Best 839 quotes in «california quotes» category

He owes me nothing, yet gives me everything in return. —SHEA

Hidden Highlands was maybe a little richer but not that different from many of the other small, wealthy and scared enclaves nestled in the hills and valleys around Los Angeles. Walls and gates, guardhouses and private security forces were the secret ingredients of the so-called melting pot of southern California.

He treats me with respect; he opens doors for me, makes me laugh, and comforts me when I cry. He owes me nothing, yet gives me everything in return.” —SHEA

Hoosiers aren't quitters. California people are quitters. No offense. It's just you've got restlessness in your blood." "I don't," she said, but he went on. "Your people came here looking for something better. Gold, fame, citrus. Mirage. They were feckless, yeah? Schemers. That's why no one wants them now. Mojavs.

I can’t take any more of being careful around her. I want her. Not just for now, but for always.—HEW

If it appears from the face of the [unlawful detainer] complaint that the plaintiff is an improper plaintiff, a demurer will lie. If it is not apparent from the face of the complaint, the issue must generally be raised as an affirmative defense in the answer. The fact that a plaintiff is not a proper plaintiff would appear on the face of the complaint, for example, when • The complaint states that the landlord has sold the property; or • The name of the plaintiff is not the same as the name of the landlord on the lease attached to the complaint, and the plaintiff does not allege that he or she is the successor in interest.

I guess you probably won't be drinking the Johnnie Walker Black Label I brought for you," Corinna remarked. "I honor your gesture, but I only drink reverse-osmosis water these days, " Bernard said. "I honor your gesture?" My God, look what happens to Hong Kong men when they move to California, Corinna thought in horror.

I ain't a Communist necessarily, but I have been in the red all my life.

I grew excited when I realized this basic asymmetry implied that nothing – no evidence, no information, no facts or data – connected me to the stranger except for the evidence of my own personal observations which remained private as long as I kept them that way. And what did that mean? First of all, it meant I could influence the stranger’s life in any way I wanted without him or anyone else suspecting my involvement. But what did that mean? Among other things, it meant I could disrupt this man’s life in some rather extreme ways and never become a suspect in a subsequent investigation. Or did it mean that? I wasn’t sure but I felt I needed to find out.

I imagined that my own life was simple and sweet, and sometimes it was, but there were odd things going on around town. There were rumors. There were stories. Everything was unmentionable but nothing was unimaginable. This mystical flirtation was the idea of “sin”—this sense that it was possible to go “too far,” and that many people were doing it—was very much with us in Los Angeles in 1968 and 1969. A demented and vortical tension was building in the community. The jitters were setting in. I recall a time when the dogs barked every night and the moon was always full.

I imagined that my own life was simple and sweet, and sometimes it was, but there were odd things going around town. There were rumors. There were stories. Everything was unmentionable but nothing was unimaginable. This mystical flirtation with the idea of “sin"–this sense that it was possible to go "too far”, and that many people were doing it–this was very much with us in Los Angeles in 1968 and 1969. A demented and seductive vortical tension was building in the community. The jitters were setting in. I recall a time when the dogs barked every night and the moon was always full.

Imitation nation by nation, the simple means of communication and conflict. Stranger than fiction, always has been this way. In the heart of Rome, I never wanted this Halloween season to end, sweet dreams of dark love and wild west wide nights the universe was inside all along. The mystic river beyond metaphysical questions, I can't believe these pink walls anymore, can't remember the names of every street corner I lost my mind to every kind of street art sensual experience. Sunrise rooftops, all the make-up in the world couldn't heal the wounds from the false words in the every day scene of the fiery red lips predicting a gone future puff by single breath. Seeing my skin peel off the city lights.

I know they have palm trees in Southern California. I mean I'm not a complete moron, I've watched 90210, and everything.

In California the only way to look like you are getting older is to look like you are getting younger...if you can move your forehead over the age of forty, then people become very suspicious.

In California gold was what God was in the rest of the country: everything, everywhere.

In California depth is measured in feet: six feet on one end of the pool and three feet on the other.

[In] NIVO 1, LLC v. Antunez, 217 Cal.App.4th Supp. 1 (2013) The Appellate Division of the Los Angeles Superior Court held that a tenant may not be evicted for failure to buy renter's insurance even if the lease requires purchasing insurance.

I’m a Texas girl, with a California soul.

In Spain, hilly terrain and antiquated planting and harvest practices keep farmers from retrieving more than about 100 pounds [of almonds] per acre. Growers in the Central Valley, by contrast can expect up to 3000 pounds an acre. But for all their sophisticated strategies to increase yield and profitability, almond growers still have one major problem - pollination. Unless a bird or insect brings the pollen from flower to flower, even the most state-of-the-art orchard won't grow enough nuts. An almond grower who depends on wind and a few volunteer pollinators in this desert of cultivation can expect only 40 pounds of almonds per acre. If he imports honey bees, the average yield is 2,400 pounds per acre, as much as 3,000 in more densely planted orchards. To build an almond, it takes a bee.

it is hard for me to believe that Cornelius Vanderbilt did not sense, at some point in time, in some dim billiard room of his unconscious, that when he built “The Breakers” he damned himself.

I suddenly realized I was in California. Warm, palmy air - air you can kiss - and palms.

It's the easiest thing in the world to get to California-you just aim yourself west and start walking.

I thought of the cool, fresh air of the city I'd always dreamed of living in. The art museums and trolleys and the mysterious fog that blanketed it. I could almost smell the cappuccinos I'd planned to drink in bohemian cafes or hear the indie music in the bookstores I would spend my free time in. I pictured the friends I'd make, my kindred art people, and the dorm room I was supposed to move into.

It was hard to know what to make of the brothers' dark infatuation with death. It was strange, wildly anomalous in sun-baked Southern California, where the light is so bright it bleaches the shadows.

I was not surprised when the Golden State Killer turned out to be a police officer.

I’ve always felt there’s something genetically instilled and inbred in Californians—that California is a place of death, a place people are drawn to because they don’t realize deep down they’re actually afraid of what they want. It’s new, and they’re escaping their histories while at the same time moving headlong toward their own extinctions. Desire and death are all mixed up with the thrill and the risk of the unknown. It’s a variation of what Freud called the “death instinct.

Living in California, everyone learns to adapt their actor or actress within.

McNeil, who was a pretty observing man about some things, found that California was 'The only country in which I have seen true democracy prevailing.

I've never been somewhere I belonged, but there are places where I think I could be happy. Like San Francisco. Well, do art museums count? Because I feel like I belong in them.

My Uber driver in Sacramento was not like my San Franciso Uber from earlier that day at SFO. My SAC Uber driver’s first presdential election was JFK-Nixon (or Eisenhower in 1956) and he was already drawing a Social Security check. "Father Time" overshot my fixed location (twice) and then didn’t listen to the navigation instructions. This guy’s signature move (and totem animal) is a U-Turn, a mile past the original juncture.

No reported cases indicate whether a breach of an implied covenant of good faith may be raised as a defense to a residential unlawful detainer action [i.e., eviction]. Note, however, that a breach of the implied warranty of habitability may be so raised. See chap 15. It has been argued that the implied covenant of good faith requires a landlord to show just cause to evict a residential tenant. See Bell, Providing Security of Tenure for Residential Tenants: Good Faith as a Limitation on the Landlord's Right to Terminate, 19 Ga L Rev 483 (1985). If the landlord has breached the implied covenant of good faith, the tenant should consider raising that breach as an affirmative defense to the unlawful detainer action. Because the courts have not yet decided whether the covenant of good faith applies in residential unlawful detainer actions, tenants must look to commercial lease cases for law concerning the covenant. Those cases have found an implied covenant. See §§19.20–19.24.

Maria, it sounds like he was insane. Rational people don't intentionally addict people. I feel sorry for those poor people who were unsuspecting victims.

Of course the activists—not those whose thinking had become rigid, but those whose approach to revolution was imaginatively anarchic—had long ago grasped the reality which still eluded the press: we were seeing something important. We were seeing the desperate attempt of a handful of pathetically unequipped children to create a community in a social vacuum. Once we had seen these children, Ave could no longer overlook the vacuum, no longer pretend that the society’s atomization could be reversed. This was not a traditional generational rebellion. At some point between 1945 and 1967 we had somehow neglected to tell these children the rules of the game we happened to be playing. Maybe we had stopped believing in the rules ourselves, maybe we were having a failure of nerve about the game. Maybe there were just too few people around to do the telling. These were children who grew up cut loose from the web of cousins and great-aunts and family doctors and lifelong neighbors who had traditionally suggested and enforced the society’s values. They are children who have moved around a lot, San Jose, Chula Vista, here. They are less in rebellion against the society than ignorant of it, able only to feed back certain of its most publicized self-doubts, Vietnam, Saran-Wrap, diet pills, the Bomb. They feed back exactly what is given them. Because they do not believe in words—words are for “typeheads,” Chester Anderson tells them, and a thought which needs words is just one more of those ego trips—their only proficient vocabulary is in the society’s platitudes. As it happens I am still committed to the idea that the ability to think for one’s self depends upon one’s mastery of the language, and I am not optimistic about children who will settle for saying, to indicate that their mother and father do not live together, that they come from “a broken home.” They are sixteen, fifteen, fourteen years old, younger all the time, an army of children waiting to be given the words.

One must be awake to his own duty, however little it seems, and then be vigilant in condemning those who would do bad things, and vigilant also to reward with honor those who are great in doing good things.

On Friday the 13th of April 2029, an asteroid large enough to fill the Rose Bowl as though it were an egg cup, will fly so close to Earth, that it will dip below the altitude of our communication satellites. We did not name this asteroid Bambi. Instead, it's named Apophis, after the Egyptian god of darkness and death. If the trajectory of Apophis at close approach passes within a narrow range of altitudes called the 'keyhole,' the precise influence of Earth's gravity on its orbit will guarantee that seven years later in 2036, on its next time around, the asteroid will hit Earth directly, slamming in the Pacific Ocean between California and Hawaii. The tsunami it creates will wipe out the entire west coast of North America, bury Hawaii, and devastate all the land masses of the Pacific Rim. If Apophis misses the keyhole in 2029, then, of course, we have nothing to worry about in 2036.

Only in California could the night air be lit not by fireflies, but radioactive porn star cumshots.

Shea is in my arms in seconds. We’re not just holding each other but pressing out all the bad, letting it seep from us, and allowing it to disintegrate in the air, leaving room for only the good within our embrace. With everything that we have with each other, I think there is no room for anything negative. Not anymore. —HEW

Nothing was in walking distance, so the sidewalks stayed empty and clean, free from the discoloration dirty-shoed pedestrians cause.

Privacy, self-reliance, choice -- all these can and must remina core American values. Yet so too must we remember that other core American value, the value of community. And we must redefine community more broadly to include not just our street or our tract, but our town, our metropolis, our region.

Not all clouds fit over the ocean. Rain finds the lemon tree but rarely In California. Still a tree knows what to do, This act of holding still. I remember that Drinking myself. The at first not wanting To be wet, and then the wetness. Not holding still exactly, just holding Still enough.

Some rent control ordinances permit a landlord to evict a tenant in order to rehabilitate a unit. [....] Such evictions are usually conditioned on the landlord's obtaining all necessary permits before the eviction. Some ordinances require that the tenant be given (1) the right to occupy any vacant unit that the same landlord owns within the city, (2) the right to reoccupy the vacated unit on the completion of the rehabilitation work, or (3) a payment to defray the costs of relocation. [....] A landlord who refuses to allow the tenant to reoccupy the vacated unit is subject to liability under the governing ordinance.

Pushed times make a monkey chew pepper.~ Creole proverb. (challenging times inspire unique actions)

Sometimes it was hard to breathe, knowing how small my world could be. Maybe in San Francisco it wouldn't feel like the universe was conspiring to keep me in a bubble.

Speaking of California, the Illinois State Register asked: "Shall this garden of beauty be suffered to lie dormant in its wild and useless luxuriance? . . . myriads of enterprising Americans would flock to its rich and inviting prairies; the hum of Anglo-American industry would be heard in its valleys; cities would rise upon its plains and sea-coast, and the resources and wealth of the nation increased in an incalculable degree.

Southern California, which is shaped somewhat like a coffin, is a giant sanatorium with flowers where people come to be cured of life itself in whatever way .... This is the last stop before the sun gives up and sinks into the black, black ocean, and night - usually starless here - comes down.

Subletting may create a different problem for the tenant who sublets. Under some [rent control] ordinances, a tenant who sublets for a fixed term (e.g., a 3-month vacation) may not be able to evict the subtenant at the end of the subletting. This situation would arise if only persons with a specified record interest in the property have a right to evict for owner occupancy. The tenant (the seblessor) would not be able to evict the subtenant to reoccupy the premises, because the seblessor is defined as a "landlord" in the ordinance but not as an "owner." (If there is no other cause to evict, the owner-landlord could not evict the subtenant unless he or she planned to occupy the unit.) Counsel representing a subtenant should review the local ordinance to ascertain whether it defines a tenant as the "landlord" of the subtenant or if the definition of "tenant" includes any "subtenant." If so, the subtenant would have all the rights of a tenant under the ordinance. At least one ordinance specifically addresses this problem by providing that any landlord (not just an owner) may evict to recover possession for his or her own occupancy "as a principal residence" if the landlord previously occupied the unit and reserved the right to recover possession under the rental agreement. See Berkeley Mun[icipal] C[ode] §§13.76.040, 13.76.130. See also SF Rent Bd Rules & Regs §6.15C(1), discussed in §17.5. (In San Francisco, a well-informed tenant who is subletting will expressly reserve continued exclusive "possession" of some limited space so that the tenant can immediately enter on returning to the premises. Then, if necessary, and with proper compliance with the regulations, the tenant can evict the subtenant without cause.) It is unclear whether the Berkeley ordinance prohibits a landlord from evicting an unapproved subtenant and recovering possession, especially in light of the Costa-Hawkins Act (see §§17.1A–17.1G). If the landlord may not, then apparently the tenant who sublets may not object to further subletting by the subtenant. Such further subletting might, however, bar the tenant's right to recover possession. Berkeley Mun C §13.76.130 specifies that the right to recover occupancy must be in "an existing rental agreement with the current tenants." (Emphasis added.) A tenant who takes in a roommate by subletting must be distinguished from one who takes in a roommate with the landlord's consent, i.e., a cotenant. The roommate becomes a tenant of the landlord rather than a subtenant of the original tenant. In this situation, the original tenant has no right to evict the roommate. Only the landlord may evict and must have just cause [as defined by the ordinance] to do so if the roommate is found to be a tenant under the local eviction control ordinance.

She ran a streak of foundation under each eye, highlighter down the bridge of her nose, and bronzer beneath each cheekbone—a layer of armor before battle. Because that’s what these parties were to her, a war on all the heartbreaking boys in the San Francisco Bay Area.

The bag was a hybrid I had picked up at a store called Suitcase City while I was plotting my comeback. [...] It had a logo on it -- a mountain ridgeline with the words "Suitcase City" printed across it like the Hollywood sign. Above it, skylights swept the horizon, completing the dream image of desire and hope. I think that logo was the real reason I liked the bag. Because I knew Suitcase City wasn't a store. It was a place. It was Los Angeles.

The DCA Tower of Terror is a powerful visual landmark that looms over the park day and night. It's not just the tallest building at Disneyland Resort; it's the tallest building in Anaheim. Amtrak travelers know they're approaching the Anaheim train station when they see the Tower of Terror looming in the distance.

The flagstone terrace overlooked a golf course. At the bottom of its green slopes lay a dazzling band of sea. Twenty or thirty miles out, a string of brown hunchbacked islands lay on the bright horizon like basking tortoises. The woman looked at the Pacific and its islands as if they belonged to her. I found out later that one of them did.