Saloons Quotes

I want a woman who can go to the saloon with me, not hypocritical, fame seeking

There is no law, divine or human, that the saloon respects.

Right now in Oregon anybody can open a saloon, and hire people to come in and have sex in front of their patrons.

The semi-colon is a burp, a hiccup. It’s a drunk staggering out of the saloon at 2 a.m., grabbing your lapels on the way and asking you to listen to one more story.

The best talk is artless, the talk of people trying to reassure or comfort themselves, women in the sun, grouped around baby carriages, talking about their weeks in the hospital or the way meat has gone up, or men in saloons, talking to combat the loneliness everyone feels.

Fortune knocks at every man’s door once in a life, but in a good many cases the man is in a neighboring saloon and does not hear her.

If I were hungry and friendless today, I would rather take my chances with a saloon-keeper than with the average preacher.

The true speech of man is idiomatic, if not of the earth and sky, then at least of the saloon and the bleachers.

If I had to choose between putting a saloon or a liberal church on a corner, I’d choose the saloon every time. People who drink up the pay check in the saloon are less likely to become Pharisees, thinking that they don’t need the Great Physician, than those who weekly swill the soporific doctrine of man’s goodness.

The saloon is a liar. It promises good cheer and sends sorrow. It promises prosperity and sends adversity. It promises happiness and sends misery…. It is God’s worst enemy and the devil’s best friend.

I got into a brawl one night in a saloon in Greenwich Village. Elia Kazan, a great director, saw me put out a couple of hecklers and figures there was some Big Daddy in me, just lyin’ dormant. And out it came. People still do call me Big Daddy, but to me, inside, I’m no Big Daddy at all.

Sometimes I need to reject the music proposed for my songs because the musicians misunderstand that the Fanny Crosby who once wrote for the people in the saloons has merely changed the lyrics. Oh my no. The church must never sing it’s songs to the melodies of the world.

As a personal matter I don’t give a damn where mosques, churches, temples or other religious shrines and symbols are built as long as they don’t tear down decent saloons in the process.

The tide of visitors will float slowly about the bottom of the valley as harmless scum collecting in hotel and saloon eddies, leaving the rocks and falls eloquent as ever.

men will have to resign themselves to the fact that the old-time saloon, for men only, will never again exist. Once a woman has felt a brass rail under her instep, there can be no more needlepoint footstools for her.

I wanted to get the guy who works next to me in the office something he really wants, but how do you wrap up a saloon?

Hypocrites in the Church? Yes, and in the lodge and at the home. Don’t hunt through the Church for a hypocrite. Go home and look in the mirror. Hypocrites? Yes. See that you make the number one less.

What about the poor salesman who is calling into the office from the corner saloon instead of the home sickbed he claims he is in?

Tolerance to my mind has been greatly overrated . . . . I take as much pleasure in detesting the good brothers and sisters of the [Anti-Saloon] League as they have in hating me.

In one dancing saloon I saw the only rational method of art criticism I have ever come across. Over the piano was printed a notice: ‘Please do not shoot the pianist. He is doing his best.’

When I’m writing in long hand, it just goes on and on and on. When I was in the saloon business, I would just greet people and talk to them and avoid taxes, and getting behind the bar. What else.

Think of drawing as a way of talking about the things that interest you. Think of those wonderful documents, drawings made on scraps of paper by the lesser Dutch masters while they were wandering around market places and sitting in saloons.

The man who votes for the saloon is pulling on the same rope with the devil, whether he knows it or not.

God Almighty never intended that the devil should triumph over the Church. He never intended that the saloons should walk rough-shod over Christianity.

It was shocking to see a leg! You’ve never seen a leg in these stories. We made it a little saloon girl. We played up on many elements because everything is just very covered and the tights are very thick and heavy. And then to have it all fell apart, absolutely, we wanted to see the leg!

A horrid alcoholic explosion scatters all my good intentions like bits of limbs and clothes over the doorsteps and into the saloon bars of the tawdriest pubs.

Salvador [Dali] was brought up in Spain, a country colored by the legends of Hannibal, El Greco, and Cervantes. I was brought up in Ohio, a region steeped in the tradition of Coxey’s Army, the Anti-Saloon League, and William Howard Taft.

Let there be dancing in the streets, drinking in the saloons, and necking in the parlor.

If the history of the American sentence were a John Ford movie, its second act would conclude with the young Ernest Hemingway walking into a saloon, finding an etiolated Henry James slumped at the bar in a haze of indecision, and shooting him dead.

It is the music which makes it what it is; it is the music which changes the place from the rear room of a saloon in back of the yards to a fairy place, a wonderland, a little comer of the high mansions of the sky.