Sammy Davis Quotes

Ramon looked closely at the little guy as he ate. "Maybe he's Jewish. I mean, if Sammy Davis Jr. could convert to Judaism, why not a chupacabra? We should name him Harry Mendelbaum." I held up my arms in protest. "You're all racist. Now shut up. We'll call him Taco von Precious of Svenenstein. There, everybody happy?" "Isn't von the same thing as of?" Frank asked. "Wouldn't that be kind of redundant?" "You're redundant," I said.

You always have two choices: your commitment versus your fear.

Savor the moments that are warm and special and giggly.

Alcohol gives you infinite patience for stupidity.

I liked old time music but what i meant by that was the period from the 1930s through the 60s, nothing before and little after.  Performers like fats waller, Sinatra, billie holiday, louis armstrong, rosemary clooney, ella, sammy Davis Jr, dean martin... If the lyrics weren't stupid. Words were important.

We can’t answer King’s assassination with violence. That would be the worst tribute we could pay him.

Part of show business is magic. You don’t know how it happens.

I wasn’t anything special as a father. But I loved them and they knew it.

I have to be a star like another man has to breathe.

I bought a house in the Hollywood Hills and brought my grandmother from Harlem to live in it with me.

Reality is never as bad as a nightmare, as the mental tortures we inflict on ourselves.” - Sammy Davis, Jr. Churning

You don’t swing where you sleep.

The civil rights movement wasn’t easy for anybody.

My talent was the weapon, the power, the way for me to fight. It was the one way I might hope to affect a man's thinking.

When the black entertainer and Rat Pack member Sammy Davis Jr. converted to Judaism, a joke went around that Sammy tried to get on a bus in the Jim Crow South and was ordered by the bus driver to get to the back of the bus. “But I’m Jewish,” Sammy pleaded. Whereupon the bus driver said, “Get off the bus.

Dean Martin, and Sammy Davis Jr. The cool kids of the 1960s invited the old man who had been cool before they knew cool was cool to join them in a musical romp that nobody took particularly seriously. Crosby enjoys himself. He has nothing at stake, since he’s not the star who has to carry the film. He’s very casual, and appears to be ad-libbing all his lines in the old Road tradition with a touch of W. C. Fields’s colorful vocabulary thrown in: “You gentlemen find my raiment repulsive?” he asks Sinatra and Martin when they object to his character’s lack of chic flash in clothing. Crosby plays a clever con man who disguises himself as square, and his outfits reflect a conservative vibe in the eyes of the cats who are looking him over. The inquiry leads into a number, “Style,” in which Sinatra and Martin put Crosby behind closet doors for a series of humorous outfit changes, to try to spruce him up. Crosby comes out in a plaid suit with knickers and then in yellow pants and an orange-striped shirt. Martin and Sinatra keep on singing—and hoping—while Crosby models a fez. He finally emerges with a straw hat, a cane, and a boutonniere in his tuxedo lapel, looking like a dude. In his own low-key way, taking his spot in the center, right between the other two, Crosby joins in the song and begins to take musical charge. Sinatra is clearly digging Crosby, the older man he always wanted to emulate.*17 Both Sinatra and Martin are perfectly willing to let Crosby be the focus. He’s earned it. He’s the original that the other two wanted to become. He was there when Sinatra and Martin were still kids. He’s Bing Crosby! The three men begin to do a kind of old man’s strut, singing and dancing perfectly together (“…his hat got a little more shiny…”). The audience is looking at the three dominant male singers of the era from 1940 to 1977. They’re having fun, showing everyone exactly not only what makes a pro, not only what makes a star, but what makes a legend. Three great talents, singing and dancing about style, which they’ve all clearly got plenty of: Frank Sinatra, Bing Crosby, and Dean Martin in Robin and the 7 Hoods

The book was in the form of a long letter from The Creator of the Universe to the experimental creature. The Creator congratulated the creature and apologized for all the discomfort he had endured. The Creator invited him to a banquet in his honor in the Empire Room of the Waldorf Astoria Hotel in New York City, where a black robot named Sammy Davis, Jr., would sing and dance. And the experimental creature wasn't killed after the banquet. He was transferred to a virgin planet instead. Living cells were sliced from the palms of his hands, while he was unconscious. The operation didn’t hurt at all. And then the cells were stirred into a soupy sea on the virgin planet. They would evolve into ever more complicated life forms as the eons went by. Whatever shapes they assumed, they would have free will. Trout didn't give the experimental creature a proper name. He simply called him The Man. On the virgin planet, The Man was Adam and the sea was Eve. The Man often sauntered by the sea. Sometimes he waded in his Eve. Sometimes he swam in her, but she was too soupy for an invigorating swim. She made her Adam feel sleepy and sticky afterwards, so he would dive into an icy stream that had just jumped off a mountain. He screamed when he dived into the icy water, screamed again when he came up for air. He bloodied his shins and laughed about it when he scrambled up rocks to get out of the water. He panted and laughed some more, and he thought of something amazing to yell. The Creator never knew what he was going to yell, since The Creator had no control over him. The Man himself got to decide what he was going to do next—and why. After a dip one day, for instance, The Man yelled this: “Cheese!” Another time he yelled, “Wouldn't you really rather drive a Buick?

It is odd, the things that go through your mind during a war, the things that really get to you.

One second. That's how quick life goes. This is a lesson I have never forgotten. No matter how good you think life is, it can all be taken in a heartbeat. It can all change; it can all be gone. So I try to appreciate every moment.

I realized that, in the heat of battle, I wasn't fighting for my country. I fought for the guys next to me. We were brothers. I was prepared to die for them, and they were prepared to die for me. There is nothing stronger than that. Nothing.