You have to be a well-rounded leader. You can't fly by the seat of your pants anymore. You have to be incredibly tough-minded about standards of performance, but you also have to be incredibly tenderhearted with the people you're working with.
Odds are you know some narcissists. Odds are they're smart, confident and articulate. They make you laugh, they make you think; the first time you met, they probably charmed the pants off of you - perhaps even literally. The odds are also that that s...
I often think about image, and image is something that - but in truth, the real artistic process, as I've understood it, is 95 percent intuitive, like seat-of-the-pants, at-the-moment decisions that you can't even explain, you know?
Wikus Van De Merwe: [Comes into his house with the lights turned off, talking to his wife] I think I crapped my pants [Lights turn on and people yell surpise]
Tequila: [Tequila's pants leg is on fire and a baby he's holding urinates down Tequila's leg, causing the fire to go out] You saved the day there, you little pisspot. Thanks a lot.
[wields a crowbar in his hand] Leonard Shelby: Strip! [Jimmy takes off his shirt] Leonard Shelby: Take off your pants too. Jimmy Grantz: Why? Leonard Shelby: I don't want to get blood on them.
Seth: Hey Greg, why don't you go piss your pants? Greg the Soccer Player: [turning around] That was like 8 years ago, asshole! Seth: [yelling] People don't forget!
Veruca Salt: Daddy, I want a boat like this. A beautiful paddle boat is what I want. Grandpa Joe: [to Charlie] What she wants is a good kick in the pants!
[John and Tom have pulled Brandon's pants down to show Lana that her boyfriend is biologically female, but Lana refuses to acknowledge it] Lana: Leave him alone! John Lotter: HIM? HIM?
I always had that sense of being censored for the things that I thought. Why is it wrong to embroider your pants, or paint with acrylics on your clothing? Why is that weird? Isn't it weirder to want to be like everyone else?
I can never tell what I'm gonna wear. I kind of just put on whatever feels right. Sometimes that's Converse and a T-shirt, sometimes it's Givenchy heels and leather pants.
You've got the fountain of youth hidden in your pants." "What the fuck does that even mean?" Hook demanded, then held up a hand. "Never mind, I don't want to know." "Means fucking keeps you young.
To tell the truth, girls are no longer the way they used to be. They play gangsters, nowadays, just like boys. They organize rackets. They plan holdups and practice karate. They will rape defenseless adolescents. They wear pants... Life has become im...
This is a perfect example of how entirely out of hand the women in this country have gotten. You act like men aren't anything more than extraneous amusements, little toys to keep you entertained.
And no matter what anybody says, I don't believe all this trouble started when women got the vote. As far as I'm concerned, it goddamn well got started when you taught each other how to read.
A blanket could be used to sell ice cream to streakers. Well, it could, if those naked runners didn’t leave their wallets in their pants.
I don’t believe we should carry backup plans in life’s suitcase— they’re too easy to unpack like living a life in yoga pants, so comfortable our hips spread into new timezones...
His clothes were clean, but his mustache was dirty. He must have used it as a brush to scrub his pants. I’ll bet his coffee tastes like freedom.
I had a dream about you. You were wearing Sylvester Stallone's sneer as pants, but his lips were saggy on your legs, so you had to wear a mustache as a belt.
This guy’s got a mustache that’s made for TV. I’ve got a mustache that’s made for radio. I keep it zipped up quiet in my pants, next to my cigar.
He lowered his head toward her, so she could feel his breath warm against her skin, their mouths only inches apart. “You’re panting for it, aren’t you, Princess?” he murmured.
