Pat Metheny Quotes

“I didn't want there to be a computer on stage. When I see people with computers on stage, I think, 'Are you sending e-mail?' That's so corny.”

“Now, come over here so I can pat you down.""But you don't have-" Percy stopped. "Uh, sure."He stood next to the armless statue. Terminus conducted a rigorous mental pat down."You seem to be clean," Terminus decided. "Do you have anything to declare?""Yes," Percy said. "I declare that this is stupid.”

“Pats cīnies, palīdz, domā, spried un sver,Pats esi kungs, pats laimei – durvis ver!”

“Pat wanted to comfort him for something she did not understand. She slipped her little hand into his...he had a warm pleasant hand. They walked home together so.”

“It’s the person who likes to pat dogs to whom dogs come for pats.”

“In matters of good-lookingness, we writers are the ugliest of the bunch, and normally our appearance is akin to that of someone investigating a crime scene; though the women in American writing keep producing world-class beauty in droves, and there are many breathtaking writers among them.”

“Miracles happen on Christmas, Pat. Everybody knows that shit.”

“News Flash!All politicians arms are going to be lengthened so that they will be able to pat themselves on the back for doing a great job.”

“I had the good fortune and opportunity to come home and to tell the truth; many soldiers, like Pat Tillman… did not have that opportunity. The truth of war is not always easy. The truth is always more heroic than the hype.”

“There was a time when a new deputy tried to teach Mr. Fruit about the difference between a red and a green light, but Mr. Fruit had resisted all efforts to reorder what he had been doing perfectly well for many years. He had not only monitored the comings and goings of the town, his presence softened the ingrained evil that flourished along the invisible margins of the town’s consciousness. Any community can be judged in its humanity or corruption by how it manages to accommodate the Mr. Fruits of the world. Colleton simply adjusted itself to Mr. Fruit’s harmonies and ordinations. He did whatever he felt was needed and he did it with style. “That’s the Southern way” my grandmother said. “That’s the nice way.”