Quotes About Control

We have the best government money can buy.

Keep your feelings where you can reach them with the dictionary.

Island under French control—which means a community which depends upon quarantines, not sanitation, for its health.

When angry, count four; when very angry, swear

Censorship is telling a man he can't have steak just because a baby can't chew it.

I was back to being polite, the well-tempered paranoid. I didn't have much of a choice. If I wasn't polite, they could stick me with those needles or put me back in that little room or take away my visitor privileges or any number of other things. Besides, there didn't seem to be any urgency or anything to be gained by not being polite, the way there had been before. So I was polite. There was time.

What keeps the drinker drinking is the certainty that she can stop whenever she wants. It never would have occurred to me that stopping the pathetic little bit of drinking I did would have mattered.

I was back to being polite, the well-tempered paranoid. I didn't have much choice. If I wasn't polite, they could stick me with those needles or put me back in that little room or take away my visitor privileges or any number of other things. Besides, there didn't seem any urgency or anything to be gained by not being polite, the way there had been before. So I was polite. There was time.

Okay, you can be my slave. My flying kick nicks his nose. A warning. Worse if I weren't succumbing to squeal. What a heel. I'm too multiple to feel. A fork ahead. I take both.

Okay, you can be my slave. My flying kick nicks his nose. A warning. Worse if I weren't succumbing to squeal. What a feel. I'm too multiple to feel. A fork ahead. I take both.

I looked at my hands. I was holding onto the steering wheel so tightly, all my knuckles where shiny points of white, and my blinker was on, CLICK-click CLICK-click CLICK-click, so certain, so plain, so clear, and yet for all its mechanical conviction, blinking me in the wrong direction.

I stopped going out. Nothing could distract me. I felt like I was losing control. Something terrible was going to happen. Eventually something terrible did happen.

You can kill a man with those words. No gun. No bullets. Just words and a girl.

I can promise you that the world is a factory.  The sun stirs it, the humans rule it.  And I remain.  I carry them away.- spoken by death

The words. Why did they have to exist? Without them, there wouldn't be any of this. Without words, the Führer was nothing. There would be no limping prisoners, no need for consolation or wordly tricks to make us feel better. What good were the words?

The silence was always the greates temptation.

For a moment, I panic. It's that feeling of falling when you know without question, that you've lost control of your car, or made a mistake that's beyond repair. 'What do I do now?' I ask desperately. 'Tell me! What do I do now?' He remains calm. He looks at me closely and says, 'Keep living, Ed... It's only the pages that stop here.

The words. Why did they have to exist? Without words, the Fuhrer was nothing.

When it came down to it, one of them called the shots. The other did what he was told. The question is, what if the other is a lot more than one?

AN OBSERVATION*** A pair of train guards. A pair of grave diggers. When it came down to it, one of them called the shots. The other did what he was told. The question is, what if the 'other' is a lot more than one?

It was then that he also took the opportunity to say he was sorry that the Hubermann's son had not come home, In response, Papa told him that such things were out of their control. After all, he said, you should know it yourself--a young man is still a boy, and a boy sometimes has the right to be stubborn.

A pair of train guards. A pair of grave diggers. When it came down to it, one of them called the shots. The other did what he was told. The question is, what if the other is a lot more than one?

El silencio siempre era la mayor de las tentaciones.

The words. Why did they have to exist? Without them, there wouldn't be any of this. Without words, the Führer was nothing. There would be no limping prisoners, no need for consolation or wordly tricks to make us feel better.