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Parties Quotes

Browse 54 quotes about Parties.

Parties Quotes

“Performing magic in the live show thrills me. Just get me a deck of cards and some attentive audience, and I have made my day and theirs too”

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Book:Wealth of Words
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“While my previous friends had always talked constantly about girls, parties, drinking, and fights, this group invested considerable quantities of time looking out for the wellbeing of others. They made the world a better place, and they taught me to do the same. Since we were looking out for what God was doing, we would often find ourselves in the right place at the right time.”

DrinkingGirlsWellbeingFightsParties
Book:Pursued: God’s relentless pursuit and a drug addict’s journey to finding purpose
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“By drinking, a boy acts like a man. After drinking, many a man acts like a boy.”

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Author:Mokokoma Mokhonoana
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“America's industrial success produced a roll call of financial magnificence: Rockefellers, Morgans, Astors, Mellons, Fricks, Carnegies, Goulds, du Ponts, Belmonts, Harrimans, Huntingtons, Vanderbilts, and many more based in dynastic wealth of essentially inexhaustible proportions. John D. Rockefeller made $1 billion a year, measured in today's money, and paid no income tax. No one did, for income tax did not yet exist in America. Congress tried to introduce an income tax of 2 percent on earnings of $4,000 in 1894, but the Supreme Court ruled it unconstitutional. Income tax wouldn't become a regular part of American Life until 1914. People would never be this rich again. Spending all this wealth became for many a more or less full-time occupation. A kind of desperate, vulgar edge became attached to almost everything they did. At one New York dinner party, guests found the table heaped with sand and at each place a little gold spade; upon a signal, they were invited to dig in and search for diamonds and other costly glitter buried within. At another party - possibly the most preposterous ever staged - several dozen horses with padded hooves were led into the ballroom of Sherry's, a vast and esteemed eating establishment, and tethered around the tables so that the guests, dressed as cowboys and cowgirls, could enjoy the novel and sublimely pointless pleasure of dining in a New York ballroom on horseback.”

WealthMoneyNew YorkPartiesGilded Age
Book:At Home: A Short History of Private Life
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“Introverts may have strong social skills and enjoy parties and business meetings, but after a while wish they were home in their pajamas. They prefer to devote their social energies to close friends, colleagues, and family. They listen more than they talk, think before they speak, and often feel as if they express themselves better in writing than in conversation. They tend to dislike conflict. Many have a horror of small talk, but enjoy deep discussions.”

LifeHuman NatureShynessIntrovertsSocial AnxietyParties
Author:Susan Cain
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“Greta knows that for me there are no good parties. I’m okay with one or two people, but more than that and I turn into a naked mole rat. That’s what being shy feels like. Like my skin is too thin, the light too bright. Like the best place I could possibly be is in a tunnel far under the cool, dark earth. Someone asks me a question and I stare at them, empty-faced, my brain jammed up with how hard I’m trying to find something interesting to say. And in the end, all I can do is nod or shrug, because the light of their eyes looking at me, waiting for me, is just too much to take. And then it’s over and there’s one more person in the world who thinks I’m a complete and total waste of time.”

PartyJudgmentShyIntrovertHideParties
Book:Tell the Wolves I'm Home
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“You're welcome to as much wine as you can drink, Ares." ...[Ares] watched two bare-breasted women stroll by. "Am I welcome to your worshippers as well?" "If they'll have you. Force yourself on anyone, though, and the cat gets to gnaw on your anatomy." Dionysos nodded to Agria, who prowled around the crowd. "Those are the rules." Ares smirked. ... "No problem there. I'm very persuasive." Hermes shook his head at Dionysos and mouthed in comical exaggeration, *No, he's not.*”

SeductionPersuasionDionysusHermesPartiesAres
Book:Underworld's Daughter
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“The problem is politics is made a sport, almost as much a sport as football or baseball. When it comes to politics, adults and politicians do more finger-pointing and play more games than children ever do. Too often are we rooting for the pride of a team rather than the good of the nation.”

WarCountryGamesPoliticsPeaceEconomyFootballPrideRepublicanConflictBasketballBaseballCompetitionUnityDemocratChaosConservativeEntertainmentProductivitySeparationVanitySoccerDivisionSolidarityPoliticiansNationAthleticsSportBipartisanLiberalTrivialityUnificationPartiesChildishPartisanFingerpointing
Book:Healology
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“He had never been to a party like this and it struck him as a little bizarre, like a feverish nightmare version of school. It was the exact same mass of people, but they had all shown up in the middle of the night, and now there were no teachers and everyone stood in the hallways talking as loudly as possible, and there were no classes except lunch, or else the classes were all different and he hadn't ever studied for any of them.”

High SchoolLunchPartiesSimon BertucciHigh School Parties
Book:You
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“Oooohhhh, you’re one of those kids,” Whitney said, suddenly cracking up. “What in the hell is so damn funny? One of what kids?” “You had a horrible high school experience, didn’t you?” “High school is where demons go to eat little children.” “Carter!” She erupted into body-shaking laughter, rolling from left to right. “Oh my God, you are too much. This isn’t high school anymore!” “Um, hello, have you seen the movie Carrie?”

LoveRomanceHigh SchoolCarrieParties
Book:Declaration
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“Champagne arrived in flûtes on trays, and we emptied them with gladness in our hearts... for when feasts are laid and classical music is played, where champagne is drunk once the sun has sunk and the season of summer is alive in spicy bloom, and beautiful women fill the room, and are generous with laughter and smiles... these things fill men's hearts with joy and remind one that life’s bounty is not always fleeting but can be captured, and enjoyed. It is in writing about this scene that I relive this night in my soul.”

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Author:Roman Payne
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“I think about this offer carefully for a few seconds. Strangers, packed together in a loud, flashing room in scratchy clothes, making pointless small talk, eating food I don't like from plates that might not be properly clean, using cutlery with little bits of dried food still stuck to it. Intermittently dancing. Yeah: if Hades ever dragged me to the Underworld, that's exactly what I'd find there.”

AutismIntrovertAutisticPartiesOverstimulated
Book:Cassandra in Reverse
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“There was music from my neighbor's house through the summer nights. In his blue gardens men and girls came and went like moths among the whisperings and the champagne and the stars. At high tide in the afternoon I watched his guests diving from the tower of his raft, or taking the sun on the hot sand of his beach while his two motor-boats slit the waters of the Sound, drawing aquaplanes over cataracts of foam. On week-ends his Rolls-Royce became an omnibus, bearing parties to and from the city between nine in the morning and long past midnight, while his station wagon scampered like a brisk yellow bug to meet all trains. And on Mondays eight servants, including an extra gardener, toiled all day with mops and scrubbing-brushes and hammers and garden-shears, repairing the ravages of the night before. Every Friday five crates of oranges and lemons arrived from a fruiterer in New York--every Monday these same oranges and lemons left his back door in a pyramid of pulpless halves. There was a machine in the kitchen which could extract the juice of two hundred oranges in half an hour if a little button was pressed two hundred times by a butler's thumb. At least once a fortnight a corps of caterers came down with several hundred feet of canvas and enough colored lights to make a Christmas tree of Gatsby's enormous garden. On buffet tables, garnished with glistening hors-d'oeuvre, spiced baked hams crowded against salads of harlequin designs and pastry pigs and turkeys bewitched to a dark gold. In the main hall a bar with a real brass rail was set up, and stocked with gins and liquors and with cordials so long forgotten that most of his female guests were too young to know one from another. By seven o'clock the orchestra has arrived, no thin five-piece affair, but a whole pitful of oboes and trombones and saxophones and viols and cornets and piccolos, and low and high drums. The last swimmers have come in from the beach now and are dressing up-stairs; the cars from New York are parked five deep in the drive, and already the halls and salons and verandas are gaudy with primary colors, and hair shorn in strange new ways, and shawls beyond the dreams of Castile. The bar is in full swing, and floating rounds of cocktails permeate the garden outside, until the air is alive with chatter and laughter, and casual innuendo and introductions forgotten on the spot, and enthusiastic meetings between women who never knew each other's names. The lights grow brighter as the earth lurches away from the sun, and now the orchestra is playing yellow cocktail music, and the opera of voices pitches a key higher. Laughter is easier minute by minute, spilled with prodigality, tipped out at a cheerful word. The groups change more swiftly, swell with new arrivals, dissolve and form in the same breath; already there are wanderers, confident girls who weave here and there among the stouter and more stable, become for a sharp, joyous moment the centre of a group, and then, excited with triumph, glide on through the sea-change of faces and voices and color under the constantly changing light. Suddenly one of the gypsies, in trembling opal, seizes a cocktail out of the air, dumps it down for courage and, moving her hands like Frisco, dances out alone on the canvas platform. A momentary hush; the orchestra leader varies his rhythm obligingly for her, and there is a burst of chatter as the erroneous news goes around that she is Gilda Gray's understudy from the FOLLIES. The party has begun.”

1920sPartiesDescriptive ProseGatsby
Book:The Great Gatsby
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“Whether we are Republicans or Democrats, the ultimate goal should be holding our leaders to the positions and objectives that best fit our aims for a better society. People are dug into their own corners. Right and left. Blue and red. We’re more separated now than ever before, and the gap only continues to widen as technology allows us to create more and more ponds where only like-minded fish can swim: the cable news we watch, the websites we gravitate to, the people and groups we follow (and block!) on social media. The idea of a Democrat and a Republican sitting across from each other for a balanced, or even civil, discussion almost sounds impossible anymore. Perhaps the first step in that direction is to start holding our own party accountable. We may demonize the other side a little less once we start looking at our own team with a more honest eye and realize we’re not perfect either. Before I could admit (shudder) that the other side had any good ideas that might advance my core values, I first had to accept the fact that my side sometimes has some bad ones. That alone could be a big step toward both sides truly working together and unraveling some of the issues that both want resolved. Issues that are at the core of who we truly are beyond classifications and political tags.”

RepublicansBipartisanDemocratsParties
Book:Taken for Granted: How Conservatism Can Win Back the Americans That Liberalism Failed
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“When this reality, the one and only power that checks and disciplines man from within, vanishes because belief in it is slackening, the social domain falls prey to passions. The ensuing vacuum is filled by the gas of emotion. Everyone proclaims what best suits his interests, his whims, his intellectual manias. To escape the void and the perplexities of his own soul, a man will rush to join any party standard that is being carried through the streets. With society gone there remain only parties.”

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Book:Concord and Liberty
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“Lydia had devoted herself- and her husband's money- toward making their home a "destination." She fancied herself floating through a household of the East Coast elite, dazzling them with continental cuisine, priceless art and antiques, and a perfectly stocked wine cellar. They would tour her gardens and marvel at her ability to create such a cultural oasis in the southern desert. In reality, every evening Lydia watched her guests meander across her yard to the Belles', where they delighted in such southern delicacies as moonshine in Mason jars, bawdy conversation, and shoofly pie.”

SouthernPoshPartiesBellesLydia Jackson
Book:The Rock Orchard
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“Why can’t I do it?” [Isabel] asked…. “Do what?” “Just forget about everything. Just go somewhere and get smashed and pretend like there are no problems or consequences. I know why. Because there are still problems and consequences. And going and--and--partying doesn’t make them go away. I feel like I’m the only sane person in the world. I don’t get why this whole world runs on stupidity.”

StupidityConsequencesPartiesFrustrations
Book:Sinner
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“I picked up a book called Anagrams and started to read. I felt someone's eyes on me and looked up. Stuart. I held up the book like someone would hold up a glass. Cheers. Parities, right? Ha-ha. It's that I don't know what to do or say it's just that I've been to so many parties that I'm tired of them and would rather read this book ha-ha so don't worry about me I'll just be here.”

ReadingBooksShyIntrovertBookwormPartiesSocially IneptThe Memory BookLara Avery
Book:The Memory Book
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“The more I excelled at this life, the more drugs I sold, the more girls I got, the more parties I went to, the more messed up I felt. I was running a race to see who could screw up their life the most, and I was winning. The higher up I climbed and the more successful I became in this lifestyle, the more messed up things were.”

RunningMessed UpPartiesScrew Up
Book:Pursued: God’s relentless pursuit and a drug addict’s journey to finding purpose
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“It was not so much that he had anything against people in general, more that he saw no purpose in deliberately setting up occasions on which you stood around trying to think of something to say. Moreover, the whole process was self-perpetuating; the guest became the host in an act of social revenge and thus it was on for ever. The only sensible course was never to start it in the first place.”

PeopleSocial LifeSocializingSmall TalkPartiesHostingGatherings
Book:Passing On
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“Driving down deserted early morning roads. Round and round. Round downtown. Through naked streets. Lips pursed on two litre bottles of beer, but pursuing the lips of freedom's night. Swapping cars. Winding up at karaoke bars or Bolsi- the best place in town. For the food. For the folk. For the service. For the crema de papaya. And for that late night dawn's whiskey coffee.”

PartyTravelAlcoholBeerProsePoeticTravel WritingTravelingTravellingKaraokeBeatPartiesBeatnikParaguay1111Backpacker1111 Phenomenon11 11 PhenomenonCervezaAsuncion
Book:Route Number 11: Argentina, Angels & Alcohol
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“Colt, you’re going to be a nurse, not a cop. If anything happens, I’ll pay the fines for you.” “Still don’t need it.” “Why?” She paused for a moment, thinking. “Because you’re still trying to get into Daddy’s good books?” “Shut up,” I muttered, blowing my frustrations into another balloon—it grew between my palms. This had nothing to do with my father. “From what you’ve told me of the guy, he’s a jerking dick, Colt. I don’t know why you’re seeking his approval.”

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Book:Rescued
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