Liz Taylor Quotes

I think it would be very glamorous to be reincarnated as a great big ring on Liz Taylor's finger.

What's great about this country is America started the tradition where the richest consumers buy essentially the same things as the poorest. You can be watching TV and see Coca-Cola, and you can know that the President drinks Coke, Liz Taylor drinks Coke, and just think, you can drink Coke, too. A Coke is a Coke and no amount of money can get you a better Coke than the one the bum on the corner is drinking. All the Cokes are the same and all the Cokes are good.

Scopul existenței fiecărui individ este plăcerea și cine o contestă ori e ipocrit, ori imbecil.

I think about pasta in the shape of Hello Kitty, stockings with diamond seams up the back, Marilyn's crumbling cake-mascara, and Liz Taylor's new white hair. I haven't got time for the trivials.

Când întâlnești un bărbat ca Don Juanul tău, imposibil, scandalos de seducător, amuză-te cât poți, dar ai grijă să-ți încui inima în safe superblindat. Dacă ești însă slabă de înger, cotește-o urgent pe altă uliță.

Thank you,” he said as he gathered his bags and looked at me. “I love you more than anyone has ever loved anyone in the history of the world. Do you know that? Do you know that Antony didn’t love Cleopatra as much as I love you? Do you know that Romeo didn’t love Juliet as much as I love you?” I laughed. “I love you, too,” I said. “More than Liz Taylor loved Richard Burton.

It pained me to think something so inane, but that morning, as she’d subjected me to an endless T-Swift playlist, I realized that Liz was a fucking Taylor Swift song. She was. Vibey and romantic, but with the uncanny ability to reach inside of you and grab your heart with her absolute specificity. Liz Buxbaum wasn’t just a redhead; no, she was a girl whose hair was the color of the late September maple leaves that fluttered on the home base tree in her front yard. And Liz Buxbaum didn’t just wear a sweater, for God’s sake. No, she wore an apple green cardigan that smelled like Chanel No.5 and the front seat of your car, where she’d left it for a week. She said it reminded her of the way the rain sounded on the roof the first time you kissed her.

A Coke is a Coke and no amount of money can get you a better Coke than the one the bum on the corner is drinking. All the Cokes are the same and all the Cokes are good. Liz Taylor knows it, the President knows it, the bum knows it, and you know it.

MARIE ,THE MADAM-She has the looks of Liz Taylor and the brains of a Wall Street broker. " We were lovers for a hot five minutes when I first hit the TL. Marie always liked a lot of diamonds,and I've always liked alot of girls. With that combination,we're better off as friends.

THE SOUNDTRACK OF WES AND LIZ Someone Like You | Van Morrison Paper Rings | Taylor Swift Lovers | Anna of the North ocean eyes | Billie Eilish Bad Liar | Selena Gomez Public Service Announcement (Interlude) | Jay-Z Up All Night | Mac Miller How Would You Feel (Paean) | Ed Sheeran Hello Operator | The White Stripes Paradise | Bazzi Sabotage | Beastie Boys Feelin’ Alright | Joe Cocker Someone Like You | Adele Monkey Wrench | Foo Fighters Bella Luna | Jason Mraz Forrest Gump | Frank Ocean Electric (feat. Khalid) | Alina Baraz Kiss | Tom Jones Enter Sandman | Metallica Death with Dignity | Sufjan Stevens We Are Young | fun. feat. Janelle Monáe New Year’s Day | Taylor Swift River | Joni Mitchell

It pained me to think something so inane, but that morning, as she'd subjected me to an endless T-Swift playlist, I realized that Liz was a fucking Taylor Swift song.

Finally, I say, “long dark hair, blue-violet eyes, slender, tall, she had a Liz Taylor in Black Beauty thing going on.” Reluctance sets in. Do I really want to put this together for him? “Like you,” he says. Pandora’s Box opens. Chocolate anyone? An abundance of heartbreak. Rare happiness. Plenty of self-destruction. Take your pick. Julia’s got everything in here.

Iris is wearing a 1950s vintage prom dress, a black blazer, and Chuck Taylors. I adore the dress, but the blazer and shoes . . . they’re cool and all, but not exactly right for a formal dance.

At the subway station you wait fifteen minutes on the platform for a train. Finally a local, enervated by graffiti, shuffles into the station. You get a seat and hoist a copy of the New York Post. The Post is the most shameful of your several addictions. You hate to support this kind of trash with your thirty cents, but you are a secret fan of Killer Bees, Hero Cops, Sex Fiends, Lottery Winners, Teenage Terrorists, Liz Taylor, Tough Tots, Sicko Creeps, Living Nightmares, Life on Other Planets, Spontaneous Human Combustion, Miracle Diets and Coma Babies.

You don’t get it. He cut all the way through my cheek to the inside of my mouth.” “But you’re alive. And I love you.” “Say that when the bandages come off,” she said in her dull, doped-up voice. “I make the Bride of Frankenstein look like Liz Taylor.” I took her hand. “I read something once—” “I don’t think I’m quite ready for a literary discussion, Jake.” She tried to turn away again, but I held onto her hand. “It was a Japanese proverb. ‘If there is love, smallpox scars are as pretty as dimples.’ I’ll love your face no matter what it looks like. Because it’s yours.

What the fuck is that?” I ask Uncle Drew as he walks up to us. “That, my little asshole, is a screaming goat. Molly showed me this awesome video on YouTube and I had to get one,” Uncle Drew says with a huge smile. “GAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAH!” Uncle Drew turns around and points proudly to a little black and white goat tied to one of Aunt Liz and Uncle Jim’s trees. “Isn’t she cute? Her name is Taylor Swift.” “GAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAH!” the goat screams as she looks right at us. “I don’t even understand what is happening right now,” I reply with a shake of my head. “I’ve been trying to teach her—” “GAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAH!” “How to sing a—” “GAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAH!” “Song, but she never comes in at the right—” “GAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAH!

There’s a soft totalitarianism coming into play,” Michael Steele professed. He spent two years leading the GOP as chairman of the Republican National Committee. “Modern-day conservatism meant lower taxes, less government, free markets. What we are witnessing now is a deconstruction of that.… I think the rational side is losing, if not having already lost. “For a party that’s all sensitive about the Left canceling them, they do a pretty good job of canceling their own,” he added. “That’s why the hammer came down so hard on Liz Cheney—to send a message of fear. No one wants to be targeted the way she’s been targeted, which makes this period we are in perhaps the most dangerous.

Recipe for a Perfect Wife, the Novel INGREDIENTS 3 cups editors extraordinaire: Maya Ziv, Lara Hinchberger, Helen Smith 2 cups agent-I-couldn’t-do-this-without: Carolyn Forde (and the Transatlantic Literary Agency) 1½ cup highly skilled publishing teams: Dutton US, Penguin Random House Canada (Viking) 1 cup PR and marketing wizards: Kathleen Carter (Kathleen Carter Communications), Ruta Liormonas, Elina Vaysbeyn, Maria Whelan, Claire Zaya 1 cup women of writing coven: Marissa Stapley, Jennifer Robson, Kate Hilton, Chantel Guertin, Kerry Clare, Liz Renzetti ½ cup author-friends-who-keep-me-sane: Mary Kubica, Taylor Jenkins Reid, Amy E. Reichert, Colleen Oakley, Rachel Goodman, Hannah Mary McKinnon, Rosey Lim ½ cup friends-with-talents-I-do-not-have: Dr. Kendra Newell, Claire Tansey ¼ cup original creators of the Karma Brown Fan Club: my family and friends, including my late grandmother Miriam Christie, who inspired Miriam Claussen; my mom, who is a spectacular cook and mother; and my dad, for being the wonderful feminist he is 1 tablespoon of the inner circle: Adam and Addison, the loves of my life ½ tablespoon book bloggers, bookstagrammers, authors, and readers: including Andrea Katz, Jenny O’Regan, Pamela Klinger-Horn, Melissa Amster, Susan Peterson, Kristy Barrett, Lisa Steinke, Liz Fenton 1 teaspoon vintage cookbooks: particularly the Purity Cookbook, for the spark of inspiration 1 teaspoon loyal Labradoodle: Fred Licorice Brown, furry writing companion Dash of Google: so I could visit the 1950s without a time machine METHOD: Combine all ingredients into a Scrivener file, making sure to hit Save after each addition.

Rock Hudson put Lee Majors on the road to fame and fortune . . . but as the AIDS-stricken actor fought for his life, Majors was not among the celebrities—including Liz Taylor, Roddy McDowall and Nancy Walker—who were rushing to his bedside. As the superstar lay dying, his protégé was nowhere to be seen.

sometimes if you start to smile, your body catches up and you start to feel happy.

the ring was a symbol of their family, even though it was—flawed, but ultimately lovable. Difficult to wear or even figure out, but still theirs. Beautiful and messy and imperfect and deeper than it first appeared.

The ring was real, the ring was fake. The ring was a symbol for everything, the ring was just a ring. All of these stories are true. None of these stories are true. More than one thing can be true at once.

Several months before she was defeated in the Wyoming Republican primary, Liz Cheney told me that the fear of physical harm was working. Flanked by armed guards at a fundraiser, she said that Republican colleagues rejected Trumpism but were afraid to come forward after witnessing her experience. She was no stranger to Secret Service protection, given that her father had been vice president of the United States, but this was different. A security detail was not a mark of status for the Cheneys anymore; it was reflective of the fact that people were making violent threats against her family back in Wyoming, where she couldn’t go out in public the way she used to. Her fellow dissenters felt the same. “You know, it puts you at risk,” said Michigan congressman Fred Upton, who decided to walk away from a thirty-year career in Congress after his impeachment vote, “particularly when they threaten not only you—and I like to think I’m pretty fast—but when they threaten your spouse or your kids or whatever, that’s what really makes it frightening.” Ohio congressman Anthony Gonzalez decided to quit, too, confessing to receiving threats and fearing for the safety of his wife and children.

John and Yoko referred to themselves in the third person as Liz and Dick—Elizabeth Taylor and Richard Burton—whenever I went out with them.

In The Philosophy of Andy Warhol, the artist writes: What’s great about this country is that America started the tradition where the richest consumers buy essentially the same things as the poorest. You can be watching TV and see Coca-Cola, and you know that the President drinks Coke, Liz Taylor drinks Coke, and just think, you can drink Coke, too. A Coke is a Coke and no amount of money can get you a better Coke than the one the bum on the corner is drinking.

Taylor Swift’s newest song was on his last nerve. They were playing it way too much.

What's great about this country is that America started the tradition where the richest consumers buy essentially the same things as the poorest. You can be watching TV and see Coca-Cola, and you can know that the President drinks Coke. Liz Taylor drinks Coke, and just think, you can drink Coke, too.

Avea în jur de douăzeci și cinci de ani, dar nu-i dădeai mai mult de nouăsprezece; genul despre care nu-ți poți închipui în ruptul capului cum va arăta la patruzeci. Părea imposibil ca figura aceasta ingenuă, cu obrajii proaspeți, prototipul splendorii de pension, cântată de trubadurii începutului de veac, să îmbătrânească vreodată. Deși 'demodată' în viziunea estetică a contemporanilor, captiva prin inedit, unicat de femininatate între băiețoasele puse în circulație de Brigitte Bardot, 'îmbufnata' anilor șaizeci.

She's been scouted by Ford and Elite- real New York agencies. Micah, the agent for Elite- a tall black guy in silver eyeliner- said that Felice was "heart-stopping." Everyone says that Felice looks like Elizabeth Taylor- all pleased with themselves, as if she were hearing this for the first time. It used to bug Felice: she pictured that squat, henlike woman in her wig and jewels, holding hands with Michael Jackson. But one day, Duffy brought over an old movie magazine while Felice and Berry lounged at their cafe table. He opened it and jabbed at the photo. "There. Look. You kids really are morons. You really don't know anything, do you? 'That's' Elizabeth Taylor." Berry craned over the page. "Wow, you really kind of do. Look at her. You guys could be related." A little nearsighted, Felice held the magazine closer, startled to see the resemblance- the straight brow bone, glimmering eyes, the fine jaw; only Felice's straight hair was self-hacked below the shoulders and Liz's hair was a sable bob, thick as a paintbrush. She finally realized what a compliment this comparison was.

«Eniwetok e il luna park». Può sembrare strana l'accoppiata fra il luogo dove fu fatto il primo test della bomba H, nelle isole Marshall, e la fiera dei divertimenti di Parigi, così amata dai surrealisti. Ma l'interminabile serie di telegiornali dedicati alle esplosioni nucleari che vedemmo negli anni sessanta (una vera e propria istigazione all'immaginazione psicotica che autorizzava qualsiasi cosa) aveva davvero un'aria carnevalesca. Stanley Kubrick colse perfettamente questa caratteristica dei media nel finale del suo Dottor Stranamore. Mi immagino questi pazienti fare ogni sforzo, a imitazione di Warhol, nel mescolare Freud e Liz Taylor, rifugiandosi immancabilmente a casa ai primi segni di crollo nervoso del proprio dottore. Originariamente la dedica di La mostra delle atrocità avrebbe dovuto essere «Ai pazzi». A loro devo tutto.

It didn’t symbolize their love,” Courtney said. “It symbolized all the ways that love can go wrong. It was real, then it was not, it was stolen, it was retrieved. Maybe the ring is bad luck.

More than one thing can be true at once.

None of these stories are true. All of these stories are true. More than one thing can be true at once.

Our very own pint-size version of Liz Taylor in Who’s Afraid of Virginia Wolf materialized in the midst of an otherwise mundane family evening.

Our very own pint-size version of Liz Taylor in Who’s Afraid of Virginia Wolff materialized in the midst of an otherwise mundane family evening.