You have to respect your own mortality.
You can’t turn a ‘no’ to a ‘yes’ without a ‘maybe’ in between.
You can’t love the people you kill.
When they bury me, it won’t be in my backyard. And when they come to pay their respects, they’ll have to wait in line.
What a martyr craves more than anything is a sword to fall on. So, you sharpen the blade, hold it at just the right angle.
The road to power is paved with hypocrisy, and casualties. Never regret.
The only thing more satisfying than convincing someone to do what I want, is failing to persuade them on purpose. It’s like a “Do Not Enter” sign, it just begs you to walk through the door.
Such a waste of talent. He chose money over power. In this town, a mistake nearly everyone makes. Money is the McMansion in Sarasota that starts falling apart after 10 years. Power is the old stone building that stands for centuries. I cannot respect someone who doesn’t see the difference.
Such a pity how much ruthless pragmatism gets weighed down by family values.
Power is a lot like real estate. It’s all about location, location, location. The closer you are to the source, the higher your property value.
My husband doesn’t apologize, even to me.
It’s important to be organized and ruthless. Three piles, I always say. The stuff you wanna keep, the stuff you might need later that you put in storage, and the stuff you have to destroy.
