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B Quotes

Browse famous quotes beginning with B. This page is a child index of the full Popular Quotes A-Z directory.

All B Quotes

“Back in July 2003, he’d written them a long essay on the causes and consequences of what he took to be a likely housing crash: “Alan Greenspan assures us that home prices are not prone to bubbles—or major deflations—on any national scale,” he’d said. “This is ridiculous, of course…. In 1933, during the fourth year of the Great Depression, the United States found itself in the midst of a housing crisis that put housing starts at 10% of the level of 1925. Roughly half of all mortgage debt was in default. During the 1930s, housing prices collapsed nationwide by roughly 80%.”

“Back in Kansas City, I associated Harvard with sort of gnarly guys who wore capes for effect in a kind of Oscar Wilde scene. Even though I also knew there was such a thing as the Harvard-Yale game, I was still a little surprised that Harvard had a football team. I just assumed if there were such a thing as gay people, that they were nothing like us. Little did I know that probably half the swim team at Yale was gay.”

“Back in Mantua, Isabella’s visit had reportedly caused her to lose weight, but not enough to prevent the makeshift stage erected outside the convent at Porta Pradella, where Isabella attended a play about Mary Magdalene, from collapsing under the burden of her bulk. Unfortunately the stage had been built over a lake, though Isabella reported cheerfully that no one had been killed. The lake was shallow, but Isabella’s presence in it may have made alarming waves as, despite her attendants’ oliginous praises, she was now quite obese-so much so that when she was obliged to vacate her apartments in widowhood, she prudently moved to the ground floor. No staircase was safe from the mighty Marchioness.”

“Back in March, before Donald Trump secured the Republican nomination for president, a group of national security heavyweights signed an open letter that called Trump fundamentally dishonest and utterly unfit for the presidency. Now, two days after Trump's victory, some in the national security establishment are wondering whether to return to the fold.”

“Back in middle school, Catherine and I had gone through this stage where all we would read were fantasy books. We'd consume them like M&M's, by the fistful, J.R.R. Tolkien and Terry Brooks and Susan Cooper and Lloyd Alexander. Susan Boone looked, to me, like the queen of the elves (there's almost always an elf queen in fantasy books). I mean, she was shorter than me and had on a strange lineny outfit in pale blues and greens.”

“Back in my day, when a white man gave you an opportunity, it came at a cost. You could be his chauffeur, but had to always be available to drive him around no matter if you had plans with your family or not. You could vote, but someone would break your legs if you didn' vote for the candidate they wanted you to. But either way, an opportunity was an opportunity, and if you took it, and learned how to play their game, you could be successful.”

“Back in my days as a children's book editor, my superiors caught on to the fact that teenagers were using the Internet to gossip about each other, and thought it might be nifty to develop a series of books about an anonymous high-school blogger who gossips about her classmates. The concept was passed on to me.”

“Back in my room, I put Izzy down, pulled my dress over my head, and tossed it on the floor, lost in thought. "Marygene Brown," Mama scolded the second I closed the door. I screamed. Izzy was growling and running around Mama, barking. Alex bolted through the door, gun in hand, scanning the room for an intruder. "What is it?" I held my hand over my heart, a familiar response for me now, and scooped Izzy up. Mama was giving me a chastising glare, her arms folded across her chest. She didn't seem to like the idea of Alex sleeping in the house. She was such a hypocrite. That was when I recalled I was standing in nothing but my bra and panties. Alex devoured me with the intensity of his gape. I snatched the dress off the floor, using it to cover myself. "Um... I thought I saw a mouse. Sorry I alarmed you," I stammered. "Mouse, my derriere," Mama said. "That boy doesn't need to be in this house. You have a blind spot when it comes to him." She had never been fond of Alex. He was subpar in her eyes. He didn't own his own business, like Zach did, nor did he come from an aristocratic family. He was a common boy who grew into a common man, who earned a deputy's salary. Like Eddie. Alex had a lopsided grin. "If I didn't know better, I'd think you were using that as an excuse to get me up here. A little jealous tonight, were we?" "You watch yourself, young man!" Mama scolded, her finger in his face. Not that he saw her. "Shh," I said to Mama. "What are you shushing me for? Any man would think the same," Alex said. "I thought I heard it," I held my hand to my ear, "the mouse, listen." He put his gun back into his holster. "Right. If you want me to stay," he waggled his eyebrows at me, "all you have to do is ask." "I mean it. You're about to get it, young man," Mama was waving her arms around like a lunatic, and I wasn't certain she could do no harm. She had slammed me to the floor the other night. "No. I swear it was a mouse." I shoved him out the door. "I'll be fine. Good night, Alex." "Good night, Marygene." He grinned again as I closed the door. "If you need me, just holler." He put extra emphasis on the word need.”

“Back in North Carolina, the small office in the English Department I shared with another graduate student for our teaching assignments looked like a decorator's version of Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde, one where Jekyll loved Stranger Things, Funko Pops, and artistically desaturated wedding photos, and Hyde loved death row cinder block walls.”

“Back in pre-Revolutionary America cruel and unusual punishment meant the rack and burning at the stake... in more recent rulings it has been taken to mean the absence of cable television and denial of sex-change operations, or just overcrowding in the prisons.”

“Back in Syria, we’d never gave anything directly to anyone. We’d give to a charity and then they’d make sure it got to people in need. That way no one felt looked down on. I remind myself how lucky we are to have found such a generous new friends. I try to push the uncomfortable thoughts away, but I can’t help it. It’s charity and it hurts.”

“Back in the 1970s, I ate a high-protein diet to get bigger and stronger. As a senior at Utah State, I weighed 218 pounds with eight percent body fat, and threw the discus over 190 feet. Then I got some advice from the people at the Olympic Training Center. I needed carbs, they advised, and lots of them. They pointed to studies done on the American distance runners. Being an idiot, I took the advice to eat like emaciated, over-trained sub-performers. It took years of high carbohydrate grazing to learn the evils of this advice.”

“Back in the 1980s, when the internet was only available to a small number of pioneers, I was often confronted by people who feared that the strange technologies I was working on, like virtual reality, might unleash the demons of human nature. For instance, would people become addicted to virtual reality as if it were a drug? Would they become trapped in it, unable to escape back to the physical world where the rest of us live? Some of the questions were silly, and others were prescient.”