I will survive, Tracy thought. I face mine enemies naked, and my courage is my shield.
I think so. But that doesn’t have to be a bad thing. Secrets can be a burden. I mean, once you know something, that’s it. You can never un-know it. You can never take that knowledge back. The innocenc...
I create with my mind. I don’t physically put up a building, but I make it possible. I dream a dream of bricks and concrete and steel, and make it come true. I create jobs for hundreds of people; arch...
Greed, for lack of a better word, is good. Greed is right. Greed works. Greed clarifies, cuts through, and captures the essence of the evolutionary spirit. Greed, in all of its forms—greed for life, f...
Dana Evans was a foreign correspondent for the Washington Tribune Enterprises Broadcasting System. She reported the news every day, and Oliver tried not to miss her broadcasts. She was one of the best...
But remember, sonny, you can’t con people unless they’re greedy to begin with. W. C. Fields had it right. You can’t cheat an honest man.
Business is a game, played for fantastic stakes, and you're in competition with experts. If you want to win, you have to learn to be a master of the game.
All rich Americans are crazy, especially their women.
She could go from a blissful euphoria to a desperate misery. She had no control over her emotions.
That there must be a cure for every disease. Health is natural, disease is unnatural.
Maniac.
You know, it's not fair. Women are judged inferior until we prove ourselves, and men are judged superior until they prove what assholes they are.
You have two choices. you can keep running and hiding and blaming the world for your problems, or you can stand up for yourself and decide to be somebody important.
You can keep running and hiding and blaming the world for your problems, or you can stand up for yourself and decide to be somebody important.
When they die no one will ever know that once they lived.
What had started as idle conversation began to take concrete shape as a plan of action.
The future was clay, to be moulded day by day, but the past was bedrock, immutable.
She used a lot of makeup—thick, dark eyeliner, false eyelashes, colored eye shadow and bright lipstick. It was as though she were trying to hide her beauty.
She had found that men who were outstandingly handsome were either monumentally stupid or unbearably dull.
Men! It would be a wonderful world if we could live without the bastards. Or maybe it wouldn’t. Who knows?