Quotes About Bar

I stood in the horizontal and vertical cultures of words like a bar in a graph.

Let me tell you, nothing puts you off your bar-food nachos quicker than a lecture on the color and consistency of slug secretions.

Perhaps the chief cause which has retarded the progress of poetry in America, is the want of that exclusive cultivation, which so noble a branch of literature would seem to require. Few here think of relying upon the exertion of poetic talent for a livelihood, and of making literature the profession of life. The bar or the pulpit claims the greater part of the scholar's existence, and poetry is made its pastime.

Don't tell me, Ford said. Another Ginger Goddess. Nah, Logan grinned. I just wanted to see if you knew how to make a sissy drink. It was good though. Thanks. Sawyer, still sprawled back in his chair, laughed. Okay, that was it. Ford was cutting everyone off, the f***ers.

I was fortunate enough to model, but it was always work for me. It was a way to support myself and finance acting classes.

Sometime after our third round, Ms. Mori cupped her chin with her right hand, elbow on the bar, and allowed me to light her cigarette, which, in my opinion, was one of the most erotic acts of foreplay a man can perform for a woman.

Thus, when the permed chanteuse whose chair I occupied returned, it was with confidence that I stood up and said to Lana, Let's go to the bar. Principle five: statements, not questions, were less likely to lead to no. She shrugged and offered me her hand.

One popular saying was, "The boy who goes into medicine is too lazy for farm or shop, too stupid for the Bar, and too immoral for the pulpit.

Mock mockers after that That would not lift a hand maybe To help good, wise or great To bar that foul storm out, for we Traffic in mockery.

If I had to live my life over, I'd live over a saloon.

Be careful with drinking this Christmas. I got so drunk last night I found myself dancing in a cheesy bar... Or, as you like to call it, delicatessen.

The more games you get, the more confidence you gain. I started to set the bar high for myself.

Let's have an honest conversation about what's going on. A man and a man at a bar looks like mentoring. A man and a woman at a bar looks like dating.

Meu pai era dono de botequim, porém insistia que era preciso escolher as palavras com precisão, e nisso sou como ele. As palavras têm significados — meu pai só estudou até a sétima série, mas até ele sabia disso. Atrás do balcão ele guardava duas coisas pra resolver discussões entre seus clientes: um porrete e um dicionário.

For a good many years now I have practised at the bar; and, if that fact offers no guarantee of unimpeachable veracity it at least furnishes presumptive evidence of a fairly robust moral epidermis. I may not be believed; but the frankest scepticism will leave me undisturbed and unabashed.

People entering the bars on First Avenue gave up their bodies. Then only the demons inhabiting us could be seen. Souls who had wronged each other were brought together here. The rapist met his victim, the jilted child discovered its mother. But nothing could be healed, the mirror was a knife dividing everything from itself, tears of false fellowship dripped on the bar. And what are you going to do to me now? With what, exactly, would you expect to frighten me?

I pushed through the door into Kelly's. Inside they sat with their fat hands around their beers while the jukebox sang softly to itself. You'd think they'd found out how, by sitting still and holding their necks just so, to look down into lost worlds.

The Vine had no jukebox, but a real stereo continually playing tunes of alcoholic self-pity and sentimental divorce.

while the jukebox sang softly to itself.

There's a bar around the corner. Lemme buy you a drink before the war.

Quotation, like much better things, has its abuses. One may quote till one compiles. The ancient lawyers used to quote at the bar till they had stagnated their own cause.

The city outside there has no name yet, we don't know if it will remain outside the novel or whether the whole story will be contained within its inky blackness. I know only that this first chapter is taking a while to break free of the station and the bar: it is not wise for me to move away from here where they might still come looking for me, or for me to be seen by other people with this burdensome suitcase.

There is someone looking through the befogged glass, he opens the glass door of the bar, everything is misty, inside, too, as if seen by nearsighted eyes, or eyes irritated by coal dust.

He pours the drinks for the lost dreamers, eternally swabbing the bar while listening to their stories, ever listening, and, yes, in the end has his own tale. It is my chance to give the performance of a lifetime. After all, I know the character by heart.