Quotes About Work

I thought of all my rotten jobs and how glad I was to have them. for a while. then it was a matter of quitting or getting fired. both felt good.

the worst men have the best jobs the best men have the worst jobs or are unemployed or locked in madhouses.

Hank, I can't stand it! You can't stand what, baby? The situation. What situation, babe? Me working and you laying around. All the neighbors think I am supporting you. Hell, I worked and you laid around. That's different. You're a man, I'm a woman. Oh, I didn't know that. I thought you bitches were always screaming for equal rights?

Manny, what are you doing working in auto parts?" "Resting.

I didn't like the eight hour job. I didn't even like the four hour job, even though I couldn't get one.

All right, one of the women said, we know you think you're too good for this job. Too good? Yes, your attitude. You think we didn't notice it? That's when I first learned that it wasn't enough to just do your job, you had to have an interest in it, even a passion for it.

When you didn't know how to do anything that's what you became—a shipping clerk, receiving clerk, stock boy.

Suicide? Jesus Christ, just more work. I felt like sleeping for five years but they wouldn't let me.

hell, I worked HARD all my life!" (they think this is a virtue, but it only proves a man is a damn fool.)

So I drank every night after work, alone, up at my place and I had enough left for a day at the track on Saturday, and life was simple and without too much pain. Maybe without too much reason, but getting away from pain was reasonable enough.

blood money blood money my god they must think I love this like the others but it's for bread and beer and rent blood money

it wasn't enough to just do your job, you had to have an interest in it, even a passion for it.

How in the hell could a man enjoy being awakened at 6:30 a.m. by an alarm clock, leap out of bed, dress, force-feed, shit, piss, brush teeth and hair, and fight traffic to get to a place where essentially you made lots of money for somebody else and were asked to be grateful for the opportunity to do so?

Just like some guys can't taxi or pimp or hustle dope, most guys, and gals too, can't be postal clerks.

Get a man who works for nothing and you get a man who just likes to hang around. I

Being a common laborer all my life at poor and underpaid jobs, I had worked with more black men, known more black men, drank with more black men, fought with more black men than any theoretical liberal with books jammed between the ears.

Yeah, jobs, just for the rent and some food in your belly so you can come back and let them rape your hours, your life, you.

La gente la sera è in libertà provvisoria dalle fabbriche, dai magazzini, dalle stazioni di servizio, dai macelli. Il giorno dopo tornano dentro, ma adesso sono fuori, ubriachi di libertà. Non pensano alla schiavitù della povertà. I ricchi staranno bene finché i poveri non impareranno a costruire bombe atomiche nei loro seminterrati

Any damn fool can beg up some kind of job; it takes a wise man to make it without working. Out here we call it 'hustling.' I'd like to be a good hustler.

And what hurts is the steadily diminishing humanity of those fighting to hold jobs they don't want but fear the alternative worse. People simply empty out. They are bodies with fearful and obedient minds. The color leaves the eye. The voice becomes ugly. And the body. The hair. The fingernails. The shoes. Everything does.

I checked two ads, went to two places and both of the places hired me. The first place smelled like work, so I took the second.

From the cubicle of the job to the cubicle of resting and waiting to return to the job. The job is the center. The job is the sun. The job is the mother's breast. To be jobless is the sin; to be lifeless doesn't matter.

You know, sometimes if a man doesn't believe in what he is doing he can do a much more interesting job because he isn't emotionally caught up in his Cause.

Well, I had been a night janitor once before in San Francisco. You smuggled a bottle of wine in with you, worked like hell, and then when everybody else had gone, you sat looking out at the windows, drinking wine and waiting for the dawn.