It [culture] invites people to diminish themselves, and dehumanize themselves by behaving like machines, meme processors of memes passed down from Madison Avenue, and Hollywood, and what have you.
My biggest thrill came the night Elgin Baylor and I combined for 73 points at Madison Square Garden. Elgin had 71 of them.
If humanity has any hope of effecting real change for the better, it will not come from the Madison Avenue false reality makers who've cast Barack Obama as the savior of the world. To alter our course from tyranny to liberty, to defeat the corrupt elite, we must get past the puppets and confront the real power structure of the planet.
No, I don't think a 68-year-old copywriter . . . can write with the kids. That he's as creative. That he's as fresh. But he may be a better surgeon. His ad may not be quite as fresh and glowing as the Madison Ave. fraternity would like to see it be, and yet he might write an ad that will produce five times the sales. And that's the name of the game, isn't it?
It took about three minutes for the unassuming Waffle House to become the new offices of the law firm of Amber, Amber, Amber, and Madison. They set up camp in a clump of booths in the corner opposite from us. A few of them gave me an "oh, good, you are still alive" nod, but for the most part, they had no interest in anyone else.
But as we are looking toward our future, I'm not sure it matters what we want to be but rather who we want to be. Someone honest or deceitful?Someone kind or cruel?Someone loyal or unfaithful? In any profession we can elect to be any of those things. I think this assignment is not only about what we choose to do but about who we choose to be. I choose to always be loyal to myself. -Raven Madison
Politicians in Washington and Madison aren't hearing, aren't listening to their constituents and prioritizing getting people back to work and growing our economy.
Once a person knows a kiss and a kind word, you can't blame him for never wanting to live without them again. - "The Bridges of Madison County"
His name was Rambo, and he was just some nothing kid for all anybody knew, standing by the pump of a gas station at the outskirts of Madison, Kentucky.
Mom was 50 when my Dad died. She got on a bus every weekday for years, and rode 40 miles each morning to Madison. She earned a new degree and learned new skills to start her small business. It wasn't just a new livelihood. It was a new life.
I want to get to the point where one day I don't have to have anything but a rug and a microphone stand on stage and still be able to sell out places like Madison Square Garden, like Bruce Springsteen does.
There hasn't been anybody else write a Constitution like Madison. There just hasn't been, because that person hasn't existed anywhere but here.
We’ve been secretly datin’ since last week.” He gives me a smile and a look that says I’m his one-and-only. That smile might deceive Madison, but I know he’s full of it. “Isn’t that right, K.?” He squeezes me tighter. “Uh-huh,” I squeak out. Madison shakes her head fast, as if she can’t believe what she’s hearing. “Nobody in their right mind chooses Kiara Westford over me.” She’s right. We’re busted. “Wanna bet?” My eyes go wide when Carlos bends his head down to me. “Kiss me, cariño.
Hey! Guy with scary eyes?" Madison called out. "You know what a moose does when someone insults her family?" Ivan raised his eyebrows. "She does this." Madison crouched down and charged Ivan. Her head hit him in the stomach.
Do you remember what I told you that first time at Taki's? About faerie food?" "I remember you said you ran down Madison Avenue naked with antlers on your head", said Clary, blinking silver drops off her lashes.
What is self-image? Who started talking about one? I rather fancy it was Madison Avenue.
According to the three missed calls from her mother—who thought Madison had been kidnapped in the big, bad city and was now being held for an ungodly sum of money—the four text messages from her brother wondering if she knew how to navigate the beltway—because apparently little sisters couldn’t drive—and the voice mail from her father warning there was a problem with the reservations, she was late for brunch.
Pens?" Chase echoed. Bridget rolled her eyes. "Pens are by far more stimulating than most people." "I'm kind of wondering what you're going with those pens," Chase said Madison scrunched up her nose. "Get your mind out of the gutter." "My mind is always in the gutter around you.
Wrong' training can be a very innocent thing. Consider a father who allows his child to read good books. That child may soon cease to watch television or go to the movies, nor will he eventually read Book-of-the-Month Club selections, because they are ludicrous and dull. As a young man, then, he will effectually be excluded from all of Madison Avenue and Hollywood and most of publishing, because what moves him or what he creates is quite irrelevant to what is going on: it is too fine. His father has brought him up as a dodo.
His lips hovered over hers. “No,” he snarled. Madison wasn’t sure to whom he was talking, but then his mouth was crushing hers, and her world became him—the touch and feel of his lips pressing down, forcing hers to respond. It wasn’t a gentle kiss or a sweet exploration. It was angry and raw, breathtaking and soul burning. Right now, she didn’t want gentle. She wanted hard and fast, him and her, on the floor, even the bear rug, both of them naked and sweating.
I did large drawings of couples having sex! Men and woman enjoying intercourse and oral sex in a Madison Avenue Gallery? That was the first time I broke a barrier that made me think, some idiot is going to blow my brains out for sure.
Calvin: Trick or treat! Adult: Where's your costume? What are you supposed to be? Calvin: I'm yet another resource-consuming kid in an overpopulated planet, raised to an alarming extent by Madison Avenue and Hollywood, poised with my cynical and alienated peers to take over the world when you're old and weak... Am I scary, or what?
I was really shocked that Madison Square Garden sold out in a day. It was very amazing. But the reason we got back together is because the fans wanted us to get back together.
Adorable in her not-very-bright submissiveness, charming in her childlike delight in shiny floors, even forgivable in her spiteful competition for the whitest, brightest wash, Madison Avenue's girl-next door is all the American male could wish for: unless, by some miscarriage, he should fancy human companionship.
In Madison's famous formulation in the Federalist, constitutional restrictions on government assume that we "first enable the government to control the governed." If the public authorities can be outgunned or bribed, the vibrancy of the private sector can be pathological.
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