A Quote by John Maynard Keynes

A sound banker, alas, is not one who foresees danger and avoids it, but one who, when he is ruined, is ruined in a conventional way along with his fellows, so that no one can really blame him.
A sound banker, alas, is not one who foresees danger and avoids it, but one who, when he is ruined, is ruined in a conventional and orthodox way along with his fellows, so that no one can really blame him. It is necessarily part of the business of a banker to maintain appearances, and to confess a conventional respectability, which is more than human. Life-long practices of this kind make them the most romantic and the least realistic of men.
The story is framed around [avid Petraeus] resignation. So many headlines that followed talked about his ruined career. They completely ignore the fact that my career was ruined, other peoples' careers were ruined. They focus on him as the victim.
I must say... that I ruined myself: and that nobody, great or small, can be ruined except by his own hand.
My twin's not broken. He's ruined. Do you understand the difference? With broken maybe you can fix him. Ruined? All you can do is wait to bury him.
I can't watch shows like 'The X Factor,' for instance. I just squirm for the people involved, for the way they're being used. It's the cruellest, most ridiculous show on television. It's ruined music, ruined everything.
Cat, you ruined mom's dress!" "Honey, it was ruined when she bought it.
We are half ruined by conformity, but we should be wholly ruined without it.
In France a lot of songs were ruined by their associations with commercials. But so far no Apple commercial has ruined a song for me.
All men that are ruined, are ruined on the side of their natural propensities.
There are plenty of ruined buildings in the world but no ruined stones.
I've ruined my eyes, I've ruined my health from my studiousness!
It's not like it ruined my life, I was going to say, but then I didn't. Because it occurred to me that maybe it had ruined my life, in a kind of quiet way--a little lie, probably not so vital, insidiously separating me from everyone I loved.
The moon had risen behind him, the color of a shark's underbelly. It lit the ruined walls, and the skin of his arms and hands, with its sickly light, making him long for a mirror in which to study his face. Surely he'd be able to see the bones beneath the meat; the skull gleaming the way his teeth gleamed when he smiled. After all, wasn't that what a smile said? Hello, world, this is the way I'll look when the wet parts are rotted.
People want me to say that I'm sick of playing Leia and that it ruined my life. If my life was that easy to ruin, it deserved to be ruined.
The author of Biographia Literaria was already a ruined man. Sometimes, however, to be a "ruined man" is itself a vocation.
He built up a situation that was far enough from the truth. It never occurred to him that Helen was to blame. He forgot the intensity of their talk, the charm that had been lent him by sincerity, the magic of Oniton under darkness and of the whispering river. Helen loved the absolute. Leonard had been ruined absolutely, and had appeared to her as a man apart, isolated from the world. A real man, who cared for adventure and beauty, who desired to live decently and pay his way, who could have travelled more gloriously through life than the Juggernaut car that was crushing him.
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