Dullness is the only crime for which an editor ought to be hung.
At 50, I thought proudly: Here we are, half century! Being 60 was fairly frightening. You want to know how I spent my 70th birthday? I put on a completely black face, a fuzzy black Afro wig, wore black clothes and hung a black wreath on my door.
I definitely straddled the line and hung out with high-school dirtbags. I'd tell my parents I was spending the night at my friend's but actually go to Philly and see a show at Starlight Ballroom. I would drink and do all that stuff, but I didn't set any barns on fire.
I spent some time in France, visited Egypt and Mexico City. I hung out, biked around, planted some tomatoes. I did everything except wake up in a new town everyday. It was really boring. It's just life.
The operas that I do are more in the operetta world, but I've gotten to do them in all of these major opera companies so it's been really wild. And I feel comfortable in that world because I went Cincinnati Conservatory and I hung out with all those kinds of people, I love hanging out with them and I understand them and their "diva-osity."
People need to understand: Businesses are going to make mistakes. They shouldn't be shot and hung every time. We should apologize for it. We should make up for it. My shareholders paid for it. No customer was hurt, which is critical to me. But I hurt my shareholders, and I wish I hadn't.
Anyway, the fetish crowd, compared to some of the people that hung out with the skinheads, was all pussycats.
What I like about organizing things that way is that each story gets nearly full reign over its own space, but all of them are hung on a single string - the loosely-reined voice mentioned above. Thus the collection jogs away from suzerainty and past federation toward, I guess, alliance. Or maybe call each story a separate house on a single street? Or it's all a line of dive bars on some wharf front? What the hell, let's call reading the collection a pub crawl, but with words.
I would like to be mates with Richard Branson because I've hung out with him and he is just the loveliest person and obviously a very rich guy and has a lot of stuff going on, but he's actually a really, really sound person, and he's really positive and he's got a really good energy, so I'd like to hang out with him a bit more.
I wish I could have hung out with Patti Smith in the seventies, and also have some crazy times.
I just always liked the company. The people who hung around her were amazing storytellers, whether it was actors or crew. They were just exciting people. And I knew that they were different when I would go see a friend or stay at someone else's house. It just wasn't as cool. So I always loved the theater, and that's where I started: at a theater up in Canada.
I hung out with some crazy desert people. One guy was just walking around with only shorts on - he'd been walking with bare feet for the last two years. He was totally scarred and eating on all fours like a dog.
I'm just really not even that huge of a UFC fan. If you go on my Instagram or Twitter, you will notice ... people that I've actually met and hung out with, you know, I'm not like a huge UFC guy.
I met a woman in Albuquerque and she came and hung out with me in the trailer. It was really just more to kind of really understand my biggest concern was always the interrogation scenes. Remember, that's why I really wanted to meet somebody because you see those scenes on TV so much.
I think Paul Sarbanes and his wife Christine socialized with them [George and Heather Mitchell] more than I did, but we all hung out, or we saw each other in groups.
Certain miracles that I beheld there have haunted my memory ever since: a gray April morning of sirocco, when the almond blossoms, the flaming tulips, the young green of the vines, hung as if painted on the motionless air; a summer night when the roses had an unearthly pallor under a half-eaten moon, whose ghostliness was somehow one with their perfume and with the phosphorescence of dew tipping their petals; a day when the trees stood part submerged in fog, into which leaves dropped slowly, slowly, one after another, and sank out of sight.
I'm not immune to the charms of the female form. And when I was 17 and I spent every spare minute surfing, most of the girls we hung out with would be topless.
The British are absolutely hung up on class, and whenever they start to really - class for the English is like sex for Americans: They start to shake all over when the subject comes up.
I think if Jesus came for the first time, and he was 33 1/2 years old and hung out with these guys, where would he be? They'd probably be at a coffee bar getting a latte or something.
It's also one thing to see a celebrity or some kind of character on a TV show being gay. It's a totally different thing when you know your husband... not your husband, but your brother or your friend or the dude you hung out in high school was gay. I mean, that is what changes people's minds, what changes people's minds.
Before I had published anything, I still hung out with people who liked to write. None of us had published, so there was no talk about the business, and there was probably a lot more angsty talk back then. But these days maybe there are some more laments about the culture, but I would say no.
I hung around hippie-ish kind of people and, first of all, they never made any money. If you never make any money, you never have to declare any profession!
I was pretty quiet as a child. I kind of hung out with my family and listened to music and sh*t. I wasn't too outgoing at all.
You know what happened the last time a group of people said, 'Screw it, we don't care what you think'? They got hung as witches.
I shot me a nice deer, and I hung it on the den wall in my house. My neighbor comes over and he says, Did you shoot that thing? I said, Nope. He ran through the wall and got stuck. Here's your sign.
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