Dirty Thirty Party Quotes

Thirty-nine-year-old moderately successful Human Resources Director. Interests include regency romances, reality TV, and baking large novelty birthday cakes for other people's children. Hobbies include drinking Tia Maria and eating Turkish delight in the bath and dining out with her mum and dad. Wanted to be a ballerina but didn't end up with a ballerina body; however, has been told she is an impressive dirty dancer when drunk. Knows her wine, so please just hand the wine list over. Godmother to nine children, member of two book clubs, Social Club Manager for the Australian Payroll Officers' Association. Suffers from a severe blushing problem but is not shy and will probably end up better friends with your friends than you, which you'll find highly irritating after we break up. Has recently become so worried about meeting the love of her life and having children before she reaches menopause that she has cried piteously in the middle of the night. But otherwise is generally quite cheerful and has on at least three separate occasions that she knows of been described as 'Charming'. Yep, that about summed it up. What a catch. ~ Liane Moriarty

Cellar Christians!" Foyle exclaimed. He and Robin peered through the window. Thirty worshipers of assorted faiths were celebrating the New Year with a combined and highly illegal service. The twenty-fourth century had not yet abolished God, but it had abolished organized religion.
"No wonder the house is man-trapped," Foyle said. "Filthy practices like that. Look, they've got a priest and a rabbi, and that thing behind them is a crucifix."
"Did you ever stop to think what swearing is?" Robin asked quietly. "You say 'Jesus' and 'Jesus Christ.' Do you know what that is?"
"Just swearing, that's all. Like 'ouch' or 'damn.'"
"No, it's religion. You don't know it, but there are two thousand years of meaning behind words like that."
"This is no time for dirty talk," Foyle said impatiently. "Save it for later. Come on. ~ Alfred Bester

A concrete example of this mechanism is found in one of the most alarming phenomena of the last thirty years: the enormous increase in the police force of all countries. The increase of population has inevitably rendered it necessary. However accustomed we may be to it, the terrible paradox should not escape our minds that the population of a great modern city, in order to move about peaceably and attend to its business, necessarily requires a police force to regulate the circulation. But it is foolishness for the party of "law and order" to imagine that these "forces of public authority" created to preserve order are always going to be content to preserve the order that that party desires. Inevitably they will end by themselves defining and deciding on the order they are going to impose- which, naturally, will be that which suits them best. ~ Ortega Y Gasset

I first met Winston Churchill in the early summer of 1906 at a dinner party to which I went as a very young girl. Our hostess was Lady Wemyss and I remember that Arthur Balfour, George Wyndman, Hilaire Belloc and Charles Whibley were among the guests…

I found myself sitting next to this young man who seemed to me quite different from any other young man I had ever met. For a long time he seemed sunk in abstraction. Then he appeared to become suddenly aware of my existence. He turned on me a lowering gaze and asked me abruptly how old I was. I replied that I was nineteen. "And I," he said despairingly, "am thirty-two already. Younger than anyone else who counts, though, "he added, as if to comfort himself. Then savagely: "Curse ruthless time! Curse our mortality. How cruelly short is this allotted span for all we must cram into it!" And he burst forth into an eloquent diatribe on the shortness of human life, the immensity of possible human accomplishment - a theme so well exploited by the poets, prophets, and philosophers of all ages that it might seem difficult to invest it with new and startling significance. Yet for me he did so, in a torrent of magnificent language which appeared to be both effortless and inexhaustible and ended up with the words I shall always remember: "We are all worms. But I do believe that I am a glow worm."

By this time I was convinced of it - and my conviction remained unshaken throughout the years that followed. Later he asked ~ Violet Bonham Carter

Most people who seek attention and regard by announcing that they're writing a novel are actually so devoid of narrative talent that they can't hold the attention of a dinner table for thirty seconds, even with a dirty joke. ~ Paul Fussell

There was, apparently, a nuclear reactor at a place called Indian Point, just thirty miles away in Westchester County. If something bad happened there, we were constantly being informed, the 'radioactive debris', whatever this might be, was liable to rain down on us. (Indian Point: the earliest, most incurable apprehensions stirred in its very name.) Then there was the question of dirty bombs. Apparently any fool could build a dirty bomb and explode it in Manhattan. How likely was this? Nobody knew. Very little about anything seemed intelligible or certain, and New York itself - that ideal source of the metropolitan diversion that serves as a response to the largest futilities - took on a fearsome, monstrous nature whose reality might have befuddled Plato himself. We were trying, as I irreverently analysed it, to avoid what might be termed a historic mistake. We were trying to understand, that is, whether we were in a pre-apocalyptic situation, like the European Jews in the thirties or the last citizens of Pompeii, or whether our situation was merely near-apocalyptic, like that of the Cold War inhabitants of New York, London, Washington and, for that matter, Moscow. In my anxiety I phoned Rachel's father, Charles Bolton, and asked him how he'd dealt with the threat of nuclear annihilation. I wanted to believe that this episode of history, like those old cataclysms that deposit a geologically telling layer of dust on the floors of seas, had sooted its survivors with special in ~ Joseph O'Neill

Nearly all children nowadays were horrible. What was worst of all was that by means of such organizations as the Spies they were systematically turned into ungovernable little savages, and yet this produced in them no tendency whatever to rebel against the discipline of the Party. On the contrary, they adored the Party and everything connected with it ... All their ferocity was turned outwards, against the enemies of the State, against foreigners, traitors, saboteurs, thought-criminals. It was almost normal for people over thirty to be frightened of their own children. ~ George Orwell

Twenty or thirty years ago, in the army, we had a lot of obscure adventures, and years later we tell them at parties, and suddenly we realize that those two very difficult years of our lives have become lumped together into a few episodes that have lodged in our memory in a standardized form, and are always told in a standardized way, in the same words. But in fact that lump of memories has nothing whatsoever to do with our experience of those two years in the army and what it has made of us. ~ Vaclav Havel

I can only say, think of me what you will, I have worked for thirty years in the Party, and my whole family has devoted everything to the affairs of the Party, the affairs of socialism. ~ Alexander Dubcek

Dirty days hath September
April June and November
From January up to May
The rain it raineth every day
All the rest have thirty-one
Without a blessed gleam of sun
And if any of them had two-and-thirty
They'd be just as wet and twice as dirty."
"April hath put a spirit of youth in everything. ~ William Shakespeare

No one at college ever goes to a party before ten-thirty at the very earliest! They'd rather die. It's so uncool to be early. ~ Francine Pascal

nothing knee-jerk about their politics. Two out of three of them say that abortion is "always" or "usually" morally wrong. They are far more likely than voters age thirty and over to identify themselves as politically "strictly independent." In fact, more than any other generation I've tracked in my polling, Globals seem determined to find a middle ground on the hot-button issues of the day and to decide each one on a case by case basis, not because their party leaders are urging them in one direction or the other. I like to tell audiences that while First Globals might not be more... ~ John Zogby

Miranda in Miranda's sight is old, gray and dirty; Twenty-nine she was last night; This morning she is thirty. ~ Ogden Nash

Thirty years people have been asking for a lawful system of immigration to end this lawlessness, and government on both parties have refused to give it to them. ~ Jeff Sessions

I gave him my Order smile: sweet grin, hard eyes, reached over to my passenger seat, and pulled out my submachine gun. About twenty-seven inches long, the HK was my favorite toy for close-quarters combat. The rider's eyes went wide.
"This is an HK UMP submachine gun. Renowned for its stopping power and reliability. Cyclic rate of fire: eight hundred rounds per minute. That means I can empty this thirty-round clip into you in less than three seconds. At this range, I'll cut you in half." It wasn't strictly true but it sounded good. "You see what it says on the barrel?"
On the barrel, pretty white letters spelled out PARTY STARTER. ~ Ilona Andrews

We're all swimmers in the river of time ... Just you wait, sister. Spending your days anticipating when you'll see your lover, anticipating your next paycheck, next party, next episode of blah blah blah - and poof! You're thirty-nine and wondering where the hell the time went. ~ Lily Gardner

I was speaking on the radio in South Texas [in 2016], and I was speaking to Hispanics, and I said 'You know, you probably vote Democrat because your parents always voted Democrat, and your grandparents always voted Democrat, but let me tell you something. Thirty years ago in Texas, there were two parties - liberal Democrats and conservative Democrats. Looking at your principles, your values as Hispanics, in all probability your parents were conservative Democrats. The conservative Democrats of 30 years ago are Republicans today!' ~ Rafael Cruz

I am a teller of stories ... a weaver of dreams. I can dance, sing, and in the right weather stand on my head. I know seven words of Latin. I have a little magic and a trick or two. I know the proper way to meet a dragon, can fight dirty but not fair, and once swallowed thirty oysters in a minute. I am not domestic. I am a luxury, and in that sense, necessary. ~ Anthony Minghella

You don't know anyone at the party, so you don't want to go. You don't like cottage cheese, so you haven't eaten it in years. This is your choice, of course, but don't kid yourself: it's also the flinch.

Your personality is not set in stone. You may think a morning coffee is the most enjoyable thing in the world, but it's really just a habit. Thirty days without it, and you would be fine. You think you have a soul mate, but in fact you could have had any number of spouses. You would have evolved differently, but been just as happy.

You can change what you want about yourself at any time. You see yourself as someone who can't write or play an instrument, who gives in to temptation or makes bad decisions, but that's really not you. It's not ingrained. It's not your personality. You personality is something else, something deeper than just preferences, and these details on the surface, you can change anytime you like.

If it is useful to do so, you must abandon your identity and start again. Sometimes, it's the only way.

Set fire to your old self. It's not needed here. It's too busy shopping, gossiping about others, and watching days go by and asking why you haven't gotten as far as you'd like. This old self will die and be forgotten by all but family, and replaced by someone who makes a difference.

Your new self is not like that. Your new self is the Great Chicago Fire - overwhelming, overpowering, and destroying everything ~ Julien Smith

Telegraph Road
A long time ago came a man on a track
Walking thirty miles with a pack on his back
And he put down his load where he thought it was the best
Made a home in the wilderness
He built a cabin and a winter store
And he ploughed up the ground by the cold lake shore
And the other travellers came riding down the track
And they never went further, no, they never went back
Then came the churches, then came the schools
Then came the lawyers, then came the rules
Then came the trains and the trucks with their loads
And the dirty old track was the telegraph road
Then came the mines - then came the ore
Then there was the hard times, then there was a war
Telegraph sang a song about the world outside
Telegraph road got so deep and so wide
Like a rolling river ...
And my radio says tonight it's gonna freeze
People driving home from the factories
There's six lanes of traffic
Three lanes moving slow ...
I used to like to go to work but they shut it down
I got a right to go to work but there's no work here to be found
Yes and they say we're gonna have to pay what's owed
We're gonna have to reap from some seed that's been sowed
And the birds up on the wires and the telegraph poles
They can always fly away from this rain and this cold
You can hear them singing out their telegraph code
All the way down the telegraph road
You know I'd soo ~ Mark Knopfler

Not one word about proposals, no matter how much she pushes," I told my friends. "No matter what she says or how loud she cries, don't try to throw that up as a distraction."
Gabriel's lips twitched. "I don't think it's going to be that bad. It's one woman against five supernatural creatures ... And Zeb."
"You laugh because you haven't heard my mother's thirty-minute verbal dissertation on appropriate seasonal flower choices. We're better off letting her yell at us for being dirty, premarital fornicators. ~ Molly Harper

Okay," I said, "so what does all that have to do with his dead mistress, her dead ex-boyfriend with the dirty pictures or the entire Rossetti crime family?" Trixie shrugged. "I dunno, let's go ask him." "Ask who?" I said, a little lost. "Roger Mayfield," she said simply. "Isn't that what I wanted to do at nine o'clock in the morning?" I asked, annoyed. "Nine thirty-seven," she reminded. "And there's a difference." "Which is?" I asked. "When you wanted to do it, it was a stupid idea," she said with a smile. ~ Gregg Taylor

Could she really do it? Could she really go all that way by herself? Yes, she whispered, of course you can do it: you're thirty-eight years old and you're not going to the moon, just to Baghdad. The word sounded the way a shiver felt. At the dinner party in London it had been a shiver of excitement, but now it held a frisson of dread. She ~ Lindsay Jayne Ashford

A red traffic light loomed, and Cecilia slammed her foot on the brake. The fact that Polly no longer wanted a pirate party was breathtakingly insignificant in comparison to that poor man (thirty!) crashing to the ground for the freedom that Cecilia took for granted, but right now, she couldn't pause to honor his memory, because a last-minute change of party theme was unacceptable. That's what happened when you had freedom. You lost your mind over a pirate party. ~ Liane Moriarty

As they stepped away, Beckett nodded toward Blake's bandaged arm. "What'd ya get?"
"It says 'Sorry,'" Blake said as he went out the door to Cole's private quarters, leaving his brothers alone.
Beckett dialed his cell phone and spoke to Cole while it rang. "What time's good for you?"
Cole sighed. "Around one-thirty today would work."
"Chaos!" Beckett yelled into the phone. "Fit me and my brother into your busy fucking schedule of dusting lawn gnomes and staring out that dirty shed window. We'll be there at one-thirty. ~ Debra Anastasia

They had Rembrandt on the calendar that year, a rather smeary self-portrait due to imperfectly registered color plate. It showed him holding a smeared palette with a dirty thumb and wearing a tam-o'-shanter which wasn't any too clean either. His other hand held a brush poised in the air, as if he might be going to do a little work after a while, if somebody made a down payment. His face was aging, saggy, full of the disgust of life and the thickening effects of liquor. But it had a hard cheerfulness that I liked, and the eyes were as bright as drops of dew.
I was looking at him across my office desk at about four-thirty when the phone rang and I heard a cool, supercilious voice that sounded as if it thought it was pretty good. It said drawlingly, after I had answered:
You are Philip Marlowe, a private detective? ~ Raymond Chandler

Hey, dickhead!" one of the other drivers yelled. "Get off the road!"
"This here is a Falcon Seven," the rider told him. "I can put a bolt through your windshield and pin you to your seat like a bug."
A direct threat, huh? Okay.

I pulled down my sunglasses a bit so the rider would see my eyes. "That's a nice crossbow."
He glanced in my direction. He saw a friendly blond girl with a big smile and a light Texas accent and didn't get alarmed.

"You've got what, a seventy-five-pound draw on it? Takes you about four seconds to reload?"
"Three," he said.

I gave him my Order smile: sweet grin, hard eyes, reached over to my passenger seat, and pulled out my submachine gun. About twenty-seven inches long, the HK was my favorite toy for close-quarters combat. The rider's eyes went wide.
"This is an HK UMP submachine gun. Renowned for its stopping power and reliability. Cyclic rate of fire: eight hundred rounds per minute. That means I can empty this thirty-round clip into you in less than three seconds. At this range, I'll cut you in half." It wasn't strictly true but it sounded good. "You see what it says on the barrel?"

On the barrel, pretty white letters spelled out PARTY STARTER.

"You open your mouth again, and I'll get the party started."
The rider clamped his jaws shut. ~ Ilona Andrews

Mr Horsefry was a youngish man, not simply running to fat but vaulting, leaping and diving towards obesity. He had acquired at thirty an impressive selection of chins, and now they wobbled with angry pride.*
* It is wrong to judge by appearances. Despite his expression, which was that of a piglet having a bright idea, and his mode of speech, which might put you in mind of a small, breathless, neurotic but ridiculously expensive dog, Mr Horsefry might well have been a kind, generous and pious man. In the same way, the man climbing out of your window in a stripy jumper, a mask and a great hurry might merely be lost on the way to a fancy-dress party, and the man in the wig and robes at the focus of the courtroom might only be a transvestite who wandered in out of the rain. Snap judgements can be so unfair. ~ Terry Pratchett

Media work needs ideals. Maybe thirty years from now, after I retire, I'll see the media mature and make the transition from political party, interest group, and corporate to truly public. But over the next ten years, the encroachment of commercialism and worldliness will loom much larger than the democratization we imagine. -Jin Yongquan in China Ink ~ Judy Polumbaum

THIRTY–ZERO! TAKE THAT, YOU DIRTY, CHEATING - " "Jordan, if you can't commentate in an unbiased way - !" "I'm telling it like it is, Professor! ~ J.K. Rowling

I really do not want to carry some kind of party function. ~ Dalai Lama

Conservatism is not about the party, because the party is merely the shell. It is the inside - it's the filling that really means something. ~ Jonathan Krohn

All political movements are like this
we are in the right, everyone else is in the wrong. The people on our own side who disagree with us are heretics, and they start becoming enemies. With it comes an absolute conviction of your own moral superiority. There's oversimplification in everything, and a terror of flexibility. ~ Doris Lessing

When he finally looked up at me, his eyes were watery.

"Every guy at that party had his eyes on you, including me, but I knew I'd never in a million years have a chance with you. I saw you around campus after that and at parties, every once and a while. Every time I saw you, you took my breath away. I couldn't keep my eyes off of you but you never noticed me. Not that I expected you to. I always knew you were way out of my league. Then last night, you actually looked at me. You talked to me. You flirted with me. I couldn't believe you wanted to be with me. I knew it was the only chance I'd probably ever have to be with you, even if it was just for one night, so I took it. ~ Dakota Madison

Bad leadership during the past years has cast on our Party the shadow of great and grave burdens. ~ Janos Kadar

How about the wrong crowd," I said. "You getting in with them?"
"Not much luck," Paul said. "I'm trying like hell, but the wrong crowd doesn't seem to want me."
"Don't quit," I said. "You want something, you go after it. I was nearly thirty-five before I could get in with wrong crowd. ~ Robert B. Parker

After a long day of trying, to make my songs pay, making love all day against the wall in the hallway. ~ Tupac Shakur

I love a small dinner party - let's say six people, max, were everybody's having the same conversation. That's my favorite thing in the world. ~ Paul F. Tompkins

The last time I was inside a woman was when I went to the Statue of Liberty. ~ Woody Allen