Best 121 quotes in «las vegas quotes» category

We were somewhere around Barstow on the edge of the desert when the drugs began to take hold. I remember saying something like "I feel a bit lightheaded; maybe you should drive...." And suddenly there was a terrible roar all around us and the sky was full of what looked like huge bats, all swooping and screeching and diving around the car, which was going about a hundred miles an hour with the top down to Las Vegas.

What happens in Vegas, stays in Vegas - except the drone.

After the tragedy of Las Vegas sad incident... Definition of terrorism has got two meanings now, If done by a Muslim, IT IS AN ACT OF TERRORISM, but if committed by a non Muslim, it is an "ACT OF PURE EVIL!" Hypocrisy redefined...

After graduation, I dealt blackjack in Las Vegas to make ends meet. When I wasn’t working, to straighten out my head, I would go out into the desert – up to Red Rock and Pine Creek. I would hike those creek beds and find a comfortable red-sandstone boulder, where I could sit and draw. In those days before cell phones, I could spend hours undisturbed, drawing or painting

Why can't you just get married in Las Vegas like normal Americans?

Diesel" - his name sounded sweet coming out of her mouth --"I want you, and I mean I really, really want you. Please. Let's go back to my room.

Are ya glad to see me, or is that a roll of poker chips in your pants?

As the other two men moved toward the parking lot, Jay turned Ellie so that she had to face him. Now that she was safe and he was able to touch her, the anger burning inside him pushed toward the surface. “We talk here or at home. Your choice.” “Jay…” “No,” he said savagely. “I come home on a break to find a bullshit note from you, throwing away our relationship like it meant nothing, then I find out from Wyatt that you quit with no notice. You’re going to talk about whatever the fuck scared you enough to run. So you get a choice. Here. Or home.” Shifting from one foot to the other and still not looking at him, she finally whispered, “Home.

At first, I thought I would use photography and the collage and montage possibilities of Photoshop strictly for visualization in preparation for my paintings. But after I experimented with Photoshop and digital photography, I soon discovered new possibilities and found exciting new ways of presenting ideas. I soon found that I was more interested in pure image-making than I was in actually painting the images. Digital Camera, 2017

Best workout ever." Darius sat next to her and rested his back against the soft mat. She laughed and fumbled to put on her bra. He lifted the weight of her hair from her back and helped her pull down her silk shirt. For a moment, he held the length of her hair in his hand as he had the swing rope. He tugged gently to turn her face to his, and then released it. His face was open and relaxed, his pale blue eyes warm and content. His knees fell open to rest against hers. The feel of skin on skin, bone to bone, was easy, the most natural thing in the world. "Next time we should try the pommel horse." Mei laughed. "You still got pommeling on your mind?" "Oh yeah." He signed and tilted his chin to the ciling, exposing the length of his throat. "Some pommeling and tumbling would be good. We've got time to make up for.

Bosch had never liked Las Vegas, though he came often on cases. It shared a kinship with Los Angeles; both were places desperate people ran to. Often, when they ran from Los Angeles, they came here. It was the only place left.

Bravery isn't when you go looking for trouble; bravery is when trouble comes looking for you.

As you know from our trips to Belmont Park in San Diego, I can scream like a girl when required.” he said. Angie laughed then she grabbed him by the face and planted a kiss on the lips so fierce, Mel wondered if it was Angie’s way of putting a lip-lock protective spell on her man. She hoped it was and she hoped it worked.

Best workout ever." Darius sat next to her and rested his back against the soft mat. She laughed and fumbled to put on her bra. He lifted the weight of her hair from her back and helped her pull down her silk shirt. For a moment, he held the length of her hair in his hand as he had the swing rope. He tugged gently to turn her face to his, and then released it. His face was open and relaxed, his pale blue eyes warm and content. His knees fell open to rest against hers. The feel of skin on skin, bone to bone, was easy, the most natural thing in the world. "Next time we should try the pommel horse." Mei laughed. "You still got pommeling on your mind?" "Oh yeah." He signed and tilted his chin to the ceiling, exposing the length of his throat. "Some pommeling and tumbling would be good. We've got time to make up for.

Buy calmly and with meaning.

CCSD constantly recruits out-of-state teachers because the district doesn’t deliver on salary promises, which contributes to abysmal retention rates.

Cozy was a fun night by a fireplace with marshmallows. Cozy was a grandmother knitting Christmas sweaters. Cozy was new puppies in a litter. Cozy was not what he had in mind to do in that tent with Tes.

discovered is that I’m an image maker, and I don’t care how its made—whether it’s through painting or photography or drawing—I just want to create images.

Everyone is a bender away from oblivion.

Dragos leaned forward and told her, “You are the best lying non-liar I have ever met.

Ellie: Right now I’m wearing that gray skirt suit you like so much. Jay: You look like a naughty librarian in that thing. Ellie: That’s why you like it so much? Jay: I thought you knew. Ellie: Tonight I’ll wear just the skirt and jacket.

Everything good in my life is because of you.

He loved her lips. He could imagine them wrapped around his cock even now., leaving a red circle...a brand. A red brand on his cock.

He is a warden for Hells Prison. A politician shoved in the guise of a devil. He doesn’t care about the Lost Souls he steals with his promises of illusion. He just wants numbers like the republicans want votes. He lives with the other Fallen and Demons in a place made especially for their kind…The city of Sin itself. Las Vegas, Nevada. They call it Wanton. I call it hell. It's certainly hot enough."-Lilith

His own dragon roared in turmoil in his head: protect her, crush her. Her kind is evil. Protect your mate. Slippery is the water dragon. His dragon roared the ancient saying, and the tips of his wings pushed again at his back. You are starting to piss me off, he said to her.

Herbert Bayer was a photographer, an architect, a painter, and he was also the inventor of photo montage, as well as one of the originators—and probably the first modern—land artist. And so it was the idea that an artist could do all of these things using the same basic design concepts, and that it didn’t really matter if he was creating a beautiful land sculpture or if he was using photography or painting. He was really making art using the same methods, the same Bauhaus-type methods.

I have this theory, that this will be the only city that future archaeologists find, Las Vegas. The dry climate will preserve it all and teams of scientists in the year 5000 will carefully sweep and scrape away the sand to find pyramids and castles and replicas of the Eiffel Tower and the New York skyline and stripper poles and snapper cards and these future archaeologists will re-create our entire culture based solely on this one shallow and cynical little shithole. We can complain all we want that this city doesn’t represent us. We can say, Yes, but I hated Las Vegas. Or I only went there once. Well, I’m sure not all Romans reveled in the torture-fests at the Colosseum either, but there it is.

How? Give me permission, tell me it’s okay to strip you naked, kiss you wherever the need takes me, and f**k you until you can’t see straight.

I developed a thirst for great art, but it wasn’t until I was 20 that I finally visited my first museum, the Prado in Madrid. There, in 1968, my interest was caught by the paintings of Luis de Morales, a 16th-century artist from the harsh Extremadura region of Spain. Morales was a Mannerist, like El Greco or Parmigianino, who painted very graceful figures with long necks and limbs. He did a magnificently smooth sfumato modelling. But the effect that impressed me the most was a fine line that he applied around all of his figures. He didn’t need those illustrative lines, but they really made his figures ‘pop’ off the background.

I discovered is that I’m an image maker, and I don’t care how its made—whether it’s through painting or photography or drawing—I just want to create images.

If we do everything that’s comfortable, then what we come up with is just kind of a boring, comfortable result.

I’m so sorry, I’m trying to keep your family from putting a hit on Tate if he elopes with the prodigal daughter.” “They wouldn't,” Tate said. “They love me.” “Not that much they don’t,” Mel said

I love Las Vegas because it's the one city less classy than Los Angeles.

In Vegas, the veneer of glamor was bright but thin. You didn't have to look that hard to see the darker realities that lurked beneath the surface.

In that moment, there was nothing sweeter than the taste of his prey’s name on his lips.

It has occurred to me that when one is raised in the absence of culture – without access to galleries and museums – one has to fill the void. I turned to books, album covers, magazines, slides and prints – anything visually stimulating that I could lay my hands on.

IT IS SAID that time is unrelated to everything else. It goes on and on, unnoticing of our actions, our falls, our triumphs. Who’s to care then, if time does not remember us? It flies by, fleeting, inattentive and disinterested in any occupants of this earth. What are we, then, if time thinks so little of everyone it passes? Time is truly apathetic to the many to whom a little empathy would mean so much. ~April~ Disarming Reign of Blood

It's just, there's something compelling about very beautiful people. Especially strong-jawed men with stubble and intense eyes. You fall under their spell and believe anything they say.

I was sort of collaging and I would think, “Oh, I’ll collage this work and then I’ll paint it.” But as I progressed I began to realize that everything was changing: there were different ways of printing the work, and perhaps there were things I could use to develop the work that didn’t involve painting.

Jerkiness isn't as respectable as it used to be, not even in L.A. Which is why they had to build Vegas.

Living in the desert makes a lot of things very clear. It really gives you an unobstructed view. The severity of the landscape opens people up to their inner selves. St. Anthony went into the wilderness and was tormented by demons. Jesus was tempted by the devil in the desert. In an unexpected way, the Mojave is a very spiritual place.

LAURA ATCHISON, Author of "What Would A Wise Woman Do?", on DANGEROUS ODDS by Marisa Lankester: “Truth is always wilder than fiction. Hold on to your hats and enjoy this page turning look inside the world of sports betting from a good girl gone bad for love.

Marius, where are my pants?” His grin widened. “Wouldn’t you like to know?

Lourdes was an intoxicating place. I remember thinking that it was probably what Las Vegas would have been like if casinos and nightclubs had been replaced by Catholicism.

Mel opened her jaw wide to stretch it out before she spoke again so that her words were very clear. “I am going to kill you. I’m going to drag your sorry carcass out into the desert, pour honey all over you, and let the fire ants eat you.” “You’re angry,” he said. “Thank you, Captain Obvious,” Mel snapped.

My work was very meticulous and very slow as a painter and so the difficulty was—the question that my graduate thesis program had—was “how are you going to make a living doing this?” After I graduated, I continued on in the same way, but I discovered that I was progressing very quickly as an artist, and that before my pieces were done, I was getting tired of them. So I knew I had to find something that moved along quicker, that followed my natural path of growth as an artist.

One more cockeyed optimist thrown under the reality bus.

Neve, you're wicked," he groaned as she rocked up against him even harder. "I hope that's not a problem for you," she panted.

People move on. Friendship end.

People change. Life changes. It's the way of the world. Maybe it's meant to be.