is all some kind of a sick joke."
"It's the truth. All of it. That's why hunters are after me."
"How did they find out?" Peter asked, swiveling toward her now.
"I think Beck ratted me out. I went to his house this morning and told him what had happened. He was furious, Peter. I've never seen anyone that angry."
"Duh! Now there's a surprise," her friend replied sarcastically. "I saw the way he looked at you at your dad's funeral. Of course he'd be mad. You're about the only one on the planet who doesn't realize how he feels about you."
"He never said anything," she retorted.
"Hey, we guys don't blurt out that kind of stuff," he replied. "It's against the man code. Beck may never have said how he felt, but everything he did for you should have been a big clue. I mean, come on, how slow are you?"
She glowered at her friend. "I figured he was doing it because of my father."
"Maybe, but the guy is really into you, Riley."
"No way. If he'd liked me, he wouldn't have blown me off and - "
"Ancient history, girl!" he countered. "You were, what, fifteen? Your dad would have torn him apart if he'd touched you. Beck had no other choice."
"He didn't have to be so mean."
"God, will you listen to yourself?" Peter retorted.
"You have no idea how much he hurt me," she shot back.
"Give it up, will you? You're my best friend, but ~ Jana Oliver

The door creaked as it began to open.
Gray moved like lightning, slapping his left palm against the door and slamming it shut before it had
opened more than a fraction of an inch. "Hey!" a woman squawked indignantly from the other side.
"This one's occupied," he said hoarsely, not missing a beat with his plunging hips. "Go somewhere else."
Faith couldn't say anything. Her eyes widened with alarm, but all she could do was look helplessly up at
him.
Gray's lips drew back over his teeth and his head dropped forward as he began hammering faster. His
face was flushed, satisfaction only a few moments away.
Faith shuddered wildly as the coil of tension suddenly released and the fierce, pulsing flood of sensation
swept through her. Shivering and pushing hard against him, she buried her face against his chest and bit
his shirt to muffle her gasping cries.
He kept his hand flat against the door, gripping her bottom with his right hand to anchor himself. He
shoved hard into her, twice, three times, again, then bucked violently. His head fell back and a harsh,
guttural cry rumbled up from his chest.
There was an insistent banging on the door. "What are you doing in there?" the woman said in shrill,
grating tones. "That's the lady's room! You aren't supposed to be in there!"
Slowly Gray's head came up. The expression in his eyes was indescribable, as if he couldn't believe
what was happening. He took a de ~ Linda Howard

WGrayson7: yeah. what are you doing up at 1:33:48?
willupleasebequiet: waiting to see if 1:33:49 is any better. you? ~ John Green

What in Tink's contractual hell are you doing here? ~ Kim Harrison

Life is given to us to be lived...Most of us spend an entire lifetime preparing to live." What is it that you are doing ...LIVING or PREPARING TO LIVE at some point ! Are you waiting for the IF AND WHEN THAT HAPPENS or Are you living NOW ! A thought that changed my life forever !! ~ Abha Maryada Banerjee

What are you doing out here all alone?" Alex didn't hide the surprise in her tone as she stepped into her friend's path. The question caught Ella unaware and, with an extraordinarily loud shriek, she jumped into the air, terrified. The sight was so comical that Alex doubled over with welcome laughter. When she straightened again, Ella was holding her hand to her chest, waiting for her heart to stop racing. She said sternly, "That wasn't as amusing as you seem to think." Alex smirked at her friend. "That's because you were on the wrong end of the hilarity. You are incredibly well met, Ella. ~ Sarah MacLean

Life's most persistent and urgent question is, 'What are you doing for others?' ~ Martin Luther King, Jr.

What I like doing best is Nothing."
"How do you do Nothing," asked Pooh after he had wondered for a long time.
"Well, it's when people call out at you just as you're going off to do it, 'What are you going to do, Christopher Robin?' and you say, 'Oh, Nothing,' and then you go and do it.
It means just going along, listening to all the things you can't hear, and not bothering."
"Oh!" said Pooh. ~ A.A. Milne

You see, King, we have a legend - I used to believe that it was all fairy-tale rubbish and empty smoke. It is a legend about how such things as war and death and despair were common in our country at one time. These terrible words, which we have long since stopped using in our language, can be read in collections of our old tales, and they sound awful to us and even a little ridiculous. Today I've learned that these tales are all true ... But now tell me, don't you have in your soul a sort of intimation that you're not doing the right thing? Don't you have a yearning for bright, serene gods, for sensible and cheerful leaders and mentors? Don't you ever dream in your sleep about another, more beautiful life where nobody is envious of others, where reason and order prevails, where people treat other people only with cheerfulness and considerations? ~ Hermann Hesse

All of a sudden he stripped off his wet suit. It was winter and quite cold.
"What are you doing?" I called out.
He stood in the icy water. "This is how dedicated I am to having a boy baby," he said, with a mischievous grin.
I said, "I think you're just supposed to keep them cool, not actually freeze them off."
He laughed. ~ Terri Irwin

Someone asked me very recently why I have 8 million views on TED - "your work resonates, what are you doing?" What I think my contribution is, what I do well, is I name experiences that are very universal that no one really talks about. That's the researcher in me; that's really part of being a grounded theory researcher - putting names to concepts and experiences that people have. That's the researcher part. ~ Brene Brown

I don't know if you realize this, but there are some researchers - doctors - who are giving this kind of drug to volunteers, to see what the effects are, and they're doing it the proper scientific way, in clean white hospital rooms, away from trees and flowers and the wind, and they're surprised at how many of the experiments turn sour. They've never taken any sort of psychedelic themselves, needless to say. Their volunteers - they're called 'subjects,' of course - are given mescaline or LSD and they're all opened up to their surroundings, very sensitive to color and light and other people's emotions, and what are they given to react to? Metal bed-frames and plaster walls, and an occasional white coat carrying a clipboard. Sterility. Most of them say afterward that they'll never do it again. ~ Alexander Shulgin

What. Are. You. Doing. Here?" Day snapped each word this time.

"You're not the only one that can track your lover," God said smugly while holding up his phone with the application still open.

Day's mouth fell open and the shade of red he turned was priceless. He decided to get rid of their excess company and take Day back with him. God looked at Day's date and put on his best run-for-your-life face and spat menacingly. "Leave. Now."

"No," Day spoke before his date could move. "You don't have to go anywhere, Mick."

God looked back to Day and spoke in a harsh growl without moving his eyes from his partner's. "Mick, I say leave now. He says to stay. Whatever will you do?"

Mick turned and ran so fast his image turned into a blur.
"That takes care of that," God said.

Day pushed God out of his space and turned to walk away without another word. ~ A.E. Via

Good morning, good morning, good morning," Loki chirped, wheeling in a table covered with silver domes.
"What are you doing?" I asked, squinting at him. He'd pulled up the shades. I was tired a hell, and I was not happy.
"I thought you two lovebirds would like breakfast," Loki said. "So I had the chef whip you up something fantastic." As he set up the table in the sitting area, he looked over at us. "Although you two are sleeping awfully far apart for newly weds."
"Oh my god." I groaned and pulled the covers over my head.
"You know, I think you're being a dick," Tove told him as he got out of bed. "But I'm starving. So I'm willing to overlook it. This time."
"A dick?" Loki pretended to be offended. "I'm merely worried about your health. If your bodies aren't used to strenous activities, like a long night of love making, you could waste away if you don't get plenty of protein and rehydrate. I'm concerned for you."
"Yes we both believe that's why you're here," Tove said sarcastically and took a glass of orange juice that Loki had just poured for him.
"What about you princess?" Loki's gaze cut to me as he filled another glass.
"I'm not hungry."I sighed and sat up.
"Oh really?" Loki arched an eyebrow. "Does that mean that last night-"
"It means last night is none of your business," I snapped. ~ Amanda Hocking

But what we did yesterday isn't ever really the point or the question.The question is, are you open, by virtue of your relationship with this new Lover of yours, to being challenged in new ways, invited in new ways, to participate in what God is doing? The overwhelming testimony of the Bible is that too many finish growing long before they have finished living, and so they complete their days sitting on their assets. That's hardly the abundant life that Jesus came to give. ~ Richard Dahlstrom

Hi!
My name is Nao, and I am a time being. Do you know what a time being is? Well, if you give me a moment, I will tell you.
A time being is someone who lives in time, and that means you, and me, and every one of us who is, or was, or ever will be. As for me, right now I am sitting in a French maid cafe in Akiba Electricity Town, listening to a sad Chanson that is playing sometime in your past, which is also my present, writing this and wondering about you, somewhere in my future. And if you're reading this, then maybe by now you're wondering about me, too.
You wonder about me.
I Wonder about you.
Who are you and what are you doing? ~ Ruth Ozeki

Our historical pastime is the direct satisfaction of inflicting pain. There are lines in Nekrassov describing how a peasant lashes a horse on the eyes, 'on its meek eyes,' everyone must have seen it. It's peculiarly Russian. He describes how a feeble little nag has foundered under too heavy a load and cannot move. The peasant beats it, beats it savagely, beats it at last not knowing what he is doing in the intoxication of cruelty, thrashes it mercilessly over and over again. 'However weak you are, you must pull, if you die for it.' The nag strains, and then he begins lashing the poor defenceless creature on its weeping, on its 'meek eyes.' The frantic beast tugs and draws the load, trembling all over, gasping for breath, moving sideways, with a sort of unnatural spasmodic action- it's awful in Nekrassov. But that only a horse, and God has horses to be beaten. ~ Fyodor Dostoyevsky

What are you doing sister? / Killing swine. ~ William Shakespeare

Nature is doing wonderful things for you; what are you doing for the nature? ~ Mehmet Murat Ildan

What are you doing?" I ask, astonished.
"It's called a hug, Toy." He says it with gentle mockery.
He's hugging me to make me feel better.
His arms tighten around me, and I melt into him before I can stop myself. His body is so strong, his grip so firm. I rest my head on his shoulder and close my eyes and breathe in his warm, masculine scent, the faint whiff of cologne and sweat and male musk. Then I circle his waist with my hands and hug him back.
I hug my kidnapper.
I hug my torturer.
I just want to feel better about everything, I want to leave my nightmare behind even if it's just for a few moments of make-believe, so I pretend that he's none of those things. I keep my eyes closed tight and pretend that he's my boyfriend, my lover, my protector. And in a way he is. I have no doubt that if anyone tried to harm me, Joshua would kill them or die trying. He's the only man in my life. The only man who's ever given me an orgasm. When we have sex now, it feels like making love, and he always, always makes sure that I come first.
Why couldn't he have been like this when he first took me? I think I'd have been in love with him by now.
He begins stroking my hair, gently, fingers trailing through the tresses.
"This isn't so bad," he murmurs, and I'm not sure if he's talking to himself or me. And a little bit of me melts. This is probably the first time he's ever hugged anyone, and, heart-breakingly, the first time he's ever been hu ~ Ginger Talbot

What are you doing?" Dengo would ask him. "Observing," father would say. "But how long can you observe the same thing?" "Forever. ~ Neal Stephenson

What are you doing extra? That's what counts. That's when you're working hard - when you're going above and over what's expected of you" (102). - Tony Gonzalez, "The Giant Within ~ Denzel Washington

The Eleven king looked sternly upon Thorin, when he was brought before him, and asked him many questions. But Thorin would only say that he was starving.
"Why did you and your folk three times try to attack my people at their merrymaking?" asked the king.
"We did not attack them," answered Thorin, "we came to beg because we were starving."
"Where are your friends now, and what are they doing?"
"I don't know, but I expect that they're all starving in the forest."
"What were you doing in the forest?"
"Looking for food and drink, because we were starving."
"And what brought you into the forest at all?" asked the king angrily.
At that Thorin shut his mouth and would not say another word. ~ J.R.R. Tolkien

If there is a problem somewhere, this is what happens. Three people will try to do something concrete to settle the issue. Ten people will give a lecture analyzing what the three are doing. One hundred people will commend or condemn the ten for their lecture. One thousand people will argue about the problem. And one person-only one- will involve himself so deeply in the true solution that he is too busy to listen to any of it. Now ... which person are you? ~ Elias Chacour

You are interfering in my business, warlock."
Magnus spat blood into his face. "You are torturing a child in my city, Shadowhunter. [ ... ] I thought we were playing a game where we said what the other person was and what we were doing." Magnus told him. "Did I get it wrong? Can I guess again? are you breaking your own sacred Laws, asshole? ~ Cassandra Clare

God can communicate to us through powerful feelings. They have an energy that impels us to action. They grip our mind and will not let us go.

What is calling you? What has the voice of God been whispering to you through the desires of your heart? To what are you drawn and constantly compelled to do? It could be that God is opening the eyes of your heart to see something that no one else is seeing, and to do something that others aren't doing. If that is true, then move forward and let God worry about the how. ~ Tom Payne

Shareholder value is the result of you doing a great job, watching your share price go up, your shareholders win, and dividends increasing. What happens when you have increasing shareholder value? You're delivering better employees to their communities and they can give back. Communities are winning because employees are involved in mentoring and all these other things. Customers are winning because you're providing them new products. ~ Jack Welch

I get so excited when I hear people saying their greater is coming. After all, I'm always telling everyone to find the positive. Yes, your greater is coming, but what are you doing to prepare for it? Are you putting in more time/hours? Are you getting professional help? Are you studying? Are you praying? Are you making room? Are you saving? Are you making positive changes? Or are you just sitting back waiting for this greater? Greater can only be achieved by faith AND works. ~ J'son M. Lee

Sergei took off his seatbelt and climbed between the seats into the back. "What are you doing?" "Putting myself where I can shoot them. Obviously." "You might want a seatbelt." "Can't shoot with one." "And if I wreck?" "Don't wreck." "Sergei, ~ L.A. Witt

O my soul, what are you doing? Are you not aware that God sees you always? You can never hide yourself from His sight. O Father, have pity on us because we are blind and in darkness. Drive out the darkness and give me light. Melt the ice of my self-love and kindle in me the fire of Your charity. ~ St. Catherine Of Siena

Rosamond, what are you doing here?"
"You invited me for the weekend, don't you remember?"
"But how could you be so cruelly literal, darling? ~ Stephen Tennant

I woke up and you weren't here."

Her eyes drift over my arms and chest, laden with weaponry. "What are you doing?"

"I'm leaving."

Her brows pinch. "Where . . . where are you going?"

When I speak, I barely recognize my own voice.

"I'm going to find your father, and then I'm going to kill him. Badly. I thought it'd be rude not to ask if you'd like to come along and watch. ~ Emma Chase

Are you going to let what someone might say prevent you from doing what you must do? ~ Eric Greitens

Sloane gave him a questioning look as Dex returned his phone to his pocket before walking over to the window and knocking on it. "What are you doing?" Sloane asked. "I'm wondering if this is bulletproof." "Why?" "Because I want to know if I can shoot my way through it before trying to jump out." He turned to the couch and pointed to it. "Do you think if I dramatically throw myself onto this like one of those old Hollywood starlets it'll have the same effect? I feel like I need to have some kind of bitch fit right now. ~ Charlie Cochet

And then the world stopped and there was nothing but Rose as she slipped from the crowd to stand before him. Grey forgot about Lady Devane. He forgot about everyone but her.
She wore a mask, but even if he hadn't recognized the hair and the dress he would have known it was her. He knew her scent, the shape of her mouth. He recognized her by the way his heart rejoiced at her nearness.
She stared at him, her mask doing nothing to conceal her wonder. "Why are you here?"
Grey smiled down at her. Did she notice that he'd pinned the rosette from the gown she'd worn their first night together to his lapel? "Because I hold you above my horse, my fortune, and my pride."
Her brow puckered. "I beg your pardon?"
"Those were the traits you said you required in a husband, were they not?"
Her face relaxed, and he thought he saw a glimmer of understanding in her dark eyes. "Yes. I believe they were. You came here just to tell me that?"
He laughed. Her face was so bright below the edge of her mask, her eyes damp and warm. It broke is heart-and buoyed it as well-to know he was responsible for all of that. "No. I came here to dance with my wife. And to do this." He took her face in his hands and kissed her in front of the entire ballroom. He didn't care about the gasps or that everyone could see. He didn't care what they said or whether or not his behavior was proper.
He was a duke, damn it. A scandalous one at that.
When he lifted his head, Rose's e ~ Kathryn Smith

- What ... what are you doing here? I thought you had to run some
errands.
- And let an opportunity like this slip by? No chance. Everything in
the world, except you, can wait 'til tomorrow. ~ J.M. Colail

No. No!" he says.
"I ... " He looks wildly around the room. For inspiration? For divine intervention? I don't know.
"You can't go. Ana, I love you!"
"I love you, too, Christian, it's just - "
"No ... no!" he says in desperation and puts both hands on his head. "Christian ... "
"No," he breathes, his eyes wide with panic, and suddenly he drops to his knees in front of me, head bowed, long-fingered hands spread out on his thighs. He takes a deep breath and doesn't move. What?
"Christian, what are you doing?"
He continues to stare down, not looking at me.
"Christian! What are you doing?"
My voice is high-pitched. He doesn't move.
"Christian, look at me!" I command in panic. His head sweeps up without hesitation, and he regards me passively with his cool gray gaze - he's almost serene ... expectant.
Holy Fuck ... Christian. The submissive. ~ E.L. James

In the aftermath of loss, we do what we've always done, although we are changed, maybe more afraid. We do what we can, as well as we can. My pastor, Veronica, one Sunday told the story of a sparrow lying in the street with its legs straight up in the air, sweating a little under its feathery arms. A warhorse walks up to the bird and asks, "What on earth are you doing?" The sparrow replies, "I heard the sky was falling, and I wanted to help." The horse laughs a big, loud, sneering horse laugh, and says, "Do you really think you're going to hold back the sky, with those scrawny little legs?" And the sparrow says, "One does what one can." So what can I do? Not much. Mother Teresa said that none of us can do great things, but we can do small things with great love. This reminder has saved me many times. ~ Anne Lamott

They'd followed him up and had seen him open the door of a room not far from the head of the stairs. He hadn't so much as glanced their way but had gone in and shut the door. She'd walked on with Martha, past that door, down the corridor and around a corner to their chamber.
Drawing in a tight-faintly excited-breath, she set out, quietly creeping back to the corner, her evening slippers allowing her to tiptoe along with barely a sound.
Nearing the corner, she paused and glanced back along the corridor. Still empty. Reassured, she started to turn, intending to peek around the corner-
A hard body swung around the corner and plowed into her.
She stumbled back. Hard hands grabbed her, holding her upright.
Her heart leapt to her throat. She looked up,saw only darkness.
She opened her mouth-
A palm slapped over her lips. A steely arm locked around her-locked her against a large, adamantine male body; she couldn't even squirm.
Her senses scrambled. Strength, male heat, muscled hardness engulfed her.
Then a virulent curse singed her ears.
And she realized who'd captured her.
Panic and sheer fright had tensed her every muscle; relief washed both away and she felt limp. The temptation to sag in his arms, to sink gratefully against him, was so nearly overwhelming that it shocked her into tensing again.
He lowered his head so he could look into her face. Through clenched teeth, he hissed, "What the hell are you doing?"
His ~ Stephanie Laurens

I've learned to ask people, "You're doing very well so what are you doing? Let me tell other people." So what's made me who I am, my experience. ~ Bernie Siegel

Start ringing things up then. This won't take long."
"Which ones?"
"I don't care." I push some at her. "These."
"These?" She looked dubious.
"Why not these?"
She glanced at Ray. "'Cause if that's your man, I'd say you can leave these off."
"Oh, no, you didn't." Ray said.
"What's this shit?" Ray demanded, looking at the saleclerk.
"Honey, truth hurts, but ain't no way you're a Magnum."
"Well, I ain't no medium!"
The clerk smiled. "Yeah, but I was being generous."
"What are you doing?" The clerk demanded as Ray grabbed another box. "I ain't rung those up yet."
Ray pulled out a foil package and tossed the box back on the counter. "So ring it up."
She arched an eyebrow, but didn't bother, maybe because she was watching him unbutton his fly. I caught his wrist. "What are you doing?"
"Proving a point."
"Not in the middle of the store, you're not."
"Ain't nobody here," the cashier reminded me. "And ain't no way he's filling that thing out. ~ Karen Chance

What are you doing here?" he asked.
"I live here ... " I answered sarcastically. ~ Terry Pratchett

When he didn't move away, Sidney lowered her voice. "What are you doing?" Her sister and his
brother were standing close by. Yet here he was, quite obviously leaning in toward her.
He seemed amused by her question. "You're always asking me that. I'm starting a conversation.
Again." He winked.
Okay ... "And how much have you had to drink tonight, Agent Roberts?"
He laughed as if this was the funniest thing, and touched her chin. "Always busting my balls,
Sinclair. ~ Julie James

What the hell are you doing here?" Ajax asked.
"Might ask you the same thing, 'cept the hell part would be a lot more relevant." --Vernon Kraft from The Ragtime Coven (coming soon!) ~ Bruce Jenvey