Going Out In Style Quotes

The cruise embraces death. Life is terminal. Every day a miracle. Ms. Gauge (misgauge) ~ PatriciaL.Morris

Individuals reacted in any number of ways to extreme stress and, relatedly, to impending death.

A non-negligible percentage of people reacted in a manner which could be summed up by, 'Screw it, I'm going out in style! ~ G.S. Jennsen

I tried to reason with him. 'You're like one of those people who's more scared of flying than driving, even though you're way more likely to die in a car.'
'Yeah, but if I'm in my 1981 Pontiac, at least I'm going out in style. ~ Claudia Gray

The first choice for me is what's going to make me stretch out in my craft? ~ Kim Fields

Someone came up to me and told me that [his opponent's] knee was hurt, and he said to me, attack his knee, I'm like, 'Yeah right, I'm not going out to attack this guy's knee.' It just doesn't ... it's not realistic to go after his injury, unless they got a cut the same week, then it's like, yeah, hit him in the eye, because the [expletive] is going to re-open and now you wouldn't fight on the cut. Maybe on a cut you want to take advantage of it, that makes sense. ~ Nick Diaz

Colonies are much, much more. Colonies are the outhouses of the European soul, where a fellow can let his pants down and relax, enjoy the smell of his own shit. Where he can fall on his slender prey roaring as loud as he feels like, and guzzle her blood with open joy. Eh? Where he can just wallow and rut and let himself go in a softness, a receptive darkness of limbs, of hair as woolly as the hair on his own forbidden genitals. Where the poppy, and cannabis and coca grow full and green, and not to the colors and style of death, as do ergot and agaric, the blight and fungus native to Europe. Christian Europe was always death, Karl, death and repression. Out and down in the colonies, life can be indulged, life and sensuality in all its forms, with no harm done to the Metropolis, nothing to soil those cathedrals, white marble statues, noble thoughts. . . . No word ever gets back. The silences down here are vast enough to absorb all behavior, no matter how dirty, how animal it gets. . . . ~ Thomas Pynchon

Nobody is born with a style or a voice. We don't out of the womb knowing who we are. In the beginning, we learn by pretending to be our heroes. We learn by copying. ~ Austin Kleon

I remember as a little girl going down to the beet fields in the Dakotas and in Nebraska and Wyoming as migrant workers when I was very, very small, like, I was, like, 5 years old, I believe. And I remember going out there, you know, traveling to these states and living in these little tarpaper shacks that they had in Wyoming. ~ Dolores Huerta

Jeremy Spencer, always religious to an obsessive degree, had disappeared hours before a show while on tour with Fleetwood Mac in the U.S. According to band lore, it had happened right here in Los Angeles in 1971. He walked out of the band's hotel room announcing, "Just going out to a bookstore", and never returned. Somewhere on Hollywood Boulevard he climbed into a van belonging to members of a religious group who called themselves the Children of God. After a long, frantic search involving the police and close friends, Jeremy was finally tracked down to a ramshackle house that was the headquarters of the Children of God. He'd become a full-fledged member of a religious group that some would label a cult. And there he stayed. He refused to come back to either Fleetwood Mac or his wife and children, choosing instead to join a group of religious fanatics and leave all that he had ever known behind. And now he was standing in ~ Carol Ann Harris

Well, good luck,' the Vietnam verbal tic...It was as though people couldn't stop themselves from saying it, even when they actually meant to express the opposite wish, like, 'Die, motherfucker.' Usually it was only an uninhabited passage of dead language, sometimes it came out five times in a sentence, like punctuation, often it was spoken flat side up to telegraph the belief that there wasn't any way out; tough shit, sin loi, smack it, good luck. Sometimes, though, it was said with such feeling and tenderness that it could crack your mask, that much love where there was so much war. Me too, every day, compulsively, good luck: to friends in the press corps going out on operations, to grunts I'd meet at firebases and airstrips, to the wounded, the dead and all the Vietnamese I ever saw getting fucked over by us and each other, less often but most passionately to myself, and though I meant it every time I said it, it was meaningless. It was like telling someone going out in a storm not to get any on him, it was the same as saying, 'Gee, I hope you don't get killed or wounded or see anything that drives you insane.' You could make all the ritual moves, carry your lucky piece, wear your magic jungle hat, kiss your thumb knuckle smooth as stones under running water, the Inscrutable Immutable was still out there, and you kept on or not at its pitiless discretion. All you could say that wasn't fundamentally lame was something like, 'He who bites it this day is safe from the next,' a ~ Michael Herr

The moment you are born your death is foretold by your newly minted cells as your mother holds you up, then hands you to your father, who gently tickles the stomach where the cancer will one day form, studies the eyes where melanoma's dark signature is already written along the optic nerve, touches the back where the liver will one day house the cirrhosis, feels the bloodstream that will sweeten itself into diabetes, admires the shape of the head where the brain will fall to the ax-handle of stroke, or listens to your heart, which, exhausted by the fearful ways and humiliations and indecencies of life, will explode in your chest like a light going out in the world. ~ Pat Conroy

WHO IS- OR WAS- YOUR FAVORITE WRITER?

For style and consistency, I would have to say John Updike. No one else in the world writes the way that he does, and very few have enjoyed the longevity of career or employed the breadth of scope that he has. Mailer's a close second, but they are completely different animals. Bret Easton Ellis, whom I unintentionally left off of my answer to the previous question, is good as well- he creates a goodly number of inimitable situations, and his dexterity of language produces many, many killer lines- lines that belong in any literate person's lexicon. I would say the same for Jay McInerney as well. But Easton's output is spotty: every other book is crap. He did Less Than Zero, and that was fucking amazing, and then he did The Rules Of Attraction. After that, he wrote American Psycho- a brilliant but sadly misunderstood book at the time- but the follow-up, Glamorama, sucked horribly. At least, in my humble opinion. After that, I kind of lost interest. If you occasionally throw off a collection of shitty writing, it does affect your credibility when you seek to speak with your constituency about matters of life and death. Fiction is a deadly serious business, and if you're dry and out of ideas, then just fucking say so and keep working at it until you're finally writing something that it would be a crime not to let other people read. ~ Larry Mitchell

And when I am in a new place, because I see everything, it is like when a computer is doing too many things at the same time and the central processor unit is blocked up and there isn't any space left to think about other things. And when I am in a new place and there are lots of people there it is even harder because people are not like cows and flowers and grass and they can talk to you and do things that you don't expect, so you have to notice everything that is in the place, and also you have to notice things that might happen as well. And sometimes when I am in a new place and there are lots of people there it is like a computer crashing and I have to close my eyes and put my hands over my ears and groan, which is like pressing CTRL + ALT + DEL and shutting down programs and turning the computer off and rebooting so that I can remember what I am doing and where I am meant to be going. ~ Mark Haddon

The idea that competition is pointless is really something that speaks to me, especially in America where competition is really prominent and very overwhelming, and it doesn't bring the best out in you because what's going to push you is to bring others down. ~ Michel Gondry

Almost everybody considers himself capable of thinking and, to a certain degree, whether right or wrong, really does think. Very few, on the contrary, can fancy themselves poets or artists in words. But from the moment when thought won out over style, the mob invaded the novel. ~ Albert Camus

When the ship approached the equator, I stopped going out on deck in the daytime. The sun burned like a flame. The days had shortened and night came swiftly. One moment it was light, the next it was dark. The sun did not set but fell into the water like a meteor. Late in the evening, when I went out briefly, a hot wind slapped my face. From the ocean came a roar of passions that seemed to have broken through all barriers:'We mus procreate and multiply! We must exhaust all the powers of lust!' The waves glowed like lava, and I imagined I could see multitudes of living beings - algae, whales, sea monsters - reveling in an orgy, from the surface to the bottom of the sea. Immortality was the law here. The whole planet raged with animation. At times, I heard my name in the clamor: the spirit of the abyss calling me to join them in their nocturnal dance. ("Hanka") ~ Isaac Bashevis Singer

I got told by pretty much everyone I knew that, if I'm going to be out in L.A., working, you need a car. So I was thinking, I'm going to try and not get a car, just because I'm a contrarian that way. ~ Alfred Enoch

In New York, it's a little bit more formal, a little bit more decorated, and there's a real appreciation for traditional style. Out here, it's casual, fresh, new, and almost humble. ~ James Pearse Connelly

Did you hear about Katie Parkinson? ... She's going out with Christopher... They've been kissing."

"It was like a Semtex explosion in my brain. I did not know whether to cry or run away. ~ Will Once

As a member of the avant-garde who is capable of perceiving the conspiracy before it is fully obvious to an as yet unaroused public, the paranoid is a militant leader. He does not see social conflict as something to be mediated and compromised, in the manner of the working politician. Since what is at stake is always a conflict between absolute good and absolute evil, what is necessary is not compromise but the will to fight things out to a finish. Since the enemy is thought of as being totally evil and totally unappeasable, he must be totally eliminated–if not from the world, at least from the theatre of operations to which the paranoid directs his attention. This demand for total triumph leads to the formulation of hopelessly unrealistic goals, and since these goals are not even remotely attainable, failure constantly heightens the paranoid's sense of frustration. Even partial success leaves him with the same feeling of powerlessness with which he began, and this in turn only strengthens his awareness of the vast and terrifying quality of the enemy he opposes. ~ Richard Hofstadter

I'm not sure how the ponies happened, though I have an inkling: "Can I get you anything?" I'll say, getting up from a dinner table, "Coffee, tea, a pony?" People rarely laugh at this, especially if they've heard it before. "This party's 'sposed to be fun," a friend will say. "Really? Will there be pony rides?" It's a nervous tic and a cheap joke, cheapened further by the frequency with which I use it. For that same reason, it's hard to weed it out of my speech – most of the time I don't even realize I'm saying it. There are little elements in a person's life, minor fibers that become unintentionally tangled with your personality. Sometimes it's a patent phrase, sometimes it's a perfume, sometimes it's a wristwatch. For me, it is the constant referencing of ponies.

I don't even like ponies. If I made one of my throwaway equine requests and someone produced an actual pony, Juan-Valdez-style, I would run very fast in the other direction. During a few summers at camp, I rode a chronically dehydrated pony named Brandy who would jolt down without notice to lick the grass outside the corral and I would careen forward, my helmet tipping to cover my eyes. I do, however, like ponies on the abstract. Who doesn't? It's like those movies with the animated insects. Sure, the baby cockroach seems cute with CGI eyelashes, but how would you feel about fifty of her real-life counterparts living in your oven? And that's precisely the manner in which the ponies clomped their way into ~ Sloane Crosley

Building the scene, going out and doing shows and connecting with the fans, cultivating the fanbase in all these cities. I'm very glad that it's happening. ~ A-Trak

There are days I like going out, and days I like to sit naked with the remote control on my thigh, watching 'Breaking Bad.' I'm in love with that TV show. And 'Louie' on FX. And 'The Newsroom' - well, I don't know if I like it, but I'm obsessed with it. It's so Sorkin-y. But I've got some friends on there, so it's good to support them. ~ Christopher Mintz-Plasse

It [the charcuterie] was almost on the corner of the Rue Pirouette and was a joy to behold. It was bright and inviting, with touches of brilliant colour standing out amidst white marble. The signboard, on which the name QUENU-GRADELLE glittered in fat gilt letter encircled by leaves and branches painted on a soft-hued background, was protected by a sheet of glass. On the two side panels of the shop front, similarly painted and under glass, were chubby little Cupids playing in the midst of boars' heads, pork chops, and strings of sausages; and these still lifes, adorned with scrolls and rosettes, had been designed in so pretty and tender a style that the raw meat lying there assumed the reddish tint of raspberry jam. Within this delightful frame, the window display was arranged. It was set out on a bed of fine shavings of blue paper; a few cleverly positioned fern leaves transformed some of the plates into bouquets of flowers fringed with foliage. There were vast quantities of rich, succulent things, things that melted in the mouth. Down below, quite close to the window, jars of rillettes were interspersed with pots of mustard. Above these were some boned hams, nicely rounded, golden with breadcrumbs, and adorned at the knuckles with green rosettes. Then came the larger dishes--stuffed Strasbourg tongues, with their red, varnished look, the colour of blood next to the pallor of the sausages and pigs' trotters; strings of black pudding coiled like harmless snakes; andouilles pi ~ Emile Zola

She leads me to a parlor room, where tailors are pinning up a white, lacy gown, with long sleeves and a layered skirt, made in the style of the year 1917. The same year the Romanov Empire fell. At their request, I slip it on and step on a stool in the middle of the room. My throat clenches when I gaze into the golden mirror. I'm a living impression of Empress Alexandra, wife of Nicholas II. I look like I've stepped out of the black-and-white pictures and transported myself to another time. ~ Megan Linski

I'm just me – half a family, no awareness whatsoever about style, or what's in and what's out. I'm not like the lizards. I don't really even know how I'm supposed to be with a guy that I'm attracted to. I've never been a game player. I don't know how to be coy… or sexy… or whatever. I have no finesse. ~ Jan Coffey

For some people, the highlight of their entire month could be going out and eating a pizza or watching a movie at a multiplex, and here I am visiting four countries in a month. So, in that way, movies have made me socially aware. I now know how simple people live their lives. ~ Sonam Kapoor

A writing exercise from a school in ancient Mesopotamia discovered by modern archaeologists gives us a glimpse into the lives of these students, some 4,000 years ago: I went in and sat down, and my teacher read my tablet. He said, 'There's something missing!' And he caned me. One of the people in charge said, 'Why did you open your mouth without my permission?' And he caned me. The one in charge of rules said, 'Why did you get up without my permission?' And he caned me. The gatekeeper said, 'Why are you going out without my permission?' And he caned me. The keeper of the beer jug said, 'Why did you get some without my permission?' And he caned me. The Sumerian teacher said, 'Why did you speak Akkadian?'fn1 And he caned me. My teacher said, 'Your handwriting is no good!' And he caned me.4 ~ Yuval Noah Harari

Some children grow up with parents whi have their own strong attachment issues: they experience their parents as sometimes emotionally available, sometimes scared, and sometimes even scary. This variation is confusing and frightening, and these children are unable to find a way to consistently meet their attachment needs. They don't find solace in either deactivating (trying to go it alone) or hyperactivating (reaching out for attention and acceptance), so they attempt to use both kinds of strategies in a disorganized way. This creates a chaotic and confusing pattern in relationships known as the fearful style of attachment. ~ Leslie Becker-Phelps

I wouldn't say I'm a spender in the sense that I'm going out on huge spending sprees. However, to be able to function at the top of your game on the professional tennis circuit often requires an element of frequent spending. ~ Andy Murray

Every time I work out in the gym, every time I train, I know I'm going to do well. But I like surprising the fans, the critics, the people who doubt me. ~ Oscar De La Hoya

By 1950, American policing was at a crossroads. It could go on as it had for a hundred years, inefficient and often corrupt, or it could adopt the kind of professional management style advocated by reformers. At least, those appeared to be the choices at the time. As it turned out, postwar policing would be dominated by discussions far beyond how to make cops more honest, polite and efficient. Instead it would be caught up in large social questions involving race relations and what constituted the fair administration of justice. ~ Thomas A. Reppetto

I thoroughly enjoy getting away from the game and going out fishing because it's so relaxing, so quiet and peaceful. I mean, there's no noise other than nature - and it's so different from what I do in a tournament situation that it just eases my mind. ~ Tiger Woods

You're certainly chipper this morning."
"Damn straight. Chipper's my middle name. I'm going out to spread joy and laughter to all of mankind."
"What a nice change of pace." There was amusement riding along with the Irish in his voice. "Perhaps you'll start now by going down with me to see Summerset off."
She grimaced. "That might spoil my appetite." Testing, she polished off the pancakes. "No, no, it doesn't. I can do that. I can go down and wave bye-bye."
Brow lifted, he gave her hair a quick tug. "Nicely."
"I won't do the happy dance until he's out of sight. Three weeks. ~ J.D. Robb

As you go out to the 2040s, now the bulk of our thinking is out in the cloud. The biological portion of our brain didn't go away but the nonbiological portion will be much more powerful. And it will be uploaded automatically the way we back up everything now that's digital. ~ Ray Kurzweil

Eh, I've always rather enjoyed being fashionably late." I picked up the violin case for Melanie, giving her an hug before clambering off the rock. "I feel like we should be leading a procession in, Pied Piper style."
"I know just the thing." A hint of her old self peeked through her eyes.
A moment later the first bars of "Safety Dance" hummed from the strings. I bit my lip trying not to giggle. Together the two of us broke out in lopsided chorus as I twirled about her. Ignoring the stares of the elves, we strutted up the center of the caravan, Brystion trailing behind us bemusedly. ~ Allison Pang

The thing I'm particularly interested in is natural history. In its heyday, the mid- and late-nineteenth century, when people were going out and gathering the first huge caches of data and trying to understand what was living and growing everywhere, there was such a sense of freshness to that pursuit. It's very exciting. ~ Andrea Barrett

Michael comes to the door with Frederick. 'Lucky I was here playing Scrabble,' Frederick says, as they take Henry off my hands. I follow with the wallet and keys that have fallen from his pocket.

'My father,' Henry says as they tumble through the door.

'My son,' his dad replies, helping him towards the fiction couch.

'Amy's going out with Greg Smith,' I say to explain why Henry's drunk. 'I found him in the girls' toilets.'

'In my defence, I was too drunk to know it was the girls' toilets,' Henry says.

'Go to sleep,' his dad tells him. 'It'll seem better in the morning.'

'No offence, Dad,' Henry says, 'but unrequited love is just as shit in the morning as it is at night. Possibly worse, because you have a whole day ahead of you.'

'No offence taken,' Michael says. 'You've got a point there.'

'They should just kill the victims of unrequited love,' Henry says. 'They should just take us out the second it happens.'

'That would certainly thin the population,' Michael says, as he tucks a blanket around him. ~ Cath Crowley

I was stuck back on "you can't have two maids of honor" and therefore fighting back hyperventilation at the same time flashing pictures filled my head of a commando-style wedding; Hawk in black cargos, me in a white flak jacket festooned with lace. The picture of me carrying a bouquet of flowers and Hawk carrying an automatic weapon. The picture of me admiring Hawk's huge-ass hunting knife. The picture of Hawk carrying me out of the reception in a fireman's hold while bullets flew and flames caused by Molotov cocktails danced on the dance floor. ~ Kristen Ashley

My production style is all about imagination. I want my audience to use their imagination when they watch my videos. My goal is for my voice to be that little hope of encouragement in your head when you walk out your door. ~ Michelle Phan

There was a time when going out to parties and dinner parties and clubs was an exciting thing to do. I'd wake up in the morning and immediately think, 'Now what am I doing tonight?' Now I'd be more likely to reach for a book. ~ Gina Bellman

So I made an outline. Well, you know, days are going by, and I am not writing anything because this thing is laid out in front of me. It's as if you get every brochure for a trip you are going to go on and you get the minutest details of every step along the way. Well, I really doubt you're going to then get in the car and go. You know, it's like, why bother if it's all laid out in front of you? ~ Steve Tesich

There's nowhere like home for me, but there has been something so interesting about most of the places I've visited. One that sticks out in my mind is traveling around South America. It's a huge continent, and I only got to see a small portion of it, but I've always liked going there. ~ Brittany Bowe

...but how can I feel right about marrying a guy who's in love with someone else? It's not right, Tharin. The name 'My Love' should be for the one you truly love," I sigh heavily. The wind going out of me and I finish in almost a whisper, "and it shouldn't be thrown around like it's just another word, because it isn't. ~ L. Filloon

In 'Deadliest Catch,' we have men in ships in rough seas catching crabs. With 'Whale Wars,' we have men and women from a dozen different nations going out to sea in rough weather to help save the whales. We also have icebergs, whales, penguins, and dramatic ship-to-ship confrontations. ~ Paul Watson

I've also learned to no longer feel guilty if I'm invited out and don't want to go. If I start to say to myself, 'What's wrong with you that you're staying in five nights in a row to watch 'Forensic Files' instead of going out with your friends' I remind myself that it's what I need to do for myself at that point. ~ Edie Falco

The key to this risotto is Japanese peppers of all things?!"
"It's sharp, refreshing aroma highlights the mellow body of the cheese... while making the eel's umami flavor flash like an explosion!"
"And that one key ingredient that quietly ties it all together...
... is garlic!"
"Garlic?! In traditional Japanese cuisine?! That's almost unheard of!"
"Those are special smoked garlic chips a junior of mine made. They were smoked using wood from a walnut tree, which is known to emphasize seafood flavors well. By lightly crushing those chips and sprinkling them on as a topping, I added a pleasantly crunchy texture to the dish.
But the most critical feature of my dish... is that I broiled the eel using the Kansai region Kabayaki style. Unlike the Kanto region style, there's no steaming step. Leaving all that oil in gives the eel a more fragrant aroma with a heavier texture and stronger flavor...
... meaning it pairs much more naturally with a flavor as powerful as garlic. *Steaming the eel makes much of its natural oil seep out, leaving the flesh light and fluffy.*
But what makes these chips so extraordinary... is that they're infused with Ibusaki's earnest passion and the pure sweat of his helpers, Aoki and Sato. There's no way they could not be delicious!"
"Ew! Don't say they're infused with sweat! That's gross!"
"This much alone is already an impressively polished gourmet course. What's in store for us in that teapot?"
"That ~ Yuto Tsukuda

In the wildlife sanctuaries of literature, we study the species of speech, the flight patterns of individual words, the herd behavior of words together, and we learn what language does and why it matters. this is excellent training for going out into the world and looking at all the unhallowed speech of political statements and news headlines and CDC instructions and seeing how it makes the word or in this case, makes a mess of it. It is the truest, highest purpose of language to make things clear and help us see; when words are used to do the opposite you know you're in trouble and maybe that there's a cover-up. ~ Rebecca Solnit